"What the bloody hell happened?" Carson demanded. Children were crying, and rumors that the sky was falling had spread like a windswept blaze around the village.
Teyla and Ronon stood at the door. They were soot stained. Teyla's face was nearly black and rubble had lodged in her clothes. Her hands were covered in small grazes. Ronon was sporting a newly developing black eye. He frowned with such ferocity that the villagers shrank away. He looked like the feral Runner Carson remembered removing the tracking device from.
"We have a problem," Teyla said. She picked a route through the gathered patients. Ronon stalked in her footsteps.
"And?" Carson said.
Teyla looked at Ronon. He didn't seem inclined to add anything, so Teyla said, "The DHD has been destroyed."
"So the noise…?"
"Was weapons firing on the DHD."
"Oh, god," Carson breathed.
He sat heavily on the box he had been using as a stool and stared across the room. What the hell was he supposed to do now? They were trapped here. He didn't know how they were to get home. And Sheppard wasn't answering the radio and could be in trouble. "That's not good," he said quietly.
Teyla shared her concerned glances between Ronon, who was pacing in the cramped space, and Carson. The doctor knew he must be white as a sheet and felt uncomfortably close to hyperventilating. All he could think was that he never should have gone through the stargate this morning. He knew it was going to end badly. He really wasn't meant for this kind of adventuring.
"When I get the people who did this," Ronon muttered as he paced, "they'll wish they never learned to work a radio."
Carson looked around the primitive hut and tried to keep his worry at bay.
He became aware of a gentle hand on his arm. "There is a DHD inside Sheppard's jumper, Dr. Beckett, and home is due to contact us in six hours," Teyla said.
The world shifted back into focus for Carson, and he was instantly embarrassed by his near panic. "Aye, lass," he whispered, and put a thankful hand on hers. He stood again. "Let's try contacting him again."
Teyla tried the radio but it remained silent. Ronon cursed and disappeared out into the village.
Because there was nothing else he could do, Carson turned back to the problem of the villagers. He had tested the last anti-viral on the blood samples, and it had had no effect. However, he was meeting marginal success with basic measures. Those most mildly affected seemed to improve with simple supportive treatments; hydration, chest physio and antibiotics to prevent opportunistic infections. But those with massive viral exposure (he guessed those who had drunk greater quantities of the affected water) died despite everything he did.
The apparent, if limited success seemed to galvanize the villagers' confidence in him to supply an answer.
They brought them hot drinks made with the well water. There was nothing else Carson or Teyla could think of to do, but wait for Sheppard and McKay or Atlantis to get in touch with them.
-
SGA
-
The world was moving. Something was thumping the world up and down, up and down. It was giving him a headache. "Go 'way," he murmured.
Instead of helping, the shaking got worse. Then he realised that it wasn't the world moving, but him. Someone was shaking him by the shoulder. It was accompanied by frantic words, but he couldn't follow them. Why the hell were they waking him up so soon anyway?
"Go away!" he said more forcefully this time, but opened his eyes anyway.
"Sheppard, wake up!" Rodney hissed. At least he stopped shaking John's shoulder.
Groggily, John answered, "I'm awake."
"Oh, thank god." Rodney sat down on his heels.
John rubbed a hand across his eyes as the headache cleared. His surroundings gradually came into focus. He was lying on the deck by Rodney's knees. Horizontal towel-rail things decorated the walls again, but they were poorly illuminated by a single vertical light. The roof was invisible high above them. It looked as if they were at the bottom of an elevator shaft. He clumsily pulled himself to a sitting position.
"What the hell happened?" John said.
"No idea".
Memories were slowly falling back into place. One of the first to return was of Rodney putting his foot in it. "You called them genocidal arms dealers!" He did remember that.
Even in the dim light, Rodney's flush was visible. Obviously he remembered it too. "It was true."
"Despite that, it really wasn't the most helpful thing to say."
In the gloom, Rodney's shoulder slumped. "I am aware of that, Colonel."
John had expected an argument. "Well," he said, and then stumbled on, "Well, don't do it again."
That got the expected rise; "Oh, ok, try not to open my mouth and say the first thing that comes into my head. That shouldn't be too difficult because I'm known for my tact. Ask any of my staff. Ask Zelenka, and he'll tell you, 'Yes, Rodney always thinks before he speaks.' Me, the paragon of diplomacy…"
John interrupted. "Alright! It was a stupid thing to suggest."
"I'm glad you realize that, because short of a gag…"
"You've made your point, Rodney."
"Good." He looked around the darkened room. "So, where has my mouth got us this time?" he asked glumly.
"From what I can see, it's the same design as the rooms above," John said even as he struggled to his feet. He finally noticed the long length of rope at his feet, with a loop tied beneath his arms. Rodney had already clambered out of his. "So, what do you remember?" he asked as he stepped out of it.
Rodney shrugged. "The computer and finding that virus on the screen. Then my uncharacteristic bout of honesty. There was that smell and…" his hands moved involuntarily to his throat. "My god, they gassed us didn't they?" He stared at John with a terrified expression.
John couldn't offer any reassurance. "Yeah, that's what I remember, too."
"Maybe it wasn't gas. Maybe they used one of those viral things they were developing. Didn't they say there was cross contamination between groups of humans? Maybe they wanted to check it out? The tests on the village weren't enough and they're sending us down here to be human guinea pigs in some a viral test. I think I feel hot…"
"Rodney, Rodney." John waved a hand in front of the scientist's face. "Rodney!"
"What did Carson say? Muscle aches, cough," he gave a half-hearted cough. "I think I'm coming down with something. Didn't I say that I catch cold like that?" He snapped his fingers weakly, then "And as if that's not good enough, we're trapped at the bottom of an elevator shaft in a maze of tunnels, with walls that are way too close and..."
"Rodney," John interrupted. He entertained the thought of the black eye he had considered back in quarantine on Atlantis. "How do we get out of here?"
"Yes, yes," Rodney snapped. "Distracting me is a good technique in sanitized infirmaries, Sheppard. But it works better if I'm not trapped in a claustrophobic nightmare at the bottom of a maze of tunnels…"
John looked around and considered their surroundings. The narrow walls rose up to dizzying heights. In front of them was an opening into a corridor that quickly faded to darkness beyond the reach of the dim light.
"You know," John said in his most thoughtful voice. "I'm not sure that this is actually a tunnel."
"And what else would it be? It's dark. We were lowered in here with ropes. I can hear water dripping." He counted each point off on his fingers. "Not to mention, of course, we got in here through a hole in a mountain."
"It was more like a hill." John said. "A grassy hill."
"And your point?" Rodney demanded. He had both fists on his hips, but his breathing had slowed.
"These walls don't look like anything natural." John said as he indicated the recesses and smooth curves.
"And non-natural things can still be tunnels. I seem to remember a special hatred of subways."
"But there's something familiar about it, isn't there?" John suggested, with the merest hint of a smile. He knew Rodney wouldn't have seen it.
There had been far fewer decorations in the firing range, and without the garish tapestries and portraits, the original architecture was more obvious. Firing weapons with 'Arthur', John had at last realized the reason the place had felt so familiar. He wasn't surprised that Rodney hadn't seen it though. Rodney was damn good at seeing the trees. He saw more trees than anyone else John had ever met. He did, however, sometimes forget to step back and see the Amazon Rainforest in front of his face.
Rodney glanced around the little space they found themselves in. John smiled at the rapid scan of the smooth walls and the doorway that opened up to the left. "Now that you mention it, there's something familiar about those ladder things…" He gestured at the towel racks.
John hated to deprive anyone of their 'eureka' moment. He leaned back against the wall and waited. He was aware he was grinning.
"It looks like…" Rodney paused. He glanced around one more time, "the Aurora?" he said incredulously.
"This whole place is very like the Aurora, don't you think?"
John watched the wheels ticking away.
"We're on-board a downed Ancient ship?" Rodney whispered in awe.
"Sure, they've had a lot of redecorating done."
Rodney clicked his tongue, but continued excitedly. "So their experimentation room is the main hanger. And the antechamber we entered the hill by would be the port airlock. And that ghastly place with all those wall hangings would be Corridor 7, past the crew quarters and the mess."
"You remember all that from the Aurora schematics?"
Rodney tapped his head. "Photographic memory," he said with a grin of renewed cockiness. "And it would explain why we couldn't scan the interior with the Jumper's sensors. The hull would protect against simple scans."
John grinned back at the much calmer Rodney. He clocked another point for distraction techniques.
"So, memory man, how do we get out?"
"How many floors have we come?"
John looked up the lift shaft. It was impossible to judge the distance. "I don't know," he said as he gazed up and tried to identify any landmarks. "I can't see a thing up there, but there must have been a hatch or something to lower us down…"
"Thirty meters."
"What?"
"Thirty meters, or ninety-eight feet in America." Rodney looked slightly bemused by the interest. He held the rope in both hands.
"I know what thirty meters is. How did you know?" Sheppard said, gesturing up at the shaft.
Rodney's grinned despite the situation. "No matter what you may believe about the Canadian school system, we are still taught the archaic art of translating into your outdated Imperial system." He passed the rope from one hand to the other.
Sheppard suspected McKay had deliberately misunderstood his question, but let it go. He knew he was in for a few conversations like this as a reward for recognising this was an Aurora-class ship before Rodney had.
"You measured the rope."
Rodney nodded. "Figures they would have to cut it when we were down here and they were up there. Thirty meters."
"Ninety-eight feet."
"So, how does knowing that help?"
"It doesn't, really."
"Why not?"
"Because we can't climb that," Rodney waved a hand up the shaft, "so we have to go that way." He did not look happy at the prospect of entering the 'tunnel' at all. "There should be a couple of exits to the exterior further along."
John had to admit he wasn't too thrilled about the prospect of marching through the dark bowels of an Ancient ship either, but they didn't have much choice.
"Please tell me you still have that flashlight clipped on your belt," John said hopefully.
No such luck, of course. They rummaged through their pockets, and weren't surprised to come up empty. No weapons, no flashlight, not even a power bar. The scanner was nowhere to be found. John remembered seeing it on the table in the research area and guessed that by now it was being plundered for spare parts.
The only item the Traders had missed was the life signs detector, stashed neatly in an inside pocket of Rodney's vest. Rodney handed it over without comment; John nearly always got a better reception on the thing. It glowed with a faint green light from two steady life signs; otherwise, the immediate surroundings were clear. Along with the two coils of rope, it was a meager inventory.
John gazed once last time up the empty shaft, then said, "Lead on McKay."
"You have the life signs detector. And at the moment that's the nearest thing we have to a light. Therefore, you first." Rodney shooed Sheppard on his way. "Pitter patter, Colonel."
John sighed and took point.
His first step over the threshold placed him knee deep in water that hadn't been visible from the bottom of the shaft. He gasped and leaned backwards.
"What is it?" Rodney demanded nervously, as he collided with Sheppard's shoulder.
John suppressed the urge to say something dramatic, settling instead for the obvious. "There's a lot of water."
"Oh great," Rodney muttered. "I'm trapped in the depths of an Ancient ship, in the dark, by a group of genocidal arms dealers and you make my day so much better by telling me I've got to get wet."
"Unless you want to stay here."
Rodney muttered something under his breath. John decided he was better off not knowing.
He stepped fully into the cool water. Rodney splashed after him.
John illuminated a section of the wall with the life sign detector. There was the same fine grain that he recognized from the Aurora. The water reflected the light from the life signs detector into the near-total darkness.
There was something unsettling about this place, John thought. More than he would have expected. A vague worry chilled him. He felt like he'd been here before, and it wasn't a pleasant memory.
"Is there a reason we're waiting here?" Rodney asked.
John shrugged to try to shake off his disquiet. "I thought you could use information to get your bearings."
"I know where we are, Colonel."
"Sure, at the bottom of an Ancient starship…"
"Corridor 15, mid-stern elevator shaft."
John stared.
"Come on. There's an airlock on the far side of the engine room."
Looking smug, Rodney took the lead.
Damn, John was going to pay for making Rodney guess about the true nature of this place.
When he caught up, John said, "I was going to ask how you do that, but I've decided I'd rather keep the mystery."
"It's the only shaft…"
"Mystery, Rodney. If you want to be a miracle worker, you've got to keep the mystery."
They splashed on.
-
"So, Rodney," John asked eventually. "What do you suppose happened here?"
Rodney shrugged. "I'd guess the ship was either parked here by the Atlanteans, or crashed."
"I can't see why they'd park it here."
"No. They probably crashed, then moved in with the locals."
"Or the locals wiped them out."
Rodney frowned at John. "Well, whatever, I imagine that the Traders relocated here pretty soon after. Some of them would have to have the ATA gene, at least in the beginning, to get this stuff working. And the shielding means that the Wraith can't find them, so they don't have the same perpetual Dark Age as the other folks we've met. They can keep their research from generation to generation, and tinker with enough Ancient tech to teach themselves how to keep this place running."
"Then, of course," John said, "it's only a matter of time before you branch out into weapons manufacture and the destruction of your relatives."
Rodney shrugged.
"Although that doesn't explain the water," John said.
It was no deeper, and had remained cool. The splashing meant they couldn't be stealthy, but it also meant that no one would be able to creep up on them. No one could walk through knee-deep water quietly.
"I'd guess," Rodney said, "there's a breach in the hull somewhere that's letting in an underground river and this place is filling up like a dam."
"Maybe one day drowning our kind hosts," John said hopefully.
Rodney glanced at the wall. "I don't think so. See, the water line used to be here." He pointed out a faint line a couple of inches above the current water level.
"So the water's draining out somewhere," John guessed.
"Yeah," Rodney mused. "Or it's being taken off."
John wasn't sure why Rodney looked disconcerted by either prospect, but his brows were knitted in thought.
"Spill it, Rodney."
McKay shrugged. "I don't know. Come on. The engine room is just along here."
-
After walking for several minutes, John was about to ask if Rodney was sure that they had come the right way when he spotted writing on the wall. John couldn't read it, but he knew Rodney could.
"So," John prompted.
Rodney answered with a flourish. "Engine room."
"You know, we could go exploring."
Rodney glared at him. "You cannot be serious?"
"We may never get another look at an Aurora class-ship, Rodney," John said seriously.
A tirade trembled on the scientist's lips, probably concerning irresponsible and frivolous colonels. He closed his mouth abruptly and stared at John suspiciously. "You are joking, right?" he asked tentatively.
"Maybe. A little. But let's just get out of here and back home." He lifted up one soggy boot in emphasis.
"So, if this place was dry, you'd go explore?" Rodney asked in exasperation.
"Obviously." Sheppard smiled.
"Liar."
"And you, Dr. McKay will never know. Let's get out of this dump."
Rodney indicated the next corridor as the one they wanted. They rounded the corner, where a bulkhead unexpectedly halted their progress.