Rodney's review of the internal sensors showed nothing unusual, but he made a few adjustments he thought might compensate for any additional life-signs. He also started a search of the Ancient database for anything mentioning invisibility or any other similar element.
No crew or personnel were reported missing or unaccounted for.
Ronon couldn't recall anything out of the ordinary to send someone into a knife-throwing fit.
After another hour of debating, scenarios, and a plan to keep their CMO under wraps for the next few days, they still had nothing.
More than nothing.
They were left with even more unanswered questions.
Ronon checked the clock on McKay's computer screen – growing more and more tense as time passed, and Jennifer hadn't called. He had half a mind to return to her quarters to check on her – but he also had no cause to interrupt.
After finally deciding they'd done all they could do, and unless something else presented itself, they would call it a night.
"Morning." Rodney yawned. "It's practically morning." He looked at his watch. "No, it is morning. Yay for me." He reached for his tablet and picked up a notepad. "What the-"
Rodney snapped his fingers. Halfway to the door Ronon turned, and glanced at McKay from over Sheppard's shoulder. The scientist was staring at a piece of paper, snapping and waving madly at them to come back.
"Shit." Rodney muttered re-reading the note before tossing it onto the countertop.
"What?" John asked, picking up on Rodney's suddenly agile moves as he jumped to his computer on the opposite side of the room.
John picked up the discarded notebook, and Ronon saw the message. Strange words – letter combinations he didn't recognize.
"It's gibberish." John said, moving closer to Rodney.
"It's not gibberish." Rodney snatched the notepad and held it up, wiggling it back and forth. "It's Klingon."
"Did you just say… Klingon?" John's eyebrows rose.
"Klingon." Rodney repeated, his fingers clacking furiously across his keyboard.
"The invisible man's a Klingon?" John frowned.
"No. Keller." Rodney muttered.
"Keller's a Klingon?" John rubbed his temple.
"What the hell is a Klingon?" Ronon shouted, his frustration growing with Rodney's increased agitation.
"And you call yourself a pop-culture genius, Sheppard. I'm surprised at you. The message. Not Keller. The message is written in Klingon. The phonetics are horrible but if you sound it out it's actually quite accurate for an obvious novice. Now Slinger over in Biology – there's a man who knows his-"
"McKay!" John cut in sharply. "The note?"
"How long's she been gone?" McKay asked, without looking up.
"Just over an hour." John answered, moving to stand behind Rodney, and making room for Ronon.
"What's it say, McKay?"
"Literally? Or Generally? 'Cause literally it's a bit confusing."
"McKay…" This time John growled.
"If she hasn't called in half an hour, hack her laptop."
"She… What?" Ronon said, stepping around John and heading for the door.
"I'm in." Rodney called. "And… that's weird."
"Ronon, wait." John called, and Ronon slowed, his mind fighting with his primal directive – Jennifer.
"There's a video file on the desktop that says Play Me McKay." Rodney muttered, "…and it's still recording."
"What's recording?" Ronon returned and leaned over Rodney's shoulder.
McKay pointed to a picture on the screen. "It's the webcam on her laptop."
On the screen, was a slightly hazy profile of a bed and headboard, and the long diminishing perspective of the side of a wall. The camera was apparently sitting on the table beside her bed, and aimed across the pillows along the wall.
There was nothing on the screen except the bed, which was empty, and neatly made. The lights appeared to be on full.
"I don't understand." Ronon shook his head.
"Wait." Rodney nodded, jumping back several minutes at a time. After the third click, Jennifer suddenly appeared on the screen. Rodney hit play.
There was no sound – but to see what they were seeing, sound wasn't needed.
"What the hell?" Rodney's face blanched as he glanced up at Sheppard.
The video-Jennifer was standing flat against the wall on the far side of her bed – her hair still wet from her shower - wearing a light blue tank top, white underwear, and nothing else.
Both her hands were holding the air in front of her throat as though she were gripping an invisible rope.
And she was speaking – no, yelling, shouting – at someone or something. Angry. Her body wiggled as though stuck against the wall.
But there was nothing there – nothing they could see to prevent her from walking away.
When her shirt moved, the material appeared to pull away from her torso, dancing around as though something crawled beneath it.
"What… is that…" John asked quietly.
Jennifer's head rolled frantically side to side, her torso jumping against the motion of her shirt. Her legs kicked out. She rocked against the wall, the position almost impossible to hold because at one point, both her feet were off the ground yet her upper body remained firmly seated in mid-air.
When her movement stopped – Ronon straightened.
Her lips moved, something short, fast, and furious.
Her arms dropped away from the air in front of her neck and she seemed to sag into the wall.
She smiled.
Smiled?
Her left arm raised and pointed directly into the camera.
"McKay, when was this taken?" John asked quietly.
Rodney looked lower on the screen. "Shit. Only twenty minutes ago."
When video-Jennifer flinched, Ronon's body reacted instantly, lunging closer to the computer even though his mind knew it wasn't really her.
With a sudden blur of movement her head snapped to the side. Her body sagged, her hands raised in defence as she stared up at the ceiling. A second time her head rocked violently and she dropped to the floor, her body disappearing from view behind the bed.
And Ronon ran.
.
.
.
A/N... YOINKS! Trust me... it's not over yet! An author once told me, never end a chapter unless you can leave them hanging. Sorry! Advice I've learned to follow! Onward!