New SG-1 fic: F is For Fandom (aka "No One Expects the Fannish Inquisition")
[notes]: SG-1. Gen. S9ish. PG (language). ~3000 words. Posted 05/27/2014.
[summary]: Daniel Jackson vs. Wormhole XTreme fandom.
[author note]: For Genfic Day - Episode Alphabet Soup.
@AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1699319
The email sat in his inbox for weeks. He only even noticed it after scrolling back through ten screens of messages trying to find one about translating text on an artifact SG-18 had brought back, that Bill Lee insisted he'd sent months ago.
Daniel blinked at the subject line a few times before he opened it, and blinked several more times as he read the message. He then forwarded it to Sam with a note: "Am I being trolled?"
Three days later the message ended up back in his inbox, this time forwarded by Jack (via Sam, the traitor), with a note: THIS IS PERFECT YOU HAVE TO GO.
Two days after that, Daniel got another email, this one confirming his special scholar guest of honor registration for Con-Treme, the premier Wormhole X-Treme! fan convention, complete with the list of panels he'd been assigned to sit on. And a public lecture. And a Q&A. And judging the constume contest.
Daniel sat in front of his computer for six hours, until Jack accepted the video chat invite Daniel had been resending him every fifteen minutes. The chat window popped open to display the deck over the pond at Jack's cabin, backgrounded by a brilliant sunset. Jack's face resolved on the screen at an odd angle, apparently peering down over the top of the laptop screen. "Hey, Daniel."
"Fuck you, Jack."
Jack just grinned, unrepentant, as his image righted and he sat down in front of the laptop. "Miss you too, buddy."
"What the hell, Jack. A Wormhole X-Treme convention? Are you punishing me? What did I do?"
"What? You always complain you don't get to do the academic jibber jabber circuit anymore. Come on, an adoring audience hanging on your every word..."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "This is not the same thing, Jack. How did they even get my name? Why would they even want me?"
"Beats me, but obviously someone was taken with you."
"How is this even a good idea?"
"Come on, Daniel." Jack reached out of the image and pulled back in with a beer. "You remember what Hammond said when the whole thing first happened. The whole point of letting the studio and Marty go ahead with the dumb show was plausible deniability. These people may be a little weird, but most of them just like a TV show. And for the few who might be a problem, well, there's no better way to convince a bunch of conspiracy theorists they're right than to tell them they're wrong."
He could translate alien languages with ease, but translating Jack O'Neill into reality was still a challenge. "Jack, are you listening to a word you say?"
Jack waved the beer bottle dismissively. "Okay, look, yes. It's contradictory, but we have to keep in mind the idea that the program may go public someday." Jack sighed, picking at the label on the beer bottle and Daniel was suddenly struck by how tired he looked. "Look, the more shit that goes down closer to Earth, the harder controlling information about the program gets. Homeworld Security has a special task force assigned to putting crap on the internet to misdirect them. But you have to maintain that. If you don't feed the lions something to keep them occupied, they're going to go looking for something to eat."
Daniel was't really sure if he should be taking that as a metaphor or Jack actually thowing him to the lions. "So, you want me to go to a fan convention and what... debunk myself?"
"Daniel, you just be your charming, boring self, and I'm sure they'll be lulled into a false sense of... false security. Tell them if there were a government agency running a secret alien transport program that we'd be good at it. Benevolent. Friendly. You know, seed the idea that we're the good guys, so if the program ever has to go public, they like us."
"How Orwellian of you," Daniel said dryly, and Jack smiled and gave him the finger.
"I'll send you the list of talking points to hit."
"Fine, but I'm expensing this."
*******
He'd never ever, ever, ever admit it to Jack, ever, but within a few hours of arriving at the convention Daniel decided he was a fan of Wormhole X-Treme! fandom.
"Dr. Jackson!"
At the airport he saw a tall woman sporting a Wormhole X-Treme! t-shirt, electric blue hair in a loose afro, holding up a sign with his name in neat block letters. She clearly recognized him, waving as she jogged up to meet him at the baggage carousel. "I'm Tekia," she held out a hand, "your liason."
Daniel shook her hand and let her grab his carryall off the conveyor when she waved him off as he reached for it. "Which means?"
She slung his carryall over her shoulder. "I'll get you to the convention center, get you to your panels, answer any questions you have about the convention."
"That's... very nice," Daniel said as he followed her through the throngs of passengers waiting for their bags, "but I think I can manage on my own."
Tekia grinned. "Have you ever been to a fan con?"
"No," Daniel said, vaguely concerned by the gleam in her eyes, "this is my first."
She held open the door that led out to the parking structure for him. "Then maybe you should hold that thought."
Tekia was a charming hostess, and they talked Boas, Hymes and Judith Butler and how she'd gotten into fandom on the drive to the convention center, after she mentioned that she was working on her PhD in linguistic anthropology. "I know it's ridiculous, after a friend showed me the the episodes, I was just... It was silly and fun, but there was something bigger there, the idea of these complete strangers going out into the galaxy, all different but figuring each other out and becoming friends. That whole found family thing is totally one of my bulletproof kinks. Not that kind of kink," she amended, catching his eyebrows go up. "I mean it can be, but usually it's fan speak for things like narrative devices, tropes, and the like, the things that will always make you watch a source, no matter what it's about."
Daniel filed away the terminology, fascinated.
"Anyway, I wanted to be just like Dr. Levant, and when I graduated from college and wasn't sure what to do, I thought, well, here's my chance." She glanced over at him. "Have I terrified you yet?"
"No, no. This is really interesting. Really," he said as she side-eyed him. "I think this is going to be fun."
********
For all Tekia's descriptions in preparation, the convention itself was a bit of a shock - a crowd of a few thousand filled the space with a dizzying array of t-shirts and costumes and in-jokes and props. "Its pretty slow right now since its early Friday afternoon, and this is still a small con," Tekia said as she handed Daniel a badge on a lanyard and a thick manila envelope before leading him through a side door, flashing her badge to a man in an X-Treme! Volunteer! t-shirt. "But tomorrow it'll really kick into gear."
Daniel trailed her down the stairs onto the main floor hall tried not to gape as she led him through checking in at the hotel front desk and introducing him to a group of three women and one man tucked into a board room with a hand-made sign labeling it as Ops. "If you need anything and can't get a hold of me, come here, and whoever is on staff will take care of you." Her phone trilled, and she pulled it from her pocket and swore under her breath. "Sorry, I forgot I'm supposed to be moderating a panel in fifteen minutes. Do you want me to find someone to show you around until I'm done?"
"No, I think I'll just wander a bit, take it all in." He wasn't sure if he was grateful or a little insulted at the skeptical tilt of her head. "Really, go." He shooed her off. "I'm an anthropologist. I can handle this."
"Okay, I'll meet you back here at 4:00 and take you to your first panel."
Back out on the convention floor Daniel meandered through the crowd, taking in a dizzying array of people, costumes, art, crafts, t-shirts with quotes and obvious in-jokes. The idea of such passion for a topic certainly wasn't foreign to him, of all people, but what baffled him was how a television show that lasted only a few episodes could have had such an impact?
It clearly wasn't just a bunch of kids or, as Jack so lovingly said, obsessed nerds with no lives - Tekia was an incredibly bright scholar, and the two teenagers he'd just passed were having a discussion about string theory that would have kept Sam interested and engaged. He saw grandmothers and kids. Such a variety of people that he'd never expected.
By the time he met back up with Tekia at Ops, he was thoroughly charmed by Wormhole X-Treme! fandom.
*************
Sunday morning found him hurrying to his final panel, juggling a cup of coffee, his messenger bag and the convention program, as he tried to find the room for his final panel: "Creating Canon from Conundrum: The Mystery and Mythology behind Wormhole X-Treme!"
It was listed as a Q&A, just him and a moderator who would handle the questions from the audience. If he managed to get there, it sounded like a relaxing way to end the day.
The small auditorium was almost full by the Daniel made his way through the thinning crowds in the convention hall, having gotten distracted in the dealer's room finding little things to send to Sam and Teal'c. He wasn't going to get anything for Jack, entirely out of spite, but then he found a quite well-made cross-stitch of Colonel Danning looking particularly Jack-like, with his "It's what I do" catchphrase embroidered around the edges, and decided that was even better.
He trotted up onto the stage at the moderator's urging, letting the young woman with brown hair and cats-eye glasses, whose badge identified her as SquirmyWormer (which was much less bizarre now that fandom pseudonyms had been thoroughly explained) clip a wireless mic onto his jacket lapel. "Sorry, sorry," he said by way of testing the volume - it rang out clearly over the crowd. "Just picking up some souvenirs."
The audience murmured appreciative laughter and SW (okay, less bizarre, but he still couldn't think of her with the whole thing) stood up from the table and smiled. "Everyone, I am pleased to introduce Dr. Daniel Jackson, an expert in Egyptology, a linguist and an anthropologist, who has graciously joined us to look at the real world myths and mysteries that lie at the foundation of the Wormhole X-Treme! universe. To start things off, can you give us some insights, Dr. Jackson, into what the writers may have been thinking when pulling specifically from ancient Egypt to create their world of aliens and space travel?"
Daniel settled back into his chair and cleared his throat. "Well, the connection between the earliest human technologies and the idea of alien influence has long been a part of any discussion of archaeology, from Easter Island to the pyramids from Egyptian, Mayan and Aztec cultures, to the idea of lost civilizations such as Atlantis. It was most prominently popularized by Erich von Däniken and his book "Chariot of the Gods," but there are innumerable scholars who have specialized in this particular form of historical revisionism. You can hardly deny that the ideas certainly inspire grand stories."
The questions lobbed his way by the eager audience were surprisingly astute, and there were even some moments of lively debate, and by the time things began to wind down Daniel was actually feeling a bit guilty as he did as Jack had asked and denied, debunked and mis-directed. Then a blonde woman dressed in a incredibly accurate version of the Wormhole X-Treme! team uniform stepped up to the stand mic at the base of the auditorium stage. She cradled a thick folder in one arm. "Dr. Jackson, thank you for taking the time to come out here and talk to us."
"Of course, Ms...?"
"My name's Karen." Karen smiled, and Daniel smiled back.
It was the last time he would do so for the rest of the day.
"Dr. Jackson," Karen said, glancing down at the folder she was holding, "I was interested to find that your earliest research into the idea of the origin of the Egyptian pyramids as landing sites for alien spacecraft is very similar to the background created for Dr. Levant. Can you confirm that you were the the model for the character?"
Daniel blinked. "Well, I've never had anything to do with the show, so I can't speak to that."
"Interesting," Karen said. "I ask because Martin Lloyd recently gave an interview to Wormhole Weekly about how he came up with the idea for the show, and he talked about his work with the Air Force as consultants on the military aspect of the show, and said that it was through them he met an archaeologist with expertise in Egypt who brought the whole idea of the ancient gate to the stars buried in the desert to life."
Oh. Shit. Daniel wiggled his phone out of his pocket, and making sure it was set to silent all, attempted to stealthily text Jack: Did u know Martin Lloyd's giving interviews? Apparently v. detailed ones?
"I wasn't aware of that," Daniel said as he thumbed out the message. "Obviously Mr. Lloyd must have found some of my early research. It's quite flattering, I must admit."
"Do you still stand by your theories, Dr Jackson?" Karen asked.
"I've had a lot of theories over the course of my career, and not all of them have been supported by evidence, and I've not been able to find evidence to support them all. I''ve moved on from the more fanciful world of aliens and spaceships."
No one looked like they were lining up behind her, so when she held up her hand again, the moderator waved her a go-ahead.
"What are some of your more recent theories, Dr. Jackson?" She flipped open the folder and peered down at the contents. "Based on your curriculum vita, you haven't published anything in the last five years, and even before that your record showed a rapid decline in production. You have no current academic institutional affiliation. What do you do, exactly?"
Daniel sat up ramrod straight. "How did you get my vita?"
"Google," she countered. "Do you work with the Air Force, Dr. Jackson?"
"Of course not. The Air Force doesn't have much use for Egyptologists." He glanced to SW for help, but she looked fascinated by the turn things had taken, and Karen was already charging on.
"Do you know Joe Vernon?"
Shit. Oh no. No, no, no. "No?" Daniel furiously texted Jack: Houston, we have a problem.
"Because I ran across an article that referenced a Dr. Jordan from University of Chicago. It mentioned that he was killed in a lab accident while investigating two artifacts brought back from a 1931 Egyptian expedition, one that was famously cursed. And I realized I'd heard that story before. And after I dug around, I realized it was one of Joe's stories."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh," SW leaned over and covered his mic. "Joe wrote these awesome Wormhole X-Treme! fics with original characters. Really detailed. He's got quite a following. Of course, he's a guy so everyone acts like he walks on water, but hey, that's fandom for you... No offense."
"None taken." a BIG problem Jack
"And so I started looking up a few other things from Joe's stories," Karen was saying, "and found some interesting matches to real life events - the disappearance of Adrian Conrad, the destruction of Immunitech Research and the death of one of its employees, Dr. Flemming. Stories of alien creatures in Colorado Springs... But I think the most interesting is that Joe had a character named Daniel Jackson. Well, he did until about a year ago, when he pulled down all his old stories and vanished from fandom."
Jack did you know Joe Vernon was a Wormhole X-Treme! fan? Apparently a big name one? Who wrote fan fiction? With our names? AND PUBLISHED IT ON THE INTERNET?
"Is it true, Dr. Jackson, that the world of Wormhole X-Treme! isn't just loosely inspired by your early work, but is in fact based of events in your actual life? That you did not only find evidence of aliens, but that you in fact are currently involved in a secret government project involving intergalactic travel?"
The room positively buzzed with anticipation as Karen took a deliberate step back from the mic. Daniel had to give her credit - no matter what he said, it was not going to make a damn bit of difference. "Well... That's... well..." He dug the list of talking points out of his pocket and scanned it. Nothing looked helpful. He looked back at Karen, who pinned him with a challenging gaze. Okay Jack, he thought. Don't say you didn't ask for this.
"That's classified," Daniel said firmly.
Oooooooh, went the room, and hands started popping up everywhere. Karen snapped her folder shut and gave him little wave as she faded into a second wave of eager fans rushing to the mic.
Daniel relaxed back into his chair as SW tried to sort out the deluge of new questions, and sent to Jack:
Just remember, this was YOUR bright idea
[summary]: Daniel Jackson vs. Wormhole XTreme fandom.
[author note]: For Genfic Day - Episode Alphabet Soup.
@AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1699319
The email sat in his inbox for weeks. He only even noticed it after scrolling back through ten screens of messages trying to find one about translating text on an artifact SG-18 had brought back, that Bill Lee insisted he'd sent months ago.
Daniel blinked at the subject line a few times before he opened it, and blinked several more times as he read the message. He then forwarded it to Sam with a note: "Am I being trolled?"
Three days later the message ended up back in his inbox, this time forwarded by Jack (via Sam, the traitor), with a note: THIS IS PERFECT YOU HAVE TO GO.
Two days after that, Daniel got another email, this one confirming his special scholar guest of honor registration for Con-Treme, the premier Wormhole X-Treme! fan convention, complete with the list of panels he'd been assigned to sit on. And a public lecture. And a Q&A. And judging the constume contest.
Daniel sat in front of his computer for six hours, until Jack accepted the video chat invite Daniel had been resending him every fifteen minutes. The chat window popped open to display the deck over the pond at Jack's cabin, backgrounded by a brilliant sunset. Jack's face resolved on the screen at an odd angle, apparently peering down over the top of the laptop screen. "Hey, Daniel."
"Fuck you, Jack."
Jack just grinned, unrepentant, as his image righted and he sat down in front of the laptop. "Miss you too, buddy."
"What the hell, Jack. A Wormhole X-Treme convention? Are you punishing me? What did I do?"
"What? You always complain you don't get to do the academic jibber jabber circuit anymore. Come on, an adoring audience hanging on your every word..."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "This is not the same thing, Jack. How did they even get my name? Why would they even want me?"
"Beats me, but obviously someone was taken with you."
"How is this even a good idea?"
"Come on, Daniel." Jack reached out of the image and pulled back in with a beer. "You remember what Hammond said when the whole thing first happened. The whole point of letting the studio and Marty go ahead with the dumb show was plausible deniability. These people may be a little weird, but most of them just like a TV show. And for the few who might be a problem, well, there's no better way to convince a bunch of conspiracy theorists they're right than to tell them they're wrong."
He could translate alien languages with ease, but translating Jack O'Neill into reality was still a challenge. "Jack, are you listening to a word you say?"
Jack waved the beer bottle dismissively. "Okay, look, yes. It's contradictory, but we have to keep in mind the idea that the program may go public someday." Jack sighed, picking at the label on the beer bottle and Daniel was suddenly struck by how tired he looked. "Look, the more shit that goes down closer to Earth, the harder controlling information about the program gets. Homeworld Security has a special task force assigned to putting crap on the internet to misdirect them. But you have to maintain that. If you don't feed the lions something to keep them occupied, they're going to go looking for something to eat."
Daniel was't really sure if he should be taking that as a metaphor or Jack actually thowing him to the lions. "So, you want me to go to a fan convention and what... debunk myself?"
"Daniel, you just be your charming, boring self, and I'm sure they'll be lulled into a false sense of... false security. Tell them if there were a government agency running a secret alien transport program that we'd be good at it. Benevolent. Friendly. You know, seed the idea that we're the good guys, so if the program ever has to go public, they like us."
"How Orwellian of you," Daniel said dryly, and Jack smiled and gave him the finger.
"I'll send you the list of talking points to hit."
"Fine, but I'm expensing this."
*******
He'd never ever, ever, ever admit it to Jack, ever, but within a few hours of arriving at the convention Daniel decided he was a fan of Wormhole X-Treme! fandom.
"Dr. Jackson!"
At the airport he saw a tall woman sporting a Wormhole X-Treme! t-shirt, electric blue hair in a loose afro, holding up a sign with his name in neat block letters. She clearly recognized him, waving as she jogged up to meet him at the baggage carousel. "I'm Tekia," she held out a hand, "your liason."
Daniel shook her hand and let her grab his carryall off the conveyor when she waved him off as he reached for it. "Which means?"
She slung his carryall over her shoulder. "I'll get you to the convention center, get you to your panels, answer any questions you have about the convention."
"That's... very nice," Daniel said as he followed her through the throngs of passengers waiting for their bags, "but I think I can manage on my own."
Tekia grinned. "Have you ever been to a fan con?"
"No," Daniel said, vaguely concerned by the gleam in her eyes, "this is my first."
She held open the door that led out to the parking structure for him. "Then maybe you should hold that thought."
Tekia was a charming hostess, and they talked Boas, Hymes and Judith Butler and how she'd gotten into fandom on the drive to the convention center, after she mentioned that she was working on her PhD in linguistic anthropology. "I know it's ridiculous, after a friend showed me the the episodes, I was just... It was silly and fun, but there was something bigger there, the idea of these complete strangers going out into the galaxy, all different but figuring each other out and becoming friends. That whole found family thing is totally one of my bulletproof kinks. Not that kind of kink," she amended, catching his eyebrows go up. "I mean it can be, but usually it's fan speak for things like narrative devices, tropes, and the like, the things that will always make you watch a source, no matter what it's about."
Daniel filed away the terminology, fascinated.
"Anyway, I wanted to be just like Dr. Levant, and when I graduated from college and wasn't sure what to do, I thought, well, here's my chance." She glanced over at him. "Have I terrified you yet?"
"No, no. This is really interesting. Really," he said as she side-eyed him. "I think this is going to be fun."
********
For all Tekia's descriptions in preparation, the convention itself was a bit of a shock - a crowd of a few thousand filled the space with a dizzying array of t-shirts and costumes and in-jokes and props. "Its pretty slow right now since its early Friday afternoon, and this is still a small con," Tekia said as she handed Daniel a badge on a lanyard and a thick manila envelope before leading him through a side door, flashing her badge to a man in an X-Treme! Volunteer! t-shirt. "But tomorrow it'll really kick into gear."
Daniel trailed her down the stairs onto the main floor hall tried not to gape as she led him through checking in at the hotel front desk and introducing him to a group of three women and one man tucked into a board room with a hand-made sign labeling it as Ops. "If you need anything and can't get a hold of me, come here, and whoever is on staff will take care of you." Her phone trilled, and she pulled it from her pocket and swore under her breath. "Sorry, I forgot I'm supposed to be moderating a panel in fifteen minutes. Do you want me to find someone to show you around until I'm done?"
"No, I think I'll just wander a bit, take it all in." He wasn't sure if he was grateful or a little insulted at the skeptical tilt of her head. "Really, go." He shooed her off. "I'm an anthropologist. I can handle this."
"Okay, I'll meet you back here at 4:00 and take you to your first panel."
Back out on the convention floor Daniel meandered through the crowd, taking in a dizzying array of people, costumes, art, crafts, t-shirts with quotes and obvious in-jokes. The idea of such passion for a topic certainly wasn't foreign to him, of all people, but what baffled him was how a television show that lasted only a few episodes could have had such an impact?
It clearly wasn't just a bunch of kids or, as Jack so lovingly said, obsessed nerds with no lives - Tekia was an incredibly bright scholar, and the two teenagers he'd just passed were having a discussion about string theory that would have kept Sam interested and engaged. He saw grandmothers and kids. Such a variety of people that he'd never expected.
By the time he met back up with Tekia at Ops, he was thoroughly charmed by Wormhole X-Treme! fandom.
*************
Sunday morning found him hurrying to his final panel, juggling a cup of coffee, his messenger bag and the convention program, as he tried to find the room for his final panel: "Creating Canon from Conundrum: The Mystery and Mythology behind Wormhole X-Treme!"
It was listed as a Q&A, just him and a moderator who would handle the questions from the audience. If he managed to get there, it sounded like a relaxing way to end the day.
The small auditorium was almost full by the Daniel made his way through the thinning crowds in the convention hall, having gotten distracted in the dealer's room finding little things to send to Sam and Teal'c. He wasn't going to get anything for Jack, entirely out of spite, but then he found a quite well-made cross-stitch of Colonel Danning looking particularly Jack-like, with his "It's what I do" catchphrase embroidered around the edges, and decided that was even better.
He trotted up onto the stage at the moderator's urging, letting the young woman with brown hair and cats-eye glasses, whose badge identified her as SquirmyWormer (which was much less bizarre now that fandom pseudonyms had been thoroughly explained) clip a wireless mic onto his jacket lapel. "Sorry, sorry," he said by way of testing the volume - it rang out clearly over the crowd. "Just picking up some souvenirs."
The audience murmured appreciative laughter and SW (okay, less bizarre, but he still couldn't think of her with the whole thing) stood up from the table and smiled. "Everyone, I am pleased to introduce Dr. Daniel Jackson, an expert in Egyptology, a linguist and an anthropologist, who has graciously joined us to look at the real world myths and mysteries that lie at the foundation of the Wormhole X-Treme! universe. To start things off, can you give us some insights, Dr. Jackson, into what the writers may have been thinking when pulling specifically from ancient Egypt to create their world of aliens and space travel?"
Daniel settled back into his chair and cleared his throat. "Well, the connection between the earliest human technologies and the idea of alien influence has long been a part of any discussion of archaeology, from Easter Island to the pyramids from Egyptian, Mayan and Aztec cultures, to the idea of lost civilizations such as Atlantis. It was most prominently popularized by Erich von Däniken and his book "Chariot of the Gods," but there are innumerable scholars who have specialized in this particular form of historical revisionism. You can hardly deny that the ideas certainly inspire grand stories."
The questions lobbed his way by the eager audience were surprisingly astute, and there were even some moments of lively debate, and by the time things began to wind down Daniel was actually feeling a bit guilty as he did as Jack had asked and denied, debunked and mis-directed. Then a blonde woman dressed in a incredibly accurate version of the Wormhole X-Treme! team uniform stepped up to the stand mic at the base of the auditorium stage. She cradled a thick folder in one arm. "Dr. Jackson, thank you for taking the time to come out here and talk to us."
"Of course, Ms...?"
"My name's Karen." Karen smiled, and Daniel smiled back.
It was the last time he would do so for the rest of the day.
"Dr. Jackson," Karen said, glancing down at the folder she was holding, "I was interested to find that your earliest research into the idea of the origin of the Egyptian pyramids as landing sites for alien spacecraft is very similar to the background created for Dr. Levant. Can you confirm that you were the the model for the character?"
Daniel blinked. "Well, I've never had anything to do with the show, so I can't speak to that."
"Interesting," Karen said. "I ask because Martin Lloyd recently gave an interview to Wormhole Weekly about how he came up with the idea for the show, and he talked about his work with the Air Force as consultants on the military aspect of the show, and said that it was through them he met an archaeologist with expertise in Egypt who brought the whole idea of the ancient gate to the stars buried in the desert to life."
Oh. Shit. Daniel wiggled his phone out of his pocket, and making sure it was set to silent all, attempted to stealthily text Jack: Did u know Martin Lloyd's giving interviews? Apparently v. detailed ones?
"I wasn't aware of that," Daniel said as he thumbed out the message. "Obviously Mr. Lloyd must have found some of my early research. It's quite flattering, I must admit."
"Do you still stand by your theories, Dr Jackson?" Karen asked.
"I've had a lot of theories over the course of my career, and not all of them have been supported by evidence, and I've not been able to find evidence to support them all. I''ve moved on from the more fanciful world of aliens and spaceships."
No one looked like they were lining up behind her, so when she held up her hand again, the moderator waved her a go-ahead.
"What are some of your more recent theories, Dr. Jackson?" She flipped open the folder and peered down at the contents. "Based on your curriculum vita, you haven't published anything in the last five years, and even before that your record showed a rapid decline in production. You have no current academic institutional affiliation. What do you do, exactly?"
Daniel sat up ramrod straight. "How did you get my vita?"
"Google," she countered. "Do you work with the Air Force, Dr. Jackson?"
"Of course not. The Air Force doesn't have much use for Egyptologists." He glanced to SW for help, but she looked fascinated by the turn things had taken, and Karen was already charging on.
"Do you know Joe Vernon?"
Shit. Oh no. No, no, no. "No?" Daniel furiously texted Jack: Houston, we have a problem.
"Because I ran across an article that referenced a Dr. Jordan from University of Chicago. It mentioned that he was killed in a lab accident while investigating two artifacts brought back from a 1931 Egyptian expedition, one that was famously cursed. And I realized I'd heard that story before. And after I dug around, I realized it was one of Joe's stories."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh," SW leaned over and covered his mic. "Joe wrote these awesome Wormhole X-Treme! fics with original characters. Really detailed. He's got quite a following. Of course, he's a guy so everyone acts like he walks on water, but hey, that's fandom for you... No offense."
"None taken." a BIG problem Jack
"And so I started looking up a few other things from Joe's stories," Karen was saying, "and found some interesting matches to real life events - the disappearance of Adrian Conrad, the destruction of Immunitech Research and the death of one of its employees, Dr. Flemming. Stories of alien creatures in Colorado Springs... But I think the most interesting is that Joe had a character named Daniel Jackson. Well, he did until about a year ago, when he pulled down all his old stories and vanished from fandom."
Jack did you know Joe Vernon was a Wormhole X-Treme! fan? Apparently a big name one? Who wrote fan fiction? With our names? AND PUBLISHED IT ON THE INTERNET?
"Is it true, Dr. Jackson, that the world of Wormhole X-Treme! isn't just loosely inspired by your early work, but is in fact based of events in your actual life? That you did not only find evidence of aliens, but that you in fact are currently involved in a secret government project involving intergalactic travel?"
The room positively buzzed with anticipation as Karen took a deliberate step back from the mic. Daniel had to give her credit - no matter what he said, it was not going to make a damn bit of difference. "Well... That's... well..." He dug the list of talking points out of his pocket and scanned it. Nothing looked helpful. He looked back at Karen, who pinned him with a challenging gaze. Okay Jack, he thought. Don't say you didn't ask for this.
"That's classified," Daniel said firmly.
Oooooooh, went the room, and hands started popping up everywhere. Karen snapped her folder shut and gave him little wave as she faded into a second wave of eager fans rushing to the mic.
Daniel relaxed back into his chair as SW tried to sort out the deluge of new questions, and sent to Jack:
Just remember, this was YOUR bright idea