Only Misplaced - Part 2
Teal'c watched Daniel Jackson struggle with the clips that held his backpack to his vest. The man had to twist and turn to get them undone. But he persisted and did not ask for assistance, so Teal'c kept his distance and only watched. His instructions from O'Neill had been clear even if the words themselves, if taken apart, made little sense. "I know I said Daniel's something like a local guide, but he's not like that kind of guide you're thinking about-got that?"
That had been after the team's initial training, and Teal'c had thought he had understood the exercise, but he had not. He had said nothing in reply, and O'Neill had let out a breath and added, "Oh, hell, he just knows stuff and he's with us, so from now on, we all look after him. Got it?"
That much he...got.
He still had not got Daniel Jackson.
Pack off, Daniel Jackson pulled open the top flap and unzipped it and started to search for something. He finally pulled out a book and a writing instrument Teal'c had been told was called a pen. Cross-legged on the ground, leaning a little against his pack, Daniel Jackson began to write. His focus moved in rapid glances from their surroundings to his words, with pauses to bite the end of his writing instrument, which left Teal'c shifting on his feet and his cheek twitching in a spasm he could not suppress.
Priests kept the tools to create words in the most sacred of temples-they did not chew on the ends of them.
Putting his attention back on their surroundings, Teal'c kept watch. But there was nothing to observe. No predators. No people. Nothing to guard against. He glanced back at Daniel Jackson and wondered at the words being formed, and the habit rose, automatic, to turn away, to hide his stare, as he had been taught as a boy.
Only gods had the power to create a record of their deeds. Gods made the spells to ensure success, and their priests inscribed them for eternity in gold. Those priests read the prayers taught by the gods and they carried out the gods' decrees. Overall, Teal'c had no love for their kind-not for false gods or priests-and his only faith now was that he could profane all they had taught him.
A very few priests had tried to act as buffers for their people, standing between the fickle will of the gods and the acts to appease them. But he had known too many who hid behind the power of the temple. Or who were too eager to wield whatever power was granted them with the excuse of pleasing the gods. Their kind would not fight in an honorable battle-but they would take the life of a warrior held on his knees before them. And he had killed his share of them-hassacs who had served Ra and Heru'ur and who had cowered as they begged.
Their words had changed nothing.
No spell could aid a poor strategy. Prayers did not alter a god's intent. And mercy was not granted to those who pleaded. He had seen the truth in that. But now he was also seeing the lie.
These Tau'ri used words. They scattered them like pretty river stones and slashed with them like sharp blades-they fought with their words and bickered with each other and used words to enlist support and to sway minds. Words held play and meaning, and with them they had built a world to rival the Goa'uld, and they used words to pass to their children both their wisdom and their foolishness. Yet, for all that, they seemed to think nothing of the rite to record their thoughts.
Except for this one.
The written word held great value for this one. Teal'c had seen that already in what little he had seen of this man. But what he had witnessed so far did not help him understand the value in having Daniel Jackson with them now.
"Of what do you write, Daniel Jackson?"
"Uh, oh, well, I just thought someone should know what happened to us, in case..."
He left off speaking to wave a rolling gesture with soft, narrow hands that did not look heavy or strong enough to strike a fatal blow-or even a glancing one that would leave much hurt behind. Teal'c understood his meaning, however. And found that he agreed. "This is a defensive measure."
Eyes wide, and the blue in those eyes sharpened by the widening black centers, Daniel Jackson looked up from his book. "And that means...?"
"Is this not similar to your iris? A protection for this world? And do you not have more than a metal shield over your Stargate? Do you not have weapons and plans for how to deal with an enemy who might breach that shield?"
Straightening where he sat, Daniel glanced around. He looked back at Teal'c and his eyebrows lifted very high over the round glasses. Teal'c had never seen anyone who needed to wear something on his face to correct his vision and it impressed him that Daniel Jackson could survive with such a physical weakness. It argued for a strong will. Or for a stupid people who would foster frailty in their midst.
Eyebrows flattening, Daniel Jackson asked, "This isn't Jack's idea of more training, is it?"
Since that was a stupid question, Teal'c did not answer, but waited.
The Tau'ri did more than use their words-they squandered them like children who had never known the need to keep one's tongue to keep one's life. Daniel Jackson did not disappoint Teal'c in his expectations now.
When Teal'c made no answer, Daniel Jackson frowned, put his writing instrument into his open book and settled with his elbows resting on bent knees. "I mean, it'd be just like Jack to think we need a training mission, along with everything else, and I sort of get the idea for that, but how anyone thinks we can train for-" Breaking off, he waved a hand again at the surrounding trees, this time the gesture a quick, curt slash. He shifted his stare back to Teal’c. "Did you expect this? Fake trees? A fake world? Have you even seen anything like this before?"
"No."
"And how many planets have you been to?"
"More than I have counted."
"Exactly my point!"
"Daniel Jackson, this is not training. But did O'Neill not say training is less about surrounding conditions and more about conditioning a response so that we know how each of us will each react in any circumstance?"
The man made a dismissive sound-a breath blown out with a cut-off laugh. He lifted both his hands, palms spread in eloquent exasperation. "But we already know that."
"I do not know."
"Oh, come on. None of us are that hard to figure out. You know Jack is always going to want to shoot anyone-hell, anything-that so much as looks a threat our way. Sam...captain...doctor...Carter, she might be curious, but she's going to follow Jack's lead. She has to. There's a reason her military title comes first. And you will, too. You said as much-you gave you allegiance to the general, and to Jack."
"And you, Daniel Jackson? You will talk?"
A sudden grin flashed and vanished. "Yeah-kinda like I'm doing now, I guess. See-you do know."
"O'Neill's point remains valid. I do not know how you will fight."
"Oh, I think you do." Straightening, Daniel Jackson rubbed his shoulder and winced. "As in badly."
"As in you are bad?"
"What?"
"It is an expression O'Neill said is of great value."
"Lemme guess-bad ass?"
"To be bad is to be very good."
"Of course Jack would be teaching you stuff like that. I wouldn't-well, we have a lot of phrases where social context is important. And while idiomatic language can help establish you as a member of a group, its use in the wrong context can lead to the opposite conclusion. In fact, you can trace this kind of contextual relevance back to the most ancient languages, in which...which doesn't really matters to you very much, does it?"
Daniel Jackson's voice had lifted and quickened and he gave another smile-or he lifted his mouth, but the expression reached no other part of his face. Teal'c watched him for a moment, and he was not taken in by the misdirection. Daniel Jackson's expressions often seemed to give away too much, but Teal'c had noted already that those fleeting fast shifts of mood often seemed more about hiding than revealing.
Teal’c gave a small nod, for he, too, recognized the need here. "Your language then is not unlike Goa'uld, in which a word may have many meanings, depending upon both inflection and how it is used in conjunction with other words."
"Inflection? Really? Interesting. I wonder if that indicates a Chinese influence at one point? Maybe from Xiang or even Hakka?"
"Of that, I do not know."
"Oh, I wasn't-that was rhetorical. It's a question where you're not really looking for an answer."
"Then why do you ask?"
"Ah-well, that actually is a good question."
"Is this similar to when O'Neill asked during training if you were incapable of reacting with greater speed than a three-toed nocturnal mammal known for its lethargy?"
"Sloth?" With a nod, then a lift of his shoulders and a shake of his head, Daniel Jackson drew out slow words, "Yeah...that's an example, yes."
"Then I understand."
Daniel Jackson again gave his smile-the brief, tight one that seemed to offer little amusement and even less threat. He glanced down at his book again and took up his writing instrument.
Teal'c looked away.
This was another thing he did not understand-this need for Daniel Jackson to act as if he had not, with O'Neill, killed a god. Or perhaps it was no pretense. He had heard the story of Ra's death from O'Neill, but perhaps O'Neill gave more credit than was due to this scholar. If that was the case, how wise was it of O'Neill to bring Daniel Jackson with them through the Stargate? As a guide he made sense, but as a valued member of a fighting unit?
But perhaps O'Neill had intended the training to discourage Daniel Jackson so he would ask to remain behind. That, however, did not fit with O'Neill's orders that they all 'look after' Daniel Jackson because he knew 'stuff.' This contradiction required a resolution.
He had time now to peruse an answer, so he began to turn over possibilities, reasons why O'Neill would want this man kept close. Nothing, however, made sufficient sense. And then awareness bushed the back of his neck and he glanced over and found intense blue eyes focused upon him, the stare very direct, and he thought of his childhood belief-long ago lost-that the gods, and those blessed by the gods, could see into a man's heart and mind.
A hesitant smile lifted, sweeping away those thoughts. The expression fell and Daniel Jackson said, his voice very soft and very certain, "I think you actually know us a lot better than you think you do."
"I do not."
"Well, on Chulak, Jack barely said a half dozen words. But you believed him. You turned your back on everything because of what he said. So what-you did that without really knowing something about him? You even said others had said the same thing to you. But it wasn't their words you acted on. So something more than just Jack's words had to sway you."
Frowning, Teal'c stared at the other man. "Words have value, Daniel Jackson. You know this."
"I didn't say otherwise-but in this case there is something more, isn't there?"
Teal'c hesitated and kept his council, but Daniel Jackson kept his stare fixed-If Teal'c chose not to answer, this would be a challenge given and given back. And there would be little chance for anything else between them after such an exchange.
His gaze dropping, Teal'c gave a small nod. "It was indeed not his words alone."
"So...there was something inherent in Jack that made you believe in him? Something you knew on a very deep level?"
Shifting his grip on his staff, Teal'c looked away. He glanced back and could see no way to avoid yet another answer-not with Daniel Jackson leaning forward like this, that stare fixed on him until it almost burned. And Teal'c felt the seductive tug of the man's interest.
He had been questioned much of late. But the questions had focused on the Goa'uld. Others had wanted only to know how their enemy might be fought. That was not what Daniel Jackson wanted.
Teal'c shifted his grip on his staff weapon. He was Jaffa. He had once been First Prime to Apophis, who was not just a Goa'uld, but a System Lord. He needed no one's understanding and he craved no one's hearing of his thoughts. And, yet, he did not look away. And he spoke his thoughts. "It was in part the technology upon his wrist."
Body held still, Daniel Jackson blinked twice. His mouth opened, then shut, and he blinked again, then straightened. "Uh-watch? His wristwatch?"
"Indeed."
"You know, maybe you shouldn't tell...although, given Jack's ego, it might not...but-well, no, probably not."
"It is not a slight upon him, Daniel Jackson."
His glasses had slipped, but instead of pushing them up, Daniel Jackson lifted his chin and tilted his head back and asked, "It's more?"
Teal'c gave a nod, but he had no other answer to give.
However, Daniel Jackson still had words. "A gestalt maybe-a sum of the whole? An experience so integrated you can't really break it apart?"
"That would indeed be more accurate."
"Because...it wasn't magic?" Again, the smile flashed, but this time it reached Daniel Jackson's eyes, creasing the edges. "His watch isn't an ornament. He wears it on his wrist, yes, but it's almost hidden. It's neglected. And of course it has to tell you a lot about us-advanced technology, meaning refined metallurgy skills and a sophistication of design. Then there's the manufacturing capabilities shown-not hand worked...industrialization is indicated. But there's more. It's not just the watch as the thing itself. It's that he was wearing it. It was his. A posession carelessly held."
Teal'c nodded and allowed the corner of his mouth to lift, as he would in approval of an apprentice who had mastered a new move. But he was unsure now who was master here on this ground.
Daniel Jackson straightened. "My god, it's like on Abydos. I had a pendant-Catherine, the person who showed me the Stargate, gave it to me. It had the udjat, the Eye of Ra on it."
"A symbol of power."
"A symbol that I was...well, basically free to do pretty much as I pleased. And that's really it-isn't it?"
With another nod, Teal'c gave the point. "To carry anything other than a weapon is to court one of the more lingering deaths. We light our homes with fire. We know the time of day by the movement of sun and stars, which are there for a god to command. And while we may be taught by the gods to use what they possess, such knowledge is for their benefit."
"So if you find a civilization, a world, where that isn't the case?"
"It is destroyed. Nothing is left."
"And nothing is taken." Daniel Jackson nodded. "Unless it's by the gods. You're used to battle, so meeting an armed opponent is nothing-but to meet someone who doesn't even think twice about wearing any kind of technology...Jack didn't even try to impress you with some story about it."
"And there is your part to consider."
"Me?" The word came out high and fast, and Daniel Jackson pointed to himself and then his eyebrows arched high, and his glasses slipped lower. "What the hell did I do?"
"In my experience, no human has ever offered himself to become a host."
"That?" With a shrug, Daniel Jackson waved off the implications Teal'c had tried to put into his words. "Yeah, well-that was...desperation. And Jack's already made it clear what he thinks about me doing that-or not doing that-again. Not that I would. I mean, well...I didn't really know, did I?"
"Yet you made the offer."
The man seated on the ground flinched and shifted, and looked away. He finally pushed his glasses back into place. "So...it made you think, 'hey, if Jack can keep this idiot alive, he really can pull off getting these other people out of here?'"
"It was an indication that you did not know the Goa'uld-not as gods, nor as demons, nor as the possessors of souls."
Still frowning, lines pulled tight between his eyebrows, Daniel Jackson glanced back, but his face smoothed and he lifted a hand and offered, "Okay, I guess that makes sense. Ignorance as something amazing?"
"It was an act of courage-as were O'Neill's words. As was your drawing the symbol of the Tau'ri in the dirt."
"Oh, no-well, I mean, Jack, yes-he really..." Daniel Jackson offered another of his quick, empty smiles. "But me...well, maybe Jack has a point about the training."
"You are a coward then?"
"Uh, well-I wouldn't...I mean, I'm here, aren't I? But I'm not-y'know, applying labels isn't the best way to get to know someone. Besides, any idiot can stand around and act brave-not that I'm saying Jack's that, of course. It's just..." Squirming, Daniel Jackson pulled at the collar of his shirt and turned to stare at the ground. "Is it getting hot?"
Eyes narrowing, Teal'c glanced at their surroundings. He was not warm, but he no longer had to endure a uniform of metal designed to inspire fear by its sound. He much preferred the Tau'ri idea of light clothes for practical stealth. He glanced back at Daniel Jackson. "It is the same as before."
Ignoring this, Daniel Jackson pressed his hands flat on the ground. He stared at his hands. Then he lifted them and stared at his palms. Reaching down, he tore a page from his book. He formed it into a crude ball and tossed it to the ground-and then leaned forward, eyebrows lifting high again.
Teal'c glanced from the discarded page to Daniel Jackson. And he began to see the truth in O'Neill's last warning, given as O’Neill had assisted Teal'c in acquiring equipment for this mission.
"That man is never going to do what you expect, so we'd better all start expecting that."
The element of surprise was of great value and could offer the upper hand in battle, but it was not something you wanted forced upon you by those who fought beside you. Which left Teal'c staring at the man seated upon the ground and wondering.
They all must be a little mad. He to defy his god. O'Neill to declare war on the gods themselves. Captain Carter to follow into that fight. And this soft-spoken man who was not a fighter, nor a priest, and not really a guide, and who knew too many things, but whose place Teal'c could not fathom.
Daniel Jackson only fidgeted. He slumped and straightened, and tapped his pen against his open palm and glanced at his watch.
Minutes ticked past. Teal'c now wore his own watch. He had not asked it of O'Neill, but O’Neill had presented it and far more, including the promise of 'cable,' a something that needed to be brought down to the level of the mountain where he now resided. Boredom began to settle, but Teal'c did not ask why Daniel Jackson would destroy his writing page and then watch it. Questions, given time, answered themselves.
This one was answered when a soft hum began, low and irritating, lifting then falling as if seeking a set frequency.
Teal'c glanced around, located the sound as coming from under the paper. As he did, light flared-sharp and white, and bright enough that Teal'c shaded his eyes.
When he looked again, the paper ball was gone.
Scrambling to his feet, Daniel Jackson stared at the spot where the paper had been, his mouth slack and eyes wide. Then he glanced at Teal'c. "Uh-teleported?"
He sounded hopeful-wishful. But the faint scent of ash stung the air. A sense of smell, as well as good vision, seemed not to be among Daniel Jackson's few strengths, either.
Teal'c returned the look. "Vaporized."
"Ah." Grabbing his pack, Daniel Jackson took a few steps away from where the paper had been. "This is going to bring new meaning to the phrase hot footing it, isn't it? Which we'd probably better do. As in-get moving?"
"I concur." Teal'c thumbed on his radio. "O'Neill, the ground has a defensive element to destroy objects which remain immobile for any time. It would be wise to remain in motion."
"Teal'c, now would be a very good time to tell me you're practicing inappropriate humor."
Daniel Jackson reached for his radio and flicked it on. "Wish he was, Jack. But this place just incinerated some paper. I think it might be a way to keep visitors from setting up homesteads-either that or it's how they get rid of the remains of anyone who gets stuck."
"Real cheerful, Daniel."
"What-I'm supposed to be happy about this?"
"Just...keep it slow. We'll pick up the pace on our end. And keep this damn channel open. Carter says your signal's bouncing all the hell over. O'Neill out."
Teal'c glanced at Daniel Jackson and fell into step with him. "O'Neill sounds displeased."
"Well, that makes two of us. So, how slow do you think we have to go to stay alive and not burn our boots off?"
That had been after the team's initial training, and Teal'c had thought he had understood the exercise, but he had not. He had said nothing in reply, and O'Neill had let out a breath and added, "Oh, hell, he just knows stuff and he's with us, so from now on, we all look after him. Got it?"
That much he...got.
He still had not got Daniel Jackson.
Pack off, Daniel Jackson pulled open the top flap and unzipped it and started to search for something. He finally pulled out a book and a writing instrument Teal'c had been told was called a pen. Cross-legged on the ground, leaning a little against his pack, Daniel Jackson began to write. His focus moved in rapid glances from their surroundings to his words, with pauses to bite the end of his writing instrument, which left Teal'c shifting on his feet and his cheek twitching in a spasm he could not suppress.
Priests kept the tools to create words in the most sacred of temples-they did not chew on the ends of them.
Putting his attention back on their surroundings, Teal'c kept watch. But there was nothing to observe. No predators. No people. Nothing to guard against. He glanced back at Daniel Jackson and wondered at the words being formed, and the habit rose, automatic, to turn away, to hide his stare, as he had been taught as a boy.
Only gods had the power to create a record of their deeds. Gods made the spells to ensure success, and their priests inscribed them for eternity in gold. Those priests read the prayers taught by the gods and they carried out the gods' decrees. Overall, Teal'c had no love for their kind-not for false gods or priests-and his only faith now was that he could profane all they had taught him.
A very few priests had tried to act as buffers for their people, standing between the fickle will of the gods and the acts to appease them. But he had known too many who hid behind the power of the temple. Or who were too eager to wield whatever power was granted them with the excuse of pleasing the gods. Their kind would not fight in an honorable battle-but they would take the life of a warrior held on his knees before them. And he had killed his share of them-hassacs who had served Ra and Heru'ur and who had cowered as they begged.
Their words had changed nothing.
No spell could aid a poor strategy. Prayers did not alter a god's intent. And mercy was not granted to those who pleaded. He had seen the truth in that. But now he was also seeing the lie.
These Tau'ri used words. They scattered them like pretty river stones and slashed with them like sharp blades-they fought with their words and bickered with each other and used words to enlist support and to sway minds. Words held play and meaning, and with them they had built a world to rival the Goa'uld, and they used words to pass to their children both their wisdom and their foolishness. Yet, for all that, they seemed to think nothing of the rite to record their thoughts.
Except for this one.
The written word held great value for this one. Teal'c had seen that already in what little he had seen of this man. But what he had witnessed so far did not help him understand the value in having Daniel Jackson with them now.
"Of what do you write, Daniel Jackson?"
"Uh, oh, well, I just thought someone should know what happened to us, in case..."
He left off speaking to wave a rolling gesture with soft, narrow hands that did not look heavy or strong enough to strike a fatal blow-or even a glancing one that would leave much hurt behind. Teal'c understood his meaning, however. And found that he agreed. "This is a defensive measure."
Eyes wide, and the blue in those eyes sharpened by the widening black centers, Daniel Jackson looked up from his book. "And that means...?"
"Is this not similar to your iris? A protection for this world? And do you not have more than a metal shield over your Stargate? Do you not have weapons and plans for how to deal with an enemy who might breach that shield?"
Straightening where he sat, Daniel glanced around. He looked back at Teal'c and his eyebrows lifted very high over the round glasses. Teal'c had never seen anyone who needed to wear something on his face to correct his vision and it impressed him that Daniel Jackson could survive with such a physical weakness. It argued for a strong will. Or for a stupid people who would foster frailty in their midst.
Eyebrows flattening, Daniel Jackson asked, "This isn't Jack's idea of more training, is it?"
Since that was a stupid question, Teal'c did not answer, but waited.
The Tau'ri did more than use their words-they squandered them like children who had never known the need to keep one's tongue to keep one's life. Daniel Jackson did not disappoint Teal'c in his expectations now.
When Teal'c made no answer, Daniel Jackson frowned, put his writing instrument into his open book and settled with his elbows resting on bent knees. "I mean, it'd be just like Jack to think we need a training mission, along with everything else, and I sort of get the idea for that, but how anyone thinks we can train for-" Breaking off, he waved a hand again at the surrounding trees, this time the gesture a quick, curt slash. He shifted his stare back to Teal’c. "Did you expect this? Fake trees? A fake world? Have you even seen anything like this before?"
"No."
"And how many planets have you been to?"
"More than I have counted."
"Exactly my point!"
"Daniel Jackson, this is not training. But did O'Neill not say training is less about surrounding conditions and more about conditioning a response so that we know how each of us will each react in any circumstance?"
The man made a dismissive sound-a breath blown out with a cut-off laugh. He lifted both his hands, palms spread in eloquent exasperation. "But we already know that."
"I do not know."
"Oh, come on. None of us are that hard to figure out. You know Jack is always going to want to shoot anyone-hell, anything-that so much as looks a threat our way. Sam...captain...doctor...Carter, she might be curious, but she's going to follow Jack's lead. She has to. There's a reason her military title comes first. And you will, too. You said as much-you gave you allegiance to the general, and to Jack."
"And you, Daniel Jackson? You will talk?"
A sudden grin flashed and vanished. "Yeah-kinda like I'm doing now, I guess. See-you do know."
"O'Neill's point remains valid. I do not know how you will fight."
"Oh, I think you do." Straightening, Daniel Jackson rubbed his shoulder and winced. "As in badly."
"As in you are bad?"
"What?"
"It is an expression O'Neill said is of great value."
"Lemme guess-bad ass?"
"To be bad is to be very good."
"Of course Jack would be teaching you stuff like that. I wouldn't-well, we have a lot of phrases where social context is important. And while idiomatic language can help establish you as a member of a group, its use in the wrong context can lead to the opposite conclusion. In fact, you can trace this kind of contextual relevance back to the most ancient languages, in which...which doesn't really matters to you very much, does it?"
Daniel Jackson's voice had lifted and quickened and he gave another smile-or he lifted his mouth, but the expression reached no other part of his face. Teal'c watched him for a moment, and he was not taken in by the misdirection. Daniel Jackson's expressions often seemed to give away too much, but Teal'c had noted already that those fleeting fast shifts of mood often seemed more about hiding than revealing.
Teal’c gave a small nod, for he, too, recognized the need here. "Your language then is not unlike Goa'uld, in which a word may have many meanings, depending upon both inflection and how it is used in conjunction with other words."
"Inflection? Really? Interesting. I wonder if that indicates a Chinese influence at one point? Maybe from Xiang or even Hakka?"
"Of that, I do not know."
"Oh, I wasn't-that was rhetorical. It's a question where you're not really looking for an answer."
"Then why do you ask?"
"Ah-well, that actually is a good question."
"Is this similar to when O'Neill asked during training if you were incapable of reacting with greater speed than a three-toed nocturnal mammal known for its lethargy?"
"Sloth?" With a nod, then a lift of his shoulders and a shake of his head, Daniel Jackson drew out slow words, "Yeah...that's an example, yes."
"Then I understand."
Daniel Jackson again gave his smile-the brief, tight one that seemed to offer little amusement and even less threat. He glanced down at his book again and took up his writing instrument.
Teal'c looked away.
This was another thing he did not understand-this need for Daniel Jackson to act as if he had not, with O'Neill, killed a god. Or perhaps it was no pretense. He had heard the story of Ra's death from O'Neill, but perhaps O'Neill gave more credit than was due to this scholar. If that was the case, how wise was it of O'Neill to bring Daniel Jackson with them through the Stargate? As a guide he made sense, but as a valued member of a fighting unit?
But perhaps O'Neill had intended the training to discourage Daniel Jackson so he would ask to remain behind. That, however, did not fit with O'Neill's orders that they all 'look after' Daniel Jackson because he knew 'stuff.' This contradiction required a resolution.
He had time now to peruse an answer, so he began to turn over possibilities, reasons why O'Neill would want this man kept close. Nothing, however, made sufficient sense. And then awareness bushed the back of his neck and he glanced over and found intense blue eyes focused upon him, the stare very direct, and he thought of his childhood belief-long ago lost-that the gods, and those blessed by the gods, could see into a man's heart and mind.
A hesitant smile lifted, sweeping away those thoughts. The expression fell and Daniel Jackson said, his voice very soft and very certain, "I think you actually know us a lot better than you think you do."
"I do not."
"Well, on Chulak, Jack barely said a half dozen words. But you believed him. You turned your back on everything because of what he said. So what-you did that without really knowing something about him? You even said others had said the same thing to you. But it wasn't their words you acted on. So something more than just Jack's words had to sway you."
Frowning, Teal'c stared at the other man. "Words have value, Daniel Jackson. You know this."
"I didn't say otherwise-but in this case there is something more, isn't there?"
Teal'c hesitated and kept his council, but Daniel Jackson kept his stare fixed-If Teal'c chose not to answer, this would be a challenge given and given back. And there would be little chance for anything else between them after such an exchange.
His gaze dropping, Teal'c gave a small nod. "It was indeed not his words alone."
"So...there was something inherent in Jack that made you believe in him? Something you knew on a very deep level?"
Shifting his grip on his staff, Teal'c looked away. He glanced back and could see no way to avoid yet another answer-not with Daniel Jackson leaning forward like this, that stare fixed on him until it almost burned. And Teal'c felt the seductive tug of the man's interest.
He had been questioned much of late. But the questions had focused on the Goa'uld. Others had wanted only to know how their enemy might be fought. That was not what Daniel Jackson wanted.
Teal'c shifted his grip on his staff weapon. He was Jaffa. He had once been First Prime to Apophis, who was not just a Goa'uld, but a System Lord. He needed no one's understanding and he craved no one's hearing of his thoughts. And, yet, he did not look away. And he spoke his thoughts. "It was in part the technology upon his wrist."
Body held still, Daniel Jackson blinked twice. His mouth opened, then shut, and he blinked again, then straightened. "Uh-watch? His wristwatch?"
"Indeed."
"You know, maybe you shouldn't tell...although, given Jack's ego, it might not...but-well, no, probably not."
"It is not a slight upon him, Daniel Jackson."
His glasses had slipped, but instead of pushing them up, Daniel Jackson lifted his chin and tilted his head back and asked, "It's more?"
Teal'c gave a nod, but he had no other answer to give.
However, Daniel Jackson still had words. "A gestalt maybe-a sum of the whole? An experience so integrated you can't really break it apart?"
"That would indeed be more accurate."
"Because...it wasn't magic?" Again, the smile flashed, but this time it reached Daniel Jackson's eyes, creasing the edges. "His watch isn't an ornament. He wears it on his wrist, yes, but it's almost hidden. It's neglected. And of course it has to tell you a lot about us-advanced technology, meaning refined metallurgy skills and a sophistication of design. Then there's the manufacturing capabilities shown-not hand worked...industrialization is indicated. But there's more. It's not just the watch as the thing itself. It's that he was wearing it. It was his. A posession carelessly held."
Teal'c nodded and allowed the corner of his mouth to lift, as he would in approval of an apprentice who had mastered a new move. But he was unsure now who was master here on this ground.
Daniel Jackson straightened. "My god, it's like on Abydos. I had a pendant-Catherine, the person who showed me the Stargate, gave it to me. It had the udjat, the Eye of Ra on it."
"A symbol of power."
"A symbol that I was...well, basically free to do pretty much as I pleased. And that's really it-isn't it?"
With another nod, Teal'c gave the point. "To carry anything other than a weapon is to court one of the more lingering deaths. We light our homes with fire. We know the time of day by the movement of sun and stars, which are there for a god to command. And while we may be taught by the gods to use what they possess, such knowledge is for their benefit."
"So if you find a civilization, a world, where that isn't the case?"
"It is destroyed. Nothing is left."
"And nothing is taken." Daniel Jackson nodded. "Unless it's by the gods. You're used to battle, so meeting an armed opponent is nothing-but to meet someone who doesn't even think twice about wearing any kind of technology...Jack didn't even try to impress you with some story about it."
"And there is your part to consider."
"Me?" The word came out high and fast, and Daniel Jackson pointed to himself and then his eyebrows arched high, and his glasses slipped lower. "What the hell did I do?"
"In my experience, no human has ever offered himself to become a host."
"That?" With a shrug, Daniel Jackson waved off the implications Teal'c had tried to put into his words. "Yeah, well-that was...desperation. And Jack's already made it clear what he thinks about me doing that-or not doing that-again. Not that I would. I mean, well...I didn't really know, did I?"
"Yet you made the offer."
The man seated on the ground flinched and shifted, and looked away. He finally pushed his glasses back into place. "So...it made you think, 'hey, if Jack can keep this idiot alive, he really can pull off getting these other people out of here?'"
"It was an indication that you did not know the Goa'uld-not as gods, nor as demons, nor as the possessors of souls."
Still frowning, lines pulled tight between his eyebrows, Daniel Jackson glanced back, but his face smoothed and he lifted a hand and offered, "Okay, I guess that makes sense. Ignorance as something amazing?"
"It was an act of courage-as were O'Neill's words. As was your drawing the symbol of the Tau'ri in the dirt."
"Oh, no-well, I mean, Jack, yes-he really..." Daniel Jackson offered another of his quick, empty smiles. "But me...well, maybe Jack has a point about the training."
"You are a coward then?"
"Uh, well-I wouldn't...I mean, I'm here, aren't I? But I'm not-y'know, applying labels isn't the best way to get to know someone. Besides, any idiot can stand around and act brave-not that I'm saying Jack's that, of course. It's just..." Squirming, Daniel Jackson pulled at the collar of his shirt and turned to stare at the ground. "Is it getting hot?"
Eyes narrowing, Teal'c glanced at their surroundings. He was not warm, but he no longer had to endure a uniform of metal designed to inspire fear by its sound. He much preferred the Tau'ri idea of light clothes for practical stealth. He glanced back at Daniel Jackson. "It is the same as before."
Ignoring this, Daniel Jackson pressed his hands flat on the ground. He stared at his hands. Then he lifted them and stared at his palms. Reaching down, he tore a page from his book. He formed it into a crude ball and tossed it to the ground-and then leaned forward, eyebrows lifting high again.
Teal'c glanced from the discarded page to Daniel Jackson. And he began to see the truth in O'Neill's last warning, given as O’Neill had assisted Teal'c in acquiring equipment for this mission.
"That man is never going to do what you expect, so we'd better all start expecting that."
The element of surprise was of great value and could offer the upper hand in battle, but it was not something you wanted forced upon you by those who fought beside you. Which left Teal'c staring at the man seated upon the ground and wondering.
They all must be a little mad. He to defy his god. O'Neill to declare war on the gods themselves. Captain Carter to follow into that fight. And this soft-spoken man who was not a fighter, nor a priest, and not really a guide, and who knew too many things, but whose place Teal'c could not fathom.
Daniel Jackson only fidgeted. He slumped and straightened, and tapped his pen against his open palm and glanced at his watch.
Minutes ticked past. Teal'c now wore his own watch. He had not asked it of O'Neill, but O’Neill had presented it and far more, including the promise of 'cable,' a something that needed to be brought down to the level of the mountain where he now resided. Boredom began to settle, but Teal'c did not ask why Daniel Jackson would destroy his writing page and then watch it. Questions, given time, answered themselves.
This one was answered when a soft hum began, low and irritating, lifting then falling as if seeking a set frequency.
Teal'c glanced around, located the sound as coming from under the paper. As he did, light flared-sharp and white, and bright enough that Teal'c shaded his eyes.
When he looked again, the paper ball was gone.
Scrambling to his feet, Daniel Jackson stared at the spot where the paper had been, his mouth slack and eyes wide. Then he glanced at Teal'c. "Uh-teleported?"
He sounded hopeful-wishful. But the faint scent of ash stung the air. A sense of smell, as well as good vision, seemed not to be among Daniel Jackson's few strengths, either.
Teal'c returned the look. "Vaporized."
"Ah." Grabbing his pack, Daniel Jackson took a few steps away from where the paper had been. "This is going to bring new meaning to the phrase hot footing it, isn't it? Which we'd probably better do. As in-get moving?"
"I concur." Teal'c thumbed on his radio. "O'Neill, the ground has a defensive element to destroy objects which remain immobile for any time. It would be wise to remain in motion."
"Teal'c, now would be a very good time to tell me you're practicing inappropriate humor."
Daniel Jackson reached for his radio and flicked it on. "Wish he was, Jack. But this place just incinerated some paper. I think it might be a way to keep visitors from setting up homesteads-either that or it's how they get rid of the remains of anyone who gets stuck."
"Real cheerful, Daniel."
"What-I'm supposed to be happy about this?"
"Just...keep it slow. We'll pick up the pace on our end. And keep this damn channel open. Carter says your signal's bouncing all the hell over. O'Neill out."
Teal'c glanced at Daniel Jackson and fell into step with him. "O'Neill sounds displeased."
"Well, that makes two of us. So, how slow do you think we have to go to stay alive and not burn our boots off?"