WORLD ENOUGH, AND TIME: AN ALTERNATE REALITY NOVEL BY BIBLIO
CHAPTER 10: THE TORMENT OF TANTALUS

CHAPTER  10: THE TORMENT OF TANTALUS

Jack shoved his chair back, balanced his feet against the edge of the scarred metal table and hugged his knees. "You didn't tell me," he grumbled in a conversational tone.

Daniel, restlessly pacing the dingy two-bunk concrete Hilton allocated as their quarters for the night in preparation for the mission, emitted a vague grunt and started tapping methodically on the pitted concrete walls.

"You didn't tell me about Littlefield," Jack said slightly louder than before, sensing he wasn't exactly the centre of attention here. "About Ernest Littlefield opening the Stargate."

"I did," Daniel said without looking around, clearly surprised by the accusation. "You were right there."

"So was everyone else," Jack said dryly.

"Ergo, I told you about Ernest," Daniel retorted briskly, opening the door and sticking his head out into the hallway for a minute.

"You didn't tell me," Jack unsubtly stressed the personal pronoun.

Daniel closed the door again and turned around to eye Jack with possibly less interest than he'd just been eyeing the empty hallway. "Meaning...I didn't tell you first?" he hazarded, planting his shapely butt on the bottom bunk.

"My feelings are hurt," Jack explained with dignity, while Daniel bounced experimentally, his head cocked alertly.

After several squeak-free seconds, Daniel stopped bouncing and started smiling. "I'm sorry," he apologised meekly, neatly shedding his jacket.

"You can make it up to me," Jack hinted broadly.

Daniel promptly stood up and pulled off his T-shirt.

"Some time," Jack prudently qualified, scenting an agenda.

Daniel unbuckled his belt.

"Some place."

Daniel undid a button or two on his BDUs, his expression now plainly suggesting that upon mature reflection, he'd decided Jack was more exciting than an empty hallway.

"Some time," Jack said again, losing track. His mind also.

It was the fingers. He couldn't not watch those in action. Long and strong. Sensitive fingers. Inquisitive. Talented fingers that really got to grips with Jack. Pushed his buttons. Strung him out and made him sing.

Daniel undid a few more buttons.

"But not this time."

Jack was aware this didn't sound nearly so emphatic as it was meant to, what with the looming prospect of jail time and all.

"Or this place."

And this sounded more like a come-on than a brush-off.

It was the way Daniel was watching him, with his best attempt at come hither attitude and hungry eyes.

The pants succumbed to gravity before Daniel remembered he hadn't unlaced his boots, which necessitated some hopping and a few choice colloquialisms uttered between clenched teeth. He kicked a boot somewhat vindictively into the shadows pooling in the corner of the small room. The second boot rapidly followed.

Jack grimly tried to stiffen his uncooperatively twitching upper lip.

Daniel sidled suggestively over to the bunks, got under the blankets in the bottom one, shimmied fairly impressively given his size in relation to the meagre space allotted, then modestly dropped his baggy regulation issue boxer shorts on the floor.

After a brief hesitation, he kept his socks.

Then he shot a tense, hopeful look at Jack.

"You want to be on top?"

Jack, allegedly the toughest of cookies, crumbled.

With every academic dream of his being realised, Daniel had chosen to be here, to be with Jack. To communicate his feelings in the clearest way he knew.

Philosophical about the risk versus the reward, Jack slid out of his uniform, under the blanket and into waiting arms.

"Daniel? You with me?" Jack nudged Daniel's arm meaningfully.

"I'm thinking about Catherine," Daniel confessed.

Or rather, he was trying to.

It was hard to ignore all the bustle around him as Kawalsky and Ferretti checked an array of weapons and explosives while Sam, Brown and Siler ran various diagnostics on the MALP telemetry, on anything, in fact, that had a dial or a button.

It was also hard to ignore the sheer thrill, the almost physical pull of the active Stargate. Thoughts of Ernest – the mysteries of his life, or of his death, what he might have endured, what Catherine had endured all these years without him – this alone weighted Daniel's excitement.

A warm, encouraging look drew Daniel closer to a receptive Jack.

"We will be able to tell her, won't we?" he asked Jack softly. "About Ernest?"

"That's up to the general," Jack said simply. "She buried the guy fifty years ago, Daniel. If he died on this planet we're going to, do you want her to have to bury him again?"

Taking Jack's point, Daniel dropped his head in silent acknowledgement.

Of course he didn't want Catherine to have to mourn her loss of Ernest all over again. She still loved him and she'd never recovered from his so-called death. Living alone, fighting everyone and everything that had stood in her way, obsessed with the gate she'd never been able to open...

He didn't know what it would do to her to learn that her Stargate had separated her from Ernest. The greatest success of her life – the success that had taken the whole of her life – could also be her greatest failure, an incalculable blow.

The truth would hurt Catherine, but on a gut-level, Daniel had to believe she deserved to hear it. Her father's lie about her lover's death was kindly meant, protective, borne out of love. She still wore the scars of it. The truth now could hardly hurt her more than the lie told then.

"If Ernest is alive, though?" Daniel persisted, uncertain if he should even hope for that. "Unless we're planning to keep him prisoner, we're going to have to let him go back to her."

"Let's take it one step at a time," Jack suggested, wondering what was going on in that elegant mind of Daniel's. "Bleeding heart," he whispered, teasing. He'd have to square it away with the general somehow, because he highly doubted Daniel's over-active conscience would let either of them rest easy unless he was able to talk to Catherine, if he was certain it was the right thing to do.

"Gentlemen," General Hammond greeted them as he walked into the gateroom. He stood with them at the bottom of the ramp, staring up in awe at the active Stargate, the event horizon rippling, pooling radiant blue light over the bleak silo.

"Time to brief the team," Jack commented to the general. Captain Doctor Carter was looking up at the Stargate as if she could eat it. "Listen up!" he called as he strode up the ramp to the gate doing his full-on colonel thing, Daniel tucked expectantly behind his shoulder, just as it should be. "Those of you on your first trip through the Stargate, you should be prepared for what to expect," he said confidently.

"I've practically memorized your report from the first mission," Carter responded, her eyes shining.

"I think what the Colonel is saying is..." Kawalsky, seeing an opportunity for Carter-baiting, instantly picked up his C.O.'s thread. "Have you ever pulled out of a simulated bombing run in an F-16 at eight-plus Gs?"

"Yes."

"Well." Kawalsky was taken aback by Carter's straightforward answer, completely losing the momentum he'd been building up to his punchline. "It's way worse than that," he added lamely, very aware of his comedically critical audience and the fact this was being recorded - from several angles - for posterity.

Carter's expression was decidedly on the insubordinate side.

"By the time you get to the other side," Ferretti interjected with impressive drama, showing some team spirit and rushing to Kawalsky's assistance. "You're frozen stiff like you've just been through a blizzard." He paused quite deliberately for added effect. "Naked."

"That's a result of the compression your molecules undergo during the millisecond required for reconstitution," Captain Doctor Carter responded smartly, rather enjoying herself.

Kawalsky and Ferretti exchanged thwarted looks.

"I'd say that was a TKO to Carter," Jack snorted.

"Carter is smarter!" Ferretti complained darkly. They couldn't catch a break!

"Are we going to have to arm-wrestle?" Carter asked acidly, rolling her eyes.

Then she smiled.

Not her nice smile, the one Jack had noted she reserved exclusively for Daniel and Doctor Fraiser.

The other one.

"Or is it time to talk about my reproductive organs again?" she purred.

"Whoah!" Jack made with the time-out sign, honour-bound to come to the rescue of his beleaguered fellow men. "Way to kick 'em while they're down, Carter," he said somewhat approvingly.

"You never mentioned flight-training," Kawalsky told her accusingly.

"Oddly, Sir, Ferretti has mentioned nakedness to me," Sam responded chirpily.

"Permission to take my team through the Stargate, Sir," Jack requested, thinking they should exit before Ferretti took the opportunity to mention anything else.

"Permission granted, Colonel," Hammond agreed at once, his face eager. "SG-1, you have a go," he said formally, smiling at them with unmistakeable pride.

One giant step, Jack thought ironically, guessing they were about to make some of that history Daniel lived for.

"Someone should say something significant," he suggested.

Everyone turned right around and looked expectantly at him, which was not what he'd intended. He looked back at them.

"Nothing comes to mind," he admitted.

"Good luck to you all," General Hammond said warmly, apparently enjoying this by-play from his new frontline team.

Almost dancing with impatience, Daniel hovered anxiously at Carter's side while Ferretti and Kawalsky took point and made the most of swaggering into the wormhole like conquering heroes.

"The energy the Stargate must release to create a stable wormhole is - is astronomical, to use exactly the right word," Carter announced wonderingly, gazing in awe at their reflections dancing in the event horizon, "And those two have enough testosterone to power it all." She winked cheekily at Daniel, grinning.

"Permission to get excited, Carter," Jack offered beneficently as Sgt. Brown walked steadily into the wormhole steering F.R.E.D, heavily laden with their mass of inflicted scientific equipment and essential weaponry.

Like a couple of puppies slipping the leash, Daniel and Carter went bounding up to the Stargate, standing shoulder to shoulder, drinking it all in with those better eyes Daniel had talked about.

Watching the two of them, Jack decided he was glad Carter was going along with them this time. In her own way, she could act as a translator, a conduit, understanding equally the separate languages he and Daniel spoke, the very different places they were coming from. He stood close behind them as the technical talk faded swiftly to silence, Carter visibly hit as hard as Daniel was by the limitless potential of the Stargate. A little surprised, Jack guessed she saw the magic too.

"My God," Sam breathed, close to tears. "Look at this." Her delicately stroking fingers made her own reflection ripple in the event horizon. "You can't imagine," she faltered to Daniel, breathless and shaken as all her dreams pooled gentle radiance before her.

"I can," Daniel contradicted positively.

Sam turned to him, a beautiful smile lighting her eyes. "Daniel, I..."

Wishing they would both do a little more and talk a lot less, Jack heartlessly shoved them through the wormhole. "Sir!" he waved insouciantly to the general before stepping briskly through.

Sam tumbled into Ferretti's waiting arms, teeth chattering as she shook and shook. "Oh, God," she moaned. "I think I'm gonna be sick!"

"It'll pass in a minute, Sam," Ferretti said kindly, leading her over to sit safely to one side on the stairs.

Pulling off her helmet, Sam looked dazedly around, her head swimming as she shuddered abjectly in reaction. Kawalsky was close by, hovering solicitously over Daniel. "That's - that was..." She gaped at Ferretti, words failing her.

"It's a helluva ride," Ferretti agreed, his eyes glinting.

"Guess you shouldn't have had that big breakfast, Carter," Colonel O'Neill taunted as he strode past her, angling down the shallow flight of steps to drop a reassuring hand onto Daniel's shoulder, then hunkering down to murmur something to him she didn't quite hear as Kawalsky took off to begin a slow, careful circuit of the empty, crumbling ruin of a room they were in.

"We're on another world," Sam whispered, too stunned to analyse what she was feeling. "This is incredible."

Ferretti patted her on the shoulder in a friendly way, then drew her to her feet with a quick, meaningful glance over to the colonel. Sam took his point. Time to start earning her keep. O'Neill didn't suffer fools at all and he'd had made it clear to her she was here on sufferance.

She noted his dislike of scientists didn't extend to Daniel, though, whom he was patiently pulling to his feet.

"Kawalsky with Carter, Ferretti with Brown, Daniel, you're with me," Jack ordered calmly. "Let's spread out, check around."

"It's hot in here," Daniel commented, tugging at the neck of his T-shirt, sweat already beginning to prickle his skin beneath the thick jacket and body armour Jack had insisted they all wore. Since he'd – technically - died the last time through the Stargate, he hadn’t argued against the armour this time.

He felt he could live without the helmet, though. The damned thing felt as if it weighed more than he did. Eyeing Jack defiantly, he undid the strap and discarded it, hoping this would precipitate an argument and necessitate some nice making up when they were suitably alone and geographically isolated.

"Hot as hell." Glancing up, Jack was concerned by the shower of dust trickling down from the roof and the heavy creaks and groans of the structure around them. "Doesn't seem too stable to me," he remarked to Daniel, eyes tracking over the places he could see stone had fallen at various times, perturbed this had happened at numerous distributed points right around the room. "I don't see any signs of weapons fire or explosive damage either. The place is literally falling down around us."

"The damage is too severe to be solely caused by erosion," Daniel decided, frowning as he looked around. The beauty of the shimmering walls, the strong stylistic statement of the symmetrical architecture, were marred by the ugly scars of fallen masonry. He and Jack walked down into the centre of the chamber as the others looked around the far side.

"Anyone see a way in or out of this place?" Jack called out.

"There seem to be only two doorways," Kawalsky responded, leading Carter back down to join them, Ferretti trotting down the side staircase a moment later, Brown behind him.

"Okay." Jack decided it was time to deploy his team in a wider search of the structure. "Kawalsky? I want you to take Carter and.."

"Oh, my!" Sam gasped, averting her eyes from the very old, very wrinkled, very naked man walking slowly into the chamber, peering uncomprehendingly at each of them in turn.

"Aww, for cryin' out loud," Jack muttered as his whole team did a double-take. He was slightly annoyed Daniel - their civilian - was the only one who reacted like he was supposed to. After his run-in with striptease, socks and that dangerously shy, come-hither smile last night, he was beginning to realise there were certain flaws in Special Ops training. Somehow, they were going to have to factor in ambush nudity, particularly nudity with intent.

"Dr. Littlefield?" Daniel asked uncertainly, carefully stepping forward.

The frail, elderly man flinched back from the name, or maybe from just the sound of Daniel's voice. He seemed deathly afraid of them.

"Ernest?" Daniel prompted him even more gently than before.

Ernest staggered, resting a trembling hand against the wall to support him as he gaped uncomprehendingly at them.

With the rest of the team frozen in place, Daniel waited patiently as Ernest finally came forward haltingly, lifting to his eyes the frames of a pair of broken glasses in order to peer more closely at Daniel. It was clear he didn't believe the evidence of his senses and Daniel's heart was wrung with pity for him.

"Hello, I'm Daniel Jackson," Daniel greeted him softly, wary of frightening him even more than they already had, appearing without warning like this, soldiers, armed to the teeth. "We came through the Stargate." He gestured towards the gate, Ernest turning to look at it for a moment, then uncertainly reaching forward to prod Daniel in the arm. "We're real," Daniel promised faithfully, afraid for the blind expression in the old man's eyes, the terrible blankness of his face.

Ernest's face worked soundlessly as he began to cry, harsh, ugly sobs that shook his whole body as he embraced Daniel convulsively, clung to him.

Daniel held him with the greatest care, helplessly, wanting somehow to reassure his utter desperation and at a loss to do so. It was stupid of him, but he hadn't been prepared to find a man of this physical and emotional frailty. The image he had fixed in his head was probably the same one Catherine had – of Ernest young and vital, the charismatic, brilliant scholar.

Looking down at the bent head, the marks of withering age on the creased skin, Daniel wondered how long had it been since Ernest gave up all hope of rescue? How could they help him believe again?

"It's about time!" Ernest sobbed, pulling away from Daniel to hug Jack, who simply froze up and waited him out.

Sam neatly sidestepped the old man, leaving Kawalsky to field him with more sensitivity than she'd expected. Ferretti and Brown hid behind her rapidly and without shame.

"Do something, Daniel!" Jack hissed out of the corner of his mouth as Ernest gulped back sobs and looked as if he were about to start hugging all over again.

"It was Catherine who led the team that opened the Stargate again, Ernest," Daniel told him urgently, hoping her name would catch Littlefield's attention. "It took her forty years, but she did it. She did it."

"C-Catherine?" Ernest asked tentatively, his hoarse voice lingering on the sound.

"Catherine Langford," Daniel affirmed.

Ernest snorted, turning on his heel to march off, back straight and shoulders stiff.

Daniel blinked, unprepared for such an emphatic dismissal. Disconcerted, he turned to Jack. "I'll, er, I'll go look for him," he suggested, sounding anything but confident.

"First things first," Jack corrected, catching Daniel's wrist as he impulsively started off after Littlefield. "Find the seventh symbol before you go haring off, Daniel, okay? Make sure we can all get out of here."

Daniel's attention snapped back to him. It took Daniel a moment to process, but he made it, nodding his reluctant acknowledgement of Jack's priorities.

"Carter, go with him," Jack ordered.

"Sir." Sam followed Daniel up the stairs to the dais housing the Dial-Home Device, reflecting on the less than subtle difference between a request and an order, an equal and a subordinate. Friends they might be, but it honestly surprised her to see the colonel's treatment of his civilian consultant was no different off-world than it was on the base.

Off-world! Sam gloated, hugging the knowledge to herself. Oh, she was thrilled. She wanted to laugh out loud and turn cartwheels for the sheer joy of it.

Daniel turned at the tug on his jacket.

"How did it feel?" Sam asked intensely. "The first time? How was it for you?"

"When I saw the pyramid on Ra's world?" Daniel's eyes lit. "I've never felt more alive, Sam, more certain of truth. Everything that happened before our time, everyone who lived - it all has meaning, it truly shaped who we are. If we just open our minds, look beyond our own prejudices and misconceptions, the truth is there to be found." His excitement was infectious. "No one believed my theories about the development of the earliest writing systems, no one but Catherine."

"It was the truth, though," Sam said softly, understanding him perfectly.

"Exactly!" Daniel smiled gratefully. "When I turned and saw the pyramid looming above us, glowing gold against the dunes and the brilliant sky, it was humbling. It shook my belief system to the core. It - it shook me," he confided shyly. "I was absolutely electrified."

"Vindicated?"

"I wasn't thinking clearly enough for that. I was only feeling it. A dream, Sam," he said softly. "A dream come true."

Gazing up at his passionate face, Sam thought she could fall in love with Daniel Jackson so easily. If only he needed her, even a little. If only he saw her.

"You two taking in the sights?"

Sam jumped, feeling the colonel's rebuke was both merited and aimed directly at her.

She scurried past Daniel, then dropped back a step or two to hook him around the elbow and pull him after her, wryly accepting she would be looking out for him even here. He was very good about observing what he termed the rules of the tribe, but she knew the concept of a chain of command continued to elude him, not because of any inherent disrespect, but because it was alien.

Her friend was used to the sharing of ideas and knowledge, to intellectual equals working towards a common academic goal. For Daniel, it was the idea that counted, not the person. He hadn't learned to embrace the absolutes of military operation.

Sam could live with that, but nothing had led her to suspect Colonel O'Neill would.

She was a little troubled by the fact most of the personnel on base were shit-scared of O'Neill and only Daniel didn't seem to know this. Back at the base, Daniel knew nothing but kindness and patience from 'Jack', he saw nothing but the colonel on his best behaviour with the men. Now they were in the field, the colonel's natural milieu, and Sam had to wonder how long it could last. How long before Daniel said or did the wrong thing or argued once too often and the colonel lashed out.

For as long as O'Neill treated Daniel right, Sam was not about to crush any fond illusions, even though she knew better than most when Daniel wasn't around, it was a whole other story. Kawalsky and Ferretti both said they saw a change, an improvement in the colonel, a greater – for want of a better descriptor – humanity.

Sam could only wonder what the man was like before.

It struck her then how deeply she was involved with Daniel, how close they'd become. Only family could distract her from her science and for it to happen here – and now! She'd wanted to change and it seemed she had. And in a good way. She'd let someone in, someone she trusted and who trusted her. She was better for it. Better for taking that care for Daniel.

It was one thing she and the colonel had in common.

Sincerely glad Daniel was here with her as she took her first opportunity to study the alien device first hand, Sam shook off her unaccustomed introspection and loped up the steps to get her first look at the facia.

As soon as she saw it, she gasped in dismay, rocked back on her heels. The colonel's 'big orange blobby thing' was smashed, shards of it scattered about the base of the sleek grey pedestal and within the device itself.

Daniel's shoulder butted hers as he reached past her to press several of the chevrons at random. Nothing happened.

"It's not operational," Sam observed clinically, proud of her control. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of their impossibly isolated position, their true vulnerability crashing down on her. All their dependence was on the Stargate; they were, quite literally, lost without it.

"Jack!" Daniel called out peremptorily. "We have a problem."

O'Neill ran lightly up the stairs two at a time, crowding between Sam and Daniel. "Shit!" he snapped out, his face serious. "Wasn't the probe supposed to find stuff like this?" he fired at Sam.

"We verified its presence, Sir," Sam reported, mortified. "The damage must have been concealed from the camera on the MALP." The colonel was singularly unimpressed by her explanation but let it go, Sam guessed because Daniel was watching him with mild disapproval.

"I wonder if this is why Ernest never made it home?" Daniel intuited. "A man with the vision to open the gate, a man with Catherine waiting for him, would have tried everything. Something beyond his control had to keep him here."

"Brown!" Jack barked. "Get your ass up here, help Carter fix this thing."

Sam swallowed hard.

Oh, sure, she thought witheringly.

She had absolutely no doubt she could rebuild an inconceivably advanced alien device she had the combined experience of two whole minutes with.

No, Sir, Colonel, Sir, ready to walk on water, Sir.

And for her next trick?

"Daniel, we still need that seventh symbol," the colonel rapidly focused Daniel's mind. "Get it picked out, then give Carter and Brown room to work."

Obediently, Sam moved over as Sgt. Brown came up to join them. Ignoring Daniel's distracted murmuring and his rapid sketching of various chevrons, she took her time, looking carefully at the facia of the device. It was just as Daniel had described it to her, the thirty-nine chevrons from the Stargate replicated in two tracks around the shattered central dome. Peering in, Sam could see crystals scattered. A possible power source?

"Get the power meter," she ordered Brown, who looked as intimidated as she felt. They were going to have to take this one small, painful step at a time. She really needed to know if the orange blobby thing was a power source or something like a guidance system for the device.

"I have the symbol," Daniel called to the colonel, who was giving low-voiced orders to Kawalsky and Ferretti.

"You're sure?" Jack double-checked with Daniel as his men headed out to secure their perimeter. It looked as if they could be here for a while and he needed to be sure they were safe from potential hostiles or other threats. Ernest Littlefield might have survived here for fifty years, but Jack took nothing on chance.

"I'm sure," Daniel reported confidently. "Effectively, we're reversing the order of alignment in the address that brought us here. The symbol for the point of origin for this world is the only one that's unique to this Stargate and Dial-Home Device."

"Weren't all the symbols on Ra's gate different?" Jack recalled.

"Yes. Yes, you're right. They were." Daniel chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking this through, trying to find the logic in it. "With all Ra's god-like power, his weapons and technology, primitive early man rose up in rebellion and overthrew him. Even though he had a ship, he never returned to our world. He cut it off behind him as if it had never existed, banning reading and writing to keep his slave population ignorant of their origins. It's only now I see this Stargate, this Dial-Home Device, it occurs to me the symbols on Ra's gate and Dial-Home Device were different because maybe he altered them. The ancient Egyptian rebels believed Ra sealed and buried for all time through the Stargate, but they made sure it wasn't forgotten by carving the symbols for his world into the cover stone. Just as the slaves of that world made sure they could some day find their way home, hiding away the true address for Earth in the catacombs." It was speculation, of course, but it made some sense of this curious anomaly.

"Ask a stupid question," Jack observed dryly.

Daniel shot him a very hard look. "Our own people speculated the symbols on the Stargate were some kind of combination lock," he stated in a slightly chilly tone. "I think it was literally true in the case of Ra's gate, or at least that he altered the symbols so the slaves couldn't find their way home. Only he knew the address for Earth. Or so he thought."

"Good enough," Jack said pacifically, giving Daniel's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. With one of their immediate problems somewhat lengthily sorted, he followed Daniel's still worried eyes back to where Carter and the always reliable Brown were apparently disembowelling the Dial-Home Device.

"I have every confidence in Sam," Daniel asserted bravely, in case there was any doubt of this.

Jack found himself reaching out to him again, sorry all his joy in exploring this new world had evaporated so quickly. He'd had a purely selfish desire to see Daniel happy and in his element.

Now their explorations would have to wait; the mission was effectively on hold until the Stargate was operational and contact was re-established with General Hammond and Stargate Command.

"I need to take a look around, Daniel. Why don't you go find Littlefield?" Jack hoped this would keep Daniel fully occupied while he and his team pragmatically dealt with the new mission logistics. Frankly, he wanted everyone fixed on getting out of here, not on being trapped. "We have twelve hours to assess the damage to the Dial-Ho – to the DHD," he amended quickly, sick of spelling it out. "And decide our options." The others paused to listen to him, their expressions wary. "If we can fix the gate with the equipment we have, great. If not, then when those twelve hours are up and we don't make the scheduled contact, General Hammond will follow protocol and dial in. He can send through any specialist equipment we need then."

Jack felt it was important to make the point they weren't facing some kind of life-or-death scenario here. Nor were they cut off. The C.O. and all the technical back-up and personnel they needed were only one wormhole away. He wanted his people thinking clearly, without unnecessary pressure.

"If Littlefield could dial the gate manually fifty years ago, then so can we," he crisply cut through the bull for them. His calm certainty paid off when some of the tension eased from Daniel's eyes. Carter and Brown nodded quick comprehension, their own relief palpable as Jack painted a very different picture of their situation than their imaginations.

"You're very good," Daniel whispered as Jack passed him, with more than a hint of pride.

Jack winked at him. "That’s why they pay me the big bucks."

Daniel walked slowly down the marbled stairs, his arms outstretched for balance. At least, this was what he told himself. He wanted to touch, he wanted the reality of this world beneath his hands. He could have laughed out loud. Or cried.

But this was bigger than him, so much bigger he couldn't begin to fathom it. And there was Ernest.

He stepped up onto a dais in the centre of this circular chamber, almost blinded by the light streaming in from windows high above, the boom of the ocean and the eerie slithering sound of this failing structure all around him.

The shining blue-veined walls had more magic, more mystery in this strong light than in the darkness.

Daniel found himself turning, turning in circles, wanting to see it all, to have it all, everything at once.

Something was at his back, another alien device, discreetly draped with fabric. He felt its pull but wasn't yet ready for it. There was only so much he could take in at one time, and this was all too much.

Dreamily, he walked in endless circles, looking up into the alien sky and the light, almost spinning off the dais in his shock when a rusty voice came out of the shadows.

"Still here?"

Ernest.

The old man was standing in an alcove, a safe place, naked in every way imaginable. The broken glasses, hanging from a string around his neck, seemed to symbolise his vulnerability.

Troubled and obscurely guilty, Daniel asked Ernest if he had any clothes.

Ernest frowned, seeming to have difficulty finding meaning in the words. Then the terrible blankness cleared from his face and he stooped, reaching out for a tumbled heap of canvas at his feet. "Going home," he said with difficulty.

"Yes." Daniel looked away as Ernest dressed, giving him privacy even though it was irrational, even though Ernest hardly seemed to have any notion of his nudity. Giving him a moment of privacy was for Daniel a mark of respect. "We're taking you home," he said quietly. When he glanced back, Ernest was pulling the tattered remains of the old diving suit over his head.

"So much time," Ernest murmured, looking Daniel directly in the eyes, alert for the first time, as if he were finding some sense of self again. "Did no one try again?"

"I think they thought you were dead," Daniel explained. "You remember the light? The blue light, like a pool of water? It cut off when you went through."

Ernest's brow creased as he thought about this.

"It – it might have looked to them as if you'd died." Daniel picked his words carefully. "As if you were killed."

"Doorway to heaven," Ernest quoted, apparently in recognition.

"Stargate," Daniel corrected him automatically. "The translation – it's Stargate. Not doorway to heaven."

"Professor Langford," Ernest explained patiently. "He thought the name – he thought 'doorway to heaven' might mean only that you died when you went into the device."

"The translation was wrong," Daniel repeated. It was a stupid thing to say but he was struggling to find anything. He had no idea how to comfort this old man, how to connect with him. "Are there other people here?" he asked, gesturing up at the windows and the world outside them.

Ernest shook his head, his animation fading back to fearful wariness.

It drew Daniel forward, walking slowly and cautiously down into the small space Ernest lived in. "No one else lives here?" He came closer, relieved Ernest didn't back away from him, trying to be patient himself as the old man bent down to pick up some small object from the floor. "How about nearby?"

Ernest only put out his hand, flinching when Daniel reached out automatically to take the thing. It looked like a rock, the whatever-it-was Ernest was trying to give him. He held his hand still, waiting while Ernest reached out again, wishing he didn't frighten him so much. Then the sense of what Ernest was saying to him began to sink in, he began to comprehend the reason for all of this fear. It horrified him. "Are you saying you've been alone here for fifty years?" he whispered.

Ernest, who was braver than Daniel could even imagine, could still look him in the eyes as he nodded. "Eat," he told Daniel, who could only sit down hard on the dais and look back at him, unable to think of anything to say to that. His imagination, for once, was failing him.

When Ernest handed over a sheaf of rough paper, Daniel took the torn pages, each of them closely marked with five-bar gates. "It's a calendar, isn’t it?" Ernest nodded while Daniel looked at all the markings, the days and years and decades, all of them suffered alone.

"Last day," Ernest reminded him, touching the blank spot on the uppermost sheet.

"Maybe a little longer," Daniel admitted honestly. "You know that thing, what we call the Dial-Home Device, you know it's broken, right?"

"It was that way when I got here."

"That's why you never came home."

"I tried for years to make it work."

"We will make it work," Daniel promised, not extravagantly. He meant it. They weren't going to give Ernest this kind of hope then take it from him again. It was too cruel to contemplate a failure of that magnitude. "We are going home."

He was willing Ernest to believe him, but for all the man's hard-won patience and his aching generosity, Ernest hardly saw them as real.

For all Daniel knew, dreams of rescue had been with him his whole life and that was all they were to him. A dream that meant only another wakening alone.

He looked anxiously for a distraction, anything to occupy Ernest, to engage him.

Putting aside the calendar, he looked around the chamber. "Have you been able to figure out who built this place, or who used to live here?"

"Heliopolis."

Daniel jerked around to stare at him. "Heliopolis?" he repeated, his stomach jumping at the familiar name.

"Repository, philosophy, astronomy," Ernest confirmed.

"I assume you mean the ancient Egyptian city?" Daniel's heart was beginning to pound as he thought through the various determining factors that might have led Ernest to make this particular deduction. "Heliopolis, known as the solar city, was a centre for astronomy, reflected in the titles of its High Priest, 'Chief Of Observers' and 'Greatest of Seers'. It was also a centre for learning and theological speculation, much of that learning centred on the role of the sun in the creation and maintenance of the world. People would come from everywhere to gather there. Scholars. Community leaders."

Daniel kept a careful watch, but Ernest's mildly approving expression didn't alter. Nothing he'd had said so far had more than an academic meaning for an exceedingly well-read and educated man. He took a deep breath.

"It was also the central place of worship for Ra."

He didn't know whether to be disappointed or not when Ernest had no discernible reaction to this.

"Are there any Egyptian hieroglyphs here?" he asked intently. "Symbols that would indicate Ra? Like...like the Eye? The Eye Of Ra? The same Eye that's on the amulet Catherine wears? This could be very important."

Ernest dug into his pitiful pile of belongings and took out a pale-brown leather-bound journal, similar to the kind Daniel customarily used. It was worn smooth with handling but was immaculately preserved. It was handed to him with greater confidence than Ernest had yet shown and Daniel gave it the respectful treatment it deserved as he opened and began to read aloud from it, wanting to keep the connection going between the two of them.

"Four distinct languages. Writing unlike anything on Earth. Catherine says they're probably alien." The unexpectedness of it made him look up blankly. "Catherine says?" he repeated in astonishment.

"She found me long ago," Ernest explained serenely, smiling.

Not at all sure what to make of this, Daniel read on. "We walked for miles today and still found no signs of civilization. Catherine seems concerned, but I am not. As long as she is here with me, I will never feel alone. It seems impossible, but everyday that we're here together, I love her more."

Daniel had lived most of his life with no fear of solitude, no deep-seated need for anyone, but he could comprehend the forces driving Ernest to bring Catherine back into his life on some level, to make what peace he could with her loss and his continued existence. It was more about survival than love, he thought.

"I'm glad," he said compassionately, feeling that Ernest was going through enough without dealing with knowing the truth about Catherine, alive and alone, still mourning him even while she unwittingly completed his work. Old.

Ernest climbed the few steps up to the dais and pulled the fabric clear of the device in the centre of the room, Daniel bounding up eagerly to stand beside him as a pedestal was revealed. He had time only to note the existence of another of Jack's famous 'orange blobs' before the walls began to light around him, his breath caught on a shuddering gasp, his whole world faded to glittering language, four languages glittering gold.

His hand was shaking as he keyed his radio.

"Jack!" he yelped. "Get down here!"

When Jack ran down the steps, he found Ernest Littlefield hovering over Daniel, who was in some kind of ecstatic trance.

Jack, who'd last seen this rapt expression at around four-am this morning, when he was elbowed awake so Daniel could work through another of Jack's inspirational cue cards, figured he had some serious competition.

"What is this place?" Jack asked, glancing around at several panels of text, all lit up, some of it curly, some blocky, some dots with triangles, some spiky.

Ernest, who appeared to be looking after Daniel, rather than the other way around, took the book clutched to Daniel's chest, opened it and handed it back, which at least snapped Daniel out of his trance.

Daniel began to circle the room, reading aloud from the book. "I believe this room is some sort of meeting place where four alien races, denoted by the symbols and the distinctive writing on the walls, would gather. Possibly to share knowledge or discuss relations somewhat like a United Nations of the stars. Catherine agrees."

"Catherine?" Jack enquired cautiously, taking nothing for granted.

"Don't go there," Daniel advised firmly.

Sensing this was excellent advice, Jack went over to one of the illuminated panels instead. "Four alien races?" he queried the important point.

"Five, if we include Ra's species," Daniel replied with flattening promptitude.

"Five?" Oy. Jack pulled off his cap and scrubbed his hands roughly through his hair, feeling tired. Responsible. All too aware there were no rules or established protocols he could follow for any of this stuff. He jumped back up onto the central platform to examine the device at its centre. "This looks familiar," he commented. "Like the DHD."

"I noticed that too," Daniel agreed excitedly. "You know what this means?"

"I know you're going to tell me."

"It means the same species built this device and the DHD."

There was a bright, expectant look on Daniel's face allied with the heavily pregnant pause. This was a blank Jack was supposed to fill in. Of course, if he just smiled nicely and waited two seconds...

"The gate builders!" Daniel bounced over this. Literally. "They were here! They're one of these four alien races!"

With Daniel's confident assertion corroborated by three distinct examples of scarily advanced alien technology, including this one, Jack simply took him at his word.

"Touch it," Ernest advised Jack.

Guessing this didn't mean with his weapon, Jack stowed it neatly and put his hand on the orange blob with the same care he would have put it on a live grenade. Then he leapt back as some kind of light charge fired up towards the ceiling and spilled down.

"Wow!" he gasped.

This was kind of an understatement, even from him.

They all looked up, watching translucent bronzed orange and smaller gold lights spin and mingle in the air above them.

"Cool special effects," Jack noted admiringly.

"It's beautiful," Daniel enthusiastically echoed his sentiment.

"Daniel? Does this..." Jack gestured up at their light fantastic. "Mean anything?"

"Well," Daniel hesitated, having some difficulty breaking free of just - just feeling all of this. "If this was a Mecca of sorts—an alien United Nations—this has to mean something."

Ruefully accepting Daniel wasn't entirely focused in the here-and-now with him, Jack took a good look himself, walking around, trying to make sense out of the shifting shapes and patterns. It was like lying on your back in the yard on a summer's day, staring up at the sky until the patterns in the clouds made sense to your eyes. You stared and squinted, closed one eye then the other, and suddenly... "I know this!"

"Of course!" Daniel called out animatedly. "High school chemistry! One proton, one electron. Hydrogen!"

"Silver, iron, barium, xenon," Ernest recounted as Jack reached up to swing his weapon through one of the images.

"So many electrons!" Daniel was amazed. "How can you tell?"

"I've been here a very long time, remember?" Ernest said ironically.

"Excuse me," Jack interrupted, fairly politely. "Are you saying that all of these are atomic…things?"

"These images are the graphical representations of the basics elements," Daniel explained happily to his favourite captive audience. "Electrons revolving around the proton, the number of the electrons indicating the element."

"One hundred and forty-six," Ernest informed them.

"There are currently only one hundred and eleven elements on the periodic table," Daniel countered.

"Only ninety when I last looked," Ernest said dryly.

"Sam should see this," Daniel decided. "This is incredible. We've only been able to speculate on the actual appearance and structure of an atom. The fact that four completely alien races chose to represent it visually in an almost identical way? I mean, these basic elements are what make up the universe. They are the basic building bl..."

Staring ravenously at this gorgeous puzzle, Daniel's decidedly overwhelmed mind finally caught up with his big mouth. He bounced ecstatically and literally ran over to Jack.

"Of course!" he cried, absolutely exhilarated. "How do you ensure universal communication?" he demanded of Jack, who looked as if he sincerely hoped this was a strictly rhetorical question. "You reduce the method of communication to the most basic elements common to everyone and everything that exists in the universe."

He wanted so badly for Jack to understand, to share this with him, to feel even a little of what he was feeling. It was important.

"Jack, this is a true universal language!"

In response, Jack looked up, his eyes widening and softening a little.

For Daniel, who loved him, it was enough. It meant that Jack was open to him.

"Turn the page," Ernest advised, breaking into their moment.

"What?" There couldn't be more!

"Turn the page." A trifle impatient at Daniel's abstraction, Ernest went over to the pedestal and activated the device a second time. It fired a second flare of light up towards the ceiling and the patterns changed.

"Are you saying this is like a book?" Daniel asked him, honestly starting to feel a little dizzy at the enormity of it all.

"I tried to read it," Ernest explained, his face twisting. "I tried to understand, but..." His head dropped in defeat, his thin shoulders sagging.

"A hundred and forty six elements, letters or word symbols," Daniel deduced. "If they're letters, if they're pictographic, I mean, this could take a lifetime."

"More," Ernest acknowledged with dignity.

"Sorry!" Daniel apologised at once, horrified by his faux pas.

"Daniel," Jack interrupted, walking around the dais to stand beside him. "Before your head explodes, may I remind you that we've got more important things to deal with right now?"

"How can you say that?" Daniel looked dismayed. "Don't you know what this means?"

"Actually, no."

"This could be the key to understanding our existence," Daniel explained himself to Jack with quiet, persuasive passion. "Everyone, every thing's existence."

He loved this stuff with every fibre of his being, and it showed. It was what Jack had wanted for him when they came here.

"A collaboration of the knowledge of these four alien species," Ernest immediately seconded Daniel's assertion.

"None of which will mean squat if we can't get out of here," Jack stated with unwelcome pragmatism. It was as much his job to calculate their priorities, set their objectives, make his personnel function together as a team and root them all in practicality, as it was Daniel's to let his imagination and his intellect run wild.

The two of them were not in conflict here and Daniel seemed to know it at least as well as Jack did, or he would be much more angry and impatient than he was. Only, Daniel wasn't quite there yet in grasping that in order to have the freedom to fulfil his function here, he had to let Jack do his part first. Reconnaissance, intelligence, security, logistics... Jack's roles were many but his function was not only to lead his people, but to protect them. That came first. It had to.

Jack locked gazes with Daniel, who wanted him to understand where he was coming from at least as much as Jack wanted Daniel to understand his own point of view. He guessed the need was personal, for both of them.

"The Torment of Tantalus." Ernest seemed to be speaking to himself.

"What?" Jack didn’t follow this seeming non-sequitur.

"Tantalus was a king in Greek mythology banished to Hades." It sounded like something Ernest had thought about. A lot. "Forced to stand in water that receded whenever he tried to drink."

Jack couldn't help sharing a swift, ironic look with Daniel, his own unending temptation.

"He was reaching for something that was...out of reach," Ernest said heavily, his grief palpable.

Sensitive to Ernest's pain, Daniel leaned in to whisper in Jack's ear. "I think Ernest has been alone here the whole time," he confided.

Fifty years? Jesus! "No arguments," Jack said flatly, shuddering in revulsion at the very thought of that kind of isolation. "We get him home before we do anything. Understand?"

Daniel was looking at Ernest. "I understand, Jack. He's why we came here."

Chapters:  | WEAT novel home | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

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