The rustle of clothing and the slight ting of glass being put down on metal was a sign that it was time to move on. Daniel got to his feet, glad that they wouldn't have to stay in the room much longer; waves and waves of tributes must have come through here, passing in on the way to the slaughterhouse. He'd been around death a lot. It sort of came as part of his job. But there was more dignity to mummified remains and the ceremonies involved than what they were looking at.
Daniel followed her, looking around the tower more carefully now that he didn't have a veritable entourage surrounding him. At the time, he could barely hear himself think at the time when he had his Escort and stylists speaking over each other the moment they got their first look at him. "Avoxes? What do those do?"
The room seemed to chill a good several degrees. Okay, so she was "out", and she preferred everyone else to keep out as well on that subject. Daniel had the sudden feeling he couldn't press this one; not if he wanted to get more information out of her on the Games and the culture. As one of the more blunt sources of information out there, he wasn't so willing to blow it just yet.
Daniel stepped into the elevator after her, moving aside so she could press whichever floor she had in mind.
"I read it years ago, but yes. I know of it," Daniel answered. His eyes drifted upwards for a moment, closed as he dredged his memory. "Twenty centuries of stony sleep/were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,/And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,/slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"
He thought he understood what she was getting at. That the long history of the Games and the Capitol's supremecy were on shaky ground, that what had always been brewing had or was close to coming to a head. It secretly pleased him to no end that Eva was using literature to speak in a code of sorts. It almost made up for her earlier pot shots at him. Almost.
Now how did Panem have people signing the cross, an Earth religious gesture, and Yeats, if it was another planet? Humans displaced by Goa'uld brought old culture with them (1919 hardly fell under old culture or in Goa'uld timeframe), but generations later had a tendency to often change things, so they were close but not exactly the same. An ugly suspicion began in the back of his mind. Two different ones at least. One of them - time travel - sounded a little too far-fetched, too sci-fi movie for him, and anyway, he wasn't sure of the quantum physics needed for the Gate to function like that - Sam would, so the archaeologist put that one on the backburner. Daniel bit absently on his bottom lip, then went on. "I'm surprised you are, actually. It's an older, 1919 poem, from Earth."
Re: No problem!
Daniel followed her, looking around the tower more carefully now that he didn't have a veritable entourage surrounding him. At the time, he could barely hear himself think at the time when he had his Escort and stylists speaking over each other the moment they got their first look at him. "Avoxes? What do those do?"
The room seemed to chill a good several degrees. Okay, so she was "out", and she preferred everyone else to keep out as well on that subject. Daniel had the sudden feeling he couldn't press this one; not if he wanted to get more information out of her on the Games and the culture. As one of the more blunt sources of information out there, he wasn't so willing to blow it just yet.
Daniel stepped into the elevator after her, moving aside so she could press whichever floor she had in mind.
"I read it years ago, but yes. I know of it," Daniel answered. His eyes drifted upwards for a moment, closed as he dredged his memory. "Twenty centuries of stony sleep/were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,/And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,/slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"
He thought he understood what she was getting at. That the long history of the Games and the Capitol's supremecy were on shaky ground, that what had always been brewing had or was close to coming to a head. It secretly pleased him to no end that Eva was using literature to speak in a code of sorts. It almost made up for her earlier pot shots at him. Almost.
Now how did Panem have people signing the cross, an Earth religious gesture, and Yeats, if it was another planet? Humans displaced by Goa'uld brought old culture with them (1919 hardly fell under old culture or in Goa'uld timeframe), but generations later had a tendency to often change things, so they were close but not exactly the same. An ugly suspicion began in the back of his mind. Two different ones at least. One of them - time travel - sounded a little too far-fetched, too sci-fi movie for him, and anyway, he wasn't sure of the quantum physics needed for the Gate to function like that - Sam would, so the archaeologist put that one on the backburner. Daniel bit absently on his bottom lip, then went on. "I'm surprised you are, actually. It's an older, 1919 poem, from Earth."