A/N: Wow, I'm overwhelmed by the response the first chapter got, so thanks to your begging and pleading, here's chapter 2. Evidently, all I have to do is whump John and I have you eating out of my hands. lol! Well, get ready for your next feast, kiddies! Just some warning- the first part is a little dark. This is what happens when you think of ways to make John talk while cooking dinner!

sub•ter•fuge(sub'tur-fyOOj), noun. A deceptive device or stratagem.

Chapter 2: Pros and Cons

Hallmark doesn't make a card that says your mom is choosing the man who gets drunk and beats her over her own son, but a stack of cardboard boxes in your bedroom filled with your personal belongings goes a long way in communicating that sentiment.

She was in his closet when he found her, pulling a few books and odds and ends off the top shelf and placing them carefully in a box with Jack Daniels printed on the side. The irony that she had gone to the liquor store around the corner for the packaging was not lost on him; the booze had ushered all the problems into her life, it might as well be the booze boxes that ushered her son out of it.

He walked around the already full Sutter Home box, the Absolute, even the hated Johnny Walker sitting next to two garbage bags bulging with his clothes, so that he was standing right behind her. "Mom?"

She didn't stop packing, didn't even look at him. "This isn't going to work, John. You can't stay here any more."

"But…" But what? He knew she was right, knew he hated being in the house, knew he was counting the days until he turned eighteen, graduated, and went off to college in the fall. Still, there were some practical items to consider. With just a part time job, there was no way he could afford someplace to live until August or the expenses of school when the time did come. "Where am I supposed to go? What about school? You said you would help me with tuition."

Finally she turned, regarded him with dry eyes, and reached a hand up to his cheek. "You're a smart kid. I know you'll think of something." And he would, he knew it, too. There were loans, and jobs, and maybe even the G.I. Bill. But the fact that he would be okay financially, really meant very little in the wake of the emotional slap in the face his mother had just delivered. He closed his eyes, savoring the burning sting of her gentle caress.

His eyes flew open at the slap Curly had just delivered to his face. He saw he was still in the same sparse room he had been in since they had interrogated him into oblivion. The room had no windows and just the one door, empty shelves lined the walls, and the strange iridescent glowing lamps the Corridon used provided the only illumination. It looked to have been a storeroom once. Whether it had been long since abandoned or recently emptied for its current use, he couldn't tell. He had no idea how long he had been out, and really didn't care, but was, in a way, thankful that the rude awakening had brought him out of his memories.

He shifted, tentatively testing his body, only to find that he really couldn't move. He was upright in a straight-backed chair, arms and legs tied securely to the wood supports of the seat. To the side, he could see the older man he had come to loathe sitting on the edge of a table holding his radio. The pleasant smile on his face sent a flutter through John's stomach.

"Major Sheppard, so nice to see you awake. I have someone who would like to speak with you." He keyed the earpiece and spoke into the devise. "Dr. McKay, I have Major Sheppard with me now, as you requested."

John clamped his lips shut. The man had obviously reached McKay while he was out and McKay had just as obviously refused to give the man what he wanted until he spoke with his teammate, and since they were going to have this conversation over the radio, the Genii had yet to find Rodney. John planned to keep it that way.

The interrogator placed the radio by his ear so that he could hear the scientist ask in a worried voice, "Major, are you all right?"

He hadn't realized how good it would sound to hear a friendly voice, how tempting it would be to respond, but he closed his eyes and remained silent. "Major Sheppard, are you there?" A note of panic was teasing at the edge of the scientist's worry.

"Major," the man holding the radio told him, "it would be in your best interest to answer him."

John glared at him as best he could through the bruising on his face, wished his hands were free so he could flip the man off, (even though he knew he wouldn't recognize the hand signal he figured he would get the intent), then turned silently away.

"I see." The older man held the radio so that both of them could hear. "Dr. McKay, it seems the Major is in no mood to talk right now."

"Listen, Telmun," McKay snapped back with genuine Rodney outrage that almost made John laugh, "I don't know what you are trying to pull, but I made it very clear, I'm not going anywhere until I speak with Major Sheppard."

Telmun, John thought, well the old guy has a name after all.

"You heard the Doctor, if you won't speak with him voluntarily, I will have to elicit this conversation through other means." John stared at the wall, refusing to speak. Evidently Telmun signaled his goon, because the man kicked him hard in the kneecap. His eyes actually watered from the shooting pain, but he managed to hold in everything except a small grunt.

"Major?" McKay called with concern at the muffled sound.

"My, we are being stubborn this morning," Telmun observed with amusement. "I guess I'll have to handle this myself." John couldn't stop his eyes widening in fear at that statement as the older man handed the big guy the radio. This man was an expert at what he did, John could tell; a real pro.

"Telmun, what's going on? Major?" The voice sounded so small and far away through the earpiece.

Telmun ignored McKay and walked in front of John. "You know, my father was a butcher and I used to work in his shop as a child. I used to bone the fowl for him."

"Telmun, let me talk to Major Sheppard." So very far away, but Telmun, he was right there.

"Some people think the best way to chop the meat is with a cleaver, but really that is only for those who don't possess the finesse for the truly delicate task of boning." He reached to his side and pulled a stiletto-like knife from the sheath. "For that, a thin blade works best."

John swallowed, following the man as best he could with his wide eyes as Telmun casually made his way around to come to stand behind John's left shoulder, the one closest to the radio with Rodney pleading, "Major, can you hear me?" from across that terrible distance.

"You see, the secret is to by pass the muscle," he confided softly into John's ear, but loud enough that McKay could hear it, as well. Yeah, he made sure Rodney could hear every word. He pressed his fingers along John's shoulder as if he were mapping out the sinews, searching for just the right spot. "You want the knife to do the least amount of damage to the flesh while cutting through those pesky little joints."

John's heart raced as the man's warm breath skimmed across his neck. He smelled of soap and morning tea; like he had just taken a shower, had breakfast then come to work to torture a man. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a normal day at the office.

Yep, a real pro.

A sheen of sweat exploded across his back at the thought and he suddenly found his lungs wouldn't expand. Breathe, John, breathe! He managed to take in one hitching breath at his brain's demand. From that seemingly infinite expanse, Rodney called out, "Telmun, l..look, lets talk about this. Maybe…maybe we can work something out. Major?"

Telmun ignored him, completely caught up in his probing. "Ah," he said with ultimate satisfaction, "there it is."

As the knife plunged into his shoulder, John thought he might have heard Rodney screaming, "Stop! For God's sakes, stop it!" but he was really having trouble hearing anything at all over his own scream cleaving its way out of his throat.


Now is not the time for tears, she told herself, and yet Lt. Ford's grim face wavered liquidly before her.

The screaming of both men had mercifully ended. The pleading from Dr. McKay for Telmun to stop whatever torture he had dreamed up for Major Sheppard had finally been answered with a few short ragged gasps from the Major and Telmun's inquiry of "Satisfied now, Doctor?"

"Tell me where to find you," Dr. McKay had instructed the man with a voice of utter defeat.

"I'll send my men to you."

"I'm in a church in the residential section of the city. It looks like there's a bakery down the street, maybe a clothing shop."

"Yes, I know the area well. Someone will be there shortly."

Teyla wondered at that. How would a Genii know the residential area so well?

"Telmun, don't touch him again. If he's not alive when I get there, you won't get anything from me." The quiver in Dr. McKay's voice made him sound more desperate than threatening and she wanted to cry all the more.

"Of course, Doctor. I'm sure Major Sheppard is looking forward to your reunion."

Teyla wiped angrily at her eyes and set her jaw. Lt. Ford gripped his P90 so tightly that even in the gray light of dawn she could see his hands shaking. He was breathing deeply and deliberately, struggling to control his own emotions. Telmun would pay, slowly, if she had any say in the matter, but he would definitely pay. She used that thought to channel the threatening tears into resolve and nodded at Aiden.

They had worked their way back to town through the cover of night and forest, then scouted silently into the eastern edge of the city until they reached the Magistrate's compound of buildings. They crouched beside a low block wall that enclosed a courtyard on Garris' private quarters. Lt. Ford peeked over the wall, then with hand signals indicated two armed guards patrolling the building.

'Genii?' she mouthed the question.

Aiden responded with a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders that she interpreted as 'I don't think so.'

She nodded in understanding. They could be friend or foe, they just couldn't tell, which meant they would need to use nonlethal force. The Lieutenant held up three fingers then counted them down to zero and they leapt over the wall. She took the one on the right, clacking the butt of her P90 into his head so that he dropped with little more than an "umph." Aiden had come up behind the other guard and was choking him into unconsciousness. With a final twitch, the guard went limp in his arms and he lowered him to the ground. She took the zip-tie the Lieutenant offered her and they quickly had both men restrained and dragged them into the shadows of a tree.

They approached the house then, listening for the tell tale signs of any other guards. From the kitchen that she knew lay to the right, she could smell bread baking and the sounds of cooks preparing for the days meals. The study that Garris used as a home office was down the hallway to the left. They had been there several times over the past few days during the trade negations. She tilted her head in that direction and Aiden indicated she should lead.

She moved stealthfully as she had been taught in her youth, trying her best to keep the new Earth gear that she had started wearing from creaking or rubbing against her body too loudly. The equipment was powerful and efficient, but bulkier than she had been used to during her formative training, and she had found it a challenge to adjust her movements to the gear.

Finally, they reached the door to the study and she could hear muffled voices within the room. She held up a fisted hand and Lt. Ford stopped and pressed himself against the wall. She listened for a few seconds, unable to make out the conversation but from the sounds of footsteps and voices and the movement of chairs, she figured there were three, possibly four people in the room. With her fingers she conveyed this to Aiden and he nodded as he gripped the weapon in his hand.

Just as he had done at the wall, she counted down their entrance and threw open the door. Garris stood suddenly from behind his desk, wearing night clothes and a look of shock. His wife wore a similar expression from her seat on the couch by the window.

What caught her attention most, however, were the two Genii pushing back chairs from the table, their cups of hot liquid tumbling from their hands. She and Ford attacked swiftly, disarming the men before they could reach for their pistols. Aiden had his victim pressed against the wall, the man's arm twisted painfully behind him.

She had knocked hers to the ground and knelt with a knee and her P90 in his back. With her free hand, she lifted his head by the hair. "Now, you will tell us what we want to know," she informed him with conviction born of unshed tears.

"I will tell you nothing," he sneered back.

She slammed his head sharply into the floor, disappointed that she was only rewarded with a sickening thud instead of screams like those she had endured from Major Sheppard.


They moved him roughly down the stairs so that Rodney had to struggle to maintain his footing on his blind trek. He had one arm wrapped protectively around his backpack. Sure, they had tried to take it from him, at the church, just before they put the blindfold over his eyes, but when he showed them his latest toy, the one he held tightly in his opposite hand, they had let him keep the pack.

They reached the bottom of the second flight of stairs, so that he figured they were in a basement. Okay, Rodney, you're in a basement in an unknown building in an unknown part of the city. Fat lot of good that information is going to do you. No, that wasn't entirely true. When they had led him out of the church, the sun was just rising. He had felt the warmth briefly on his face before they turned him away from the rays. The sun did actually rise in the east on this planet, or roughly so as it actually had a slight wobble on its axis of rotation. Still, crude as his sense of direction was, he knew had been led west and further into the residential portion of the town. They had walked about ten minutes, winding down alleys and through streets until he has pushed through a doorway and into a building.

He had listened then, for any sound that would indicate what sort of building it was. He had heard men, soldiers from the small snippets of conversation he caught coming from above him (evidently there was a second floor to the building) and off to his right, where there was also the smell of food cooking and plates clinking. Therefore, he had come to the conclusion that he was in a dwelling, a personal residence or maybe a boarding house. However, there were no carpets on the floor as he had seen in other private dwellings here on Corridon and there was a distinct reverberation suggesting empty space, meaning the house was either very sparsely furnished or very seldom used.

The men escorting him down a short hallway, opened a door, and pushed him inside. They released his arms and took a step back.

"Okay, now what?" he asked the room in general.

"Dr. McKay, I am so happy that you saw fit to join us."

"Telmun? Are you planning a game of pin the tail on the donkey or can I take off the blindfold?"

"Sorry, I am unfamiliar with that game, but by all means, Doctor, remove the cloth."

Rodney placed his pack down between his legs, then reached up and pulled the strip from his eyes. He blinked against even the faint light from the lamps and saw the distinguished form of Telmun leaning casually against the lone table in the room. Behind him, tied to a chair, slumped a bloody and battered Major Sheppard.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell have you done to him?" Rodney took a step towards the beaten man and his two escorts moved forward to restrain him. "Let me go, or I swear you will suffer the consequences," he held up the devise he clasped threateningly and the two men hesitated, their eyes darting nervously between Telmun and their prisoner.

Telmun furrowed his brow in curiosity. "Doctor, what exactly is that little contraptions you have there?"

"It's a bomb, and unless you want me to blow up half this building, I suggest you let me check on the Major." Without waiting for a response, he brushed past the older man and knelt before Sheppard. He watched as the man's chest rose and fell, letting out his own breath with that confirmation of life. "Major, can you hear me?" He touched the Major's leg and Sheppard flinched away as best he could while still being tied to the chair. He turned with angry eyes to the Genii. "Cut him loose, now."

Telmun seemed to be holding back a grin, but he flicked his hand and one of the men came forward and cut away the bindings. Major Sheppard slumped forward so that Rodney had to catch him and push him back with a hand on his chest. The heartbeat he felt was strong, if a little quick, and a little more panic left him. "John," he called quietly and the eyelids fluttered open.

"McKay?" he croaked, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Rodney smiled then, a smile of relief, even though the whole ordeal was far from over. "Good to see you too, Major. But to answer your question, I'm here to make sure no one lays a hand on you again."

"And just how do you plan to do that?"

Rodney held up the devise he clutched in his hand with a smirk and flicker of his eyebrows, "With this."

"That's a life signs detector, Rodney."

"More or less," he agreed. "Can you sit by yourself? I need to do something here."

John nodded his head and pulled himself up into a swaying but upright sitting position. Satisfied that the man wasn't going to tumble out of his chair, Rodney released his hold on his chest and went to work on the detector. He pushed several buttons then called Telmun over. "I want to show you something." He held up the devise so that the screen was displayed. "This is an Ancient's life signs detector. See these dots; these are all the people in this room and evidently several upstairs as well. Now, see this dot here, that is me, and this one, is Major Sheppard. If anything happens to either one of us, as in there are no longer any life signs to detect, or either one of us gets more than fifteen feet away from this detector, I have programmed it so that the small naquedah power source inside will overload and explode."

"But it is so small, it will only kill you if it explodes."

"Normally, yes, but not with this attached to it." He turned the detector around to reveal two gray blobs stuck to the back, a thin metal ellipse running between the two blobs and two wires running up and into the inner workings of the devise.

"What is that material?" Telmun had lost some of his confidence with the questions.

"Have you ever seen C-4?"

"Yes, and that is not it," Telmun told him with confidence.

"Of course its not," Rodney huffed, "such a small amount of C-4 would do very little damage. But C-5 on the other hand…"

Major Sheppard sputtered behind him and Rodney realized he was trying to laugh, "McKay, you are one crazy son of a bitch."

Rodney gave the Major a disapproving glare, "Stop laughing, Major, you might cause more damage to your self."

"C-5?" Telmun stated in disbelief. "I've never heard of such an explosive."

"The only reason you've seen C-4 is because we used it to blow up a few tree stumps back on your farms. Do you honestly think that we would use something that is ten times more powerful than C-4 to speed up menial labor? No, C-5 only gets pulled out on special occasions, like when you're being held hostage and are trying to even the odds."

"The fact remains, Dr. McKay, that if you detonate the bomb, you will also kill yourself and Major Sheppard."

"The fact remains that you plan to do that eventually, anyway. Now, you need me to do something for you. I honestly have no clue what it could be, but you want it so badly that you are willing to kidnap and torture another person just to get it. The way I figure it, if you're willing to do that just to get me, you should be willing to leave him alive to keep me. All I've done is given me and the Major a little added insurance so that you don't do anything more cold blooded and repulsive than you already have."

Telmun pulled at the bottom of his jacked and stood straighter. "Very well, Doctor, Major Sheppard can remain with you for the time being. I will be back shortly with the assignment I have for you."

"Not just yet. I need beds; one for me and one for the Major. And food and water, and medical supplies. I'm not doing anything until he's taken care of."

Rodney willed himself not to pale when Telmun clinched his fists by his sides, obviously trying to restrain his anger. He nodded to the guards and they exited the room. "You'll have everything you need, Doctor. I'll see you shortly." Then, he too left the room.

With an exhaled breath, Rodney ran his hand through his hair and sunk to his knees beside Sheppard. "Well, I thought that went well, didn't you?"

"C-5, Rodney? C-5? Just what the hell are you up to?"

"Major, I just conned a man that makes Josef Mengele look like the Easter Bunny into believing I can blow up his house with MRE standard issue chewing gum, a paperclip and some scrap wire. Do you think you can cut me a little slack?"


Aiden watched Teyla slam the man's head into the floor once again and although he knew he should probably stop her, he was having trouble motivating himself for the task. Hell, after hearing Major Sheppard's screams, he was having trouble not cheering her on.

Fortunately for the Genii, and unfortunately for his desire for revenge, Garris' wife, Alma, intervened. "Teyla, please, you must stop."

Teyla held the man's head by the hair, grinning with pleasure when she noticed a tooth lying on the floor, "Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because they have my daughter and if anything happens to these men, I fear they will kill her."

Teyla blinked in confusion, then released her hold on the soldier's hair, although she maintained her position pinning him to the floor.

"And this is why you have not sent guards to disband the Genii at the stargate?"

Garris stepped in then, "Yes, we received a message yesterday morning. Cowen has taken our daughter and will kill her if we interfere with the mission that is taking place. They have promised to release her as soon as it is complete."

"How did they take her?" Aiden asked, pushing the soldier he was retraining further into the wall when he tried to pull away. Not that he agreed with them sitting by while the Genii kidnapped and tortured his teammates, but at least he could begin to understand why they had let it happen.

"She studies antiquities, travels to different planets to do so. She has been studying an Ancient site on another planet for months now. We assume it was there that they kidnapped her."

Teyla pulled a zip-tie from her vest and secured the soldier's hands. "How would the Genii know where she was?"

Alma spoke again, "She travels to the Genii home world often, to visit family."

"You are Genii?" Teyla's voice was as surprised as Aiden felt.

"No, I am Corridon. When I married Garris, I gave up any claim as a Genii. But my father and a few other relatives still remain. Although I rarely have contact with them any more, Rowan is very close to her grandfather."

Aiden secured his own prisoner then sat him on the floor next to the one Teyla had subdued. "I don't get it. Why would they threaten to kill your daughter if she maintains friendships with the Genii?"

"My father was a high ranking military officer. He even served closely with Cowen's father when he was in charge. But when he died and Cowen took over, my father became disillusioned with the direction Cowen was taking Genii. He spoke out publicly against Cowen and in so doing made an enemy."

"Why did he stay if Cowen was such a threat?" Aiden asked.

"There are those that still support my father, consider him a great man. And above everything else, he is a patriot and would never abandon the Genii cause."

Aiden sorted through the information he had gathered from the conversation. "Okay, so Cowen decides he can take care of two birds with one stone. He kidnaps the granddaughter of a political enemy so that he can send this Telmun here to kidnap the Major and Dr. McKay without interference."

"Telmun?" Alma demanded. "You must be mistaken."

"No," Teyla assured her, "we heard him give his name very clearly."

"But Telmun is my father."


"Sheppard, I need you to wake up now."

The voice was accompanied by a light shake of his shoulder, but the bed was so comfortable that the thought of getting up was too much to bear. He weakly tried to slap the hand away and burrowed deeper into the pillow.

"John, come on, wake up."

Where was he anyway? He should be able to remember, but everything was such a blur and his head was pounding. He had a brief image of lots of people, nighttime, flickering lights. Was it the TKE party? What the hell had they put in that punch anyway? He had learned his lesson; never drink anything that is served by dipping your own milkjug into a garbage can full of green liquid. But, damn, it was tasty; like drinking Koolaid mixed with jet fuel, with just as much kick, and the girls loved it.

The hand was back on his shoulder and another thought came to mind. Oh, God, who had he brought home with him? He had been talking to a red head for a while, then there was the brunette with the coconut-shell bikini top and hula skirt. Who knew they made those things in a D cup? Oh, please don't let it be the blond with all the braids. His roommate had a thing for her and it would be so bad if she walked out into the kitchen and he was sitting there.

"Sheppard!"

He reached up and patted the hand, "Okay, sweetheart," he mumbled, "go hop in the shower. I'll be there in a minute."

"As tempting as that sounds, Major, I have a strict policy about showering with anyone that is exhibiting more facial hair than I am."

Huh! He rolled over, pain causing his body to protest the simple act and blurrily looked up into a face, a male face. Shit, it was New Orleans 1992 all over again.

"Major?"

The face slowly came into focus, "McKay?"

"The one and only, and if you insist on calling me sweetheart again, it's going to at least cost you dinner and a movie first."

He placed his arm over his face in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing in his skull. "Have you ever gone to Mardi Gras, Rodney?"

"No. Why?"

"Thank God for small miracles."

"Major, do you know where you are?"

Oh, yes, now it was all coming back to him. He had been beaten thoroughly by the Genii in an attempt to keep them from finding McKay, only to have the man waltz in to his prison claiming to have MacGyvered a bomb out of scrap metal and an MRE. Beyond all logical thought, his captors had bought it, even provided a nice comfy cot, the first food and water he had seen all night, and the limited first aid supplies that McKay had combined with his field kit to bandage him up as best he could. There's only so much a man can do with gauze, bandaids, and those little antiseptic wipes that came in the first aid kits everyone was issued on Atlantis. Sure, they're great if you get a splinter, but don't work worth shit if you're pissing pink because you've been punched in the kidneys one too many times.

And now it was time for McKay's version of twenty questions that came every hour on the hour because of the concussion he had obviously suffered at the hands of the Three Stooges.

"Major?"

Well, might as well get it over with so that he could go back to sleep for another hour.

"That's Major John Sheppard, U.S. Air Force, to you, one Rodney McKay, astrophysicist and general pain in my ass. I honestly have no idea what day it is, but I'm pretty sure you don't either, so you can't really hold that against me. As to our location, I believe we are somewhere on the Corridon home planet, locked in a basement with little more than a couple of beds, a table, a chair, and…what the hell is that?"

"That," Rodney told him with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, "is why we are here in the first place."

It was a seven foot tall, three foot wide, and three foot deep column and appeared to be made of glass. Ancient glyph symbols, like those on the stargate, were etched on all six sides, even the bottom as he could see through the walls. In addition, etched handprints appeared on three sides. He stood with McKay's help and hobbled his way over to the thing, and without thought started to reach out a hand to one of the hand prints. Rodney slapped it away before he could touch it.

"You see them, too, don't you?" he asked him with a grin.

"What, the handprints? Sure. Why?"

"They can't."

"Who are 'they'?"

"The Genii that have been researching this thing. According to their notes, they can see the glyphs, but there is no mention of the handprints." Rodney was shuffling through papers, trying to find one in particular.

John shook his head. Trying to keep up with McKay on a normal day was hard enough, but with his head and body both feeling like a jello parfait, it was almost impossible. "Whoa, backup a second. Where did this thing come from?"

Rodney continued his searching, "Oh, Telman brought it in a couple of hours ago," he told him absently. "Evidently he thinks it holds the key to defeating the Wraith and overthrowing the current powerbase of the Genii. I get the feeling he doesn't really like Cowen and his lot."

"Great, nothing like getting caught in the middle of a political coup." Then something else McKay had just said sunk in, "Wait a minute. You let me sleep for a couple of hours without waking me?"

Rodney held up a paper in success, "Uh, yes. It's probably been two maybe three hours since I last woke you."

"What happened to massive head trauma, periodic waking to ensure that I haven't slipped into a coma and all that other crap you were spewing earlier?"

"You're fine." He dismissed as he held out the paper, pointing at drawings of the box. "You see here. The sketches…"

"I'm fine? Just like that, I'm fine?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Look, you're standing, we're conversing, you're fine. I admit you were a little disoriented when I woke you this time, thinking I was one of your drunken one night stands, but you didn't try to sneak out the door with your clothes wadded in your arms so I figure it must have been at least a pleasant memory. Yes, you're bloody and bruised and I have spent a good deal of time dreaming up very unpleasant things to do to Telmun involving taizer-guns and water balloons, but there is very little extra damage they could have done to your mental capacities that you didn't take care of during your days of beer bongs and naked fratboy keggers. So, you're fine."

"Taizer-guns and water balloons?" John grinned at the possibilities.

"I'll show you the preliminary engineering designs I did later, but right now I need to show you this."

'This' was a sketch of the box, showing all the symbols except the handprints. "So why can't they see the handprints?"

"I'm assuming it's because whoever worked on this didn't possess the ATA gene."

"So, it's some form of security to keep nonAncients from using the device."

"Pretty much, but I think it's a little more than that. Come stand over here and watch." John moved and Rodney directed him to place one hand on his side of box while he did the same on another. The box glowed blue for a second, then a small whoosh emitted from the opposite side, collapsed back in on itself and settled into the shimmering silver-blue of an event horizon.

John's mouth fell open. "It's a stargate."

"It's a portable stargate," Rodney confirmed with that same mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "and it's a trap."

John took an unconscious step back at the statement and the puddle disappeared. "What sort of trap?"

"The box activates when two sides are touched simultaneously by two different individual. Just like the DHD, it doesn't require the ATA gene to operate it. According to the notes I was given, the Genii activated the gate using all sorts of combinations, and I agree with their assumption that the different combinations dial different preprogrammed addresses. Problem was, when they finally sent someone through, they never came back. I don't know if there just wasn't a way to get back, or they couldn't get the address right, or there were a thousand poisonous snakes waiting on the other side. But I believe that one of the addresses in this box leads to something very important to the Ancients and they didn't want just anyone having access to it."

John stared at the box in awe. It had gone back to looking like solid glass. "It's the Ancient's version of the roach motel; Genii go in but they don't come out."

"Yes, well, disgusting yet appropriate bug analogy aside; I think you get my point."

"So what do you think they are protecting?"

Rodney went back to the stack of papers. "They found the box in a temple of some sort with Ancient texts and references covering the walls. Evidently there are quite a few mentions of something called the 'well of thought' although I wish I could see the original text because I think something was lost in the translation. Ancient conjugations can be very tricky if you don't pay attention, and I have a feeling the interpreter did a sloppy job."

"Okay, so now that we know what it does and to some extent how it does it, what now?"

"I think we could go to this 'well of thought' if we activate the gate properly."

"And you know how to do that?"

"The hand prints, Major, those are the finally clues. The gate activates with two hands and fools anyone who shouldn't have access to the Ancient's secrets into thinking that is all that is needed. But only someone with the Ancient's genes would be able to see that you really need three hands to activate it, three hands from three different individuals."

"Great, Rodney, but there's only the two of us here. Not that I liked my previous company, but we're one ATA gene short."

"Yes, I know that, Major, which is why I'm going to take my previous statement back. I don't think you're fine. In fact, I think you really need to see a doctor. And as the overprotective bomb-wielding genius that I am, the only one I am going to trust to treat you is our own personal physician from Atlantis."

(TBC- again!)