"I don't know, T -- this makes no sense. This doesn't look like surveillance equipment. It looks like household stuff. And this looks like a shaver. Not going to try it out, though," Mitchell said, dropping the Ancient-shaver-wannabe on the table again.

"No, no, it makes perfect sense," Jackson's voice suddenly came from the other end of the room, sounding strained. "It's household stuff. Everyday things. They were packing. The Ancients who worked here escaped the plague through that mirror device, and they couldn't take it all with them. They just ran, and left most of it behind."

"Did not the plague strike the Ancients millions of years ago?" Teal'c asked.

Teal'c was walking towards Jackson, and Mitchell followed him. Carter was already there, but she seemed to be going through their medical supplies instead of fully concentrating on whatever Jackson had to say.

"It did, and according to everything that's in here, this place is that old," Jackson explained, waving the stone tablet Carter had recognized as a hand-held computer. "They call it the Dodecagon. They closed the doors and left. Ran away. Someone has opened them after that. Or they came back and left again through some other means."

"And ignored all this stuff they had left behind? Probably not. I'd guess it was someone else. Some other Ancients, maybe," Mitchell suggested.

"I don't know. Really don't know. The last writing in this is from the time of the plague. So the doors can be opened. Just maybe not by us. Not by me."

The way Jackson was talking, the way he looked, he seemed panicky beyond what Mitchell would have expected of someone so used to difficult situations. Of course, it was probably more than just the general situation.

"Jackson, maybe you'd better lie down," Mitchell told him. To his surprise, Jackson didn't even resist, just sighed and fell heavily down on his back.

Carter finally finished her inventory and was by Jackson's side again, checking his vitals.

"I'm going to take look at your hand, Daniel. I'll change the gauze, so I'll have to unwrap the old one. It probably won't feel nice, but try and stay still. Teal'c, if you could..." Carter nodded towards Jackson.

Teal'c returned the nod, and knelt by Jackson's head. "Perhaps you could tell us more of the contents of the Ancient diary, Daniel Jackson."

"Not much to tell yet... I've just read a very small part of it, Teal'c -- God -- Carter, ow --"

Mitchell felt perfectly useless again. Carter had more medical training than the rest of them, so the job of seeing to any injuries fell to her naturally. As for keeping company to Jackson while she was doing her job, Mitchell knew Teal'c could do it better than him. He could try to say something, of course, but it might not help a whole lot. So he stayed back, again.

Teal'c was trying to distract Jackson, keeping his thoughts on the tablet-computer. "Was there any indication of the author's person?"

"Someone called Feiara. That's all I know. Haven't encountered that name before..."

"And this Feiara was one of the group known as the Duodecim?"

Jackson wasn't looking at Teal'c. Instead he was trying to see his hand, or pull it away from Carter, maybe both. "Why won't you even let me see it? How bad is it, really? I still can't feel everything -- I'm not missing fingers, am I?"

"You are not," Teal'c replied. "However, it is badly burned. Your seeing it would not change anything."

"Yeah, you're right, it wouldn't, so why shouldn't I?"

Luckily, Carter had already finished, and let go of the now newly bound hand. She cast a worried glance at Mitchell, and gestured towards the other end of the room. They moved away from Jackson, leaving Teal'c to see to him.

"What's up with Jackson? Shock?" he asked in a low voice when they were as far as they could get in this limited space.

Carter nodded. "At least that, but I'm not sure what else, or what's causing it. My medical training's really basic, and I don't have much to work with in here. I'm concerned that the electric shock might've messed up the normal electrical activity of his heart, but that might not be the case, and we have no way of being sure. It might all just be because of shock from the burns, or then it might not be serious. If it's not, it'll probably settle in a few hours."

"And if it is?"

"Worst case scenario, he could go into v-fib and die. And even if all that's just me being overly cautious, he's still dangerously injured. The burns on his hand are bad, and there's a big risk it'll get gangrenous, so that when we get back, they won't -- they'll have to..." she shook her head. Wouldn't say that Jackson might loose that hand completely if they couldn't get help very soon. "Of course, shock is life-threatening on its own, if it gets any worse. If only we had some way out of here that wouldn't require Daniel to do all the work..."

"He doesn't need to do all the work, Carter. Just the thinking part. We'll get out. I'll see to that."

Mitchell knew this was probably not his brightest idea up to date, but he couldn't just stand and wait and do nothing. The doors were the way out that made most sense. Maybe Jackson had already figured out the order. If he hadn't, they'd just have to try one and see if it'd work. Maybe they'd get lucky.

At least Mitchell could try and be more prepared than Jackson had been. "Sam? Got any rubber gloves? Insulation tape? What'd you use for protection against one of those electric jolts?"

She stared at him with wide eyes. "With all due respect, sir -- I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Someone's got to do something to get us out of here, and that someone is going to be me."

Carter bit her lip, but nodded. "I've got rubber gloves. And tape. Our shoes should offer pretty good protection too..."

He was already untying his shoelaces. In a few minutes, he'd managed to wrap one gloved hand with tape, and picked up the shoe with it. He wrapped his jacket around it for extra insulation. Felt silly, but might work. Now, he just needed to know where to start.

"Jackson. I need your best guess for the right order of walls. I don't want to hear you don't know it. At least you've got a better guess than the rest of us. Just give me that. Which wall comes first?"

Just like Mitchell had expected, Jackson shook his head. "I really can't say. Don't try it. You'll just get hurt. I don't know." He was panting now, and his face looked grayish. All the more reasons to hurry up with this.

"Jackson, I'm giving you a direct order. Tell me which comes first. We know it's not the Ancient wall. Is it the Egyptian? Maybe I'll just try that, see if it's right..."

"No, no, no!" Jackson yelled. "It's not the Egyptian! Ancient is millions of years old, Egyptian's only thousands. It's got to be one of the texts I can't read. If you're going to do it anyway... Try the second one to the right from the Ancient. The one with circles and lines and squares."

"Thank you!" Mitchell shouted his reply, and sought the wall. He knew what the Ancient text looked like, and the second one to the right from it did match Jackson's description.

Carter was standing nearby, watching him, and Teal'c had helped Jackson up to a seated position so he could see as well.

Mitchell stretched out his supposedly well insulated hand and pushed the wall with his jacket-wrapped shoe.

No jolt, no flash, no electricity. Instead, the wall gave in slightly, and the text started to glow a faint, white light, just like the ceiling.

"You got it right, Jackson, right at the first try! What's next?"

This was mad. Completely mad. Totally insane. Daniel really, really had no idea of the complete chronological order of the walls. He hadn't had enough time, hadn't even translated all those texts he thought he might be able to understand. And now Mitchell was shouting at him to tell which wall came next, as if he couldn't get it that Daniel didn't know. Mitchell had said just a few hours ago that they were not in a hurry, but now, it really looked like he was desperate to get out.

"Try the Ancient. That's probably second oldest," he told Mitchell, though he knew that it could just as well be one of those texts in an unknown script. But no, Ancient was right. The wall lit up, same as the first one.

"You're doing good, Jackson. Next one?"

"Could be Egyptian. Can't know for sure. Mitchell, you don't have to do this -- if you'd just give me more time, I could be more certain..."

"No, I'm doing it right now. Just watch me," he said irritably, ran to the wall carved with hieroglyphs, and hit it. It lit up. Right again. And then he was anxiously shouting and asking what should be next, ready to touch whichever wall Daniel told him to, no matter how dangerous it was.

To make things worse, Daniel could well imagine that he was the main reason Mitchell was so rash. He had tried his best to keep them from worrying, had tried to appear calm and unconcerned, but it was becoming harder with every passing second. He had needed to see how Mitchell was doing, so he had asked Teal'c to help him up, but just sitting up had made him awfully woozy. His heart was thumping madly, as if struggling to burst right out of his chest.

Sam still wouldn't let him see his burned hand, and he was growing more and more certain that no matter what they said, it was damaged beyond repair, and all Doctor Lam could do if they ever got back would be to cut it off. And while one part of his mind thought that, the other just couldn't imagine such a thing happening, couldn't imagine living without his right hand. The very idea made him feel more sick.

"Come on, Jackson. What's next?"

Telling Mitchell that he didn't know or wasn't sure was no good, so Daniel just had to guess. "Brahmi script. It's left to the one that's in Polish."

Mitchell lifted the shoe to touch the wall. It didn't light up.

He leaped aside instantly, trying to dodge a bright yellow-orange bolt that lashed out from the wall, looking a lot like a staff blast. Of course, he wasn't fast enough. No human could've been. Still, as far as Daniel could see, it hit Mitchell in the shoulder, instead of landing point-blank on his chest, which would've happened without his fast reaction. He went down with a pained grunt.

Daniel slumped to the floor as well. There. Great. Fine. He had made that one mistake, and Mitchell had paid the price. God. He had been stupid It had clearly not been electricity this time, and what reason had they had to expect that it would be the same each time? Maybe the punishment was different for each wall. Not that it mattered what it was. Mitchell might die, all because of him. His best guess had not been good enough.

Teal'c had left his side now, rushing to help Mitchell, same as Sam. From where he was lying, Daniel couldn't see them. But he had to. He needed to know if he had killed Mitchell. He used his uninjured hand to push himself up, but even seated, he still couldn't see more than Mitchell's feet, with Teal'c's broad back blocking his view.

Gathering what strength he had left, Daniel fought to get up on his feet. He caught a glimpse of Mitchell's upper body, stripped of clothes, covered in blood, and Teal'c's hands pressed on the wound. But his vision was failing fast, taken over by a blaze of bright colors. The dizziness was so overwhelming that he couldn't tell whether he was still standing or falling, or if he had already hit the floor.

Mitchell wasn't dead. Daniel could hear him shouting in a hoarse voice, "Jackson -- Daniel -- no! Looks worse than it is. Just stay there!"

And then everything turned black.