Chapter Sixteen - Leaving Kansas
When McKay came to he found himself lying on the cold, metal floor of a windowless corridor, its gray, featureless walls dark and filled with shadows.
Slowly pushing himself into a sitting position, Rodney looked about him, finding himself alone. The corridor stretched out behind and in front of him, eventually disappearing into the black. Dim lighting set into the ceiling provided some illumination.
"Hello?" He stood, leaning on the wall for support. "Major Sheppard? Teyla? Lieutenant Ford?"
The only reply was his own voice, reflected back to him.
"Okay. Alone in a dark corridor. Not scared at all." He swallowed hard, and looked to his left and right. The last thing he remembered was bending over Teyla, her face lined with premature age, her normally vibrant eyes cloudy, listening to the breath rattle in her chest. And then there had been the sound of a stunner from behind him, and something had exploded across his back, and he had fallen forward, unconscious.
And now he was alone.
"Major?"
He listened intently for several seconds, desperate for any response, his nerves wired tight. When a reply came from loud within his ear he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"McKay? Where the hell are you?"
Fumbling, he reached up to the radio strapped to the side of his face and flipped the on switch. "Major?"
"McKay! Are you alright?"
His shoulders sagged in relief. "Yes, yes I'm fine. What happened to you?"
"The usual. Knocked out by a Wraith, woke up in a new game. Teyla and Ford are with me."
"Is she alright?" he asked quickly, fearing the smell of blow back.
"I am fine, Doctor McKay." Her voice was strong, though a little unsteady. Understandable, he decided, shivering. "We all are."
"Good. Great."
" Is this one yours?"
He didn't have to ask what Sheppard meant. "I don't know. I'm in some sort of corridor." He frowned, taking a closer look at the walls. "I don't recognize this place."
"Neither do we. Look, McKay, you're going to have to come and find us. You've got your scanner?"
He patted a pocket of his jacket and felt something hard and rectangular. "Yes." Pulling the scanner out, he thought the device on and watched as the screen glowed, illuminating the dark space. Four small dots interrupted the neat plan of lines and levels, three of them clustered together, the fourth some distance away. "I see you. I'm about five minutes away."
"Great. We're trapped in a room and it seems to be locked. Ford's trying to…"
Across the radio came the muffled sound of Aiden cursing, and a thump.
"Scratch that. We're stuck."
McKay puffed out his chest a little, and sighed melodramatically. "Need me to rescue you?"
"Just get here, Superman."
The radio cut off with a crackle. Looking back down at the scanner, McKay traced his path towards the three dots, setting off through the corridor. The décor, now that he paid closer attention, seemed of Ancient origin, but damp with disuse, like the lower sections of Atlantis. There was power running through the walls, providing a detailed floor map to the scanner, but it did nothing to illuminate the small space anymore than the pitiful ceiling lights did.
He was starting to feel increasingly claustrophobic, sweat prickling at the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. Concentrating on the map, Rodney took a right at the end of the corridor, then a left through an open door. It was metal, and nearly featureless save for a pane of darkened glass in its center. Each step he took into a new area was slow and cautious, ready to propel him back the way he had come the moment any sign of trouble appeared.
The scanner's screen flickered. Frowning, McKay gave it an experimental tap with the side of his hand. It flickered again, then steadied, but the image seemed weaker than before.
There was something odd about the building he walked through. He studied the walls, the energy readings, the floor beneath his feet, to no avail. Something elusive evaded him, a niggling sensation at the back of his mind, the reminder that something was missing, something so natural it was usually overlooked, like breathing or blinking.
He reached a second door, and almost walked straight into it before he realized it wasn't going to open for him. Frowning, McKay waved a hand experimentally in front of the door and thought, deliberately, 'on'.
Nothing moved.
"Great. Even the doors are out to get me."
His voice echoed around the empty corridor, making him flinch. The silence that followed seemed oppressive and threatening. Stretching out his hand, McKay jumped a foot back and released an alarmed squeal when the door opened without his fingers reaching the release panel.
Cautiously he poked his head around the open doorway, then stepped through when it didn't close on him.
The scanner flickered again. He whacked it harder with the side of his hand in frustration, wincing at the resulting pain.
"Dammit!"
His voice squeaked nervously.
The three dots were closer to him now. Two corridors and another door, this one open. There was no change in the décor, and when McKay finally stumbled into the reclamation plant the sudden change in location took his breath away.
The room was four stories high, the space dominated by three huge tanks which sat in the middle of the floor and towered over the scientist. A thick network of pipes connected them, and were monitored by a long control console which lay at their head. It was dark and lifeless, the pipes and tanks behind it motionless.
"McKay? Where the hell are you?"
He scowled, and hit the talk button. "I'm right on top of you, Major. Keep your panties straight for a second."
The scanner showed that he should have been sharing space with his team mates, his dot over the three others. The screen flickered again, then abruptly died, the device sputtering into the dark. McKay cursed, but the scanner's failure had not come before he realized the truth.
"I'm in the room above you. It's some sort of desalination area, like the ones on Atlantis, but smaller." He frowned, crossing over to the console. "What can you see, Major?"
"Walls, ceiling, floor. Not much else."
"Helpful. Anything else?"
Aiden's voice carried clearly over the radio. "There's a really small hatch on one of the walls, like a door in a submarine, but it's locked. I tried getting it open but it won't budge. And there's a big grate in the center of the floor, but it's welded shut."
"Anything else?"
Teyla's voice. "There is a large pipe in the ceiling but there are no hand holds for us to climb up."
"And there's a camera," Sheppard added. "Not sure if it's working. Can you see us?"
McKay looked at the darkened unit. He knew there was an identical console in the bowels of Atlantis, he had spent many hours wrestling with its ancient systems with Zelenka, but looking at the one before him it seemed unfamiliar and alien. Cautiously he placed a hand on its surface, but nothing reacted to his touch.
There was a small monitor set into its surface several inches from his hand. Hesitantly he ran his hand across its screen and pulled back as it, and the console that held it, burst into life. The monitor flipped on, displaying a grainy picture of the room his team had described. Sheppard stood closest to the camera.
"I see you."
"Get us out of here, McKay."
"Impatient, are we?" he joked, hunkering down onto his knees to get at the underneath of the console. Taking a flat headed screwdriver from his pocket, McKay slid the metal under a gap and levered a panel away from the console base, revealing a chamber full of multi-colored crystals.
He stared at them for several long moments, aware of his chest tightening, his heart suddenly racing.
Two months ago one of the pumps on Atlantis had short circuited, and forced McKay to spend an entire afternoon trying to reroute the flow of water into a different part of the pipe network. His efforts had been aided by Zelenka and Dave Ashcroft, one of the brighter engineers and an amiable man invulnerable to McKay's acerbic nature. Together the three scientists had managed to successfully navigate around the broken system, and in less than a day had repaired and replaced the pump, restoring Atlantis' reclamation plant to its usual output.
Though terrible with remembering names and faces, McKay had a near photographic memory when it came to the layout of machines, and the console in the reclamation plant had been no different. Even now, nine weeks later, he could close his eyes and recall the color and size of each crystal, and its setting within the cabinet.
But he could no longer remember what any of those crystals did, or what he had done to repair them.
"McKay? What's happening?"
"Nothing," he snapped back, hoping the nerves he felt weren't heard in his voice. Slowly, his hand trembling slightly, McKay touched the nearest crystal; a large, five sided blue rock which pulsed warmly. The instant his fingertips touched it's surface pain lanced from the crystal into his palm and he yelped, tugging his injured hand out of the chamber and cradling it to his chest.
"What was that? You okay?"
"Yes, yes." He sucked on his crisped fingers, staring hard at the blue.
Think, McKay. You've done this before. Blue crystal power, power bad. Disable the energy input before getting electrocuted again.
He took a deep breath, studying the various glass pieces to no avail. There was nothing to help him to identify their purpose, nothing to remind him of the neat repair job he had accomplished only weeks earlier. Worse, he was not even able to remember the simplest of functions, struggling to wrap his mind around the concepts of energy flow, and negative charges, and currents.
His hand nudged a green one, small and slender. Biting his lip, McKay tentatively placed the edge of his littlest finger on its surface, then when he did not receive another shock, quickly wrapped his entire fist around the crystal and yanked it out of its slot.
The power to the console suddenly died, both its innards and its display fading into darkness. McKay released a soft, triumphant crow that was cut short as, a second later, the entire plant descended into the black. He sat for a moment, listening to his breath come in quick, panicked gasps.
"McKay? Something moved in here."
"Yeah." His voice sounded weak and reedy. "Slight technical hitch."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Pushing himself back onto his knees, McKay leant forward and carefully replaced the green crystal into its slot. Immediately the entire room lit up, as did the console and the display monitor, Sheppard's anxious face reappearing on the screen. A deep rumbling began to emanate from the tanks behind him, the pipes ratting and creaking.
Lurching to his feet, McKay leant over the tiny monitor, forgetting for a moment that the occupants of the chamber couldn't see him. "This is harder than I thought."
"Can you do it?"
"Yes," he snapped, automatically. "I can do it." A nervous tremor ran down his arm, one he was glad Sheppard was blind to.
The small room seemed to have no apparent light source. His teammates all held a flashlight each, sweeping them across the room. Ford had his fixed on the ceiling pipe.
"Major, doc? This thing is making some strange noises."
Quickly, McKay moved away from the monitor and started studying the other output from the console. "What kind of noises?"
"I can hear water, and something else."
He paused, listening intently to the radio. After a second he heard it - a distant splashing sound, and the grating noise of metal moving against metal.
He didn't need an understanding of the plant to know that the sound was bad, and neither did his teammates.
"McKay, whatever it is you're doing, it'd be great if you could speed it up a little."
"Right, right," he muttered, looking over the console. "No pressure."
His hands ran over another, larger display. Schematics appeared beneath his fingertips, a plan of the plant, its tanks, and the network of pipes and chambers beneath it. Ancient script in a tiny font scrolled beside various sections, and McKay squinted at it, bending low over the screen.
A nauseous feeling started rising in his stomach.
"McKay! There's water coming from the pipe!"
He scrubbed a hand across his face, suddenly feeling exhausted. "Of course there is."
"Anytime you feel like getting us out of here, Rodney. My feet are getting wet."
"You might have to roll your pant legs up." His voice was weak in disbelief. "There's a hitch."
He heard Sheppard curse over the radio, and Teyla's smooth: "What sort of hitch, Doctor McKay?"
"I can't read."
"You cannot read what?"
"Ancient." He coughed, his chest feeling tight. "I can't read Ancient."
"Now is not the time to be funny," Sheppard growled.
"I'm not trying to make you laugh!" McKay squeaked back, running one hand over the console. The display screen shifted under his touch, changing to show more letters, page upon page of script, as meaningless to him as Chinese.
More meaningless, he reflected, his mind threatening to go awol in protest. He actually recognized the Chinese symbols for exit, toilet, man and, after an unfortunate moment of cultural misunderstanding, woman. But not this. Not a word, not a single letter.
"Rodney?"
"I can't." He took a fold of forearm skin between his thumb and forefinger and pinched tightly. "That didn't work."
"What didn't?"
He looked back down to the random squiggle of Ancient lettering, and briefly toyed with the idea of clicking his heels.
"It doesn't make any sense, Major. The text, the plans…" He shuddered. "Any of it."
"All of it or…"
"All of it!" he snapped, yelling down the microphone. "It makes about as much sense as one of Carson's papers, alright? I don't understand how this works, I don't know what any of this does, I don't even know where you are!" He cut off, panting heavily.
On the screen, Sheppard leaned up and peered into the camera, as though he could see the scientist. His expression had sobered from the anger and confusion of before.
"It's the game, McKay. Remember? Just try to relax."
As if to deliberately confound him - not, McKay reflected, such an insane idea - at that moment the sound of water increased, from a soft rumbling to a full throated roar. He heard Ford give an alarmed cry, and something splashed. On the screen he saw Sheppard turn, and water flooded through the ceiling pipe, Aiden slipping from his precarious position pressed up against it and hitting the floor butt first. Murky liquid pooled around him, an inch deep and rising fast.
"Oh, great. Perfect. Lieutenant, you okay?"
"Just bruised, sir." Aiden pushed himself to his feet, using Teyla's offered hand as leverage.
Sheppard looked back towards the camera, lines of tension betraying his worry. "It's okay, we've got time. It doesn't matter if you can't read the text, just try to find the room."
"Right, right." He pushed himself away from the console, looking up at the tanks that towered above him. "The water must be coming from somewhere, right?"
Walking across to the trio, McKay felt tiny and insignificant under their height. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, and he shivered, touching the side of the nearest with his palm. It was room temperature, steady beneath him. Moving to the next, he again touched its surface, but the second felt different, cold and vibrating steadily. Looking up he could see a distant dial set in metal, half way up its height, but the numbers on it were unreadable, as alien to him as the schematics.
"I think I've found the tank the water's coming from."
"Great. But, ah, can you hurry it up?" The sound of splashing was louder. "It's getting a little damp in here."
He started to circle the tank cautiously, noticing the way numerous thin pipes led to its top from various points in the walls and ceiling. Following the tank walk around to the back, he found four heavy set tubes leading from its base and disappearing around the back of its neighbors. Again placing his hand against the metal, McKay checked until he found the one pipe that was vibrating, and started to follow it across the plant room floor. Twenty yards from the tank it plunged into the ground.
"Knock on the ceiling," he demanded, kneeling.
"What?"
"Now, Major."
There was a pause, and muffled words on the radio. Several seconds later three thuds rattled the floor a few spaces from his feet.
The sense of relief was immense, but fleeting. "I've found you."
"Good start." There was a pause. "Teyla, try the floor grid. Lieutenant, have another look at the door."
"I'll get you out," McKay promised quickly, standing up.
"I know you will McKay. Just working with what we have. Any chance of switching the water off?"
He ran back to the console, his hands skittering across the dials and crystals. Despite locating his team McKay found himself in no better position to understand the information the console gave to him. The schematics were nothing more meaningful than an elaborate doodle, and the readings it provided were useless. Briefly he considered trying the crystals again, but a quick glance into the dizzying array of colors and lights nearly had him revisiting lunch.
He looked back at the monitor. In the locked room, Teyla was on her hands and knees, spluttering as she struggled to pull up the grid despite the increasing volume of water. Sheppard crouched on the opposite side of her, craning his head back and tugging at the unseen grid. After several seconds he lost his grip and tumbled backwards into the water.
"Major!"
Coughing, Sheppard struggled to his feet and turned his face towards the camera. "I'm fine, McKay. Just keep working."
Turning, Rodney looked miserably back at the console. His hands had started shaking, his breath coming short and fast. Trying one control experimentally, he flinched as it caused the first tank to rattle and groan, and quickly pushed the panel back into place.
"It doesn't make any sense," he protested, wanting to scream at the unfairness. "I know this, Major. This should be child's play, it should be simple…"
"McKay!" Sheppard's voice sounded strained, revealing his fear. "Just concentrate! You keep telling us how you're a genius, well prove it!"
That was a little unfair, the tiny voice in McKay's head protested. He did know this, it was engineering one-oh-one, even Kavanagh would have had no problem in switching off the tank's output and opening up the room but his mind wasn't working, refusing to process the information his eyes and ears were telling it. The Ancient text blurred before his eyes, the walls of the immense room closing in on him, his claustrophobia increasing despite its size.
The water was already past Sheppard's waist. Teyla had abandoned her assault on the floor grid and was now trying to help Ford shift the immovable door. Sheppard was clinging onto the edge of the ceiling with one hand, trying to push himself towards it, constantly spitting out the water which streamed into his face.
McKay turned his gaze away, once again looking at the schematics of the plant. He closed his eyes, and tried to remember the work he had Zelenka had done to Atlantis, the decision Radek had taken to switch off the supply before venturing into its bowels with Ashcroft. An Ancient stop-cock, the Yorkshireman had declared, wrenching around a cross-shaped wheel with his large hands.
But there was no wheel, and McKay could not understand the plans well enough to even guess at its alternative. He slammed his fist against the screen, wincing when pain shot up his wrist.
"McKay! I heard that and unless that's you having a eureka moment then give it up! Think, this should be easy!"
It should be, the voice said, and McKay fought the desire to curl up on the floor and hide until everything went away. His hands were slick with sweat, his uniform clinging to his body.
And there was the niggling sensation that something was very, very wrong indeed…
But it was harder to hear the voice, buried as it was beneath the alarmed shouts of his teammates as they struggled against water that lapped at their shoulders. McKay was fighting to not give in to panic, struggling for clarity despite the thundering of his heart and the dry, fuzzy taste of bile in his mouth. He slapped at another control, then another, making the pipes rattle and the floor shudder, but the water continued to pour from the ceiling into the tiny room and suddenly all three of his friends were paddling, desperate to keep their heads above water. Waves lapped close to the camera, and the sounds of coughing and spluttering carried over the radio.
"What the hell are you doing, McKay?"
"I'm trying!" he protested, torn between the unfamiliar console and the struggles of his teammates.
"You're not going to be in time," Ford protested, pressed up between the ceiling and the wall.
"Doctor McKay, please…" Teyla's words were lost beneath the water, the Athosian suddenly lost under a wave. She reappeared a second later, her hair dark and wet, plastered to her head and shoulders, her face pale and eyes frightened.
Teyla never looked frightened, McKay thought. He tasted lunch again.
"McKay!" Sheppard was closest to the camera, the angle distorting his face. "I thought you could fix it!"
"I'm trying!" he repeated, his throat tight, his eyes hot. Dropping down to his knees he plunged his arm deep into the heart of the console, pulling out handfuls of crystals at random. Around him lights flickered, tanks shook and pipes wailed, but nothing stopped the continuing flow of water.
The amount of splashing and coughing coming from the radio was increasing in frequency, but the words were not.
"There's no more time."
Briefly McKay dipped his head, catching a glimpse of the floor beneath his feet. He dropped his hand and felt the metal under his fingers, willing it to open, desperate for the Ancient computer to hear him.
Nothing happened. He stood, Sheppard's words echoing in his head. The small monitor displayed a sea of rippling gray, broken by the occasional snatch of dark gray fabric or pale, ghostly skin.
He could hear his teammates struggling, someone breathing hard, someone gagging. Someone that might have been Sheppard, trying to form a word.
And then there was nothing except the continuous rumbling of the great tanks.
The screen flickered, fizzed with static, and then went dark, the camera finally dying.
McKay could still hear water.
Dropping to his knees, he closed his eyes tight against burning tears and hugged his arms across his chest. Still his mind sought answers, running over the crystals and colors and lights in his head, wanting a way out, wanting to achieve the impossible. He choked, the floor hard against his knees, knowing his teammates were only inches from him, buried by metal and several tons of water. His skin pricked, heat burning against the back of his neck.
Heat.
That was odd.
Wiping an unwilling rough hand across his eyes, McKay lifted his head and blinked in the sudden, blinding sunlight.