Scion
By Kalimyre
Email: kalimyreyahoo.com
Series: Part One of the Scion Series
Rating: R
Pairings: Jack/Daniel
Category: Established relationship, Drama, Angst, H/C
Season: Seven
Spoilers: Fragile Balance, Absolute Power, minor for others up to season seven
Warnings: Suggestions of child abuse, nothing specific
Summary: Ever wonder what it would be like to meet yourself as a child? Daniel is about to find out.
Notes: Thanks to Mamabeast for the great beta work, and to my own kids for the inspiration. This story lays the groundwork for further stories in the series, but can stand alone.
Part 1
Daniel frowns as he walks through the gate, leaving a trail of dust from BDU pants that are almost completely brown from the knees down. He's got his jaw sticking out and his brow furrowed, and his whole sunburned face says 'there better be a damn good reason for this.'
"Daniel."
He looks at me, stopping to stand in front of me at the foot of the ramp. "Jack," he says neutrally. Daniel doesn't get as much time to be an archeologist as he would like, and he's clearly not happy about being recalled early.
"Skip the infirmary for now," I say, steering him toward the briefing room. "You'll be going there soon enough."
He raises his eyebrows but says nothing, traipsing obediently along behind me with a distinct air of 'I'm humoring you but don't expect that to last.'
"Doctor Jackson."
"General," he says, nodding once. "Hi Sam, Teal'c," he greets the others. Carter smiles at him, but it's a tight, nervous smile, and he eyes her warily. He rubs at his hair distractedly, sending a little sand flying. When Daniel digs, he really gets into it, and it really gets into him. I can see dust collected in little wells on the cuffs of his sleeves and in the creases around his hips, and a long smudge across one cheek. His ears, where he always forgets to put sun block, are red and peeling.
I sit down and he follows suit, absently gulping the water I put in front of him. Everyone stares at him and he keeps shifting his eyes to the side and fidgeting uncomfortably. More sand trickles onto the table as he ducks his head, obviously wondering why he's the center of attention.
"Sorry to cut your mission with SG-11 short, Doctor," the general begins. "Something came up that requires your... input."
"Uh-huh," he says slowly. "What's that?"
I lean back in my chair and try for that ever so slight air of boredom that I usually wear in the briefing room. "You remember the fat, furry blue guys that looked like tie-dyed ewoks with all the bio tech that they wouldn't share with us?"
Daniel blinks at me. "Ye-es... and Jack, the indigenous population of P2R- 447 wasn't exactly blue, at least most of them. And besides, they did share a little bit. They gave us those great anti-viral compounds that Janet was so excited about."
"Well, now they want to give us something else."
"Oh?" he asks. "What's that?"
I pass the puck to Carter with a look, and she frowns but takes it up gamely. "They liked you, remember that, Daniel?"
He shrugs. "Only because I was the only one who could speak the language."
Teal'c leans forward, his hands loosely clasped on the table in front of him. "That is not so, Daniel Jackson. They were, in fact, capable of English, but they chose not to speak it. We now believe this was a test."
"Oh?" he asks. "How do you know that?"
"The..." The general hesitates, because the name these guys go by is unpronounceable, even by Daniel, and then he says, "The inhabitants of 447 paid us a visit while you were off-world. They spoke quite clearly, and they asked for you."
Daniel brightens, the questions already whirling behind his eyes. "They did? What did they want? You said they wanted to give us something else, is it more medical technology? Janet said the anti-viral medications could lead to some amazing breakthroughs and from what we saw of their surgical techniques—"
"Daniel."
He frowns at me. "What?"
I look at Carter again, and she grimaces. "Um, Daniel... they didn't give us medicine or technology. They gave us a... person."
"A person."
"He is, in fact, a child," Teal'c says. "A small boy."
Daniel leans back in his chair, closing his arms in front of his chest. He knows we're leading up to something here, and his fingers start to fiddle nervously with the material of his shirt. "I see..." he says slowly. "A human child?"
"Oh, yes," I say. "As human as they come."
"But they're aliens."
"Right," I tell him. Daniel, smart man that he is, stares at me and shakes his head slightly. I get the feeling he doesn't want to go where we're taking him.
"So how did they...?"
"It appears that they made a clone of you without your knowledge, Doctor Jackson," Hammond says gently. "Dr. Fraiser is running tests right now, but I must say that even without the proof offered by a blood test, the physical resemblance is quite obvious."
"A clone. Of me." Daniel swallows and starts cleaning his glasses on his shirt, staring down at his hands. "Uh... why me?"
He looks blown away, his mouth half open and his breathing taking off. Pretty much how I felt when they laid the kid on us yesterday. I mean, no matter what, this child will be a big part of Daniel's life, and he's a big part of my life, and this is too much and too fast to deal with. Better to laugh it off than try to face it all at once, so I grin at him. "They liked you."
Carter gives me a slightly exasperated look. "It's how they explore other races," she says earnestly. "Kind of like the way Urgo was implanted into our brains so his parent race could understand us better. The people of 447 make clones of any visitors that catch their interest, and then study the clones until they gain a full understanding of the new species."
"But... but..." Daniel swallows and runs a hand over his face. "But they would only learn physiological details by studying a human body. That wouldn't be anywhere near understanding humanity as a whole."
"Which is why they clone the mind as well as the body."
He stares at Carter for a long moment. "What? I mean, um... what?"
"I don't know how they did it, but it's hardly unprecedented," she says. "Harlan managed to make perfect copies of our minds for the robot doubles, and the Asgard made a copy of Colonel O'Neill's mind for the teenage clone. Somehow, in the process of replicating your body, they've also managed to keep your mind."
"Wait," Daniel says. "You said the clone was a child. A small boy. You're saying he has my mind, but in a child's body?"
"Not according to the aliens," Hammond tells him. "They said that the body and mind are at the same level of development, and we're assuming that means that the clone has your memories and knowledge up to the age that he now appears, but nothing past that."
"Have you asked the boy himself?"
We all exchange uncomfortable looks. "He will not speak to us," Teal'c says simply.
"Oh." Daniel raps his fingers against the tabletop in rapid succession, pursing his lips. "Oh. As in... not speaking at all?"
"Yep," I say. "Not a word. He won't even nod or shake his head for yes or no questions. Frankly, we're not sure he speaks the language."
"He should." Daniel turns this over and over in his mind now, worrying at the problem like a dog with a bone. "Even if his knowledge only comes up to age seven or eight, he should speak English just fine. That, and a few others."
"Well, technically he is only a few months old," Carter interjects. "It's obvious that they used some kind of accelerated growth technology on him, but they might have been wrong about his mental development. Although they said specifically that he had your memories—"
"Oh!" Daniel says suddenly. "My memories... and you said he was seven? And not talking? That could be... uh... not a language problem, per se, but more of a different... issue."
I raise one eyebrow, trying to catch his eyes, which look everywhere but at me. "Issue?"
"Are they still here?" he dodges.
"No," Hammond replies. "They came yesterday, right through the iris, I might add, brought the boy with a quick explanation, and left."
"Oh." He's tugging his lower lip between his teeth again, his eyebrows low and tight together. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to rationalize this, to dissect it and break it into little, manageable pieces that aren't so huge and overwhelming as suddenly being handed a child. "Is that normal?" he asks. "I mean... do they normally do this with their clones?"
Carter shakes her head, her mouth set in a grim line. "No, normally once they have learned all they need to know about a particular race, the clone is destroyed." This, more than anything else about the situation, seems to upset Carter. That they would just throw away the lives they had created once they no longer held a practical value. She was really pissed with the aliens yesterday when they told us this, and after they left, she started off on a kick about scientists playing god and using sentient beings like lab rats and so forth. Carter couldn't deliver her heated lecture about ethical research while the aliens were still here—wouldn't do to piss of the potential allies with he hot technology, no matter how much she didn't like their methods—but Teal'c made a point of standing between the kid and the aliens, and looking forbidding. He has this way of saying a lot without speaking at all.
Carter gives Daniel a moment to digest the fact that the kid was made to die, and then goes on. "However, apparently they learned from him how highly we value each individual life, and so they brought him here to give us the opportunity to save him. If we had turned him away, they would have followed normal procedure."
"And killed him."
"Yes," she says. "Exactly."
Daniel makes a not-quite-laugh and rubs a hand over his face. "Some choice."
"Which is why he's currently down in the infirmary, being poked and prodded by Fraiser," I say. "Although I'm with the general on this one, Daniel. The kid looks exactly like you."
"He's actually very cute," Carter says, coloring a bit under Daniel's glare.
"So, um, now that we have him, what happens next?" he asks.
Nobody has an answer for that one. Luckily, the doc saves us from an uncomfortable silence by sweeping into the briefing room, a sheaf of papers in hand and her eyes firmly fixed on Daniel.
"Daniel," she says.
"Janet. How is... um..."
"We're calling him Danny for now," she says gently. "I see the others have filled you in."
"Yeah. Is he... me?"
"Genetically, yes. He's a perfect match, right down to the fingerprints, the allergies, and the poor vision." She smiles warmly at him as she sits down, riffling through her papers. She nods at the general, and he waves at her to continue. "Physically, he's in perfect condition," she tells us. "Absolutely perfect. He has no scars, no marks of any kind, and, interestingly enough, no appendix or tonsils. I find it odd that the aliens incorporated your physical ailments, like the high histamine levels and the nearsightedness, but left out the unnecessary organs. Also, his teeth are straight out of a dental textbook. He has all his adult teeth already except for the rear molars, which wouldn't fit. They're in perfect alignment and in pristine condition."
"And the accelerated aging?" Daniel asks.
Fraiser shrugs and spreads her hands. "I'm not sure how they did it, but there are no signs of nano-technology or any foreign elements in his system. After the experience with the Asgaard and Colonel O'Neill's clone, we were concerned that the boy might have some of the same problems, but he's not showing any of the instability that the other clone had. Except for the odd thing with his teeth and the missing unneeded organs, he's a perfectly healthy, normal human boy."
"Oh."
The doc sweeps us all with a quick, interrogative look, and we shrug at her collectively. If she's asking how Daniel is doing with all this, I don't have the first clue. He's clearly rattled, but he's playing this one very close to the vest.
"Son, we called you back because we hoped you'd be able to speak to the boy," Hammond says gently. "His behavior... well, frankly, he seems traumatized, and we thought you might know the right things to say."
Daniel takes a long, slow breath and closes his eyes for a moment. "If he is me, mentally I mean, then the aliens picked a bad time to stop his growth. Seven was... not a good year."
"How's that?" I ask, trying for idle curiosity and failing miserably.
"Um... well, my parents died shortly before my seventh birthday. While I waited for the system to track Nick down and get him to come resolve my status, I was in this temporary facility with a lot of other kids who had been newly placed in the state's custody. It took a year for Nick to come, and in the meantime, I couldn't be placed in foster homes because I was considered... um... special needs."
I narrow my eyes. "Which means...?"
He shrugs diffidently. "They thought I had some kind of mental problem. You know, because of seeing the accident, and then the whole... um..."
"The whole what?"
Daniel frowns at me. "Never mind. I'd really rather not get into it, and besides, it's not relevant."
"If this child is refusing to speak because of something that you know about, it is relevant," Fraiser says. "If we know what's wrong, we have a much better chance of helping him."
Daniel's mouth twists into something like a smile. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He shakes his head and takes another deep breath. "Sorry. I'm sure you mean well, but nothing you say to him will work. You're not speaking the right language."
Carter immediately leans forward in her seat, her head cocked to one side. "But you said he should speak English."
"He does, but he speaks a few others as well, and the one that will reach him isn't English. Remember, at this age, America is very new to him. He's spent his life in Egypt."
"We tried Arabic," I argue. I'm not going to tell him that I'm the one who tried it. Daniel seems to think I spent twenty years in covert military operations all over the world without picking up any other languages, and I don't feel like disabusing him of the notion. If he knew how well I could actually speak, I'd never be able to steer him away from the foreign film section in the video store.
"Not Arabic," Daniel says. "There's another language. One that is guaranteed to get his attention."
"So what is it?" the general asks.
Daniel cleans his glasses again, probably scratching the hell out of the lenses on his dusty shirt. "I, ah... I kind of made up a language when I was a kid."
I feel my eyebrows head for the ceiling. "You made up a language? God, Daniel, were you ever not a genius?"
"It wasn't like that," he says defensively. "Kids make up secret codes all the time, for... you know, clubs and stuff." He waves a hand vaguely, as if us normal people who had actual childhoods should understand what he means. "I just took it further. And really, it's not entirely original, just adapted from Greek and Latin roots, like nearly all languages of western civilization today. I changed the pronunciation and added a few words of my own creation and devised a set of symbols for the letters and there you go. My own language. I still use it for my personal journals."
"Daniel," I say dryly, "when you said you spoke twenty-three different languages, I knew at least a few of them had to be made up."
"I don't include my personal language in that count," he says primly. Then he blinks and smiles weakly as he realizes I was kidding.
Carter quickly warms to this idea. "So if you speak to the boy in your language, a language that he believes nobody else speaks, it should get his attention."
"I'm hoping so," Daniel replies. "I didn't talk for nearly a year after the museum, but there were... extenuating circumstances that contributed to that. Hopefully we'll be able to reach him much sooner."
"Extenuating circumstances?" I ask. "Such as?"
He darts his eyes sideways to me and then ducks his head. "Nothing important."
Uh-huh. I'll let this go for now, in front of the others, but don't you dare think this is over, Daniel. Didn't talk for a year? Jesus. Knowing how Daniel loves to talk, I can't imagine what would do that to him.
Daniel stands and dusts his hands together briskly. "So," he says. "Shouldn't I go try and talk to him?"
Hammond seems a little surprised, but goes with the flow easily enough, giving Daniel permission to leave. The rest of us trail after him, trading long looks back and forth. This is bound to be interesting.
By Kalimyre
Email: kalimyreyahoo.com
Series: Part One of the Scion Series
Rating: R
Pairings: Jack/Daniel
Category: Established relationship, Drama, Angst, H/C
Season: Seven
Spoilers: Fragile Balance, Absolute Power, minor for others up to season seven
Warnings: Suggestions of child abuse, nothing specific
Summary: Ever wonder what it would be like to meet yourself as a child? Daniel is about to find out.
Notes: Thanks to Mamabeast for the great beta work, and to my own kids for the inspiration. This story lays the groundwork for further stories in the series, but can stand alone.
Part 1
Daniel frowns as he walks through the gate, leaving a trail of dust from BDU pants that are almost completely brown from the knees down. He's got his jaw sticking out and his brow furrowed, and his whole sunburned face says 'there better be a damn good reason for this.'
"Daniel."
He looks at me, stopping to stand in front of me at the foot of the ramp. "Jack," he says neutrally. Daniel doesn't get as much time to be an archeologist as he would like, and he's clearly not happy about being recalled early.
"Skip the infirmary for now," I say, steering him toward the briefing room. "You'll be going there soon enough."
He raises his eyebrows but says nothing, traipsing obediently along behind me with a distinct air of 'I'm humoring you but don't expect that to last.'
"Doctor Jackson."
"General," he says, nodding once. "Hi Sam, Teal'c," he greets the others. Carter smiles at him, but it's a tight, nervous smile, and he eyes her warily. He rubs at his hair distractedly, sending a little sand flying. When Daniel digs, he really gets into it, and it really gets into him. I can see dust collected in little wells on the cuffs of his sleeves and in the creases around his hips, and a long smudge across one cheek. His ears, where he always forgets to put sun block, are red and peeling.
I sit down and he follows suit, absently gulping the water I put in front of him. Everyone stares at him and he keeps shifting his eyes to the side and fidgeting uncomfortably. More sand trickles onto the table as he ducks his head, obviously wondering why he's the center of attention.
"Sorry to cut your mission with SG-11 short, Doctor," the general begins. "Something came up that requires your... input."
"Uh-huh," he says slowly. "What's that?"
I lean back in my chair and try for that ever so slight air of boredom that I usually wear in the briefing room. "You remember the fat, furry blue guys that looked like tie-dyed ewoks with all the bio tech that they wouldn't share with us?"
Daniel blinks at me. "Ye-es... and Jack, the indigenous population of P2R- 447 wasn't exactly blue, at least most of them. And besides, they did share a little bit. They gave us those great anti-viral compounds that Janet was so excited about."
"Well, now they want to give us something else."
"Oh?" he asks. "What's that?"
I pass the puck to Carter with a look, and she frowns but takes it up gamely. "They liked you, remember that, Daniel?"
He shrugs. "Only because I was the only one who could speak the language."
Teal'c leans forward, his hands loosely clasped on the table in front of him. "That is not so, Daniel Jackson. They were, in fact, capable of English, but they chose not to speak it. We now believe this was a test."
"Oh?" he asks. "How do you know that?"
"The..." The general hesitates, because the name these guys go by is unpronounceable, even by Daniel, and then he says, "The inhabitants of 447 paid us a visit while you were off-world. They spoke quite clearly, and they asked for you."
Daniel brightens, the questions already whirling behind his eyes. "They did? What did they want? You said they wanted to give us something else, is it more medical technology? Janet said the anti-viral medications could lead to some amazing breakthroughs and from what we saw of their surgical techniques—"
"Daniel."
He frowns at me. "What?"
I look at Carter again, and she grimaces. "Um, Daniel... they didn't give us medicine or technology. They gave us a... person."
"A person."
"He is, in fact, a child," Teal'c says. "A small boy."
Daniel leans back in his chair, closing his arms in front of his chest. He knows we're leading up to something here, and his fingers start to fiddle nervously with the material of his shirt. "I see..." he says slowly. "A human child?"
"Oh, yes," I say. "As human as they come."
"But they're aliens."
"Right," I tell him. Daniel, smart man that he is, stares at me and shakes his head slightly. I get the feeling he doesn't want to go where we're taking him.
"So how did they...?"
"It appears that they made a clone of you without your knowledge, Doctor Jackson," Hammond says gently. "Dr. Fraiser is running tests right now, but I must say that even without the proof offered by a blood test, the physical resemblance is quite obvious."
"A clone. Of me." Daniel swallows and starts cleaning his glasses on his shirt, staring down at his hands. "Uh... why me?"
He looks blown away, his mouth half open and his breathing taking off. Pretty much how I felt when they laid the kid on us yesterday. I mean, no matter what, this child will be a big part of Daniel's life, and he's a big part of my life, and this is too much and too fast to deal with. Better to laugh it off than try to face it all at once, so I grin at him. "They liked you."
Carter gives me a slightly exasperated look. "It's how they explore other races," she says earnestly. "Kind of like the way Urgo was implanted into our brains so his parent race could understand us better. The people of 447 make clones of any visitors that catch their interest, and then study the clones until they gain a full understanding of the new species."
"But... but..." Daniel swallows and runs a hand over his face. "But they would only learn physiological details by studying a human body. That wouldn't be anywhere near understanding humanity as a whole."
"Which is why they clone the mind as well as the body."
He stares at Carter for a long moment. "What? I mean, um... what?"
"I don't know how they did it, but it's hardly unprecedented," she says. "Harlan managed to make perfect copies of our minds for the robot doubles, and the Asgard made a copy of Colonel O'Neill's mind for the teenage clone. Somehow, in the process of replicating your body, they've also managed to keep your mind."
"Wait," Daniel says. "You said the clone was a child. A small boy. You're saying he has my mind, but in a child's body?"
"Not according to the aliens," Hammond tells him. "They said that the body and mind are at the same level of development, and we're assuming that means that the clone has your memories and knowledge up to the age that he now appears, but nothing past that."
"Have you asked the boy himself?"
We all exchange uncomfortable looks. "He will not speak to us," Teal'c says simply.
"Oh." Daniel raps his fingers against the tabletop in rapid succession, pursing his lips. "Oh. As in... not speaking at all?"
"Yep," I say. "Not a word. He won't even nod or shake his head for yes or no questions. Frankly, we're not sure he speaks the language."
"He should." Daniel turns this over and over in his mind now, worrying at the problem like a dog with a bone. "Even if his knowledge only comes up to age seven or eight, he should speak English just fine. That, and a few others."
"Well, technically he is only a few months old," Carter interjects. "It's obvious that they used some kind of accelerated growth technology on him, but they might have been wrong about his mental development. Although they said specifically that he had your memories—"
"Oh!" Daniel says suddenly. "My memories... and you said he was seven? And not talking? That could be... uh... not a language problem, per se, but more of a different... issue."
I raise one eyebrow, trying to catch his eyes, which look everywhere but at me. "Issue?"
"Are they still here?" he dodges.
"No," Hammond replies. "They came yesterday, right through the iris, I might add, brought the boy with a quick explanation, and left."
"Oh." He's tugging his lower lip between his teeth again, his eyebrows low and tight together. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to rationalize this, to dissect it and break it into little, manageable pieces that aren't so huge and overwhelming as suddenly being handed a child. "Is that normal?" he asks. "I mean... do they normally do this with their clones?"
Carter shakes her head, her mouth set in a grim line. "No, normally once they have learned all they need to know about a particular race, the clone is destroyed." This, more than anything else about the situation, seems to upset Carter. That they would just throw away the lives they had created once they no longer held a practical value. She was really pissed with the aliens yesterday when they told us this, and after they left, she started off on a kick about scientists playing god and using sentient beings like lab rats and so forth. Carter couldn't deliver her heated lecture about ethical research while the aliens were still here—wouldn't do to piss of the potential allies with he hot technology, no matter how much she didn't like their methods—but Teal'c made a point of standing between the kid and the aliens, and looking forbidding. He has this way of saying a lot without speaking at all.
Carter gives Daniel a moment to digest the fact that the kid was made to die, and then goes on. "However, apparently they learned from him how highly we value each individual life, and so they brought him here to give us the opportunity to save him. If we had turned him away, they would have followed normal procedure."
"And killed him."
"Yes," she says. "Exactly."
Daniel makes a not-quite-laugh and rubs a hand over his face. "Some choice."
"Which is why he's currently down in the infirmary, being poked and prodded by Fraiser," I say. "Although I'm with the general on this one, Daniel. The kid looks exactly like you."
"He's actually very cute," Carter says, coloring a bit under Daniel's glare.
"So, um, now that we have him, what happens next?" he asks.
Nobody has an answer for that one. Luckily, the doc saves us from an uncomfortable silence by sweeping into the briefing room, a sheaf of papers in hand and her eyes firmly fixed on Daniel.
"Daniel," she says.
"Janet. How is... um..."
"We're calling him Danny for now," she says gently. "I see the others have filled you in."
"Yeah. Is he... me?"
"Genetically, yes. He's a perfect match, right down to the fingerprints, the allergies, and the poor vision." She smiles warmly at him as she sits down, riffling through her papers. She nods at the general, and he waves at her to continue. "Physically, he's in perfect condition," she tells us. "Absolutely perfect. He has no scars, no marks of any kind, and, interestingly enough, no appendix or tonsils. I find it odd that the aliens incorporated your physical ailments, like the high histamine levels and the nearsightedness, but left out the unnecessary organs. Also, his teeth are straight out of a dental textbook. He has all his adult teeth already except for the rear molars, which wouldn't fit. They're in perfect alignment and in pristine condition."
"And the accelerated aging?" Daniel asks.
Fraiser shrugs and spreads her hands. "I'm not sure how they did it, but there are no signs of nano-technology or any foreign elements in his system. After the experience with the Asgaard and Colonel O'Neill's clone, we were concerned that the boy might have some of the same problems, but he's not showing any of the instability that the other clone had. Except for the odd thing with his teeth and the missing unneeded organs, he's a perfectly healthy, normal human boy."
"Oh."
The doc sweeps us all with a quick, interrogative look, and we shrug at her collectively. If she's asking how Daniel is doing with all this, I don't have the first clue. He's clearly rattled, but he's playing this one very close to the vest.
"Son, we called you back because we hoped you'd be able to speak to the boy," Hammond says gently. "His behavior... well, frankly, he seems traumatized, and we thought you might know the right things to say."
Daniel takes a long, slow breath and closes his eyes for a moment. "If he is me, mentally I mean, then the aliens picked a bad time to stop his growth. Seven was... not a good year."
"How's that?" I ask, trying for idle curiosity and failing miserably.
"Um... well, my parents died shortly before my seventh birthday. While I waited for the system to track Nick down and get him to come resolve my status, I was in this temporary facility with a lot of other kids who had been newly placed in the state's custody. It took a year for Nick to come, and in the meantime, I couldn't be placed in foster homes because I was considered... um... special needs."
I narrow my eyes. "Which means...?"
He shrugs diffidently. "They thought I had some kind of mental problem. You know, because of seeing the accident, and then the whole... um..."
"The whole what?"
Daniel frowns at me. "Never mind. I'd really rather not get into it, and besides, it's not relevant."
"If this child is refusing to speak because of something that you know about, it is relevant," Fraiser says. "If we know what's wrong, we have a much better chance of helping him."
Daniel's mouth twists into something like a smile. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He shakes his head and takes another deep breath. "Sorry. I'm sure you mean well, but nothing you say to him will work. You're not speaking the right language."
Carter immediately leans forward in her seat, her head cocked to one side. "But you said he should speak English."
"He does, but he speaks a few others as well, and the one that will reach him isn't English. Remember, at this age, America is very new to him. He's spent his life in Egypt."
"We tried Arabic," I argue. I'm not going to tell him that I'm the one who tried it. Daniel seems to think I spent twenty years in covert military operations all over the world without picking up any other languages, and I don't feel like disabusing him of the notion. If he knew how well I could actually speak, I'd never be able to steer him away from the foreign film section in the video store.
"Not Arabic," Daniel says. "There's another language. One that is guaranteed to get his attention."
"So what is it?" the general asks.
Daniel cleans his glasses again, probably scratching the hell out of the lenses on his dusty shirt. "I, ah... I kind of made up a language when I was a kid."
I feel my eyebrows head for the ceiling. "You made up a language? God, Daniel, were you ever not a genius?"
"It wasn't like that," he says defensively. "Kids make up secret codes all the time, for... you know, clubs and stuff." He waves a hand vaguely, as if us normal people who had actual childhoods should understand what he means. "I just took it further. And really, it's not entirely original, just adapted from Greek and Latin roots, like nearly all languages of western civilization today. I changed the pronunciation and added a few words of my own creation and devised a set of symbols for the letters and there you go. My own language. I still use it for my personal journals."
"Daniel," I say dryly, "when you said you spoke twenty-three different languages, I knew at least a few of them had to be made up."
"I don't include my personal language in that count," he says primly. Then he blinks and smiles weakly as he realizes I was kidding.
Carter quickly warms to this idea. "So if you speak to the boy in your language, a language that he believes nobody else speaks, it should get his attention."
"I'm hoping so," Daniel replies. "I didn't talk for nearly a year after the museum, but there were... extenuating circumstances that contributed to that. Hopefully we'll be able to reach him much sooner."
"Extenuating circumstances?" I ask. "Such as?"
He darts his eyes sideways to me and then ducks his head. "Nothing important."
Uh-huh. I'll let this go for now, in front of the others, but don't you dare think this is over, Daniel. Didn't talk for a year? Jesus. Knowing how Daniel loves to talk, I can't imagine what would do that to him.
Daniel stands and dusts his hands together briskly. "So," he says. "Shouldn't I go try and talk to him?"
Hammond seems a little surprised, but goes with the flow easily enough, giving Daniel permission to leave. The rest of us trail after him, trading long looks back and forth. This is bound to be interesting.