Speaking of Beetle's Nothing...
Mar. 4th, 2007 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grav_ityPart One
Part Two
The Memories Begin
“Woman! Woman!” came the frantic whisper. “Tau’ri!”
Her eyes flew open and she stared up into a darkened face.
“What the hell – ” she began
“Hush,” the whisper came again, “My name is Tara’c. I am a free Jaffa warrior and you are Taur’i.”
“Yes,” she replied, remembering. “Yes, I am. What is happening?”
“I was killed by the warriors of Lord Yu when the Jaffa were taken in by Imhotep,” Tara’c said. “I awoke here and they told me I would serve my new god.”
“Imhotep?” she said. “That was almost two years ago.”
“Nay, woman,” He disagreed. “It is closer to three.”
“What?” she asked, then changed her mind. “Never mind. What god?”
“His name is Kephrey. He has been building an army in secret for many years. There are many different Jaffa here.”
“Any more rebels?”
“Yes,” he replied, “Almost three dozen. We decided to co-operate until we could get a message to Master Bra’tac.”
“How many – ” she began, but Tara’c raised his hand to silence her.
“The priests come. Pretend to sleep. I will be back later, when they leave you for the night.” Tara’c inclined his head to her. “Woman, I would ask your name.”
“My name?” She racked her brain, knew it was in there somewhere.
“My name is Janet Fraiser.”
------
The land which surrounded Khirbat al-Mudayna was unforgiving at best. The dry wadi bed was spotted with pink oleander flowers, but aside from those and the painstakingly irrigated and rather small wheat fields, there was little vegetation. Instead, the hills were covered with sun-blasted limestone and the sheep and goats nosed among the rocks for the wilted and shrubby greens. There was an isolation here, a loneliness that was palpable even when one was in a group of people. In short, it was perfect for clandestine conversations.
“I didn’t know was I was doing,” Jason began once they had put a significant distance between themselves and the Tel. “I thought it was code-breaking. When the NID recruited me, they told me it was because I was an epigrapher, not an archaeologist.”
Jack carefully selected a rock and sat down on it. The rest of SG-1 followed suit and after a few minutes, Jason gave up pretending to survey and took a seat as well.
“I was translating something that was similar to Latin, but not quite,” Jason continued. “They told me it was in the interests of national security.”
“Well, they weren’t completely lying,” Jack said. “What did it say?”
“It was a message from a person named Osiris to a person named Anubis.” SG-1 sat up straighter. “I thought it was pretty ridiculous for code names. The message said ‘My lord Anubis: I have found the Beetle’s trail. Once my mission with Daniel Jackson is complete, I shall track the Beetle to his lair.’
“There was also a large data file about the Beetle. I kept a copy. It’s in my hotel room in Madaba and it talks about a man named Kephrey.”
“When did you realize it wasn’t a code?” Sam asked.
“When I read the data file. I wasn’t supposed to, but I recognized your name, Daniel, and I wanted to know what was going on. And then I realized that they were real people, not code names.”
“What did the file say about Kephrey?” Daniel asked.
“He lived in Egypt in the time of Ra and controlled the aerial Stargate.”
“So you do know what that is?” Daniel cut in.
“I’ve never seen one, but I mis-translated it on purpose, if that’s what you mean.” Jason admitted. “I needed to get your attention.”
“It worked.”
“Anyway, Ra and Kephrey had a falling out and Kephrey fled and took the gate with him.” Jason continued. “He brought it here, to Mudayna and set up a kingdom in Moab.”
“That is…amazing!” Daniel exclaimed in a breathless voice.
“I know,” Jason agreed. “It makes everything so – ”
“Point please, gentlemen!” Jack cut in.
“Right.” Jason shook his head slightly. “When the Israelites attacked, they overwhelmed Kephrey’s forces. He made his last stand in the temple and then fled with the last few of his followers through the Stargate.”
“Have you found anything about a device used to control the Stargate?” Sam asked
“That’s why I volunteered to do the survey.” Jason said. “From what I understand, the Gate itself is buried on the Tel. After the Israelites sacked and burned the town, they buried the Gate because it was too big to destroy. If I’m right, it should be in Field E, at the back of the Tel. The control device was moved, though, by Kephrey’s own men, to keep the invaders from controlling the Gate.”
“There is a matter which is still unclear to me,” Teal’c said. “What use would a Stargate be to the NID? Even with the Dial Home Device, we would be aware of their off-world movements and be able to track them down.”
“They don’t want the Stargate,” Jason explained. “They want Kephrey. Or what’s left of his technology, I imagine. Kephrey is probably long dead.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Jack. “But why Kephrey? What makes him special?”
“I am not really an Egyptologist,” Jason said apologetically, “so I can’t be certain about this, but from what I gather, Kephrey is one of the gods of rebirth. The scarab beetle buries itself in the sand for months at a time and can resuscitate itself when favourable conditions return.”
“Jack,” Daniel said, “if Kephrey’s godhead has some basis in the truth – ”
“Then that’s what the Trust is after.” Jack finished. He turned to Jason. “Could you give us a few moments please?”
Jason looked like he had more questions, but walked away as requested.
“Sir, what are you thinking?” Sam asked.
“I think it’s time we stop playing archaeologists and start…well, being archaeologists.” Jack said. “Where is the Prometheus?”
“It could be here tomorrow,” Sam said.
“Alright then. When we get back to Madaba I’ll call Cheyenne Mountain and have it directed here. Will you be able to come up with a scanner that will detect the Gate and the DHD?”
“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Sam said. “I’ll just reconfigure the—”
“Excellent,” said Jack. “How much longer do we have to stay out here?”
------
“Remind me again why we’re going back to the field today,” Jack said. He squinted at the horizon as the first few rays or sunshine began to break over it.
“Because the Prometheus won’t be here until tonight and if the Trust shows up today we should be there?” Daniel offered.
“Will the Trust not simply beam up the Stargate themselves?”
“A lot of my plan depends on them not having a ship,” Jack admitted.
“I don’t think they do, sir,” Sam said. She rolled up her window as the dust from the wadi starting pouring through it. “If they did, they would have beamed it out long before Jason got here.”
“Wonderful,” Jack said as the car lurched to a stop. They all got out and got their gear out of the trunk.
“Ah…you have returned!” They heard Dr. Wilfrid call out. The woman sounded much too excited for the early hour. “Jason is going to be setting in points on the Tel today, if you would care to join him, Dr. Jackson.”
“That would be nice.” Daniel said. Sam was almost sure he was being genuine.
“Your colleagues are welcome to join in wherever they like.” Dr. Wilfrid smiled. “The more the merrier!”
“Indeed.” Teal’c said.
Just then, two buses pulled up beside where the truck was parked and a horde of tired looking-students piled off them. They milled around for a few minutes and then started up the Tel to the supply tent where they had all had second breakfast the previous day. Jack fell in beside the red-head he had spoken to the day before and asked if she would mind an extra hand for day. She seemed surprised, but conceded quickly enough. Teal’c was deep in conversation with Dr. Bishop; the latter was gesturing emphatically, and Sam had elected to stay at the bottom of the Tel and work alongside the students there.
Jack had never really given much thought to what it meant to be an archaeologist. Usually, SG-1 was only called in after something was found and even then, only when it was interesting or different. What faced him this morning was mostly made of dirt and some horrible kind of rock that fell apart under the slightest pressure and was then excruciatingly difficult to pick up and get out of the square. The red-head happily answered all the questions he peppered her with and he was eventually able to determine pottery, or fugar as they called it, from the rock, or hajar.
After a couple of hours, a water break was called and Jack climbed up to get his water out of his backpack. The red-head was standing on the western edge of the square and squinting at something Jack couldn’t quite see.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
“There’s a car,” she said, sounding puzzled.
“Are they coming here?”
“There’s nowhere else to go,” she pointed out.
“Nobody here drives a car that nice.” The dark haired boy Jack remembered from yesterday had joined them.
“Unless they work for the government.”
“Would you guys excuse me for a bit?” Jack said.
“Of course,” said the red head. “You’re free to go whenever you like. We’re the indentured workers.”
“I’ve had a great morning,” Jack said and surprised himself by not being sarcastic. “Hopefully I’ll see you later.”
The two students smiled and said good-bye and headed back to work. By the time Jack had rounded up Teal’c, Daniel and Jason, the car had reached the wadi. They watched it drive through and then park at the bottom of the Tel. Dr. Bishop and Dr. Wilfrid joined them. Sam made her way out of the ruins she’d been working in just as the party was exiting the car. It was hard to read body language from so far away, but there was no doubt in Jack’s mind about what he was seeing: his 2IC was very, very worried.
The final figure exited the car and pulled out a hat to cover his balding head. Jack stiffened and felt Daniel and Teal’c react as well. Daniel grabbed Jason’s arm and began muttering in his ear what Jack assumed were variations of “don’t panic”. Drs. Wilfrid and Bishop did not react at all, but then they were Canadian and therefore less likely to recognize a disgraced and publicly dead former Vice President of the United States of America.
Neither Kinsey nor any of his party were visibly armed, but Jack could hardly forget that he was surrounded by unarmed children. He forced himself to relax and hoped that this situation would be resolved without bloodshed.
“Look!” said Dr. Wilfrid. Jack started. “It’s Nasr. He must have hitched a ride with them.”
Jack’s eyes drifted down the Tel, not to the workman, but to Sam. She was signing at him, using the signs they’d developed for just such an occasion: the number five and then the sign for Goa’uld. Every person climbing the Tel had a snake in their head, and there was another in the car.
“Dr. Jackson!” Kinsey called out when they were in hearing range. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“Hello,” said Dr. Wilfrid. She sounded slightly put out. “Welcome to Mudayna. My name is –”
“We know who you are, Dr. Wilfrid.” Only SG-1 and Jason appreciated the veiled threat in that statement. “I have many friends in the Ministry.”
“Are you here for a tour?”
The Trust operatives and SG-1 eyed each other cautiously. Sam had not joined them, choosing instead to stay with the car and the operative who had not made the climb. Jack knew that his team was armed, but only with their sidearms. He could only assume that the Trust was similarly armed. They hadn’t come here for violence; there were too many people for the weapons they had.
“No, Dr. Wilfrid. We’re here to give you this.” Kinsey handed over a rather official looking document.
“There must be some mistake.” Dr. Wilfrid said in a puzzled tone.
“I am afraid not, Dr. Wilfrid.” Kinsey’s smile grew larger. “You are hereby requested to withdraw from the field until further notice.”
“You can’t just –”
“Yes, Dr. Wilfrid, I can.” Kinsey made no attempt to disguise the threat in his tone this time. “I have the full support of the Minister of Antiquities, as you will note at the bottom of page four.”
Dr. Wilfrid looked back over her students and set her jaw. “Very well.”
As the two professors went off to gather up their students, Kinsey turned to Jason and smirked.
“Dr. Owens. You’ve fallen in with a new crowd I see.”
“I have.” Jason said, managing not to blanche any more than he already had.
“How’s that working out for you?” Kinsey smarmed.
“It’s working out just fine.”
“You should have stuck with us, Owens,” Kinsey said. “You might have lived.”
“You mean you would have snaked him,” Jack cut in. “That’s not what I’d call living.”
“You were always narrow minded.” Kinsey’s Goa’uld voice took over: “Now get off my Tel. We have work to do.”
“This isn’t over, Kinsey.”
“It’s never over, Jack.”
------
The car ride back to Madaba was mostly silent. Sam and Teal’c had surreptitiously examined the taxi driver and revealed that he was fully human, but no one really knew what to say.
“We’ll have to take him with us, sir,” Sam said finally as they were pulling into Madaba. “They’ll kill him if he stays.”
“I know,” Jack replied. “Daniel, you go pick him up and bring him back to the hotel after we get dropped off. We’ll all…leave town together tonight.”
Daniel nodded and spoke to the taxi driver in Arabic.
“When is our ride due, Carter?”
“In about eight hours,” Sam said. “Sir, I think they’re going to dig for it. And they may not even know where the DHD is. It’ll be tight, but I think we have the time to beat them.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
The taxi pulled up in front of the Mariam and Sam, Jack and Teal’c piled out. They took their gear from the trunk and then Daniel and the driver set out for The Black Iris, the hotel that Jason was staying in. Daniel asked the cab to wait for him, and went inside.
The Black Iris was much darker than the Mariam, but the foyer was much bigger. A man dozed on the sofa, but he got up immediately when Daniel came in.
“Hello, sir,” said the man. “I have no free rooms.”
“Actually, I am here to see Jason Owens. Could you tell me where he is?”
“Ah, Mister Jason. I like him. His Arabic very good.” The man smiled. “He is in room 307. Go down the stairs, through the glass door and then back up the stairs on your right to the third floor.”
“Thank you, salaam,” Daniel replied and headed off.
The upper floors of the Black Iris were well-ventilated and Daniel could feel the wind moving through the hall way. He knocked on room 307 and wait a few seconds.
“Who is it?” Jason sounded very tense.
“It’s Daniel, Jason.” Daniel said. “Let me in.”
Daniel heard the door unbolt and then it opened to reveal Jason holding a zat’ni’katel and looking as harried as he’d sounded.
“How in the world did you get that past customs?”
“What? Oh, it doesn’t register as a weapon. They thought it was a hair-dryer,” Jason said. “What are you doing here?”
“You have to leave.”
“You think?”
Daniel looked around and realized that Jason was packing his things.
“Oh. Well I think you should leave with us,” Daniel said. “You know the Prometheus?”
“I’ve heard the word.”
“It’s a ship. It’s going to be here in a few hours to get us out. We’re also going to beam up the Gate and Sam is going to make a scanner to find the DHD.”
“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?”
“Because…we needed to talk to you.” Daniel refused to be side-tracked. “Look, the Trust is probably going to kill you as soon as they can. I think you should come back with me to the Mariam and we’ll all wait for the Prometheus together.”
“What am I going to tell Dr. Wilfrid?”
“In about three minutes, the man at the desk is going to answer the phone and find out that you have a very sick aunt and as executor of her estate, you have to fly home and sign the papers that will take her off of life support.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Can I help you pack?”
------
The Prometheus arrived right on schedule and SG-1, their increasingly uncomfortable companion, and all of his luggage were beamed aboard. Sam got straight to work on the sensor platform that would pick up the DHD from orbit and it too was located in short order. The Prometheus altered her orbit slightly so that Cheyenne Mountain was in beaming range.
“Send the Gate to these coordinates, Colonel,” Sam requested, tapping on her console.
“Forwarding coordinates now,” Pendergast replied. “Gate is away and the DHD has followed. Where do you want me to set you?”
“Why don’t you beam us directly to the briefing room?” Jack suggested. “I’ve done enough walking for a day.”
“Aye, sir!” Pendergast said, and the Prometheus faded in a bright white light.
------
Sam put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes in frustration. She was surrounded by power crystals and computers and empty coffee cups. It had been almost four hours since she’d begun her analysis and so far she had nothing to show for it.
The phone rang and she got up to answer it, ignoring the cracking sounds made by her long-unmoved bones.
“Carter,” she said.
“Hey, Colonel,” Jack drawled. “What have you got?”
“Nothing, sir,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“All is not lost, Carter.” Jack was clearly very bored. When they had arrived home and rested for a bit, Sam had gone to her lab and Jason, Daniel and Teal’c had gone to do some research, but the General had to go back to dealing with the day to day details of base operations. “The book guys have found something that Daniel says is very promising.”
“I’ll be right up, sir.”
Sam got to Daniel’s lab as quickly as she could, desperate to find something out about the DHD they had recovered.
“Hi, Sam. Have a seat.” Daniel said and then got straight to business. “In last year’s field season, some of Dr. Wilfrid’s students found an ivory scarab in field E.”
“The field she said was empty?” Sam asked.
“What’s a scarab?” Jack queried.
“Yes, and it’s a kind of seal,.” Daniel answered. “Before people used their signatures to confirm business deals, they would use seals. Scarab seals are in the shape of a beetle, and then the bottoms are carved with the symbols or mark of a person’s name. The Mudayna scarab was probably worn on a ring, but the band is gone.”
“Okay,” said Jack. “How does this help us?”
“The field notes say that the scarab has fake hieroglyphics on it for the seal’s imprint,” Daniel explained. “Dr. Wilfrid thought that they were marks made by someone who knew that hieroglyphs were important, but didn’t know what letters they stood for; that they just made a pretty picture. Teal’c and I had a look and we think it’s a Gate address.”
“SG-12 is currently giving a report from P3X-936. They’re scheduled to be done in 20 minutes. When they’re clear, we’ll send a MALP.”
The phone rang and Sam went to answer it.
“Carter,” she said, then: “It’s for you, sir.”
Jack went to the phone and the rest of SG-1 listened to a half-conversation, then he hung up.
“I had Walter keep any news from Madaba flagged,” he said. “It seems there was a break in at the museum last night. One of the scarab cases was smashed.”
“They know!” Jason said. “They’re going to be right behind us.”
“There is yet no cause for alarm, Dr. Owens,” Teal’c said smoothly. “The Trust operatives must travel to another planet in order to access a Stargate. We will have sent out probe before they are able to do so.”
“Teal’c’s right, Jason,” Daniel said. “We’ve got lots of time.”
“All the same,” Jack said, “I think I would feel more comfortable if we all went up to the control room now. Make sure you bring that address!”
------
AN:* Many academic archaeologists have two specialties: the actual practical skills of digging/mapping/surveying, and then a more specific topic like an ancient language or a type of pottery.
Also, Sam really invents the naquadah thingy in “Ex Deus Machina”, but I had to give it to her early.
Part Four
Part Two
The Memories Begin
“Woman! Woman!” came the frantic whisper. “Tau’ri!”
Her eyes flew open and she stared up into a darkened face.
“What the hell – ” she began
“Hush,” the whisper came again, “My name is Tara’c. I am a free Jaffa warrior and you are Taur’i.”
“Yes,” she replied, remembering. “Yes, I am. What is happening?”
“I was killed by the warriors of Lord Yu when the Jaffa were taken in by Imhotep,” Tara’c said. “I awoke here and they told me I would serve my new god.”
“Imhotep?” she said. “That was almost two years ago.”
“Nay, woman,” He disagreed. “It is closer to three.”
“What?” she asked, then changed her mind. “Never mind. What god?”
“His name is Kephrey. He has been building an army in secret for many years. There are many different Jaffa here.”
“Any more rebels?”
“Yes,” he replied, “Almost three dozen. We decided to co-operate until we could get a message to Master Bra’tac.”
“How many – ” she began, but Tara’c raised his hand to silence her.
“The priests come. Pretend to sleep. I will be back later, when they leave you for the night.” Tara’c inclined his head to her. “Woman, I would ask your name.”
“My name?” She racked her brain, knew it was in there somewhere.
“My name is Janet Fraiser.”
------
The land which surrounded Khirbat al-Mudayna was unforgiving at best. The dry wadi bed was spotted with pink oleander flowers, but aside from those and the painstakingly irrigated and rather small wheat fields, there was little vegetation. Instead, the hills were covered with sun-blasted limestone and the sheep and goats nosed among the rocks for the wilted and shrubby greens. There was an isolation here, a loneliness that was palpable even when one was in a group of people. In short, it was perfect for clandestine conversations.
“I didn’t know was I was doing,” Jason began once they had put a significant distance between themselves and the Tel. “I thought it was code-breaking. When the NID recruited me, they told me it was because I was an epigrapher, not an archaeologist.”
Jack carefully selected a rock and sat down on it. The rest of SG-1 followed suit and after a few minutes, Jason gave up pretending to survey and took a seat as well.
“I was translating something that was similar to Latin, but not quite,” Jason continued. “They told me it was in the interests of national security.”
“Well, they weren’t completely lying,” Jack said. “What did it say?”
“It was a message from a person named Osiris to a person named Anubis.” SG-1 sat up straighter. “I thought it was pretty ridiculous for code names. The message said ‘My lord Anubis: I have found the Beetle’s trail. Once my mission with Daniel Jackson is complete, I shall track the Beetle to his lair.’
“There was also a large data file about the Beetle. I kept a copy. It’s in my hotel room in Madaba and it talks about a man named Kephrey.”
“When did you realize it wasn’t a code?” Sam asked.
“When I read the data file. I wasn’t supposed to, but I recognized your name, Daniel, and I wanted to know what was going on. And then I realized that they were real people, not code names.”
“What did the file say about Kephrey?” Daniel asked.
“He lived in Egypt in the time of Ra and controlled the aerial Stargate.”
“So you do know what that is?” Daniel cut in.
“I’ve never seen one, but I mis-translated it on purpose, if that’s what you mean.” Jason admitted. “I needed to get your attention.”
“It worked.”
“Anyway, Ra and Kephrey had a falling out and Kephrey fled and took the gate with him.” Jason continued. “He brought it here, to Mudayna and set up a kingdom in Moab.”
“That is…amazing!” Daniel exclaimed in a breathless voice.
“I know,” Jason agreed. “It makes everything so – ”
“Point please, gentlemen!” Jack cut in.
“Right.” Jason shook his head slightly. “When the Israelites attacked, they overwhelmed Kephrey’s forces. He made his last stand in the temple and then fled with the last few of his followers through the Stargate.”
“Have you found anything about a device used to control the Stargate?” Sam asked
“That’s why I volunteered to do the survey.” Jason said. “From what I understand, the Gate itself is buried on the Tel. After the Israelites sacked and burned the town, they buried the Gate because it was too big to destroy. If I’m right, it should be in Field E, at the back of the Tel. The control device was moved, though, by Kephrey’s own men, to keep the invaders from controlling the Gate.”
“There is a matter which is still unclear to me,” Teal’c said. “What use would a Stargate be to the NID? Even with the Dial Home Device, we would be aware of their off-world movements and be able to track them down.”
“They don’t want the Stargate,” Jason explained. “They want Kephrey. Or what’s left of his technology, I imagine. Kephrey is probably long dead.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Jack. “But why Kephrey? What makes him special?”
“I am not really an Egyptologist,” Jason said apologetically, “so I can’t be certain about this, but from what I gather, Kephrey is one of the gods of rebirth. The scarab beetle buries itself in the sand for months at a time and can resuscitate itself when favourable conditions return.”
“Jack,” Daniel said, “if Kephrey’s godhead has some basis in the truth – ”
“Then that’s what the Trust is after.” Jack finished. He turned to Jason. “Could you give us a few moments please?”
Jason looked like he had more questions, but walked away as requested.
“Sir, what are you thinking?” Sam asked.
“I think it’s time we stop playing archaeologists and start…well, being archaeologists.” Jack said. “Where is the Prometheus?”
“It could be here tomorrow,” Sam said.
“Alright then. When we get back to Madaba I’ll call Cheyenne Mountain and have it directed here. Will you be able to come up with a scanner that will detect the Gate and the DHD?”
“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Sam said. “I’ll just reconfigure the—”
“Excellent,” said Jack. “How much longer do we have to stay out here?”
------
“Remind me again why we’re going back to the field today,” Jack said. He squinted at the horizon as the first few rays or sunshine began to break over it.
“Because the Prometheus won’t be here until tonight and if the Trust shows up today we should be there?” Daniel offered.
“Will the Trust not simply beam up the Stargate themselves?”
“A lot of my plan depends on them not having a ship,” Jack admitted.
“I don’t think they do, sir,” Sam said. She rolled up her window as the dust from the wadi starting pouring through it. “If they did, they would have beamed it out long before Jason got here.”
“Wonderful,” Jack said as the car lurched to a stop. They all got out and got their gear out of the trunk.
“Ah…you have returned!” They heard Dr. Wilfrid call out. The woman sounded much too excited for the early hour. “Jason is going to be setting in points on the Tel today, if you would care to join him, Dr. Jackson.”
“That would be nice.” Daniel said. Sam was almost sure he was being genuine.
“Your colleagues are welcome to join in wherever they like.” Dr. Wilfrid smiled. “The more the merrier!”
“Indeed.” Teal’c said.
Just then, two buses pulled up beside where the truck was parked and a horde of tired looking-students piled off them. They milled around for a few minutes and then started up the Tel to the supply tent where they had all had second breakfast the previous day. Jack fell in beside the red-head he had spoken to the day before and asked if she would mind an extra hand for day. She seemed surprised, but conceded quickly enough. Teal’c was deep in conversation with Dr. Bishop; the latter was gesturing emphatically, and Sam had elected to stay at the bottom of the Tel and work alongside the students there.
Jack had never really given much thought to what it meant to be an archaeologist. Usually, SG-1 was only called in after something was found and even then, only when it was interesting or different. What faced him this morning was mostly made of dirt and some horrible kind of rock that fell apart under the slightest pressure and was then excruciatingly difficult to pick up and get out of the square. The red-head happily answered all the questions he peppered her with and he was eventually able to determine pottery, or fugar as they called it, from the rock, or hajar.
After a couple of hours, a water break was called and Jack climbed up to get his water out of his backpack. The red-head was standing on the western edge of the square and squinting at something Jack couldn’t quite see.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
“There’s a car,” she said, sounding puzzled.
“Are they coming here?”
“There’s nowhere else to go,” she pointed out.
“Nobody here drives a car that nice.” The dark haired boy Jack remembered from yesterday had joined them.
“Unless they work for the government.”
“Would you guys excuse me for a bit?” Jack said.
“Of course,” said the red head. “You’re free to go whenever you like. We’re the indentured workers.”
“I’ve had a great morning,” Jack said and surprised himself by not being sarcastic. “Hopefully I’ll see you later.”
The two students smiled and said good-bye and headed back to work. By the time Jack had rounded up Teal’c, Daniel and Jason, the car had reached the wadi. They watched it drive through and then park at the bottom of the Tel. Dr. Bishop and Dr. Wilfrid joined them. Sam made her way out of the ruins she’d been working in just as the party was exiting the car. It was hard to read body language from so far away, but there was no doubt in Jack’s mind about what he was seeing: his 2IC was very, very worried.
The final figure exited the car and pulled out a hat to cover his balding head. Jack stiffened and felt Daniel and Teal’c react as well. Daniel grabbed Jason’s arm and began muttering in his ear what Jack assumed were variations of “don’t panic”. Drs. Wilfrid and Bishop did not react at all, but then they were Canadian and therefore less likely to recognize a disgraced and publicly dead former Vice President of the United States of America.
Neither Kinsey nor any of his party were visibly armed, but Jack could hardly forget that he was surrounded by unarmed children. He forced himself to relax and hoped that this situation would be resolved without bloodshed.
“Look!” said Dr. Wilfrid. Jack started. “It’s Nasr. He must have hitched a ride with them.”
Jack’s eyes drifted down the Tel, not to the workman, but to Sam. She was signing at him, using the signs they’d developed for just such an occasion: the number five and then the sign for Goa’uld. Every person climbing the Tel had a snake in their head, and there was another in the car.
“Dr. Jackson!” Kinsey called out when they were in hearing range. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“Hello,” said Dr. Wilfrid. She sounded slightly put out. “Welcome to Mudayna. My name is –”
“We know who you are, Dr. Wilfrid.” Only SG-1 and Jason appreciated the veiled threat in that statement. “I have many friends in the Ministry.”
“Are you here for a tour?”
The Trust operatives and SG-1 eyed each other cautiously. Sam had not joined them, choosing instead to stay with the car and the operative who had not made the climb. Jack knew that his team was armed, but only with their sidearms. He could only assume that the Trust was similarly armed. They hadn’t come here for violence; there were too many people for the weapons they had.
“No, Dr. Wilfrid. We’re here to give you this.” Kinsey handed over a rather official looking document.
“There must be some mistake.” Dr. Wilfrid said in a puzzled tone.
“I am afraid not, Dr. Wilfrid.” Kinsey’s smile grew larger. “You are hereby requested to withdraw from the field until further notice.”
“You can’t just –”
“Yes, Dr. Wilfrid, I can.” Kinsey made no attempt to disguise the threat in his tone this time. “I have the full support of the Minister of Antiquities, as you will note at the bottom of page four.”
Dr. Wilfrid looked back over her students and set her jaw. “Very well.”
As the two professors went off to gather up their students, Kinsey turned to Jason and smirked.
“Dr. Owens. You’ve fallen in with a new crowd I see.”
“I have.” Jason said, managing not to blanche any more than he already had.
“How’s that working out for you?” Kinsey smarmed.
“It’s working out just fine.”
“You should have stuck with us, Owens,” Kinsey said. “You might have lived.”
“You mean you would have snaked him,” Jack cut in. “That’s not what I’d call living.”
“You were always narrow minded.” Kinsey’s Goa’uld voice took over: “Now get off my Tel. We have work to do.”
“This isn’t over, Kinsey.”
“It’s never over, Jack.”
------
The car ride back to Madaba was mostly silent. Sam and Teal’c had surreptitiously examined the taxi driver and revealed that he was fully human, but no one really knew what to say.
“We’ll have to take him with us, sir,” Sam said finally as they were pulling into Madaba. “They’ll kill him if he stays.”
“I know,” Jack replied. “Daniel, you go pick him up and bring him back to the hotel after we get dropped off. We’ll all…leave town together tonight.”
Daniel nodded and spoke to the taxi driver in Arabic.
“When is our ride due, Carter?”
“In about eight hours,” Sam said. “Sir, I think they’re going to dig for it. And they may not even know where the DHD is. It’ll be tight, but I think we have the time to beat them.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
The taxi pulled up in front of the Mariam and Sam, Jack and Teal’c piled out. They took their gear from the trunk and then Daniel and the driver set out for The Black Iris, the hotel that Jason was staying in. Daniel asked the cab to wait for him, and went inside.
The Black Iris was much darker than the Mariam, but the foyer was much bigger. A man dozed on the sofa, but he got up immediately when Daniel came in.
“Hello, sir,” said the man. “I have no free rooms.”
“Actually, I am here to see Jason Owens. Could you tell me where he is?”
“Ah, Mister Jason. I like him. His Arabic very good.” The man smiled. “He is in room 307. Go down the stairs, through the glass door and then back up the stairs on your right to the third floor.”
“Thank you, salaam,” Daniel replied and headed off.
The upper floors of the Black Iris were well-ventilated and Daniel could feel the wind moving through the hall way. He knocked on room 307 and wait a few seconds.
“Who is it?” Jason sounded very tense.
“It’s Daniel, Jason.” Daniel said. “Let me in.”
Daniel heard the door unbolt and then it opened to reveal Jason holding a zat’ni’katel and looking as harried as he’d sounded.
“How in the world did you get that past customs?”
“What? Oh, it doesn’t register as a weapon. They thought it was a hair-dryer,” Jason said. “What are you doing here?”
“You have to leave.”
“You think?”
Daniel looked around and realized that Jason was packing his things.
“Oh. Well I think you should leave with us,” Daniel said. “You know the Prometheus?”
“I’ve heard the word.”
“It’s a ship. It’s going to be here in a few hours to get us out. We’re also going to beam up the Gate and Sam is going to make a scanner to find the DHD.”
“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?”
“Because…we needed to talk to you.” Daniel refused to be side-tracked. “Look, the Trust is probably going to kill you as soon as they can. I think you should come back with me to the Mariam and we’ll all wait for the Prometheus together.”
“What am I going to tell Dr. Wilfrid?”
“In about three minutes, the man at the desk is going to answer the phone and find out that you have a very sick aunt and as executor of her estate, you have to fly home and sign the papers that will take her off of life support.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Can I help you pack?”
------
The Prometheus arrived right on schedule and SG-1, their increasingly uncomfortable companion, and all of his luggage were beamed aboard. Sam got straight to work on the sensor platform that would pick up the DHD from orbit and it too was located in short order. The Prometheus altered her orbit slightly so that Cheyenne Mountain was in beaming range.
“Send the Gate to these coordinates, Colonel,” Sam requested, tapping on her console.
“Forwarding coordinates now,” Pendergast replied. “Gate is away and the DHD has followed. Where do you want me to set you?”
“Why don’t you beam us directly to the briefing room?” Jack suggested. “I’ve done enough walking for a day.”
“Aye, sir!” Pendergast said, and the Prometheus faded in a bright white light.
------
Sam put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes in frustration. She was surrounded by power crystals and computers and empty coffee cups. It had been almost four hours since she’d begun her analysis and so far she had nothing to show for it.
The phone rang and she got up to answer it, ignoring the cracking sounds made by her long-unmoved bones.
“Carter,” she said.
“Hey, Colonel,” Jack drawled. “What have you got?”
“Nothing, sir,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“All is not lost, Carter.” Jack was clearly very bored. When they had arrived home and rested for a bit, Sam had gone to her lab and Jason, Daniel and Teal’c had gone to do some research, but the General had to go back to dealing with the day to day details of base operations. “The book guys have found something that Daniel says is very promising.”
“I’ll be right up, sir.”
Sam got to Daniel’s lab as quickly as she could, desperate to find something out about the DHD they had recovered.
“Hi, Sam. Have a seat.” Daniel said and then got straight to business. “In last year’s field season, some of Dr. Wilfrid’s students found an ivory scarab in field E.”
“The field she said was empty?” Sam asked.
“What’s a scarab?” Jack queried.
“Yes, and it’s a kind of seal,.” Daniel answered. “Before people used their signatures to confirm business deals, they would use seals. Scarab seals are in the shape of a beetle, and then the bottoms are carved with the symbols or mark of a person’s name. The Mudayna scarab was probably worn on a ring, but the band is gone.”
“Okay,” said Jack. “How does this help us?”
“The field notes say that the scarab has fake hieroglyphics on it for the seal’s imprint,” Daniel explained. “Dr. Wilfrid thought that they were marks made by someone who knew that hieroglyphs were important, but didn’t know what letters they stood for; that they just made a pretty picture. Teal’c and I had a look and we think it’s a Gate address.”
“SG-12 is currently giving a report from P3X-936. They’re scheduled to be done in 20 minutes. When they’re clear, we’ll send a MALP.”
The phone rang and Sam went to answer it.
“Carter,” she said, then: “It’s for you, sir.”
Jack went to the phone and the rest of SG-1 listened to a half-conversation, then he hung up.
“I had Walter keep any news from Madaba flagged,” he said. “It seems there was a break in at the museum last night. One of the scarab cases was smashed.”
“They know!” Jason said. “They’re going to be right behind us.”
“There is yet no cause for alarm, Dr. Owens,” Teal’c said smoothly. “The Trust operatives must travel to another planet in order to access a Stargate. We will have sent out probe before they are able to do so.”
“Teal’c’s right, Jason,” Daniel said. “We’ve got lots of time.”
“All the same,” Jack said, “I think I would feel more comfortable if we all went up to the control room now. Make sure you bring that address!”
------
AN:* Many academic archaeologists have two specialties: the actual practical skills of digging/mapping/surveying, and then a more specific topic like an ancient language or a type of pottery.
Also, Sam really invents the naquadah thingy in “Ex Deus Machina”, but I had to give it to her early.
Part Four
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-07 04:55 am (UTC)I'm glad you used the thing with Sam being able to sense the presence of a symbiote. I can't remember the last time the show itself has touched on it.
And the real question is, can Jason really be trusted? These types of stories make me all jumpy. And usually the character I want most to be a good guy ends up not being a good guy. It's a curse I'm beginning to absorb from my friend Tirzah.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-07 08:51 am (UTC)I try to throw in the "Sam can sense naquadah" thing whenever I can. Because they used it as a plot point ALL THE TIME in season two and three and I think it's funny. And, you know, terribly convenient.
As for Jason...well, you'll just have to wait...
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 09:19 pm (UTC)*off to read part 4*