Chapter Ten

Carson could only watch the body of Sheppard being buffeted by the blue energy field and wait for some sign that Machine had finished. It was disconcertingly noisy in Machine. The energy field let out hisses, like steam escaping, and the occasional pop. Sheppard would go through periods of calling out a name, or yelling at something or someone only he could see. Carson noted the movement of the eyes under the lids. Pity he didn't have an EEG unit with him, it might have given him more clues as to the state Machine had put Sheppard in.

At one stage, Sheppard appeared to briefly climb his way back to consciousness but it seemed to be due to some other activity. Carson saw Sheppard shift his left arm. A thin tendril, delicate, snaked across the arm, tasting, looking for the right spot.

This was how she was feeding from him. He saw the tendril wrap around the arm, and gently insinuate itself just under the skin.

"Machine. Are you there?"

"Yes, I am here."

"I told you, you mustn't take any more blood from him. You could kill him."

"This is the last time."

Carson thought fast, as he didn't think it would be the last time at all, unless this session saw her reach a conclusion.

"Why don't you take some blood off me?"

"You are not the Seer; I have not joined with you."

"If you're after the iron content, it won't make a bit of difference now, will it lass?"

She didn't immediately answer. "I will check my instructions."

"Aye, you should do that. And while you do that, do you think you could stop using the Colonel?"

"I am sorry. No. I cannot drop my energy below a certain level, or I can no longer function."

Carson sighed, went back to sitting and waiting. As he sat and waited, he offered up a heartfelt prayer to God to spare Sheppard any more suffering and to please, please let them both get out alive.

((--))

"I know what Machine is," said Rodney.

Ronon stood straight up, going from casual to alert in five seconds flat. "What?"

"She's a battle computer."

"A what?"

Rodney pointed at some of the schematics of Machine. "See. She's meant to join with an operator and from there determine all the possible scenarios that a battle or situation could have gone through, then determine the best course of action for any future scenarios. The Ancients fed her the scenarios. Then, if they had a pilot encounter a Wraith ship, and he survived, they had the pilot go into Machine; Machine would take that memory and process all the ways it could have turned out differently. All the points of the multiverses. Then she'd perfect a strategy for any future encounter with similar parameters. Think of it as the ultimate action reply. The operator, by the way, seemed to have been given the code name of Seer. "

"What's she doing now? There ain't no Wraith around the last time I looked."

"The Ancients abandoned the project. That shouldn't come as a shock since we know the Ancients had about as much staying power as a smoker being forced to run a marathon when it came to experimentation. Seems Machine had a flaw. She wouldn't let the operator out until she'd completed her task. They had two of them die in her before they were able to program her with a routine that forced her to let the operator out if more than twenty-four hours had passed. Sort of a failsafe mechanism. Unfortunately she wasn't as efficient at calculating the future scenarios as they hoped, too many variables. They abandoned the project, put her into sleep mode. She barely used any energy for thousand of years but she must have nearly run down before she was rediscovered."

"She uses blood to keep her power levels up?"

"Actually she uses the ferritin in the same way as most life in two galaxies uses iron. Transportation of oxygen, and basic cell stuff that I never quite understood because I didn't study biology. But basically they seem to have designed her with the basic organic processes to keep herself going. She may have started using blood out of desperation."

McKay studied the console for a moment. "Then again, her measly power supply doesn't explain how this console is operational. There must be a ZPM around here. Maybe they powered the lab and secondary systems from a ZPM or some other power source… But why not put her on the same supply? Maybe they wanted her to run independently…."

Ronon didn't reply. He'd tensed, put his hands to his lips to signal that McKay should be quiet.

There was somebody coming up the tunnel, the footsteps grinding into the sand and dirt weren't hard to hear in the relative quiet of the room. There was only one particular somebody who knew where this place was.

Rodney instinctively backed up against the console, his stomach clenching at the mere thought of having to see the deranged monk again. The pain from his face seemed to magnify in time to the footsteps.

Ronon stepped in front of him, blocking his view. He set his feet shoulder width apart, put his left foot slightly back from his right, so that he was balanced. Reaching over, he grabbed the same metal bar that Tibs had used to pound Rodney into submission.

McKay stood his ground. He thought it was probably because he'd frozen in pure fear.

The footsteps grew closer and Tibs was softly whistling before calling ahead through the door. "McKay, I've come back to pay another visit. Sorry I was gone so long."

Clearly the disembodied voice was meant to begin terrorizing the victim psychologically. Rodney could agree that the technique was effective.

Tibs entered, a huge smile on his face. A smile that promptly faded at seeing an empty space where he'd last left his captive and Ronon holding his favorite metal bar.

Tibs seem undecided on his next move. "What are you doing here?"

"I went looking for McKay. You can guess at how unhappy I was when I found him down here, tied up." Ronon took a big step forward. "Someone beat him up and tortured him. He said it was you."

Tibs shifted his gaze to Rodney, who was trying to get his feet to move so he could run for his life if he needed to. "McKay is a liar. I showed him where this lab was so he could help his friend."

"See how much I believe you."

Tibs seemed to be weighing up exactly how far he could run before Ronon mowed him down. Ronon seemed to have already thought of the same problem and moved to block the doorway, intercepting Tibs before he could escape.

Ronon towered over Tibs, his voice low and dangerous. "I know your type. You want power. You like to hurt people. You like to bully them. But only when it's just you and your victim. In a crowd, you're a weak man. A coward."

It appeared Ronon was giving a speech. It distracted McKay enough that he could get his body motivated to work again.

The speech ended, Ronon reached out and grabbed Tibs by an arm, twisted it up behind his back and marched him over to the iron ring. He grabbed the length of rope still on the ground, tied Tibs up swiftly and efficiently and made sure he was well secured to the iron ring.

Rodney still hadn't moved from the safety of the console, but at least Tibs seemed less of a threat. Just.

Tibs was undaunted by the change in his fortune. "They will come looking for me. They will make you pay."

At that point, Rodney found his voice again. It initially started with a squeak of air, but then he managed to start talking, and couldn't help but note that his voice was shaking.

"No one's going to find you. You told me that you were the only one who knew this lab existed."

Tibs regarded McKay with the same contempt he always did, even though he was currently retrained. "If you untie me, I can show you other areas in the Abbey that would interest you. They also have these devices."

Rodney felt as if he'd gone to war with himself. Those pesky things called emotions were jumbled up and crashing around inside of him, stretching him between anger and despair and hope and depression like so much taffy. There was a reason he went into science, and it wasn't so that he would have too feel much. He liked the joy of discovery and the frustration and thrill of the hunt. He didn't sign up to the expedition to experience the aftermath of torture.

Ronon's face had taken on the serious look. The one he used when it was trouble with a capital 'T'.

"What do you want to do with him?"

"Do with him?" Rodney wasn't too quick on the uptake just at this point in time.

"He's trussed up. You can do what you like," said Ronon with a voice that was disconcertingly calm.

Ah. McKay knew where Ronon was going with this. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. And he felt that. He really did. There was a part of him that thrilled at the idea of Tibs being on the receiving end of the same treatment. It would be simple. It would be easy.

"Have you done anything like this?" He asked Ronon and knew that Ronon would be straight with him.

"Yeah. Once or twice. To people who caused a lot of pain to me or others."

"Did it make you feel any better?"

Ronon shrugged. "It didn't make me feel any worse if that's what you mean. When I finished, I knew they weren't going to hurt anyone, ever again."

It was tempting. Tibs had stopped struggling, seemed resigned to whatever Rodney had in store for him. For some reason, without thinking, he began moving closer. Did he really want to get this close to the monster that had been making his life miserable for these two days? Tibs was every bully he'd ever encountered, rolled up into a neat sadistic package. He wanted to do… Something. Beat him, and with that, all of his demons, all that fear, all that unhappiness.

His fist seemed to curl by itself. There was a moment's of hesitation. Tibs stared up at him, and Rodney wondered why he was hesitating. Did he want Tibs to start begging and that would make it okay?

Tibs did not beg. He just looked up at Rodney, his face wearing an infuriating sneer as if Tibs was daring Rodney to land a punch.

It was that sneer that sent McKay over the edge. A part of him that he never knew existed took over. He drew back his arm, rage incandescent within him, and he drove his fist forward with all his might.

The blow hurt but not nearly as much as all the other bits on his body, so he ignored it. His punch hadn't been well aimed and he'd managed to hit Tibs in the ear. But at least the man had stopped sneering at him. To his satisfaction, Rodney thought he saw a tiny spark of fear.

It was disturbingly satisfying. It made him happy. He wanted to do it again. He could do it again. Ronon wouldn't judge him. He could do it all day until Tibs face was nothing more than a red pulp and the skin on his knuckles were gone. He could use the metal bar, or Tibs' own instruments, and Ronon wouldn't tell anyone. It would be their little secret.

You're not that guy.

Never had been. It wasn't a case of forgiving and forgetting. He never forgave and he never forgot. The simple fact was that Rodney McKay did not have, as part of his personality and genetic makeup, anything that would allow him to inflict physical pain on others in this most up close and personal manner. The concept made him squeamish and it felt utterly wrong. There was a big difference between killing with a gun and killing or wounding like this. Guns were remote, impersonal. The death was usually abrupt and quick, if done correctly. It took a whole different breed of person to be able to use their hands to kill a person while that person was looking them straight in the eye.

He blinked, unclenched his fist. "I'm not going to do this."

Ronon folded his arms. "Didn't think you would."

Tibs' sneer was back. "I knew you wouldn't. You're too spineless."

"What do you want to do now?" Ronon asked.

Somewhere in his mind, Tibs had become something else. Maybe a wayward dog, some kind of animal. Not human anyway.

"I need to work out how to interrupt Machine and get Sheppard out. Then we need to get out of this hellhole. For a start, you can gag the bastard so I don't have to hear from him any more."

"No problem," said Ronon. He grabbed the hem of Tibs robe, and began ripping it. "While you work, I'm gonna look for something we can use as weapons."

"Good idea," replied Rodney. Then he turned his back on the enraged Tibs and paid him no more attention.

((--))

Not Mitch was turning into a complete pain the ass. For some reason he and Not Mitch were running around outside the Abbey, P-90s at the ready. Jumpers were providing air support. Monks were providing their version of the trebuchet.

Not Mitch said, "What the fuck are we doing here anyway?"

He didn't know. What was he doing running around with backup in the form of a bloated corpse? "I presume there's a game plan. Can you run?"

Not Mitch glanced down at his legs, fat from the plasma in his blood pooling under his skin, and the muscle beginning to break down. "Sure. Bits might drop off along the way but I can't feel a thing."

"More information than I needed, but thanks for sharing."

The shape of the enemy was taking a more solid form. It was Dren, the original war lord that had kidnapped him in the first place. He was backed by a dark cloud of men that swarmed over the landscape like locusts, consuming everything in their path.

Sheppard wondered what he was supposed to do. Machine answered for him. "This is a future point. Just one of many future point scenarios. The Benevolent Father from long ago asked me to bring peace to his world. The treaties do not work, the war lords and gangs must be eliminated."

"Don't you think that's overly ambitious?"

"That was the question put to me. I must find the answer, the way to victory. There will be a perfect way and I will tell Benevolent Father how to put this way into action in his universe. "

Sheppard glanced at Not Mitch who was rolling what was left of his eyeballs. "Machine, just how many times have you been asked to run tactical scenarios?"

"That is all I run. This world has warred with itself for centuries. I try to provide answers but it seems you are the first Seer that could provide a solution that is adequate."

"Machine, doesn't it strike you as weird that your scenario of winning happens to involve me? You presuming I'm gonna stick around."

"You will remain."

"That's nice and all, but it's a big assumption. You know what they say when you assume?"

"No, Seer."

"It makes an ass out of you and me."

"That's stupid," said Not Mitch.

"Blame my second grade teacher," said Sheppard. He spoke to Machine again. "It also involves the use of jumpers. What makes you think Atlantis is going to cough up jumpers?"

"I calculated all previous points of death. Ran all scenarios. The monks have stored weapons for the great battle but you are the focal point. You will be given more powerful weapons by your people if you ask. They do not want to lose the focal point either."

"I have no idea what you just said," replied Sheppard. Machine was talking in her usual riddles.

"All points intercept with you. No matter where you are, all points intersect with you. You are the Beginning and End. We will run all scenarios."

Not Mitch gave him the thumbs up sign. "Your girlfriend is crazy."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow at Not Mitch. "She's not the only one."

About that time, one of Dren's men fired his rifle, and shot Sheppard through the heart. Sheppard was actually relieved that this was one of the milder deaths he had experienced.

((--))

Rodney continued to work through the information on Machine. He was trying to find out how to put her back into sleep mode. He'd even take an off switch if she had one. Anything that stopped her in her tracks and stopped her from messing with Sheppard any more than she had. Okay, her instructions said that she had to stop at the twenty-four hour mark, but sloppy work meant that she had no time limit for when she could start. She could just cycle straight into another twenty-four period without so much as letting her operator pause for breath if she felt inclined. There was the other problem – they could try and fight their way out with a temporarily deranged Sheppard but the monks worshipped Machine. As long as she could still communicate with them, they'd never get out. If Machine went silent, he thought it would be enough of a shock that leaving would be a lot simpler.

There was also the small matter of the power supply to the lab. He'd managed to locate it at long last. A string of ZPMs. All sitting there, waiting to do their thing. The pain in his face had distracted him too much and he'd managed to get it wrong - the ZPMs were her primary power source. The ferritin was for emergencies. There had been a deliberate disconnect, presumably when the Ancients had sent her into sleep mode. They didn't seem to have factored in the possibility of anyone willingly sitting inside her, and they couldn't bare to kill her because she was a sentient being.

It was up to him to figure out how to shut her up, once and for all. The Ancients may have thought bumping her off was wrong, but he had no such doubts.

"Oh, come on, there has to be a backdoor into this mess of code.

"You talking to me?" Ronon said. He'd left Rodney to get on with his work.

"No. Sorry. I tend to talk to myself when I'm trying to work out a problem. You wouldn't believe the crap base instructions they came up with. I swear to God that Ancients have all the coding finesse of my grandmother."

Ronon shrugged, gave Tibs a kick in the leg just to make sure he was still awake. "I only worry about technology when my blaster doesn't work."

"Fair enough," said Rodney. Then he went back to work. Machine did appear to have a weakness. The schematics showed how she joined with the operator. If the energy link to the Seer was broken abruptly and redirected, the sudden signal lose would cause her to stop processing. Her instructions would force her to cycle into a huge diagnostic routine that ran for more than five hours. Or at least that's what the data seemed to imply, or more to the point about all he could read with his newly adopted pose of tilting his head back and trying to squint. On the good side, even if it was for only five hours, during that entire time she would be incommunicado and for all appearances, dead.

Problem was, he didn't know what effect that would have on the operator.

Crap.

"I might have a problem," he said to Ronon.

"Yeah? What?"

"I think I know how to interrupt Machine. I don't know what it's going to do to Sheppard."

"Would it kill him?"

"I honestly don't know. I don't think so but I don't know if I should take the chance."

"Is there any other way to shut her down?"

"Haven't found any other way."

"Then you should do it. Sheppard will understand. I don't think he'd want to be stuck in there any longer than he had to be."

Rodney grimaced. Yeah, he couldn't imagine it being a great experience. Problem was, if he baked his friend's brain any more than it was, he wasn't sure if Sheppard was going to bounce back. Stuck between a hard place and a rock…

((--))

Carson's first glimmer of hope in four hours was the sight of Sheppard trying to view his surroundings. He'd woken up, his eyes were open but swimming around in his head. He was trying to move and not succeeding. The blue arcs of light that had surrounded Sheppard had faded and then gone.

Carson immediately got to his feet, clutching his prized jug of solution and slopped his way over to the floating form of Sheppard. He knelt down in the muck, found it came up to his chest. Putting an arm behind Sheppard's shoulders, he tried lifting the pilot into a more upright position so that he could get him to drink.

"Colonel Sheppard… John. It's Carson. Can you talk?"

Sheppard's confused gaze met his. He wasn't recognizing anything at this point. Still, recognition didn't matter went it came to the human body's basic instincts. Carson held the jug, growing heavier by the second, and managed to get the lip of the jug against Sheppard's mouth. There was going to be a lot of spillage he thought, but his only concern was making sure that some of it got into Sheppard.

As he predicted, Sheppard was running on instinct. Sheppard opened his mouth, and Carson tilted the jug. The solution started running into the Colonel's mouth and the man just gulped as fast as he could.

Sheppard was definitely dehydrated.

"You need to just hold on, Colonel. We're going to get out of this." How, he didn't have a clue. His encouragement was met with silence except for the sound of Sheppard desperately swallowing water.

Machine started talking again. "I am ready to start again. Carson, you must move back."

"You can't start again so soon. He's not bloody ready!"

"You must move back."

Sheppard was beginning to thrash in Beckett's hold. He was clearly disoriented, and the struggle was instinctive. It wasn't a surprise to Carson. He'd encountered combative patients before. Usually after they were coming up from sedation or anesthesia and they weren't sure where they were.

"John, it's okay. You're safe." This of course, was a complete lie.

"Move away," demanded Machine.

He didn't have much of a choice. She'd activate her blue light show whether he was in the way or not. He gently removed his arm, and waded back to the seat. Machine's fluids had leaked through the material of the robe all the way up to his armpits and it was highly uncomfortable. Like being immersed in congealing aspic.

Machine began her process again, the blue light arcing around, hitting Sheppard squarely in his chest and forehead. Sheppard arched again, tried to cry out but couldn't, presumably because he just didn't have any of his own energy left.

Carson clutched the jug, feeling powerless and tried telling himself that he wasn't the most useless doctor in two galaxies.

((--))

Rodney studied his handiwork and decided that yes, this would do it. He'd stitched in the subroutine, and it was ready to execute. Which it would in about two seconds. He waited.

The subroutine activated.

Tibs began a muffled screaming. The force field deactivated. The console arced once, and then died. The ZPMs booted up to full and promptly started trying to supply power to nothing. Their readout quickly showed an overload building. As soon as she completed her diagnostic routine, his code would reconnect the main supply and send it into Machine, short circuiting her from here to eternity.

Rodney had never been more proud of one tiny subroutine.

((--))

Machine was screaming. It was loud, piercing, and it was shaking Carson's fillings loose. The blue light had abruptly broken off from Sheppard, and arced back up towards the surface of Machine. Carson hadn't wasted any time, and bolted over to Sheppard, grabbing him again to prevent him from sinking.

He desperately tried to think through what was going on. "Machine? Machine, can you hear me?!"

There was no answer, just tormented screams.

He wasn't sure what he should be doing, but it seemed a good move would be hauling Sheppard out from the direct line of the source of the energy beam. He put his hands under Sheppard's armpits and started shoving the semi-conscious man towards the edge. Maybe he could at least get Sheppard out of the muck for a while.

The screaming was getting to Sheppard. He stirred as Carson pushed and pulled him into position by the seat Machine has generously formed.

"Everyone keeps screaming. I wish everyone would stop screaming when they die."

Carson kept pulling, and tried to pretend he wasn't as shaken as he felt. "Aye, it is pretty loud."

Sheppard began thrashing around again, trying to bring his hands to his ears. "Make it stop. Holland keeps screaming, he keeps screaming and I can't help him. He's dying anyway. Just shut up."

"Shhhhh. It's okay. No need to worry." Another great lie. Carson was very worried.

The light inside Machine blinked crazily, she gave one last scream and then the lights went out. It was pitch black, as dark as being stuck in a mine. Carson tried not to scream in fright himself, and gathered Sheppard towards him, trying to make sure he didn't accidentally lose contact with the pilot.

Sheppard for the most part came willingly, and curled awkwardly against Carson's side. "My favorite cereal is Fruit Loops. You can eat them straight out of the box."

"That's… nice," replied Carson. He had no idea where Sheppard thought he was.

The darkness continued for an unknown length of time until Machine made an announcement.

"Reset. Begin. Instruction zero."

And with that, the sides of Machine opened up.

((--))

Rodney had done it. Machine was trying to reset herself and that meant she was switching to internal diagnostics. They needed to get to the chamber as fast as possible - except curiosity got the better of him, despite the imminent danger of being blown up. Tibs had screamed when he activated the subroutine. The scientist in him needed to know why but then again, a part of him could already guess.

He gestured to Ronon to remove the gag. Tibs appeared to be shaken by what he'd experienced.

"You tried to join with Machine, didn't you?"

Tibs nodded, a tear beginning to spill out of his eye. "Yes. I asked Machine. She said I had some qualities, not all. But she was desperate. It was before Desul arrived and she was weak. I said I would try because I wanted to know what it was like to be the Seer. I wanted to know what it was like to have all that power. I wanted to know what it was like to have people serve me. No more having to hide in the shadows, trying to entertain myself in secret. I could do whatever I wanted to anyone and no one would say a thing because I'd be the Seer."

"And?"

"She tried to join with me. Called me an abomination. Can you imagine? Her, calling me an abomination. She said I contaminated her with the things in my head."

"She spat you out."

"Yes."

"But there was still a little bit of her in you, a little bit of you in her. It wasn't the end of it. Presumably when she terminated the connection with you, it didn't work correctly. You really did contaminate her, you son of a bitch."

Ronon indicated he'd had enough chit-chat. "Come on. Whatever happened was in the past. It doesn't matter, it can't be undone."

Ronon turned to run, and Rodney moved to join him.

Tibs realized he was about to be abandoned. "What about me?!"

Rodney turned to the pitiful creature writhing in the semi-darkness. "We're leaving you here."

With that, he followed Ronon.

He could hear Tibs screaming his rage all the way out of the tunnel and back into the deserted room.

((--))

Carson had manhandled Sheppard out of the belly of the beast. Not one of the monks had helped him. They were too busy fretting over the lack of a response from Machine.

"Machine? Machine, why do you not answer us?" It was Benevolent Father and he sounded as if his child had died. But he'd also stepped closer to the opening, mesmerized by the prospect of being able to step inside her for the first time. The others also crowded around.

Carson blocked the din out, and concentrated on his patient. He grabbed a wrist, got a rapid pulse, and the same respiration rate of twenty breaths per minute. Being immersed in the goo of Machine had probably accelerated the dehydration process and the solution that Carson had forced into Sheppard hadn't made much of a difference.

He hadn't a clue what to do next. What he needed was the radio headsets in the lining of their coats and there was no way he was leaving Sheppard alone in this room. Then again, Sheppard needed more sophisticated medical help than Carson could possibly give.

Darius dropped down beside him. "Machine has died."

Carson thought denial might be a safe bet. "I don't know what happened to her. All I know is that she stopped what she was doing."

Darius thoughtfully looked over Sheppard, seemed to be considering his options. "If Machine is dead then everything in the Abbey changes."

"I imagine it would," said Carson, distracted and hoping Ronon and Rodney would turn up.

Darius straightened himself up. "If I help you, you must agree to take me with you."

"Take you where?"

"To wherever it is that you live. If Machine is dead, then my place here is in jeopardy. I prefer to make a fresh start."

"You're very pragmatic, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't have survived in this place if I wasn't."

It wasn't like Carson had much of a choice. "I need you to go to the room you assigned to us. There are some devices – they're called radios - in the coat linings. I want you to get them and bring them to me."

Darius didn't acknowledge his request but simply ran off. Leaving Carson with a room full off temporarily bewildered monks and Sheppard, who was muttering under his breath and beginning to shiver from the change in room temperature.

Luckily the chamber had some furnishings in it. Carson got up, went and grabbed a cushion from a chair, ripped down a large tapestry and a set of curtains. Ran back to Sheppard and started covering him up. He slipped the cushion under Sheppard's head. It wasn't going to help with having to lie on a stone floor, but at least his head would be comfortable.

With Sheppard covered up, he sat down and began an anxious wait.

((--))

Rodney and Ronon had run out of the tunnels, through the room, back into the courtyard, taken a short cut through the Seer's room. Rodney was amazed at himself. He was amazed that he had any energy left, or that he could even run considering the pain.

Ronon suddenly stopped and put an arm out to halt Rodney. "We have radios."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"I just did."

"Okay. It's time we called in the cavalry," said Rodney.

"You go grab the radios, I'll get to the chamber, help Carson."

Rodney nodded, not exactly liking the idea of being sidelined but prepared to do what he needed and understanding that in his present condition he was even less useful in a fight. He was turning to leave when Darius headed straight towards them. Ronon intercepted the kid with a punch before Darius had time to go for his knife. Then he hauled him up in a headlock.

"Let me go!"

"Where were you going?"

"Carson asked me to get the…," Darius groped for the right word. "Radios. So he could call for help."

Rodney rapped Darius over the back of the head. He'd been too close to being gutted by the kid to really trust him. "You weren't about to sell us out were you? Maybe sell the radios, or just sell us to someone else?"

"No! Carson said he would take me with you."

"Why would we believe you?"

"Because Carson and the Seer are alone in the room with everyone else. It will not take the monks long to want to make someone pay for harming Machine. There would seem no choice but to trust me."

Rodney signaled that Ronon should let him go and Ronon reluctantly did so. As Darius made off to continue his mission, Rodney felt a warning was in order.

"If you don't come back, Ronon's going to find you and make you pay. He's good at it."

Ronon nodded. "I am."

Darius didn't bother waiting around and took off.

Ronon regarded Rodney with a grudging respect. "I don't believe I'm going to say this, but we actually make a good team."

((--))

Confused monks were not happy monks. Especially when the confusion involved the supposed death of one of the central tenants of their faith. Benevolent Father had waded into Machine, hesitating at first but then with more confidence.

Carson imagined it was like going for a walk through a beached, dead whale.

Carson continued to sit beside Sheppard, ready to get to his feet if they came anywhere near him. He didn't know what he was going to do though. He was a lone Scottish doctor with all the hand-to-hand fighting skills of a marshmallow.

Benevolent Father was climbing out of Machine, his face etched with grief. "There is nothing there. She is gone."

There were murmurings from the monks. All eyes turned to Carson.

"Crap."

((--))

Lorne was drumming out a tune on the console of the jumper. Didn't seem much else to do and it was either that or chew his nails. Behind him, two of the marines were talking about a pretty blond scientist that had shipped in the previous month.

"Hello?"

Lorne stopped drumming. The marines stopped talking. Someone was using the radio headset. It wasn't a voice he recognized.

"Who is this?"

"Darius."

Clearly the mystery caller was big on keeping his conversation to a minimum. "Do you know where Dr. Beckett and Ronon are?"

"Yes."

"You're going to have to give me slightly more than that."

"They are in the chamber. I will tell you how to get there."

"You know, we can find them without any help from you." Lorne called up the HUD and got a position on the radio while the kid kept talking. As an added bonus it seemed the force field had dropped.

He cut radio communication. He didn't need this crap. He was going in with the marines and he was going to get the team out and woe to anyone standing in their way.

((--))

Rodney hit the chamber at full speed, the pain temporarily vanishing and he immediately homed in on the sight of Carson standing alone, fists curled, between Sheppard and the group. They didn't seem ready to charge yet, but they were definitely starting to drift that way. Two monks had drawn their knives. Benevolent Father seemed overcome with grief as he talked to Carson.

"There was no need for cruelty. Machine was kind, she did what she could for us."

"I didn't do a thing."

Rodney didn't bother to stop, just ran all the way up to Carson, Ronon right beside him.

"She's not dead, she's just going through a diagnostic routine." He just didn't bother to mention the whole ZPM overload scenario. No need to panic anyone. Just yet. Right now, he just wanted the monks to stop hassling Sheppard and Carson.

"The Machine lives?"

"Yes. But she won't be back up and running for the day. At least. So you might as well let us go."

There was more muttering, but it seemed that the news had cheered the Benevolent Father up and he didn't seem inclined to kill them any more.

It was still a giant stand-off however.

The two groups stared at each other. Sheppard, in what was becoming a habit, picked the wrong time to show that he was still alive.

He sat upright, got a view of a bunch of people standing around and a pair of hairy legs, compliments of Ronon.

"Hey. What's up?"

Rodney turned around to tell Sheppard to shut up, but Carson bet him to it.

"You need to be quiet for me just now. Do you think you could do that, Colonel?"

It was like trying to argue with a child. He just didn't have a clue. The man in question was now trying to stand up. Rodney watched Carson gesturing for Sheppard to remain where he was, while Rodney also kept an eye on the monks. Ronon, as always, kept his focus on one point only. The monks.

"Colonel, just stay there."

"I'm going home."

Crap, he was going to try and walk out of here. The monks had armed themselves. Benevolent Father bypassed the group and went to put an arm around Sheppard's shoulders.

"Machine will be pleased you are well, Seer. When she is back with us, she will be anxious to start again." It seemed Benevolent Father's concern for Sheppard had been overridden by his love for Machine.

Sheppard shrugged him off, the news of Machine penetrating what was left of his cognitive abilities. "I won't go back in there. Never."

"You are joined. Machine loves you."

The pilot found a surge of energy, pushed hard against Benevolent Father. "I'm never going near her again!"

"Now, now, I know it has been difficult for you but I am sure it will get better."

Benevolent Father had Sheppard's wrist and was tugging him over to a chair. Sheppard pulled against him with no strength to fight.

Rodney decided he'd had quite enough of bullies masquerading as good guys and of people with double-standards and zero backbone. He was also pretty sure that Ronon could hold off the other four monks and Carson appeared to have the same idea.

Carson didn't like anyone messing with Sheppard either.

Rodney went up to Benevolent Father and punched him right in the face. This time his aim was better and Rodney got him on the nose. The satisfaction of hearing the Benevolent Father's nose crunch actually outstripped the possibility of breaking his knuckles.

Benevolent Father let go of Sheppard. Sheppard, now in a blind panic ignored Carson and Rodney and made a beeline for the fireplace. He grabbed a poker, went for a far corner, crouching down low, clutching his weapon for all it was worth.

Rodney could understand that. Quite frankly, he was briefly annoyed that he hadn't spotted the poker himself. It could do some damage in the right hands.

Benevolent Father was gushing blood, and he was holding his nose while staining his pretty robes. The monks had given up standing around and now rushed Carson, Rodney and Ronon.

The impending melee was interrupted by the sounds of weapons fire. The doors crashed open, and Lorne and a team of marines took over the room.

"Drop your weapons or we fire!"

No one made a move. Lorne fired a volley of warning shots from the P-90 above their heads.

The knives hit the floor.

"Oh, thank God," said Rodney.

((--))

Sheppard had wedged himself into a corner. There was the sound of weapons fire. Shouting. He was in trouble. But he had his own weapon. He would kill anyone that came near him.

They told him that she loved him, in her own way. He was never going back to her.

Ever.

End of Chapter Ten