Chapter 20 - New Terrain

At the SGC, Mckay was at last no longer concerned about getting sick, and quickly began moving his stuff out of Daniel's lab. As he didn't make any comments about it while doing it, though, Daniel considered it an all-around pleasant experience.

"Doctor Mckay, Doctor Jackson," said Hammond by introduction, stepping into the doorway.

Both men looked up at the same time, saying, "Yes?"

"Both of you came to me separately on the issue of staffing here at the SGC," said Hammond, "and while I didn't promise anything, I considered and discussed the issue with my superiors. After last year's evaluation, it became clear that many disasters have been thwarted through the various scientific fields."

Mckay's face lit up, but Daniel didn't have enough information. "So what have you decided?"

"We will be recruiting more scientists in the following months, and would appreciate your recommendations for possible subjects," said Hammond. "As you both know, your own participation was nearly accidental, but we hope to achieve equal results again through your advice."

Mckay frowned.

"You have a problem, Doctor Mckay?" inquired Hammond.

"What criteria should we be considering?" asked Mckay.

"Scientists with a knack for seeing outside the box, high up in their field," said Hammond. "Use your judgment, with what you know from working here."

"Yeah, that might be a problem," murmured Mckay.

Hammond nodded, and left the room.

"What is it?" asked Daniel to Mckay.

"Oh, just that the reason I hated my colleagues before coming here was that they were close-minded and idiots," said Mckay simply. He paused. "Actually, things haven't changed that much."

Daniel held back from commenting on that last bit, and tried to ignore it. "I suppose that makes sense," he said, leaning on his elbows on his desk. "It's a strange job, you have to admit that."

"Yeah, but how hard is it for archaeologists to learn that their myths are real?" asked Mckay. "It's trying to figure out how new elements and technologies work that really requires ingenuity."

"Possibly," said Daniel. "But the archaeological side is no piece of cake, I can tell you."

"So what, you know of anyone you'd offer a job here?" asked Mckay, picking up his final things and pausing on the way out the door.

"Not really," admitted Daniel. "I was kind of shunned—the only people who I think might still be willing to believe me are my old archaeology professor and my grandfather. Otherwise, I'd have to make sure that the military didn't say who made the recommendation when they send their guys."

"Hm," said Mckay, a little distantly, and left the room.

Daniel didn't have anything else he was doing at the moment, so his mind was easily led off track by Hammond's request. He wasn't sure he wanted to spend a lot of time thinking about his days back in the real world of archaeology, all the friends he had alienated, all the relationships he'd wittingly or unwittingly destroyed through his extreme passion and dedication to his theories. Not to mention all the abuse he'd faced from people he thought would have been more open. It hadn't been a kind world, and even the kinder people in it had quietly faded out of his life.

Perhaps Dr. Jordan, though—Daniel hadn't seen the man in nearly three years now, mostly out of cowardice in being unsure of how he'd be received. But he had always loved the man and thought he deserved to know that there was a bigger world out there, and he had a gut feeling that Dr. Jordan would love it too. Who knew, maybe he had some assistants who would be promising as well. Certainly Daniel remembered a couple.

Moving on to the business he had scheduled for today, Daniel's last thought on the issue was that Mckay's choices would be far more interesting than his own. Daniel knew the man had layers beneath that crust of arrogance and paranoia, and he tried to keep an eye for when that crust might crack and reveal something. This looked like it might be one of those times.

ooooooo

By the time Sam and Jolinar made it back to the gate, the sun was high in the sky again and they were a little worn. It had been an easier trail going down, though, and they reached the home-world ready to start their next mission. First, though, there were duties.

Shifu was sleeping near Sha're when they reached her room, and Sha're herself was sitting up and reading a Tok'ra screen.

"Sa'm," she said, lacking her usual smile. "Jolinar."

Looking around to see that no one was near, Sam drew near to her. "Sha're," she said in a low tone. "We have been progressing in our search for your people, but we have only been able to do it without the knowledge of the Tok'ra."

Sha're's eyes widened a little, but she nodded. "That is good."

"We don't know anything yet, but we haven't hit a dead end either," said Sam.

Sha're sighed. "I see. But why are you returned so soon?"

"Jolinar's skills are needed here," said Sam with a little quirk of her mouth. "This one may take some time."

"You will be nearby, though?" asked Sha're.

"Not exactly," said Sam. "How have you been?"

Sha're's head wobbled from side to side "Here and there," she said. Looking down at her screen, she said, "I have been furthering my reading skills, though, and learning what the Tok'ra will let me of their history."

Sam smiled. "Just think of all you'll be able to tell Daniel."

Sha're gave a weak smile. "Yes, that will be very nice."

"Jolinar sends her good wishes as well," said Sam. There was an uncomfortable pause as neither knew how to end the conversation. Sha're flashed a half-smile and then looked back to her screen, and Sam and Jolinar left.

Martouf and Lantash were not on the base that day, and so they continued on to meet with Ren'al in a small Tok'ra chamber.

"Jolinar, I am glad that you were able to return," the older Tok'ra said on Sam's arrival.

"Anything for the Tok'ra," said Jolinar, but only Sam knew how ironically meant was that statement.

Ren'al nodded, bringing up a view screen in front of them. "Of all of us, you are most familiar with Goa'uld hunting tactics and avoiding them; our assumption is that Cordesh will base his escape and possible attacks on similar tactics."

"A good assumption, but we will see in the fact," commented Jolinar.

Ren'al nodded, pulling up the records from the night of the escape. The Tok'ra did not have security cameras, but through their various other forms of sensors they had been able to give a rough construct of what had happened. Cordesh had been restrained, had been sullen and unresponsive for the entirety of their weeks-long interrogation, and had suddenly and violently made his escape just two days ago by taking a new host and killing the symbiote inside. Kurlsa had been his name—neither had known him well.

Jolinar's face grew grim as she looked and listened to the evidence. "He's desperate," she said. "Which means he'll fall back to natural behavior instead of the facade he's been portraying for the past years."

Ren'al nodded. "That was our assessment."

"Samantha and I will attempt to track him," said Jolinar. "But if that fails, we shall patrol."

Both Tok'ra nodded to each other, and Ren'al left Sam and Jolinar with the evidence.

~This is a desert planet, how can you track anyone?~ asked Sam.

*It is not your idea of tracking,* said Jolinar. *There is much more deduction and guesswork based on the idea of patterns and logic rather than actual evidence. Cordesh is intelligent and in possession of all his faculties, given by the steps he took to ensure his success. He took Sho'nar, a younger host, and various supplies.*

~So you're saying, we should be able to guess where he'd go by guessing where anyone would go?~

*With a fair amount of doubling back where he tried to throw us off, I'm sure,* said Jolinar. *It will not be as easy as it may sound.*

~And our supplies?~ asked Sam.

*We will travel light,* said Jolinar. *Speed will be on our side, and quickness of thought.*

~Really?~ asked Sam. ~Why?~

*I have been trailed by ashraks for the past century—apart from knowing how to escape them, I know what to expect from others trying to escape,* said Jolinar darkly.

She downloaded all the relevant information into her small device and returned to her chamber to pack. No need to wait—they were fresh and ready to finish this once and for all. Jolinar packed only one change of clothes and a blanket that seemed almost suede in texture. Passing by the Tok'ra storehouse, she filled the rest of the space in the small pack with dried rations. Traditionally they were reconstituted with water, but Jolinar warned Sam that it would be difficult enough to find drinking water on this desert planet. Sam didn't care; military rations might as well all be the same, and she didn't have gourmet tastes.

Finally, though, they were ready to begin.

Ringing up to the surface, Jolinar first took a long look around. Sam could sense the naquadah of many Tok'ra nearby, but they were entirely out of sight. Security had been tightened, and they were not only here by the rings but in a thorough perimeter around the gate. It felt strangely comforting for that short moment as Jolinar scanned the surroundings.

Cordesh had taken off to the west and no one had followed him. Jolinar reached the edge of the Tok'ra patrol area and crouched down. There were a few bushes and brush-weeds here, but mostly just a plain of sand. The winds had blown any normal tracks away.

*Here is where things could go wrong.* Jolinar followed the horizon, looking at the slopes of the hills and dunes and the various ups and downs. Glancing down at the map, she noted where cliffs and water supply were greatest.

Sam waited and watched, until Jolinar moved.

Slipping down the sand hill to cross the plain, she commented to Sam. *I do not see Cordesh going blindly; this early on, he will choose the simplest path.*

~This early on?~

*It has been some time since he escaped, and he will probably expect to be tracked by now. His later trail will require more deduction.*

Following the path of least resistance between sand dunes and patches of brush, Jolinar moved quickly across the desert. Today the sun popped in and out of the clouds, leaving the air warm but humid, with no wind.

A few minutes passed, and Jolinar stopped on the edge of a slight drop. Red-brown rock broke the pattern of sand, falling into the next valley between dunes. Squatting at the edge, Jolinar leaned over and stared closely at the five-foot rock face. Sam wasn't exactly sure what the motivation was, until Jolinar leapt smoothly from the top and landed in the sand below. She ran her fingers through the sand, lightly sifting, looking for something—and then she found it.

*These are newly broken,* she said. *The animal life is small on this planet, and even though this rock is softer than some, only a person could cause this.*

~Good work,~ said Sam, admiring. ~I suppose if you were running you would avoid rocks.~

*You suppose correctly. But knowing that Cordesh was here does not mean we know where he went. It only means that we can be on the lookout for such mistakes, at least for now.*

Rising, glancing around, Jolinar again chose the easiest path to get away from the Tok'ra base. Despite how flat it looked when near the Stargate, the home-world was speckled and dimpled once you got close. Here and there were spiky patches of hostile plants, stones just hidden below the sand's surface, grey sand to mix with golden.

Jolinar followed a winding path between landmarks as the sun reached its peak and wavered slightly before descending just in front of them. Once she stopped to examine a dent in the sand near a patch of brush, and after finding a few sticks arranged in a certain pattern, she told Sam that this was where Cordesh had tried to get water.

~Really?~ asked Sam. ~Is that similar to where you use the moisture that rises from the sand in the night?~

*Indeed,* said Jolinar. *The presence of plant life, however hardy, would indicate more water than elsewhere; it was a smart choice, though he did not cover his tracks.*

~Do you think he's kept up the same pace as us?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar stood up, brushing the sand from her hands and squinted as she looked into the setting sun. *Possibly. He would be on the run at first, so perhaps a quicker pace, but I do not believe he would keep it up. Still, his host is young and strong.*

Sam spared a moment to remind herself that this wasn't just catching a traitor, it was a rescue mission to save the kidnapped host. ~And, how long do you think he will elude both us and the base?~

*A couple days at most,* said Jolinar. *Whatever plan he has to get into our base or through the gate will not be long-term—I am sure he was not planning what he would do after escape. He will grow impatient and afraid.*

~Is there a place on this planet where he could hide and wait?~ asked Sam.

*Not for long,* said Jolinar. *But if we are lucky he will do so.*

~Yeah, when has that ever happened?~ said Sam with a sigh.

They didn't stop to eat, but Jolinar took a bite as they went every once in a while. A couple more slight clues were found, but that was nothing special at this point. After a while, the landscape went smooth for a mile or so, with nothing to distinguish it. Jolinar stood at the edge for a moment, consulting her map and her mind.

*There is a small source of standing water to the south of us,* Jolinar said, looking to the left. *It is far off, but it is possible that Cordesh would choose it. Further west is only more desert, but to the north of us is a much craggier landscape.*

~Hmm,~ said Sam, getting into the hang of things. ~How far have we been traveling?~

*Perhaps twenty miles,* said Jolinar. *The black lake is another thirty or more miles when not as the bird flies, but only ten miles to the north there is a section of cliffs.*

~Just why do you have all this information if you live underground?~ asked Sam.

*There are those of us who study planets' topography,* said Jolinar. *It is an important part of defense systems.*

~Hmm. I do not know Cordesh,~ said Sam. ~But my training would have me go first to avoid capture, and water is too obvious a choice.~

*An excellent observation, but I do not believe Cordesh is military-minded,* said Jolinar. *He has been among the Tok'ra since birth, but even though his mind seems to have turned with age, he has never sought military power or experience like most Goa'uld.*

~So, he might put survival first?~

*Might,* said Jolinar. *That being said, he has the memory of the Tok'ra which contains all our tactics, one being that we accept hardship for necessity's sake. I believe he will go to the north.*

~Let's hope we're right,~ said Sam.

Another hour passed, and the land grew more difficult to traverse. Rocks that formed the basis of dunes made them taller, but the sand slid away when climbed. Not only that, sometimes there were thorny plants uprooted when Cordesh had used them as grips, but had since been covered by sand and bit into Jolinar's hands as she climbed. That didn't improve her mood.

Neither did the heat or lack of good hydration. Some time in the late afternoon, Jolinar's water supply ran out. It wasn't a big deal for her and Sam, as they planned to collect more that night, but it certainly made the frustration of so few clues much greater. As Jolinar had predicted, Cordesh grew increasingly more aware of his trail, but he was no expert at hiding it even then. It helped that the landscape provided few options, but Sam often thought fondly of woodland training exercises where cracked branches and footprints were easily discovered.

Jolinar remained confident in her determination, grit her teeth against the hot wind that picked up in the evening and pressed forward. *We are catching up, slowly,* she said.

Sam wondered how she could know for sure.

Eventually, though, even the sharper vision that Jolinar had given Sam couldn't be trusted not to miss clues. The sun dropped behind the horizon, and with such a landscape, the light soon followed. The moon was a bare sliver in the sky and the starlight, though brilliant beyond that usually found on Earth, was just not enough. Finally, just as they were in the middle of a labyrinth of shallow canyons lined with sand, Jolinar stopped to set up camp. Finding the nearest spot with the most sand and brush, she laid out the blanket she had brought. Then, digging a hole a couple feet deep, she set up a tent and bowl device to collect water through the night.

Sam was surprised to find that she and Jolinar had traveled about thirty miles from the base, considering how she felt. She had almost forgotten the added strength and endurance that Jolinar gave her. Still, the idea of being 24 miles on a straight line from the base was pretty impressive—and a little scary. Unlike on earth, where helicopters or trucks could swoop in to nearly everywhere in a few hours, she and Jolinar were on their own. If there was an emergency on the base, it would take at least 7 hours to get back, and anything could have happened. Jolinar liked the isolation, though, and Sam had to agree a little—the challenge was nice.

Before they went to sleep, Jolinar gave up the control to Sam, and Sam didn't drop off immediately. It was a cool evening, a little moist with the growing cloud-cover, but there were patches of deep and starry black. It was a view Sam had forgotten could exist, living most of her life in cities where the building and street lights seemed designed to reach up into the sky and keep the dark away, ignoring the stars that sought to shine down.

*For a scientist of the skies, you indulge in a simple idea of them,* commented Jolinar quietly.

~I first got into astrophysics because I loved the stars,~ said Sam. ~It's easy to get bogged down in the details after a while, but I still stargaze sometimes.~

Jolinar didn't answer, and there was a moment where Sam felt a semblance of harmony surround both their consciousnesses. It was strange, given the gravity of the situation; it was counterintuitive. It was welcome. Tomorrow they could worry again.

ooooooo

Daniel's hand hesitated above his phone, and he withdrew it and frowned at the list. Apart from his usual duties today, he had taken an extra-long lunch break to go over what Hammond had assigned him. He hadn't been underestimating anything when he told Mckay that he could only think of two people who might hear an offer from him. There were a few of his colleagues that he had once counted as acquaintances, but not for many many years. No, not only would Dr. Jordan have more knowledge of promising archaeologists and anthropologists, he would have the clout to get them to listen.

The problem was, Daniel wasn't so sure that he wanted to make the call. Dr. Jordan was one of the few people who Daniel respected who had never disappointed him, and even though he knew it was just elevating the man on a pedestal, he couldn't shake it off and just call him like an old friend. For a moment he twirled his chair back and forth a little, tapping his pen on the list as if another, easier name would just pop out onto the paper.

Then, almost smacking his own forehead in recognition of his oblivion, he brought up his address book on his computer. How could he have forgotten Catherine? To be sure, they only spoke every month or so, and usually on personal or Stargate issues, but he shouldn't have forgotten that she and Ernest had been archaeologists. Not that he had to extend an invitation to them—they had chosen to reject that last year—but Catherine at least might know some people, and Ernest might remember some old comrades.

Picking up the phone, Daniel quickly calculated what time it was in New York where Catherine lived now, and decided that she'd probably be home. He had just started talking on the answering machine when she picked up.

"Daniel?"

"Catherine," said Daniel warmly. "How are you?"

"Surprised and a little worried at this call—what has gone wrong?"

"Nothing," said Daniel, then bit his lip, then remembered that Catherine wouldn't realize the untruth. "I actually wanted to ask for your help."

"Really?" came Catherine's wary voice.

"Well, I need to get in touch with the archaeology community, and I'm not the whitest sheep of the flock," said Daniel.

"Neither am I, you should recall," said Catherine. "In any case, I haven't been active in that area since we brought Ernest back."

"I just need some contacts, names at the least," he said.

"What is it, Daniel?" asked Catherine, sounding intrigued. "Some even greater discovery? Can you tell me?"

"Yes, I can tell you," said Daniel, smiling. "It's nothing major—just building up the department here. Not just mine, also, but most of the sciences."

"Ah, so your military has finally gotten into its head what got it that gate in the first place," said Catherine.

"I hope so," said Daniel.

"Well, Ernest and I will do what we can, but are you really looking for people our age? I would have thought you'd go back to old classmates." Catherine's words might have been innocent, but Daniel could hear the shrewd probing in her tone.

"We haven't really kept up, Catherine," said Daniel. "In fact, there are a couple I'd be a little afraid to call in case their opinions have festered over the years."

"Mm," said Catherine. "Well, would it hurt to try?"

Daniel gritted his teeth. "Possibly."

"You should try your teachers at least; time softens disapproval more easily than frustration or resentment."

"How did you—" Daniel began, then stopped. "Never mind."

"I'll send over whatever information I can get in an email," said Catherine. "Good luck Daniel—is there any news on the situation with your friend?"

There was a pause as Daniel grasped for words, his mouth opening, closing, and then opening again. "Ah, nothing I'd like to talk about."

A pause on Catherine's end, and then she said, "Take care of yourself, my dear boy."

"As best I can," said Daniel. "Thanks."

He hung up and sighed. He'd have to make that call to Dr. Jordan after all. By the time he made it through the department of the university, his apprehension was nearly gone. By the time his old professor picked up the phone with the old familiar, "Who calls?", it bounced back, but for a second only.

"Dr. Jordan?" he said. "This is Daniel Jackson."

"Daniel? Really?" The tone was surprised, but not indignant. So far so good.

"Yeah, I know it's been a while," said Daniel. "I don't know how welcome this call is, but I needed your advice on something."

"Daniel, you needn't have been worried," said Dr. Jordan, the kindly teaching tone just as he remembered. "I may think you have wasted your life, but remember who taught you to be independent. I thought you might have given up our profession, though—no controversial papers or quests for artifacts to prove your theory. What have you been doing?"

Daniel smiled to himself. Oh, where to begin...

—

Author's Notes: Not much to comment about on the Tok'ra side, other than the security measures. While they are more advanced than us, the leaps in intuition would be different for such an alien race, so the resulting systems should also be different in fundamental ways.

As for the SGC, this story is bringing to light something that I think was implicit in the show; i.e., when and how they recruited newcomers. It must have happened at some point, but as SG-1 wasn't involved we didn't see it. In this story, the loss of Sam and the process of trying to replace her on SG-1 prompted Daniel to think about the issue himself, and what followed on was as you see it in the story.