A Gift of Consolation
The rhythmic chirping, Sam decided as she walked the perimeter of their camp, was just an octave higher than the crickets on Earth. It made for an interesting counterpoint to the rather insistent hooting that occasionally sounded from the upper branches of the nearby trees, and it helped to mask the sound of the colonel's persistent snores.
She always liked the quiet of late night watches, especially when their mission had been successfully completed and they were on their way home. She wondered if she could find some discreet way to thank General Hammond for giving them such a benign, peaceful mission for SG-1's first trip back through the Stargate after the colonel's return from his black ops mission. They'd been granted a little oasis of time, with enough breathing space to help return the team to something approaching normal.
Satisfied that all was well, Sam returned to the camp. Teal'c sat cross-legged across from the fire, eyes closed and face serene. Colonel O'Neill's snuffled breathing rumbled across the clearing, and she suppressed a grin. Once again, she wondered how her CO, who slept absolutely noiselessly and practically open-eyed in times of danger, could possibly know when it was safe to snore so loudly.
Daniel still hadn't gone to sleep. She'd taken over his watch nearly twenty minutes ago, but he was still sitting up in his sleeping bag, absorbed in studying something on his laptop. She'd noticed him snatching spare moments throughout the last three days, stealing the odd minute here and there in order to concentrate on… what, exactly?
Sam decided it was time to find out.
She slung her rifle to a more comfortable position and paced toward him, watching the firelight play across his face in an intricate dance of light and shadow. He looked up and smiled as she approached, but she noted that he hastily closed the laptop.
"Hey," he greeted her quietly. "All quiet on the western front?"
"Yep." She settled down next to him, her shoulder brushing his for a moment. "Aren't you planning on getting any sleep tonight?"
"In a bit, I guess," he said vaguely. His long fingers traced invisible patterns on the laptop's cover.
She reached out and stilled his fingers, gripping them lightly. "Daniel, you almost never take a laptop off-world with you. But you've been working on this one non-stop, and I haven't seen you writing in your journal at all on this mission. Is everything all right?"
"Of course," he said, looking honestly surprised at her question. "It's just a little personal project, something I started working on before the mission."
"And do I get to see what it is?" she prodded gently.
He hesitated for a moment, then tipped her a rueful grin. "Well, to be honest, I'd planned on waiting until the day after tomorrow, but – okay, here. Come and take a look."
Sam leaned forward as he opened the laptop again and the screen glowed into life. She easily recognized the program as one of Daniel's, created to his specifications by one of the computer whiz-kids at the SGC. The writing was grouped in threes: an odd script that she didn't recognize, although she could see that it ran from right to left; nonsensical words spelled in English, which she knew must be the transliteration of the foreign script; and individual words and phrases in English, which were the results of Daniel's efforts at translation. There was little syntax in the lines of actual English text, although there didn't seem to be many empty gaps.
"You've worked through quite a lot of it already," she observed, familiar with Daniel's methods after three years of watching him work. "You say you only got this a few days before the mission? I'm impressed." She skimmed through the lines of English, then pointed to one section where the phrases were nearly coherent.
"…determination great good," she read aloud. "Or 'value,' you suggest. Most important open distribution knowledge..." She looked up. "No articles?"
"Haven't figured those out yet," he conceded. "And I really don't want to cheat and ask."
Sam's gaze had already strayed back to the intriguing words on the screen, but now she whipped her head around to stare at him. "Did you say ask?" she demanded.
Daniel blinked at her. "Er… yes?"
She jabbed an accusing finger at the foreign words on the screen, with their thick, almost blocky shapes and odd groupings. "Isn't that one of your ancient languages? Exactly who could you possibly ask about it?"
"Ah." He cleared his throat. "That one's not old, actually. Just alien." He tapped on the keyboard for a moment, bringing up a different section. "Try here, Sam."
Frowning a little, she leaned forward. Daniel's translation was much more fragmented here, the phrases riddled with alternative suggestions and question marks. She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she read.
[sense] science [prevent?denies?] superstition [angel?avatar?] comprehension
She glanced back up at him. "So?"
"So, so, so look at the transliteration."
The look of anticipation on Daniel's face puzzled her. She gave him a dubious look, then humored him, reading through the transliteration and silently mouthing the exotic syllables. The second-to-last word made her stop.
"That word. 'Shehr-MOH.' Why does it sound vaguely familiar?" she wondered aloud.
"Probably because you're the one who told me how to pronounce it," Daniel said mildly.
"I told you?" Sam stared. "Since when do I teach you how to pronounce words in foreign languages?"
His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Quantum physics terminology?" he suggested, then grinned and ducked his head as she swatted at him.
"Soft science geek," she said affectionately. "Okay, explain."
Daniel paused, studying her face. "Narim told you about it, two years ago," he finally said. "This language is Tollan."
Sam knew she was gawking. It took a conscious effort to close her mouth.
"Travell gave me a little present before she left Earth," Daniel continued, gesturing vaguely at the laptop. "She called it an apology, actually."
"Travell gave you technology?" Sam couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice. "After all that?"
"Of course not," Daniel said, sounding almost insulted. "This isn't Tollan technology, Sam! This is much more important. This is their history!" He sat up a little straighter, his gestures growing more animated. "Did you know that their society is completely open about sharing knowledge with each other? Any political discussion takes place completely in the open, and every person has access to the details of every governmental meeting. And it's not just their political system, but their science and culture, too! There's no such thing as a patent – any invention is offered, complete with detailed schematics, to the general public for instant access. Music, philosophy, art – it's all free and open. They profess themselves to be above religion, but I'd say they look at knowledge itself as a –"
"Excuse me," Sam interrupted. "This is the Tollan we're talking about, right? The ones who call us 'primitives' and threatened to cut off all ties because of Maybourne's illegal operation?"
The ones who demanded that we take care of the problem ourselves, and dumped it all in the colonel's lap, and nearly destroyed SG-1 in the process?
She looked across the fire at her sleeping CO, feeling that simmering resentment at not only the Tollan and the Asgard, but also her own military. Colonel O'Neill couldn't disobey an order by his superiors, even if it threatened to destroy their team. But the demand wouldn't have been made in the first place, if their allies hadn't insisted on secrecy. Even her genuine liking for Narim didn't allow her to feel very friendly towards the Tollans at the moment.
"Sareta, Sam," Daniel reminded her. "Narim told you about it first, right? The neighboring planet that destroyed themselves when the Tollans gave them technology? The need to share knowledge is deeply rooted in their culture, but self-preservation is a powerful impulse, too." He sighed. "I know it can feel infuriating, but Sareta blew up and actually knocked Tollan out of its original orbit, Sam. That's why they had to leave their planet in the first place."
"So they'll share knowledge with each other, but not with us," Sam said, her voice a little sour. "Explain that, then." She waved at the words glowing softly onscreen.
"It was an apology," Daniel repeated. "Travell said that she regretted the role I'd been… forced to play on Tollana." His voice stuttered a bit, and Sam nudged his shoulder again in an offer of silent comfort.
He gave her a small smile in return. "So, while she still couldn't offer Earth any technology, she said she could at least offer me what she knew I most wanted in the first place."
"Their history," Sam said quietly. "That's really quite a gift, isn't it?"
"Yes," Daniel said, his smile growing. "It's all there: their language, their recorded history, even the stories they tell their children. This is the Tollan's legacy, Sam. Not their technology and their big honkin' space guns. It's a society dedicated to the peaceful advancement of knowledge for the sake of learning more about the universe."
Sam considered for a moment, trying to imagine herself as part of a society that valued knowledge for its own sake – one that thrived on teaching and sharing that knowledge to others. "My kind of place," she murmured, feeling a little wistful.
"I know," Daniel said. "That's why I wanted to wait, Sam."
"What do you mean?"
He ducked his head a little, then shrugged. "I was hoping to get a little farther in the translation, and then show it to you the day after tomorrow."
"Because…?" A slow smile grew on her face as she realized the exact date, which meant that the day after tomorrow was –
"Because you love knowledge, Sam," he said simply. "Even if it isn't quantum physics. And I wanted to give you something special."
Daniel reached out and squeezed her hand. "I guess it'll just have to be an early present, then." He gestured grandly at the laptop. "Here you go, Major Carter. We'll have to keep working on it, of course, but… We'll have a lot of fun exploring the Tollan's legacy together, I think. Happy birthday."