Chapter 16, part 2.

She was sat on the floor, her legs crossed, with the jacked pulled around her, eyes closed, mouthing the lyrics to Queen's Keep yourself alive—a very apt song, she thought—when she heard the rattle of a key in the keyhole. She hadn't noticed the footfalls—her senses were dulled—but she couldn't miss that sound. She opened her eyes just in time to see the door open and people standing on the threshold. There was light coming from behind them, and though in normal circumstances it wouldn't be considered particularly bright, it nearly blinded her. She didn't see who it was who stepped inside her cell and yanked her off the floor. She stumbled as they dragged her out, her body refusing to cooperate after the long period of stiff inactivity, weak from hunger and dehydration. She didn't even have the strength to raise her head to look around, but she recognized the mahogany table as they finally deposited her on a plush chair, quite roughly. The feast was still there; if anything, it looked even more extravagant now. It took Alice an uncommonly long time to notice that Lorne was not next to her this time. Finally she looked up.

The Wraith was sitting on his throne, one leg hanging over the armrest in a pose that so clashed with how his species usually comported themselves—ramrod straight—that Alice blinked quickly, thinking that she was imagining it. But he didn't disappear.

"Hello, Captain," he said in his low, guttural voice, smiling slyly. "How are you doing now? Did you find your accommodations adequate?" And he laughed; a cold, high-pitched chuckle that conflicted with his normal voice about as much as the entirety of his persona stood in contrast with a normal Wraith.

Alice didn't say anything. She found herself blinking in the bright light coming through the high windows, her head swimming with pain, her muscles protesting the laughable exertion of putting one foot in front of the other as she'd been dragged through the corridors. And her hands were trembling as she looked at all the food and drink laid on the table in front of her, all her will now focused on not launching herself onto it.

"You show admirable restraint, Captain," the Wraith continued, his tone almost amused. "But I assure you, resistance is futile. Your companion has understood that, haven't you, Major?"

Alice didn't manage to turn around fast enough to see him speak, but she recognized the familiar voice as Lorne replied: "Yes, master!"

There were five people behind her now. Utkin and three of his men—and Major Lorne. His eyes looked as empty as theirs. He stared straight ahead, almost without blinking, his back straight. But she noted that he looked haggard and emaciated, and guessed that he went through similar ordeal as she had. Not finding any words, she silently turned back. Her movements were slow, deliberate and careful, calculated to cause as little pain to her wrecked body as possible.

"So you see, even the most willful mind can be broken." The Wraith made a gesture as if snapping a twig between his hands. He then laughed again and pretended to throw away the two invisible halves. As he dropped his arms back down, the smile on his face faded, too. He looked cold and forbidding again when he spoke next: "Now, Captain, your turn. Eat."

The last word was laced with that same power that had Alice reaching out before she had realized what she had been doing during their first meeting. She had been able to resist then. Now it was a hundred times worse—her own body and mind were in accord with the command. Yes, she needed to eat. More than that, she needed to drink. Complying would give it to her. It would be so easy. Just reach out and take the glass. Full of cool, clear water. She could almost feel how it would feel on her dry mouth, parched throat, how it would revive, revitalize her…

But she didn't move. She had been expecting this. She was exhausted, weak, thirsty, starving. But her mind was sound again. If he hadn't waited so long—if he had collected her before she found her salvation, when she had been in the dreamlike haze of her semi-consciousness… maybe it would be different. But she had found her salvation, something to keep her sane, something to focus on when there was nothing else.

He frowned, which distorted his freaky face in a ghastly sort of way. He then dropped his leg from the armrest, sat straighter, and put his hands down on the table with a thump. "EAT!" He ordered again, raising his voice.

Alice trembled with the power of the command. It bent her mind to his will, making breathing hard, sending paroxysm of pain through her tortured body. She grasped the handles of her chair and bit her own lip, hard. The bitter taste of the blood felt good, because it was moist. She almost laughed at that and then looked up at the Wraith again.

His eyes were measuring her curiously, up and down. "You impress me, Captain," he admitted reluctantly. "You are stronger than any of your kind so far. Brava," he added, and the word sounded incongruous in his mouth. Wraith don't talk like that, Alice thought through the fog in her head. What are you?

"Maybe I should let you rot in that dungeon for a little while longer," he mused, relaxing his position again, though he didn't bring his leg back up. "Would that work, I wonder?"

Alice looked at him as hardily as she could, but she didn't trust her voice yet. Her breathing was hard and laborious, and she shivered, though not from cold.

He stared at her for a while longer. "No, I don't think it would," he said to himself, quietly, but Alice heard it anyway. "Fascinating. You'd really rather die than break to my will?"

"Yes," she rasped in reply. It was the first word she said out loud—not whispered—since she had last talked with Karim through the window, god knew how many days before. She wondered what had happened to him. She could hardly believe he'd bend to the Wraith's will, but how else could she explain his absence in his cell? Unless he was dead. But that thought was just a shade too alarming for her at the moment and she pushed it out of her mind for now.

"Complete denial of survival instinct," the Wraith continued in a half-amused and half-puzzled tone. "I wonder if it's specific to you, or if it is in any way connected to your DNA. Oh, how I wish I had gotten your brother as well as you!"

How do you know about DNA? She thought. That's a human word. An Earth word. The Wraith knew about the concept, of course, but they used their own terminology. So how come this one didn't?

At least Jake is not here.

"It will be a real pleasure to examine you, Captain." The Wraith smiled, showing his pointy teeth. Alice was sure it was calculated to scare her. "A pleasure for me, of course. I highly doubt you will like it. But, since I can't break your mind, I will have to force you by breaking your body, I'm afraid. Before that happens, though, you need to get back your strength. You really should eat." This time, there was no command behind the word and Alice looked at him dubiously. "Please," he added, the smile still on his face.

She considered it for a moment. There was no doubt that he could manipulate her even without his weird mind tricks, and while it absolutely made sense to resist the latter lest he turn her into a drone like Utkin or Lorne—would it make as much sense to remain obstinate when there was no danger of that? The fact was, she needed water and food. If she were to have any chance of surviving this—she would settle on that if she could not escape—she needed her strength. And so, looking the Wraith in the eye the whole time, she reached out with trembling hand and took a glass.

The first sip was everything she had expected and more. The water was cold, and clear, and it seemed to almost get absorbed by the cells in her mouth and throat, and she could literally feel it spreading through her esophagus and stomach. She made herself take small, measured sips, and held the glass in both her hands, for fear of dropping it. She trembled all over, and shivers were still climbing up and down her back.

"Good girl," the Wraith commented as she put back the empty glass and reached out for food. He observed in silence as she ate for several minutes. Alice avoided his curious eyes now; the look on his face was quite off-putting.

"Isn't hunger wonderful?" The Wraith broke the silence eventually. "If you think about it, it's the only thing that truly unites us. All living organisms must eat. Even bacteria do. I find it fascinating. Remove food out of the equation, and all creatures must perish. But give them abundance… and they become slow and greedy. It's all about finding that perfect balance, you see. Just enough to live on… not enough to grow slothful." He stood suddenly and his voice changed from low and musing to clipped and harsh again. "Take her back to her cell."

The little food and water that she'd had was not enough to quench her first or satiate her hunger, but it was enough to allow her to actually fall into deep, reviving sleep, for the first time in what seemed like ages. Previously she had only been existing somewhere between wakefulness and dream, without really resting. Now, when she woke up, she felt herself again. No more visions, and the fog in her brain was receding, too.

About an hour after dawn—she became aware of the passage of time again, as well—she heard footsteps in the corridor. The door opened before she managed to collect herself from the ground, but this time, she was not subjected to any yanking or dragging. Instead, Major Lorne entered her cell with a tray full of food, deposited it on the ground next to the entrance, and without one glance at her, retreated from the room. Before the door closed she saw that they weren't taking any chances; he was still flanked by Utkin and his men.

These visits became a regular occurrence, three times a day, like clockwork. Alice drank and ate, and slept, and in the meantime tried to figure out a way to escape, but until something in her situation changed, she didn't see any way of doing that. Even at the height of her strength, she wouldn't be able to deal with one highly trained soldier such as Lorne, much less five. And who knew how many others were there. Was Cooper also broken, did he serve the Wraith? Did Karim? Was there any way to get someone back once their mind was bent to the Wraith's will?

Hearty, regular meals and plenty of water and rest did wonders to bring back her strength. She knew the long-term effects of god knew how many days of starvation and dehydration would not be so easy to eradicate, and she still felt weak compared to how she'd been before ending up in this place, but at least she could move around without pain. She took to pacing her tiny cell back and forth again and even doing some simple exercises, to get her blood flowing, and her muscles working.

Finally, something changed. On the morning of the fourth day, her meal didn't come at the regular time. She waited, but it was still delayed; her pacing became a bit more nervous as she considered possible reasons. Did the Wraith—she called him Jareth in her mind—intend to starve her again? Was this some sort of sick game he played? Did he want her to submit to him so bad that he'd risk her dying? Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe he was engaged with something—maybe there was rescue afoot? She knew Atlantians would search for them. Now that they knew there was something afoul… they would not just stop looking for them, would they?

It was almost noon when something finally happened. The door to her cell opened and Utkin appeared with one of his men. Lorne and the two others—Alice felt a bit ashamed for not remembering their names—were not there.

She was grabbed tightly, as previously, and dragged through the empty corridors again. This time, however, they seemed to be going in a different direction; they went up only one flight of stairs and then made some way into the building, before entering a new room. It was rather larger than the chamber where the Wraith had his throne, and much darker. There were no windows here, the light was coming off from a few crescent-shaped electrical lamps on the ceiling, which looked completely out of place in this stone construction. They weren't the only things that looked incongruous, though; the room was full of what looked like medical equipment combined with chemical lab. Interspersed between them were a couple of computer consoles. In an empty space in the middle of all this stood the Wraith, and behind him, Lorne with the two remaining men from Utkin's team. The three of them were holding someone up, his head drooping, his knees half-bent. Alice felt her heartbeat quicken as she recognized who it was.

"Jake!" She cried and struggled against the hold the Russians had on her, in vain. Her voice echoed in the chamber and all it did was make the Wraith turn around and smile at her slyly.

"Aaah, Captain, how nice of you to join us. I wanted you to be here for this."

Utkin and his man dragged her closer and planted her in front of her brother, just a few paces away. She threw a frenzied look around him, but he looked normal—he looked okay, just groggy. He raised his head at her and she saw relief in his eyes. She didn't know how long she was gone—but he must have been so worried… Why did you let yourself get caught!

"You may remember that I was wondering if your admirable ability to resist my influence was singular to you, or rather a consequence of your superior gene pool." The Wraith said in a half-amused, half-malicious tone. "I think it's fitting that you can observe our first experiment, don't you?" He turned to Jake and Alice looked at her brother, her eyes pleading now. Please don't let him break you… please be strong.

"Kneel!" "Jareth" commanded, and Alice saw Jake's face go white, and he struggled for breath. Lorne and the others let him go and he stood, teetering, almost bent in half, his arms hugging himself.

"KNEEL!" The Wraith repeated with more force, and Alice felt her own legs tremble from the ricochet of the power now concentrated on her brother. Jake gasped for air once more, and then his knees buckled beneath him.

"You will serve me, now," the Wraith announced, his voice still laced with the force of command. "You will obey me."

Alice saw Jake ball his hands into fists, and then relax. His head went up and he looked straight ahead, his eyes vacant, his face smoothed into a mask.

"Yes, master."

She felt hot tears come unbidden to her eyes and spill on her cheeks. She couldn't look at him like that—an empty shell. She felt her own knees go soft and she would've fallen on the ground had she not been held so tightly. As such, she sagged like a rag doll between Utkin and the other man. And then she caught movement with the corner of her eye, as if Jareth gestured at them, and they let her go. She slid onto the ground and hid her face in her hands, trying to control herself, trying to suppress the sobbing.

"Hah!" The Wraith came closer to her, she felt him near. "Like I said, everybody can be broken. One just needs to know where to apply the pressure." He then turned away. "Sergeant Boyd, please put your sister on the chair and strap her in."

Resistance was futile. Jake picked her up like a child—like she weighed nothing—and carried her a few steps to a reclined chair, so that when he deposited her in it, she was almost lying horizontally. He then strapped her in tightly, using leather cuffs fastened to sides of the chair.

"Jake," she said to him as he was checking his handiwork. "Jake, hear me out. You can break his hold on you. You're strong enough. Jake!"

But it was like talking to a stone. He finished with the straps and stepped back, his eyes as empty as before. Now the Wraith approached her, with a cruel, brutish expression on his odd face. He flicked his hand at Jake and he, Lorne, Utkin and the rest of the men quietly withdrew from the room.

"We don't really need an audience, do we, Captain?" He moved to a table nearby. Alice turned her head but from her vantage point, she couldn't see what he was doing. "Don't waste your breath, my dear. Your brother is gone. He's mine now. Don't worry about him. You should worry about yourself." He stepped back towards her, holding a syringe with a tube attached to it. "I hope you're not scared of needles. I'm gonna need a bit of your blood for analysis… well." He chuckled to himself. "Maybe a little more than a bit."

He had more bottles prepared. Alice was not scared of needles, but even she started to feel queasy as he drew more and more, first from the inside of one elbow, then the other, and then from each hand. He didn't speak as he worked, changing the bottles as they filled up, until there was no more blood flowing. Alice was almost out of it by the time he finished, her head swimming, her brain foggy again. She hardly noticed when he left, but as time went by, she started feeling a little bit better and noticed how much of it was passing. She tried to get herself free of the restraints, but in vain. She noted that the Wraith had actually bothered to apply some bandaging over the punctures. She was relieved that he wanted, or needed her alive, but at the same time, it scared her to think for what could she be needed. And why her? Only because she could withstand his mind tricks? But no… it couldn't be that. He had indented to use her whether they worked on her or not, he had said as much. Something about having to break her body since he couldn't break her mind…

It seemed like a long time before someone came back to remove her restraints and bring her back to the dungeons. She was only thankful that it wasn't Jake. She wasn't sure if she could stop herself from crying if she saw him again that day. She needed time to process that.

It was still early afternoon when Lorne and Utkin deposited her on the ground of her cell. She could tell by the quality of light; so the whole thing couldn't have lasted more than two or maybe three hours. After some twenty minutes more, Lorne came back with a meal for her and the routine continued in the evening, but not the next morning. Alice figured that "Jareth" wanted her to be on an empty stomach. That's how you usually drew blood, wasn't it? Would he want more? What did he need it for? Was he really after her DNA?

They came back for her around noon again. Jareth wasn't yet in the room when they strapped her in and left. A little more alert than the day before, she paid more attention to her surroundings. She noted that the equipment gathered there wasn't homogenous. In fact, it looked like a medley of Wraith tech with that of Genii, Vanir, and even some Ancient, from what she could determine in half a minute that it took to reach the chair. Then she was laid down and she could see very little.

Jareth appeared a few minutes later. He approached her with a cold, but narrow smile, for once not showing his pointy teeth.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Captain. I had to, ah… take some sustenance." He turned around and walked to the nearby computer console—one of Wraith design. "I have to admit I spent all night working on your samples, comparing them with your brother's. He was, of course, happy to provide." He paused to let it sink in. Alice took a deep breath, but otherwise remained still. "You both really have a fascinating set of genes. But I found that it's in the differences that lies the crux, especially in what you call the Ancient Technology Activation gene. But… not only. Not only. And I have to say, I wonder at that. But, before I pronounce you superior to your fellows, however, I need to make sure that the differences aren't coming simply from the fact that you are a female. I've examined females before, of course," he added matter-of-factly, as if he was talking about an animal. "But they were all Pegasus natives, and you Earthlings seem to have a slightly different genetic makeup. Thousands of years of evolution, I suspect, have caused your species to diverge somewhat." He stepped back to her chair and looked down at her. "I cannot wait to dissect you, my dear," he revealed in a conspiratorial tone. "But, alas, I'll have to wait with that. I need to examine you thoroughly alive first. So relax, because today we're gonna have a little lesson in human anatomy. Exciting, isn't it?"

It wasn't, not for Alice. Trapped as she was, she could do nothing to stop him, but his examinations were much, much worse than simple drawing of blood. He began with scanning her with a hand device—much like what Doctor Keller used on Atlantis—and then followed that with more scans with various machines, some hand-held, others he had to wheel her into or under. That was still okay—but after that he began looking at her closely, touching her to check the softness of skin or hardness of a bone, measuring her proportions. He stripped her off her jacket, then removed whatever remained from her pants, and eventually pulled off her bra and panties, and boots. Shivering more from disgust than cold as he continued to pore over her body, she lay naked on the chair, with her eyes not just closed but squeezed shut. And as he went on, he spoke aloud, recording notes to himself.

"Collarbone protruding about a quarter of an inch," he would say with a voice that sounded equal parts business-like and excited, almost thrilled.

Each time, she tensed under his touch, pursing her lips till she tasted her own blood again. Her heart was picking up the pace as he went down her body, and when he grasped her thighs to open them so he could continue, she squeezed them together and cried, "Stop!"

He actually did and straightened out. "Oh, Captain, what is this false modesty? I'm sure it's not the first time you'll have a male between your legs." And he leant over her again, but Alice gathered all her feeble strength and bent out on her back and legs to bring her midriff violently up, hitting him in the face with one of her hips.

"Aah!" He snarled, jumping back, hand over his nose. For once, he sounded and acted like a real Wraith; he fell into a crouch, with the other hand up, his claws out as if he was expecting another attack. It took him only a few seconds to calm down, though, and he stood up straight and looked at his hand—Alice thought it was a very human move, as if he was looking if there was any blood coming from his nose. Perhaps satisfied that there was none, he stepped closer to the chair again. "That was very inconsiderate, Captain Boyd. Now I'm going to have to take precautions." And he turned to the table where he kept the blood bottles the day before and selected a syringe, this time a normal one, full of clear yellowish liquid.

"No, don't…" Alice mumbled, but he didn't heed her. She noted that he did approach her more cautiously now, and, despite her fear of whatever he was about to administer to her, she congratulated herself for the move. A moment later he drove the needle into her arm, pushed the pump, and almost instantly Alice began feeling the numbness spreading over her body. She understood immediately what was in the syringe—a neuromuscular blocking agent. As it dawned on her, she tried to thrash around—an instinctive reaction to panic rising in her chest. But the right side of her body was already immobilized. She tried to speak again, but her face felt numb, too, and she only managed to open her mouth, nothing more. And then, within a few seconds—no more than half a minute—she was fully paralyzed. Only her heart continued to flutter like a caged bird, and she told herself that she needed to squash the panic or else she could hyperventilate—and without any way to combat it physically, she'd probably pass out, and that could lead to respiratory distress… which Jareth would not even notice, probably. He'd realize afterwards that his subject has died, but he'd just shrug and began his prospective dissection…

Afterwards, it was hard for her to comprehend how she had managed to endure it. Of all the horrific things that had happened to her since her capture, she counted this one as the worst. He left her there after he finished looking and prodding, and measuring. She still could not move a muscle, but silent tears fell from her eyes as she worked on keeping her breathing in check. After half an hour, the effects of the drug began to subside, and slowly, she regained feeling in her body. That's when Jake came by to collect her and take her back to her cell. He didn't make her walk, but cradled her in his arms like he used to when they were younger, and carried her down to the dungeon. He never even looked at her, not a muscle twitched on his face as he deposited her on the ground, threw her clothes next to her, and left, closing the door behind him. Alice, who could barely move at this point, rolled onto her stomach, crawled towards the other corner—the one designated as her "bathroom"—and threw up. She then lied on the stony floor, curled up in a fetal position, unable to get up and dress herself, unable to move, unable to think. She felt gross, and unclean, and violated. Even though he didn't do anything more than poke and prod… his awful, almost translucent hand, the hand with the feeding organ on it, with the claws, was in her. It was almost like he really had raped her.

She stayed like this for a long time, until finally she fell into a light, fitful sleep, full of hazy nightmares. When she woke up, it was dark. There was a tray of food on the floor next to her. Slowly, she pushed herself off the ground and sat cross-legged. She put her palms on her knees and closed her eyes, and focused on her breathing. In… and out… in… and out… A few minutes of such unthinking mediation made her feel a bit better. Calmer, at least.

I have to get out of here. She had known this ever since being captured, of course, but the thought had an edge of steel now. Something in her has changed; some door was closed. There was no more if or how. She would have to find a way.

Or die.

She dressed herself before sitting back down to eat. It wasn't easy—she still felt nauseous. But she knew she needed strength, and she was still weak after the days of starvation. As usual, the meal consisted of some vegetables and fruit—some of which must have been local, as she didn't recognize what it was—and a bit of meat. They never gave her any plates or cutlery, but the meat was always so tender that she could tear it apart with her fingers and teeth with no problems. Tonight was no different, except, as she ate, she discovered that there was still a bit of bone in the roast beef. She put it away at the tray and continued her meal for several minutes. And then, as she was raising a cup of water to her mouth, she froze.

Bone. From beef. In other words, a cow's bone. A bone.

With a trembling hand, she put down the cup. Early on she considered breaking the cup or tearing up the tray to make a sharp edge, to have some weapon. But they were made of some synthetic polymer, and it wouldn't be easy to break or tear them. And even if she managed to do it, they were regularly collected, it would've been noticed, and she had no hope of dealing with any of these men without an element of surprise. And they never went by alone.

Except the day before. When Jake brought her down here. Alone. It made sense—she had been affected by the drug, there was no way she'd be able to resist. Not after. But during… she was left alone there. They were sure she would not be able to get out of these restraints. But they were made of leather. And leather could be cut.

And now she had a bone. A bone that could be broken in half and sharpened. Like a primitive knife.

She took a deep breath. Let's not get too excited. The bone was small and the leather cuffs were wide, though not particularly thick. It was doable. She just needed some time. But it was still the middle of the night, and they always came for her at noon…

"I hope you are in better spirits today, Captain," Jareth said quite brightly as he walked into the room mere seconds after Alice had been strapped in. She cursed him in her head and moved her hand slightly to hide her little knife inside the sleeve of her jacket. It hadn't been easy to make—she had managed to split the bone alright, but sharpening it on the stone walls of her cell had been long and painful work. Her hands still felt sore. But, in the end, she had a few inches of sharpness at her disposal, and it had to be enough. If only Jareth hadn't come so quickly!

Whatever he has in store for me today, I must endure it, she thought. No more neuromuscular blocking drugs for her. She had to be able to move her hand.

"Don't worry, I got quite enough material to pore through from our yesterday's session," he announced as he approached the table to her right. "I just need one more sample from you." And he picked up a short silver knife—a scalpel, Alice realized. Don't panic, she reminder herself.

He pushed up her sleeve on her right hand, and Alice congratulated herself for hiding her little bone knife in the left sleeve. He always worked on her from the right.

Alice grimaced, but managed to stay silent as he cut into her skin on her right forearm. He really did take a sample—a little square, about an inch by inch, of her skin. He put it in a container full of some clear liquid, and then took care to bandage her arm for her.

"Here. That wasn't that bad, now, was it?" He said, chuckled, took the sample and left the room.

Instantly, Alice worked the knife out of her sleeve and started slashing at the leather cuff. It went surprisingly quickly—the leather was supple, soft, although strong. Alice's hand was sore from the night of sharpening against the rocks in her cell, but she had tried to use her right hand more for that, which was now out of commission anyway, pulsating with pain as it was. She didn't know how much time she had—the last two days, someone appeared within half an hour to an hour to take her back to her cell. But that was a laughably small sample, and today it could be different just because someone had a fancy.

Finally, there remained only a thin strip of the leather and she broke it off with one swift tug. Then she half-rose, leant over to her right and removed the second cuff. She almost fell off the chair before she managed to undo the restraints on her legs, but eventually she stood on the floor, breathing quickly. Now what?

Focus, Boyd, she ordered herself. She went first to the table and swiped the scalpel off of it. Her little bone knife made good work of the leather, but it could hardly be counted on as a weapon. Then she ran to the closest computer console. This was what she knew.

The operating system was much like that of more standard Wraith, and she knew it very well. She used a backdoor to crack the security, and quickly went through the directory. It chilled the blood in her veins a little. Literally hundreds and hundreds of pages of research, all divided into subject names. She resisted the urge to check the one labeled Alice Boyd, Earth, and instead moved on to find some information on her surroundings—yes, floor plan, every room clearly marked with its purpose… Down in the dungeons, isolation rooms. On ground floor, secondary lab where she thought she was. Just next to it was primary lab, where she figured the Wraith was going to perform his analyses… Upstairs, audience room. She puffed. Really? The guy thought he was a king, after all. That's why she named him Jareth. It might have been a little disrespectful to David Bowie, but she thought he'd understand she meant it only as a play on Goblin King…

Second floor. Jumper bay. Wait, what? Jumpers? But Wraith couldn't operate those. Yeah, but what did it matter if he had Jake and Lorne under his spell? If he commanded them to fly, they'd fly.

That's my way out, she thought. But she couldn't leave just yet.

Jake. Karim. Cooper. Lorne. Utkin. Lorne's team. Utkin's team. And who knew how many others… they still might be there. She couldn't leave them. Jake had come to rescue her. She couldn't, and wouldn't, leave him behind.

She shut off the console, grasped the scalpel tighter in her hand, and moved to the door.

Moving briskly through the empty corridors, quietly like a ghost, she blessed her excellent recall. The couple minutes she had spent looking at the floor plan were enough to commit it to her memory, and she did not need wander around now. She walked with a purpose, passing through intersections carefully, but quickly; she paused just long enough to listen for a few seconds for sounds of footfalls, and to look around the corners, and then moved on. That way, she reached the front of the castle within five minutes, and stood before a door to what had been labeled on the plan as weapons storage. For a moment she wondered if it had been a fool's errand—surely it would be locked? But then she pushed the handle and the door opened without a sound.

Jareth must have been very sure no intruders could get to the castle. It was probably fortified—Alice speculated in passing if there was anything more than just stone battlements, maybe a moat—and the Wraith had no reason to fear anyone inside. He had a firm grasp on all his mind slaves, and anyone who wasn't broken was kept in the dungeons, whence there was no escape.

The armory was stocked with a surprising array of weapons. Amongst Wraith stunners and Earth guns there were Genii firearms, Satedan rifles, and more primitive bows and swords. Alice chose a stunner, since she didn't intend on killing any of the her fellow Atlantians, and took a Beretta as a backup. She briefly entertained the hope that there would be another Satedan pistol like Ronon wore, but there were only rifles, and those didn't have the cool dual mode of stun vs. kill. I really need to take a closer look at that Ronon's toy once I'm home… She smiled thinking of how Ronon would look if he heard her refer to his precious gun as a toy.

The Wraith stunners were not particularly comfortable to carry around, especially that Alice was still relatively weak; but it was better than having to kill one of her own. Taking a deep breath, she left the armory and retraced her steps to the laboratory. The corridors were still empty; she looked in the room, but there was no one inside, either. Then she moved to the next lab; that's where, she thought, Jareth would be, so she prepared herself carefully before she strode inside, stunner at the ready—but in vain. He was not there. Feeling more than a little stumped, she decided to check upstairs—maybe he was in his throne room, or whatever he called it. But, having reached it, she was confronted with yet another empty chamber. No fire in the fireplace, no feast on the table. Puzzled, she walked towards a window, looked out and realized her mistake.

She had expected Jareth's army to patrol the corridors of the castle, but she now recognized that it was, from his point of view at least, useless. He did not expect an attack from within; the only person in the entire castle, she now saw, that was not bent to his will, was herself. No, he was much more afraid of an invasion from outside.

They stood in various places; there was a small group just in front of the main entrance, and another by the gate, almost half a mile away; the rest were scattered through the lawn on this side of the fence, equidistant to each other. Alice thought she saw also some people standing between trees and bushes on the other side. They were all armed, and all faced outwards, but even so, Alice recognized Utkin and two of his men; and then, with a pang of anguish, she noticed also Cooper and Karim, the former part of the gate crowd, the latter looking lonely in the middle of the road that led to the main entrance. She did not see Lorne or Jake, but, as she watched, suddenly a shape appeared in a distance and quickly grew, approaching the castle. A Jumper, probably coming back from a patrol. It flew somewhere overhead, and a minute later another one—Alice could tell them apart only by the pattern of scratches and scorch marks on the hull—took off and disappeared into thin air over the forest. A change of guards, so to speak.

"Fuck," she breathed. There was no way she could take all of them. She could fire a couple of shots, maybe even take the entire entrance group, but the stunner's effective range wasn't that great, and the moment she moved into the open terrain, she'd be riddled with bullets and energy shots. She could go back to the armory—she had seen a G36K there—take position in a window and try to eliminate as many targets as possible before they'd get back to the castle and found her; but there were enough of them that she didn't see it ending well for herself, despite her superior marksmanship; and then there was also the matter of not killing the good guys. Of course, she only knew for sure her fellow Atlantians were the good guys, but she had to assume the rest of them were just as forced to abide Jareth's will as Utkin, Lorne or Jake.

There only remained one course of action. She had to escape and bring reinforcements. And the quicker she'd get to doing it, the more time she'd have before someone discovered her disappearance.

The double door leading to the Jumper bay on the top floor of the castle was the only one Alice encountered that was locked. Alice almost laughed when she saw it. It looked sturdy and strong, and she would have had a real problem getting through, had it been locked with a key—she didn't have anything that could act as a lock pick. But in this instant, Jareth couldn't help but mistrust such olden solutions, and instead he installed an electronic panel that controlled the door. Alice had no problems removing the cover and shorting the mechanism, which broke the magnetic seal. It was enough to give it a slight push to open the door now.

The chamber was huge, with a retractable roof half-opened. Two Jumpers sat at the opposite ends of the room, both bearing clear signs of intensive usage—scorch marks, scratches, and even dents. At first glance, it looked like there was no one around, but Alice paused at the door anyway, listening intently, and soon enough she heard voices from the craft on her right. They sounded familiar, and, with horror, Alice recognized the low, raspy tones of the Wraith, and higher and sharper ones—belonging to Jake. This could be her chance to take out the King of Goblins—and rescue her brother from his clutches at the same time. But what if there were more people in the Jumper? She would have to be very quick…

She hesitated for a moment too long. Before she made a decision, the voices moved closer and a moment later Jareth, Jake, and two more people—unknown to Alice—emerged from inside the Jumper. Without thinking, Alice brought up the stunner and took aim.

The Wraith saw her first. His face went from calm to surprised to furious in the time it took Alice to pull the trigger. But she wasn't targeting him—he was unarmed. Jake had his P90 and the two others were wearing some sort of energy weapons that Alice had never seen before; she aimed at them first.

"Take her down!" Jareth spat, seething, his voice even rougher than usual. The three men grabbed their guns and brought them up, but before they could shoot, Alice had already fired her stunner, and one of them dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, gracelessly and with an audible thud. Alice managed to fire one more shot, hitting the other man with an energy weapon, and then she had to start moving to evade bullets. She dropped on the ground, hearing them whizz over her head. Jake was not joking around—he was shooting to kill. She rolled on the floor—which was smooth here, no more bulging stones—and then jumped to her feet, raising the stunner in a swift motion. I'm sorry, brother, she thought and squeezed the trigger. She missed; Jake was now in motion too, and she saw from the corner of her eye that Jareth took shelter inside the Jumper. She turned, almost twirled around, inadvertently getting closer to the other spacecraft, saw it and launched herself in that direction, still followed by a rain of bullets. Hiding behind its corner, she took a deep breath, dropped to her knee, and looked around, stunner at the ready. As she predicted, Jake took his shot, but he measured high, expecting her to stand; before he corrected his mistake, Alice squeezed the trigger again. She cringed, watching his body go limp and fall to the ground.

"It's over!" She called to Jareth, standing back up but still hiding behind her Jumper, looking around the corner. He could have a weapon inside, she needed to be careful.

"I don't think so!" He cried back, and at the same moment Alice felt a sting in her arm. Baffled, she watched the stunner fall out of her hand and didn't understand what was going on until she noticed a dark spot, growing quickly, on her upper arm. Then the training kicked in and she twisted her body, pulling her backup Beretta with her left hand—she had put it in the waistband of her pants at the small of her back—and trailing it around, a little frantically, to see who had been shooting.

Karim was standing in the door—must have followed her in. She had seen him outside only minutes before, but he didn't look like he ran—but then again, he rarely showed any outward signs of fatigue. For a moment, Alice looked into his eyes, hoping against hope that somehow he'd wake up, recognize her, or at least hesitate. But his gun was up and he pulled the trigger again. Alice fired just an instant before him. Both bullets found their marks, but hers a fraction of a second earlier and it disrupted his aim.

Again, she didn't really feel any pain. Just a sting and then numbness spreading through her calf, as she took a step back and then dropped back onto one knee. This actually saved her life.

Her own bullet pierced Karim's left clavicle, but his gun dropped only for a moment. He had it back up in seconds and would have fired again, except with the step back Alice had hid from his view. She heard him take a laborious breath, but a small thing like shattered collarbone wouldn't stop him. Instead, she heard his footsteps closing in quickly.

She didn't have the strength to get up. She knew she didn't. And yet—and yet… she couldn't just give up. She inhaled sharply, clenched her teeth and got to her feet. Using the Jumper walls for support, she waddled inside, tottered through the cargo hold into the cockpit, and literally fell into the pilot seat. She dropped the Beretta on the floor and put her hand flat on the panel. Her right arm was useless, so it was lucky that the small spacecraft was operated mostly through the neural interface. She heard—and felt—the back door close as the control console came to life under her touch. For a moment, she just sat in one position, suddenly overcome with fatigue. Both her arm and her leg were pulsating curiously now, though it was still not exactly pain. She knew that as soon as the adrenaline flushed from her system, both wounds would be killing her—figuratively and literally. But for now, she just felt overwhelming exhaustion.

Through the front window, she saw Karim running in the opposite direction now—towards the other Jumper. For all intents and purposes he should be on the floor, bleeding out. Instead, he was running to protect his master…

The utter subjugation of people to this Wraith was abhorrent. Bad enough that an intelligent creature's mind could be so manipulated—so twisted and bent to his will… but seeing it happen to her people, people she cared about—it was worse still. Grimacing, Alice moved her hand to the throttle and the little ship jumped up at her command. There was nothing she could do about it now. She had tried, and failed. She had to save herself and bring back reinforcements.

Blinking the tears away, she leaned heavily on the console as the Jumper rose through the half-retracted ceiling up into the sky. For the first time, she got a good look at the castle. From outside, it seemed even larger than it really was. It was located on a hill and ringed with a dense forest that stretched to the horizon in each direction. Alice brought up the Heads-Up Display to locate the Stargate, but it was nowhere near. Could it be? But no, a wider scan quickly revealed that there was one—only not on the planet as much as above it. An orbital Gate. Made sense—unless someone came in on a ship, the only way they could get to the castle was in a Jumper—or a Wraith Dart. I wonder who built this place…

A blinking red dot on the HUD caught her attention. Her scan showed the other Jumper—the one who had taken off to do some patrolling earlier—quite a way from the castle. But there was another signal, and just on her tail, too. There was no other option—it had to be the ship that Jareth had hid in. Jake, she thought instantly. They must have woken him up and he was flying the craft now. For no other reason than to make sure—and maybe to see if he was really okay—Alice made a tight loop and hovered in one place, now facing the other Jumper. It was close enough that she could see into it through the window.

There was Jareth, sitting in the pilot's seat. And next to him was Karim. Jake was nowhere to be seen.

Who is flying it? She thought frantically. Karim didn't have the gene—Beckett's therapy didn't take in him—and the Wraith could not possibly operate Ancient technology… could he?

And then, suddenly, all the puzzles fell into their proper places. The way Jareth looked—so bizarre, and yet somehow familiar. Most of him, at least outwardly, was still Wraith—the white hair, the feeding organ, the voice—but part of him looked different, some human, some alien… his triangular skull, for example, made her think of the Asgard, or rather the Vanir. And he was interested in genetics, did experiments on hundreds of subjects of different species. Was it really impossible that he had developed his own gene therapy? One that did work on a Wraith?

But there was more. The people that had been missing from different corners of the galaxy—like those from M4S-761, Lanthal had said there were people unaccounted for… and, she realized, Felix's people, too. He had said they had been abducted. And who better to make genetic experiments on than people who can naturally assimilate other species' genomes?

And that was why he was so glad to "get" Alice and Lorne. Because they had the ATA gene. Jake was just a cherry on top. By then, he had already had what he needed.

Now, Jareth both possessed the ability to subjugate any human being to his will and could operate Ancient technology, the one thing that had been their advantage in the fight against the Wraith. He could not be allowed to continue. He could not be allowed to escape. He had to be eliminated, and immediately. This was more important than anything else.

So why exactly was she hesitating to fire a drone into his Jumper just now?