Stargate: Hyperbole: Prologue Part I

[the_Brainz]

Since you asked, here it is, in pretty-much randomly divided sections, so it will fit into posts:

Stargate SG-1: Hyperbole

copyright © 2001 D Anderson n’Swaart

Stargate, Stargate SG-1 and all associated names and trademarks are copyright © MGM Studios Ltd.

for Amanda Tapping, Richard Dean Anderson, Michael Shanks, Christopher Judge, Don S Davis and Teryl Rothery, through whom Stargate is real.


Prologue

‘Carter!’ O’Neill raised a frustrated hand to grab the air in front of him, as if he could slap Sam’s inquisitive wrist from where he stood across the room. ‘Don’t touch that!’
Major Carter glanced up with an air that struggled between surprise and bafflement, the slightly startled expres-sion on her face seeming to imply that O’Neill hadn’t already warned her about looking with her hands twice before. ‘Sir,’ she protested. ‘I’m sure they’re perfectly harmless. This technology is at least six hundred years old…’ She poked at one of the orb-like humps that pushed up from the smooth, elevated discs that lined the walls of the gate-room like clockfaces with twenty hours. ‘It’s completely inactive sir,’ she finished.
‘Uh-uh-uh,’ Jack reprimanded, his hand still waving articulately in front of him.
‘The devices do indeed appear to be non-functional, Major-Carter,’ Teal’c agreed. ‘However, this technology is unfamiliar to us. We have encountered apparently inactive technology before that has turned out to be in perfect working condition.’
‘Teal’c’s right Sam,’ Daniel announced absently, running his own hand along the rim of another clockface. ‘Just look at the Stargate—’
‘Daniel!’ O’Neill gritted his teeth and sighed, flapping his hand in a gesture of resigned dismay. ‘Arg.’
‘—oh, sorry.’ Daniel pulled his fingers back and tucked them safely into his pocket, pushing his glasses up along the bridge of his nose with the other hand. ‘These inscriptions are, are fascinating.’ He pulled a small flashlight out of another pocket, incidentally releasing the wandering hand as he did so. ‘They’re not like anything I’ve seen be-fore—but they seem to have certain Cuneiform derivatives.’ He traced a finger along a helix of evenly-spaced, wedge-like characters. ‘Each symbol seems to be some kind of…of segment in a sequence…’ He trailed off, his examination of the lettering drawing him away from the other three and along one wall.
‘Aren’t you being a little cautious Colonel?’ Sam suggested. ‘I mean, it’s not like we haven’t played with strange technology before.’
O’Neill glanced across the ceiling and walls, fingering his P90. ‘Nah…I dunno Carter. I just have a bad feeling about this place.’ He stared suspiciously at one of the matt-grey slabs of metal, skirting it and weaving deeper into the recesses of the room until he pulled up abruptly in front what appeared to be some kind of altar about twenty metres from the Stargate. ‘He-llo!’
Daniel turned from an alcove. ‘Hello…what?’ he ventured cautiously.
‘Looks like we’ve interrupted someone’s beauty sleep,’ Jack announced, nosing his weapon vaguely at the altar.
Glancing up, Carter flipped whatever obscure, handheld sensor array she was toying with closed, and hurried over. She stepped up to the altar, unfazed by the skeletal remains of its previous occupant.
‘He appears to be human,’ she announced after a cursory examination. ‘Of course, I can’t really tell much from these remains; they’re rather decomposed.’
‘They’re in surprisingly good condition, considering how old they must be,’ Daniel mused, wandering over and around to the other side of the metal slab that the skeleton was resting on. He fingered what remained of its tattered clothing. ‘Interesting. These garments seem to be made of some type of synthetic leather…’
‘Do you think he was some kind of…sacrifice maybe?’ Carter asked tentatively.
Daniel frowned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose unconsciously. ‘I don’t know…I don’t think so…’ He fingered the inscriptions at the base of the tablet. ‘I wouldn’t expect such an obviously advanced culture to still have such…primitive…customs.’
O’Neill wrinkled his nose. ‘Teal’c?’
‘I do not believe this to be an altar Daniel-Jackson,’ Teal’c announced. ‘It is closer in appearance to a bed.’
O’Neill frowned. ‘A bed, Teal’c?’ he asked sceptically. ‘It’s rather…hard, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t see traces of a mattress of any kind,’ Daniel agreed.
‘But an altar would seem rather out of place here,’ Carter added. ‘Besides, if this man was a sacrifice, wouldn’t he have been removed after he was killed?’
‘If I could translate these inscriptions I’m sure they would answer a lot of questions,’ Daniel decided. ‘But all the ones I’ve found so far haven’t been very revealing…I’m going to explore a bit further and see if I can’t find some-thing that might help.’
Jack nodded. ‘Be careful.’ He turned to find that Daniel was already wandering into the shadows. ‘And don’t touch anything!’ he called after him.
Daniel raised a hand to wave backwards in acknowledgement, and Teal’c hefted his staff-rod. ‘I believe I shall accompany Daniel-Jackson,’ he announced.
‘Teal’c?’ O’Neill puckered his eyebrows.
‘I, too, have a…bad feeling…about this place O’Neill.’ Teal’c strode off after Daniel without further comment, and Jack turned to Samantha.
‘And you Carter?’
She widened her already large eyes. ‘Me sir? No—apart from the skeleton that is. I can’t see any reason that we should be worried about this place.’
‘Hmph.’ Somewhere in the shadowy interior of what appeared to be an open entranceway, Daniel’s voice mean-dered down.
‘Hey guys…I think I’ve found something!’
‘Don’t touch it!’ O’Neill shouted back.
‘No, it’s some more inscriptions…’ Abruptly, the tablet the skeleton was lying on beeped, and along the wall above the body’s head the metal dissolved into light, which in turn wavered and took form, flickering as it resolved itself into an apparently holographic screen.
‘What did I just say?’ Jack yelled, taking two quick steps back. Daniel’s voice filtered through the doorway again.
‘Oops.’
‘You’re darn right oops! What did you do?’
‘I—nothing. I don’t know.’ Footsteps approached from the door, and Teal’c and Daniel hurried into the gate-room again. ‘What happened?’
‘You tell me Daniel,’ O’Neill suggested a little testily. ‘You found something, and all of a sudden something else beeped, and this—’ he gestured to the shining display above the tablet ‘—appeared.’
‘It’s not just the altar, sir,’ Carter called from across the room. ‘This console is active too.’
‘As is this one,’ Teal’c rejoined.
‘Yeah—I think we can stop counting,’ O’Neill decided as every circular table in the room started to glow to life, the rounded humps illuminating at the edges with oranges and blues, and the inscriptions lighting from within. From each tablet, a spherical screen like the one above the altar flickered into existence, until the entire chamber was lit with faintly humming light.
‘Daniel?’ O’Neill prompted again.
Daniel prescribed a slow arc around the centre of the floor, before turning to Jack and blinking. ‘I think we can safely assume that this equipment isn’t dead after all.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I, uh, touched an inscription that was…glowing,’ he explained a trifle apologetically, already distracted by the symbols at the end of the altar. ‘Look at this—this writing, it seems to be some kind of, of menu maybe…’
‘But it’s etched into the metal,’ Carter noted. ‘All the inscriptions are.’
‘Brilliant—is that like using a stone tablet for a computer screen?’ Jack asked a little snidely.
‘No…I don’t think they’re supposed to change,’ Carter asserted. ‘I think they’re more like keyboards. The…holograms are the screens.’
‘Keyboards?’ Daniel asked. ‘Every console has different combinations of characters, in different groupings and…well, it doesn’t sound like a very efficient keyboard, that’s all.’
‘Perhaps we are mistaken Daniel-Jackson,’ Teal’c suggested. He reached out and carefully touched one of the symbols on the altar with his forefinger. The character flashed orange, and Carter blinked as it slid across the metal to replace the centre on the helix, while the rest of the spiral rearranged itself into new symbols and combinations.
‘Wow!’
‘What was it I said about touching?’ Jack asked.
‘Oh, come on sir.’ Sam looked up with her big eyes wide and bright, full of excitement. ‘You don’t find that the least bit amazing?’
‘Oh, it’s amazing all right,’ he agreed. ‘It’ll be even more amazing when some automated defence system wipes us all out for fiddling with this stuff.’
‘I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about sir…’ She trailed off as the orange light flashed blue, and the altar gave an obnoxious honk.
‘Oh…?’ Jack raised his eyebrows at her, seating his submachinegun more securely in his arms.
‘Daniel?’ Sam asked. ‘Any idea what these symbols might mean?’
‘Uh, well, I’m getting an idea,’ he ventured. ‘This orange…blue…orange—okay, why is this button flashing?’
‘Observe the viewscreen,’ Teal’c suggested.
Sam and Daniel looked up from the amorphous metal inscriptions and stared at the holographic display. ‘There’re a lot of symbols on the screen similar to those on the menu spiral,’ Daniel noticed.
‘Yes…do you see those lines?’ Sam asked.
‘They look like…some kind of graph maybe?’ Daniel glanced down again. ‘This symbol…’ he indicated the cen-tre character on the inscription tablet, now glowing a steady blue. ‘It’s similar to the Cuneiform letter representing life.’

[the_Brainz]

‘Life?’ Carter pondered.
‘Yes, and see that one there, on the, uh, screen—that’s the symbol for drums…or maybe time passing…’
Carter’s eyes widened expressively again. ‘Could this be some kind of stasis chamber?’
‘Um…I don’t think that’s quite what it is,’ Daniel shook his head, thumbing his glasses again. ‘That symbol next to the drums is fire, or heat…’
‘Like body heat!’ Sam exclaimed.
‘Yes, I think so, perhaps.’
‘So it must be a stasis chamber—it monitors the occupant’s vital signs.’
‘No…I don’t think so. For one thing, if all this equipment still works, why was it shut down and the poor guy left to die?’
Carter shrugged. ‘Could be any number of reasons,’ she said.
‘Hmm, maybe.’ Daniel stared down at the control panel. ‘But it’s missing something though—there’s no button that looks like it could correlate to on and off.’
‘Perhaps it automatically activates when occupied,’ Teal’c suggested.
‘Perhaps,’ Daniel agreed noncommittally.
‘Although, then how does it get deactivated?’ Carter commented.
‘Daniel?’ Jack prompted, impatient.
Daniel mused to himself for a second, lost in thought. ‘Yes…yes, well, see this symbol here? It’s the same as the symbol for a hand…’
Sam frowned. ‘Well…the hands are part of the body—it isn’t entirely unfitting I suppose.’
‘No, but I don’t think in this case it’s referring to a hand…I think it’s the act of touching, or maybe feeling.’
‘Feeling—the nervous system! Could it monitor the nervous system?’
Daniel shook his head. ‘I don’t…I don’t think so. I mean, maybe…but not the way I’m reading it.’
‘Well,’ Carter blinked suggestively. ‘Maybe you’re reading it wrong?’
‘Well, I’m not certain of course but this character—well, I’ve no idea what it is but I think it could be a symbol representing a scan of some kind…in fact, all these characters remind me of things that could be metaphors for dif-ferent types of examination.’ He paused. ‘I don’t think it’s supposed to be a stasis chamber. I think it’s a medical diagnosis bed, or perhaps a surgical table.’
Sam thought about that for a second. ‘Okay. So this guy was a patient.’
‘It looks that way.’
‘But why did he die?’
‘I don’t know…and where did everyone else go?’ He raised his eyebrows uncertainly as the table emitted another honk, and the orange spiral with the blue centre turned completely blue, before the characters started to meld into each other, sliding into the central blue symbol and disappearing, leaving the central character alone on the panel.
‘Okay, what does that mean?’
‘I think it’s telling us this guy is dead,’ O’Neill said.
‘Yes, that would make sense,’ Daniel agreed. He glanced across at Jack. ‘I want to try something.’
O’Neill sighed, and raised his eyes to heaven. ‘And let me guess—it involves more touching.’
‘Hmm.’ Daniel reached down and tapped the blue character again. The bed beeped, and the spiral slid out of the centre and back into position. ‘Okay…’ His hand hovered tentatively over the panel, and he reached down ex-perimentally to touch the key that he had identified as meaning “feel”. ‘I think this is the button for diagnosing,’ he explained.
‘Not much left to diagnose,’ O’Neill commented.
‘No, no there isn’t, but I think…’ he watched as the panel rearranged itself again, the diagnosis key moving to the centre and the blue “life” key moving outward to take up a position separate from the helix. The panel beeped again, and he tapped the next key in sequence. ‘I rather suspect that this is the button for general diagnosis,’ he an-nounced. The panel hummed, and O’Neill turned his head to stare sidelong at it.
‘Daniel?’
‘No, I really don’t know what I’m going,’ he replied.
‘Yeah.’ The sides of the bed started to glow slightly, and the corpse was suddenly enveloped in glowing, swirling energy that floated around it in a transparent fog. O’Neill took a step back, his weapon still ready, and stared unap-preciatively at the glowing miasma. ‘Wo, okay I really think that’s about enough,’ he decided.
‘Wait, sir—look.’ Sam pointed at the holographic screen, where the graphs shifted, and blue lights flashed what were evidently warnings.
‘It’s interesting that this culture seemed to use blue for “danger”, and orange for…well…“okay”,’ Daniel com-mented. ‘I can’t say it’s something I’ve seen before.’
‘I want to try something,’ Carter announced.
‘Oh, here we go,’ Jack shook his head. ‘Carter, I don’t think so. I’d like to get a special team in here to study this stuff. Then you can do all the trying you want.’
‘Sir, it’ll only take a second.’
‘Carter.’
Sam unslung her weapon and placed it on the floor. Reaching forward, toward the glowing energy that sur-rounded the skeleton, she tested it with her fingertips.
‘Carter!’
‘It’s okay sir.’
‘No, it’s not okay!’
Sam’s hand slipped inside the mist of energy, and she blinked. ‘Ooh, it tickles.’
On the holographic display, the graphics jumped about in surprise, and the bed chirped as symbols started scroll-ing up in orange.
‘Carter!’ O’Neill grabbed her and pulled her back a little more roughly than he had intended. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you crazy? You have no idea what that thing does!’
‘Sir…’ She stared at him, slightly taken aback. ‘It’s clearly not dangerous…heck, it’s a medical table sir!’
‘A medical table for aliens, Carter.’
‘But sir, those remains look human.’
‘They look human. Besides, if they are, did you ever consider what killed that poor bastard?’
Sam dropped her eyes sideways before glancing back up at him. ‘No sir.’
He sighed. ‘Look, you can play with this thing all you want when we get a techno-archaeological team in here. But it…bothers me when you start doing things like that.’
‘Yes sir. I’m sorry—but you know how it is with things like this.’
His eyes crinkled. ‘Oh yes.’ He twitched his eyebrows. ‘I know.’
‘Did you see what happened when Sam put her hand in that field?’ Daniel asked, apparently oblivious to O’Neill’s concern. ‘The graphs started registering activity—and the “life” button lit up orange.’
‘That’s great—that’s fantastic,’ Jack told him. ‘So Carter’s alive?’
Carter sighed and shook her head. ‘Sir, let’s just get that TA team in here so we can examine this thing more closely. If it is some kind of medical device, and we can figure out how it works, or even just pirate technology from it—well sir, it could revolutionise medical science.’
O’Neill glanced at her, her big eyes bright with that infectious, enthusiastic smile that illuminated her expressive face. ‘Yeah, all right Carter. You stay here and play if you want—I’m going to report back to Hammond and get the TA team.’ He turned and started back towards the gate, pausing to tap in the coordinates for Earth on the dial-home device with an absentness borne of long familiarity. ‘I don’t suppose it would do much good if I told you not to touch anything.’
Carter smiled. ‘No sir, I don’t think it would.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I figured.’ The gate started to spin, and he watched the chevrons lock and encode as the heavy, engraved ring rumbled around its circuit. Slowing to a final stop, the wedge-like lock snapped down on the pyramid topped by a single sun, and the red light glowed on, then it snapped back up again and the wormhole acti-vated with a raucous, metallic shout. He glanced back, the event horizon splashing his face with shifting blue.
‘Teal’c? You coming?’
Teal’c looked up. ‘I believe I shall stay and assist Doctor Jackson and Major Carter,’ he decided.
O’Neill shrugged. ‘That bad feeling not left you either, hah?’
‘It has not.’
O’Neill nodded, and something about his demeanour gave Sam an uneasy feeling in her stomach. ‘Play nicely, and don’t hurt yourselves.’
Teal’c inclined his head. ‘We will be careful O’Neill.’
Jack gave the gateroom one last, cursory examination, as if to assure himself that nothing was going to go wrong. Nodding to himself, he stepped through the rippling event horizon and was swallowed with a quiet slurp.

[the_Brainz]

I'd like to not clutter this thread with discussion; no doubt people will have comments, and I'd appreciate it if you'd post them in a new thread, so I can just keep on posting sections in this one. That way things will stay a lot more ordered, and you'll be able to find any section of the book in the same thread. Thanks for your cooperation ;)

Oh, and yes I know -- the paragraph formatting isn't what it should be. Those line breaks should be indented...

[the_Brainz]

I rustled this up today, but I'm working until Wednesday this week so chapter two probably won't be done until the weekend. After that I hope to have it coming pretty regularly:

Chapter One

‘P4C-520,’ Hammond announced, placing a finger on the transparent star-map that looked out onto the gateroom. ‘According to information provided by the Tok’ra, the planet is populated by a relatively advanced civilisation. Their technology is not such that the Tok’ra will benefit from trade, however they seemed to think that Earth would.’
‘They know these people personally?’ Daniel queried.
‘Apparently, yes,’ Hammond nodded. Turning from the star-map, he took a seat at the head of the briefing table. ‘Their medical technology is somewhat in advance of our own…although, what may be of more interest to you, Doctor Jackson, is their political system.’
Daniel raised his eyebrows hopefully. ‘Oh…?’
‘The Tok’ra were not extremely forthcoming with information, however they did mention that Taeâb society was similar in structure to the Marxist communist system.’
‘Really?’ Daniel raised his eyebrows further, but was prevented from further comment by O’Neill.
‘Communists?’
Carter shook her head slightly. ‘How did I see that coming?’
‘I don’t think that we need to worry, Colonel,’ Hammond replied, cutting off further remarks from O’Neill or Carter. ‘The Tok’ra assure me that the Taeâb are peaceful, and in fact share similar goals to ourselves in terms of their relations with other planets.’
‘I take it that they know how to use their stargate then,’ Samantha asked.
Hammond nodded. ‘Yes. And apparently they have several allies on planets we have not yet made contact with. I think it would be most beneficial if we could enter some kind of trade relations with these people.’
‘Sir,’ O’Neill jumped in. ‘They’re communists. How can this possibly be a good thing?’
‘Jack, communism isn’t necessarily a bad thing,’ Daniel told him somewhat reproachfully. ‘In fact, it’s an admira-ble system—unfortunately, every time someone has tried to do it on Earth, it’s failed rather badly. That doesn’t mean that it hasn’t worked on other planets.’
‘Besides sir,’ Sam added, ‘the Tok’ra said they were peaceful, and—’
‘Oh for crying out loud—the Tok’ra said?’ O’Neill broke her off. ‘Since when have the Tok’ra ever—’
‘Colonel!’ Hammond stepped in before an argument could escalate. ‘We have no reason not to trust the Tok’ra and every reason to believe them. I shouldn’t have to remind you that these people are our allies.’
‘Allies, sir?’ O’Neill looked beyond sceptical.
‘Yes Jack, our allies.’ Hammond puffed out his chest slightly in an unconscious, no-nonsense display of author-ity. O’Neill took note, and subsided.
‘That being the case, you’re going to go to P4C-520 and make contact with the Taeâb, and you’re going to be po-lite, Colonel.’ Hammond looked pointedly at Jack. ‘Between Doctor Jackson and Major Carter, I believe that you should make an excellent team for negotiating with these people, however because of the fact that medical technol-ogy is involved, I am temporarily assigning Doctor Fraiser to SG-1 as well.’
‘Uh, sir?’ Sam half raised her hand. ‘What about our work on P2X-1120? We’ve only just started to get the hang of the technology there—Daniel needs at least another forty-eight hours to complete his translation of the inscrip-tions on the discs, so we can really start to understand what all that equipment does, and maybe why it was aban-doned. The only thing we’ve had any success with so far is the medical table—but we need another couple of days to get it completely worked out.’ She glanced across at Daniel, the worry in her face exaggerated by her big eyes. ‘I know we’re close to something here, General, but we need more time.’
Daniel nodded. ‘Sam’s right. We need at least two more days.’
Hammond nodded, not unsympathetically. ‘I know. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision any more. If it were up to me I’d delay the P4C-520 mission for another week or so, but the President and Pentagon see more immediate benefits in the technology that the Taeâb may be able to offer us than in six hundred-year-old alien artefacts.’
Sam’s face fell. ‘But sir…’
‘Carter, I’m sorry.’ He laid his hands flat on the table, and she knew it would be no good arguing. ‘You leave first thing tomorrow, so make sure you get a decent night’s sleep. And remember to pack some heavy clothing—P4C-520 is on average ten degrees Celsius cooler than Earth.’
‘Sir,’ Carter asked quickly. ‘Permission to return to P2X-1120 for a few hours.’
He frowned, swayed by her pleading eyes. ‘Granted—but don’t do anything foolish Major. We still don’t know exactly what that technology can do, and rushing things isn’t going to make it work any better.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Make sure you’re back by 2100.’ He glanced between her and Daniel, and nodded briefly. ‘Dismissed.’

·

‘Well, this is nice,’ O’Neill remarked as he led SG-1 down the raised pedestal that supported the stargate of P4C-520. Glancing about, he absorbed the tall, roughly circular room that they were standing in—soft, bluey-grey pillars arced to clasp fingers at a point some way above their heads, and freestanding consoles fronted larger wall displays mounted between the spokes of the room. In a smooth, flowing double-tier, what looked like a control centre could be seen behind more glass.
‘Kinda makes our gateroom seem a little…tame,’ Daniel agreed. He stopped behind Jack at the end of the ramp that led up to the stargate, eying the personnel at the consoles with more interest than trepidation. The Taeâb made no attempt to greet them, but simply nodded when they caught the eye of one of the humans, and went back to work.
‘Now what?’ Fraiser wondered.
‘A welcome would be nice,’ O’Neill commented. He readjusted the P90 he was carrying over his shoulder into a compromise between a non-threatening position and a smart one, and started to march purposefully toward the far end of the gateroom, where an open entranceway suggested a way to the command centre. Halfway there, a figure appeared in the foyer coming the other way, and he slowed.
As the man drew closer, O’Neill gave him a quick once-over—dark hair, slim-fitting blue and grey clothes similar in many aspects of their design to the uniform he himself was wearing, and…glasses. He tried to remember ever having seen someone from another planet with glasses, and couldn’t. The man stopped a couple of metres in front of him.
‘You are, I think, Jack O’Neill of the Tau’ri?’ he asked politely.
Jack nodded. ‘That’s me. And…’
‘My name is Zhaél,’ the man replied. ‘I am the traelin of the cultural exchange division of my people’s govern-ment.’
O’Neill turned slightly. ‘Daniel?’
‘Traelin,’ Daniel pondered. ‘I think it’s roughly comparable to a president, or someone of the highest rank.’
Zhaél nodded. ‘Someone who is assigned a responsibility—we have no ranks.’ He returned his attention to O’Neill. ‘Selmak alerted us to the possibility of your arrival, and provided a small amount of background informa-tion on your team.’
‘Forgive me,’ Janet spoke up from behind O’Neill. ‘You say you’re the president of a government division—I couldn’t help noticing how young you seem.’
Zhaél inclined his head. ‘Our race has natural longevity,’ he acknowledged. ‘That, coupled with medical ad-vances that we have made over the last few decades, gives us a lifespan somewhat greater than the average human being.’ He raised his eyebrows openly at Janet. ‘I am afraid I do not know who you are.’
‘Zhaél, meet Dr Janet Fraiser,’ O’Neill waved his hands idly between them. ‘Just how old are you?’
‘I am fifty eight,’ Zhaél replied without presumption, nodding politely to Fraiser.
Fraiser blinked, not really noticing Zhaél’s unspoken greeting. ‘You don’t look a day over twenty-five!’
‘No, no I suppose I don’t.’ Zhaél shook his head abruptly. ‘But how impolite of me to leave you standing here—please come inside; guest quarters are always prepared for any iris travellers—but you surely call it something else?’
‘Hmm, for us the iris is actually a defence shield we installed on the stargate,’ Daniel put in as he followed Zhaél and SG-1 out of the gateroom. ‘Stargate—that’s our…word, I guess.’
‘A little quaint, if you don’t mind me saying so,’ Zhaél quirked the corner of his mouth. ‘But fitting—and some-what poetic.’
‘Uh, thank you,’ Daniel replied absently, more preoccupied with the details of corridor Zhaél was leading them through. ‘I suppose I’m partly to blame for that.’
‘How so?’ Zhaél inquired, curious.
‘I ah…translated the Egyptian texts pertaining to the stargate technology—the archaeologist before me muffed the wording.’ He paused, feeling rather conspicuous. ‘Literally translated, the texts read as a gateway to heaven, or to the stars…’ He glanced at Zhaél, and noticed his glasses for the first time. ‘Are you an archaeologist as well?’
Zhaél nodded, turning to lead them down another passageway. ‘I am.’ He glanced almost hopefully at Daniel. ‘I am eager to have a more detailed discussion on the cultural histories of our worlds, Daniel.’
‘Yes, yes.’ Daniel hurried to catch Zhaél up, matching stride beside him. ‘Um, I’m interested—do your people have more than one name, or do you simply use the first names?’
‘My full name is Zhaél Riïm,’ the Traelin replied. ‘We rarely use last names except to avoid confusion.’ He paused. ‘I hope I haven’t offended you by addressing you by your first names?’
‘Oh, no,’ Daniel shook his head. ‘Not at all; it’s just on Earth we will generally use last names for superiors, and first names for friends.’

[the_Brainz]

‘Well, I would hope to call the Tau’ri our friends,’ Zhaél replied. ‘From what the Tok’ra said, there is much we can learn from each other.’
‘Yes—I’m sure there is,’ Daniel agreed. He glanced about as they walked, wondering what the best way to ask about the Taeâb political system was, but Zhaél spoke again before he could.
‘I’m sorry, but we only have three double-rooms available at the moment.’ He slowed, and gestured to three open doorways at the end of the hallway. Four of you will have to bunk together, if that is not too much trouble?’
SG-1 raised their collective eyebrows, as if wondering why it would be too much trouble. O’Neill shrugged. ‘Nah—we’ve endured a lot worse.’
‘What Jack means to say,’ Daniel explained helpfully, ‘is that it’s no trouble at all, thank you. We appreciate your hospitality.’
Zhaél smiled. ‘We have a saying on Taeâb—what is ours is yours.’ He led them through one of the doors and into a spacious, simply-appointed room. The austere layout lent it an appearance of unusual size, emphasised by the tall, curved ceiling and carefully-positioned mirrors. In appearance, it was similar to the gateroom they had just come from—the same grey-blue arcs rose to the ceiling, with soft yellow light spilling from strips on their leading edges. Two functional, but comfortable-looking beds fitted neatly into the curve of the walls, facing each other across the room. The entire design had an organic fluidness to it that seemed to be standard in Taeâb structure. Stepping into the room with Zhaél, SG-1 found themselves staring out past a curved, nearly 180-degree expanse of glass, onto a city that put any on Earth to shame.
The organic structures so evident on the interior of Taeâb design did not end there. The entire city was a blue, grey and white expanse of supple, fluid arcs supporting curved glassfronts, reflecting the beauty of the setting sun in glorious oranges and yellows that perfectly complemented the rose-pink clouds trailing in a majestic tier over the city. Staring out, her face illuminated in surreal cerise, Sam was too awed to find words.
Jack took it all without a blink, and turned to Zhaél. ‘The view’s good.’
Zhaél smiled, pleased. ‘We take pride in our city,’ he acknowledged. ‘Our architects are the foremost in the In-terplanetary Coalition.’
‘Well, I can see why,’ Janet replied, without turning from the window.
‘Interplanetary Coalition?’ Daniel asked. Momentarily forgetting the view, he regarded Zhaél. ‘We’re interested in learning more about this Coalition…’
‘What Daniel means,’ O’Neill put in bluntly, ‘is that we may want to join it.’
‘Of course,’ Zhaél seemed surprised that Jack wouldn’t have thought he knew this. ‘I had believed this was the purpose of your mission?’
‘Well, technically we were only making contact with you,’ Carter told him. ‘We try to take things one step at a time, isn’t that right Colonel?’
‘I think this could better be discussed around a table,’ Daniel suggested. ‘One step at a time.’
‘Daniel is right,’ Zhaél nodded. ‘I regret it cannot be tonight, but you will understand that I am a busy man, and my aide is out of town on business until tomorrow morning. Normally I do not handle negations of this sort myself until some preliminary groundwork has been laid.’
‘That makes sense,’ Daniel agreed. ‘I had rather been wondering why someone of such high rank was…’
‘My rank is unimportant,’ Zhaél told him, waving his hand dismissively. ‘Our government exists only to maintain order and ensure that Taeâb and the rest of the Coalition runs smoothly. My status is no greater than any other man or woman in the Coalition.’ He paused, evaluating SG-1’s responses. ‘You find this surprising,’ he concluded.
‘Um, no, not exactly,’ Daniel said. ‘The Tok’ra did tell us that you have a…what we would call a communist so-ciety.’
‘In our society, people are picked for jobs on merit of their skills. No one is without work, and everyone is ex-pected to give their best and no more; we work for the good of the society as a whole. In return, no one goes want-ing for anything because the planet runs smoothly. Is this what your communism is also?’
‘Well, basically,’ Daniel agreed. ‘Unfortunately, on Earth no one ever got the system to work—there were several attempts, but the allure of power was too much for the leaders…’
Zhaél nodded knowingly. ‘We, too, encountered the problem. There was much resistance from some people who believed that the basic rights of the individual would be lost…it was many hundreds of years ago, and a number of provisions had to be made when the system was initially launched—it was not until some time afterward that so-ciety really began to become productive. At one stage there was even the fear of a global war—but the system has proved itself.’
‘How long has your society been like this?’ Daniel was starting to enter protracted cultural-discussion mode, and O’Neill could see it coming.
‘Okay, Daniel, some other time maybe?’
‘But Jack—’
‘Daniel…’
‘There is much for you to discuss among yourselves, I am sure,’ Zhaél interceded. ‘I would be most happy to continue this discussion with you tomorrow Daniel. As I mentioned, I have much work to do tonight, I am afraid.’
Daniel hid his disappointment well, but directed a dark look at O’Neill. ‘Yes, yes—of course. I’m sorry.’
‘There is no need to apologise.’ Zhaél smiled. ‘I will find an aide to bring you refreshments, and show you around the Iris facility if you wish. Feel free to explore our city also—we like our visitors to enjoy their stay.’
Sam nodded earnestly. ‘I’m sure we will, thank you.’
Daniel raised a hand. ‘Um, could I bother you for some books on your culture? I’d like to read over your his-tory.’
Zhaél smiled. ‘Of course. Your aide will provide you with everything you need.’ He bowed apologetically. ‘Please excuse me, I really must return to work.’
‘Sure—thank you.’ Daniel nodded.
Zhaél nodded and smiled. ‘What is ours is yours.’ He turned, and exited quietly through the open doorway. Jack turned to the rest of SG-1.
‘What is ours is yours?’ he recited with cynical scepticism.
‘Oh please Colonel,’ Sam reproached. ‘Why do you have to be so pessimistic about everything?’
‘Zhaél certainly seemed nice enough,’ Fraiser agreed.
‘And how often have we seen that?’ Jack asked. ‘You’ll excuse me if I reserve judgement.’ He glanced out the window. ‘I think I’m going to go and have a look around the place.’
‘Look for what Colonel?’ Sam’s voice was laced with sarcasm. ‘A hidden underground slave camp?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Don’t you think you should wait for the aide Zhaél said he’d send?’ Daniel asked.
O’Neill looked at him as if he were mad. ‘No. I hardly think the aide is going to take us to places he doesn’t want us to see.’
‘Oh for God’s sake sir—what places?’ Sam shook her head and paced over to the window. ‘Why can’t you just believe that these people are what they say they are? Are you so cynical that you don’t believe maybe another culture has managed to find a better way of living than we have?’
‘Oh, for crying out loud Carter! Since when has anyone ever been as good as they say they are?’
‘The Asguard?’ she suggested.
‘Okay, the exception to prove the rule.’
‘You know what, Colonel?’ Carter swung from the window, her eyes snapping with startling anger. ‘I think you’re jealous—you’re jealous of every culture we come across who are better than us. Even the Asguard.’
O’Neill blinked, taken aback. ‘And I think you’re outta line, Major.’ He frowned at her. ‘What’s gotten into you?’
‘Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m just sick of you always putting everything down.’ She tossed her head in a dis-tinctly uncharacteristic manner. ‘I’m going to find my own room.’ She strode to the door and was gone.
‘Anyone else think that was weird?’ O’Neill asked.
Janet frowned. ‘Is Sam okay?’
‘She’s probably just tired,’ Daniel decided. ‘Neither of us got much sleep last night—we were working on the ar-tefacts at P2X-1120 until rather late. Hammond wasn’t very pleased.’
Jack sighed. ‘Okay. Well, I’m going to deck out the city. You guys can wait for that aide if you want.’
‘I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet,’ Daniel commented.
‘Yeah, well I’m going to get out while I’m ahead.’ He made for the door. ‘I want everyone to be back here by…’ he glanced at his watch. ‘…twenty-two hundred.’
Janet and Daniel nodded. Teal’c picked up his pack from where he had dropped it on one of the beds, and turned to Jack. ‘I believe I shall accompany you O’Neill. I, too, am curious to see the city.’
‘Good to have your company Teal’c. And Fraiser—just talk to Sam and make sure she’s okay.’
‘Will do Colonel. Don’t get mugged.’
‘We’ll do our best.’ He turned and headed out the door. Teal’c turned to Daniel and Janet as he followed. ‘Woe be to the muggers.’ Then, before they could wonder if that had, perhaps, been some kind of sick joke, he was gone.

[the_Brainz]

I just realised I didn't post the blurb, so some people (if anyone actually reads Hyperbole) may be wondering about Sam's uncharacteristic behaviour. Gategeek has mentioned that he likes the idea, but I thought an explanation (of sorts) would be in order, as well as maybe piquing your interest...

Blurb

When Major Carter starts to display symptoms of irritation, leading rapidly to near-paranoid behaviour, SG-1's diplomatic mission to the Taeâb homeworld becomes an urgent test of Human-Taeâb relations; the Taeâb medical science is far in advance of Earth's. But while the Taeâb appear to be doing all they can, above and beyond the call of duty, Daniel, O'Neill and Teal'c soon realise that even this technology is insufficient to save Sam's life. The only cure to her affliction lies coded in the ancient remains of an alien artefact on P2X-1120, and the only person who can decipher the inscriptions is Doctor Jackson. With time set resolutely against him, Daniel struggles to understand a technology so far in advance of either Human or Taeâb that, even if he can translate the writings, he still might not be able to save Sam…

[the_Brainz]

Chapter Two

By the time O’Neill and Teal’c had found their way out of the Iris Facility, the sun that had washed the city in gold only minutes ago was now swallowed by the horizon, and the metropolis was lit from within by a myriad orange, blue, yellow and green hues. The passers-by as they walked were uniformly courteous, with always a smile or a nod to the newcomers in their city. If they had seen the symbol on Teal’c’s forehead before, or knew what it was, they gave no sign.
After fifteen minutes or so, Jack and Teal’c found themselves in what, at first, O’Neill assumed was an enormous plaza, but on second glance was apparently a huge highway of sorts, evidenced by the multi-tiered, hundred-metre wide roadways that climbed above ground level. Along both sides of the avenue were multiple-storeyed, glass-fronted buildings, and from the activity around them Jack guessed that they were some kind of shopping centres. As the two drew nearer, the aroma of cooking food began to pervade the air, combining into a sweetish and savagely tempting smell that spurred even Teal’c to **** his head and scent the air.
‘Just about ready for lunch, Teal’c?’ O’Neill suggested.
‘I believe it is dinner time, O’Neill.’
‘Yeah, well I get gate-lagged easily.’ He waved at what was clearly a double-storeyed restaurant. ‘You wanna see if we can find something to eat?’
‘Very well.’ Teal’c followed Jack across the massive roadway, glancing about with interest at the vehicles hum-ming by on the lanes overhead.
‘Wonder how far this highway goes?’ O’Neill wondered.
‘Possibly some distance,’ Teal’c deduced. ‘It appears to be a primary transportation conduit in this city.’ They reached the open front of the restaurant, and Jack paused for a second, surveying the interior. ‘Looks safe enough. Wonder what’s on the menu.’ He strode forward into the building, heading for the long counter behind which sev-eral men and women in bluish, casual uniforms were working.
As they approached, one of the women looked up and smiled. ‘How can I help you folks?’
‘Well, we were wondering if we need…money…to buy food here,’ O’Neill told her, feeling suddenly a little fool-ish for not having thought of this before.
‘You’re from off-world,’ she smiled. ‘No, there is no need for money here; what is ours is yours—please,’ she handed him a thin, slightly flexible square of plastic, ‘browse the menu.’
O’Neill accepted the proffered menu and glanced at it. The waitress handed another one to Teal’c with a friendly smile. The plastic was lit with writing; there were the occasional letters that he did not recognise, and some words that were unfamiliar, but he had no trouble telling the dinner from the lunch. Glancing back up at the waitress, he asked, ‘Could you recommend something?’
‘Well,’ she replied, ‘the special today is steamed tshaira with green vegetables. The tshaira is served with potato sauce and carrots, and to drink I’d recommend chilled blue wine—that would complement it nicely.’
‘Blue wine?’ O’Neill looked sceptical.
‘It’s made with a berry native to Taeâb,’ she explained. ‘Its alcohol content is quite low.’
‘How low is low?’
‘Twenty-two percent.’
‘Sheesh, don’t let me near your moonshine!’
She frowned. ‘Moonshine?’
‘Uh, nothing—Earth thing.’
‘What is this tshaira you refer to?’ Teal’c asked.
‘It’s a boneless eel farmed in the Kulai River,’ she explained. ‘Very tasty.’
‘Eel?’ O’Neill looked askance.
‘I believe I shall try some,’ Teal’c announced.
‘Teal’c?’ Teal’c turned.
‘O’Neill?’
‘Ar, what the hell.’ He gestured to the waitress. ‘Make that two.’
‘Sure. I’ll find you a table.’ She stepped out from behind the counter and led them across the room to a table facing the window, lit softly by an orb near the ceiling. ‘The tshaira will be about five or ten minutes,’ she told them. ‘I’ll bring your wine in the meantime.’
‘Thanks,’ O’Neill acknowledged, taking a seat opposite Teal’c. As the waitress turned back toward the counter, he leaned forward closer to his friend. ‘Something for nothing—does that strike you as fishy?’
Teal’c regarded him suspiciously. ‘Is that an attempt at humour?’ he asked after a second.
Jack frowned. ‘No—no!’
‘Then I do not find anything fishy in the Taeâb cultural system O’Neill. We are guests. If we were native to Taeâb we would be working, and that contribution to society would merit us a meal here without the need for money.’
Jack sighed. ‘I don’t know Teal’c. It just doesn’t seem right.’
‘Something is bothering you O’Neill,’ Teal’c stated. ‘You appear agitated.’
‘Yeah—this damned communist thing is what’s bothering me.’
‘I do not mean that.’
Jack sighed, and glanced up as the waitress returned with a tray containing two glasses and a tall bottle. Setting it down, she deftly popped the lid and poured them each a half-glass.
‘Thanks.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘If you need anything else, just call.’
‘We’ll do that.’ O’Neill returned her smile in the bland way that he had. Glancing down at the glass of bluish liquid in front of him, he waited until she had left, and picked it up. Sloshing it around, he stared into its clear depths and shook his head. ‘I dunno Teal’c. I guess I’m worried about Sam.’
‘Major Carter has been exhibiting unusual behaviour lately,’ Teal’c agreed.
‘Unusual? She’s been practically schizo. One second she’s hunky-dory and the next she’s biting my head off or ramming her fist down my throat.’ He paused. ‘Did I do something?’
‘Not that I am aware of O’Neill.’
Jack took a long draught of the wine, and blinked. ‘Burns.’ He glanced up to discover that Teal’c had already drained his glass. ‘You don’t suppose that some of that…that thing is still in her?’ he asked.
‘You refer to the electromagnetic entity which invaded Major Carter’s body.’
‘Yeah, that.’
‘I do not believe so O’Neill. There was no trace of it.’
O’Neill shook his head. ‘Yeah, I hope so Teal’c.’ Raising his glass again, he emptied the remains of its contents with a single, long pull.

·

‘Damn, is it cold in here?’ Sam turned to Daniel. ‘Are you cold?’
Daniel raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. ‘It’s cool,’ he agreed. ‘But not cold.’
‘The Facility is maintained at seven hundred and seventy-five degrees Jaliad,’ their aide, Mortoch, told her. ‘The Jaliad scale starts at absolute zero, and the boiling point of water is one thousand degrees.’
Sam blinked, and did some quick calculations in her head. ‘So that’s…roughly fifteen…sixteen degrees Celsius, she told herself.
‘Like I said,’ Daniel commented, ‘cool, but not cold. Besides, General Hammond told us that Taeâb was ten de-grees cooler than Earth.’
‘Which is why we brought heavier clothes,’ Janet agreed.
‘We are in the tropics here,’ Mortoch announced. ‘Kulai is situated directly on Taeâb’s equator; we prefer the relative warmth, although we are more resistant to the cold than most humanoid species.’
‘This is the tropics?’ Janet asked.
Mortoch nodded. ‘Yes, why?’
‘It just seems a little…well—from what you showed us of the Facility gardens it doesn’t look very tropical.’
‘Taeâb is the fourth planet from its sun,’ Mortoch told her. ‘At nearly two hundred million kilometres, even the tropics are fairly cool compared to most planets.’
‘Makes a change from P2X-1120,’ Daniel commented.
‘It got rather hot in there after we accidentally triggered the equipment,’ Sam agreed.
‘I don’t think it was just the equipment,’ Daniel mused. ‘Seems to me more like the environmental controls were set to maintain a high air temperature. Maybe whoever lived there liked the heat as much as the Taeâb like the cold.’
‘I’ll take heat any day,’ Carter decided. She glanced at her watch. ‘Eleven fifty—we were supposed to meet back with Teal’c and the Colonel at twelve hundred.’
Mortoch nodded without need for instructions. ‘I will show you the way back.’
‘Oh, that’s okay Mortoch—you’ve been more than helpful already. We can find our own way back.’
Mortoch looked dubious. ‘I would be failing in my duties if I did not accompany you,’ he protested.
‘No, really, it’s okay—we know the way back.’
‘I still feel I should accompany you,’ he replied politely.
Sam turned suddenly. ‘I said we can find our own way back!’ she snapped.
Mortoch blinked. ‘As you wish,’ he replied, clearly taken aback by Carter’s sharpness. He bowed and took a step back from the group, before turning to disappear down a side-corridor.
Janet stared at Carter. ‘Sam? Are you okay?’
Sam puckered her brows. ‘Yeah, I’m fine—why?’
‘Well, don’t you think that was a bit rude?’ Daniel ventured.
‘What—no…’ She glanced between them. ‘What?’
Janet shook her head. ‘Um…nothing—come on, let’s go.’ She put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and started off down the corridor again.
‘Janet? What did I say?’
Fraiser turned and scrutinised her. ‘You don’t remember?’
‘I uh…I was saying something about…about being able to find our own way back.’ Sam frowned. ‘I don’t…remember my exact words…’ She trailed off and looked up at Janet, her eyes expressing an abrupt and un-certain concern.
‘When was the last time you remember sleeping, Sam?’ Fraiser asked.
‘Um…about…’
‘That’s what I thought.’ She shook her head. ‘You can’t keep working so hard—you’re wearing yourself out.’
‘Look, I’m fine.’
‘You’re going to bed the second we meet back with the Colonel,’ Janet told her assertively. ‘No two ways about it.’
‘Janet—stop treating me like a child!’ Carter’s eyes flashed again.
‘Sam, listen to yourself!’
Sam paused. ‘I’m sorry. I guess I am pretty tired.’
Fraiser nodded. ‘Our quarters are just up ahead.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘The Colonel should be arriving any minute.’

[the_Brainz]

‘Good guess.’ O’Neill rounded the bend in front of them with Teal’c at his side. ‘So, how’d the tour go?’
‘The Facility is quite amazing,’ Janet replied. ‘Some of the Taeâb technology seems to be quite advanced com-pared to ours—and some of it is maybe on the same level.’
‘Their computers are incredible sir,’ Sam told him, her eyes bright with sudden enthusiasm. ‘But when it comes to the stargate, they don’t actually seem to have any more knowledge of how it works than we do, even though they figured out how to use it more than sixty years ago.’
‘Uh-huh?’
‘Well sir, the Taeâb aren’t a great deal more advanced than us—but they have spent more time developing some areas of technology to a greater extent than we have. They don’t really have many instruments we don’t when it comes to actually finding out how the stargate works.’
‘After a lot of experimentation they decided that knowing how it worked wasn’t as important as using it to ex-plore other planets,’ Daniel added. ‘The Planetary Coalition has been extremely beneficial to their world both cultur-ally and technologically.’
‘What did you find sir?’ Janet asked.
‘Well, their eel is really nice,’ O’Neill announced. ‘And I’d be guessing that the Taeâb are a tad more resistant to alcohol than we are.’
‘Sir?’
‘You went to a restaurant?’ Daniel asked quizzically.
‘I guess you didn’t find any underground slave camps then?’ Carter asked.
‘We did not,’ Teal’c informed her.
‘But they might just have been well hidden,’ Jack added a little sarcastically.
Carter stared at him.
‘Sam—you’re going to sleep now aren’t you?’ Janet prodded her lightly.
‘Yeah whatever.’ Carter shook her head, evidently a little annoyed.
‘Fraiser’s orders override even mine in medical matters, Major,’ O’Neill added. ‘And in this case, I happen to agree with her wholeheartedly.’
‘Gee, I didn’t realise I was such a bitch to be around.’ Sam lifted the corner of her upper lip, turned and made her way to the second bedroom along the hall without another word.
‘Sheesh, what has gotten into her?’ O’Neill wondered. He turned to Fraiser.
‘I don’t know sir—my guess is she’s just tired.’
‘It’s not that…electrical thing?’
Janet shook her head. ‘Not a chance sir—don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.’
O’Neill nodded, concealing whatever doubts he had. ‘Sure—I think it’s about time we all got some shut-eye…I don’t know about you, but if we’re supposed to be having negotiations tomorrow morning, I’ll be really gate-lagged if I don’t catch some sleep now.’
Fraiser nodded. ‘I agree. I’ll bunk with Sam.’
‘Would you like me to double with Teal’c, Jack?’ Daniel asked.
‘Nah, that’s all right Daniel—you can take the third room.’
Daniel nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll just collect my things from your room then.’ He disappeared into the open doorway beside them.
‘Doctor?’ O’Neill raised his eyebrows at Janet.
‘No, I’ve already moved my stuff sir.’ She waved in the direction of the second bedroom. ‘Good night.’
‘Night.’
Daniel emerged from O’Neill and Teal’c’s sleeping quarters, carrying his pack. ‘Night Jack, Teal’c.’
‘Don’t let the bugs bite Daniel.’
‘Oh, I won’t.’ He turned to follow Janet down the corridor.
O’Neill gestured to Teal’c. ‘Well Teal’c. You doing to hit the sack too?’
Teal’c inclined his head. ‘I shall.’ He let O’Neill precede him into their quarters, and tapped the small pad mounted on the wall beside the entranceway. With a gentle hum, the door concealed in the wall slid into place, and settled with a quiet thump, leaving the corridor deserted.