Pearl of Eden

Schuldig turned this over in his mind a few times. An archaeologist. A special variation of scientist prominent in movies for rushing from tomb to tomb and dodging thousand-year old traps while still managing to 'get the girl' in the end - whatever that meant. Truly a scientist that studied human cultures through the recovery, documentation, analysis and interpretation of material remains and environmental data, including architecture, artifacts, features, biofacts, and landscapes.

"Schuldig, huh? Are you German?" Brad Crawford was looking at him speculatively now. Schuldig shook his head.

"It started out as a nickname, and now everyone's forgotten my real name," he said poutily. Crawford blinked.

"Which is?"

Schuldig stared back at him, and then flashed him an embarrassed grin. "I've forgotten, too." Brad's stomach growled hungrily, and he flushed.

"Chow time," he said, then paused, looking over Schuldig's strange leather sandals and long robes. "You'll need better clothes than that while you're here. You can borrow from me, I won't miss them. My team's just out there, waiting for me to finish up. I'll try to explain your appearance, okay?"
Schuldig nodded, figuring that Crawford knew best. The archaeologist lead them out through a series of winding tunnels, until Schuldig thought perhaps they were going deeper into the tomb rather than away from it. Finally, blessed sunlight came filtering down into the darkness previously breached only by Brad's one flickering flashlight. "Crawford!" As they emerged into the day, Schuldig heard several happy voices surrounding them. Brad Crawford was obviously well-beloved on his team.

"We thought you'd gotten killed by a mummy or something," a small blond joked. "Isn't that what the curse on the front door threatened?"

A red-headed woman entirely too well-endowed for the shirt she was wearing sighed. "You know perfectly well that's not what it said, and-"

All conversation ceased as everybody seemed to notice Schuldig at once. "Crawford?" started the blond. Crawford clapped his hand down onto Schuldig's shoulder.

"This is Schuldig. He's from Germany. He said he came in through one of the side tunnels, and got lost, until we found eachother by the Door to Heaven."

"That wasn't-" Schuldig started quietly, but Crawford shushed him and directed him towards a tent pitched not far away. There was seven of them all told, each set up approximately fifteen feet apart.

"Schuldig, this is Kitada Hanae, my ... botanist." Schuldig heard her thoughts as sharp daggers being thrust into his mind. He almost winced with the force of it. Go on you bastard, say it, ex-girlfriend. Coward can't even admit it to a complete stranger, probably hasn't thought of me like that in months- He tuned her out, and listened to the rest of the introductions. "Omi, the tech-geek - he runs all our computers and keeps logs. There's Ken over there by the fire, he does most of the cooking, but he's one of my students when we're not in the desert. And last but not least, Jei. He came here with Hanae, he's studying under her to become a paleobotanist." Crawford's voice lowered. "He likes to say his name's Farfarello, but you don't have to call him that if you don't want."

Schuldig turned to this Jei Farfarello, and stopped dead. The white-haired man was looking at him with carefully concealed disgust, and it was all Schuldig could do not to point his finger and shout, "DEMON!" The taint of Hell was on the other man like a cloak he'd wrapped around his shoulders. An angel, here on Earth? What fun, he heard, and hurried back to Crawford's side. Brad held open the flap to the tent, and gestured for Schuldig to enter first. It was a lot bigger on the inside than it had appeared on the outside, and there was a small cot with hastily straightened covers. A rug covered the floor, which was in turn covered in sand. An enormous black duffel bag sat open beside a small folding table which contained no less than three radios and a small folding device Schuldig recognized as a cell phone only from picking it up out of Crawford's mind. "Isn't technology wonderful?" Crawford asked facetiously. "I paid nearly three hundred dollars for this thing, and it hasn't gotten a signal once out here. If you need to use a phone, talk to Omi - he's got the satellite phone hooked up by his computers near the generators." As he spoke, the American was digging through his duffel bag. He finally unearthed a tee shirt, jeans, and socks, which he handed off to Schuldig and turned his back to give the other man privacy to change. "You can stay with us for as long as you need to," he offered. "We've got a guest tent set up near the back of camp."
"What's the other one for, then?" Schuldig asked, pulling his robe off and puzzling through the strange clothes Crawford had handed him. He managed to get it right after a few tries, and he stood awkwardly in the human clothes.

"Food, supplies, storage. That sort of thing. You changed?" He spared a glance over his shoulder, and nodded. "Here's some boots for you to wear. They're better than sandals, at any rate." He handed the footware off, and sat down on the cot, examining his handiwork. The laces gave Schuldig some trouble, but he was experimenting with his strange telepathy, and managed to figure it out from one of the minds of the younger kids still sitting outside.

"Sun's going down," called a voice. "We're stopping for the night. Supper's almost ready, too."

"Alright, Ken, thanks!" Crawford called back. "Where are you really from?" he asked again, watching Schuldig awkwardly arrange his limbs.

"I... I'm.." he tried desperately to get the words out. "I can't say," he finally admitted.

"Can't, or won't?" Crawford asked, more sharply than he intended.
"Can't. Every time I try, something stops me." Schuldig added. Crawford looked thoughtful.

"Can you shake your head?" he asked suddenly. Schuldig wobbled his head around in a sort of circular motion, and Crawford bit back a laugh. "No, nod for yes, and shake for no," he said, suiting actions to words. Schuldig nodded. "So if I were to ask you, are you from Egypt, you..?"
Shook his head. "Not from Egypt. Alright, this is cool. We can do this, then. You fell." A nod. "From the tomb?" Shake. "From the ..." If I don't feel like a complete ass asking this, I don't know what- "From the sky?" A pause, and then a nod. Schuldig bit his lip.

"Do you believe in God?" he asked suddenly. Crawford barked out a laugh.

"No," he said firmly. Schuldig felt his world tilted on it's axis. This is what he meant by free will. The freedom to choose to believe or not. It still wasn't a pleasant thought, and he looked at Crawford more carefully. "I believe in his existence," Crawford amended. "But I don't believe IN him," he added bitterly. Schuldig felt something deeper than God was at work here, and let it drop.

"Well, God has..." Angels. ANGELS. Why can't I even say the word?
"A stick up his-"

"NO. They come to Earth to guide people or deliver messages..." Schuldig prompted, and tried not to think about the Almighty with a stick lodged in his rear end.

"Angels?"

"YES!" Schuldig grinned. Crawford looked sceptical.

"You're an angel?" He couldn't say anything, so he nodded instead. "A real live angel? Here? In my camp? Holy shit."

"Not quite," Schuldig said. "He'd have to take the stick out first," he added, and then clapped a horrified hand over his mouth, and looked skyward. The only thing there was the top of the tent. Crawford bent double with laughter.

"So," he started when the fit had passed. "An angel. Do you have a message? Are ... am I... is one of us going to die?"

"Not my department," Schuldig said, and felt relieved. Nothing in Crawford's thoughts told him anything about disbelief or calling the authorities and having him hauled away. "I'm... in trouble."

"With God?" Crawford asked.

Schuldig looked irritable. "With the entire Heavenly Host. I was not a good angel."

"Then you were a bad angel?" Crawford was laughing at him again, but whatever the joke was, it was lost on him.

"I never did anything bad. Not on purpose, anyway. It was more along the lines of a string of accidents following incredibly bad luck. This time I lost something important. It fell to Earth, and I was sent to retrieve it by way of punishment."

Crawford looked thoughtful again. "Well, you've fallen on the right person. If you'd like, I can help you. I've got money to spare; if you think we need to be somewhere, we can go. I do this for a living, you know."

Schuldig looked impressed. "Thank you. You're taking this incredibly well," he observed.

"I've had some time to think about it," Crawford said, and a deep pain flashed across his face.