"What is it?" he asked, looking around and frowning at the aliens' expressions.
"The lights and the machines – they went on by themselves."
"Well, maybe they're supposed to. They could be automatic."
"I don't think so, at least not based on their expressions. I think it's you," Sam told him.
"Me? What are you talking about? I didn't touch anything."
"I know – that's what I mean. I have a feeling it might be your Ancient gene," she said, although it was just a guess.
"My Ancient gene? But that's crazy. These aren't Ancients so why would their technology react to me?"
"Well, they knew the Ancients. They were allies, in fact. Maybe the two races shared technology."
Jack turned and glared at the bank of machines, as if it were their fault that that they had reacted like this. He then glanced back at the Furlings who were all staring at him in wonder.
Sam noticed that more of the aliens had entered through the open door of the building and were all staring at Jack. She didn't know quite how to react. They didn't seem upset or angry and they certainly hadn't done anything to make her think they were a threat, but she still felt perturbed by their silent focus on O'Neill.
She figured it had more to do with their lack of ability to communicate with one another that was causing her discomfort. It wasn't just that they couldn't – or didn't want to – speak, it was that they seemed unable or unwilling to try other forms of communication, other than smiles and the occasional gesture.
"Do you think we're okay?" Sam asked O'Neill, softly.
He watched the aliens for a moment and then focused his attention back on her. "Yeah, we're fine. They were just surprised – I think, but I don't get the impression they're going to harm us. They seem pretty gentle."
"Okay," she said, although she continued to keep her eye on them. She wished Marie were here, as she was the person Sam trusted the most.
"So Carter, should we try one of the machines?"
"Huh?" She swung her eyes to look at the General, who was regarding her quizzically. She shook her head and then spoke.
"Uh – yes, I guess so. They don't seem to be trying to stop us."
"No," Jack answered as he stepped towards the machines. "In fact I think they want me to try."
As he grew closer to the bank of – computers, she decided to call them, the lights grew even brighter. She had this strange thought that the machines were actually excited to have O'Neill here.
"Okay – which one?" he asked her.
She pointed to the middle console. "That's the one I tried earlier."
"Okay, so that one it is." He sat in the chair, practically causing the machine to hum. Sam grinned briefly, remembering his dislike (or pretended dislike) of cats. The machine reminded her exactly of a cat – purring louder as its owner drew near.
And that caused her to frown. Again she had a very strange feeling about these machines - that they actually knew the General, and were happy to see him.
She shook her head and stepped closer, watching as O'Neill placed his hands on the console keys.
And the machines went wild. The whole room lit up and images and designs began to swirl all over the room. There was an incredible sound – not music, but something that affected her from her toes on up. It wasn't unpleasant, but it certainly wasn't normal.
Sam had to grab the back of a chair so as not to lose her balance, as images kept swirling around her. At one point she was able to peek at the aliens, only to worry when she saw them clutching their heads, as if in pain.
"Sir," she called. "Can you stop?"
"I'm not doin' anything, Carter," he called back.
"Stop thinking!"
That got her the O'Neill eyebrow look – the look that said, "I'm too polite a person to tell you you're an idiot – but you are."
"How the hell do I do that?" he cried.
"I don't know, Sir," she answered, starting to feel nauseous. "Think of something else – something good."
He struggled to take his hands away from the surface in front of him, but he did manage to close his eyes.
Sam watched him closely, seeing him concentrating on – whatever. She could tell he was having a tough time, but then so was she. The swirling of colors and objects made her even dizzier.
Without warning, the shapes changed. Everything slowed down – from frenetic to softly floating.
The colors all changed to a rosy hew and swirled back and forth, through one another and out the other side. A moment later the colors threaded their way around her, almost as if they were checking her out. Again, she thought of cats.
There was no pain – in fact it was a rather pleasant feeling. Once the shapes had swirled away from her, they all began to coalesce around O'Neill. He looked at her in surprise, but didn't seem to be bothered by them. Soon he was surrounded by swirling colors.
Sam glanced back at the aliens, but they continued to stare at Jack. She grew worried, as the shaped continued, but then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they quickly moved off, forming a single brilliant thread of color. A moment later it moved to the bank of machines and flew into them – disappearing in seconds.
Jack's eyebrows lifted. "Uh, what the hell was that?"
"I have no idea, Sir," she answered, feeling shaken. "Are you okay?"
"I feel fine," he told her, "good even. Uh – what are they doing?" He pointed to the door.
She swung around, to see a whole group of aliens standing by the door. Danny was there, looking more excited than she'd ever seen him. A moment later the group parted, and Marie walked in.
She moved towards the two humans, but it was only as she drew near to them that Jack moved.
He grabbed his head and let out a soft groan.
"Sir, are you okay?" Sam hurried to him in concern.
"Wow," he said, shaking his head. "Head rush." By this time Marie had come up to them and was looking intently at Jack. He shook his head again, and then his eyes grew big.
"What is it?" Sam asked, but got no answer. Jack was staring at Marie, not moving and barely breathing or blinking. Finally he took a deep breath and then turned to her.
"I can understand her," he said softly.
"Really? You mean – you can hear her words?"
"I – guess," he frowned. "It's not really like that. It's as if – I don't know quite how to explain it. I can feel what she's saying. I- they are the Furlings," he told her. "I was right about that."
"What else?" she asked, when he stopped.
"Uh," he glanced at Sam and then back to Marie. "I was also right – this is a hospital."
"How did we get here?"
"I don't know if they can understand me, Carter," he told her. "I don't even know how to talk to them."
"Try to close your eyes again, and - uh – think what you want to say."
"Okay," he said skeptically. He did as she said and everything was silent and still. When he opened his eyes he still seemed uncomfortable, but this time seemed to have been successful.
"I think she understood me," he told Sam, almost sounding surprised. "What she told me is exactly what you saw on the machine. They've kept to themselves for millennia, after they went through a major civil war. Many of their people died. In fact, they almost wiped each other out. Once the war was over, they decided they could never let that happen again, so they've spent the years since working to build a society that is peaceful and harmonious."
"What about their inability to communicate?" she asked.
"Oh, they communicate – but not in a way we've ever seen or heard or experienced. It's not really telepathic – I don't know quite what it is. According to Marie," he stopped for a second. "Actually, she says her name is Iola," Jack told her. "Anyway, Iola seems to indicate it's more a case of - of being attuned to one another."
"It's still strange that they didn't even try to communicate with us," Sam commented.
"I think that's because they were afraid," he told her.
"Afraid? Of us?"
"Well, it's not completely clear, but I think their peace was hard won – and the reason they isolated themselves is they didn't want any negative outside forces to affect them."
"So they were afraid we'd "pollute" them," Sam answered, with a touch of anger.
"Yeah, well – I guess," he nodded. "I don't think they saw us as bad or anything – in fact I think they quite like us," he grinned briefly. "But they kept themselves apart, only communicating as much as was needed. I guess that Danny – his real name is Kimon, by the way – has been pushing to try to get them to communicate with us. His letting you see the computer actually wasn't allowed, but he wanted to prove we were okay."
"And did he? Do they believe we are okay?"
"I think so, but let me see what else I can find out" Jack said carefully. He held his hand up to his head for a few minutes as he "listened" to Iola.
"So," he finally said to her, "just recently they've decided to expand – a little – back into the galaxy. They're moving very slowly and carefully, but they sent out a ship a few months ago with a small crew, to find out what's been happening. It was on one of their expeditions that the crew of the ship found out about us – I guess Teal'c did a good job of spreading the word. I guess they were surprised that the Tauri had finally managed to make it off Earth! The Furlings decided they'd help us, partially because they were curious and wanted to meet us, so sent their ship to Earth and here we are."
"But – but how did they find out? If they can't – or don't want to communicate – how did they understand that you were - sick?"
Jack looked at Iola for a moment's silent communication. "Uh – they have some kind of translator on their ship," he explained. "She did tell me it's difficult – even when they were part of the Alliance of the four races, there was only one of their allies with whom they could communicate with directly."
"Don't tell me – the Ancients?" Sam said.
"Yeah, the Ancients. Somehow this thing," he pointed to the machines, "was able to activate some kind of way for me to understand them. Iola did tell me that these machines are ancient – as in really old – as well as Ancient. They were given to them as a gift by the Ancients as a way to record their history."
"So, you using it – or just coming close to it – activated your ability to communicate with the Furlings," she. "Wow that's – great, I guess. Now maybe we can ask about going home."
He swung to her in surprise. "Uh – I can ask but – you want to leave now?"
She frowned and regarded him in surprise. "Don't you, Sir?" she asked.
He appeared rather uncomfortable, and grimaced slightly. He then swung back to Iola and silently conversed with her.
"She told me that they will be happy to take us back to Earth," he told Sam, "but she doesn't feel I'm quite ready," he explained. "She'd like us to stay just a bit longer, until I'm totally healed."
"How much longer?"
Jack shrugged. "I don't think it'll be too long, Carter," he said. "I understand wanting to get back home, but I – well, I don't want to do anything that's going to futz with my health," he explained. "And there's the fact that these are the Furlings. Don't you want to find out more about them?"
She let out a long sigh, but then nodded. "I guess," she said, less than enthusiastically. "Okay, as long as it's not too long I'm fine with staying. It's just that I'm getting pretty bored."
He nodded sharply, as if her words had upset him, but he then "spoke" to Iola for a moment. "I think that's about it for now, Carter," he said. "This alien talking is tiring and I think I'd like to head back to my room. It's also just about dinner time."
"Okay," Sam nodded, feeling strangely irritated. She hated not being able to talk to the aliens, and didn't feel able to really talk to O'Neill, except about the aliens, their stay on this planet, and finding their way home.
As she moved towards the door, followed by Jack and Iola, she suddenly felt depressed. She felt completely isolated, unable to talk to the aliens, unable to really talk to O'Neill. She felt more lonely than she had in her life.
"I'll just head to my room, too," she told Jack, ignoring the Furlings. For some reason she felt angry and resentful towards them, which wasn't fair – but it was how she felt. It reminded her of what it had been like when she was a teenager and she had been frozen out of her classmates "friend group."
Without waiting for him to answer, or the aliens to smile at her one more time, she trudged off to her room.
Jack stopped and followed her with his eyes, concerned at her reaction to all that had just happened, but appearing unsure what to do about it.
Iola touched his arm and he felt a wave of sympathy and caring, which helped a tiny bit – but not enough. He had to figure out what to do about Carter.