Chapter 43 - Perception

Sam felt no memory as she woke from her sleep, with only the time piece on the tunnel wall displaying any sense of time. Eight hours. It was too early in the morning for anything to be happening, but they needed more sleep anyway.

Jolinar felt how the release of tears was wearying, and she felt Sam's easy acceptance. Jolinar didn't cry, not like this. Sam didn't really care. She felt exhausted the same way, nose sniffly until Jolinar quickly tweaked that. Sam could feel Jolinar do it as if she herself was, almost.

Do you need that suppressed, Jolinar wondered, and Sam's wondering response was negative, if confused. It was weird, but not quite disturbing. Sam's need to think through everything instead of accepting it was weird as well, or so Jolinar answered. There was still an edge to their minds where commonality failed, but that wasn't the unnatural feeling that Sam had.

~Is something different?~ she asked, knowing that she no longer had to explain the intent behind her words.

*We waited too long, that is all. It feels like a new attachment, no?*

~But it will fade,~ Sam understood.

With time and sleep. Sam needed no words, and the room disappeared into oblivion again. No dreams, despite their mutual fear that they might arrive.

Jolinar woke with a deep intake of breath, sending excitement all through their veins. Today would be a good day. Selmak, saved, dad/Jacob, saved, and the Dorieth mission on the verge of being sanctioned by the Council itself. Tuck Sha're and Daniel and Jack and Teal'c all far away where they didn't cloud the goodness of today.

The corridors were smaller today than yesterday, Sam noticed, and Jolinar didn't have to explain personal preferences mingling with perceptions. Jolinar was less comfortable in her clothing, just for a moment as they dressed, and in a moment of brief change decided against hair gel. It was unclear if it was a concession or a simple desire for change. Both could easily be one now, anyway.

Breakfast tasted stronger when Jolinar's thoughts about it stayed their course right where Sam could see them, forgetting the flavor only so much as was possible, while Sam thought about if it really might taste different, and what if taste was almost purely psychological. Jolinar was intrigued too, but didn't notice until Sam did, and Sam suddenly wondered if everyone had these curiosities but only scientists acted on them. It wasn't a test they could do now, though, and Jolinar knew that better than anyone.

They sat at their usual table, and looked across to where Martouf and Lantash would sometimes come. And Sam missed them, with their smiles and patience and quips, and the cutely tender physical displays of affection that were unconscious after so many decades. It was an easy remembrance, and fondness built from a shallow acquaintance met with fondness distilled from something much deeper and were in sync for the rest of the meal.

Jolinar thought of dad as Jacob, and Sam was amused, off-put, and pleased that a distinction was already clear for something so important. Jolinar had no parents, not of the human way of thinking of them, and the words meant only very little. Any concern now was for Jacob as a close friend of Jolinar's through osmosis. And for him as the new companion to beloved Selmak, self-proclaimed and self-proved oldest and wisest of the Tok'ra, although perhaps both were not always true at once.

By the time they reached the infirmary, it had been over fourteen hours since implantation. Sam saw her father lying peacefully on a bed, hands resting over his chest in a quiet, innocent fashion. Not like Selmak or Jacob at all. Saroosh had died peacefully, had been removed and reverently given a bodily farewell. Sam wouldn't forget, Jolinar couldn't, and Sam wondered if her grief could grow with the more she felt pieces of Jolinar's memories of days gone by.

They sat by Jacob, waiting until he might wake up. Sam might have been bored with an empty mind, but everything that was new or enhanced caught her attention, and she looked at her own mind with intrigue. Jolinar was searching with more intent, exploring a mystery that she had pondered for months. They danced around memories and feelings and processes, until Sam heard a change in the breathing rhythm.

"Dad?" she asked, and was astonished how control was so neatly transferred without hitch like this.

"Is that what our name shall always be?" asked Selmak, blinking through her father's eyes. And Sam could see it, see Selmak there, invisible and yet so plainly in that face. She could feel Selmak even though her eyes said that it was Jacob. Her eyes were learning quickly.

"Not unless you want it to be, Selmak," Sam answered, smiling.

Selmak sat up, stretching his arms. Jolinar made the gender switch so naturally that Sam took a few seconds to notice, and then realize she'd have to get used to it eventually. "Well, that went without an issue," he said. "Jacob is overwhelmed and does not know how to come forward yet." Selmak frowned, nose wrinkling. "Not true," said Jacob's voice a second later. "I was just being polite."

Sam grinned. "I can still call you Dad, right?"

"Whoa..." Jacob said, eyes widening. He shook out his hands. "No more arthritis—why didn't anyone say that would happen?"

*Which is...* Jolinar wondered, knowing that Sam knew, but just pointing out that none of them could have explained it, and not even the Tok'ra hosts might remember.

"Still unsure?" Sam wondered, looking closely at his face.

Of course, Jolinar thought, just as Jacob gave her the look. "Okay, I get it," Sam said with a laugh. And when was her last laugh, why was she doing it now? Sam hadn't even noticed.

Jacob's eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "You look..." he said.

"Different? Yeah, I know what you mean," said Sam.

Two souls in one body, that is Tok'ra, Jolinar thought. It was the simplest explanation—and the most true.

"One thing you can say for Selmak here, but sh—he doesn't feel like someone who's lived thousands of years," said Jacob, clenching and unclenching his fingers as if the painless sensation was the greatest thing in life.

"Really? Jolinar feels..." Old? Not really. Just—long-lived. And that didn't make any sense, but it was true. "But yeah, I'm starting to think symbiotes don't ever lose their passion for life."

Jolinar wondered if losing that was possible, trusted Sam when she said that it was, that Sam had seen it happen before.

"So," Jacob said, his face becoming more serious. "I'd like to speak to Jolinar."

Sam nodded, interested, closing her eyes to let the transfer happen. Jolinar was a hint apprehensive, but no more.

"Jacob," she said, nodding to him. "Have I earned your understanding?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" said Jacob slowly. "Selmak made sure that the first memories I had of you were the ones pertinent to your...situation...with my daughter. I've seen how you've behaved, how my Sam reacted."

"Then Selmak convinced you that your Sam is still here," commented Jolinar, not as surprised as Sam was.

"You've changed her," Jacob said. "And I think you know that. But we all change, and what's happened here is enough for two lifetimes, if I'm reading things correctly."

And missing a whole lot more, thought Sam. She couldn't deny that she was a different person now; not drastically so, maybe, but different. She thought about different things, had different needs, different goals. It was just part of the experience. And Jolinar knew it too, knew that she was behaving differently than if Rosha was still alive.

"But I can honestly say I believe that you told the truth," said Jacob finally, letting out a little of his breath. "You didn't mean for this to happen, and I'm glad you've made the best of it."

"Then I have earned your forgiveness?" Jolinar asked, honestly.

"If you do right by my Sam, yes," said Jacob firmly. "But I warn you, that'll be a hard call."

Jolinar's eyebrows rose and fell in a second. "Of course."

"God, Selmak's already focused on what happens next," Jacob commented, looking through Sam and Jolinar as if he was focused on what was going on in his own head. "He's very happy, smugly happy. And...he says that he's starting to get a handle on all those parental emotions he never understood before."

~Oh no,~ thought Sam.

Jolinar cocked her head, confused.

Jacob said nothing, just sighed. "Well, I think that's all I have a mind for at the moment. Selmak has some words." He dipped his head, coming up with the unmistakeable look of Selmak.

"What are these parental emotions that you and Jacob share?" Jolinar asked. "I do not understand."

"Child, please, you understand them already," said Selmak with a chuckle. "Or if not, your host certainly does."

~I did always kind of notice that Selmak treated you like a child...well, now both of them have parental feelings for us separately that are now combined. I think we can expect smothering, if we can't quash it soon.~

*In the name of all the worlds that...indeed, quash it we must.* Sam wasn't sure if she agreed more or was amused more by Jolinar's disgust.

"I am no child of yours, Selmak," Jolinar warned, one eyebrow raised.

"Of course," agreed Selmak, with no concession in his tone. "But now, tell me, what of your mission?"

Jolinar sighed. "Samantha knows more, and I do not wish to say it all again." Sam had a weird thought of growing up with Mark, and how he would push her in front of him to explain to their father why the lamp was smashed and they held grandpa's canes. As Jolinar ducked behind her consciousness now, Sam felt very strange and, despite the dead seriousness all around them, she and Selmak at least seemed to have found a bubble of peace and amusement. "It was nothing much," she admitted out loud. "We chose it because I knew the Tollan before, and was close to their ambassador."

"Ah, the Tollan, say no more," said Selmak, putting up his hand. "I agree with Jolinar on this point, as unusual as that may seem."

Sam nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," said Selmak, with a blink. "Your father, as I predicted, is very amenable now that he knows better. I believe we shall do well together."

Sam sighed, knowing that it wasn't the answer she wanted, but knowing from Jolinar that Selmak would not speak of it. Just as closely as Jolinar guarded the memories of her past losses, Selmak would put them away to be dealt with at a much further date. It was Sam who needed to move on, for now.

"So, I suppose we should probably leave you to rest some more," Sam said after a moment, Jolinar giving her the idea.

Selmak nodded. "It is understood. Samantha?"

"Yes?" Sam asked, curious at the sudden change in Selmak's face.

"Your father spoke to Sha're while you were absent," Selmak said. "She is not well; I believe Jacob was of some good to her, but I may guess with some certainty that you would not be."

It was honest, but it hurt. Sam didn't try to hide how her eyes dropped and her chest deflated just slightly. She pushed it back up, straightening her back and knowing that she wasn't going to stop and give up now. And Jolinar, Jolinar didn't even understand, but Sha're was somehow precious to them both.

"Thanks for letting me know," she said, steady voice. Jolinar had a moment where she wondered if Sam had always been this way, this tied to what "should" be done. And Sam wondered right back, especially because Jolinar didn't disagree.

Leaving Selmak and her father reclined on their bed, eyes shut in rest and continued blending, Sam and Jolinar walked out of the infirmary. Today was a day of rest before their mission called again. And the mission, the mission. Sam couldn't see how she was truly dutiful if she could forget it like this, even with Jolinar offering back that these times of personal needs were not as often as she might think.

They walked down the corridors, in no particular direction as they waited for inspiration to strike. Two Tok'ra passed, and Sam started and turned her head.

~Whoa...I know Goa'uld.~

*So you do,* answered Jolinar with a mental smirk.

~I guess you don't worry about an easy language for hosts to learn if they pick it up automatically.~ Daniel would love this, the thought barely registering before repression acted automatically to change the subject. Memories of past experiences, of monuments and Jaffa talking to their gods, all altered with her new clarity towards their content. This was...amazing, and strange, and weird, and...amazing.

Jolinar was excited, and Sam wondered if her natural reaction should be fear, but in the face of all this, she just couldn't. If she had to describe it, it was as if her mind now existed separate from her body, with her and Jolinar taking turns in wearing it. It had started before, but already she was thinking of herself as a consciousness. ~Wow, this is fast,~ she thought, a bit of fear at that thought at least.

*But as a scientist, surely you know that the mind is more than the body.*

~That doesn't mean the body is worth nothing—you know that, though.~

Jolinar did, but she had lived as a consciousness for millennia, and Sam didn't want to seem as if she felt herself better than her. And then Jolinar seemed to think that she was better, which Sam didn't understand, because apart from the cleaner past—except, maybe that was enough for Jolinar. Sam could still roll her eyes at it, and enjoyed Jolinar's appreciation of the response.

"Samantha?"

Sam looked up from where they were walking, and saw Anise standing there. "Yes?" she answered, blinking.

"You look surprisingly removed from life," Anise commented. "Has there been trouble?"

Sam's lip quirked. Jolinar didn't know how to describe her answer, a little unnerved by Anise's look of interest in it. "Yes, and no. Jolinar and I were merely conversing."

"Then if you are not otherwise detained or unwilling, I have something to speak to you about," said Anise, clasping her hands loosely in front of her.

"Here?" Sam asked, surprised. Suspicion was already flowing from Jolinar, and Sam told her to quit it.

"Actually, if you would accompany to my lab," Anise said, gesturing with one hand.

"Of course," said Sam. Curiosity rose to the fore again, even given her experiences with this Tok'ra.

"You left the mission quickly, but Reyfa and I spent more time on the Goa'uld lab that we discovered," explained Anise as they walked with long steps. "It did not have anything of use to the Tok'ra, and so we were unfortunately forced to abandon it for more urgent missions, but we brought back the downloaded records for our historians. It would not have been priority, except for the first notice of the name of the Tau'ri."

"Ah," said Sam. "But you know where that is now, why should you care?"


"Perhaps we would not have, except for a question of clarification," Anise said. They entered her lab, and Sam's eye immediately circled it, fascinated with the order and—handwritten notes? Interesting, and strange, if Jolinar's reaction was anything to judge by. "Samantha, what do you have in your histories that mentions Egeria?"

Sam drew a blank, only knowing from Jolinar that she was the Tok'ra queen, their foremother. "Nothing that I know, though it's not really my field."

"Hmm," said Anise. "This document mentions her extended stay on your planet, which would be before her execution by Ra, but we would have expected some of the stories written in Ra's honor to mention his most dangerous enemy, even if as a despicable traitor."

"Sorry, but that isn't ringing any bells," said Sam, and felt Jolinar's pleasure in finally understanding all this phrases, and wondering if they were worth using herself. "I didn't know you cared for such things.

"It is not my field either," said Anise. "However, our historian is very timid and did not wish to approach you."

Or rather, Jolinar, as Sam and Jolinar immediately recognized and saw in Anise's face. Jolinar didn't profess to care that she intimidated some, but Sam wondered just how true that was. "Was there anything else about Earth?" she asked.

"I do not know," said Anise, shaking her head a little. "I was most interested in the scientific records, but they have proved to contain only ancient documents that are of no use today."

"Are you sure? I'd think you'd want to look for things that the Goa'uld wouldn't remember how to defeat."

Anise gave a tight sigh. "No, Samantha. Do you not think that over the past thousand years I have considered every option?"

"No," answered Sam, but smiling. "There's a lot out there."

Anise looked her in the eye, held it for a moment, then seemed to look through Sam and she and Jolinar suspected Freya's influence. "There is," she said finally. "But though you were once a scientist, your ways of science are not our ways."

"I can see," said Sam. "Is that all?"

Anise nodded. "The search for records of Egeria has been long, and I am disappointed that your world, as Ra's center, does not have any. However, it is much more pleasant to know now that there is no point in the search for the Tauri. There is a chance that the addresses among the histories may have further information if there is ever time to explore them."

Sam took that as thanks, and Jolinar reluctantly followed. She bowed her head, and left the lab. ~I wonder if she has spoken to Sha're,~ thought Sam. ~I can't imagine Sha're would let Anise anywhere near her, especially not now, but I wonder if she's tried.~

*I do not think so. Her worry was for the harcesis; now that Shifu is not a danger, the Tok'ra are safe and she is unconcerned.*

~Must be nice to have such simple goals.~

*Sometimes, yes.*

ooooooo

Daniel got the note around lunchtime, just before Mckay dropped by his office.

"What's this?" the scientist asked. The two days at home had improved his look, and despite his complaints, he had been keeping up with Brymon and his therapy.

"I don't know, I just got it," Daniel said, frowning as he saw the title of the memo. Revised Schedule. Schedules were never revised to add something new, and this was no different.

"We're being put on stand-by?" Mckay asked, taking one of Daniel's seats despite the dust.

"This doesn't make sense..." Daniel said, lips pursed as he skimmed through the formal page. "Where's the explanation? Why would our missions be cancelled? Surely that throws off everyone else."

"I shouldn't even care, but come on, what's the point?" agreed Mckay. "This is idiotic, putting the foremost team on hold for, what, a month?"

"The only missions left are repeat ones," said Daniel as he got into the meat of things, mind jumping around looking for possibilities. "Look—the Land of Light, Cimmeria, reassessing Nasya and Abydos later on. You can't account for back-up missions and digs or finds, but this is sparser than anywhere near necessary."

"This is not a good sign," muttered Mckay, crumpling the paper and letting it drop into Daniel's wastebasket.

"What's new?" Daniel murmured.

"No, this is new," said Mckay. "There's something between the lines; it doesn't feel right."

"You work for a conspiracy; being a theorist doesn't suit you, Rodney," said Daniel dryly.

"Well, maybe you see things a little too straight for someone who's worked in a conspiracy for more than two years," retorted Rodney. "I'm serious, Jackson, this is not good."

Daniel's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

Mckay just looked at him, eyes disappointed in Daniel. And in a moment, Daniel was disappointed with himself. They should be reasoning this out. "Okay, then, what reasons could they have to limit our missions, apart from the obvious."

"What obvious?" Mckay answered, despite his arm closely wrapped in a sling. "They couldn't have found missions where the possibility of science being useful was nil?"

"Possibly not," Daniel defended. "But anyway, there would have been an explanation. This is just military talk, follow orders and don't ask why. The problem with that is that they only do that when there's something wrong underneath."

"You think it has something to do with the whole place almost getting shut down?" Mckay asked, worry and thought mingled in his face.

Daniel's eyebrows lifted for a moment, then fell. "No, that was settled." They rose again. "But no, wait—"

"What's going on?" Dixon asked, showing up at the door. "Someone die?"

"Possibly the team," Mckay said darkly, turning his head.

"What?" Dixon asked, crossing his arms.

"We don't know anything," Daniel amended. "But this memo that just came down from Hammond? No new missions, and not even regular follow-up ones."

"Okay, yeah, that sucks," said Dixon, leaning against the doorframe.

"No reason for it, either," said Mckay. "Doesn't that sound a bit off?"

"Hmm." Dixon's brow narrowed, eyes deepening. "You think Hammond's trying to protect us from what's going on upstairs?"

"What is going on upstairs?" Daniel asked, confused.

"The Colonel didn't talk to you?" Dixon answered.

"No, what?" Mckay asked, impatient.

"Well, the whole thing with Carter and the Goa'uld...Hammond wasn't happy about it, but O'Neill thinks it's going to be a lot worse farther up. He said they were called back when Jolinar was in our custody, and really put up a fuss when she escaped. Now? Hammond didn't say anything, but O'Neill thinks he can guess that there's a lot of blame being thrown at us."

"Should have guessed," Daniel sighed. Suddenly it was all making sense, and he felt like an idiot civilian for not being able to figure it out.

"They're saying it's our fault," Mckay said, nodding, looking back to Daniel. "I thought they approved the mission."

"Well, you know, they can always say they were forced into the decision," Dixon said, shifting his position against the door. "That's how politics work, especially military politics."

Daniel rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, sighing again. "There's a possibility that we'll get shut down. Or at least the equivalent—limited personnel, rolls of red tape on each mission."

"Well, we can't know that," Dixon said, a little scoffing. "And we can't go around expecting it either."

"No," agreed Daniel. "But what if it does happen? What if they fire us? I can't just get another job and leave the planet to any Goa'uld who comes along...I can't just live and not keep my promise to Sha're." His fingertip rested on the memo, tapping each letter of the ominous title.

"Come on, Jackson, what else would you do?" Mckay asked, and Daniel could see in his eyes that the Stargate wasn't personal for him. Not yet.

Daniel looked up to Dixon, frowning and leaning against the door. It was the opposite for him; he had too much at stake here. Even so... "We did it last time, using the Stargate illegally to save Earth," he admitted. "There's another gate...if it came down to it, I'd find a way, get off world—"

"And die," said Mckay. "Yeah, great plan, Jackson."

Daniel's head cocked to one side, but there was a slight grimace. He had nearly died last time.

"This is not the time to be having this discussion," Dixon said, warningly.

Daniel glanced to Mckay. The scientist shrugged. "True," said Daniel. He laughed half-heartedly. "We really are getting paranoid, aren't we?"

"Understandable, maybe, but yeah," said Dixon, chuckling.

Mckay hmphed and rose to leave, Dixon a couple steps ahead. Daniel glanced once more at the memo, and then tossed it in his wastebasket.

—

Author's Notes: Just to clarify from last chapter, Sam has not agreed to give up Earth and join the Tok'ra completely. She has fully blended with Jolinar for the duration of the (admittedly long) mission they're about to undergo—and that will inhibit a later separation of the two, but not prohibit it.

Also, from this chapter; several readers brought up why the NID didn't have anything to say about Jolinar escaping in Chapter 3. Since the SGC side of this story is from Daniel's point of view, just because it isn't mentioned doesn't mean it didn't happened. It was necessary that Daniel stay in the dark until the problem was immediately relevant; the government was unhappy with what happened with Sam/Jolinar, but it wasn't until the SGC lost them again and Jacob also that they started to interfere.