"Not everything. Translations often lack nuances of context. The modern version of the book is an English interpretation of a set of broken tablets, inscribed in one of the world's oldest written languages. These tablets were stored-"
"At the Iraq National Museum," John finished. "Didn't someone ever take pictures of them?"
"Of course, but the tablets are only a secondary aspect of the story. When I was undertaking research at the Museum, I came across several unusual scrolls in the archives that had never been translated. At the time, I was focused on Egyptian history, so I mostly noted the style of the text and moved on." Jackson leaned on his armrest and faced them. "It wasn't until much later that I learned to recognize lettering of that type as Ancient."
"Still sounds like a long shot," Rebecca said, making an obvious effort to bring herself back to the conversation. "For all we know it could be a laundry list."
When John snorted softly, Jackson said, "Actually, she's right. The only reason we have such an incredible picture of ancient Sumer and Babylon was because of their meticulous detailing of the utterly banal-like laundry and shopping lists." Gaze shifting to Rebecca, he added, "Which is why we're hoping McKay and his people can trace Lilith's last movements in the Pegasus Galaxy. Between that and whatever we can find in Baghdad, we should get a better idea of just what we're dealing with."
John looked at Rebecca and saw that her expression illustrated his own thoughts. Neither of them felt fully prepared to take on a plot that spanned ten thousand years and two galaxies. Even so, she was a professional investigator, and he had three years of experience with assorted Ancient ventures. By teaming up they'd be able to unravel this.
It wasn't as if they had many other options.
"You'll have to forgive me for being less than confident in Dr. McKay's investigative abilities." Rebecca leaned back against her seat.
Again, John had the vague sense that she was just making conversation while her mind was focused on something else. He reminded himself that she was a profiler; she saw the world with a completely different set of eyes than most peo ple, and through the dark-side version of rose-tinted glasses.
"Don't let his shaky social graces fool you. He's the smartest person I've ever met, and we have a lot of very smart people on Atlantis." John idly rolled the loose end of the seatbelt between his fingers. "Give him a puzzle to solve and he'll get it done, no matter what. He's just twitchy about the possibility of having Wraith genes. Biology's not his favorite field, and the thought of something being able to take over his mind-"
"Excuse me?" Rebecca paled. "What makes you think that could happen?"
"A member of my team has Wraith DNA. Probably not the same as the occurrences here on Earth, though, since her people are native to Pegasus and were subjected to Wraith experimentation."
Her lips tightened fractionally. "Experimentation?"
"To make them taste better, as it turned out. The Ancients experimented on making people less appetizing, but Lilith's recipes here on Earth seem to have featured more than a pinch of Wraith." And if the profiler hadn't been freaked out before, this would definitely do the trick. "The upshot of it all is that Teyla sometimes can make telepathic contact with the Wraith. Not too long ago a very powerful hive queen took complete control of her mind and body. It didn't last long, but add that to everything else that's been happening lately and you've got a prime Rodney McKay anxiety issue."
Rebecca didn't seem as worried as he might have expected. Or maybe she was hiding her concern by studying him. "What about you?" she said.
"You mean, am I okay with the possibility that I might have Wraith DNA?" John wasn't in the mood to tell her about his `bug for a day' episode, which had ensured that he unquestionably carried iratus DNA. Wraith DNA was a few generations removed.
He hoped.
"I can't blame Rodney for getting worked up," he con tinued. "I'm not crazy about the idea, either. At least Teyla's abilities should give us some help. And, for what it's worth, the SGC medical staff has started checking the genetic profiles of everyone in the Stargate program for any fragments of the virus."
"You're telling me you have everyone's DNA on file?"
For some reason, full security clearance or not, he wasn't sure she really needed to know the details of Carson's ATA gene therapy or the disaster formerly known as the Michael Project. He had no reason to distrust her, but while he could categorize her as a colleague, she wasn't exactly one of the team. "Let's just say that there are certain occupational hazards that even dog tags don't survive."
Changing the subject, he said, "What I don't understand is this whole ritual killing thing. If they're trying to get information, what's with the symbols? And the actions of that succubus woman on the video… she almost seemed compassionate."
Rebecca pushed a weary hand through her hair. "Even with everything I've learned today, I've got at least as many questions as I did before. Several aspects of this case still don't add up." She stifled a yawn and glanced toward the rear of the cabin. "Is there anything resembling a bed back there?"
"Should be a couple of couches in the aft compartment," Jackson replied absently. John wondered when he'd had an opportunity to travel in such style in the past. "Probably a good idea for all of us to get some sleep."
"For me it's approaching the point of necessity. I haven't seen the inside of my eyelids for a couple of continents and I have no idea how many days." The aircraft had leveled off, so Rebecca unbuckled her seat belt and stood. "Give me a few hours to clear my mind. Then I'll be ready to reexamine all the victimologies in light of this new…" She shook her head. "I don't think `evidence' covers it. Let's go with `paradigm shift."'
She walked to the back of the plane. Jackson turned on the light over his seat and pulled out one of the bulky texts he'd brought along.
John glanced over at him. "Sleep, huh?"
The other man replied without looking up. "In a while."
If that was how he wanted to spend his time, that was his prerogative, but it was late and John believed in gate lag, so a nap sounded pretty good. Since his time in the military had taught him how to fall asleep just about anywhere, he let Rebecca have the aft compartment to herself and stretched out in his seat.
The moment he closed his eyes, though, his mind turned to his teammates. Jumper Three had probably been on M1M316 for a couple of hours already. Rodney would be ordering Radek around whatever Ancient lab they'd found, while back on Atlantis Elizabeth would be working through the day's schedule. The business of the city always went on, of course. No doubt it would survive without its military commander for a while longer.
Damn it, that was a road he really didn't want to go down right now.
John pulled his BDU cap out of his pants pocket and set it over his eyes. Rebecca's need for sleep and Jackson's penchant for dusty books meant that he'd dodged the standard conversational intimacy that tended to develop on long flights, so all he had to do was focus on preparing himself for Iraq. And the only way to do that was to catch at least a little sleep.
Chapter thirteen
"Okay, let's approach this logically." Rodney took three steps back toward the Ancient facility's entrance, then slowed and veered off in another direction. "Only the gate is shielded, Lieutenant'? Your team's on the outside?"
"Yes, and so's…DHD," Bailey replied.
"Try dialing out," instructed Rodney.
"Copy that." There was a pause, and then a muffled curse. "Nothing doing, Doc."
"What about the jumper's dialer?" suggested Lome.
Rodney shook his head. "The DHD isn't the problem. The signal's obviously not getting through."