Hi all, I know it's been a long time coming..
Hope you had a good festive break and that the New Year brings a sprinkling of sunlight to you all.
Disclaimer - I do not own, they are not mine, just this story, at this time.
I've split this into two chapters 'cos I can.
Thanks to CT for the betaing (I blame the workmen and the hammering, drilling, no heat and lots of dust for all mistakes) - my thanks goes out to whom ever invented the thermos flask!!!!
Again I am most humbled by your reviews, a big thanks with caramelised sugar on top. :o)
So on we go...
===========
The potter's long, brown, pliable, fingers worked the clay, breathing shape and form into the piece of earth before him. He feels his way around the vessel, his small, sightless, eyes staring into some distant memory while he talks to his creation, chronicling its conception and instructing it of its purpose. His face shows the map of his years spent toiling in this barren landscape, which devours a man's bones as quick as a puff of air disperses his footprints in the sand.
A small, dark, boy, full of hunger works the wheel, sensing the man's needs, watching his deft fingers mould and bestow meaning to the clay, feeding off his expertise as he would a loaf of bread, knowing one day his, blunt, immature, fingers will fashion great works. The heat is intense as the sun steals the shade from an inadequate canopy flicking in the deserts breeze but still they labour, when they should be resting, a dire urgency imprinted on both their faces.
The man stops, wiping the perspiration from his glistening forehead and rests a hand on the boy's shoulder. In the distance a figure approaches, distorted by the ghosts of the rising heat. The boy gets to his feet and hands the old man a pigskin full of water, letting him drink first while he heads into the, small, sand brick, dwelling they share.
The old man's bones groan, as he gets to his feet, as the emaciated leather of his skin stretches across each skeletal protrusion. He listens to the desert wind, as it burns his face, whispering images of the visitor that his dead eyes can no longer acknowledge. He turns his face back to where the boy hovers in the entrance of their abode drinking thirstily from the pigskin, "mezzomaiolica", he says in a dry voice that is gritted by age and location.
The boy turns and produces a large bellied, earthen, pot and sets it down in the shade. He squats down, lifting the cork lid and begins to stir its contents, with a reed, as they await the messenger from their God.
Jonas removed his hand from the dish and the image ebbed from his mind. He licked the non-existent grit of sand from his lips as he made a fist and then uncurled his fingers, watching the light dissolve from the symbol on his palm. He picked up the black leather glove, from the table in front of him, and put it back on to blind the eye.
Daniel watched him closely, concern furrowing his face. It had been two weeks since Jonas had returned to Earth and although the medical team were amazed with his progress, from the infection, there was still deep kohl smudges under his eyes that told of restless nights and a lack of sleep.
Doctor Jackson leaned back in the chair laying down the pen that he had been using to make notes from Jonas' narrative. He tapped his top lip with a fingertip, deep in thought and Jonas looked at him enthusiastically, making him seem even younger; Daniel smiled, "mezzomaiolica is a blue lead base glaze, used in Egypt during the fourth millennium", he looked down at the undecorated bowl, "and this dish is defiantly blue!"
Jonas stood, stretching his limbs, "so maybe the settlement was Egyptian?" He offered.
Daniel shook his head, rubbing his chin in consideration, "no, no I don't think so," he stated. "The layout of the ruins seems to suggest a more Central or South American civilisation," he sighed, "although who's to say that Egyptian slaves were not taken to serve some Mayan, Inca or Aztec Goa'uld 'God'"
Jonas sat back down, weighing the possibility up for himself while focusing on the artefact that lay between the two men. He touched the bowl's rim with his index finger, moving it back and forth along the smooth edge, "there was also a feeling of, of," he searched for the right word, "um, 'sustenance' as if the piece would bring a great nourishment, not just for him and the boy, but for others."
He removed his finger and took a sip of water from the glass on the desk, "and there was a significance in throwing the dish when the sun was at its highest", he looked across at Daniel, optimistically.
"Many cultures worshiped the sun, in some form or another, maybe this dish was made for that purpose, to honour the sun in a special ritual?" Daniel replied, returning his hopeful gaze.
Jonas shrugged his shoulders a little dejectedly, "I'm sorry, the vision wasn't that clear. I haven't really helped much?"
Daniel closed the notebook and a smile crinkled his features, "Jonas you can't expect to have all the answers straight away. Your 'gift' isn't an exact science, you said so yourself that sometimes it's a collection of disjoint images and feelings. Stop pushing yourself so hard, we've got a lot more information to work on than we had this morning," he assured the younger man, before getting to his feet to put the bowl back on a shelf.
Jonas took a deep breath, chewing his lip, "Doctor Jackson," Daniel turned and looked at him, he knew what was coming without any precognitive powers, Jonas smiled, "Daniel, your heading back to planet in a few days, to try and get more answers from the site."
"Yes, Jonas but."
"If I came with you."
"Jonas, you've only just gotten over a bout of Rat Bite Fever, 'technically', you're meant to be resting," Jackson reminded him, fighting against the appeal in the Kelownan's eyes.
"But the planet's abandoned," he petitioned again, "you're going back with at team of archaeologists to excavate the settlement, to see if you can find answers as to why it was deserted and who lived there," Jonas argued animatedly, the excitement shining from his face.
Daniel shook his head; this was one battle he wasn't sure he could win. It was true, he could really use Jonas' gift for observation as well as the Eye, for the whole location had literally been desolated and then abandoned by its former occupants. Dwellings had been burnt and levelled, great statues toppled and smashed until nothing but a broken plinth remained, text and images had been lost forever, gouged into silence by the strike of a chisel. In fact, the only artefact they had been able to retrieve was the bowl, buried and forgotten in the midst of this devastation by the desert and time.
He looked up again into the younger man's face, seeing his own reflection in the anticipation and desire etched on the alien's eager but tired features. He sighed, thoughtfully, he was wary of Jonas' condition, of the turmoil the younger man was so desperately trying to hide from his friends but maybe this project would help him fight whatever demons his mind needed to exorcise.
"Okay, okay," Daniel replied surrendering the palms of his hands, "I'll talk to Doctor Boord and General Hammond later."
Jonas punched the air, "hey," Daniel warned, "they haven't said yes, yet."
The Kelownan gave him an innocent smile as if he knew it was a sure thing.
Daniel rested a hand on his shoulder, "and until a decision's been made," he continued, "I want you to get plenty of rest."
"I have been."
"Jonas, those heavy circles under your eyes kinda say that you haven't."
Jonas looked away, Daniel continued holding onto his arm, "if you need to talk about 'anything' we're here for you, okay?"
He nodded not meeting Doctor Jackson's gaze, Daniel released him.
The klaxon sounded the gate activation; both men stared at each other, "General Carter?" Jonas enquired.
Daniel nodded and headed for the door waiting a moment for Jonas to catch him up.
The Kelownan limped towards him, "it's okay," he said with soft smile, "you go on, I've a few notes to pick-up beforehand, I'll meet you in the briefing room."
Doctor Jackson gave him an acknowledging nodded and continued out the door.
Jonas retrieved a pen from the desk drawer and placed it in his pocket, pausing a moment to looked at the bowl. He swallowed nervously, there was something hiding beneath the bowl's cold blue, glazed, exterior, something beckoning him, softly, with answers to questions that hadn't been asked yet. He had felt it the moment he'd set eyes on it, like it was enticing him to swim in its memory of the past and yet he knew, that, somehow it was the nucleus that would pull both the past and present together.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this relic was a key to something more.
===================
Hope you had a good festive break and that the New Year brings a sprinkling of sunlight to you all.
Disclaimer - I do not own, they are not mine, just this story, at this time.
I've split this into two chapters 'cos I can.
Thanks to CT for the betaing (I blame the workmen and the hammering, drilling, no heat and lots of dust for all mistakes) - my thanks goes out to whom ever invented the thermos flask!!!!
Again I am most humbled by your reviews, a big thanks with caramelised sugar on top. :o)
So on we go...
===========
The potter's long, brown, pliable, fingers worked the clay, breathing shape and form into the piece of earth before him. He feels his way around the vessel, his small, sightless, eyes staring into some distant memory while he talks to his creation, chronicling its conception and instructing it of its purpose. His face shows the map of his years spent toiling in this barren landscape, which devours a man's bones as quick as a puff of air disperses his footprints in the sand.
A small, dark, boy, full of hunger works the wheel, sensing the man's needs, watching his deft fingers mould and bestow meaning to the clay, feeding off his expertise as he would a loaf of bread, knowing one day his, blunt, immature, fingers will fashion great works. The heat is intense as the sun steals the shade from an inadequate canopy flicking in the deserts breeze but still they labour, when they should be resting, a dire urgency imprinted on both their faces.
The man stops, wiping the perspiration from his glistening forehead and rests a hand on the boy's shoulder. In the distance a figure approaches, distorted by the ghosts of the rising heat. The boy gets to his feet and hands the old man a pigskin full of water, letting him drink first while he heads into the, small, sand brick, dwelling they share.
The old man's bones groan, as he gets to his feet, as the emaciated leather of his skin stretches across each skeletal protrusion. He listens to the desert wind, as it burns his face, whispering images of the visitor that his dead eyes can no longer acknowledge. He turns his face back to where the boy hovers in the entrance of their abode drinking thirstily from the pigskin, "mezzomaiolica", he says in a dry voice that is gritted by age and location.
The boy turns and produces a large bellied, earthen, pot and sets it down in the shade. He squats down, lifting the cork lid and begins to stir its contents, with a reed, as they await the messenger from their God.
Jonas removed his hand from the dish and the image ebbed from his mind. He licked the non-existent grit of sand from his lips as he made a fist and then uncurled his fingers, watching the light dissolve from the symbol on his palm. He picked up the black leather glove, from the table in front of him, and put it back on to blind the eye.
Daniel watched him closely, concern furrowing his face. It had been two weeks since Jonas had returned to Earth and although the medical team were amazed with his progress, from the infection, there was still deep kohl smudges under his eyes that told of restless nights and a lack of sleep.
Doctor Jackson leaned back in the chair laying down the pen that he had been using to make notes from Jonas' narrative. He tapped his top lip with a fingertip, deep in thought and Jonas looked at him enthusiastically, making him seem even younger; Daniel smiled, "mezzomaiolica is a blue lead base glaze, used in Egypt during the fourth millennium", he looked down at the undecorated bowl, "and this dish is defiantly blue!"
Jonas stood, stretching his limbs, "so maybe the settlement was Egyptian?" He offered.
Daniel shook his head, rubbing his chin in consideration, "no, no I don't think so," he stated. "The layout of the ruins seems to suggest a more Central or South American civilisation," he sighed, "although who's to say that Egyptian slaves were not taken to serve some Mayan, Inca or Aztec Goa'uld 'God'"
Jonas sat back down, weighing the possibility up for himself while focusing on the artefact that lay between the two men. He touched the bowl's rim with his index finger, moving it back and forth along the smooth edge, "there was also a feeling of, of," he searched for the right word, "um, 'sustenance' as if the piece would bring a great nourishment, not just for him and the boy, but for others."
He removed his finger and took a sip of water from the glass on the desk, "and there was a significance in throwing the dish when the sun was at its highest", he looked across at Daniel, optimistically.
"Many cultures worshiped the sun, in some form or another, maybe this dish was made for that purpose, to honour the sun in a special ritual?" Daniel replied, returning his hopeful gaze.
Jonas shrugged his shoulders a little dejectedly, "I'm sorry, the vision wasn't that clear. I haven't really helped much?"
Daniel closed the notebook and a smile crinkled his features, "Jonas you can't expect to have all the answers straight away. Your 'gift' isn't an exact science, you said so yourself that sometimes it's a collection of disjoint images and feelings. Stop pushing yourself so hard, we've got a lot more information to work on than we had this morning," he assured the younger man, before getting to his feet to put the bowl back on a shelf.
Jonas took a deep breath, chewing his lip, "Doctor Jackson," Daniel turned and looked at him, he knew what was coming without any precognitive powers, Jonas smiled, "Daniel, your heading back to planet in a few days, to try and get more answers from the site."
"Yes, Jonas but."
"If I came with you."
"Jonas, you've only just gotten over a bout of Rat Bite Fever, 'technically', you're meant to be resting," Jackson reminded him, fighting against the appeal in the Kelownan's eyes.
"But the planet's abandoned," he petitioned again, "you're going back with at team of archaeologists to excavate the settlement, to see if you can find answers as to why it was deserted and who lived there," Jonas argued animatedly, the excitement shining from his face.
Daniel shook his head; this was one battle he wasn't sure he could win. It was true, he could really use Jonas' gift for observation as well as the Eye, for the whole location had literally been desolated and then abandoned by its former occupants. Dwellings had been burnt and levelled, great statues toppled and smashed until nothing but a broken plinth remained, text and images had been lost forever, gouged into silence by the strike of a chisel. In fact, the only artefact they had been able to retrieve was the bowl, buried and forgotten in the midst of this devastation by the desert and time.
He looked up again into the younger man's face, seeing his own reflection in the anticipation and desire etched on the alien's eager but tired features. He sighed, thoughtfully, he was wary of Jonas' condition, of the turmoil the younger man was so desperately trying to hide from his friends but maybe this project would help him fight whatever demons his mind needed to exorcise.
"Okay, okay," Daniel replied surrendering the palms of his hands, "I'll talk to Doctor Boord and General Hammond later."
Jonas punched the air, "hey," Daniel warned, "they haven't said yes, yet."
The Kelownan gave him an innocent smile as if he knew it was a sure thing.
Daniel rested a hand on his shoulder, "and until a decision's been made," he continued, "I want you to get plenty of rest."
"I have been."
"Jonas, those heavy circles under your eyes kinda say that you haven't."
Jonas looked away, Daniel continued holding onto his arm, "if you need to talk about 'anything' we're here for you, okay?"
He nodded not meeting Doctor Jackson's gaze, Daniel released him.
The klaxon sounded the gate activation; both men stared at each other, "General Carter?" Jonas enquired.
Daniel nodded and headed for the door waiting a moment for Jonas to catch him up.
The Kelownan limped towards him, "it's okay," he said with soft smile, "you go on, I've a few notes to pick-up beforehand, I'll meet you in the briefing room."
Doctor Jackson gave him an acknowledging nodded and continued out the door.
Jonas retrieved a pen from the desk drawer and placed it in his pocket, pausing a moment to looked at the bowl. He swallowed nervously, there was something hiding beneath the bowl's cold blue, glazed, exterior, something beckoning him, softly, with answers to questions that hadn't been asked yet. He had felt it the moment he'd set eyes on it, like it was enticing him to swim in its memory of the past and yet he knew, that, somehow it was the nucleus that would pull both the past and present together.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this relic was a key to something more.
===================