All Those Who Desire It, continued
continued from part 1
Daniel trailed behind the others as they followed Teal'c, too lost in his thoughts to keep pace. They settled down in the soft grass, a large boulder at their backs. At Jack's order, they dug in their packs for MREs before beginning their report. Daniel wrinkled his nose at his rations but gamely started eating.
"First of all," Sam said through a mouthful of spaghetti, "the energy pillars are definitely powered by solar energy. It's incredible, sir. They have enough power to provide the entire town with light and warmth. Even the student housing has running water and the equivalent of an electric kettle for making hot drinks."
"So what's the catch?" Jack asked, frowning.
"The catch, Colonel," said Tom, "is that they're inefficient. The energy pillars give them an abundance of power for two reasons: they don't use very much, and the two suns provide so much solar power in the first place."
"They don't use very much," Jack repeated doubtfully. He glanced at Daniel, who nodded.
"That seems to fit with what I've been seeing and hearing," he said. "A general sense of 'it's good enough, so why improve things?' Oh, they want to know how to be more efficient. They like learning, but it's strictly for learning's sake. They have no interest in improving anything except their own minds."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Tom protested. "Who doesn't want things to get better?"
"These people, apparently," Sam said, her voice dry. She waved the fork in her hand. "I don't know if this planet was first chosen for the solar power offered by binary suns or not, but it's a good thing, considering their reluctance to improve. I have no idea how they have enough power to meet the demands of a growing population. Of course, this is only their university town, so to speak, but I -"
"They don't have a growing population."
"What?" Sam turned to stare at Daniel.
"Their population has remained more or less stable for centuries, Sam. They're having just enough kids to avoid disappearing."
"But why?" she asked plaintively. "Was there some kind of war?"
Daniel shook his head, brows furrowing. "There are some skirmishes, some squabbling, but no real power struggles. They're eager to learn - Abeitu wouldn't exist if they weren't - but they have no interest in any kind of practical application."
"No ambition," said Jack. "No one wants kids. Nobody wants power. No interest in advancement."
"Stagnation," Daniel muttered to himself. "Why?"
"Perhaps this lack of ambition is due to their freedom," Teal'c suggested calmly.
They all turned to stare at him. "You're going to have to explain that one, Teal'c," Daniel said at last. "In our experience, freedom generally encourages advancement."
"People thrive when they're given knowledge," Sam added. "These people have the freedom and safety to learn. They should be advancing, improving."
"Without oppression, why would there be a demand for struggle and ambition?" Teal'c asked. "There must be something to inspire a drive to better a situation."
Daniel blinked at that. Sam looked deeply unhappy. "We're not oppressed," she protested, "and we've never stopped struggling to learn more, to do better."
Teal'c tilted his head to one side, suddenly looking more alien than he had in a long, long time. "In my observations of the Tau'ri," he said, "and from what Daniel Jackson has told me of Earth history -"
Daniel felt himself flush. He'd never been less than honest about the warts and wounds in Earth's past when he discussed it with Teal'c, but he didn't know where this was going.
"Ambition and determination are derived from one of several sources," Teal'c continued. "They can emerge from the suffering of oppression; the desire to oppress others; the wish to defend against oppression; or the belief in a higher power and a desire to satisfy that higher power." He paused. "I, of course, do not believe in false gods," he added flatly. "I cannot speak for Tau'ri beliefs."
There was a long, awkward silence.
"Well, Teal'c," Daniel finally said, his voice subdued, "I don't entirely disagree with you. But I also think that ambition requires an inner drive, even without an outside source to inspire it. It can be used the right way or the wrong way, but a person has to have it. And that's what's missing here."
Sam cleared her throat. "Is there anything you learned today, Daniel, that could explain it?"
"I don't think so." Daniel gave Jack a sidelong glance, but the other man only took another mouthful of beef stew. "I was able to have several very interesting conversations about culture and history, but nothing that would explain the small population and the lack of interest in practical application of anything they learn."
"What about the Stargate?" Tom asked. "Did you find out anything about the ruins we saw?"
"Actually, yes." Daniel sat up a little straighter, hearing his own voice sharpen with eagerness. "They have this formal ceremony, called the Musa'agrav Ritual, at the start of the sheera'a, when both suns share the same quadrant of the sky and the time the Stargate starts functioning again." He frowned, suddenly distracted. "Sam, why would the Stargate only work when both stars are aligned?"
Sam tapped her cheek, considering. "It may be that without that alignment, there's too much interference for the connection," she suggested. "I'd have to study the readings we're getting from our own computers and the instruments I set up, but that sounds pretty likely."
Daniel nodded his understanding. "Okay, so their age of adulthood is nineteen - that’s about fifteen of our years, by the way. Any child who came of age since the last sheera'a participates."
"Participates how?"
"They make the trek up the mountain to the Stargate - the Great Circle - and recite a poem. A riddle, really. Scheduled at dawn, so they can watch the suns rising."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do they do that?" Sam asked patiently. "Why chant this poem or rhyme or whatever at dawn?"
"I don't know." Daniel propped his chin in his hands, thoughtful. "It's a very old custom. I heard this from a man named Ubar, who teaches in the history department, but it sounded more like legend than anything else.
"Apparently, the the ritual used to be annual - Nutesh years, not Ligish years - with every child who'd come of age that year participating. Then, several hundred years ago, there was some kind of tragedy that made them stop for a while. Several children were killed, although the records don't state how, and several others were badly traumatized. The ceremony eventually resumed, but they did it less often - only once a great cycle, now." He sighed. "I wish I understood it better. What happened to the kids, and what was the connection to the Musa'agrav Ritual? What made them start it again? Why was it so important to their culture that they didn't want it to be completely lost? Ubar stressed that, actually - how important it was not to lose the ritual. But when I asked him why, he couldn't answer."
"Couldn't or wouldn't?" Jack asked.
Daniel shook his head. "Couldn't. Jack, I don't think these people know how to lie when it comes to imparting knowledge. It's never going to be used, anyway, so why lie about it?"
They lapsed into silence again, slightly troubled by their inability to understand a people that simultaneously loved to learn and had no interest in applying that prized knowledge. Finally, in what seemed to be more a desire to say something than actually curiosity, Tom asked, "Did you get the actual poem, Dr. Jackson?"
"Yes, actually." Daniel rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a slightly battered notebook. "Ubar actually had two versions: the original, which yes, is written in Furling, and the current version, which is written in their own language." He shook his head. "Y'know, so many of the terms and names here have an Akkadian flavor, but the writing is nothing like cuneiform. I don't know how to -"
Jack cleared his throat pointedly. Daniel, with a small inward sigh, got the message.
"Right. So. All those new to adulthood stand up on the mountain, in front of the Stargate, and recite the following riddle:
Whose was it?
Four who are gone.
Who shall have it?
All those who desire it.
Where were the suns?
Over ring and pilaster.
Where met the shadows?
They were deep at the source.
How was it counted?
Right and right by four, left and left by seven, right by three, left by six, and source and done.
What was offered?
All that they had.
Why did they offer it?
For the sake of the future."
"It doesn't rhyme," Jack complained.
"Yes, Jack." Daniel used his overly patient voice, which he knew always got on Jack's nerves. "Translations don't. If I wanted it to rhyme, I would have to do a free translation instead of a proper one, and we might miss some critical nuances."
"Okaaaay," Tom said, his voice dubious. "So what does it mean?"
"I don't know," Daniel said simply. "Nobody knows. That doesn't seem to bother them, really. And even though they have no idea what it means, it's important enough to their culture to survive some past tragedy and be restored, even if it's less often than it used to be." He carefully tucked the notebook away again. "I asked about the ruin, by the way. I was right: there's a meteor strike documented in their history, and there used to be some kind of monolith next to the Stargate that was destroyed when the cliff fell. And I checked the timing on that. Ubar was a little vague about it, but it sounds like the strike was only a few years before they started the ceremony of adulthood again. I can't determine cause and effect, but it's possible that the monolith had something to do with the tragedy, and its loss was what allowed them to start the Musa'agrav Ritual again."
"Isn't that a bit of a leap, Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel grinned at his fellow civilian, unfazed. "Oh, I'm very good at taking leaps, Dr. Silverstone."
Jack snorted at that, and the talk drifted for a while. Sam went back to discussing the solar energy pillars with Tom, commiserating with his frustration at the people's complete disinterest in any kind of improvement. Daniel found himself studying the strange poem again, wondering what it was supposed to mean.
He jerked back to the present when Sam slapped a hand against her pack in frustration. "It makes no sense," she complained. "Why don't these people care?"
"They don't care, do they," he repeated absently, then sat up. "They don't care," he said again. "Look at this line, Sam: Who shall have it? All those who desire it. We know they seek knowledge for the sake of knowing, but they don't have any real desire. Maybe that's why this riddle has gone unsolved for so long - they just don't care enough to solve it."
"It is a strange way to live," Teal'c said gravely. "Yet they seem content."
"They do, don't they?" Sam agreed. "It's not for me, though."
"That's for sure," said Jack, giving her a sly look. "Can't imagine you being happy if you're not tinkering, Carter."
"Yes, well." She gave a mock sniff. "That's the way we humans always have been." She gestured upwards. "We're all trying to reach the stars, aren't we?"
"Literally," Dr. Silverstone agreed, smiling.
For Daniel, that's when it clicked.
"Yes! Literally!" They all turned to stare at him, but Daniel was too excited to care. He leapt to his feet, waving his notebook wildly. "Literally to the stars, Jack! To use the Stargate!"
"What are you talking about, Daniel?"
"The poem, the ceremony, set at the Stargate right when it turns active… what else are they supposed to seek, if not what's out there?"
"Whose was it? Four who are gone," Sam quoted softly. "You're thinking of the Four Races, aren't you?"
"Yes! Maybe." Daniel read the lines aloud again. "I'm not sure about What did they offer? All that they had."
"Knowledge, perhaps," Teal'c suggested. "The knowledge that would enable these people to meet them."
"They need to solve this." Daniel shook his notebook for emphasis. "It's a part of their heritage that's become empty. They need to get it back."
"Oh, well, maybe we can solve it for them, then," Jack drawled, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. "After all, they've only been trying to figure it out for millennia."
"But they haven't been trying, sir," Sam said patiently. "That's the point."
"So?"
"So, maybe if we figure it out for them, we can kickstart their ambition a little."
"Take off the training wheels?" Daniel suggested.
"They don't have training wheels. They're driving with the emergency brake on. No, they're not even driving. They're just cruising in neutral!" Sam threw up her hands, frustrated.
"A push will not change gears, Captain Carter," Teal'c observed. Daniel slanted him a grin at his friend's new grasp of that particular metaphor, and Teal'c inclined his head slightly in thanks. Daniel's recent driving instructions - if lessons that took place thirty years in the past could be called "recent" - had clearly come in handy.
"No, but if they start moving faster downhill, they might…" Sam trailed off, then sighed. "Okay, we can't take this any further. But would it hurt to try, sir?"
"That question is dangerous, Carter, and you know it." Jack absently slapped his cap against his knee. "All right. Let's hear it again."
*
The shadows deepened further as they discussed the riddle, stretching over them in doubled patterns of dark and darker, until both suns finally set. From what Carter had said, there would only be a few hours of night before the suns rose again. She'd commented on the lack of nocturnal animals, too, speculating that at other times, when the suns didn't share the same section of sky, there might be even fewer hours of darkness. She and Daniel had started an animated discussion, comparing their knowledge of the Land of Light with other places that had hours of day and night skewed out of proportion, until Jack patiently hauled them back on point and got them to actually focus on the puzzle.
"Okay, so given the Furling script on the shattered monolith that matches the same style as the script on the original riddle, we can safely assume that the Furlings had a hand in this," Daniel started. "So Four who are gone probably refers to the Four Races. Let's start with that."
"So the question becomes, what was it," Carter said, aiming her flashlight at the hurriedly-scrawled copy that Daniel had given her. "Whose was it? Whatever it was comes from the Four Races, but what is it?"
"Knowledge," suggested Silverstone, rustling his own copy. "Look at the last lines: What was offered? All that they had. Why did they offer it? For the sake of the future. Offering all that they had and saying it's for the sake of the future definitely implies something that would be of use. If not knowledge, than it might actually refer to technology."
"Even better," Jack muttered.
Daniel nodded. "And that fits, too, with all those who desire it. It's there for the taking, but only if someone puts in the effort first."
"So we have the start and the end, but not the middle." Jack concluded dryly. "Kinda hard to get from point A to point Z without the rest of the alphabet, isn't it?"
Teal'c had closed his eyes some time ago, listening quietly to the discussion without actually saying anything, but now he directed his gaze at the others. "If the Musa'agrav Ritual requires the young adults' presence at the Stargate, it seems likely that the Stargate is involved," he pointed out.
"Good point, T," Jack said. "Well, Carter? Daniel? Does that fit?"
"It might." Daniel squinted down at his own handwriting. The suns are supposed to be over ring and pilaster. The 'ring' in question might be the Stargate, but the people here call it the Great Circle, not the Great Ring." He frowned.
"Maybe you translated it wrong," Jack suggested with a trickle of malice.
Daniel was unfazed. "Yes, maybe I did." His brows drew together in consideration, then he brightened. "Ha! Not just ring, but also pilaster. If we change over ring and pilaster to over circle and monolith, then we're fixing the suns' position from the perspective of the mountaintop."
"You're saying that one sun was just over the Stargate, and the other just over the monolith?" Silverstone asked eagerly.
"It would have to be," Carter said, nodding. "And if we're right, that explains why they restarted the ceremony specifically at the start of a new cycle. These three, four years of the beginning of the sheera'a are the only times the Stargate works, so if a puzzle is going to be related to the Stargate, this is the time for it."
"Okay. So one sun over the Stargate," Jack waved a hand in one direction, "and another over the monolith that doesn't exist anymore." He waved his other hand in the other direction. "Where does that get us, exactly?"
Daniel's face fell. "It gets us nowhere, doesn't it? Without the monolith, how can we go on to the next step?"
"That depends," said Carter thoughtfully. "If there's some technological process that involves the suns shining in just the right spot - if the monolith has a role to play other than just a point in the riddle - then yeah, we're stuck. But if it's just to define the point for the next step, we might still be able to figure it out, except…" Her voice trailed off.
"Triangulation," Jack said, nodding. He stifled a smirk at Silverstone's visible start of surprise. Yeah, civilians always seemed to forget that even if it wasn't actually required, most colonels had a master's degree.
"But what's the third point of the triangle, sir?" Carter asked. She looked unhappy. "If I understand the next part - Where are the shadows? - then we're supposed to use those two points to determine the third. One sun here, the other one there, and the intersection of the shadows determines the third point. How can we do that if we don't have a fixed second point?"
"We might be able to get it," Daniel said. "They might have records of the monolith's height before it was lost in the meteor strike."
"But if the records don't also tell us how much of the mountain fell, that won't actually help," Silverstone pointed out. "That would only give us the right height, but not the distance."
"Right." Carter hissed in frustration. "Was the monolith sited just beyond the new cliff, or further out? If they don't have that information, it's useless."
"Maybe we shouldn't borrow trouble before we need it," Jack cautioned. "Daniel, take Teal'c with you and find that Voodoo guy -"
"Ubar, Jack," Daniel said with forced patience.
"Yeah, yeah. Voodoo, Ubar, whatever. Find him and ask if there any records about the monolith. Whatever they've got."
"Right." Daniel scrambled to his feet as Teal'c rose elegantly, and the two of them set off into the darkness towards the open gates of Abeitu. "It shouldn't take too long," Daniel called over his shoulder, and then shadows swallowed them.
An awkward silence settled over the three that were left. Jack scowled. Not even crickets? The quiet seemed too absolute, and he cleared his throat more for the sound than anything else.
"Can we do any more before they get back?" he asked Carter, flicking a quick look at Silverstone.
"Maybe," she said, looking a bit dubious. "Figuring out deep at the source is going to have to wait, but what about this counting thing?
"Right and right by four, left and left by seven, right by three, left by six, and source and done," Silverstone read aloud. He grimaced. "There's that source thing again. It sounds almost like directions on a treasure map, doesn't it?"
Carter snorted. "Yeah, walk four paces right and seven paces left until you find the point marked X. I don't think so."
Silverstone ducked his head with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, okay. But what does it mean, then?"
Carter drummed her fingers on her knee, then slowly read the poem aloud, from the beginning. "Our hypothesis is that the Musa'agrav Ritual is a riddle left by the Furlings, representing the Four Races," she said, staring vaguely into the distance. "We think they're offering knowledge, or maybe technology, to anyone with the desire and determination to solve the riddle. How will they know if the riddle is solved, then?"
"Good point," Jack said. "How?"
"I don't know…" She lapsed into silence.
They were still sitting there an hour later, staring at the frustrating phrases that they hadn't quite figured out, when a faint voice floated towards them on the night breeze.
"O'Neill."
Jack straightened as Teal'c and Daniel came walking back. Teal'c was stoic as ever, but Daniel's gloomy expression spoke volumes.
"Not good news, huh?" Carter said, sympathetic.
"Not really, no." Daniel flopped down gracelessly with a heavy sigh. "They had records of the monolith's height, but not the distance from the Stargate. I asked if anyone knew how much of the mountaintop had been lost in the meteor strike, but no one had that information." He sprawled out on the grass. "We're so close to this," he told the night sky, "and we can't get it!"
"No, we can," Carter insisted, her voice rising. "I know it."
Deciding it was time to put a halt to the frustration before Daniel and Carter started snarling at each other, Jack said briskly, "Look, people, we're scheduled to report in tomorrow morning. If we don't have it by then, we'll let Hammond decide if it's worth staying longer for this. In the meantime, though, let's set a watch. There aren't too many hours for sleep on this planet, anyway."
Reluctantly, they obeyed. Daniel still muttered parts of the poem aloud as he prepared his sleeping bag.
"Deep at the source. The shadows of the sun met at the source. Maybe that word isn't the best translation, just like ring and pilaster were off. I'm not exactly an expert at Furling."
"What would you choose, if not source?" Silverstone asked. "Is that source as in cause, or something else?"
Daniel's brows drew together. "Starting place, maybe. The shadows were deep at the starting place, at the beginning. The point where everything begins…"
Teal'c looked up sharply. "The point of origin?"
Mouths dropped open.
"Perhaps the riddle offers the key to a Stargate address."
"Teal'c, I could kiss you," Daniel breathed.
One eyebrow shot upward. "No, you could not."
Jack didn't even try to hide his smirk, even as he heard Carter choke back her laugh. "So if Teal'c is right about this, can we manage without the monolith?"
"Yes, sir, we can." In the flashlight's reflection, Carter's eyes were very bright. "We don't have to worry about the triangulation, because we already know the point of origin. We solved that clue before we started. Now all we have to do is figure out those last two lines: How was it counted? Right and right by four, left and left by seven, right by three, left by six, and source and done."
"Teal'c answered that already," Daniel said triumphantly. "It's a Gate address."
"How?" Silverstone asked.
"We'd have to test it, of course," Daniel answered, scrambling back to his feet, "but I'm guessing that we follow the instructions, starting from the point of origin. The fourth right key, then the fourth after that; go back seven, and again seven; go back three, and left six. Hit the point of origin and then the central globe. That's source and done."
"Yes!" Carter exclaimed, clearly ready to join Daniel on his charge up the mountain.
"Put the brakes on, you two," Jack ordered. "It's dark, and that's a good two-hour hike up the mountain, if not longer. It can wait until morning."
"But Jack…!"
"It's waited centuries, Daniel," Jack said impatiently. "It can wait another six hours or so."
Carter settled back down, reluctant but obedient. Daniel, on the other hand, looked mulish.
"I mean it, Daniel," Jack added, eyes narrowed. "No one is going to tumble off a mountain just because you got a little impatient."
The stubborn set of Daniel's mouth faded. "Yeah, okay," he sighed. "I'll take first watch, though. There's no way I'm going to fall asleep now."
*
Sunsrise was glorious, Sam decided as she squinted into the dawn. For all her anticipation over what her instruments could teach them about binary systems, she tried to always remember to savor beauty of the physical sort as well as the glorious mathematical precision of science.
"Ready to go, Jack," Daniel announced, almost bouncing in place.
Sam saw Tom suppress a grin at Daniel's evident excitement. The colonel, on the other hand, was openly laughing at him.
"Bootlaces tied? Lunch packed? Did you remember to go before we leave?"
"Oh, that's funny. Cutting-edge humor, in fact." Daniel took a few impatient steps forward.
"Cool it, Daniel. We'll head out together." Colonel O'Neill nodded at Teal'c. "Take point with Daniel, T. I'll watch our six. Carter, take Silverstone with you."
By the time they had retraced their steps and started up the mountain, Sam was glad that the colonel had insisted on waiting for daylight. She didn't remember so many rough spots in the path, and navigating past the ruined monolith would have been downright treacherous in the dark. Daniel was breathing heavily, but he didn't complain and only continued the climb.
They paused halfway up the mountain for a short break. Tom drank deeply from his canteen before dragging a sleeve across his sweat-dampened forehead.
"I thought I was in good shape," he admitted to her quietly, "and I thought Dr. Jackson was, too. But we're both out of breath."
"So are the rest of us," Sam reassured him, regulating her own breathing. "Well, except Teal'c," she amended, grinning. "But that's because Junior lets him cheat."
"Junior?" Tom repeated.
"His symbiote."
"Oh. Right."
"Seriously, Tom, the air is getting a lot thinner and it's pretty hot already. Don't beat yourself up. Just keep improving."
He flashed her a smile. "I can do that," he agreed, and clipped his canteen back onto his belt.
They finally reached the mountaintop, back where they'd started.
"How much time before we need to report in, sir?" Sam asked.
Colonel O'Neill glanced at his watch. "We've got about half an hour. That'll give you time to play ring-around-the-rosy with the DHD and see if we got the riddle right."
"Right," said Sam, ignoring Tom's stifled snigger and the blank look on Teal'c's face that told her that he hadn't understood the joke. "Daniel, let's do this."
They stepped toward the DHD and Daniel gestured at the point of origin. The symbol was high on the right-hand upper arc of the circle, looking vaguely like a fork - if a fork had six tines and a wicked barb on its handle.
"Are we going to dial, Jack, or write down the symbols?" Daniel asked over his shoulder.
"Write the symbols down first," the colonel ordered. "Then we'll decide."
"Got it." Daniel counted aloud. "Right and right by four… that's this one and this one… left and left by seven… this symbol, and the one right after the point of origin… right by three, okay, left by six…"
He stopped abruptly.
"And source and done," Sam finished for him. "So is that a viable Gate address or not?"
Daniel seemed frozen in place.
"Daniel?" A little worried now, Sam stepped forward and laid a concerned hand on his arm.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, then shook himself. "It's viable," he said hollowly. "And it isn't."
"What do you mean?"
"Sam, look at the symbols."
She leaned over Daniel's notebook, scanning the symbols he'd scribbled down. They seemed alarmingly familiar.
"That's… that's not Abydos, is it?"
"No," Daniel said, his voice heavy. "Almost, but not quite.'
"Oh," she breathed. "It's Heliopolis."
"Yes."
"The Furlings wanted their - their children to follow them, to learn from them."
"Yes. And now it's too late."
They stared at each other for a long, long moment.
Tom awkwardly cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Heliopolis?"
Sam sighed. "It's a long, sad story, Dr. Silverstone."
"Bottom line," the colonel cut in, "it's the place where we first learned about the Alliance of the Four Races. If the Furlings wanted to share their knowledge, that was definitely the place to do it. The problem is that its DHD, and probably the Stargate itself, are sunk at the bottom of an ocean, and the place is completely inaccessible."
"Indeed," said Teal'c. "It is a tragedy that these people waited so long to learn the secret."
"Just a year too late," Daniel said softly. "That hurts."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "It does."
They stood there for a while, trying to gather their thoughts. "What do we do now, sir?" she finally asked.
"We go home, I guess." The colonel nodded at her instruments, still quietly and industriously measuring solar rays and UV radiation and angles and intensities. "You take your toys home and play with your data. Daniel takes his new translations home and plays with his data. Sorry your part of the mission didn't work, Silverstone."
"It was worth coming, sir," Tom replied. "Even if we didn't find any improvements to take home with us, there's a lot to be learned from an entirely different approach, too."
"But what about the people here?" Daniel pressed, waving an arm at the settlement nestled below them in the valley. Bright and welcoming, it seemed to hum with a promise that would never really be fulfilled. "Do we just let them continue as they have been, learning things without ever bothering to apply anything and move forward in their lives? Do we tell them what they've lost?"
"What would be the point, Daniel?" The colonel shook his head. "They don't seem to care."
"They do care about knowledge, and it's their history."
"No, it's not," said the colonel, "because they never tried to make it their history." He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. "Can't live their lives for them, Daniel. They've made their choice."
"They've chosen not to choose!"
"That, too, is a choice, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c pointed out.
"Even if it's not one that we could understand ourselves," Sam said, a little resigned.
"They've made their choice," the colonel repeated firmly. "Carter, collect your doohickeys. Dial it up, Daniel. We're going home."
*
General Hammond scanned the last page of the report in front of him, then leaned back in his chair.
"Well, people," he said in his soft drawl that commanded absolute attention, "this has been an interesting mission." His eyes glinted. "It's good to learn that SG-1 can play nice with others, Colonel."
Captain Carter ducked her head. Teal'c was sure she was smothering a grin. Daniel Jackson, his chin propped on one hand, made no effort to hide his smile.
O'Neill gave a careless shrug. "Silverstone wasn't as bad as I thought he would be," he admitted, glancing at the civilian scientist. "But there's no way of knowing how he would have held up if we'd come under fire."
"Colonel, I was only allowed off-world in the first place because it was a safe planet," Dr. Silverstone pointed out. "If there would've been a risk of battle, I wouldn't have been there."
O'Neill glared at him. "Silverstone, the whole point of going off-world is that we don't know what's going to happen. You got lucky this time. Don't count on it next time."
Teal'c silently agreed with O'Neill's assessment. Dr. Silverstone had been a decent companion on this mission, but it would be unwise to assume that an untrained civilian would survive an attack by Jaffa.
"And will there be a next time, Colonel?" General Hammond folded his hands. "That's what I'd like to know."
O'Neill nodded reluctantly. "If the circumstances are similar, sir. But that doesn't happen with us very often, does it?"
"No one is suggesting that civilians take part in front-line teams on a regular basis, General," Daniel Jackson added, his face very earnest.
"Except you," O'Neill muttered.
Daniel Jackson ignored the comment and continued. "The whole idea of taking civilians off-world is to allow us access to their expertise when we have already assessed the situation as being relatively safe. I'm sure that follow-up missions will be greatly enhanced by -"
"Yes, Dr. Jackson," General Hammond interrupted gently. "I'm aware of your feelings on the matter. And while I agree with Colonel O'Neill that we can't risk civilians on the front lines, I also agree that we could use more expertise on the other side of the Gate." He held up a hand as Daniel Jackson opened his mouth. "That includes your Dr. Rothman. The training program will remain an absolute must, but I think we can see our way to allowing more civilians off-world."
Daniel Jackson sat back, his eyes very bright.
"Returning to the mission," General Hammond went on, "I understand from your report, Captain Carter, that you obtained a great deal of data regarding binary systems. And you, Dr. Jackson, have been able to add to our understanding of the Furling language. If we meet them, we can hope to communicate."
"We'll keep working on it, sir," Daniel Jackson said.
"Which brings me to the next question. Do we want to follow up this mission with a return visit to P3X-993?"
"No," said O'Neill.
"Yes," chorused Captain Carter and Daniel Jackson.
"Uh, I vote yes," said Dr. Silverstone, waving a tentative hand.
Teal'c only lifted a brow.
"General, we know there was a huge potential there that's already lost. The treasure map led back to Heliopolis, and that's beyond us. So what's the point of going back?"
"The point, sir," Captain Carter insisted, "is that there's still a lot more to learn from them. Their culture prizes study and learning and they'll be happy to teach us whatever we ask. We have a limited time window - only about three years before the alignment of the suns will stop the Stargate from working. We should grab this opportunity while we can, sir. Even if the people there can't teach us anything new, we can still study the binary suns and gain a deeper understanding of astrophysics. It's been amazing to see life thriving with two suns."
"And they can teach us something new, sir," Daniel Jackson added. "They might have more direct translations of the original Furling script than the riddle. The more samples I get, the better we can refine our understanding of the Furling language."
"Yes, that riddle," General Hammond said thoughtfully. "A real pity that they didn't seize the opportunity. Did you ever discover what caused them to stop?"
Captain Carter looked a little sick. "We can guess, sir. Daniel's historian said that several children had died and others had been traumatized. We think they some of them did figure out the riddle, but they didn't know anything about the Stargate and…"
Her voice trailed off as they all filled in the mental image by themselves: laughing fifteen-year-olds taking part in the Musa'agrav Ritual, running back and forth through the great stone ring as others pressed curiously at the buttons on the DHD, until that beautiful, deadly event horizon lashed out and forward -
Even General Hammond winced. "A great pity," he said heavily. He sighed and turned to Dr. Silverstone. "Doctor, your report states that the design of their solar power systems are very inefficient compared to ours. If that's the case, why do you think it would be helpful to return to the planet?"
Dr. Silverstone coughed, clearly somewhat uncomfortable at being the focus of attention. "Well, sir, it's true that their methods are inefficient. But they're also very different, sir. It gives us another angle to look at. Maybe we can incorporate some of their ideas into our systems and make our own improvements along the way."
General Hammond nodded. "It looks like you're outvoted, Colonel. I'll send a recommendation for a follow-up mission to P3X-993 and see what team will be assembled to go back."
"As long as it's not us," O'Neill grumbled, but his heart didn't seem to be in it.
"You know, sir," Daniel Jackson said thoughtfully, "this has been very encouraging, in a way. We know the Nox consider us to be, ah, 'too young,' but the Asgard thought we had the chance of becoming the Fifth Race, and now we have proof that the Furlings, too, liked the idea of their children growing up, so to speak." He waved a vague hand. "They left one key behind. Maybe there are others out there."
"We’ll just have to keep looking, then," said General Hammond. "We'll keep trying."
"The Tau'ri are good at that, General Hammond," Teal'c said, allowing his eyes to crinkle at the corners.
Captain Carter smiled back at him. "No matter how you feel about ambition, Teal'c, I think we can all agree that the determination to aspire is a worthy trait."
Teal'c gave her a grave, courteous nod. "Indeed."
*
End notes:
The Air Force requirement for a master's degree to advance from lieutenant colonel to colonel only went into effect in 2014, but most officers made sure to earn the degree anyway.
The shameless rip-off pastiche, of course, if of Arthur Conan Doyle's The Musgrave Ritual. If you have not read the original, please follow the link and enjoy the real thing. :)
Daniel trailed behind the others as they followed Teal'c, too lost in his thoughts to keep pace. They settled down in the soft grass, a large boulder at their backs. At Jack's order, they dug in their packs for MREs before beginning their report. Daniel wrinkled his nose at his rations but gamely started eating.
"First of all," Sam said through a mouthful of spaghetti, "the energy pillars are definitely powered by solar energy. It's incredible, sir. They have enough power to provide the entire town with light and warmth. Even the student housing has running water and the equivalent of an electric kettle for making hot drinks."
"So what's the catch?" Jack asked, frowning.
"The catch, Colonel," said Tom, "is that they're inefficient. The energy pillars give them an abundance of power for two reasons: they don't use very much, and the two suns provide so much solar power in the first place."
"They don't use very much," Jack repeated doubtfully. He glanced at Daniel, who nodded.
"That seems to fit with what I've been seeing and hearing," he said. "A general sense of 'it's good enough, so why improve things?' Oh, they want to know how to be more efficient. They like learning, but it's strictly for learning's sake. They have no interest in improving anything except their own minds."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Tom protested. "Who doesn't want things to get better?"
"These people, apparently," Sam said, her voice dry. She waved the fork in her hand. "I don't know if this planet was first chosen for the solar power offered by binary suns or not, but it's a good thing, considering their reluctance to improve. I have no idea how they have enough power to meet the demands of a growing population. Of course, this is only their university town, so to speak, but I -"
"They don't have a growing population."
"What?" Sam turned to stare at Daniel.
"Their population has remained more or less stable for centuries, Sam. They're having just enough kids to avoid disappearing."
"But why?" she asked plaintively. "Was there some kind of war?"
Daniel shook his head, brows furrowing. "There are some skirmishes, some squabbling, but no real power struggles. They're eager to learn - Abeitu wouldn't exist if they weren't - but they have no interest in any kind of practical application."
"No ambition," said Jack. "No one wants kids. Nobody wants power. No interest in advancement."
"Stagnation," Daniel muttered to himself. "Why?"
"Perhaps this lack of ambition is due to their freedom," Teal'c suggested calmly.
They all turned to stare at him. "You're going to have to explain that one, Teal'c," Daniel said at last. "In our experience, freedom generally encourages advancement."
"People thrive when they're given knowledge," Sam added. "These people have the freedom and safety to learn. They should be advancing, improving."
"Without oppression, why would there be a demand for struggle and ambition?" Teal'c asked. "There must be something to inspire a drive to better a situation."
Daniel blinked at that. Sam looked deeply unhappy. "We're not oppressed," she protested, "and we've never stopped struggling to learn more, to do better."
Teal'c tilted his head to one side, suddenly looking more alien than he had in a long, long time. "In my observations of the Tau'ri," he said, "and from what Daniel Jackson has told me of Earth history -"
Daniel felt himself flush. He'd never been less than honest about the warts and wounds in Earth's past when he discussed it with Teal'c, but he didn't know where this was going.
"Ambition and determination are derived from one of several sources," Teal'c continued. "They can emerge from the suffering of oppression; the desire to oppress others; the wish to defend against oppression; or the belief in a higher power and a desire to satisfy that higher power." He paused. "I, of course, do not believe in false gods," he added flatly. "I cannot speak for Tau'ri beliefs."
There was a long, awkward silence.
"Well, Teal'c," Daniel finally said, his voice subdued, "I don't entirely disagree with you. But I also think that ambition requires an inner drive, even without an outside source to inspire it. It can be used the right way or the wrong way, but a person has to have it. And that's what's missing here."
Sam cleared her throat. "Is there anything you learned today, Daniel, that could explain it?"
"I don't think so." Daniel gave Jack a sidelong glance, but the other man only took another mouthful of beef stew. "I was able to have several very interesting conversations about culture and history, but nothing that would explain the small population and the lack of interest in practical application of anything they learn."
"What about the Stargate?" Tom asked. "Did you find out anything about the ruins we saw?"
"Actually, yes." Daniel sat up a little straighter, hearing his own voice sharpen with eagerness. "They have this formal ceremony, called the Musa'agrav Ritual, at the start of the sheera'a, when both suns share the same quadrant of the sky and the time the Stargate starts functioning again." He frowned, suddenly distracted. "Sam, why would the Stargate only work when both stars are aligned?"
Sam tapped her cheek, considering. "It may be that without that alignment, there's too much interference for the connection," she suggested. "I'd have to study the readings we're getting from our own computers and the instruments I set up, but that sounds pretty likely."
Daniel nodded his understanding. "Okay, so their age of adulthood is nineteen - that’s about fifteen of our years, by the way. Any child who came of age since the last sheera'a participates."
"Participates how?"
"They make the trek up the mountain to the Stargate - the Great Circle - and recite a poem. A riddle, really. Scheduled at dawn, so they can watch the suns rising."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do they do that?" Sam asked patiently. "Why chant this poem or rhyme or whatever at dawn?"
"I don't know." Daniel propped his chin in his hands, thoughtful. "It's a very old custom. I heard this from a man named Ubar, who teaches in the history department, but it sounded more like legend than anything else.
"Apparently, the the ritual used to be annual - Nutesh years, not Ligish years - with every child who'd come of age that year participating. Then, several hundred years ago, there was some kind of tragedy that made them stop for a while. Several children were killed, although the records don't state how, and several others were badly traumatized. The ceremony eventually resumed, but they did it less often - only once a great cycle, now." He sighed. "I wish I understood it better. What happened to the kids, and what was the connection to the Musa'agrav Ritual? What made them start it again? Why was it so important to their culture that they didn't want it to be completely lost? Ubar stressed that, actually - how important it was not to lose the ritual. But when I asked him why, he couldn't answer."
"Couldn't or wouldn't?" Jack asked.
Daniel shook his head. "Couldn't. Jack, I don't think these people know how to lie when it comes to imparting knowledge. It's never going to be used, anyway, so why lie about it?"
They lapsed into silence again, slightly troubled by their inability to understand a people that simultaneously loved to learn and had no interest in applying that prized knowledge. Finally, in what seemed to be more a desire to say something than actually curiosity, Tom asked, "Did you get the actual poem, Dr. Jackson?"
"Yes, actually." Daniel rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a slightly battered notebook. "Ubar actually had two versions: the original, which yes, is written in Furling, and the current version, which is written in their own language." He shook his head. "Y'know, so many of the terms and names here have an Akkadian flavor, but the writing is nothing like cuneiform. I don't know how to -"
Jack cleared his throat pointedly. Daniel, with a small inward sigh, got the message.
"Right. So. All those new to adulthood stand up on the mountain, in front of the Stargate, and recite the following riddle:
Whose was it?
Four who are gone.
Who shall have it?
All those who desire it.
Where were the suns?
Over ring and pilaster.
Where met the shadows?
They were deep at the source.
How was it counted?
Right and right by four, left and left by seven, right by three, left by six, and source and done.
What was offered?
All that they had.
Why did they offer it?
For the sake of the future."
"It doesn't rhyme," Jack complained.
"Yes, Jack." Daniel used his overly patient voice, which he knew always got on Jack's nerves. "Translations don't. If I wanted it to rhyme, I would have to do a free translation instead of a proper one, and we might miss some critical nuances."
"Okaaaay," Tom said, his voice dubious. "So what does it mean?"
"I don't know," Daniel said simply. "Nobody knows. That doesn't seem to bother them, really. And even though they have no idea what it means, it's important enough to their culture to survive some past tragedy and be restored, even if it's less often than it used to be." He carefully tucked the notebook away again. "I asked about the ruin, by the way. I was right: there's a meteor strike documented in their history, and there used to be some kind of monolith next to the Stargate that was destroyed when the cliff fell. And I checked the timing on that. Ubar was a little vague about it, but it sounds like the strike was only a few years before they started the ceremony of adulthood again. I can't determine cause and effect, but it's possible that the monolith had something to do with the tragedy, and its loss was what allowed them to start the Musa'agrav Ritual again."
"Isn't that a bit of a leap, Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel grinned at his fellow civilian, unfazed. "Oh, I'm very good at taking leaps, Dr. Silverstone."
Jack snorted at that, and the talk drifted for a while. Sam went back to discussing the solar energy pillars with Tom, commiserating with his frustration at the people's complete disinterest in any kind of improvement. Daniel found himself studying the strange poem again, wondering what it was supposed to mean.
He jerked back to the present when Sam slapped a hand against her pack in frustration. "It makes no sense," she complained. "Why don't these people care?"
"They don't care, do they," he repeated absently, then sat up. "They don't care," he said again. "Look at this line, Sam: Who shall have it? All those who desire it. We know they seek knowledge for the sake of knowing, but they don't have any real desire. Maybe that's why this riddle has gone unsolved for so long - they just don't care enough to solve it."
"It is a strange way to live," Teal'c said gravely. "Yet they seem content."
"They do, don't they?" Sam agreed. "It's not for me, though."
"That's for sure," said Jack, giving her a sly look. "Can't imagine you being happy if you're not tinkering, Carter."
"Yes, well." She gave a mock sniff. "That's the way we humans always have been." She gestured upwards. "We're all trying to reach the stars, aren't we?"
"Literally," Dr. Silverstone agreed, smiling.
For Daniel, that's when it clicked.
"Yes! Literally!" They all turned to stare at him, but Daniel was too excited to care. He leapt to his feet, waving his notebook wildly. "Literally to the stars, Jack! To use the Stargate!"
"What are you talking about, Daniel?"
"The poem, the ceremony, set at the Stargate right when it turns active… what else are they supposed to seek, if not what's out there?"
"Whose was it? Four who are gone," Sam quoted softly. "You're thinking of the Four Races, aren't you?"
"Yes! Maybe." Daniel read the lines aloud again. "I'm not sure about What did they offer? All that they had."
"Knowledge, perhaps," Teal'c suggested. "The knowledge that would enable these people to meet them."
"They need to solve this." Daniel shook his notebook for emphasis. "It's a part of their heritage that's become empty. They need to get it back."
"Oh, well, maybe we can solve it for them, then," Jack drawled, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. "After all, they've only been trying to figure it out for millennia."
"But they haven't been trying, sir," Sam said patiently. "That's the point."
"So?"
"So, maybe if we figure it out for them, we can kickstart their ambition a little."
"Take off the training wheels?" Daniel suggested.
"They don't have training wheels. They're driving with the emergency brake on. No, they're not even driving. They're just cruising in neutral!" Sam threw up her hands, frustrated.
"A push will not change gears, Captain Carter," Teal'c observed. Daniel slanted him a grin at his friend's new grasp of that particular metaphor, and Teal'c inclined his head slightly in thanks. Daniel's recent driving instructions - if lessons that took place thirty years in the past could be called "recent" - had clearly come in handy.
"No, but if they start moving faster downhill, they might…" Sam trailed off, then sighed. "Okay, we can't take this any further. But would it hurt to try, sir?"
"That question is dangerous, Carter, and you know it." Jack absently slapped his cap against his knee. "All right. Let's hear it again."
*
The shadows deepened further as they discussed the riddle, stretching over them in doubled patterns of dark and darker, until both suns finally set. From what Carter had said, there would only be a few hours of night before the suns rose again. She'd commented on the lack of nocturnal animals, too, speculating that at other times, when the suns didn't share the same section of sky, there might be even fewer hours of darkness. She and Daniel had started an animated discussion, comparing their knowledge of the Land of Light with other places that had hours of day and night skewed out of proportion, until Jack patiently hauled them back on point and got them to actually focus on the puzzle.
"Okay, so given the Furling script on the shattered monolith that matches the same style as the script on the original riddle, we can safely assume that the Furlings had a hand in this," Daniel started. "So Four who are gone probably refers to the Four Races. Let's start with that."
"So the question becomes, what was it," Carter said, aiming her flashlight at the hurriedly-scrawled copy that Daniel had given her. "Whose was it? Whatever it was comes from the Four Races, but what is it?"
"Knowledge," suggested Silverstone, rustling his own copy. "Look at the last lines: What was offered? All that they had. Why did they offer it? For the sake of the future. Offering all that they had and saying it's for the sake of the future definitely implies something that would be of use. If not knowledge, than it might actually refer to technology."
"Even better," Jack muttered.
Daniel nodded. "And that fits, too, with all those who desire it. It's there for the taking, but only if someone puts in the effort first."
"So we have the start and the end, but not the middle." Jack concluded dryly. "Kinda hard to get from point A to point Z without the rest of the alphabet, isn't it?"
Teal'c had closed his eyes some time ago, listening quietly to the discussion without actually saying anything, but now he directed his gaze at the others. "If the Musa'agrav Ritual requires the young adults' presence at the Stargate, it seems likely that the Stargate is involved," he pointed out.
"Good point, T," Jack said. "Well, Carter? Daniel? Does that fit?"
"It might." Daniel squinted down at his own handwriting. The suns are supposed to be over ring and pilaster. The 'ring' in question might be the Stargate, but the people here call it the Great Circle, not the Great Ring." He frowned.
"Maybe you translated it wrong," Jack suggested with a trickle of malice.
Daniel was unfazed. "Yes, maybe I did." His brows drew together in consideration, then he brightened. "Ha! Not just ring, but also pilaster. If we change over ring and pilaster to over circle and monolith, then we're fixing the suns' position from the perspective of the mountaintop."
"You're saying that one sun was just over the Stargate, and the other just over the monolith?" Silverstone asked eagerly.
"It would have to be," Carter said, nodding. "And if we're right, that explains why they restarted the ceremony specifically at the start of a new cycle. These three, four years of the beginning of the sheera'a are the only times the Stargate works, so if a puzzle is going to be related to the Stargate, this is the time for it."
"Okay. So one sun over the Stargate," Jack waved a hand in one direction, "and another over the monolith that doesn't exist anymore." He waved his other hand in the other direction. "Where does that get us, exactly?"
Daniel's face fell. "It gets us nowhere, doesn't it? Without the monolith, how can we go on to the next step?"
"That depends," said Carter thoughtfully. "If there's some technological process that involves the suns shining in just the right spot - if the monolith has a role to play other than just a point in the riddle - then yeah, we're stuck. But if it's just to define the point for the next step, we might still be able to figure it out, except…" Her voice trailed off.
"Triangulation," Jack said, nodding. He stifled a smirk at Silverstone's visible start of surprise. Yeah, civilians always seemed to forget that even if it wasn't actually required, most colonels had a master's degree.
"But what's the third point of the triangle, sir?" Carter asked. She looked unhappy. "If I understand the next part - Where are the shadows? - then we're supposed to use those two points to determine the third. One sun here, the other one there, and the intersection of the shadows determines the third point. How can we do that if we don't have a fixed second point?"
"We might be able to get it," Daniel said. "They might have records of the monolith's height before it was lost in the meteor strike."
"But if the records don't also tell us how much of the mountain fell, that won't actually help," Silverstone pointed out. "That would only give us the right height, but not the distance."
"Right." Carter hissed in frustration. "Was the monolith sited just beyond the new cliff, or further out? If they don't have that information, it's useless."
"Maybe we shouldn't borrow trouble before we need it," Jack cautioned. "Daniel, take Teal'c with you and find that Voodoo guy -"
"Ubar, Jack," Daniel said with forced patience.
"Yeah, yeah. Voodoo, Ubar, whatever. Find him and ask if there any records about the monolith. Whatever they've got."
"Right." Daniel scrambled to his feet as Teal'c rose elegantly, and the two of them set off into the darkness towards the open gates of Abeitu. "It shouldn't take too long," Daniel called over his shoulder, and then shadows swallowed them.
An awkward silence settled over the three that were left. Jack scowled. Not even crickets? The quiet seemed too absolute, and he cleared his throat more for the sound than anything else.
"Can we do any more before they get back?" he asked Carter, flicking a quick look at Silverstone.
"Maybe," she said, looking a bit dubious. "Figuring out deep at the source is going to have to wait, but what about this counting thing?
"Right and right by four, left and left by seven, right by three, left by six, and source and done," Silverstone read aloud. He grimaced. "There's that source thing again. It sounds almost like directions on a treasure map, doesn't it?"
Carter snorted. "Yeah, walk four paces right and seven paces left until you find the point marked X. I don't think so."
Silverstone ducked his head with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, okay. But what does it mean, then?"
Carter drummed her fingers on her knee, then slowly read the poem aloud, from the beginning. "Our hypothesis is that the Musa'agrav Ritual is a riddle left by the Furlings, representing the Four Races," she said, staring vaguely into the distance. "We think they're offering knowledge, or maybe technology, to anyone with the desire and determination to solve the riddle. How will they know if the riddle is solved, then?"
"Good point," Jack said. "How?"
"I don't know…" She lapsed into silence.
They were still sitting there an hour later, staring at the frustrating phrases that they hadn't quite figured out, when a faint voice floated towards them on the night breeze.
"O'Neill."
Jack straightened as Teal'c and Daniel came walking back. Teal'c was stoic as ever, but Daniel's gloomy expression spoke volumes.
"Not good news, huh?" Carter said, sympathetic.
"Not really, no." Daniel flopped down gracelessly with a heavy sigh. "They had records of the monolith's height, but not the distance from the Stargate. I asked if anyone knew how much of the mountaintop had been lost in the meteor strike, but no one had that information." He sprawled out on the grass. "We're so close to this," he told the night sky, "and we can't get it!"
"No, we can," Carter insisted, her voice rising. "I know it."
Deciding it was time to put a halt to the frustration before Daniel and Carter started snarling at each other, Jack said briskly, "Look, people, we're scheduled to report in tomorrow morning. If we don't have it by then, we'll let Hammond decide if it's worth staying longer for this. In the meantime, though, let's set a watch. There aren't too many hours for sleep on this planet, anyway."
Reluctantly, they obeyed. Daniel still muttered parts of the poem aloud as he prepared his sleeping bag.
"Deep at the source. The shadows of the sun met at the source. Maybe that word isn't the best translation, just like ring and pilaster were off. I'm not exactly an expert at Furling."
"What would you choose, if not source?" Silverstone asked. "Is that source as in cause, or something else?"
Daniel's brows drew together. "Starting place, maybe. The shadows were deep at the starting place, at the beginning. The point where everything begins…"
Teal'c looked up sharply. "The point of origin?"
Mouths dropped open.
"Perhaps the riddle offers the key to a Stargate address."
"Teal'c, I could kiss you," Daniel breathed.
One eyebrow shot upward. "No, you could not."
Jack didn't even try to hide his smirk, even as he heard Carter choke back her laugh. "So if Teal'c is right about this, can we manage without the monolith?"
"Yes, sir, we can." In the flashlight's reflection, Carter's eyes were very bright. "We don't have to worry about the triangulation, because we already know the point of origin. We solved that clue before we started. Now all we have to do is figure out those last two lines: How was it counted? Right and right by four, left and left by seven, right by three, left by six, and source and done."
"Teal'c answered that already," Daniel said triumphantly. "It's a Gate address."
"How?" Silverstone asked.
"We'd have to test it, of course," Daniel answered, scrambling back to his feet, "but I'm guessing that we follow the instructions, starting from the point of origin. The fourth right key, then the fourth after that; go back seven, and again seven; go back three, and left six. Hit the point of origin and then the central globe. That's source and done."
"Yes!" Carter exclaimed, clearly ready to join Daniel on his charge up the mountain.
"Put the brakes on, you two," Jack ordered. "It's dark, and that's a good two-hour hike up the mountain, if not longer. It can wait until morning."
"But Jack…!"
"It's waited centuries, Daniel," Jack said impatiently. "It can wait another six hours or so."
Carter settled back down, reluctant but obedient. Daniel, on the other hand, looked mulish.
"I mean it, Daniel," Jack added, eyes narrowed. "No one is going to tumble off a mountain just because you got a little impatient."
The stubborn set of Daniel's mouth faded. "Yeah, okay," he sighed. "I'll take first watch, though. There's no way I'm going to fall asleep now."
*
Sunsrise was glorious, Sam decided as she squinted into the dawn. For all her anticipation over what her instruments could teach them about binary systems, she tried to always remember to savor beauty of the physical sort as well as the glorious mathematical precision of science.
"Ready to go, Jack," Daniel announced, almost bouncing in place.
Sam saw Tom suppress a grin at Daniel's evident excitement. The colonel, on the other hand, was openly laughing at him.
"Bootlaces tied? Lunch packed? Did you remember to go before we leave?"
"Oh, that's funny. Cutting-edge humor, in fact." Daniel took a few impatient steps forward.
"Cool it, Daniel. We'll head out together." Colonel O'Neill nodded at Teal'c. "Take point with Daniel, T. I'll watch our six. Carter, take Silverstone with you."
By the time they had retraced their steps and started up the mountain, Sam was glad that the colonel had insisted on waiting for daylight. She didn't remember so many rough spots in the path, and navigating past the ruined monolith would have been downright treacherous in the dark. Daniel was breathing heavily, but he didn't complain and only continued the climb.
They paused halfway up the mountain for a short break. Tom drank deeply from his canteen before dragging a sleeve across his sweat-dampened forehead.
"I thought I was in good shape," he admitted to her quietly, "and I thought Dr. Jackson was, too. But we're both out of breath."
"So are the rest of us," Sam reassured him, regulating her own breathing. "Well, except Teal'c," she amended, grinning. "But that's because Junior lets him cheat."
"Junior?" Tom repeated.
"His symbiote."
"Oh. Right."
"Seriously, Tom, the air is getting a lot thinner and it's pretty hot already. Don't beat yourself up. Just keep improving."
He flashed her a smile. "I can do that," he agreed, and clipped his canteen back onto his belt.
They finally reached the mountaintop, back where they'd started.
"How much time before we need to report in, sir?" Sam asked.
Colonel O'Neill glanced at his watch. "We've got about half an hour. That'll give you time to play ring-around-the-rosy with the DHD and see if we got the riddle right."
"Right," said Sam, ignoring Tom's stifled snigger and the blank look on Teal'c's face that told her that he hadn't understood the joke. "Daniel, let's do this."
They stepped toward the DHD and Daniel gestured at the point of origin. The symbol was high on the right-hand upper arc of the circle, looking vaguely like a fork - if a fork had six tines and a wicked barb on its handle.
"Are we going to dial, Jack, or write down the symbols?" Daniel asked over his shoulder.
"Write the symbols down first," the colonel ordered. "Then we'll decide."
"Got it." Daniel counted aloud. "Right and right by four… that's this one and this one… left and left by seven… this symbol, and the one right after the point of origin… right by three, okay, left by six…"
He stopped abruptly.
"And source and done," Sam finished for him. "So is that a viable Gate address or not?"
Daniel seemed frozen in place.
"Daniel?" A little worried now, Sam stepped forward and laid a concerned hand on his arm.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, then shook himself. "It's viable," he said hollowly. "And it isn't."
"What do you mean?"
"Sam, look at the symbols."
She leaned over Daniel's notebook, scanning the symbols he'd scribbled down. They seemed alarmingly familiar.
"That's… that's not Abydos, is it?"
"No," Daniel said, his voice heavy. "Almost, but not quite.'
"Oh," she breathed. "It's Heliopolis."
"Yes."
"The Furlings wanted their - their children to follow them, to learn from them."
"Yes. And now it's too late."
They stared at each other for a long, long moment.
Tom awkwardly cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Heliopolis?"
Sam sighed. "It's a long, sad story, Dr. Silverstone."
"Bottom line," the colonel cut in, "it's the place where we first learned about the Alliance of the Four Races. If the Furlings wanted to share their knowledge, that was definitely the place to do it. The problem is that its DHD, and probably the Stargate itself, are sunk at the bottom of an ocean, and the place is completely inaccessible."
"Indeed," said Teal'c. "It is a tragedy that these people waited so long to learn the secret."
"Just a year too late," Daniel said softly. "That hurts."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "It does."
They stood there for a while, trying to gather their thoughts. "What do we do now, sir?" she finally asked.
"We go home, I guess." The colonel nodded at her instruments, still quietly and industriously measuring solar rays and UV radiation and angles and intensities. "You take your toys home and play with your data. Daniel takes his new translations home and plays with his data. Sorry your part of the mission didn't work, Silverstone."
"It was worth coming, sir," Tom replied. "Even if we didn't find any improvements to take home with us, there's a lot to be learned from an entirely different approach, too."
"But what about the people here?" Daniel pressed, waving an arm at the settlement nestled below them in the valley. Bright and welcoming, it seemed to hum with a promise that would never really be fulfilled. "Do we just let them continue as they have been, learning things without ever bothering to apply anything and move forward in their lives? Do we tell them what they've lost?"
"What would be the point, Daniel?" The colonel shook his head. "They don't seem to care."
"They do care about knowledge, and it's their history."
"No, it's not," said the colonel, "because they never tried to make it their history." He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. "Can't live their lives for them, Daniel. They've made their choice."
"They've chosen not to choose!"
"That, too, is a choice, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c pointed out.
"Even if it's not one that we could understand ourselves," Sam said, a little resigned.
"They've made their choice," the colonel repeated firmly. "Carter, collect your doohickeys. Dial it up, Daniel. We're going home."
*
General Hammond scanned the last page of the report in front of him, then leaned back in his chair.
"Well, people," he said in his soft drawl that commanded absolute attention, "this has been an interesting mission." His eyes glinted. "It's good to learn that SG-1 can play nice with others, Colonel."
Captain Carter ducked her head. Teal'c was sure she was smothering a grin. Daniel Jackson, his chin propped on one hand, made no effort to hide his smile.
O'Neill gave a careless shrug. "Silverstone wasn't as bad as I thought he would be," he admitted, glancing at the civilian scientist. "But there's no way of knowing how he would have held up if we'd come under fire."
"Colonel, I was only allowed off-world in the first place because it was a safe planet," Dr. Silverstone pointed out. "If there would've been a risk of battle, I wouldn't have been there."
O'Neill glared at him. "Silverstone, the whole point of going off-world is that we don't know what's going to happen. You got lucky this time. Don't count on it next time."
Teal'c silently agreed with O'Neill's assessment. Dr. Silverstone had been a decent companion on this mission, but it would be unwise to assume that an untrained civilian would survive an attack by Jaffa.
"And will there be a next time, Colonel?" General Hammond folded his hands. "That's what I'd like to know."
O'Neill nodded reluctantly. "If the circumstances are similar, sir. But that doesn't happen with us very often, does it?"
"No one is suggesting that civilians take part in front-line teams on a regular basis, General," Daniel Jackson added, his face very earnest.
"Except you," O'Neill muttered.
Daniel Jackson ignored the comment and continued. "The whole idea of taking civilians off-world is to allow us access to their expertise when we have already assessed the situation as being relatively safe. I'm sure that follow-up missions will be greatly enhanced by -"
"Yes, Dr. Jackson," General Hammond interrupted gently. "I'm aware of your feelings on the matter. And while I agree with Colonel O'Neill that we can't risk civilians on the front lines, I also agree that we could use more expertise on the other side of the Gate." He held up a hand as Daniel Jackson opened his mouth. "That includes your Dr. Rothman. The training program will remain an absolute must, but I think we can see our way to allowing more civilians off-world."
Daniel Jackson sat back, his eyes very bright.
"Returning to the mission," General Hammond went on, "I understand from your report, Captain Carter, that you obtained a great deal of data regarding binary systems. And you, Dr. Jackson, have been able to add to our understanding of the Furling language. If we meet them, we can hope to communicate."
"We'll keep working on it, sir," Daniel Jackson said.
"Which brings me to the next question. Do we want to follow up this mission with a return visit to P3X-993?"
"No," said O'Neill.
"Yes," chorused Captain Carter and Daniel Jackson.
"Uh, I vote yes," said Dr. Silverstone, waving a tentative hand.
Teal'c only lifted a brow.
"General, we know there was a huge potential there that's already lost. The treasure map led back to Heliopolis, and that's beyond us. So what's the point of going back?"
"The point, sir," Captain Carter insisted, "is that there's still a lot more to learn from them. Their culture prizes study and learning and they'll be happy to teach us whatever we ask. We have a limited time window - only about three years before the alignment of the suns will stop the Stargate from working. We should grab this opportunity while we can, sir. Even if the people there can't teach us anything new, we can still study the binary suns and gain a deeper understanding of astrophysics. It's been amazing to see life thriving with two suns."
"And they can teach us something new, sir," Daniel Jackson added. "They might have more direct translations of the original Furling script than the riddle. The more samples I get, the better we can refine our understanding of the Furling language."
"Yes, that riddle," General Hammond said thoughtfully. "A real pity that they didn't seize the opportunity. Did you ever discover what caused them to stop?"
Captain Carter looked a little sick. "We can guess, sir. Daniel's historian said that several children had died and others had been traumatized. We think they some of them did figure out the riddle, but they didn't know anything about the Stargate and…"
Her voice trailed off as they all filled in the mental image by themselves: laughing fifteen-year-olds taking part in the Musa'agrav Ritual, running back and forth through the great stone ring as others pressed curiously at the buttons on the DHD, until that beautiful, deadly event horizon lashed out and forward -
Even General Hammond winced. "A great pity," he said heavily. He sighed and turned to Dr. Silverstone. "Doctor, your report states that the design of their solar power systems are very inefficient compared to ours. If that's the case, why do you think it would be helpful to return to the planet?"
Dr. Silverstone coughed, clearly somewhat uncomfortable at being the focus of attention. "Well, sir, it's true that their methods are inefficient. But they're also very different, sir. It gives us another angle to look at. Maybe we can incorporate some of their ideas into our systems and make our own improvements along the way."
General Hammond nodded. "It looks like you're outvoted, Colonel. I'll send a recommendation for a follow-up mission to P3X-993 and see what team will be assembled to go back."
"As long as it's not us," O'Neill grumbled, but his heart didn't seem to be in it.
"You know, sir," Daniel Jackson said thoughtfully, "this has been very encouraging, in a way. We know the Nox consider us to be, ah, 'too young,' but the Asgard thought we had the chance of becoming the Fifth Race, and now we have proof that the Furlings, too, liked the idea of their children growing up, so to speak." He waved a vague hand. "They left one key behind. Maybe there are others out there."
"We’ll just have to keep looking, then," said General Hammond. "We'll keep trying."
"The Tau'ri are good at that, General Hammond," Teal'c said, allowing his eyes to crinkle at the corners.
Captain Carter smiled back at him. "No matter how you feel about ambition, Teal'c, I think we can all agree that the determination to aspire is a worthy trait."
Teal'c gave her a grave, courteous nod. "Indeed."
*
End notes:
The Air Force requirement for a master's degree to advance from lieutenant colonel to colonel only went into effect in 2014, but most officers made sure to earn the degree anyway.
The shameless rip-off pastiche, of course, if of Arthur Conan Doyle's The Musgrave Ritual. If you have not read the original, please follow the link and enjoy the real thing. :)