Daniel and Peter were sitting at the head of a large table that had numerous
books, transcripts and scrolls spread out. Daniel was peering intently at a
particular piece, slowly sipping his cooling coffee.
Peter was sitting next to him in a similar position. "This is the most
different mutation of the language I've ever seen."
Without looking up Daniel nodded, "It happens. They've been self contained
for god knows how many years."
"Can you hand me the Plaut?"
Peter absently reached for the large book on his left. "Here you are."
Without looking up, Daniel took the book. "Thanks, Adam."
"Not a problem," the man mumbled
Daniel looked up sharply, but Peter didn't notice, and Daniel frowned and
went back to his translation. "There's a chunk missing-- the scroll's torn
here. Have you seen a piece about yea big?" Daniel held up about an inch
and a half of air between his thumb and finger.
Peter glanced over. "There are some partial segments in this pile. What's
the context?"
"Uh." Daniel squinted. "As far as I can tell, singing trees. That, uh, could
be wrong, but this phrase," underlining a couple of the words with one
finger, "appears a lot."
"Right," Peter said, starting to sort through.
Daniel snuck a glance up at him and said, casually, "Reminds me
of that class on Arabic morphology I took -- I had this Professor who would
throw in random strings of words, just to see--"
"To see if you were paying attention," Peter finished with him, giving a
distracted grin. "God, I hated when the bloody know-it-all professors did
that. I showed up didn't I? What more did they want?"
Daniel went very still. The phrase -- Adam had used that exact same
phrase, for that exact same professor, "Adam?"
"Hmmm?" Peter didn't look up. "Hey, I think this is the segment you want--
does it fit?" He held the parchment fragment out, and when Daniel didn't
take it, he finally looked over. "Dr. Jackson, are you all right?"
"You're Adam," Daniel said flatly.
"I told you," Peter protested, "my name's Peter. Don't know this Adam friend
of yours." His gaze was bland and innocent, but Daniel didn't buy it any
longer.
"I called you Adam, you didn't even blink."
This time something did flicker across Peter's face, it went by too quickly
for Daniel to clearly identify it, but at least he had reacted.'
"Is THAT what you said? I thought you had just learned some bad habits from
these military types."
Daniel looked at him strangely.
"You know... calling everyone by their last names? Most academics don't do that sort of thing." Now Peter looked perplexed and worried, "Are you sure you're ok?"
"No."
"Is there any way I can help? Perhaps take you to the infirmary?"
Daniel studied the face in front of him intently; it was so familiar. He
briefly closed his eyes and said, "No, it's... No. How about an early
lunch?"
"I am a little hungry." Peter said, "I'll meet you back here in an hour?"
"Make it an hour and a half, maybe I'll take a short nap, you know me..." he
trailed off waiting.
Peter looked at him curiously, "You... like your mid-day nap?"
"Nooo. Sorry. I'll just be going."
Again Daniel wandered through the hallways with his mind racing through the
past. He watched a face float before his eyes, was ten years long enough
to forget? No, something wasn't right.
He sat at an empty table eating his lunch trying to put the pieces together.
Normally, when he wasn't eating *with* someone, he spent the entire meal
alone -- but today, he wasn't. Jack sat down next to him, dropping his tray
onto Daniel's table with a loud clatter. "Hey."
"Hey," Daniel said, drawing the syllable out as he continued to try to think
"They call this turkey," Jack complained, poking at his sandwich, "but I
really don't think it's anything halfway edible." He shrugged and took a
bite. "How's your new friend working out?" he asked around a mouthful of
sandwich.
"Huh?" Daniel blinked up at him. "New -- what?"
"New friend. Y'know. Doctor Peter Adams."
"He's not... I mean, there's...ah, that is, it's... He's good at what he
does."
"Uh-huh."
Something in Jack's voice made Daniel look at him, but Jack wasn't sending
any meaningful glances his way. "We've made progress on the translation."
"So you'll be finished sometime this century?" Jack teased, deadpan. He
expected some sort of reaction -- a sigh, rolled eyes, an annoyed "Ja-ack",
something -- but Daniel just shrugged and went back to poking his lunch.
"Something bugging you?" Jack asked.
"Nah," Daniel said, but it was the sort of 'nah' that really meant 'yes'.
"This about Adam?"
*That* got a reaction. Daniel's head snapped up, and he stared wide-eyed at
Jack, looking more alarmed than confused. "What?"
"Isn't that the name you used back in the briefing room? When you thought
Peter was someone else."
"I-- oh. I did, didn't I." Daniel looked less alarmed, but wasn't relaxed
either. "That was a mistake. I've got to go, need to get to work," and he
stood abruptly.
"Bye," Jack said to Daniel's back, and frowned. "*That* was odd."
books, transcripts and scrolls spread out. Daniel was peering intently at a
particular piece, slowly sipping his cooling coffee.
Peter was sitting next to him in a similar position. "This is the most
different mutation of the language I've ever seen."
Without looking up Daniel nodded, "It happens. They've been self contained
for god knows how many years."
"Can you hand me the Plaut?"
Peter absently reached for the large book on his left. "Here you are."
Without looking up, Daniel took the book. "Thanks, Adam."
"Not a problem," the man mumbled
Daniel looked up sharply, but Peter didn't notice, and Daniel frowned and
went back to his translation. "There's a chunk missing-- the scroll's torn
here. Have you seen a piece about yea big?" Daniel held up about an inch
and a half of air between his thumb and finger.
Peter glanced over. "There are some partial segments in this pile. What's
the context?"
"Uh." Daniel squinted. "As far as I can tell, singing trees. That, uh, could
be wrong, but this phrase," underlining a couple of the words with one
finger, "appears a lot."
"Right," Peter said, starting to sort through.
Daniel snuck a glance up at him and said, casually, "Reminds me
of that class on Arabic morphology I took -- I had this Professor who would
throw in random strings of words, just to see--"
"To see if you were paying attention," Peter finished with him, giving a
distracted grin. "God, I hated when the bloody know-it-all professors did
that. I showed up didn't I? What more did they want?"
Daniel went very still. The phrase -- Adam had used that exact same
phrase, for that exact same professor, "Adam?"
"Hmmm?" Peter didn't look up. "Hey, I think this is the segment you want--
does it fit?" He held the parchment fragment out, and when Daniel didn't
take it, he finally looked over. "Dr. Jackson, are you all right?"
"You're Adam," Daniel said flatly.
"I told you," Peter protested, "my name's Peter. Don't know this Adam friend
of yours." His gaze was bland and innocent, but Daniel didn't buy it any
longer.
"I called you Adam, you didn't even blink."
This time something did flicker across Peter's face, it went by too quickly
for Daniel to clearly identify it, but at least he had reacted.'
"Is THAT what you said? I thought you had just learned some bad habits from
these military types."
Daniel looked at him strangely.
"You know... calling everyone by their last names? Most academics don't do that sort of thing." Now Peter looked perplexed and worried, "Are you sure you're ok?"
"No."
"Is there any way I can help? Perhaps take you to the infirmary?"
Daniel studied the face in front of him intently; it was so familiar. He
briefly closed his eyes and said, "No, it's... No. How about an early
lunch?"
"I am a little hungry." Peter said, "I'll meet you back here in an hour?"
"Make it an hour and a half, maybe I'll take a short nap, you know me..." he
trailed off waiting.
Peter looked at him curiously, "You... like your mid-day nap?"
"Nooo. Sorry. I'll just be going."
Again Daniel wandered through the hallways with his mind racing through the
past. He watched a face float before his eyes, was ten years long enough
to forget? No, something wasn't right.
He sat at an empty table eating his lunch trying to put the pieces together.
Normally, when he wasn't eating *with* someone, he spent the entire meal
alone -- but today, he wasn't. Jack sat down next to him, dropping his tray
onto Daniel's table with a loud clatter. "Hey."
"Hey," Daniel said, drawing the syllable out as he continued to try to think
"They call this turkey," Jack complained, poking at his sandwich, "but I
really don't think it's anything halfway edible." He shrugged and took a
bite. "How's your new friend working out?" he asked around a mouthful of
sandwich.
"Huh?" Daniel blinked up at him. "New -- what?"
"New friend. Y'know. Doctor Peter Adams."
"He's not... I mean, there's...ah, that is, it's... He's good at what he
does."
"Uh-huh."
Something in Jack's voice made Daniel look at him, but Jack wasn't sending
any meaningful glances his way. "We've made progress on the translation."
"So you'll be finished sometime this century?" Jack teased, deadpan. He
expected some sort of reaction -- a sigh, rolled eyes, an annoyed "Ja-ack",
something -- but Daniel just shrugged and went back to poking his lunch.
"Something bugging you?" Jack asked.
"Nah," Daniel said, but it was the sort of 'nah' that really meant 'yes'.
"This about Adam?"
*That* got a reaction. Daniel's head snapped up, and he stared wide-eyed at
Jack, looking more alarmed than confused. "What?"
"Isn't that the name you used back in the briefing room? When you thought
Peter was someone else."
"I-- oh. I did, didn't I." Daniel looked less alarmed, but wasn't relaxed
either. "That was a mistake. I've got to go, need to get to work," and he
stood abruptly.
"Bye," Jack said to Daniel's back, and frowned. "*That* was odd."