There had been no word from the sub. Weir's fists were bunched, but she fought to keep herself in check. She wanted nothing more than to tear herself bald and scream at the top of her lungs. Instead, she walked with arms folded before her, with sharp grey eyes watching every movement around her.

"Dr. Weir! We're reading an unusual power surge. I can't pin down the exact location, but it isn't coming from any of our primary systems." Randall Hiassen cursed under his breath and jabbed at the console with more force than was advisable.

"What kind of power surge?" The slight woman leaned over the technician with the authority of a person three times her size.

"I don't know, the readings are off the scale, but at the moment this seems to be the only sensor picking it up." He learned over to Johnson. "You getting this?"

"Nothing. All normal here."

"Are you sure this isn't just a technical glitch?" Weir asked.

Hiassen shook his head. "No ma'am, I ran a check on this thing myself yesterday. As far as we know it should work like a charm."

A finely arched eyebrow raised. "As far as we know?"

"Well, with all due respect, something's going on that your little drills haven't prepared us for."

"That's an everyday occurrence." Weir walked to the transmission station. "Still no word from the sub?"

"No ma'am, there's. . .hang on. . .Johnson, you've got to be getting this now. . ."

"Yeah yeah, huge power source heading right for us, I said right for us, marking it at. . ." he threw his arm across his eyes as the room went blinding white.

Weir fell back against the console, her face turned away, her eyes screwed tightly shut. She could feel the heat of the light on her body, like standing beside a flame, and knew when it had disappeared. The station seemed much darker when she opened her eyes, glanced around, and started checking the diagnostic systems. "What the hell?"

Hiassen was running all sorts of checks that she could neither follow nor understand. "I don't know, but everything looks fine. . ." his head snapped up as someone yelled out from below. Curious personnel leaned over the railing, then with a delayed reaction, because they hadn't actually expected to see anything, they created a mass exodus, stomping quickly and heavily down the stairs. Weir managed to peer over the edge, to see both Teyla and Lt. Ford laying motionless at the base of the Stargate.

She wanted to throw herself over the rail, but instead settled for shoving people aside as she ran to them. "Back off! Everyone back away," she keyed her radio, "medical, I need people here right now!" The bodies looked to be unharmed, but past experience had demonstrated that looks were not only deceiving, but were a downright lie. She pressed her fingers to Ford's neck, then to Teyla's. "Breathing, thank god. . ." she looked up as a nurse who had been passing nearby quickly bent over the two. "Dr. Beckett's on his way," she said to Weir, "I heard the call, what happened?"

Dr. Weir shook her head. "I wish I could tell you! They were supposed to be on a submarine. There was some kind of energy surge, and a blinding flash. . .and they both appeared right here." The nurse passed a look of skepticism before listening to Ford's heart rate. Elizabeth felt a moment's irritation at the nurse's disbelief, then felt herself physically pushed out of the way as more medical staff showed, including Beckett. Hands were everywhere, the prone bodies vanishing in a medical mele. They were loosely hoisted onto waiting gurneys and rushed to the infirmary before she had time to process the recent event in her mind. She remained frozen to the spot, confused, watching the gurneys roll away. A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Dr. Weir, what the bloody hell happened here?" Dr. Carson Beckett had stayed behind, affording Elizabeth a moment before following his patients. His voice was soft and perplexed, an emotion that was mirrored on her face.

Elizabeth turned, glad for the subtle reassurance the doctor seemed to emanate without trying. "I don't really know. Are they going to be all right?"

"From what I saw I believe so, but I have to run some tests." He seemed wary of presenting his question, and paused, ". . .did I hear you say that they appeared in front of the Stargate in a flash of light?"

If there was disbelief in his voice, he hid it well. "During some kind of energy surge," Weir responded. "I have no idea what it was."

"We'd better check for radiation then, since we don't know the source of the energy."

Elizabeth pulled away from her shock as her professionalism roughly kicked in. "Yes. We should probably scan the entire station as well."

"And another thing," again there was a hesitation, ". . . didn't John and Rodney go on that sub as well?"

Weir's eyes widened. Such was her astonishment at having the two dumped on her in such a fashion that she hadn't even had time to wonder. . . "Oh my god."

"Aye." Beckett gave her a sympathetic look. "Look, I'll let ya know as soon as I've revived Lt. Ford and Teyla."

'Thank you, Doctor." Weir gave him a small smile, then turned to the room, all business. "I want a full scan of the waters around Atlantis, as far and deep as you can go, now!" She tapped her radio. "Makers! Any luck finding the submarine?"

Her radio crackled. "Haven't had much time, Ma'am."

"We've just had Lt. Ford and Teyla dumped on our doorstep. Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay are still out there."

"We're going as fast as we can, Dr. Weir."

"Understood." Of course they were. Hell, they probably just now got to the levels where the other sub was found. Patience, Elizabeth, she told herself. Have patience.

>

"Okay, look," John said sharply. Rodney was tired of walking, and the slowing stride made John fractious. He continued, "We need to find Ford and Teyla and get out of here. That means picking up the pace, got it?"

"Do I look like a tri-athlete? What makes you think they're even here? They're probably drinking saltwater slurpies by now."

"Not one for understating a possibility, are you, McKay?"

"I'm just saying. . ."

"Shut up." John stopped in his tracks and held his hand against Rodney's chest, forcing him to a sudden stop as well.

Not again. It took a moment for Rodney to realize this wasn't a reprimand. He glanced down at the hand on his chest, then at John. "What? What is it?"

There was a pause. "You hear that?"

". . .no."

"Shut up and listen, then!"

"I AM listening. . .what's. . ." John's fingers splayed then grabbed hold of Rodney's shirt in a death grip. With a violent shove he pushed the man behind a pillar and slammed him against the wall, covering his mouth. His chest pressed again Rodney's, forcing him still; the hazel eyes were but inches from his own.

"So help me god," Sheppard whispered slowly, "I'll blow your head off if you don't shut the fuck up!"

"Mmph."

Rodney didn't like what he was seeing. He was the one with the ultra-heightened instinct for survival, not Major Sheppard. John's eyes were wide and darted about the room, and Rodney did his best to follow the quick movements. The walls were flat and shiny, nothing remarkable about them, except he noticed they weren't as bright as the walls in the room they were just in. The ceiling was high, but gave a sense of heaviness. In fact, everything around them seemed heavy, as though the walls bending towards them, bearing the sorrowful weight of a thousand years of a thousand lost souls. It took every nerve he had not to sink to the floor.

But John held him upright, motionless, his mouth still covered, and Rodney could feel the man's panicked breathing against his own chest. He dared to slowly raise his hand, clasping John's wrist gently before pulling the hand away. Serious eyes told John he wouldn't breath a word. John nodded and backed away, and the two men cautiously edged towards the doorway which sat open across the room, both unwilling to disturb anything, whether by action, sound, or thought. It wasn't until they were through that the tension eased, and John slumped with a sigh so despairing that his shoulders sagged. Rodney found himself guiding his loose body to the floor. "Major?" The snapped question brought John back to himself.

"I'm okay."

"You want to tell me what the hell just happened?" Rodney looked scared. His light eyes probed John's darker ones.

The major slowly shook his head. It was several moments before he could say anything. "I don't know. It was just. . .oppressive. Like something was watching us, something very big and very bad." His eyes sought Rodney's. "You telling me you didn't feel it?"

"Not that specifically, no, just you crushing the life out of me." His eyes quickly scanned the major, who seemed for the moment perfectly content to sit right where he was. Which was. . .where?

Rodney stood and looked the room over. It was dark, very dark, even darker than the one they had just abandoned. A horseshoe shaped area of consoles in the center of the room caught his attention. Only a few lights blipped on the center panel, and curiosity drew Rodney in closer, pushing him to take a seat and examine the controls. "Can you stand yet?"

"Almost."

"Then get over here." He waited until he felt John's presence at his shoulder. "Work your magic, huh? This stuff's unresponsive for me."

"Really gotta get you trained in using that gene." John switched places with the scientist and popped his fingers, then stretched his hands across the center panel. More circuits bleeped to life.

"You think I like asking for help?" Rodney leaned in. "Any of this familiar?"

"No. You?"

"No, me neither. Look, try pressing a few things, see if we can get a screen, or some kind of visual, or a map or something."

"You want me to just start pressing random buttons?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I would do it, but this technology won't respond to me, now will it?"

"Yadda yadda yadda." John hesitated, then passed his hands over the controls. After a moment a screen slid into view. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Now we're getting somewhere." Rodney rubbed his palms together briskly. His enthusiasm ebbed into astonishment. "My god. It really is laid out just like Atlantis, all of it."

"Except for the fact that where the Stargate should be, it isn't."

"I wonder why."

"Personally I'm hoping it's somewhere else."

Rodney's head turned. "You think there's another gate somewhere on this station?"

John kept flipping through the screens. "It's an Ancient city. There'd better be one."