"I have it!" Radek ran into the commissary, his hair wild from frantically running his hands through it, his glasses askew on top of his head. His eyes were bleary from overuse. "I think I've figured it out."

Sheppard looked up from where he had silently been pushing his food around on his tray. Ronon was sitting beside him, no food, arms folded on the table. He gave Radek a stern look, not so much because of the interruption, but because he had been impatient for news.

"You have to come and see. I figured out how to test the theory, and," he stood, waving for them to follow, "bring your tray. You have to come, at once."

"Not hungry, been trying to tell him," Sheppard muttered, and followed quickly.

The orb was sitting on the stand, with oddly bent wires surrounding it like a television receiver gone wild. Sheppard halted at the sight. "I'm pretty sure it didn't look like that when I first saw it."

"No, no of course not, but was only way I could get the orb to activate. What Rodney did, I do not know, but here. Watch." He set an apple on the table, just in front, and tapped a few buttons on the console.

The apple vanished.

Ronon and Sheppard both hurried to the spot where the fruit had been. "It's gone," Ronon said deeply.

"Yes," Radek agreed.

Ronon's brows raised. He was used to McKay's sharp retorts. He hadn't expected the scientist to agree with him.

"Meaning they were transported after all," Sheppard said.

"No, well, not exactly." Radek sat in a nearby chair and swiveled to a screen. "Look here." He pointed to the energy pattern, highlighting a flat line. "This is the reading measured inside the orb when it was first tested, after it was discovered." He pointed to a plateau. "This is after Rodney and Carson were reported missing." He pointed to another plateau, much smaller. "And this is the latest reading." He nodded at the look of comprehension on Sheppard's face.

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Carson blinked. He could breathe, the room was lighter, and his companions were collapsed beside him. He sucked in the wonderful stale air, glad it was present, no matter how old it was. He also had an inkling it would be a very long time before he went swimming again. His companions were breathing easily, and their pulses showed no signs of undue stress. He sighed, and his breath caught as a small, red object rolled into the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What does it mean?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard was staring at the orb in disbelief. "I think it means they're inside that thing."

And again, Radek nodded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson was studying the apple. It looked real enough. It certainly smelled delicious. But his trust level had plummeted. He threw it into the corner, watching it smack against the wall satisfyingly, leaving white bits and juice scattered.

"What the . . ." Abrams jerked up, then moaned and lay back down.

"Easy. Your body's been through a shock." He placed a hand on the large man's chest, glancing over to Lenore. She was sitting up, slowly. "By the way, thank you for getting us out of there. How did you know?"

"I saw one of those damn ripples," Abrams muttered. "Thought it best to go through before we suffocated."

"That was . . . oddly unselfish of you."

"Never leave a man behind. No matter how much you may want to."

Carson sighed and looked around. Little had changed.

Of course.

He sat heavily.

Lenore rubbed at her eyes. She looked around, and smiled, relief finding her face. "Safe room."

"What?" Carson shook his head as he looked. "How can you tell?"

She was nodding, and suddenly looked years younger. "I can tell. This is where we started."

There were no markings, nothing to distinguish this room from the others, except for the shift in light. "The safe room wasn't this dark."

"The rooms all darken. They were all much lighter when I came here."

He wanted to ask. But he knew he'd get no answer.

But to his surprise, she continued to talk. "Thoughts get darker. The rooms mirror the thoughts, the despair. That's why we should've stayed here. It would've stayed light for us."

"And the others would still be alive." Rodney would still be alive.

She shrugged. "Don't know about that. Maybe."

Carson shuffled over to her. "But this is a safe room. That means those . . . things . . . don't happen here. Right?"

"Not yet." Her eyes were unreal, and settled on his.

"Not – not yet?" Carson groaned. "Christ, but I'm sick of this place!" He looked to the ceiling. "Hey! HEY! Enough of this bullshit, whoever you are! You hear me? HEY!"

"They hear you," Lenore said.

"And just how the hell do you know that, love?"

"Because I hear you. Because I am you."

Baffled didn't begin to describe the look on his face. "Excuse me?"

"I said, I am you."

He looked affronted. "You most certainly are not!"

"I am." She turned as the wall shimmered.

"God, that just doesn't get any easier!" Rodney complained.

Carson spun and nearly fell to the floor. "Rodney!"

Rodney waved weakly, acting as though he just walked in through the front door. "Yeah. Hi. Glad to see you're okay." He was wincing and rubbing his arm. "'Bout time I found you, thought I was going to be lost in this damn place forever."

Carson managed to move from his shock, and guided his friend down as he fell to the floor. "How? What happened?"

"Walls." He was smiling, damn him. Smiling.

"What's so funny?"

"What she said. About her being you."

"You heard that?"

"Right when I walked in."

"Well . . . it isn't funny! It's ludicrous!"

"Oh come on!" He nodded toward Lenore. "Don't you find this just the least bit amusing?"

His reappearance, as though nothing had happened, unnerved Carson. He felt as though he was losing his grip. "What – no! She's – she's bonkers, I am not a bloody girl!"

"Neither is she, really, I bet she's around fifty or so."

Carson bristled. "I mean, I am not a female!" His shock eased into realization as he eyed his friend up and down.

"I could take issue with that," Abrams said from the corner. He was as startled at Rodney's reappearance as Carson, but refused to show it.

Lenore just took it in stride. "Told you," she said.

Carson chose to ignore them, and grabbed Rodney's arms. "You're really here, you're alive!"

"Seem to be." He winced again, and Carson released him, then pulled the short sleeve up over Rodney's shoulder, reveling a series of cuts.

"How?"

"I told you. The walls." He twirled his finger at the wall. "You know, that shimmery thing. Managed to get through before becoming a voo-doo doll."

"But . . .god, you're . . ." Carson could say no more. He pulled Rodney into a hug, startling the other man. Everything was on speed. He was on speed. Too much, just too much.

"Aw . . .ain't that sweet," Abrams drawled from the corner.

And it grated on him. He chose to forget that Abrams had lost his men. Carson no longer cared. He was reaching his emotional limit. To be truthful, he had passed his limit a long time back, but was now at the point of refusing to acknowledge there was ever a point when he wasn't angry. It was too much, being here, seeing people die, seeing a friend somehow survive what should have been certain death; a sign of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could survive this after all. "Go to Hades!" he snapped.

"Draw me a map, Mr. Genocide."

Snapping point imminent. Carson reddened with rage. "You . . .you did not just say that."

"What I said was the truth, and you know it. Hoff ring a bell, doctor? Those poor people."

"That was their choice." And why were they talking about it?

"And you helped them. How many would have lived?"

It broke. With a roar Carson ran at him.

He slammed Abrams into the wall, thumbs pressed deep into his throat. He heard Rodney's yell, felt strong hands grip his arms, felt his balance try to give as he was tugged from behind. Abrams had his hands on Carson's wrists, trying to twist them away, but there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen, even if every bone cracked within him. A body pressed against his, and Rodney's hands joined Abrams' in wresting Carson away.

And that was when the rage passed, and reason slowly set in. He saw himself in action, saw in painful detail what he was doing. "Oh– Oh my god." He backed away quickly, knocking Rodney aside. He slumped, reached down for the floor, fell to a seated position.

Rodney was breathing heavily. He turned a livid face to Abrams, barely resisting the urge to punch him in the mouth himself. "That was totally uncalled for!"

"Like I said. That was the truth."

"It was not the truth! And what, were you trying to provoke him into attacking you?"

"He obviously has it in him." He spat. "Which again proves my point."

"And what point is that?"

"That your friend there isn't what he seems to be." Abrams folded his arms and looked down at the shaken man.

Rodney's jaw worked. His eyes blazed as he took four steps forward to glare into Abrams' face. "Unfortunately for us, you are exactly what you seem to be." He held the gaze, then turned and walked to his friend. Abrams just gave a huff of disbelief and turned away.

Rodney held onto Carson's shoulders. The man was shaking, trembling. "Look, forget about it. What happened, it's in the past. Right?" He sucked at the whole consoling thing. Never had a use for it.

Carson met his eyes, holding on desperately to the dark blue gaze he thought he had lost. "We've got to get out of here, Rodney."

"I know, I know." Rodney sighed. "I'm working on it."