Diplomacy (23/27)
Title: Diplomacy ( Table of Contents)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I gain nothing of material value from this.
Pairings: Gen.
Chapter1a-- 1b Chapter2 Chapter3 Chapter4 Chapter5a-- 5b Chapter6 Chapter7 Chapter8 Chapter9 Chapter10 Chapter11a-- 11b Chapter12 Chapter13a-- 13b Chapter14a-- 14b Chapter15a-- 15b Chapter16 Chapter17a-- 17b Chapter18 Chapter19 Chapter20 Chapter21 Chapter22 Chapter23 Chapter24 Chapter25 Chapter26 Epilogue
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Medical Considerations
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2 April 1999; SGC, Earth; 0800 hrs
"Ten miles?" Rothman moaned. "I have to march ten miles to pick up a probe?"
"A fancy probe," Jack clarified. "That flies. An expensive, fancy probe that--"
"Didn't look like it was flying too well after it hit that plant."
"Yeah," Jack said, "which is why we're going to go pick it up instead of...flying it back." He made a zooming motion with his hand for emphasis.
Rothman groaned. "Ten miles there and back."
"Problem, Dr. Decathlete?" he asked. "And there are people on that planet, too."
"I'm not the people person around here," Rothman protested sourly. "Why do you think I want to join SG-11?"
"So you can play in the dirt with the other boys and girls," Jack snapped, but it was a valid point. Of the two geeks who occupied the office space of power in the archaeo-linguistics department, Daniel was the one who liked talking to living people, and if he hadn't been off taking the last of his GEDs now, this was the kind of seemingly safe mission they would have given him instead of Rothman. "Well, you'd better stop putting off your damn marksmanship test already. You pass that and finish this mission without screwing up, and you'll get approval from me and the general and everyone else to go join Hawkins' team for good. Thank God."
"Hey, I'm not the one who insisted on coming, Colonel."
"For the record," Jack said, looking at his watch, "neither am I. Captain Carter's going to pick up her UAV, and you're going to talk to the locals, and Teal'c and I are going to make sure the naked, bald, white aliens don't kill us."
Rothman grimaced and opened half of the pockets on his vest before he found the one where his inhaler had been stored, then promptly stuffed it back in. Jack would have bet a substantial sum of money that the man wouldn't be able to find it again in five minutes.
Carter walked in, adjusting the strap on her GDO. "Carter," he called happily. "Finally."
As Jack walked through the event horizon, he heard Rothman asking, "Uh, you did say that there's plant--"
XXXXX
2 April 1999; PJ2-445; 0805 hrs
"--life on this planet? Oh, crap."
There was an impressively explosive sneeze.
Jack also found himself reluctantly impressed that Rothman had learned to talk while walking through a wormhole. He'd had to practice that himself to get the breathing right and not choke when they came out the other end. It tended to ruin the effect when he coughed out the last part of the sentence.
"I'd estimate about three hours to get to the UAV crash site, sir," Carter said, looking up from her handheld sensor. "I'm not picking up the locating signal, but it should be this way."
"Lead the way, Captain," he said, gesturing.
By the time they were an hour into their trek, Rothman had migrated toward Carter's position, where polite but stilted conversation drifted back to Jack and Teal'c. There was a difference between the two scientists: Carter could get pissed off at some piece of equipment when it didn't work, but when she got pissed, she got determined; when Rothman got pissed, he got pissy. Jack would never tell her she got a little pissy sometimes, too, because, unlike Rothman, she might kick his ass, and then she'd still fix the problem anyway.
But there were bald, naked aliens, so Rothman they had. Who knew--maybe they spoke Greek or something. They'd seen weirder things.
It took more like two and a half hours before Jack spotted the whitish piece of plant life lying broken on the ground. Carter trotted off immediately to crouch over the plant.
"Carter," he started, "why don't you start--"
"Sir," she interrupted, not looking up from where she was cutting away a small chunk of the thing, "plant life on Earth accounts for more than eighty percent of our medicinal resources. We should really check it out."
Jack acquiesced with a suppressed sigh and watched her bag samples and bottle sap. By then, Teal'c had found the trail of the UAV--which wasn't hard to see, since it was a large, fancy probe that had been dragged through loose dirt--so they started off after the wayward probe.
Apparently, the plants grew only in certain areas, and as they continued onward, Jack found himself stepping carefully around more and more little white bits on the ground that Carter speculated were sprouts that hadn't yet grown to that massive height of the other plants.
They froze in their tracks when the first alien appeared.
Carter froze, anyhow, and then Teal'c's soft "O'Neill" stopped Jack. Rothman didn't notice until the alien walked up into his face.
"Whoa!" the archaeologist said, stumbling back in surprise, then sneezed.
The alien jumped, looking alarmed, then took off running, emitting an odd, high-pitched, "Eeee!" noise as he (it?) went.
Okay. So.
"We...should probably follow that guy," Jack said, bemused.
"What was that sound he was making?" Carter said. So they were going with 'he.' "If there was any doubt that they're not human, I guess there isn't anymore."
"But humanoid," Rothman added, patting his pockets until he found a tissue. "I wonder what kind of selective pressures would cause evolution to...well, to what we see here. Or maybe they've evolved from one of our ancestors, but along a different path."
Jack suppressed the urge to tell Rothman about the kind of selective pressure that could be exerted on absentminded archaeological consultants and followed Teal'c in the direction that the odd alien had fled. "Threat assessment, anyone?"
"He didn't seem to be hostile so much as he was curious, sir," Carter offered, "and he certainly seemed scared of us."
"Unless he just headed off to find reinforcements," Rothman suggested, "and they'll all come back in a few minutes to kill us."
"I'll take that as a 'no clue,'" Jack muttered.
The alien's trail led them to what looked like a village of sorts, but with structures so simple that even Rothman couldn't find any fancy architectural skills to call it anything but--
"Primitive dwellings," the archaeologist said, then amended, "Maybe. It's hard to judge without knowing more about them. For all we know, they have an entirely different set of values, and whatever criteria we're using to call them primitive may not apply. I mean, look at them--I can't even tell how they reproduce."
Jack turned to him, incredulous. "I don't want to know how they reproduce."
"Children and species propagation play an important role in a society's values. I'm not asking you to watch," Rothman said, and Jack physically stopped himself from cringing.
"Uh, sir?" Carter said as two more aliens, then three, and then many more, emerged from their hut-like dwellings.
The aliens all looked similar, more or less, in that they were all naked, bald, and white. They were all silent, too, now that no one was making any weird noises. They were also beginning to creep toward them, heads turning in curiosity.
"Colonel?" Rothman added nervously.
"Easy," Jack warned, his own hand on his weapon but not threatening, yet.
"They appear to be unarmed," Teal'c observed.
"Rothman, want to try talking?"
"Uh," Rothman said, edging slowly away. He raised both of his open hands, waggling one slightly from side to side in a wave. "Hi?"
The aliens looked at each other, then raised their hands as well, a few hands wiggling in imitation.
What the hell?
"They might not talk at all the same way we do," Carter pointed out, taking a few uncomfortable steps away herself as they continued to close in. She backed away a little more. "There was that noise that first one made, so I think it's safe to assume their vocal apparatus is...uh, different...um...okay, sir, this is getting a little too cozy..." Her hands began to rise as if to defend herself as two of the aliens peered closely at her face, their mouths opening and closing soundlessly.
"Hey, now!" Jack moved toward his teammates, ready to push the aliens away if need be, but his sudden movement was enough to make them scatter. They retreated back into their dwellings, all of them beginning to make the strange, shrieking noise again. Jack caught a glimpse of a few terrified faces before they all disappeared.
"Huh," Rothman said, pushing his glasses up and muffling another sneeze in the sleeve. "Man, these plants must have a lot of pollen."
Carter looked guilty now. "We scared them. They probably weren't going to hurt us at all."
"I am in agreement," Teal'c said, frowning. "However, I am not fond of their manner of greeting."
A bald head peeked out of the entrance of one dwelling, saw them watching, and pulled back with a squeak.
"Dr. Rothman," Jack said, "any sort of...cultural goodies we can learn from these guys?"
"Well, off the bat, I'm inclined to say they don't have much in the way of any technology that we don't have," Rothman said, "and I'm starting to doubt they speak any language we speak. Even gestures--they just seem to imitate our movements without comprehending the underlying significance, but we really don't know anything about them. Maybe with some more time..." He trailed off doubtfully.
Nodding, Jack ordered, "Carter, Teal'c, stick together and see if you can find any signs of the UAV. Rothman, we'll go and take another crack at communicating."
As soon as they stepped inside the dwelling, six startled heads turned toward them at once. "Uh," Rothman said. "Hi."
"Tried that one," Jack reminded him as the aliens didn't move and continued to stare at them.
The archaeologist swallowed and said, "Tek'ma'tek?"
Blinks. Tilted heads. Mouths opening and closing.
And on it went. Jack could feel a headache forming from all the meaningless mutterings and a few aborted attempts at written communication.
"Not only do they not understand any language I know, but they don't even seem to get that I'm trying to communicate," Rothman said eventually in frustration, throwing up a hand for emphasis. The aliens threw up their hands in return. "I've had more success communicating with dogs."
"Do you communicate with dogs often?" Jack asked. He received a scowl in answer. "Getting anywhere?"
"Well, maybe. I mean," Rothman hedged, then admitted, "Um...no."
"Well, that's too bad. Let's move o--"
One alien collapsed.
"Uh," Rothman said.
Jack reached up to his radio. "Carter, get over here. Looks like one of them's...sick or something."
Rothman knelt by the fallen alien, his training, or maybe the habit of seeing things like this, overcoming whatever nervousness he still had. He cautiously lifted a wrist. "Uh-oh," he said, then moved his fingers to the alien's carotid and said, "There's no pulse. I mean, that I can find. But, you know, he's...he's, he's breathing, so maybe his arteries aren't in the same--"
"Colonel!" Carter called from outside.
"In here," Jack said, not looking away from the fallen alien. The other aliens were beginning to bend over him now, just as Carter hurriedly ducked inside the dwelling
"What happened, sir?"
"No clue," Jack answered. Rothman backed away as Carter took his place.
Just as Teal'c entered, all of the aliens standing around lifted their faces, standing perfectly still, and sang.
Well. It was an odd sort of song, and it had nothing on Puccini, as far as Jack was concerned. But it was all harmony and steady and...and something that Jack couldn't really bring himself to think of as yelling or screaming or shrieking. Then they stopped, and nothing happened.
"Music soothes the savage...?" Rothman started to say tentatively, but then stopped before the metaphor became too obviously useless. Anyway, the fallen alien on the ground didn't move, and then another one collapsed next to him.
"Oh, no," Carter said, making an abortive movement to check on the other fallen alien. "I don't even know how to find out what's wrong. Their physiology... For all we know, we could be making them sick. Sir, this could be completely our fault."
Foreign microbes. Fraiser had said something about it after the fiasco with the Touched virus, and now... "You're right. Teal'c, you and I are going back to the Stargate--get a medical team over here. Carter, Rothman...keep...trying to communicate. Ask about the UAV, provide first aid if you can."
"Uh-huh," Rothman said dubiously. "Right."
"Yes, sir," Carter added, but for once, Jack thought Rothman might be closer to the truth.
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2 April 1999; PJ2-445; 1830 hrs
The trip was shorter when it was only Jack and Teal'c, the pace deliberately fast. It was longer, though, with the medical team, Dr. Fraiser's determination not enough to compensate fully for her shorter legs as she pushed along, calling orders behind her, all 'Let's go!' and 'Hurry it up, Corporal!' Teal'c seemed to approve.
Jack would, normally, and hey, power to the tiny woman who could wield scalpels and ran like she meant business even on her first trip off-world, but he'd gone twenty miles that day and was closing in on thirty, which wasn't too extraordinary...but was it getting hot?
He willed his stomach to stay put and his head not to fall off his shoulders and pretended he wasn't having trouble catching up to someone a foot shorter than he was. Maybe he was coming down with something.
When Fraiser finally took one of the aliens with her back to the SGC, Carter thought it would be wrong to just leave the rest of them, without anyone who might be able to provide at least some limited help, so somehow, Jack had ended up sitting against the side of one of their huts, Carter inside, and Teal'c standing guard. Rothman had gone back to help fill in the medical personnel on the little they knew about the planet.
If he'd thought before that getting the aliens to talk was a headache... Jack grimaced and leaned his head back against the wall of the hut.
"God. Goddammit!" Carter's voice growled from inside the house several hours into the whole doing nothing part of the day. Jack felt his eyebrows shoot up at the language, and he stood just as she stomped out of the dwelling, pinching the bridge of her nose but not injured.
"Problem, Captain?"
"No," she snapped. "Not a damn problem in sight. Jesus Christ."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow of his own while Jack felt irritation beginning to boil to the surface. "That's 'not a problem, sir,'" he reminded her, feeling his teeth grit against the headache that had been blooming in his skull all day and was now in full glory.
"Sir," she said, but in that resentful way she might talk to...well, no one, actually. When Carter was mad at a superior officer, she was subtle about it, and dammit, whatever brains she had that Jack didn't, he'd thought she respected him, at least. "What are we going to do? Sir."
"How should I know, Captain?" he retorted.
Carter opened her mouth to say something, then took a deep breath and turned away angrily.
Well, geez. "Hey," Jack said, "I want to figure this out, too, you know."
"Could've fooled me," Carter muttered.
"What was that? I could've sworn you were being insubordinate."
"Oh, come on!" she burst out, whirling again to glare at him. "Their world is dying, Colonel, and you think I'm worried about being insubordinate?"
"Well, what do you expect me to do about it?" he snapped back.
"You could...something!" she said. "That's just so typical. You're always ready with a smart remark, sir, but sitting around when we should be trying to do something..."
Jack didn't let his jaw drop the way it was trying to. "Do something?"
"Where's my...?" She trailed off again, darting back inside the dwelling and returning about four seconds later with her pack, which she dropped unceremoniously onto the ground to start digging through it. Jack would have asked what the hell she though she could measure that she hadn't done in the hours they'd been here already, except that he found he didn't really care.
"Captain Carter," Teal'c said, half reprimand and half alarm. Carter glared at him, too, but pulled out a multimeter, looking around as if trying to find something for which she could measure the voltage, then put it back, searching for something else.
"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Carter!" Jack barked. "You want a smart remark? How about, you can't fix everything with your mile-high IQ or your damned PhD! They're getting sick, and our sticking around here isn't going to help anything!"
"God, Colonel, you know, you can be really--!" she started, surging up with her fists clenched. And then she swayed, and only Teal'c's quick reflexes stopped her from hitting the ground.
Annoyance fled, chased by worry. "Carter? You okay?"
"Yeah," she said, but not very convincingly, and while she was standing on her own, she was pale and took her time shrugging Teal'c off. "I just...just stood up too fast."
On the tip of Jack's tongue, there was a sarcastic reply waiting, something about the difference between jumping to attention and jumping down his throat, but she grimaced, massaging her temple with one hand as she pulled away from Teal'c. A suspicion crept in, and he asked, "Headache?"
"Uh, yes, sir," she admitted.
Dismay settled into Jack's gut. "Me, too," he said. "How long?"
Startled eyes met his. "Around when we got to this...uh, village. It's been getting worse."
Teal'c looked over both of them. "I remain unaffected."
"Sir, you don't think we're...?"
"Getting whatever they've got?" Jack finished with an uneasy look toward the sick aliens, feeling a little like he wanted to take a dive toward the ground, too. "Maybe."
"So it's not something we brought to the planet," Carter said.
"Oh, good," he snapped as his head throbbed. "That'll be comforting when everyone here's dead, and Rothman sneezes on someone back on Earth, so we can kill two planets at once!"
"Colonel!"
"O'Neill," Teal'c growled in warning.
An alien--one of the ones who were still upright--walked close into Jack's face, his eyes opened wide in his pale face and a hand waving in the air.
"Um," Carter said.
"I...think we should probably head back, get checked out," Jack said.
"I will remain," Teal'c said.
Carter swallowed hard and nodded wordlessly. Jack squinted into the distance, in the direction the Stargate lay, and heard a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Robert Rothman protesting that it was ten whole miles, are you kidding me?
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2 April 1999; SGC, Earth; 2145 hrs
Jack and Carter were both declared 'fine' once they arrived back on base, besides a case of severe embarrassment. Whatever they'd had was gone, and Carter escaped to her lab, red-faced and muttering something about analyzing readings.
The alien, on the other hand, was dying.
Fraiser was making noises about making him comfortable, as much as they could without knowing what made their species comfortable; Carter was alternating between visiting the alien and measuring everything she could measure, wherever Jack wasn't; and Rothman had gone back to his office, where Daniel had apparently returned and had spent the last few hours acquainting himself with the planet, the mission, and the aliens via the short UAV video feed and whatever else he could wheedle out of people.
Jack had barely reached Rothman and Daniel's office when raised voices reached his ears.
"...nothing on that tape, Robert!" Daniel was insisting as Jack looked inside. "I don't even remember how many times I've watched it by now. We're wasting time!"
Rothman rolled his eyes. "I'm just going to take a look, in case you missed something."
"Oh, in case I missed something," Daniel said, unfolding his arms and slashing at the air with one hand while the other made a violent movement that knocked a folder off his desk. "I've had this tape here for hours, and you think I...I messed up or...or...or--"
"Hey, not like it's never happened before!" Rothman snapped. "You're not perfect, I'm just--"
"I didn't say I was perfect! You're always happy to remind me if I forget."
"What the heck is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't have a degree," Daniel said, his voice rising. "I wasn't born here. I--I, I don't know, I don't speak a hundred languages like I could if I left the program and went to--"
"I did not say that," Rothman said, stepping in close to scowl more effectively, only to step back when the difference in their heights ruined the effect. "Maybe you should try to remember once in a while who's in charge here! Things can't always go the way we want--"
"The way we want?" Daniel repeated, almost shouting now. "A, a...a planet, Robert, yi shay, an entire planet!"
"That's not even a sentence," Rothman said snidely. "There's no predicate, for one--"
"Headache?" Jack interrupted loudly. Both whirled on him.
"No," Daniel lied mulishly, leaning shakily against his desk and swallowing hard.
"Yes," Rothman said.
"A little," Daniel amended.
"Yeah," Jack said, as casually as he could while considering what it meant that this disease or whatever it was could cause people on base--even people who hadn't ever stepped foot on PJ2-445--to start being affected. "That's what I thought. You might have whatever Carter and I got back on that planet. Possibly even what those aliens on the planet have. Infirmary, both of you." When they hesitated, he repeated more firmly, "Now!"
Daniel winced and Rothman paled a little, but both made it out of the office without falling on their faces. Jack was taking that as a good sign.
...x...
"I can't find anything wrong with either of you," Fraiser said once Rothman and Daniel were slouching together on a gurney.
"Actually, I feel fine, now," Rothman said.
"So do I," Daniel added, fidgeting and already starting to slide off the gurney.
"And Carter and I got better as soon as we got off the planet," Jack said. "So, what, there's a disease that's confined to PJ2-445 and...your office?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Rothman. "You didn't bring anything back from there, did you?"
"No, Colonel, we've been going over the UAV data and rehashing the mission for hours--"
"Wait, wait, wait," Daniel said, standing and pushing away from the gurney. "That UAV video is the one thing in common with the planet."
Rothman nodded. "Could there be something in the video that...?" He made a vague gesture with his hand. "You know, something we couldn't see, but it, uh..."
"Made everyone sick?" Jack finished, glancing at Fraiser. She shrugged helplessly. "Let's take a look, then. Someone page Captain Carter up to Rothman's office. And," he added, raising his voice as the archaeologist and his tagalong began to follow him out the door, "no insults this time."
XXXXX
3 April 1999; SGC, Earth; 0300 hrs
The end was a little anticlimactic. There was a sound the aliens needed to survive, and, surprise, they'd screwed it up by flying a UAV into the plant that made the sound. The aliens got better, the plants got happier, Rothman grumbled, Carter added a 'sir' to every sentence on the way back to the 'gate, and Jack swore never to let her send a UAV through the 'gate again.
He didn't actually think he'd be able to prevent that, but if one got lost, he was not going to be one who took a team to try to find it. All they'd gotten out of this trip was a lost, expensive, flying probe and the knowledge that Carter apparently had as much of a social life as he did, if she was using plants as her conversational partners. Teal'c simply looked amused by all of them. Daniel had watched them come back through the 'gate in one piece, waved sleepily, and gone off in the direction of his room.
The post-mission exam was unusually awkward. All of them were fine--ironically, Teal'c was in the worst shape, for once, and only because his eardrums were sensitive to a slightly larger range of frequencies than normal humans', and even he was basically fine aside from mild, temporary tinnitus.
"Carter," Jack said as they yawned their way through exams, "so when we were on the planet--"
"Colonel, I'm...I'm sorry about my attitude," she interrupted, then widened her eyes when she realized she'd cut him off, and repeated. "Sorry, sir."
"No, it's..." he rubbed the back of his neck and wished Teal'c would stop smirking at them. "Never mind. We were both under the influence of alien..."
"Music," Teal'c filled in.
Jack scowled. Somehow, something like 'alien technology' would have sounded more dignified. "Yeah," he said.
"Yes, sir," she said. "Uh, what were you saying, then?"
He opened his mouth to answer--to ask what she'd been about to say about him before she'd halfway passed out on the planet--then closed it, because he had a feeling she wouldn't be able to say it comfortably to a superior officer, and because he had a feeling he didn't really want to know. If he could insult her IQ, she could insult his right back, and he tried to avoid that sort of thing around geniuses. "Never mind."
Teal'c was looking far too smug about being the only one who hadn't made a fool of himself in some way or another. Jack made a face at him and received an eyebrow in return.
"All right, people," General Hammond said as he entered the infirmary. "I trust everything went as expected?"
"Yes, sir," Jack answered. "They were getting sick because they weren't listening to the right music, and we were getting sick because we were listening to it."
Carter gave him a sideway glace but nodded. "The inhabitants seemed to be in some kind of symbiotic relationship with the plants on that planet. I did record a short segment of their...uh--"
"Singing," Teal'c supplied. Jack glared at him again. He was practically smiling.
"Right. I'm sure that, upon analysis, we'll be able to find two different frequencies, one emitted by the plants and the other by the inhabitants. That frequency is necessary for their survival."
"And the samples you brought back?" the general asked. "Or observations of the plants?"
"For now, we're keeping some samples frozen in storage," she said. "Preliminary studies haven't identified anything we can use in terms of medicinal compounds. In any case, I'm reluctant to try collecting more samples, since they're so crucial to the inhabitants' lives."
"Also, I'm not sure we'll ever be able to establish any really meaningful sort of communication with them," Rothman added. "Their lifestyles are so different from ours that we'd probably have a hard time gaining enough knowledge or material benefit to warrant another expedition, unless it's for some really long-term research on those people or the plants."
"Which would lead to a world of headache for any researchers," Jack said. "Literally."
"I am in agreement," Teal'c said as Carter nodded.
"Fine," the general said. "Can I assume the UAV..."
"It could be anywhere on that planet by now, sir," Jack said. "They might have carried it somewhere, because we couldn't find any more tracks from dragging."
With a sigh, Hammond nodded. "Then all of you grab a shower and get some sleep. Dr. Fraiser will be thinking about revising precautions to take off-world, and I'll meet with her tomorrow to discuss that."
XXXXX
5 April 1999; SGC, Earth; 1000 hrs
The infirmary was mostly empty when Daniel entered. "Janet?" he called, walking toward her office. "Are you here?"
"Yes, right here," Janet said, stepping out. "I'm sorry; I forgot the time."
"If there's a better time... Jack just said I should--"
"First aid lessons, that's right," she said with a nod. "Why don't you step into my office. After today, I'll give you a schedule for when someone--probably one of the nurses or medics--is conducting a session on the techniques. You'll have to be certified in certain areas if you want to join a team fulltime someday." She paused as she pulled a chair out for him and gestured for him to sit. "I'm assuming that's still what you're aiming for?"
"Yes," Daniel said, taking a seat. "It's a little confusing now, because Robert Rothman and I were supposed to be attached to SG-1 and -2 for training, and now SG-2 is specialized for military support and Robert's getting assigned to SG-11, and I've been attached to a lot of other teams, so...I'm not sure how it's going to work. But hopefully, yes, eventually."
"Well, if Colonel O'Neill told you to get first aid training, I'm sure he means for that to happen, too, at some point. So, Daniel," she said, as she bent slightly to pull out a standard first aid kit, "I haven't talked to you in a while. How have you been? You just took your high school equivalence test, didn't you?" He nodded, and she added, "Well, how did you do?"
Daniel grimaced. "Okay, I think, but I want to wait a couple of weeks and see my social studies score before I say for certain."
"Really," she said, sounding amused. "Social studies? That's your department."
"It's the only part that's really specific to this country or this planet," he explained. "I think I did well enough to pass, but that's about all I can say."
"Well, I'm sure you did fine," she assured him with a smile as she sat down behind her desk. "Actually, I had an ulterior motive for wanting to do this part with you myself. Before we start, I wanted to run something by you. I was just in a meeting with the general about the medical risks of off-world travel. We've had people here infected by alien diseases, and it's possible that we could be introducing diseases to other planets, too."
Like Europeans bringing diseases to the 'New World,' Daniel thought, and then decided it would be a few weeks before he even touched a US history book again. "But is there a way to prevent that? Do all missions MOPP 4 and decontaminate before every trip through the Stargate?"
"There are planets we don't explore because their conditions are so dangerous to us," she said. "It's easily possible that the reverse is true. Anything we bring through the 'gate--synthetic or natural materials, foods, even our bodies--could be dangerous, or even toxic, if the locals' physiology is different enough, or if we affect the wildlife. It all depends on how alien they are."
"Uh...wow," he said, blinking. "But, I mean, that's...even...you mean, anything?"
Janet smiled. "It's not quite that bad. Most of the planets we visit were recorded by the Goa'uld, which means a lot of them are or were populated by humans."
"But not all," Daniel said, thinking of singing aliens who became sick when they didn't have plants that sang back to them.
"No, not all. For those, however, we have no way of knowing how to predict what will happen when faced with someone about whom we understand so little. We're assuming that humans who have similar physiologies to ours are likely susceptible so similar families of pathogens."
"Is that a reasonable assumption?" he asked doubtfully.
"It's not perfect, but I think it's the best we can do with our current knowledge," Janet said. "But we would like to increase our understanding of how microbes evolve or are affected by off-world conditions. One way to start is to collect information and biological samples for analysis from people on different planets, and the general suggested that I could talk with you about that."
- "You want me to ask the people of Abydos," Daniel summarized.
"Yes," she said. "There are some other planets we can ask, too, but Abydos would be a place to start, since we have you, and we know its history very well, in relation to Earth's history."
"All they would have to do is, what...let someone draw blood?" he asked. "Take samples? Would this be a condition of further aid?"
"It's not a condition," she said immediately. "It would be purely for any person who agrees to participate, and we'd only need a small amount of blood or other samples from each person--like what we do for check-ups here. We'd complete a quick medical examination on those participants to be able to match any anomalies in the samples to health issues."
"So you're only testing for the presence of pathogens," he clarified.
"Primarily, yes, pathogens or antibodies to them. I would like to run some other tests, like genetic screens, but only for the purpose of determining whether there are significant deviations from what we usually see. If you're worried about issues of legality or privacy, we can set it up so that all experimenters are blinded concerning which samples go with which person--you can be in control of all records if you'd like, or I can keep track of it myself."
"Mm-hm," Daniel said absently, still thinking. "What if you found anomalies? Ones that might indicate sickness, I mean. Would you be able to treat them?"
"I can't make promises about something I don't know," Janet said. "But we would do what we could. That being said, it's possible that what we learn from studies of Abydonian diseases could be used for medical aid better tailored to adapted to the Abydons' needs."
"Really?" Daniel said, straightening. "You could do that?"
"I can't make any promises," she repeated. "But it's a possibility. The team overseeing the mining there have noticed that some Abydons seem to exhibit symptoms of diseases that we've essentially eradicated here. Polio, for one, you know what that is?"
"I've heard of it, yes." He didn't know which disease that was, exactly, outside of mentions from history books, but he'd noticed soon after arriving on Earth that the people here seemed to sicken less, or, at least, survived sicknesses better. It was hard not to dwell on the fact that Tau'ri who were very old by Abydonian standards didn't consider their own deaths to be near--didn't even think about it, usually, until many years later. What if they could change that for the Abydons some day? "I understand what you're saying."
Janet nodded. "Do you think it would be possible? There's a lot about medicine to be both learned and shared between our planets. I've always wondered about naquadah, for example--remember how Cassie was immune to the Hanka plague? Granted, it might have been engineered specifically that way, but..."
Daniel nodded, leaning forward. "Yes, yes, there are older people in Nagada who thought there was something...I don't know, mystical about the naquadah mines, that it protected from disease. I assumed it was false propaganda to encourage them to work." He hesitated, then added, "The...life expectancy in Nagada is not as...as high as it is on Earth. Here, anyway. But it's higher than what archaeologists estimate for Ancient Egyptians, who were at a similar technological level and lived in somewhat similar conditions. Maybe there's some truth to the legends."
A gleam of interest appeared in Janet's eyes. "Well, this would expand our sample size quite a bit, if we want to test any hypothesis about naquadah," she said. "It wouldn't hurt to ask, then?"
"No, asking won't be a problem, not in Nagada," Daniel confirmed. "Uh, you should be careful on other planets, though; some cultures have taboos on taking another's blood." Blood drawing and storage and analysis wasn't done on Abydos, but they did know the importance of blood to health, and he didn't think it would be specifically prohibited.
"We'll definitely keep that in mind," she said. "If nothing else, if we sample enough planets, we could discover new organisms and medical practices, or be able to better predict the effect of environment and lifestyle on human health and genetics."
"Of course," he said. "When will this happen?"
"We just need final approval from the general's superiors. I don't foresee any opposition, considering the scientific benefits alone, not to mention the possible benefits for others or improvements on safety procedures in 'gate travel. After that, you and I would go with a team to Abydos. Does that sound okay?"
"Yes," he said. "Definitely. Thank you, Janet."
"It's not purely altruistic," she reminded him, "so thank you." She pulled the first aid kit between them. "Now. Back to our business--emergency first aid. I'm just going to make sure you know what all of this is and know basic concepts and anatomical terms before you try to learn techniques. All right?"
They'd just finished going through the kit, and Janet was giving him a list of places to find references if he needed it, when an unscheduled off-world activation made them both freeze and look up, waiting to see if the speakers would tell them more.
When the wormhole was announced disengaged with no further disturbance, Janet relaxed, laughing a little. "It's almost Pavlovian by now, isn't it?"
Daniel smiled politely in response and waited until she wasn't looking to pull a pen from his pocket and write a note on his hand to look up what 'Pavlovian' meant when he had a chance.
"From here," she said, "I'm going to ask you to go to one of Corporal Thomson's sessions for the essential techniques. It's recommended to learn more but not required unless you're assigned to a team as the designated field medic. That's unlikely--a lot of the personnel here are certified combat medics--but it never hurts to have an extra skill set. All right?"
"All right," he agreed, mentally reviewing SG teams and identifying the medic on each before remembering that, if he made a team, it would be for linguistic reasons. Not that he wouldn't learn more. Just in case, Jack and Ferretti were always telling him, and he knew as well as anyone not to expect missions to go according to plan.
From outside, Jack's voice called, "Doc! Dr. Fraiser?"
Janet looked at Daniel, then said, "I guess we're done for now, then."
"Sure," he said, standing quickly as she repacked the kit. "Thank you. Um...let me know about Abydos?"
"Of course."
When he stepped out of Janet's office, Jack, General Hammond, and Sam were all there, along with a very pale, very young boy, guided by Jack's hand on his shoulder.
"Ah, Daniel..." Jack started, gesturing with a sharp eye-roll toward the door.
"I was just leaving," Daniel assured him, with a curious glance at the little boy. The boy looked up at Jack, then back down when Jack smiled reassuringly. Daniel raised his eyebrows but nodded to them and left.
"Mother says to trust you, Colonel O'Neill," the little boy's voice said. Daniel looked back in surprise, but the door closed, cutting off further sound. No one had been holding a weapon, though, and Teal'c hadn't even been around, so he shrugged and headed for the library.
XXXXX
7 April 1999; SGC, Earth; 1300 hrs
"Genetic engineering?" Robert repeated, not looking up from his work. "Why do you ask?"
Daniel shrugged. "You know that boy who came through the Stargate two days ago with SG-1? I've heard he was...created. By genetic engineering. How does that work?"
"Uh, you're asking the wrong person," Robert said. "But I'm pretty sure building a whole person is beyond what we're capable of here on Earth, unless it's just... What exactly do you mean, 'created?'"
"I don't know; it's just rumor, and even SG-1 won't tell me what's going on. But I hear whoever did it wasn't very good at it either. His organs were made wrong or something."
"Hm. Did they try the sarcophagus?" Robert said.
"Yesterday," Daniel confirmed. "He got a little better, but his organs healed wrong--the same wrong as they were to start with."
"Makes sense. No reason to think the sarcophagus could return him to a healthy state that he's never been in before."
"But then they called the Tok'ra, and the Stargate's been opening and closing since last night."
Daniel watched for a reaction to see if he was drawing the right conclusion from that, but Robert only made a face at his computer screen. "You think they want to heal him by giving him a symbiote." His expression turned thoughtful, and he said, "Well, it would be a way of continual healing, without being driven crazy."
"That's what I thought at first," Daniel said, "but then, why would they put the base on alert?"
"Really?" Robert said, finally looking up. "We're on alert?"
Daniel raised his eyebrows. "Uh, yes? Low level, but they're not letting noncombatants off at the lower two floors and...and the security teams, and...you didn't know?"
"Huh. I didn't notice."
"Well, what do you think is going on? You think he's a Goa'uld, the boy?"
"Uh...no," Robert said. "Captain Carter or Teal'c would know right away if they were standing next to a Goa'uld."
True, Daniel thought, then suggested, "Maybe they do know, and he's Tok'ra, but the symbiote was damaged, so they needed the sarcophagus, and then they contacted the Tok'ra once he was healed."
"What about that organ malfunction thing, then?" Robert pointed out.
"Well, it was just rumor when I heard it. It could be wrong."
"Still, you said he was young, right? Old enough that a Tok'ra would want him as a host?"
Daniel shuddered, imagining being implanted at what looked like six years of age. "Maybe not. You're right. Still, it must be something big--I caught a glimpse of General Carter, so the Tok'ra are really interested. And all of SG-1 stayed here to work through the night. I don't mean loitering in Sam's lab or...or training or something. They were in briefings and...well, I don't know, really, but it seemed important."
"Did they go off-world?" Robert said, drumming his fingers against his desk.
"Maybe, I have no idea. I told you, they're not letting us go down to the lower levels."
The lights went out.
Daniel froze, and Robert's drumming stopped. "What..." he started.
"Was that you?" Robert's voice said.
"No," Daniel said, standing and starting to fumble at his desk, just as the lights flickered and returned.
Robert was halfway to his feet, and as Daniel looked around, he said, "What was that? The lights aren't supposed to do that, are they?"
"I don't know," Daniel said. "Maybe they did it on purpose."
"We're on alert, you said?" Robert said nervously.
Daniel walked to the door and poked his head out to look around. The SFs were still there, one of them lowering his hand from his radio, but they looked more tense than usual. Was that only his imagination? "Excuse me," Daniel said, looking down the hall and almost expecting something terrible to come barreling toward him. "Do you know if...?"
"We've been advised that all levels below the twenty-first have been sealed off, Mr. Jackson," the airman told him.
"That's where the infirmary is," Robert said, stepping out behind Daniel.
"Yes, sir."
"So...it's sealed off, and we're just sitting here?" Robert said. "What's going on? Why wasn't there a...a...an announcement or something?""
"That's all we've been told, Dr. Rothman," the airman said patiently.
"But everything above sublevel twenty-one is still fine?" Daniel clarified.
"That's correct."
Robert looked at Daniel. "Okay," he said, shrugging. "I wanted to look at something in the lab, anyway. Want to come?"
Daniel considered, then locked the office behind them. "Okay."
XXXXX
6 April 1999; SGC, Earth; 1500 hrs
They were in the lab, Robert examining some tooth marks on a fossil and Daniel describing a language for a report, when they heard, "So."
Both looked up briefly. "Oh, hi, Jack."
Jack's hands were securely in his pockets as he wandered around, peering at the artifacts and devices lining the benches. "Well, you'll be happy to know the Reetou are gone," he said.
Daniel looked up again. "The what?"
"Reetou," Jack repeated. "The invisible aliens who tried to destroy all of Earth just now."
"Is that what was happening?" Robert asked distractedly.
Jack's face went through several expressions before settling on disbelief. "That's it? There was a lockdown. There was...shooting, and Tok'ra rip-offs of Goa'uld toys. We were thinking of setting the self-destruct."
Now Robert looked up, too, alarmed. "You set the self-destruct?"
"No," Jack said slowly. "Because we killed the Reetou."
"Oh. Well, good."
Daniel shrugged apologetically at Jack as Robert bent over the fossil again. "We'll cower in the office next time," he said seriously. Jack rolled his eyes. "So, shooting. Was anyone, uh...?"
"Brecker and Plunkett were hurt, but they were sent down to the sarcophagus--they'll be okay," Jack said. "We lost Rothman, though. His advance directive says no sarcophagus."
Daniel looked at Robert, who seemed very much there, then back. "You...you did."
"He means the Marine," Robert said, looking up, an odd expression on his face. "Richard Rothman. They mix up our paychecks all the time. Mixed up."
"Yeah," Jack said, dropping his eyes for a moment. "No other fatalities. Earth is safe."
"That's..." ...good? For Earth, obviously, but not for the man who'd given his life for it. Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose and tried, "Uh, so...what is 'Reetou?' Is that what the...wait, when you say you killed the Reetou, you don't mean... There was a little boy--was he a Reetou?"
"Nope," Jack said, taking his hands out of his pockets to pick up one of Daniel's notebooks, holding it up and squinting at it as if he couldn't understand the perfectly English writing on it. "He was sent here to warn us about the Reetou. One of them was his mom. But she was one of the good guys."
Daniel blinked. "Okay," he said. "Um. I think I'll have to read the report. He's fine, then, the boy?" Jack squinted harder at the notebook, tilting it at a more extreme angle, and Daniel knew something was wrong. "He's not, is he?" Daniel guessed, pushing away from the lab bench.
Jack shrugged, dropping the notes back on the bench. "He'll be okay. He's going to stay with Carter's dad and get...help."
The Tok'ra. "I see," Daniel said, not seeing at all, except that Jack would never give up a child to a race of Goa'ulds, no matter how much they hated the System Lords, unless there was no other choice. Maybe he was going to be implanted, then, and be healed with the help of a symbiote, which was nice, but a little horrifying, as well. "So... But then, he'll live?"
"Yeah. He'll live," Jack agreed.
Robert took a glance between the two of them, then buried himself firmly in looking at the fossilized bone again.
Clearing his throat, Daniel said, "Uh...so, Sam's dad has left? I wish I'd gotten a chance to meet him while he was here."
"Reetou," Jack reminded him. "Shooting."
"Right."
"And he had to take Charlie back."
Daniel bit his lip and looked carefully at him. "Uh, Jack...?"
"The kid you saw in the infirmary," Jack explained, casual as ever but not looking at him. "He picked a name for himself. Called himself Charlie." Daniel felt himself wince.
"Oh," he said. "I'm, uh..."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Jack."
"Don't be. He'll live," Jack said shortly, and Daniel wondered whether the bitterness there was simply because the boy had picked Charlie's name, or because Charlie was living while Jack's Charlie hadn't, or because Charlie was going to leave and be implanted with a symbiote.
"Do you..." Daniel coughed nervously. "I mean, do you, uh...want to talk about--"
"I was going to get a cup of coffee in the commissary," Jack interrupted, picking up an artifact and then putting it back down without really looking at it.
Daniel nodded slowly. "I missed lunch," he offered. "You, uh... Do you...?"
"Wanna...?" Jack jabbed a thumb in the direction of the door.
"Sure." Daniel glanced back, but Robert was writing something. A closer look told him that Richard Rothman's name was being added to the list they kept together in unspoken remembrance. They had never mentioned it to each other, though both of their handwritings were represented, and Robert showed no inclination to want to mention it, so Daniel pulled off his glasses and followed Jack out.
"Not that way," Jack said, steering him toward another elevator shaft. "Carter blew that one up."
"Of course she did," Daniel said, deciding he really had to find out what had happened.
"You missed lunch?" Jack said conversationally.
"Yes," Daniel said. "I don't know if you heard, but there was a lockdown. We were cowering."
Jack snorted and pushed him onward toward the elevator, and if his hand on Daniel's back was a little gentler than usual, neither of them commented on it.
Next chapter: " Diplomacy"