DOOM!

A/N: Your reviews give me strength as I continue my search. Julie! Julie! You've contacted me again! Damn those lizards and their horrible seaweed wrap! I will find you, my dearest! I will find you! I have located the PO of Box but am frustrated by its tiny tiny size. Certainly a few lizards could set up shop in there, but my bovine beauty as well? I am confused. The "postal office" smells strangely and I am closely observed by their security lackey.

Frustrated by this latest development, I have exited to the coffee emporium across the roadway. I will enjoy another mochachino as I access the interweb and bring you yet another portion of my tale to end all tales! They might as well shut down the interweb after this is finished because NONE shall be superior than this. Who is in charge of the interweb? Inform this person now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN

Elizabeth slumped with relief as Sheppard reported that he had found Beckett, Teyla and Ronon, and was getting them safely on board the jumper. She tapped her radio to tell him so, when, as if to mock her relief, the engines took that moment to come alive again.

And this time, Rodney would not be reversing them. He'd be relying on the air-pockets. Although more slowly than normal, Atlantis would now submerge fully if something drastic didn't happen soon.

Suddenly, a massive shudder ran through the control room, different from the ones before. Elizabeth fell hard into a console, not expecting it. Down below, the hundred or so people crammed into the gateroom cried out in fear where they were tumbling into each other.

"Rodney!" Elizabeth slapped her earpiece, nearly boxing her own ear with the ferocity of the motion. "I thought you weren't going to reverse the engines again!"

A half-second later, the city regained its stability, but no one dared move for a moment, staring around at the central tower as if the whole thing might suddenly upend.

Elizabeth shared completely confused glances with Chuck, and slapped her radio again (this time a little more calmly). "Rodney! Answer me! What the hell was that?!"

"Sorry!" he called back, sounding breathless. "That was one of my air pockets filling with water! The hacker is working to undo my preventative measures. He knocked out one of my bilge pumps—but I've got them back online. But...gah! Oh...not good, not good, not good...Radek! What are you doing? Sleeping at the switch? You need to help me forge forward, remember?"

Elizabeth shut her eyes, then opened them again. "Rodney, I think it's time we faced facts. Even with the extra time you have gotten us, can you stop the city from sinking before it is fully submerged?"

"Yes." There was a pause, then, "Maybe."

"Yes or maybe, Rodney? I need to know. How long will before the city is fully submerged?"

Another pause. "Ten, fifteen minutes tops. More like ten."

Elizabeth shut her eyes, then opened them again. "Then you have to focus on opening the jumper bay doors to the gateroom."

"Don't you think I've been trying to do that? That Zelenka's been trying to do that?" Rodney snapped. "But, of all the things he's done, the hacker has locked the jumper bay doors leading to the gateroom tighter than anything except his control on the engines. He wants us to die, Elizabeth! Don't you get it?"

She heaved a sigh. Yeah—she did. "Look, we have hardwired the Gate so that it has power from a generator," she prompted. "All we need to do is access the DHD, and we could evacuate people off the city."

"I know!" McKay snapped. "While we're asking for the moon, can I ask for a Nobel prize? That'd be nice."

"Rodney," Elizabeth said.

"I...damn it! Hang on, he's attacking another of the bilge pumps! Hold on!"

The city quaked again, and Elizabeth held her breath until it was over. Breathing out heavily, she called, "Rodney?"

"Here. Sorry. What were we…? Oh yes, the DHD. Sure, if the DHD was working we could all go skipping merrily along with Lorne on the planet of the Amazon women," McKay went on. "And we could all get the snot beat out of us when we ask them why they all have mustaches, because I swear, last time I was there…"

"Rodney, wait!" Zelenka called, filled with the exuberance of someone with an idea. "Didn't you resolve the issue with the DHD in the Gateroom before the power was lost?

"Yes, yes," the angry crackle of Rodney's voice came back at him. "Try to keep up! Fat lot of good a working DHD does when it has no power!"

Radek continued, oblivious to the snark. "So the issues that were affecting the Ancient equipment were fixed on the DHD, correct? It was offline before the hacker's latest assault so it should be clean."

"Right, right," McKay softly intoned.

"If we were to wire a naquadah generator directly to that location like the one Elizabeth said is now attached to the gate—we could dial out, yes?" Radek tried. "With no power to activate the other systems, and the generator wired directly, the DHD would be isolated, and…"

"And our hacker wouldn't be able to access it remotely!" Rodney responded. "Yes! Get over there, Radek! Take care of it."

"Yes," Radek responded darkly. "I'll jump right up on my one good leg and do that."

There was a short pause, as Rodney obviously realized the situation. "Assign someone, anyone! I'm kind of trapped here at the moment."

"I can do it," a voice sounded from Elizabeth's left. She nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to look at the tall form hovering over by the doors to the main hall. Her eyes widened.

"Dr. Nguyen?"

He gave a nod. "I just came up from the infirmary—I've been helping the medical personnel evacuate the equipment they need. I've been listening in," he tapped his ear. "I…" He trailed off as marines surrounded him on all sides, and several had their weapons up. "Um…" he looked at a loss, then turned back to Elizabeth. "Dr. Weir? I…I don't know what's happening, but I have access to McKay's lab. I can get a generator and get up here in a minute. I…I, uh…" He looked at the marines again.

Elizabeth frowned. "That might not be the best idea," she said quietly.

The scientist swallowed. "But I…I can do this. I can take care of everything related to the DHD," Nguyen assured. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and Elizabeth grimaced.

"You need him, Elizabeth," Rodney said then. "He's right."

Elizabeth dipped her head, then looked up at him again. "I think it may be best if we send someone along with you," she commented.

"Sure," Nguyen said. "But I can handle it, Dr. Weir. I've worked with the generators, and I know the DHD system as well as Zelenka and McKay." There was a pause, and he seemed to stand taller. "…Probably better," he added.

"I—"

"And I need to go now. Ten minutes, right? "

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed to slits, but she nodded. "Go." She looked at the marines, "And go with him."

They nodded as a group, and then all of them were gone.

There was a pause, then Rodney finally spoke again. "Right, well, glad that's settled," he snarled. "I'm going back to trying to get the engines to turn off."

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The minute the jumper door closed, Sheppard was out of his seat. Teyla, Ronon and Beckett had collapsed in the cabin like so many heaps of wet laundry.

Teyla was sitting on the floor with her back to the closed door. Her bloodshot eyes tracked his movements around the cabin, as if it was too much effort to move any other part of her body. Water dripped steadily from her snarled hair, diluting the blood seeping from a deep cut on her forehead. She cradled a bloodstained arm close to her body.

Beckett was sprawled face-down on the floor, coughing wetly. He, at least, was making some effort to rise. He'd made it as far as his elbows and one knee, muttering under his breath between coughs. Sheppard caught him under the armpits and heaved him up on the padded bench beside Ronon, who was bleeding over everything in sight.

"Jesus," Sheppard muttered, shucking out of his jacket and using it as a makeshift pressure pad on the mess that used to be Ronon's shoulder. Beckett batted his hands away and applied pressure to the bleeding wound himself, still coughing.

"Twice," the doctor muttered in a tone of vast disgust. "Once, I could understand. Could happen to anyone. But twice? Staring down the gullet of a great bloody shark twice in as many days? That tears it." The doctor glared up at Sheppard, who took an involuntary step back from the maniacal gleam in the man's eyes.

He gave a weak smile, and saw Beckett's eyes narrow. "You, uh," Sheppard tapped Beckett's soaked leg, "you okay?"

"No." Beckett loosed one hand to point up at the first aid kit on the shelf. "Get me that."

Sheppard hurried to comply, only half listening to the conversation streaming in over the radio in his ear. Rodney, Elizabeth and Radek were talking about getting the DHD fixed. He heard something about Dr. Nguyen, and he paused. They found Nguyen?

"Colonel!" Beckett called. "The kit!"

Sheppard shook himself, and turned, popping open the kit and handing it to Beckett. He looked over at Teyla.

"How are you?"

"I am fine," she said quietly. Sheppard gave a small smile. Her appearance belied that statement, but she knew that. He needed to get them to the infirmary.

Turning, he gave the doctor's soggy shoulder a tentative pat, then beat a hasty retreat back to the pilot's chair. The front window was streaked with shark guts and other unidentifiable bits of alien fish parts. He grimaced at the view for a moment, then wrenched the jumper around to look back at the city.

And gasped.

It was going down. Water was a third of the way up the central tower, and it was descending fast. The air pockets were clearly slowing it down some, but…Perhaps infirmary was not the safest place right now.

"Doc," he called.

"Yeah?" Beckett answered.

"Can Ronon wait?"

There was a pause, "Not for long, but yes." Then, "Why?"

Sheppard looked back at the others, shook his head at them, and started listening more carefully to what Rodney and the others were saying.

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The city shuddered again, painfully—the tower was beginning to feel like a toothpick someone had stuck in a pile of wobbling jelly. Still gripping the back of Chuck's chair, Elizabeth looked down at the tech's laptop, hating the fact that she didn't believe Rodney would succeed. Not in time. He was spending almost all of his time just trying to keep his airpockets whole—there was no way he would stop the engines in the ten minutes he'd described.

"Rodney," she called. "How—"

"Damn it..." Rodney snapped, cutting her off. "Christ, he's infected everything useful! The only way I'm going to fix this is if I can shut everything down and reset all the systems all at once, and the only way to do that is…"

And he suddenly trailed off.

Elizabeth straightened slightly. She knew that sort of pause, she could feel it in her bones. And so did Radek.

"Rodney?" Radek said, sounding excited again.

There was a long silence, then, "Oh hell, why didn't we think of that before?"

"I know." Radek replied, still sounding thoughtful. "But we could, couldn't we? Shut everything down."

"We should have done it in the first place," Rodney said.

"Obviously, but we didn't, because you didn't know what he was doing until too late. But we can still do it now, yes?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Think about it, Radek. For one thing—"

"Rodney!" Elizabeth frowned, annoyed because they were talking over her again. "Radek, stop that. What are you talking about?"

"Disconnecting the ZPM, of course," Rodney answered. "What did you think we were talking about?"

Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and focused on the idea. "Would that do it?" she asked them. "Would it shut everything down? Would it at least shut off the engines?"

There was silence on the radio for a moment, then Rodney answered, "I...well, yes, but..."

"But?" she prompted.

"Well, two buts, really. One, I think the city may have already taken on too much water. You shut off the ZPM, we're still going to sink..."

"Yes, but," Radek said, "if you can reset the system quickly enough, and we plug the ZPM back in—theoretically, the engines could then drive us back to the surface, couldn't they?"

"I...yes, possibly. Without the engines, the city would take hours to sink instead of minutes, and I'd only need maybe half an hour to reset everything…yes. " Rodney sighed, "It's a good idea, but that doesn't solve the second problem."

"Which is?" Elizabeth asked.

"The ZPM room is at the base of the Central Tower, and...it's underwater," Rodney answered. "I can't get to it from here. No one can, not unless they can hold their breath for a really, really long time."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "But if we could get down there somehow—a dive team, something—could you—?"

And ear-splitting squeal exploded in her ear, and Elizabeth cried out, pulling the radio out. It only lasted a moment, but when she put the earpiece back in, all she got was static.

"Rodney?" she called. "Rodney!"

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Zelenka was typing away, listening to Elizabeth when there was a curious little pop over the earpiece followed by a squeal. Zelenka tugged the earpiece away as the sound became piercing. "Rodney?" he called into the mic as he held the speaker away from his ear. "Rodney, are you still there?"

And only the wail was returned, and no amount of adjusting would correct the situation on any of their channels.

He scowled.

The hacker was in the communication system again! At least the citywide system was separate from their military radios. Radek quickly switched programs on his laptop. He clicked, trying to access citywide communications, but found nothing – down – dead – off line.

"Marná práce," he muttered. The hacker had shut down both communication systems at once? What were they dealing with?

Now what? He glanced about, unable to see anyone near him.

"Hello?" he called, but there was no response.

With a frustrated groan, Zelenka returned his attention to the laptop, returning to his work of protecting Rodney's fixes. He scurried after his boss's work like a terrier.

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"Whoa, whoa," Sheppard said, tapping his radio. "What the hell?" He looked across at the city, now a third of the way down…and still going. "Rodney. Elizabeth. Radek. Someone!" He tapped his radio again.

"What is happening?" Teyla asked, walking (mostly) steadily up to where John was sitting in the pilot's chair. She slid into the seat next to him with a soft squelch. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the city. She turned that wide-eyed gaze on him. "Has everyone been evacuated?"

Sheppard clenched his hands into fists.

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"Radek!" McKay shouted again, but there was no response on the radio. "Sheppard?" he tried, hopefully accessing the city's systems, trying to reach Sheppard directly but finding no success.

His expression fell as he realizing he'd have no way of knowing if Carson, Teyla and Ronon were okay. Sheppard hadn't given him any real status on them.

Damn.

He momentarily considered opening an instant messaging session to communicate with Zelenka, or Weir or anyone, or to send a tersely worded email, but there was no time to tap out a conversation. Wasn't he doing enough already?

And, knowing this hacker as McKay had come to know him, Rodney figured that the IM and email systems were already offline.

Fingers flew across his keyboard as he tried to undo everything their hacker had broken. He noted the firewalls that came up almost automatically behind him, and recognized Zelenka's work.

Thank goodness. He didn't think he could keep repairing his repairs while keeping up with any new damage. Rodney sighed as he chose to forget about communications for the time being, instead going back to the bilge pumps, trying to keep the city buoyant, creating air pockets, attempting to slow the engines. Let the hacker have communications for now.

Who was Rodney going to talk to anyway? He was busy enough as it was without holding side conversations. And Sheppard was too busy to speak to him.

He was too busy to feel lonely.

He glanced toward the doorway where Sheppard had disappeared, hoping he'd gotten to Ronon and Teyla and Carson in time. God, he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to them.

Maybe it was better that he didn't know.

McKay's eyes darted across the displays as he worked at the engines, checking for the latest target for attack. He attempted to roll his sore shoulder, but stopped with a start. No… no need to aggravate it any more, he thought and wished he'd remembered what had happened to his sling. He shouldn't need it anymore, but his shoulder was really aching.

How could this have happened? How could he have let this happen?

The engines still worked, still dragged at the city, bringing it down inch by inch in spite of every attempt Rodney made to slow it. He'd managed to lessen some of the power going to the engines by powering up redundant systems and getting power back to the doors, and to inflate areas like a pool toy – but it wasn't enough.

The ZPM. They needed that ZPM shut down.

Fingers raced across the keyboard, chasing, undoing, correcting, fixing.

The city shuddered again.

Damn it! Damn it! The hacker was back at work, breaking his air pockets.

This guy was good – but Rodney McKay was better. If he could just keep the guy busy until power was cut to the city...or at least until everyone could be evacuated, if they couldn't get anyone down to the ZPM room. Yes, if he could manage that, they'd stand a chance. He could do it as long as nothing new cropped up.

A sudden thudding boom shook the room.

Rodney jolted back, hands drawing back from the keyboard. His heart galloped. What the hell was that?

Somewhere above him, something raced, something rushed, something roared. He gazed upward in wonder.

What had the son of a bitch done now?

What was that sound? He studied it, cocking his head, and then the realization struck him.

Oh God.

He hunkered over his laptop, feeling the ache in his shoulder as he searched out new answers.

Great… just… great.

Three floors above him, the sensors had gone dead.

Hands fluttered over the keyboard as he searched the situation. Damn, the entire level was filled with water.

Freakin' great! Why the hell did the hacker have to do that?

Wait… wait… A check of the systems told him that the hacker wasn't behind his latest issue – no, it was a simple matter of physics. They were sinking. Doors that were never meant to be underwater were now submerged.

Doors had failed, and the sea rushed in.

He could hear the inner doors giving way with a kathump, kathump, kathump as water raged through the floor, knocking everything out of its way.

Oh God. He tried not to picture the destruction, the rush of water, the flood above his head, so instead he fixated on another flood – in another time – a time outside of his own. He remembered the story that old Weir had told them, of the flooding control room, of how he'd stayed behind in his attempt to save them – and ultimately failed.

He'd always thought that it must have been horrifying – to just stand there and await the water – await one's own drowning.

So many had died in that alternate reality. And he stiffened, resolving not to let that happen this time – no, not this time.

The flooded floor was unoccupied, he reminded himself. No one was there. Everyone should be in the top tower or in the jumpers by now. No one is down here.

He frowned as he surveyed the damage report on the computer display. He couldn't pressurize the floor – the door was gone. He could run the bilge pumps until they fried, but the space would only refill instantly.

There was nothing he could do.

It was okay. He had empty floors above him. Nothing to worry about. That was a fine barrier. He'd be fine.

Above him, he could hear the uncomfortable creak and groan of strained seams, as water pressed in three floors above him. The water was rising as the city continued to sink – he watched the progress, trying to ignore the implications as upper floors continued to flood.

He still had two empty floors above him, and he continued to work against the hacker.

"Not a problem," he said to himself, mostly just to hear a reassuring voice. He ignored the timidity in the tone. "Not a problem at all."

Good God, would any of them survive this?

His hands kept moving at the keys.

And then BOOM!

He jerked in surprise as he felt the room shake. He trembled.

Above him, closer now, water roared and rushed and poured. Eyes wide, he lifted his head, gazing at the ceiling as hundreds of gallons of water filled the space two floors up.

The city creaked around him, not ready for the extra stress.

He remembered the jumper sinking, flooding, freezing. It had been terrible. He remembered water up to his neck as he struggled to hold out.

"Okay, okay," he murmured. "You still have an empty floor in-between you and certain death. That's plenty of room. Plenty of time."

Hands froze for a moment as he debated pulling up stakes and making a run for the jumpers. He could take a ship, and help with evacuating people from the outer reaches of the city.

It sounded like a good idea. It would be heroic even – saving the stranded.

Warnings flashed on his laptop, reminding him of other problems. If he left this room, he wouldn't be able to access the necessary systems. The hacker would win.

With a lurch the city dipped again, throwing him sideways. He struggled to regain his seat, checking the systems again as he rubbed his arm. What now? Another air pocket in a far section of the city had filled in.

"Oh, you think that'll stop me?" he asked the air, as he sealed off the latest section, accessed the pumps, and worked at righting this problem. He might not be able to empty the floors above him without completely unbalancing the city, but he could fix this.

The city settled again.

"Think you're so smart, do you?" McKay asked. "Ha! I took care of that in no time! Consider who you're dealing with here!"

Two floors above him, components shrieked and popped under the strain of the water.

How much time did he have left? The ZPM… someone was going to take care of that, right? And the DHD, Larry Nguyen was going to fix that. People would be saved. If they could just evacuate everyone…

The next blast shook the room as if an earthquake had struck, sending McKay to the floor. Above his head, water rushed. He heard it surging clearly – roaring. Minor doors blew out as the water raged, taking out every room on the floor, filling the space above him. He imaged desks and chairs surging, little leftover bits of Ancient technology swimming like salmon in the current.

He struggled to get to his feet, to return to his laptop. Hands flew again, desperate to stop the hacker before it was too late. He only had so much time left.

He didn't want to drown. Not like this.

God, he didn't want to die.

The ceiling seemed to dip, as the horrible popping continued.

He remembered going to an aquarium, and that unsettling sensation as he walked through an exhibit where the fish swam right over his head. There was something wrong about walking under so much water – something so very wrong.

Water was rushing into the stairwells, coming down to his level.

There were other heavy doors there. The doors would stop it.

Running a hand over his forehead, he went back to his work. I have to stop him, he thought. I must.

Water was leaking onto his floor. He could hear it, hissing in at the heavy stairway doors. But that was fine, because, after that door was breeched, there were five doors leading into this room, and they were all heavy duty. The doors to this room would stand between himself and the deep blue sea, they would protect him.

Maybe he could try to block the door with something.

With what?

Not far from him, water squealed and rushed and squeezed its way around every obstruction. He could picture doors buckling, bowing as the water kept pushing, kept shoving. There were flooded floors above his head, and all that pressurized water would come rushing in when the stairway doors failed.

And then there'd be only the doors to this room left and if those final doors gave way… he'd drown.

He found himself hardly able to breathe as he stared down at his laptop. He blinked, seeing that the hacker still hacked. With a blink to clear his mind, he went back to work, because, what else could he do?

Water slammed into the doors, shaking him to his core. The water had finally forced back the stairway doors. The force of the water, rushing in under all the pressure, was filling this, the deepest floor of Atlantis, flooding nearly everything.

Everything except Auxiliary.

But it wouldn't last long.

TBC

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A/N: McKay shall be swimming soon. I hope he remembered to bring his trunks. Har har har! Leave me many reviews to praise me and tell me of your love for me.

I have thawed my ass with much hot chocolate. He is behaving better now. After a similar thawing with this mysterious "chai tea', the miniature horse wants to return to the bunker to continue her strange isolation in the wall space. She no longer wants to pull the snow blower. I send her out to clear out the coffee emporium's parking lot. The establishment's owner now gives me coffee products 'on the house'. I decide to stay 'within' the 'house' instead and let the owner know such. The ass and I enjoy hot beverages.

We watch the "PO", and Cindy as she makes another circuit of the lot. She missed a spot. We let her know.