It had been a perfectly routine trade negotiation, right up to the point where it...wasn't. Elizabeth had come with Colonel Sheppard's team on their second visit to M2X-823, after their first had established the Grotebroers as an advanced but peaceful people willing to trade industrial goods, like steel, for the promise of support against the Wraith. Pleased that the tribe was asking for alliance rather than hard weapons, for the Genii had made them wary of even seemingly innocent requests, Elizabeth agreed to go along and officially preside over the negotiations.
The Guardian, who seemed to be a sort of benevolent dictator, met them in his chambers. Elizabeth was fascinated by the architecture of the place, the harsh austerity somehow beautiful in its asceticism. There didn't seem to be a curved line anywhere; it was all corners, angles, squares, cubes, tetragons, blocks. And their technology was quite impressive, as well: doors were mounted on hydraulics, opening with sterile hisses, and elevator-like boxcars moved along tracks, not only vertically but horizontally also. It did, like many high-tech societies, have that slightly cold feel to it, as if controlled by something mechanically inhuman. Elizabeth had to admit she was not altogether comfortable here, unique architecture notwithstanding, but these people were offering something they needed -- perhaps not desperately, but at least a great deal.
The negotiations proceeded easily, Elizabeth growing more comfortable as she settled into her niche. This was what she did, this was what she was good at. The Guardian, for his part, seemed equally at ease. They traded niceties and light jokes while hammering out the contract, and Elizabeth was feeling more hopeful than she had allowed herself to feel for several months.
It was during a break in the formalities that things began to go wrong. Elizabeth had gone for a walk through the Grotebroers' capital city to stretch her legs and further admire the curious architecture. Rodney followed her, marveling more vocally at the geometric nature of the place. One of the Grotebroers' scientists followed a half-step behind him, quietly pointing out the things Rodney missed in his effusive enthusiasm.
"This is amazing," Rodney raved, goggling at the extraordinarily precise construction of two identical buildings.
"We use mathematical principles to build our edifices," the Grotebroer scientist, Dr. Alderson, intoned. "They are both structurally sound and aesthetically pleasing. The height is relative to the width and depth by a ratio of approximately 1.618."
McKay stared at him. "The Golden Ratio," he breathed, gazing at the buildings again. "Of course! All of them are built this way?"
"Yes," the scientist nodded. "Uniformity is highly prized among our people."
"The buildings are all different sizes, though," McKay noted, turning in a circle to illustrate his point.
"That is true," Alderson acknowledged. "However, each demarcated block of space has the same number of buildings within it and, furthermore, the same distribution of buildings. In effect, each block is identical."
"How many buildings in each block?" McKay asked absently.
"Seventeen," the Grotebroer replied automatically. "Seven industrial centers, three commercial outlets, two community buildings, and five residential dwellings."
"Hmm," McKay replied, apparently counting the buildings in the nearest block. "Wait," he said suddenly, snapping his fingers, "those are all prime numbers!"
"We call them eerste," the scientist corrected, nevertheless looking moderately impressed. "They, too, are highly valued in our society."
"What other applications have you found for them?" McKay asked eagerly.
"Many," Alderson answered vaguely.
"Yes, but," McKay pressed, oblivious to the guarded look that had suddenly come over the Grotebroer's face, "what kind? I mean, we use them in cryptography; do you have anything like that here? You don't seem to have political enemies; what need would you have for encryption? I haven't seen any computers; do you use hash tables? And pseudoran--"
Elizabeth had no doubt Rodney could go on all day about prime numbers, but he was cut off just then by a ghastly scream that emanated from a nearby building. It was muffled by the metal wall but there was little mistaking the anguish it held. It seemed to go on and on, too, echoing within the metal box and taking on a decidedly eerie, animalian quality. Elizabeth was so horrified by the sound that she didn't notice what Rodney immediately questioned.
"Why is that building different?" he asked, the enthusiasm mostly gone from his voice.
"It is a...correctional facility," the Grotebroer answered stiffly, turning abruptly on his heel. "It is time to return to the Guardian's chambers."
"A correctional facility?" Elizabeth repeated incredulously. "What type of 'correction' was that, exactly?"
"Madam," Alderson replied icily, "our customs are not your own. What we do with our prisoners is our business."
"Well," Elizabeth rejoined, keeping her tone civil, "I, for one, would like to know what type of people we are promising to support. And, frankly, just how these 'industrial goods' you're giving us are made. You understand our caution, of course; we've been betrayed before."
The scientist gave her a long, calculating look. "It is the Guardian's place to tell you," he sighed.
-----
"I am terribly sorry you had to experience that, Dr. Weir," the Guardian apologized. "Alderson should not have taken you that way. But, since you have, I assure you," he smiled warmly, "the Cube is reserved for only our vilest offenders and is quite a reasonable punishment for their crimes."
"Yes," Elizabeth frowned. "Unfortunately, we've heard that before as well."
"What do you want from us, Doctor?" he asked, affecting a burdened tone.
"I would like to see this facility for myself," Elizabeth requested, though it was clear from her own tone that it was no request. "Along with my colleagues," because she was not stupid, "so that we may determine whether or not we want to do business with you."
The Guardian hesitated briefly, then nodded. "All right. Alderson will be your guide."
Elizabeth wondered if she had imagined the brief look of terror that crossed Alderson's face at those words. She must have, for the next moment the look was gone and Alderson was inclining his head respectfully towards the Guardian.
"Please," he smiled tightly, "follow me."
-----
The door to the 'correctional facility' was opened by means of a strange, spinning handle; like all Grotebroer doors, it hissed faintly as it slid out of its socket. The six of them clambered inside, Colonel Sheppard giving Rodney a boost up, and the door shut automatically behind them with an ominous clunk. Alderson gazed at the small room they now found themselves in with, there was no denying it now, utter horror.
"This is...weird," Sheppard commented, breaking the apprehensive silence. He was, of course, correct. The room was unlike any Elizabeth had ever seen. The walls were emanating a garish red light, and were covered in strange designs that reflected the Grotebroers' love of geometry. There was a door in each wall, identical to the one they had just come through, and one on the floor and ceiling. The effect was dizzying; it was only for gravity that they could determine which wall was the floor.
Elizabeth expected Rodney to return Sheppard's observation with an acerbic remark, something along the lines of, "Thank you, Captain Obvious." When he didn't, she turned to look at him, curious as to what could strike the loquacious Rodney McKay dumb. To her alarm, she found him wearing a very similar expression to Alderson's.
"Rodney," she called softly, her voice heavy with worry. "What's wrong?"
"We have to get out of here," he said tightly, scrambling even as he spoke for the door. He never made it. A sudden jolt knocked all of them to their knees, painfully, and the room started moving upwards very quickly. It stopped as quickly as it had begun, then rocketed horizontally for several seconds. When it finally jerked to a halt -- Elizabeth waited to stand up until she was positive it had stopped completely -- the Atlantis team shakily got to their feet, exchanging mutual looks of confusion and fear.
Alderson, on the other hand, went ballistic. Elizabeth feared for their safety as the Grotebroer started screaming bloody murder, pounding on the walls and spinning all the door handles. Sheppard stepped in to stop him, receiving a blow to the face that knocked him off balance. Before Ronon could immobilize the surprisingly strong little scientist, he had opened the door in the floor and jumped through with a suicidal yell. Rushing to the hole, the Atlantis team saw him hit the floor of the room below -- identical to the one they were in, except the walls were an off-white color -- with a sickening thud. He lay sprawled over the door handle, but still appeared to be breathing.
"Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth started, slipping back into her leadership role. "Can you get down there?"
"I think so," he answered, taking in the room with a critical eye. "There're rungs all along the walls; I can probably climb--"
"No!" Elizabeth turned, surprised to find Rodney the source of the almost hysterical outburst. "We shouldn't move," he explained, slightly calmer. "It's too dangerous."
"Don't worry, McKay," Sheppard reassured him. "These ladder things look perfectly safe. And it's not that bad a fall, especially if you land on your feet."
"No," Rodney replied, shaking his head slowly, "that's not it."
"Rodney," Elizabeth stepped toward him, "what aren't you telling us? What do you know?"
He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I -- I've been here before." He seemed to anticipate the outbursts of "What?" "When?" and "How?" from the rest of them, and held up his hand in a defensive gesture. "Not...here, here," he clarified badly. "But this place, it's, it's really...familiar. Almost like I dreamed it once, or...something; I don't know. But it's dangerous."
"Dangerous, how?" Ronon spoke up for the first time, fixing McKay with a look that suggested he was not happy being trapped in a box, especially if McKay could have warned them before.
"I don't know!" Rodney shouted frustratedly. "It's more like a, a feeling. And I know how stupid that sounds," he added, precluding the raised eyebrows all around. "Believe me, I would love to explain it more scientifically."
"Should we not try to find a way out, though?" Teyla asked, keeping her tone reasonable.
"Oh, yes," Rodney snapped. "Let's wander around inside a gigantic box looking for the door! It probably has a nice, glowing exit sign over it, too, so we'll be sure not to miss it. Because tyrants usually throw their prisoners into giant metal boxes they can easily escape from!" He was breathing hard by the end of his little tirade but appeared ready to continue.
Elizabeth stepped in. "All right, Rodney," she soothed. "I think we all need to calm down. At the very least, let's get out of this red light. It's giving me a headache."
"Don't you get it?" he pleaded. "We came into this room. We know it connects to the outside. We don't know that about any of the other rooms! We don't even know how many there are! We will get lost in there, Elizabeth. We will get lost in this colossal maze and starve to death."
His grim pronouncement was met with the bleak stares of four people who knew he was absolutely right, as usual, but could not bring themselves to face that dire future. With a determined optimism, or at least less pessimism than McKay, Elizabeth clung to something he had not even realized he'd said.
"Can we find out how many rooms there are?" she asked.
"What?" Rodney blinked, distracted from his gloomy sentiments. "From inside?"
"We can measure the one we're in," she reasoned. "How big d'you figure the outside is?"
"The outside?" Rodney repeated, slowly understanding her idea. "It's hard to say; I only saw it for a few minutes. But, I don't know, about 400 feet cubed?"
Elizabeth nodded slowly. "Okay. This room," she paced across it, "is fourteen feet wide. So, how many rooms are there?"
"Well, it's only an estimate," Rodney cautioned, waving his hand slightly. "I mean, there's no way to know for sure. Besides, we don't even know if this thing is filled with the little cubes; there could be spaces. In fact, there'd have to be in order for them to move ar--"
"Rodney."
"About 17,000." A stunned silence struck the group as each processed the enormity of the number.
"Well, then, we'd better get moving," Sheppard remarked with a false cheeriness.
"Haven't you been listening to a word I've been saying?" McKay fumed. "That is not a good idea!"
"I got that, McKay," Sheppard growled. "But I am not about to sit here on my ass doing nothing. Maybe there's another way out; maybe there's someone else in here who can help us. I'm going," he resolved firmly.
"Well, you shouldn't go alone," Elizabeth cautioned, torn between heeding Rodney's reasonable warnings and following John's call to action.
"I'll go," Ronon volunteered.
Rodney snorted. "Why am I not surprised," he muttered.
"We should stay together," Teyla pointed out. "Our chances of survival are greater with five than with two."
"She has a point," Elizabeth conceded. "Rodney?"
"I reserve the right to say 'I told you so,'" he sighed. No one else heard him whisper, "I hope I live to."
"Great," Sheppard clapped his hands and rubbed them together, still maintaining that phony enthusiasm that was fooling no one. "I'll go first." He spun the nearest door handle, the one opposite the wall they had come in from, and pulled open the door. The adjacent room was green. He cautiously climbed the small, ladder-like rungs along the side of the door and swung his legs into the passageway between them.
"Colonel Sheppard," Rodney called suddenly, nervously.
"Yes, Rodney?" Sheppard indulged him.
"Just...be careful," Rodney warned, eyebrows knitting together worriedly. The expression that was so un-McKay was mirrored on Elizabeth and Teyla's faces, Ronon's gaze as inscrutable as ever.
"Yeah," Sheppard replied, nodding shortly. "Will do." He slowly slid into the green room and jumped to the floor, freezing in place and quickly taking in the room. After several seconds of nothing, he straightened and called, "Seems safe in here."
The rest of the team climbed through the passage promptly, eager to escape the maddening blood-red of the previous room. Sheppard, confidence boosted by the lack of anything insidious in the room, crossed right away to the opposite wall. Twisting open the door, he peered warily into the next room. It was white, like the one Alderson had jumped into, and there didn't seem to be anything inside it, either.
"Here I go," he whooped, leaping in. For a few blissful seconds, it seemed that this room was perfectly safe, too. Then, suddenly, McKay screamed,
"Get out of there! Now!"
Sheppard, unused to the desperately commanding tone of McKay's voice, reacted instinctively. Springing backwards, he scrabbled for a handhold on the wall he had just come through, trying to pull himself away from whatever it was McKay had seen. He felt something graze his pants leg as he crawled back through the passageway and, moments later, a searing pain shot through his leg.
"Aggh!" he groaned, clutching his deeply cut calf. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," McKay mumbled miserably as Teyla saw to Sheppard's leg. "It was some kind of, of, of trap. A wire...wire..."
"Sushi machine?" Sheppard supplied, gritting his teeth.
"Descriptive," McKay acknowledged.
"If there's one trap," Elizabeth reasoned, "there are probably more."
"It stands to reason, yes," Rodney agreed.
"This isn't going to be easy," she continued grimly, stating the obvious.
"No," Rodney shook his head. "It's not."