The translation is a lot more elusive than I thought it would be.  Pushing my glasses up, I rub at tired eyes.  Traveling to Chicago and back in a day is not on my list of recommended field trips for this archaeologist.  At least I caught a direct flight both ways.   I don't even want to contemplate how difficult it would have been to layover somewhere.   About on par with going to the funeral of your former mentor and running into colleagues who put you in the same category with the guy who predicts Atlanteans are circling the Earth in spaceships.

A premise that doesn't seem as far-fetched as it used to.

Either of those possibilities would have been preferable to what actually did happen: finding a potential new threat to Earth in the form of two 10,000 year old artifacts with Goa'uld writing on them.

It was nice to see Sara again though.  And I think Sara was happy to see me.

"Daniel?  Are you okay?"  I jump at Sam's voice, and remember that I'm supposed to be translating, not reminiscing.

"Yeah.  Over here."

Sam comes up beside me and looks at me, her brow wrinkled in concern.  Since she picked me up at the airport, she's been hovering.  Before I left for Chicago, I had told her a little bit about Dr. Jordan and how integral he was to my past.  Since I didn't know my own father as an adult, I think I put Dr. Jordan in his place.  Same profession, about the same age my father would have been...  I hadn't been in touch with him since before that fateful lecture when Catherine recruited me.

At first it was to protect him from the fallout about my theories, later it was because I wasn't even on Earth.  For the past few years, I wanted to see him; even went as far as sending him a Christmas card.   I didn't though.  It was just too tempting.  I'm not sure I could have seen him and not mentioned the work I do.  Not the Stargate specifically, but...

Since I haven't seen him since my grad school days, many people assumed that he couldn't have meant that much to me.  Not Sam.  Sam understands.

"Daniel?" she prompts gently.  I pull myself back to the present with a shiver.  Right.  She wants an answer.

"Ah...yeah."  I heft the canopic jar and study it again.  "The symbols are a little on the, uh, flowery side.  It could be read a couple different ways."  Pursing my lips, I examine the symbols again.  --Dispelled?  Cast?  *Something* into the inner darkness--  I must have sighed again, because Sam whips out a cell phone and hands it to me.

I stare at it.  "What's this?"

"It's a telephone, Daniel."

"I know that.  I mean...why are you handing me a phone?"

"Call the Colonel."  Sam says.  "If we've found a new Goa'uld problem on Earth, he needs to be here."

Jack's on vacation; fishing in Minnesota. And he doesn't want to be disturbed...he made that perfectly clear.  I've been back just over an hour, and already I've heard from several reliable sources of Jack's grand exit. In Jack's own words he's miles from the nearest communication; unavailable, inaccessible.  In mine, he's just...not here.

"Uh, well..." I stutter.

Sam reads my unspoken worries with the ease of long practice.  "Teal'c brought a phone with him."  My eyebrows must have shot up in surprise, because she grins.  "The Colonel doesn't know.  General Hammond ordered it."  I take the phone from her hand, slowly.

"But...  Fishing...  Jack said..."

"Daniel, they wouldn't want to be left out of this.  It's too important."  She pats me on the arm.  "You're too important.  Besides, Teal'c may have a way of cutting through the flowery stuff."

"Rrright."  I know the doubt I'm feeling comes out in the word.  Maybe Jaffa can fly, too.  I look down at the numeric pad blankly.

"Hit speed dial and 9."

I do.  As I wait for the connection, I wonder what to say to Jack.  'Come back, I need you?'  'I might have found a Goa'uld at my mentor's funeral?'  Or how about 'I think my former best friend is up to no good?'

The phone rings five times before Jack's angry voice fills my ear. "WHAT?"

Not a happy sound.  That 'do not disturb' barrier is up, impenetrable.  Maybe it's better if I don't bother him.  I think of the past few weeks: Euronda, the Enkaran situation, and just a few days ago, the whole mess with the runaway Death Glider...  Jack's been through a lot recently; he really needs this downtime.

I waffle.  "Um, is Teal'c there?  Can I speak to him?"

The sarcasm comes through loud and clear as he responds.  "Yes Daniel, he's right here.  Please hold."  The last part is biting.

There is the whistling noise of wind moving across the microphone, and then Teal's calm voice comes to me across the miles.  "Daniel Jackson."

I stammer out a greeting, and an inane question about how many fish he's caught.

Teal'c's voice is even blander than usual, his non-answer an answer in itself.  "We have caught nothing.   We are fishing."  Uh, yeah, big guy.  Could it be that you're not having a lot of fun with our irritable CO?  I let none of my doubts show in my voice.  Jack's got good ears, and I don't want to give him any ammunition.  "Right.  Listen, I need a little help with a translation."  There's no response, so I go on.  "There's a line that reads 'hakor kra terak shree'."

Teal'c doesn't even hesitate.  "Banished to oblivion."  There's a little slapping sound that crackles the reception.

"Right."  That's what the flowery stuff was; not inner darkness, but oblivion.  It fits into the known mythology of Isis and Osiris.  Banished...  I wonder what *exactly* that means.

The silence on the other end of the phone seems expectant.    Oh yeah, Teal'c's still waiting.  "Okay, thank you."

The voice that comes back to me sounds almost desperate.  "If you require assistance, I will be more than happy to return to the SGC."

No, doesn't sound like he's having much fun relaxing with Jack.  But I can't pull Teal'c away without Jack having to come too.  And Jack needs this time away from the SGC.  Away from me.  Regretfully, I decline.

"No, thanks.  No, I think I can take it from here."

"Are you certain?"

I'm seriously tempted, but then I hear Jack's irritated grumble in the background.  "Give me that."  Again, the sound of the phone moving through the air, and then I hear Jack in my ear again.  "Good bye, Daniel," he says in an overly patient, speaking-to-a-lunatic sort of voice.  Suddenly, I do want them here.  If there is another Goau'ld or two hiding out on Earth, we could use all the help we can get.  I swallow my pride.

"Uh no, wait uh..."  The phone connection terminates with a click.  I glare at the phone and hit redial.  Jack thinks he can just cut me off without listening, does he?

**The cellular caller you have reached is out of range or...**

Holding out the phone, I stare at it as the automated voice drones on.

I guess he can.
 

Fin