General Hammond affirmed what Janet had said – no further news. The missing Russian sub seemed to have vanished without trace which presented a considerable headache for the military. Losing a Russian sub so close to American shore was never going to go down well with the higher echelons of power, but misplacing one potentially crawling with alien bugs was particularly unfortunate; Certain people were going to have some difficult questions to answer.
The fact that the bug alien thing was waiting, biding its time and doing whatever it was that it did was a deeply disturbing thought, but, as long as remained undetected all the military could do was plan for as many different eventualities as possible. Daniel was disinclined to return to the game of 'make-a-wild-guess-at-the-enemy' and decided that his time was better spent focused on the problem of the Stargate. After all, once SG-1 were back, they would be able to tell them what they were up against. It was just a case of hoping that the alien presence held off until then.
Consequently, Daniel was now crouched on the floor in front of one of his book many bookshelves, squinting as he rapidly scanned titles. Every now and again he paused and pulled a volume out and skimmed rapidly through its pages before discarding it with a tut or a sigh. Occasionally, he found something more promising and put it down to one side.
Squatting on his haunches he inspected the 'potentially useful' stack. He had a quite a lot of volumes on Abydonian history that might include relevant stories. Mission reports from the various planets they had visited could be worth re-reading and he had a reasonably good collection of random ancient history books that he had picked up off-world. But he wished he had more books specifically about the Stargate system. He also regretted not bothering to learn more about the science behind wormhole travel and gate mechanics. Still, he had more than enough to make a start. He schlepped the heap over to his desk and dumped them unceremoniously down next to the lamp. Immediately the pile teetered and he had to lunge to prevent the whole lot from cascading down to the floor. Minor disaster averted he sat down, adjusted the angle of the light and picked up the first book.
If he hadn't been anxiously seeking answers, Daniel would have really enjoyed re-reading the Abydonian legends about the intrepid traveller Rabidah whose tales included an action-packed account of stowing away upon a great ship of monsters after the gate upon a world to which he had travelled mysteriously stopped working. He would have been equally fascinated by the account of a race against time to reconnect the gate on Simarka after a freak accident severed the connection between it and the DHD. There were stories of broken control crystals, sabotaged DHD's and inexplicable loss of power. But there was nothing that seemed equivalent to the SGC's problem. He was momentarily distracted when he came across a report of a mysterious disappearance of a group of campers from Stonehenge following an unearthly glow in the middle of an electrical storm in 1971 (how had he not known about this before?) but for the most part he read with frenzied urgency rather than interest.
After several hours Daniel yawned, took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, wishing he had his usual stamina. Trying to skim read whilst translating didn't normally present a problem but today he was finding it tough. So long sitting at his desk had left his back uncomfortably stiff and the hunched posture had aggravated yet another escalating tummy ache; not particularly bad yet, but painful enough to be an irritating distraction and a nagging reminder that he was still supposed to be convalescing. He slid his hand under his T shirt and rubbed his stomach experimentally, carefully avoiding the incision. Everything from his navel to his groin felt bruised and tender as though he had gone a few rounds with Teal'c. Deciding a change of position and perhaps some more painkillers were in order Daniel stood up stiffly, fetched his meds and took a couple, hoping to smother the discomfort. Reluctantly he made up his mind to abandon things that required translating until the Tylenol took effect and he picked up a folder full of mission reports instead. Flicked through the first few pages brought a tumble of memories and a wave of nostalgia; so many places, so many narrow escapes. Suddenly a phrase caught his eye and he froze, his eyes skating back and forth as he re-skimmed the passage again.
'That has to be it!' he murmured, letting the folder slip from his slack grasp. He blinked myopically, eyes slow to adjusted after hours spent reading at close range. 'It explains everything.' With an expression of triumph and concern he hurried out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind him.