DAY TWO—EARTH—SGC
General Hammond took a rare, leisurely walk around the lower levels of the SGC. It wasn't often that events permitted him the luxury of a stroll. Seven of the teams, including SG-1, were on downtime. There were only three teams off world. The others were on base writing reports, doing research or on standby.
It was peaceful.
It was quiet.
It wouldn't last.
Hammond decided to walk toward Daniel's office to see how the young man was doing and, as if on cue, Hammond heard, "Dammit, Daniel, you're not weaseling your way out of this fishing trip."
So much for peace and quiet.
"Who says I'm weaseling? General Vidrine wants that translation SG-8 brought back with them in double quick time. Those were his words. He called me personally."
Oh, he did? Hammond thought to himself. General Vidrine didn't mention it to me.
"Let one of the other scientists handle it." Jack's voice was getting just a tad angry, but just a tad.
"Who else around here, other than Teal'c, knows how to speak Goa'uld? I've been trying for a few years to set up classes to teach the SG teams some words other than Kree."
He had been doing that, Hammond admitted to himself. Unfortunately, everyone was always too busy to try to learn the enemy's language despite the fact that knowing every aspect of your enemy was the first step in defeating them. Besides, that would be another job for Daniel, and goodness knows he had enough on his plate as it was.
"Even you don't make the time to learn any Goa'uld, and you have both me and Teal'c on the same team."
Hammond could hear that tense edge in Daniel's voice. Fraiser did say that the dopamine levels could put him on a bit of a roller coaster. Luckily, Jack knew how to calm Daniel down when things got too close. And things had been getting far too close lately.
"Yeah, I know," Hammond heard Jack sigh. "Look, I'll talk to Hammond, see if he can set something up so we can learn enough of the snaky words to bluff our way out of a problem. After we go fishing, okay?"
There was a pause, then an audible sigh. "You're serious?" Daniel's voice belied his skepticism.
"Yeah, I'm serious. Now about this translation Vidrine wants, give it to Rothman. He knows enough basic Goa'uld to get started, I think, and you can give him whatever notes you've written up so he can translate the rest." Jack's voice had taken on that '"okay, you're right, I'm a skunk, can we go now?'" tone.
"Robert's swamped, too, but he does owe me a favor."
"Just one?" Jack's voice was teasing. Hammond knew that Daniel gave up a lot of free time to do the work the other scientists couldn't do. The general was going to have to do something about that. He made a mental note to tell his superiors that Doctor Jackson needed a much bigger staff.
"Well, more than one." Now Daniel's voice was sounding tired.
"Good. And don't forget. Tomorrow. We're going. No question. Just remember that time and fish wait for no man." There was the sarcastic colonel everyone had learned to appreciate.
"Right, Jack."
"And no laptops, either. This is a vacation. Downtime."
"Cold beer, pesky fish and no laptops. Right." Was Doctor Jackson sounding a little better? Or at least a little calmer?
Believing that the two men were about to come out of the office and knowing that they would not have wanted to be overheard, Hammond decided that discretion was the better part of valor and tried to duck out of view. Fortunately, Jack came walking out of Daniel's office alone, but he also caught a glimpse of the general before he could successfully move from inquisitive eyes. Together, they walked toward the elevators.
"Did you hear any of that, sir?" Jack asked him.
"Enough. I'll call General Vidrine and tell him that Doctor Rothman will be taking over the translation."
"Seems a little strange that General Vidrine called and gave Daniel orders without checking with you first, isn't it?"
"More than strange, and I'll be asking him about that when I speak with him inquiring about his interest in an untranslated artifact. Any idea what it is that he's wanting Doctor Jackson to work on?" Hammond asked him.
"Yes, sir," Jack answered as they entered the elevator and punched the button for level 28. "SG-8's linguist thinks it's a description of a weapon. At least that's what they've written up in their report."
"That one?" Hammond asked. "I was wondering what the artifact looked like. There wasn't a picture included in the file. What's Doctor Jackson's opinion?"
"He thinks SG-8's linguist is suffering from the candy dish conundrum."
The elevator door opened and the two men walked out toward the command room. "The candy dish conundrum? What is that exactly?"
Jack stopped, turned to the general, and said, "I asked him that myself. He said that all archaeologists go through a stage where every artifact they find has some major religious or ceremonial significance." Jack stopped talking for a moment, then must have noticed Hammond's eyebrows rising at the archaeological references. "Those are his words, not mine. He told me that an archaeologist could find a decorated bowl and think that the high priest used it as the divine vessel that held holy water in some major religious event, and it turns out to be nothing more than a candy dish in someone's house."
"The candy dish conundrum?" Hammond almost laughed. Yes, that made sense. "And this particular artifact in question, what does Doctor Jackson think it is?"
"He thinks it's a plaque that was on a large beer barrel. It's the recipe."
Before Hammond returned to his duties—so much for his stroll through the base—he made one final comment. "A man that can make moonshine strong enough to strip rust off iron discovers a recipe for beer. What are the odds?"
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
APOPHIS' HA'TAK
It was a rare day when an Asgard came at the summons of a Goa'uld.
Apophis gazed down at the Asgard, his visitor's diminutive size in sharp contrast with the Goa'uld's towering frame, but Loki held the field with his cunning intellect. Apophis knew that he, like all Goa'ulds, had to be polite to this particular Asgard, as they were with all Asgards. They were still one of the most technologically advanced races in the galaxy; and just one Asgard ship could destroy several Goa'uld ha'taks. It would not be to his advantage to anger this particular Asgard since Loki had something Apophis wanted very much, so Apophis was polite, much to the surprise of Kintac and Klorel who stood silently nearby.
"Welcome, Loki. I trust your trip was successful," Apophis commented in a friendly tone.
"It was," Loki answered. "The Asgard concerns have been addressed, therefore my duty to them is completed for the moment." The Asgard regarded Apophis for a moment, and then said, "I am curious about your reasons for requesting my presence here. Your message was intriguing but not very forthcoming, Your Majesty."
The words "Your Majesty" were strange words to Apophis, yet they seemed to be a form of respect. Perhaps the Asgard had gleaned the title from some primitive race somewhere beyond Goa'uld influence? Or from the Tau'ri? They were the Asgards' newest pets. Regardless, Apophis noted the title with some interest, then said, "My request is simple. I wish to engage your rather unique talents for a personal matter. I will recompense you by any reward you feel adequate. Also, you will have my personal gratitude." Oh, but the sincerity was practically dripped from the System Lord's words. "Allow me to say that I found what may be your solution to my problem quite intriguing."
Acting extremely curious, Loki stepped closer to the System Lord. "May I ask what this personal matter is?"
"My mate, Amaunet, was cruelly murdered. I understand that you may have the technology to reverse this." Apophis' gaze did not leave the smaller alien.
Loki inclined his head, his bulbous, dark eyes closing slightly as if in deep thought about his answer. "I have technology that can alter time, but I have experienced success only on a very limited scale. I have never utilized the device to reverse death on a sentient being before nor could I attempt to do so more than once. The device emits a powerful energy field that can be detected, and if used twice, I would be discovered. If the Asgard become aware of my experiments, I can assure you that they would stop them. However, I am willing to make such an attempt, but only once. There are parameters that must be specifically met to assure any measure of success. There may be no guarantee that the process will be successful. That you must know before we speak further."
Apophis knew from the beginning that this was a possibility. Even for the gods, sometimes dead meant dead. No coming back. No matter. He would make the attempt. "I do realize that there are risks. I will accept them. What are these parameters?"
Loki gazed thoughtfully at the Goa'uld for a moment again. An Asgard's stare could unnerve anyone, but Apophis was a Goa'uld with a purpose. That made him a formidable creature to behold. Finally, Loki answered, "The body must be preserved for the device to detect the correct timing and sequence of events within the cellular structure. If a certain amount of deterioration has set in, the cellular structure will have deteriorated beyond recognition. The device will not be able to read the temporal process and thereby reverse it. There will be nothing I can do. The device's capabilities are only successful within a certain amount of time before decay."
"The body was buried in the Abydonian desert by the host's mate."
"Desert? Yes. Good. That is encouraging. The dry desert air will have preserved the material to a certain degree. May I ask when this occurred?" Loki's gaze never left Apophis.
"Fifty-three Abydonian days ago. I have her death calculated to the exact moment if necessary." Apophis had guessed correctly that the Asgard would need to know the duration of time the host had lain in the desert sands. He had meticulously tracked that one moment in time down to the second. Yes, Teal'c, I know when you destroyed my queen. It is a moment in time you will regret until the hour of your death, which I assure you will be soon. And by my hand.
Loki's head inclined … quite possibly considering the time frame. "That is good. The body should still be preserved within the parameters needed to assure any success. May I ask how she died?"
"I have been told that my former First Prime, Teal'c, killed her. I do not know the exact manner of her death, but I would assume that the Shol'va fired a staff weapon. He was and still is quite proficient with the weapon."
Loki seemed to regard this for a moment. His eyes closed, then opened again. "That is unfortunate, but not insurmountable. The wound may cause a disruption of tissue that the device may not be able to reverse completely. I have one more question, Your Majesty. What level of control did Queen Amaunet enforce over the host?"
Apophis' eyes took on a rather proud look. "My queen held absolute control over the slave. She was quite accomplished."
"I mean no disrespect, but this is vital. How strong were the host and the queen?"
"This is important?"
"It is. There are many factors that must be considered when altering the timeline of a living creature. When considering the resurrection of a host and symbiote, there are more complications that must be dealt with."
"My queen was exceptionally strong-willed. She was ruthless in her objectives and bore no denial of her demands." Apophis paused for a moment, then seeing that the Asgard seemed interested in knowing more, he added, "Amaunet was born to one of the most powerful ruling bloodlines of Goa'ulds. She was a queen and a goddess in her own right before joining her forces with mine. She was once consort to Amun, but left him when she discovered that the Goa'uld Chons was Amun's offspring with Mut, another Queen Goa'uld. She had not given Amun her permission to mate with another Queen. In another show of weakness, Amun allied his forces with Ra's and, like many Goa'ulds who wished to ride to glory on the dregs of the most powerful System Lord in existence instead of seeking it for themselves, had changed his name to reflect his new status as a servant of Ra. He became Amun-Re. This lack of individuality and personal motivation had proven to Amaunet that her mate was less ambitious than she had expected. In disgust, she left him and joined with me. I believe that she found a mate with political aspirations equal to her own and a regime wealthy enough to suit her needs. We were well matched. There was no internal turmoil or palace deceit. There was only the Pharaoh and his Queen ruling a dynasty that grew in size each passing century. We created the Goa'uld order that exists today."
"I have heard of the impressive accomplishments of your queen, majesty," Loki said quietly. "Her name is known among the Asgard. May I ask about the strength of the host?"
Apophis thought for a moment. "The host was strong. There were times she was able to surface, but Amaunet quickly subdued her into submission. The initial blending was difficult. The host fought, but not for long."
"Longer than a host normally would?"
"Yes. Amaunet had difficulties, but they were quickly dealt with." Apophis face practically beamed with pride.
"Again, Majesty, I mean no disrespect, but if the host was troublesome, why was she chosen?"
"The host was an Abydonian slave known as Sha'uri. What attracted both my queen and me were her beauty and her spirit. Given her home planet's lack of technology, she should not have possessed any sophistication to fight Amaunet's will, yet we underestimated her. Her willfulness and propensity to fight my queen caused some difficulty, but Amaunet was well practiced in dominating a host. The host continued to fight after knowing that there was no hope of success. Soon her struggles became ineffective. She eventually weakened just as all the others. They soon learn that they are nothing. Only the Goa'uld matter." Apophis sat back on his throne, content in the knowledge that he was right. How easily slaves forgot the truth. The host itself meant nothing. It had always been that way and would always be that way. They existed as mere vessels to carry a Goa'uld, yet they thought themselves to be so much more.
Loki's head inclined again. Apophis found Asgard physical affectations very annoying, but he would never mention it. He couldn't say or do anything to annoy this Asgard. Finally, Loki said, "Majesty, given that both host and symbiote may be preserved in the sands of Abydos and that both were uniquely strong-willed, these facts bode well as indicators for success. However, there are circumstances present that I may not be able to reverse. I cannot guarantee a positive outcome to the experiment, but you have my assurance that I will attempt to accomplish what you ask."
"I only ask that you make the attempt. We will arrive at Abydos tomorrow. Is there anything you need in preparation?"
"No. All will be ready when we arrive. If it pleases Your Majesty, I will return to my ship to prepare the equipment needed for the task."
Apophis majestically inclined his head as if giving his permission for Loki to leave. "Of course. Kintac is at your disposal. If you require any assistance, you need only ask."
Loki bowed his head, then turned and walked out of the throne room. Apophis watched the Asgard walk away, place his hand on the entrance of the room as he turned at the doorway and disappear from sight just as the entrance was sealed.
~o~o~o~
As Loki passed by the doorway, he placed a listening device on the door—one that would quickly absorb whatever color it was placed on and seemingly disappear from view. He did not leave the area. Once alone in the passageway, he brought out a small receiver unit and listened to the conversation in the room.
"You are trusting this Asgard, Father. Are you certain of this?" Klorel's voice sounded first.
"Quite certain. Loki has agreed to help me. If he succeeds, our queen will be returned to us. If he fails, then he will die. Kintac, make certain that you are near Loki at every moment while we are on Abydos. Should he fail us, then kill him."
"Of course, my lord." Kintac's voice sounded louder. Obviously, he was near the listening device.
"And your other plan, Father?"
"My other plan?" Apophis' voice sounded almost playful, like he was teasing his son.
"Yes, Father," Klorel's voice almost sounded teasing. "There is more to this than you have told us."
"Indeed there is, Klorel. I have plans for Daniel Jackson. And that, my son, will be told to you once we reach Abydos."
Loki heard the sounds of marching footfalls and quickly switched off the receiver. The next moment, he was enveloped in a bright light and disappeared from the passageway scant seconds before the marching Jaffa troop filed by.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
EARTH—SGC
"Damn it!" Daniel exclaimed as he dropped another coffee mug. He didn't realize that the coffee was that hot until it sloshed over the rim. As he bent down to clean up the mess, he cut his finger on the sharp edge of the shattered ceramic mug.
"Damn it!" That hurt.
He knew it was only his dopamine levels out of whack, he knew that every part of him was still trying to overcome the Blood Of Sokar. The pain hurt more than it should, the coffee felt hotter than it was, his clothes were scratching his skin, and he was utterly and totally pissed. He was tired, but too wired to sleep. He had circles under his eyes and his body screamed for rest only to find insomnia prevented him from getting any sleep. Janet's diagnoses were right on target.
He was a mess.
Jack was right. He needed a week away from here. He had no doubt that Janet had given Jack the idea, and for once, Daniel was grateful for his friends' meddling. Jack would make him eat and sleep, and he had no inclination to fight it. Sleep was just not what it once was.
For a year, he slept beside his wife, Sha'uri cuddled safely in his arms. Happy, contented, peaceful slumber for the first time in his life. Then for three years, sleep was another means for the nightmares to attack him. He couldn't remember a single night passing where he slept the night through and didn't have any nightmares of Sha'uri being taken from him repeatedly.
Now, sleep was just a way to get from one day to the next without being awake to feel the loneliness, but the loneliness was there. It came into his dreams. The pain went deep and hadn't lessened. Nothing helped. Not work, not distractions, not emergencies, nothing. Everywhere he looked was a reminder of his failure to rescue his wife. Every artifact, every discovery, every success against the enemy was a testament to the fact that they had traveled to countless planets and never found her—and when they did … What was the point of any of it when the most important thing in your life was gone?
The point was the survival of the human race. What's one person's sacrifice compared to that?
Now he was really getting depressed. Seesawing dopamine levels and emotional roller coasters or so Janet had told him. And everything hurt. His eyes were hurting because the lights were too bright. His hand was hurting because he had just cut it on the broken mug. His fingers were hurting because the coffee had been too hot. His—
"Enough!" he almost shouted. He had to try to fight this. This depression was not going away. He tried thinking good thoughts to try to force himself to feel better, but thoughts of Sha'uri, no matter how wonderful, depressed him further since she was no longer alive. Skaara, no, he was still missing. Kasuf? He was alive. He was just a few moments away by Stargate. Kasuf had wanted him to stay on Abydos after the funeral, but Janet had not allowed it. Daniel had been suffering the after-effects of the ribbon device and Janet was worried. Despite that fact that Abydos was the only true home he had ever known, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt the need to have family around, it wasn't going to happen. Damn Goa'ulds.
Enough bad memories … what was a good memory? Daniel thought for a moment … Kasuf had a delicious sense of humor. He was very proper in public but loved to smile and laugh when he was alone with his family. He would tell jokes that would have everyone laughing so hard that they would start to cry. He could tell such moving stories that he would captivate an entire audience without trying. Sha'uri had said that Daniel was the only other person she had ever known that could do that.
Daniel smiled at the memory.
In a few moments, he was feeling a little better. He wasn't hurting as much, but he knew that it was going to take a few more days to actually feel normal again.
Yeah, a fishing trip would probably be the best thing for him. He needed to make some good memories since so many of the memories he had been collecting lately were anything but good. It wouldn't be like the fishing trips he used to take with Kasuf, but it could be fun if he let it.
He was determined to try.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
ABYDOS—NAGADA
I hold my good son close to me, the wound in his chest bleeding, his breath rasping.
He is dying in my arms, and I cannot help him except to be with him in his last moments.
"I'm sorry," Dan'yer says.
I see his face grimace in pain. I hold him tighter, willing my strength into him. "Why?" I ask him although I knew his answer.
"I should never have taken down the barricade—" His voice starts gasping in pain.
"No. I told you to take down the barricade. I helped bring about the situation that split apart our family." I will not let him die thinking that he did anything wrong.
"Sorry," Dan'yer mumbles. "I've disappointed you …"
I place my hand on his forehead, feeling the coldness of death already grasping him. I look up at what was once Nagada, now nothing more than smoking ruins from the demons' attacks. Bodies lie dead around us. Many of my people are escaping to the mountains. I can see all that has happened, but my good son is not the cause of it. He has been too cruelly harmed by the demons to accept any blame for their actions. "You are the son of my heart, Dan'yer. You have never disappointed me. You have only brought me great joy. I could not be prouder of you if you were the blood of my blood. You are my son. Nothing will ever change that."
I can feel his heartbeat pounding in vain beneath my hand. Each beat pumps more of his life-giving blood from his body. Then I feel it weaken, falter.
I lean my forehead down to touch my good son's, my hand straying to my side to feel the fatal wound Dan'yer had tried to save me from. "I am soon to follow you, my son. But you will die knowing that in all ways important, you are my son."
Dan'yer's heart stops. He breathes his last breath. I am holding on to my son's dead body knowing that I will be dead soon. No one would come back to find us. Our bodies would never be buried with the rest of our family.
Kasuf woke.
It was the same nightmare that had haunted him more nights than he cared to remember. He knew the meaning behind it … death and pain were stalking his good son. Kasuf knew it was only a nightmare, but he believed it to be prophetic. It was one prophecy that couldn't come true. Dan'yer had suffered enough.
The nightmares kept coming, night after night. Sleep wasn't the respite from daily toils any longer. The horrifying dreams followed Kasuf every night, depriving him of much needed rest.
It wasn't always so.
Once, he could sleep easily in his tent knowing that his son Skaara was either sleeping on the far side of the tent or staying with Dan'yer and Sha'uri in their small house. With absolute certainty, he knew the daily routine would be followed. His three children would wake early and travel to what Dan'yer called the map room and the gate room. Then, still early in the morning, they would return to the city so Dan'yer could teach the people to read the written language so long denied to them. Kasuf wouldn't see them at the morning meal, but the evening meal was one in which the entire family would meet. Kasuf used to smile at his good son's enjoyment of the evening meal. When one had no family for so long, family meals would be unheard of. What Kasuf took for granted, Dan'yer treasured.
Kasuf grew accustomed to that small ritual as well as the comfort of having his loved ones close by. It wasn't until his children were ripped from his life that he realized how he had come to depend on them.
That was when the first nightmares came. Those first few months waiting for some word of their safety were a torment for Kasuf. There were times he wanted to tear down the stones burying the Chappa'ai in order to contact Dan'yer just so he could hear one of his children's voices again, but he didn't. Dan'yer had warned them about the dangers, about keeping the Chappa'ai covered for one year and Kasuf adhered to that request. Even when Sha'uri returned carrying her unborn child, Kasuf didn't unbury the gate - much to his shame since that meant his daughter and good son only had one day together before the demons took her away again.
Nightmares soon became reality. Sha'uri was now buried near her mother. Kasuf visited the graves often, telling his wife of all the village's events, telling his daughter about Dan'yer's adventures. Nothing eased the pain of loss for him, not even sleep. The dark dreams of longing to see his wife, feel her hair run through his fingers, hear the sound of her voice in the dark of night, see her in his tent … his loss of his wife still felt as if a knife was buried in his heart. Sha'uri, how he longed to hear her laugh again, hear her voice sounding with her husband and brother's as they discussed new discoveries they found in the buried chambers …
All gone. Yet, Kasuf had to believe that his boys would return home someday. He couldn't bear to think of anything else.
Skaara was still lost to him … to them. Dan'yer still searched for his brother and stepson …
Dan'yer. His good son. It was the nightmares about Dan'yer that troubled Kasuf the most. Dan'yer held the most dangerous task of all. He resisted the demons. His tribe had destroyed many of them and their Jaffa. Kasuf's fears for Dan'yer were those of a father knowing that one day his sons would meet each other on opposite sides of a battlefield and the outcome would be fatal for one of them.
Those were the greatest nightmares Kasuf faced—losing another of his children to the demons. Yet he didn't lose hope. He believed that one day his sons would return to him … but even that belief didn't stop the nightmares.
Yet, nightmares or no, Kasuf had duties to perform, duties that had been the responsibility of the chief elder since the early days. Before dawn came, Kasuf left his tent and walked about the city streets. He forced his thoughts away from his own troubles and concentrated on his duties and the city itself.