Stuck
Chapter 2
Rodney remained still, listening as the woman searched noisily in the dark for something. She was muttering to herself under her breath, and he caught the phrase, "typical male." He felt his own anger start to build, and quashed it down with enormous effort.
From across the room, he heard the 'click' of a switch, and then suddenly, she was shining a light into his eyes.
"Hey! Do you mind?" Rodney yelled, although he was relieved. Rodney didn't like small spaces, but he liked small, dark spaces even less.
"Oops! Sorry," she replied, although Rodney swore she giggled as she said it. She approached him, shining the light into the control panel. He reached in, twisting the wires back together to repair them. Around them, the lights flickered sporadically, then suddenly glowed into life.
Rodney breathed a sigh. The woman clicked off the flashlight, tapping it lightly against her leg. Rodney turned and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.
"I'm going to try the radio again," she announced. He only nodded, listening as she spoke into the comm. After five full minutes, she gave up, returning to his side.
"Shall we try the blue wire now, Dr. McKay?" she asked, looking at him with concern. Her manner was still relaxed, but Rodney sensed she was growing nervous. They had been stuck now for about twenty-five minutes. Suddenly, he realized something.
"Who are you?" he blurted out. The woman stared at him for a second, then burst into laughter.
"Oh, yes, I suppose introductions are necessary, seeing as we're going to be here awhile. I'm Sonya. Sonya Davidovich." She held out her hand, and he took it slowly, her hand warm and dry in his sweaty palm.
"I just got here a few weeks ago. I'm a nurse; I work with Dr. Beckett," she added. Rodney only nodded; so many new personnel were being added to Atlantis that he couldn't keep track of them all.
She waited patiently as he turned back to the control panel. This time, as he ignored her taunting smile, he reached in, and, half-expecting the transporter to blow up or something, he cut the blue wire. Nothing happened. He exchanged a glance with Sonya, her eyes shining with triumph.
"Here," she said, thrusting the I-pod at him.
"No, you hold it while I wire it together," he replied. A few minutes later, he had attached the wire to the connections. He crimped them together carefully, then turned the I-pod on. And almost dropped the device in surprise. From her headphones roared music. Or what could be loosely described as music.
"Rammstein," she informed him. The blare of heavy-metal guitars, mixed with the distinct sound of electronica, blasted across the transporter. Rodney grimaced as a male voice sang in German, the words strong and guttural.
He quickly turned the volume down, glancing at the woman. She certainly didn't look like the mosh-pit type, but then again, neither did Radek Zelenka. And Rodney had entered the lab to the sounds of pounding drums and the Czech scientist air-guitaring too many times to know a head-banger when he saw one. Or heard one, rather.
The volume readjusted, he started running the diagnostics program. The tiny screen on the I-pod had changed from English play lists to Ancient diagnostic text. While Rodney's gaze fixed on the screen, Sonya sat down, idly closing her eyes as she leaned against the wall.
Rodney ran through the text twice, searching for any clue as to what had caused the transporter to stop transporting. Everything appeared to be functioning. On this end, he thought. Something must be wrong throughout Atlantis, not just with the transporter. That would explain why they weren't getting a reply to their calls. Real fear settled into his heart; he was certain someone would have noticed that the transporter wasn't working by now. Or that he was missing. They should have been rescued by now.
Rodney felt panic take a tight hold, and he closed his eyes. Behind him, he felt Sonya stand up. She placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We've got a problem, don't we?" she asked gently.
Slowly, Rodney nodded. They had a big problem.
TBC