by Karen Miller
Emerging from the sun-dappled shadows she saw the gate plinth and stopped dead. Her head came up and she looked around, startled. Dixon held his breath but she didn’t see them.
Still holding the flowers she hurried to the spot where the MALPs had squatted and stared, seemingly perplexed by their inexplicable disappearance. She even dropped to one bare knee, the flowers carefully protected, and touched her fingers to the sun-baked red rock where they’d been. Then she stood again, turning to the shrine as though seeking an answer. Every line of her body shouted confusion, dismay… and fear.
O’Neill leaned forward and tapped Jackson on the shoulder. “Okay, Daniel. You’re on.”
Dixon watched as Jackson carefully got to his feet and stepped out of concealment. The Adjoan girl didn’t see him, she was still seeking some kind of answer or comfort from the red rock shrine. It was way beyond weird, looking at a human being who had no idea that Earth existed. Who was descended from humans who’d been stolen from their home thousands and thousands of years ago.
Janet Fraiser was right. Once you step through the Stargate there’s no going back.
Abruptly he felt bereft, as though he’d lost something precious, of profound importance. And in a blinding flash of insight he knew what it was.
Innocence. Goddammit, I’ve lost my innocence.
Just like the young Adjoan woman Jackson had nearly reached was about to lose hers…
She was down on both knees before the shrine now, heedless of the hard rock against skin and bone. The pansy-like flowers had been taken from their honored place and placed on the ground. The scarlet offerings she’d brought with her were still in her hands but she was holding them out in some kind of supplication, or as though she wanted her invisible god to inspect them and give her a sign of approval. Her head was bowed, the long braid down her back glossy in the sun. She was so engrossed in her silent prayer that Jackson was able to get within three feet of her. Then his shadow fell obliquely across the shrine and she knew at last that she wasn’t alone.
With a startled cry she dropped the scarlet flowers and turned awkwardly, overbalancing on the uneven ground.
“No!” she cried, snatching her scraped knees up to crouch before Jackson. “You cannot be here! You must leave the gods’ place!”
Jackson immediately dropped to a crouch himself and held out one hand. “It’s all right,” he said, his gentle voice carrying clearly. “I’m a friend. My name is Daniel. What’s yours?”
The Adjoan girl’s eyes were large and lustrous, proclaiming her Egyptian heritage. She stared at Jackson, a swift pulse beating in the base of her throat.
“Daniel,” she said. “Are you a god?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I’m not a god. I’m a man.”
“But you are at the shrine.” She sucked in a deep breath and scrambled away from him, her eyes brilliant with fear. “Did Ra and Setesh send you? Do they return?”
“No,” said Jackson, his hand still outstretched. “Are you afraid of Ra and Setesh?”
“Of course. They gave the people of Adjo suffering and death as a punishment for our sins.”
“No,” said Jackson. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You have to believe that. You weren’t to blame.”
The girl turned her face from him, as though she was too overcome to speak. Jackson withdrew his outstretched hand and eased back a bit to sit cross-legged on the ground.
Dixon glanced sideways at Carter. “I don’t think this is going too well.”
She shook her head. “You can trust Daniel, sir. Give him time, he’ll get through to her.”
“I don’t know, Major. It’s not looking very — ”
He heard O’Neill make a little sound in his throat, a kind of skeptical, hopeful grunt, and turned. “What?”
“You’ve been here five minutes and now you’re an expert? Give me a break.”
“No, I’m not an expert. I’m just thinking — ”
“To no good purpose,” said Teal’c. “If you knew him as we do you would not doubt Daniel Jackson.”
“I don’t doubt him, I’m just wondering whether — ”
“Yeah, Dixon, you are doubting him,” interrupted O’Neill. “And more importantly you’re starting to piss me off, so — ”
“Sirs,” said Carter. “Teal’c. Don’t you think this can wait?”
Silence, as they stared at her. Then O’Neill grunted again. Not angry, but accepting. Diverted, Dixon considered him. Took in the way O’Neill dropped his hackles and held his tongue.
So the major can pull rank on the colonel? That’s a new one. I’ll have to remember that…
Tucking the moment away for later examination, he turned his attention back to Jackson.
The team’s point man was gathering up the fallen scarlet flowers. When he finished he smoothed them into a neat bouquet and held them out to the withdrawn, silent girl. “I don’t think they’re damaged. You can still offer them to Ra and Setesh. That’s who you brought them for, isn’t it?”
Slowly she looked at him, then nodded, and after a moment accepted the bouquet. “Yes. Are you their servant? Do you come with a message?”
“I’ll answer all your questions,” said Jackson. “If you tell me your name.”
The girl looked at him, a riot of indecision in her face. “It is not seemly for a maiden to give her name to a strange man.”
Jackson raised his palms to the sky. “By the words of my heart, by the truth in my tongue, by the eye in the sky which sees all my deeds, I will do you no harm.”
It sounded like a ritualized response. The Adjoan girl gasped. “You say you are not the gods’ servant yet you know the words by which Ra’s slaves are known! You mean to harm me!”
“No!” said Jackson. “I promise! I was mar — I knew a servant of Ra. I was given the words as a sign that you might know my true heart and trust me.”
The girl was frowning now. “Oh…” she said at last, sounding uncertain.
“Please,” said Jackson. “Won’t you tell me your name?”
The girl released a deep sigh and bowed her head. “My name is Lotar.”
“Lotar,” said Jackson. “It’s good to meet you. I hope in time you and I can become friends.”
The girl Lotar looked up. “Friends speak the truth,” she said. “Who are you, Daniel? Where are you from?”
Holy crap, thought Dixon. I’ll be damned. He’s done it.
Daniel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lotar. Did she know she was named for a thing? A slave? He smiled at her.
“You have a very pretty name.” Start with a compliment, leave the awkward explanations for later. I’ll have to work my way into them, one word at a time. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
Lotar smiled back, the shyest curving of her lips. God, she reminded him of Sha’re. He felt his heart hitch, as it always hitched whenever he was confronted with an echo of his dead wife unawares.
“My father said it means ‘precious’,” the girl said.
Of course it did. Body slaves were expensive. “That’s lovely.”
She tilted her head to one side, considering him gravely. “You said you would answer my questions if I told you my name. I have told you my name, Daniel.”
He swallowed a laugh. With her initial startlement and fear faded, it seemed she was a practical person. Not someone easily distracted or intimidated — and a stickler for the rules. “Yes, Lotar. Yes, you have, and that was the bargain.”
“Then where are you from?” she said, still staring intently. “I have never before seen a man with eyes like the sky.”
A simple question. What a shame its answer was so damned complicated. He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder at Jack and the others, still hiding in the shadows, expecting him to pull an anthropological miracle out of his hat. It was nice they had confidence in him, but sometimes…
Lotar was waiting for his answer. Her eyes were wide and touchingly confident… but h
e knew how easily her fear could return. If he didn’t play his cards right, if he let this delicate situation get away from him, they’d be hip deep in trouble… and it would all be his fault.
But hey. No pressure.
“I’m here to meet you, Lotar. Your people and mine have a great deal in common. We want to get to know you. I think there are many ways we can help each other. Learn from each other. Do you understand?”
She reached out with hesitant fingers and touched his cheek. “You are warm. Are you flesh and blood, as I am flesh and blood?”
He nodded. “Yes, Lotar. I told you, I’m not a god. I’m human, just like you. In fact…” He took another deep breath. Careful now. Careful. “I know it sounds impossible, but in an odd way we come from the same place. Your ancestors, your family from long, long ago, were born where I was born. On a — ” He nearly said planet, but he didn’t want to confuse her. Overwhelm her. “In a place called Earth.”
“Earth,” she said, as though she could taste the word on her tongue. “A strange name for a village. I have never heard of it.”
A village? So did that mean she had no concept of other worlds, other planets? No idea that she and her people weren’t originally from here? It was possible… the humans of Adjo had been isolated for centuries. There was no telling how far the stories of their history had shifted from the truth. Facts lost, misinterpreted, reinvented. New origin myths created to satisfy the urgent need to know, to understand, to occupy a place in the universe that made some kind of sense. Just like on Abydos.
“Oh, Earth is wonderful. I’d like to tell you about it some time,” he said. “If you’re interested.”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. I love stories. Daniel, your clothing is strange. I have never before seen a man dressed like you.”
He looked down at himself, at the military fatigues that had, without him meaning them to, become a kind of second skin. The skin of the other Daniel Jackson, the one who carried a gun and killed people with it, when he had to. The Daniel Jackson whose birth he’d tried so hard to prevent.
The Daniel Jackson I was made to invent, the price Jack said I had to pay for joining SG-1 and searching for Sha’re.
He’d hated it so much, in the beginning. Funny how aliens trying to kill you could help change your mind… how you could find yourself doing just about anything to save your own life, or the life of a friend… and not regret it after.
That had been the hardest part: the not regretting. Never once had he imagined he was a man who could kill without regrets. Even though who — what — he killed was evil and deserving of destruction, he’d thought he’d care a little bit — if only because they’d been alive. But no. It turned out he didn’t. Not always. Turned out he could hate with the best of them.
“Daniel?” said Lotar. “Is something wrong?”
“No, Lotar,” he said, looking up. “I’m sorry, I was just… thinking. About my clothes. I know they must seem very strange to you. I hope they don’t frighten you. I have other clothes, you know. Clothes that aren’t so different from yours.”
Again she gave him that wonderful smile. “Men do not wear dresses, Daniel.”
Oh Lotar, you’d be surprised… “I mean made of linen and dyed simple colors. That’s all.”
“I see. Daniel, this village Earth. Where is it? Does it — does it lie beyond the divide?” She sounded awestruck by the thought.
The divide… the divide… what the hell was that? There’d been something in the UAV footage, hadn’t there? A broad expanse of ravine and desert, inhospitable and harsh? Yes. And the second UAV had crashed in it before reaching the other side. That had to be what she meant. He shook his head. “No, Lotar. Earth isn’t beyond the divide.”
Now she looked confused. “But it must. There is nowhere else except beyond the divide, Daniel.”
Clearly she believed it. Which meant she and her people really had lost the truth of their origins. “Well, yes, Lotar. There is.” He shifted a little and looked at the Stargate. “There’s a whole lot more. Not just on Adjo, but on other worlds as well. Worlds that lie through the chappa’ai.”
He’d used the word on purpose to see if she recognized it, if any of Adjo’s folk history had incorporated Goa’uld terminology.
And he got his answer.
Between heartbeats her fear returned. Scuffling backwards, her eyes wide again and smile vanished, her breathing quickened, Lotar held the scarlet flowers to her chest as though they were a shield. “The chappa’ai is the gods’ doorway. It leads to the land of the gods and only the gods may walk through it. Only the gods may speak of it. We are not supposed to speak the words of Ra and Setesh. If we speak their words they will come back and punish us!”
“No, Lotar. Setesh and Ra can’t hurt you any more. They’re dead.”
“Dead? But gods cannot die!”
He touched her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “That’s not true. The gods can die, especially when they battle each other. Do you know about that? Do you know Ra and Setesh fought each other a long, long time ago?”
Her dark eyebrows were beautiful, delicate arches winged like a dove. They lowered now as she considered his question. “Yes,” she whispered. “In the great gods’ war, in the time before time. It was terrible.”
“Yes, but now it’s over,” he said. “Ra and Setesh have fallen. They can never return to harm you and your people.”
“I — I do not understand,” said Lotar. “If the gods are dead, how do they still punish us?”
“Lotar, they don’t.”
“But — ”
He took her hands and held them, lightly. “I know this is confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll explain properly soon, I promise. And then I’ll take you somewhere the gods have never been. Somewhere you’ll be safe, where you can learn and grow and live a wonderful life.”
She drew back, her face fearful. “What is this? Do you say I must leave my village? Leave Adjo?”
“No, no,” he said hastily. “Not if you don’t want to. But Lotar, if you knew what was out there… if you knew what your people are missing…”
Wonderingly, she stared at him. “You are sad for us, Daniel. I hear sadness in your voice. I see it in your eyes.”
He nodded. “Yes, I’m sad.”
“But why? You do not know us. How can you be sad for people you do not know?”
“I can be sad because you’ve been alone for so long,” he said fiercely. Just like the people of Abydos, his other family, alone and exploited by parasitical vermin. “Through no fault of your own you’ve been cut off from your birthright as free human beings. But you’re not alone now, Lotar. I came through the chappa’ai so you’d learn who you are and where you come from. So you’d know you and your people aren’t alone.”
His words made her gasp. “Through the chappa’ai, Daniel? You? But only the gods know how to wake their doorway. So you have not told me the truth, you must be a — ”
“No, Lotar. Any human can wake the chappa’ai. When the time is right I’ll show you and your people how. Then, if you want to, you can stay on Adjo. And if you want to leave, well, that can happen too.” No matter who he had to go through. No matter how many four-star generals he had to mow down. Hell, he’d mow down the President if that’s what it took. He’d mow down Jack.
After three thousand years of poverty these people deserve a break. Screw the mining concessions. This is why I’m here.
Lotar let her hand fall back in her lap. “The gods’ lands do not lie beyond their doorway?”
“Many lands lie beyond it, Lotar.”
She stared at the gate as though she was seeing it for the first time. “And you will take us through it to the place you say my people came from? You will take us to Earth?”
She had to ask… He smiled. “Like I said, Lotar, the chappa’ai leads to many worlds. I’m sure between us we can find the right one for your people, if you decide you want to leave.”
“Oh, Daniel…” Lotar sh
ook her head. “My mind is dizzy. I came to the shrine because this is my passing time and — ”
“I’m sorry,” he interrupted. “Your passing time? I don’t know what that is. Can you tell me? Or is it taboo?”
Her olive skin tinted with a faint rush of blood. “No,” she murmured, her gaze downcast. “It is not taboo. Only private. But I will tell you. After rebirthing season I am to marry Bhuiku. Before a girl marries and is made a true woman she is in her passing time. Then she must be alone. To prove she is worthy of being a true woman she must brave the gods’ wrath in the shadow of their doorway. She brings offerings and prays so she might bear her man strong sons who will not fall into darkness as babes.”
Fall into darkness? That sounded like a euphemism for death. Doubtless the Adjoans suffered a high infant mortality rate. It was something Janet would want to address sooner rather than later. So this passing time business was a kind of combined fertility and child protection rite. Okay. He could work with that.
“Well,” he said, “first of all, congratulations on getting married. You must be very happy.”
Lotar’s face lit up, a sweet smile blossoming. “Oh, I am. Bhuiku is the best of men. I pray to the gods I will be the best of women to him and give him many healthy sons.” And then she gasped, her smile dying. “But you say the gods are dead! If the gods are dead how will I know I am worthy to marry Bhuiku? If I marry Bhuiku without the gods’ blessing my babes will fall into the terrible darkness!”
Oh damn. I should’ve kept my big mouth shut. “No, no, Lotar, it’s all right!” he said, and risked putting his hand on the young girl’s shoulder.
“It is not all right, Daniel,” Lotar sobbed. “I cannot marry!”
Chapter Nine
Daniel could’ve kicked himself. Way to go, Jackson. Give yourself a gold frigging star. “Lotar, please, listen to me. You’ve misunderstood. The gods still have power.”
