No matter what she tried, the walls remained stubbornly mute.
Dr. Lynch had tried everything she could think of; touching the walls—she had the ATA gene, which should've revealed any hidden writing, searching every corner of the room, not it had that many. She'd even called Grodin down with a scanner in case there was something hidden in the walls. But it had all been in vain. Apparently, the Ancients had hidden something immensely dangerous in this room without leaving even the slightest clue as to why exactly it was dangerous or what could be done about it. Plus, Grodin was still hanging around, bothering her. She was perfectly aware that he had a crush on her . . . but this was ridiculous.
"Did you check in the hole where they actually found it?" he was asking.
"Yes, I did." Dr. Lynch heaved a sigh—how stupid did he think she was? "Twice, in fact."
"I'll look again, if you don't mind." She didn't have a chance to tell him otherwise; he was already crouched on the ground, feeling around inside the crack.
"I already checked there," Dr. Lynch snapped. "It's empty, I promise you."
"Even this other little hole that branches off from the side?"
"What?" In a moment, she was on her knees next to him, trying to see into the darkness. "I never noticed that."
Grodin flashed a brief grin. "That's why I'm here."
"Excuse me." She pushed him aside firmly and reached in herself, almost immediately finding the cavity now that she knew of its existence. There was something inside, too—something round and smooth. She pulled it out. It was about the size and shape of a hockey puck, but white and cool to the touch.
"A miniature holographic projector," Grodin said immediately.
"Thanks." She concentrated on the object briefly, and the image of a dark-haired young woman sprang into existence in the palm of her hand. She shut it off again—all she'd wanted to know was whether it worked—and tucked it into her pocket. "We need to take this to Dr. Weir right away."
-----
Elizabeth allowed herself a moment to stare at the small white object that had just been dropped onto her desk, and then looked backup at her chief archaeologist. "Dr. Lynch, what the hell is this?"
"A projector," Grodin said immediately—what was he doing there, anyway? "Like the one we found when we first arrived, but smaller."
"We found it in the hole in the floor where the sword was found," Dr. Lynch continued. "I'm fairly certain it's relevant."
"That would make sense. Very well." Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "Let's see what the Ancients have to say for themselves."
Dr. Lynch pressed her fingers to the projector for a few seconds, and the dark-haired woman—not even a woman, she looked to be in her late teens—materialized again and began to speak. "When the Wraith first became known to us, the Ancients encountered great difficulty in finding a weapon to effectively combat them, due to their remarkable powers of healing. However, after many years of research, we were able to conceive, and to build, a device we called simply the Machine. It consisted of three essential components: the core Machine itself, a swordlike device meant to channel the intent of the Machine, and the person chosen to wield the sword." Elizabeth leaned closer, paying careful attention. "It was powered by the Ancients themselves; specifically, it was set up to take in all the hate, anger and fear we felt for the Wraith and channel it through the sword, giving its bearer immense potency in battle; it served not only as an actual sword, but as an extremely versatile weapon with the power to project immense amounts of destructive energy, even over distances. At first, it seemed to be a success; with the Machine behind us, we came closer than ever before to eradicating the Wraith entirely. However, there was a fundamental flaw in the design of the Machine which we could not have foreseen. It began to retain the negative emotions that were meant to simply flow through it, and eventually they built up to such an extent that the Machine developed an awareness and personality of its own, an awareness consisting entirely of hate and a desire for destruction. The Machine began to exert an influence over the Swordbearer, to the extent where it would actually take control of his body and force him into committing horrific acts of violence with the sword. By the time we realized what was happening, our Swordbearer had killed nearly a dozen people. He had formed such a strong mental bond with the Machine that, when he was permanently separated from the sword and from the Machine, the shock killed him."
"Oh, my God," Dr. Lynch said, very quietly.
"We were unable to shut down the Machine entirely," the hologram continued. "However, it is completely impotent without a Swordbearer. To minimize the chances of another person coming under its control, we moved the core Machine to another planet which we knew to be uninhabited wasteland and concealed the sword here in the hopes of rendering it wholly inaccessible. However, our technology may have been compromised by interference from the Machine; if you are watching this recording, the sword no doubt has been found despite our precautions. Know only this: under no circumstances must anyone be permitted to wield it. If a new Swordbearer comes into being, and the sword is reunited with the core Machine, only catastrophe can result." The girl vanished.
Ford, who had come in partway through the recording, grimaced. "Bit late to warn us about that, isn't it?"
"Maybe not, Lieutenant," Elizabeth snapped, and then betrayed her words by letting out a soft groan of despair. "But they still won't tell us the address of the planet where they put the Machine."
"You want to find the Machine," Dr. Lynch repeated dubiously. "I'm thinking something about fire and throwing gasoline here."
"Not at this point," Ford said grimly. "I'd be willing to bet that, whatever the Machine is, that'd be where Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay are as well."
"Precisely." Elizabeth nodded agreement. "Grodin, what do you think?"
"It's possible that the projector has information stored on it other than the projection itself. I'll get it analyzed." He grabbed the projector and left.
"But what can we do at this point?" Ford asked. His shoulder slumped a little. "Even if we find Major Sheppard, we can't let him keep the sword because it's making him kill people, and we can't take it away because that'd kill him. We're stuck."
"Maybe not," Elizabeth repeated. "Major Sheppard has only had the sword in his possession for two days. I highly doubt that's been long enough for him to form a permanent link with the sword."
Dr. Lynch shook her head. "But it might be."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow . . . ten chapters. Go me. Which means it's time to reiterate my disclaimer: I own Dr. Lynch, the sword, and this plotline. That's all. swears violently
I'm really, really sorry about the delay, and even sorrier that I'm finally posting a chapter that doesn't actually have John or Rodney in it at all. This has been a really stressful week for me as far as schoolwork, and it was nice to get all the happy feedback people have sent reminding me what's really important in life. So I've survived this week somehow, and I can straighten my priorities out now and get back to writing fanfic. Yay.