Reckoning Night

Chapter 3

It was well past dinner time now, and Daniel still hadn't shown up. They had eaten without him, but no one had enjoyed the meal. With an apology to Dr Smith, the team went back to the hotel. Jack was hoping to find him in their room, immersed in a book that had distracted him, oblivious to the time and everything around him.

"Maybe he ran into the Goa'uld." Carter said precisely the one thing Jack did *not* want to hear. It was taking them too damn long to get to the hotel. They should have taken a cab.

Teal'c seemed to have read his thoughts. "If we take the more direct route through the ways between these buildings, we will arrive much sooner."

Without much hesitation, Jack agreed to the plan. They were following the main street around numerous blocks of houses, and could as well take the short cut through the alleyways. Surely no one would mind.

The high walls on both sides made the alleys more gloomy and dark than they already were. Jack didn't see the body until Sam nearly tripped over an arm. She visibly recoiled. "Oh my god."

Jack knelt down beside the prone figure to get a better look at his face. He felt an immense load slip from his shoulders. It was not Daniel. He quickly felt for the man's pulse. "Dead." He noticed the dried blood on the ground under his neck. And sure enough, there was a gaping wound on the back of his neck, but it was no longer oozing blood. The man must have been dead for quite a while.

"Goa'uld?" Carter said when she saw the wound as well.

"Looks like it."

"It appears the symbiote has found a new host," Teal'c remarked, stating the obvious. They all looked at each other, the unspoken thought hanging between them. Not Daniel, please not Daniel.

Jack got to his feet. "We don't need another police investigation here, it's too risky because of the Goa'uld involvement."

"We should inform General Hammond," Teal'c said.

Jack nodded. "That's what I'm going to do. Maybe he can send someone to identify the man."

"He has a wallet, sir," Carter said, looking inside for an ID. "Looks like he was American, too. Philip Blake."

Jack called Hammond on his cell phone and told him about Daniel's disappearance and the body they had found, with the result that Hammond instructed them to keep watch over the body until he had found someone to take care of it. Jack didn't like that part at all. He didn't want to be further delayed.

"Sir, I'll stay here and you and Teal'c go look for Daniel," Carter offered. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," she added when Jack hesitated. But his concern for Daniel won, and he agreed. He walked with Teal'c the rest of the way back to the hotel.

Jack was sure the huge black motorcycle that was parked in front of the entrance hadn't been there before. Strangely enough, the police cars were gone. And so were the policemen that had been swarming through the building this morning. Curious, Jack asked the receptionist why they were gone already.

"What policemen?" The receptionist looked at him quizzically.

"They were here because of the murder."

The receptionist looked at him as if he had lost his marbles. "What murder?"

Jack sighed. "Nevermind." Something strange was going on, of that he was sure. It was unlikely that the murderer had just walked up to the police and confessed everything.

They went to their room without meeting a single officer. However, they didn't find Daniel, either. He wasn't in their room, and they checked Carter's room as well, just to be sure. The yellow tape on room number 119 had been removed, too.

Jack was scrutinizing their room once again. "Something is off here, I just can't put my finger on it."

"Someone was here," Teal'c remarked in such an offhand way that Jack could have strangled him for not mentioning this sooner.

"How do you know that?" Jack prompted, when Teal'c didn't elaborate.

"The table has been moved by a few inches. Daniel Jackson's magazine clipping was originally left on his nightstand, not the drawer. The window was open when we left."

The instant Teal'c mentioned the changes, Jack realized that this was exactly what had felt "off" to him. Now it seemed so obvious to him that he wondered how he could have overlooked it. They quickly checked their belongings, but it appeared nothing had been stolen, not even Daniel's expensive digital camcorder.

"Why would someone enter our room, rearrange objects and furniture, and leave without taking anything?" Jack thought out loud.

"Perhaps he was looking for something."

Jack nodded, not fully convinced. First the murder, then the artefact and later Daniel disappearing, the absent policemen, and now strange goings-on in their own hotel room. If Jack had believed in ghosts, he would have been sure this place was haunted.

A sudden knock on the door nearly made him jump. Great, his nerves were already on the edge. He convinced himself that ghosts wouldn't bother knocking on a door, but rather walk right through it if they wanted to get on the other side, so he went to open it.

He found himself facing two men he had never seen before; they both looked like they were somewhere in their thirties, but Jack couldn't tell if the lines that were marking their faces were caused by experience or age. The man standing to the left had light brown hair that was streaked with grey, and was dressed in a worn t-shirt and matching jeans. The other one with his black leather outfit and shoulder-length black hair clearly belonged to the motorcycle that was parked outside.

"Good evening," said the first one. "Please excuse the interruption, but we need to ask you some questions. My name is Remus Lupin and this is Sirius Black."

"Hello," Jack said warily, not sure what to make of this. The two seemed to be as British as everyone else around here, and yet there was something ... odd, as if they didn't *quite* fit into society, and yet managed to disguise that fact well. Jack introduced himself and Teal'c; a bit of politeness couldn't hurt, especially when you were in a foreign country. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

"We'd like to know if you have seen or heard anything of the murder that happened last night in room 119," said Black.

So there *was* someone else who still remembered about the murder, after all. With all the strange things going on, Jack would not have been surprised if they had all imagined it in some weird sort of mass-hallucination. But if these two were the only ones who did know about the murder besides him and his teammates, *who* the hell were they?

"Are you from the police?" Jack asked, still cautious. They didn't look like anyone who was associated with the police, not even the British one.

"Uhm, no, we're ... special investigators," Black explained, and Lupin nodded as if to back up his claim. They couldn't have been any more unconvincing.

"I hate to disappoint you, but we heard nothing, saw nothing, and know nothing. Sorry for wasting your time."

Jack was about to close the door, when, to his surprise, Teal'c stopped him. "We have an inquiry as well. We are looking for our friend, who has mysteriously vanished. Have you noticed any strange activities, a fight, perhaps, or someone breaking into our quarters?"

Black and Lupin looked at each other. "Nope," said Lupin quickly. Almost too quickly.

Of course. Maybe the team shouldn't be the only ones who were answering questions all the time, and with all the strange things that were going on here, they could as well throw alien parasites into the mix, security be damned. "You are sure you haven't seen anyone acting ... odd around here? Glowing eyes, hollow voice, that kinda stuff?" Jack asked.

There was that look again -- the brief spark of recognition in Lupin's eyes. This couldn't be, could it? For someone to have actually seen the Goa'uld they were looking for, and they just happened to be knocking on their door?

Jack tried to jog their memories a bit more. "Maybe someone who is suddenly behaving like a power-hungry maniac? Trying to make people believe he's a god, trying to take over the world?" Okay, that was a little ambitious for a short-term goal of a Goa'uld, but it was worth a shot.

Lupin and Black gave each other this meaningful look again. Lupin finally said, "Trust me, if there really is someone like that, you would better not get involved with him, and maybe you should keep your noses out of it because it could have a very nasty ending, especially for your kind."

This time it was Jack's turn to exchange a look with Teal'c, whose raised eyebrow mirrored Jack's own. Your kind? What was that supposed to mean?

"Uh, we should go now, see you some other time," said Black suddenly, walking towards the stairs before Jack or Teal'c could object, pulling his surprised friend with him. Jack watched them disappear with a scowl, then turned to Teal'c.

"Didn't you get that sneaking suspicion these two know more than they let on?"

"Indeed."

They debated for a while how they should go on. They were just about to go back to Carter and their gruesome find, when Jack spotted her in the hallway. He let her in.

"Sir, you won't believe this," she burst out as soon as she had caught her breath. "Some time after you were gone, two men came who said they were from the NID. They said they were in the area, anyway, so they were set on the case."

Teal'c raised his eyebrow. Jack said, "In the area?"

"Yes, I think it's rather strange that they just happened to be 'in the area', but I couldn't get any more from them. They conveniently had a zat gun with them, and made the body vanish."

"How ... convenient," Jack said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"At least we can be sure they were from the NID, or at least someone who is in the know, and not some uninvolved bystanders who thought I'd killed that guy."

"We met some rather interesting folks, too," Jack said. "I'm just wondering if we'll ever see them again."

-----

The next morning, Remus entered Professor Dumbledore's circular office, trying to suppress a yawn. "Sorry I'm late," he said. "Much happened last night." He wasn't really sure anymore that all of it had actually happened, or if he had just woken up from a particularly bizarre dream.

Professor Dumbledore looked up from the image in the Pensieve he had been studying. A cylindrical object rotated slowly just above its surface. "Mallory's family told me they want a small, private funeral for him, probably next week." Remus nodded, and Dumbledore switched the subject, glancing at the object in the Pensieve again. "This is presumably Voldemort's new weapon. Severus said he saw it last night. He also said he felt a strange sort of power radiating from it, but couldn't describe it in any actual details."

Remus was suddenly wide awake. This object was a perfect replica of the picture in the magazine clipping he had found in the hotel room of the Americans. Except ... there was something off. He inspected the rotating image closer. The second circle inside the big one was now a round hole, open. Hadn't it looked different in the photograph?

He still hadn't gone to St Mungo's to talk to the Muggle, which he had to make up for as soon as possible. Assuming the man was still alive, that is. With a few words, Remus told Dumbledore about the attack last night.

"I'm pretty sure he knows *something* about this weapon, and that is more than we know," Remus said. "We talked to his friends later, and they are definitely involved in some sort of shady business, too. They said they were looking for someone who thought he was a god and wanted to rule the world ... I think this was what they said. Not sure if they were serious. But I know for a fact at least the one who got into the fight has some clues about this weapon."

"Then I suggest you go and talk to him," Dumbledore said. "In fact, I think we should both go. I will talk to the authorities and make sure they bend the rules a little. He may be a Muggle, but perhaps he has crucial information that could help us in the war against Voldemort."

To Remus' immense relief, the man was indeed still alive. When they came into his private room in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, he was sitting upright in his bed, wearing his glasses again, conscious, awake, and looking rather pissed off. The Healers had asked him for his name when he had woken up, so at least they knew how to address him.

He glanced with open dislike at the magenta coloured robe Professor Dumbledore was wearing. At least the scowl on his face indicated that he was no longer in a critical condition. "Are you also coming to poke me with wooden sticks and force me to drink ghastly concoctions?"

"Good morning to you, too, Dr Jackson," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "It is a relief to see you are out of danger. I'm Professor Albus Dumbledore and this is Remus Lupin. We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us."

The glare Dr Jackson gave them told them clearly where to stick their questions. "I will answer no one's questions without a lawyer." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, bearing a striking resemblance to a pouting child.

"Dr Jackson, no one is here to harm you, we just--"

Even though Dumbledore was radiating all the grandfatherly charm he had, Dr Jackson seemed to be unaffected by it. "Oh yeah? Then why am I a prisoner?"

Remus sighed, slowly losing his patience with the stubborn American. "You are not a prisoner," he said. "What made you think so?"

Dr Jackson gave a sigh of impatience as well, as if he was asked to point out the obvious. "Well, the fact that no one will let me leave this room was a bit of a hint. For all I know, I have landed in the claws of some obscure sect who want to get information ... about..." He trailed off, faltered, as if he had just caught himself in time to avoid saying something he shouldn't have.

"About what?" Remus prompted.

"Nevermind," Dr Jackson mumbled, looking down at his blanket, visibly closing himself off.

"Does this have to do with the man who assaulted you? What was he looking for? Why did he call you 'Tau'ri'?" Remus asked, but didn't get an answer.

"The Healers are not keeping you here because of any kind of malicious intent, but because you are not fully cured yet," Dumbledore said gently. "When you have recovered, you will be free to leave."

Dr Jackson looked at Dumbledore, a spark of uncertainty in his eyes, but still openly defiant. "I want at least to let my friends know where I am and what happened. They will be worried sick by now."

"We will send someone to let them know," Remus assured him. "We still need your help, though."

"With what?"

Remus took a deep breath and started explaining how he had found the magazine clipping in their room. "Now this weapon seems to be in the possession of someone who should better not have got his hands on it. You seem to know more about it than we do, which is why we are asking for your assistance."

"Even if I wanted to tell you -- which is not the case, by the way -- I couldn't. This information is highly classified and I'm not allowed to give it to anyone who is not involved."

Remus and Dumbledore exchanged a glance. Highly classified? By whom? Who was this man working for?

"Involved with what?" Remus asked.

"That is classified as well."

Remus felt how frustration was building up inside him. Dr Jackson *knew* something, and was dangling the information in front of their noses, just out of reach. A small cynical part of him wondered if it would be legal to give a Muggle Veritaserum.

Remus made one last try to get through to him. "It may sound exaggerated, but the fate of the whole world could be at stake here. The one who has this weapon now is very, very dangerous." He noticed curiosity in the man's eyes. Gaining confidence, he went on, "I talked to your friends last night. Coincidentally, they were looking for someone who, by their description, bears a very striking resemblance to the one who is threatening us."

"He is right," Dumbledore picked up. "Right now this is affecting only one part of society, but if he isn't stopped, it might soon affect everyone, including you, your friends, your families, all of them."

A frown was creasing Dr Jackson's forehead, but this time it was more like a frown of confusion, of uncertainty, of thoughtfulness, rather than one of annoyance.

"Just who the hell are you guys?" he asked quietly. He looked at both of them for a few beats, scrutinizing them, questions playing over his features, as if he wanted to read their minds, to find out what was behind the façade, to finally find some answers. "What kind of game are you playing? Why have your ... your 'Healers' told me I've had a broken rib and a skull fracture that healed in one night? What is it that you want to make me believe?"

Obviously, he was still thinking they were playing some kind of trick on him, or trying to lure some information out of him under false pretences. Dumbledore seemed to realize this, too. "Dr Jackson, this is not a trickery of any kind. I wish it was, but unfortunately, this is reality."

"Then I suggest you tell me everything."

"I'm afraid we cannot--" Dumbledore began but was interrupted by Remus touching his arm.

"Let's talk outside for a minute."

When they had stepped into the corridor, Remus said, "Maybe we should bend a few more rules here. What do we have to lose?"

Dumbledore pondered this quietly for a moment. "It's always a big risk to let Muggles know about the Wizarding World. How do we know he's trustworthy?"

"Well..." Remus faltered. "We don't. But you said yourself how much is at stake here. Maybe we just have to drop some of our old prejudices for once."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "You have a point. I'm not sure everyone will see it this way, but maybe we can keep it under wraps for the time being. If he turns out to be useless, we can still decide what to do."

They went back into Dr Jackson's room. He looked at them expectantly.

"I'm sure you have heard of the old tales about magic, wizardry, and witchcraft," Dumbledore began to explain. Dr Jackson nodded hesitantly. "Well, at least one thing about them is wrong -- they aren't just tales." When Dr Jackson was about to interject, Dumbledore held up a hand to signal that he wasn't finished yet, silencing him effectively. "And we can prove it."

-----

"Hey, wait a minute! I need to talk to you."

It was almost noon. They had just left the hotel when someone walked up to them. From Colonel O'Neill's description, Sam guessed that it was probably the one named Lupin. She noticed how the colonel's face darkened instantly.

"We have more important things to do right now." O'Neill turned his back on the man and started to walk away. Sam looked from O'Neill to Teal'c and then to Lupin, unsure of what to do.

"I don't think so," said Lupin. "It's about Daniel Jackson."

O'Neill stopped dead in his tracks and spun around. "You know where he is?"

"Yes. He is alive and getting better. He has sustained some wounds but they are healing quickly."

"How was Daniel Jackson injured?" Teal'c asked.

"He got into a fight with someone yesterday evening."

O'Neill planted himself in front of Lupin in such a menacing way that the other man had no choice but to take a step back if he didn't want to be burned to a heap of ashes by his hostile gaze. "And you didn't even think it necessary to tell us about this?!" he hissed, danger radiating from every fiber of his body.

Lupin obviously hadn't anticipated such a reaction. "Hey, I happen to be the one who saved his life, okay?"

"Where is Daniel Jackson now?" asked Teal'c, his voice working like a lever between the two. O'Neill did back down a bit, but still looked very much pissed off.

"Let's walk for a bit, we don't need to keep standing in everybody's way," said Lupin when a woman came through the entrance doors, giving the group a disapproving glance as she walked around them. "I'm not allowed to tell you where Daniel is right now."

"Listen," said O'Neill, who had no choice but to follow the man in order to talk to him. "I'm not known for my great patience. You bring Daniel back to us *now* or I will make sure our government takes his abduction as a hostile act." Walking behind him, Sam could only see the back of the colonel's head, but she knew his expression had to be positively murderous.

"I'm sorry, but this is not possible at the moment." Lupin didn't seem to be impressed by the threat in the slightest, or if he was, he hid it well. Sam wondered what else he was hiding. "In fact, Daniel has agreed to help us with what is right now probably the biggest threat to our country and the rest of the world. And before you make unfounded accusations again, no, he has not been forced to do this."

The biggest threat to the world. Right. This was getting interesting, Sam thought. However, she knew Colonel O'Neill was probably not the best person to tell about threats to this world, so she quickly jumped in. "In that case, maybe you can bring us to him? We still have nothing but your word that he is alive."

"This is not possible, sorry. It involves too many things you should not know about."

"What is this threat you are talking of?" Teal'c asked.

"Sorry, I can't tell you."

"Well, what *can* you tell us?" It was apparent that O'Neill was rapidly losing what little patience he still had.

"Actually, I just came on Daniel's request to tell you that he is alive and recovering quickly from his injuries, so that you don't worry too much."

"What kind of injuries are we talking about, anyway?" Sam asked. "You said you saved his life, does that mean they were severe?"

"Our Healers said he had a skull fracture and a broken rib."

O'Neill stopped short so abruptly that Sam nearly bumped into him. His face had gone a shade paler. "Wait a minute. Yesterday night he had a skull fracture and a broken rib, and you say today he has already recovered?"

Lupin looked slightly perplexed. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"*Please* tell me he's not--" He broke off abruptly, but Sam couldn't tell if it was out of security concerns or if he feared that actually saying out loud that Daniel might be the Goa'uld's new host would somehow make it come true.

"There must be another explanation," Sam tried to assure him. She didn't sound as confident as she would have liked.

Lupin stared at them blankly. "Not what?"

"Daniel did not, by any chance, have glowing eyes, or a weird metallic sounding voice?"

Briefly, an odd look flitted across Lupin's features, but he quickly settled back into his carefully neutral expression. "Not Daniel, no."

"I suppose we can only be sure when you have the chance to come close enough to him, Carter," O'Neill said gloomily.

But Sam's mind was onto something else. "Not Daniel? You mean you've seen this on another person?"

Lupin faltered for a moment. Then he said quickly, "I have to go now. See you some other time."

Before any of them could react, he had walked past them and around the nearby corner, disappearing behind the block of houses. The sound of a small *pop* reached their ears.

O'Neill went after him. "Son of a--" He stopped short when he turned the corner. Sam and Teal'c caught up with him and saw why he was disconcerted.

There was no sign of Lupin. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

-----

"The Healers will give you a quick checkup soon, and if they are satisfied, you are free to go," said Dumbledore.

Daniel was sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, and not feeling unwell at all. Sure, there was still a slight twinge where the bones had been damaged, and there were a few bruises that he would probably be feeling for some more time, but his mind was occupied with much bigger things right now. He'd seen a lot of strange things on this travels across the galaxy in the last few years, things that even his wildest theories hadn't been able to keep up with. But who would have thought that the strangest of all could be found right on his own home planet?

There was no trick and no hidden technology about the magic these people could do. He could now understand why they had been reluctant to let him in on their secret. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he would probably not have believed it. He could also understand how a power like this could be easily misused, and there would always be someone to do just that. As amazing the concept of magic was, it was just as frightening.

"It's miraculous how fast you can heal injuries," he said. If he didn't know better, he could have sworn they had used a Goa'uld healing device or a sarcophagus.

"Oh, it isn't always like that," explained Dumbledore. "Some things are just impossible to fix, especially when dealing with magical injuries or illnesses ... And we cannot raise the dead." His face got a distant kind of look, as though he wished he *could* raise a few particular dead. "And for many of the deaths, the one responsible is Lord Voldemort. The very same wizard who now has the weapon that is unknown to us in his hands. Do you now understand why we need all the help we can get?"

"Oh yeah," said Daniel. "But I'm not sure if I know enough to help you. I can tell you what I do know, but you must keep this under wraps. I do believe you have the need to know, but I'm not sure if my government is inclined to agree."

"All right."

Daniel took a deep breath and tried to sum it up as short as possible without giving away any more than necessary. "What I'm pretty sure about is that the artefact did not originate on Earth, or at least was not created by regular humans. The writing on its side is the language of a very old alien race called the Ancients. We know very little about them, in fact we only just learned about them very recently."

"Do you have any idea as to its function?"

"Well, I couldn't make much sense of the writings, since I'm not very familiar with their language yet. It's close to Latin when spoken, but their written language is unlike anything I know. If I make an educated guess, it might say something along the lines of 'gate' or 'portal', but that's pretty much it." He thought for a moment. "But if the artefact is really a weapon, after all, it would explain why the Goa'uld was so keen on getting his hands on it."

When Dumbledore blinked at him quizzically, he almost had to laugh. The way things were going now, the wizards would have to deal with the Goa'uld sooner or later, anyway, so he could at least give them a heads up.

"The Goa'uld are also an alien race, but they are parasites. They look like snakes that live inside a human body as a host, and take total control over it."

"But if they hide inside the host body," said Dumbledore slowly, "how do you know if someone is a Goa'uld?"

"Well, a dual-toned kind of voice and glowing eyes are usually a dead giveaway." Daniel had the feeling he was starting to sound like Jack O'Neill already. "But it's their general behaviour. If they want to hide, they can do so very effectively, unless you do a CAT scan or MRI. But it's not in a Goa'uld's nature to hide. From our experience, a Goa'uld will eventually strive for power. He will try to intimidate people and gain control."

Dumbledore listened with open fascination. "I won't even ask how you got this experience you are talking about." He shook his head in astonishment.

"Anyway, I know for a fact that the Goa'uld is still around and after the Ancients' weapon, since I had a rather ... er, hostile encounter with him yesterday. And I assume he knows how to work the weapon. He might switch hosts if it is to his advantage, most likely to the one who gives him the greatest power."

"That would definitely be Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said gloomily. "He is one of the most powerful wizards of our time. However, if I were you, I would not get involved with him. He would have no difficulty killing you, or worse. You have already helped us a lot by telling us about the weapon."

But Daniel was determined. "My team and I might not know anything about wizards, but we do know how to deal with Goa'uld, and this is our advantage. If we work together on this, we might actually have a chance, don't you think?"

-----

After the 'Healers', as they were called, had given him another checkup, Daniel was finally allowed to leave. The hospital, to his amazement, looked like a shabby department store from the outside. From the position of the sun, it seemed like it was late afternoon. He glanced at his watch, which had refused to work inside the building. It was working again, but was showing the wrong time because it had picked up where it had stopped earlier. He took out his cell phone, which got its time from the nearest cell-relay tower, that confirmed his guess was right. Since everything seemed to be back online, he quickly selected Jack's number, stepped into a quiet corner where he couldn't be overheard easily, and waited for Jack to pick up.

"Daniel?" Jack's voice sounded frantic. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Jack, I'm okay, don't worry," Daniel tried to reassure his friend, having anticipated his reaction.

"But we *were* worried, where are you?"

Daniel looked around, shrugging, and remembered Jack couldn't see it. "To be honest, I have no idea. I saw a bus going by that was heading for Oxford Street, so I assume I'm somewhere in or near London. I was told somebody would let you know I'm fine, you didn't have to worry."

"Well--" Jack's voice faltered a bit before he continued. "How could we be sure they were telling the truth?"

That was just like Jack. He should have figured that. He quickly told him what had happened last night and how he had caught the Goa'uld searching through their things. "Jack, I've stumbled into something bigger than any of us could have ever imagined."

Jack wasn't listening. "Daniel, the Goa'uld has taken another host. We found the body."

"Jack, there is someone who needs our help. In fact, I've already decided I'm going to assist them in any way I can, and maybe you should, too. There is this little matter of the artefact being involved, but we really have to work together on this, national security or not. I already figured the Goa'uld has a new host, and if it's the one we suspect it is, the new host could be more dangerous than all other Goa'uld together, and I think it's safe to say the Ancients' device is actually a weapon, since he has gone to great lengths to get his hands on it."

There was a long pause on the other end. Daniel was wondering if Jack was still there, when he finally heard him saying, slowly, "What the *hell* are you talking about?"

Daniel took a deep breath and then sighed. "I think it's better if I tell you everything later, so I won't have to repeat it for Sam and Teal'c. I'll try to catch a bus to the city center, and you meet me there, okay?"

They agreed on the plan, and half an hour later Daniel exited the bus on Victoria Station. He spotted Teal'c first, then the rest of his team. Oddly enough, Sam looked strangely relieved when she welcomed him, unlike Jack and Teal'c who seemed a bit tense.

After the bulk of passengers had scattered a bit, he found out the reason for this.

"Sir, he's *not* a Goa'uld."

"You thought *I* was the Goa'uld?" Daniel was baffled. He had never thought about this possibility at all, but then, it was a reasonable assumption considering that he was the last who had met the Goa'uld before he had switched to a new host.

"None of us could be sure, Daniel," Jack said.

"Actually, you might have been blended without even yourself knowing," Sam added. "It took a huge clue from Cassie for me to notice Jolinar, and even Kawalsky didn't know what was going on until we told him."

Daniel had to admit she had a point. He looked at the busy street and said, "Let's go somewhere safe first, then I can tell you who I think the Goa'uld really is." And they were in for quite a tale, he thought.

-----