40: Lost and Found City

It was not the first time Daniel Jackson woke up in a cell, and it would probably not be the last. Being on SG-1 seemed to bring with it a whole string of unpleasant places to wake up within, although in this instance the locale was not 'unpleasant'. Familiar, certainly, and for the time being quiet and seemingly empty.

It was dark, the lighting about the cell low and tinted a cool blue. Daniel sat up in the middle of a familiar box-shaped cell, through which he saw a somewhat larger room around it. Lighting pods were embedded in the surrounding walls, casting their subdued glow about the room. The floor itself was a hard, glazed surface, made from some exotic and strong metal-polycarbonate mix. There was little to be seen outside of the cell, save for some bare, darkened walls and a sealed double door. However, Daniel knew even the design of the door to be familiar and judging from the reaction of those also in the cell with him, they had reached the same conclusion.

"We're on Atlantis." It was Rodney McKay who said this, and he had risen to his feet nearby, rubbing at his head in an attempt to alleviate the lingering soreness from whatever it was that had knocked them out. Teal'c was already up and pacing about the cell, having risen much earlier, a result of his sturdier Jaffa physiology.

"I know this cell," McKay said, before his expression turned a little more downbeat. "I mean, I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but this is Atlantis. The brig in Atlantis, but Atlantis nonetheless." He stopped by one set of the somewhat flat bars keeping them in before he put a hand against them. There followed a flash of blue, energy rippling across the outside of the cell. McKay pulled back his hand with a pained grunt, the energy shield having sent a deterring zap up his arm.

"This is Atlantis all right," he added, sounding a little sheepish. He put his hands to his pockets, finding them to be emptied. A look of disappointment crossed his face. "They even took my chewing gum."

"I too have also been disarmed," Teal'c said, turning around to face the pair.

"How long have you been awake?" Daniel stood up with a slight unsteadiness. His head still pounded, which he supposed was to be expected when one was suddenly knocked out.

"Approximately half an hour," Teal'c replied. "No one has entered the outlying room during that time. However, I saw our opponents when they first ambushed us."

"They were human."

"Indeed." Teal'c gave an affirmative nod. "It appears that Conrad Holt lead us into a trap."

"Just not the kind of trap we were expecting," Daniel said. How could they have known that Holt would see them teleported away? Having a bunch of hired guns ambush you in a warehouse was one thing, but teleportation? It had been rendered much simpler by inadvertently activating a homing beacon. Daniel supposed Holt had been telling the truth, when he had described the mostly empty warehouse as a 'hub'. It was a place where people like him, those involved in the conspiracy, could go to get recalled back to headquarters. And headquarters, it seemed, was Atlantis. Few other Ancient 'city ships' existed, that they knew of. The logical conclusion was that this place was Atlantis, which meant it was in close proximity to Earth. It could very well have been on Earth itself, but that brought with it a number of questions, such as why no one involved in the stargate program seemed to know this?

"All right, let's work out exactly what the situation is here," Daniel said, and he glanced at both McKay and Teal'c. McKay appeared a little anxious, as expected. Teal'c was the very picture of calm and collected, also as expected. Daniel himself was brimming with questions, which was why he wanted to lay out everything they knew right then and there. At least that way they would know where they stood.

"There's a bunch of very powerful people working behind the scenes. They've been using technology acquired through the stargate program to build things such as the Broadsword. We know they were going to use this ship to essentially subjugate the Earth and other planets, but why?" Daniel asked the question of his companions. Neither had a solid answer.

"Power begets power, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c made this sound like the deepest statement ever made. Daniel often found himself impressed by the levels of profundity Teal'c could bring to even the simplest of phrases.

"But there must be more to it than that?" Daniel asked. He turned to McKay. "These people are working with the Void Demons, we know that much. It must be part of their plan."

"Corruption and subversion," McKay added.

"Again, but why?" Daniel allowed the question to hang in the air between them. "We need to find out where we are, and I mean where Atlantis is. Because it can't be on Earth. We would have noticed, surely." He hoped that would have been the case, but when it concerned this dark conspiracy he could not be certain.

"The city is probably cloaked," McKay said. "It could be sitting in San Francisco Bay again and no one would notice."

"I doubt it. We would have been informed."

"You're assuming the people behind all of this would inform us," McKay countered. He frowned, shaking his head. "I think that by now, we can be sure that the people behind all of this don't like us very much. They have tried to kill us."

"That's not really new for me." Daniel had lost count of the amount of people, human or otherwise, who had tried to kill him over the years. "I can't see how these people, whoever they are, could have taken control of Atlantis and started using it for their own ends. Someone in the stargate program would have known, someone in Homeworld Command or the Pentagon at least." It all seemed such a stretch, that somehow some secretive cabal had gone and commandeered what was perhaps the most powerful ship in the galaxy for their own use. Atlantis was both a city and a starship, it was armed with the very powerful Ancient-made drones that could rip an enemy fleet to shreds in seconds. The city-ship was supposed to be in the Pegasus galaxy, where a token presence in Atlantis would continue to oversee the situation over there. And yet, here it was now, no doubt far, far closer to Earth than any of them could have imagined. Just how many people were involved in this conspiracy? Just how far did it go? Did it go all the way to the White House, the United Nations, to the multinational organizations that had influence across the entire world? How far down did the rabbit hole go, really? Daniel was not entirely sure if he wanted to know the answers to this. He had a feeling that he would not like them at all.

"We need to get out of here," he said suddenly. "These people, they're keeping us alive for a reason."

"They'll probably kill us soon enough," McKay said, with an ounce of rising panic in his voice. "We're too much of a danger to them. Look at how close we got to finding out who's really behind this?"

"Well, we're alive for now." Daniel walked up to one barred wall of the cell, looking towards the door in the outlying room. How far would they be from the control centre? A good deal, no doubt. One would not want to place dangerous individuals so close to the city's operations centre.

"How do we get out of here?" McKay asked him, looking his way. "I haven't got any access in here. I could override the energy field's systems, but I'd need some kind of computer to do that."

At that moment, the door slid open, revealing an all too familiar man. Conrad Holt was flanked by two armed guards in combat gear, faces hidden behind tinted visors and respirators. Both took positions to either side of the door, whilst Holt strode on into the outlying room beyond the bars of the cell, the door sliding closed behind him. He was dressed in an immaculately pressed black uniform, one that bore no identifying marks; no names, no rank insignia, no indication of just who it was he worked for.

All heads in the cell went to Holt as he entered, their conversation stopping in its tracks. Daniel fixed eyes with Holt, who had his hands clasped behind his back as he stopped a few paces from the edge of the cell. He was wearing a set of black gloves, presumably standard-issue fare for someone working for a secretive cabal. One would not want to leave fingerprints lying around, after all, not if they were engaged in some illegal and morally dubious activities.

"Holt." Daniel practically spat the name as the man approached. "What the hell is going on here?"

"What's going on?" Holt smiled, knowing full well that he had the advantage in these circumstances. No longer was he beholden to the whims of this trio of intrusive ruffians. Were it up to him, he would have had them all killed. However, his superiors had ordered otherwise.

"You're not in any position to ask questions, Doctor Jackson," Holt stated.

"I'll ask whatever questions I want," Daniel countered, allowing some of his anger to seep into his voice. It became sharper as he spoke, suggesting a much deeper frustration: "You're working for powers that will only destroy you in the end. The Herald, the Void Demons, they're who you're working for."

"No, no, Jackson, that's not quite right. I work for human beings, not monsters. I cannot help it if my superiors happen to have close ties with these 'Demons'." Holt spoke with a somewhat carefree tone. Presumably this was how he justified it all; that he was not the one working for the monsters, rather it was his superiors who did. A flimsy means to justify it, at least in Daniel's view. Still, whatever helped Holt sleep at night. That was his prerogative.

"So, you acknowledge that they're 'demons'?"

"I acknowledge that the term is simply a colourful name given to my superior's associates by the Nomads, a name that has stuck. As for their real name, I don't know it and I don't care to know it. What I do know is what I see happening right now, and that is a trio of very nosy individuals who have caused me a severe headache these past few days. I would have had you all killed, were it up to me. But my superior wishes to speak with you all, especially you, Doctor Jackson." He offered Daniel a narrowed gaze. "Don't look so excited. Very few people actually meet the old man face-to-face."

"I suppose I should be honoured?"

"Well, seeing as how the old man and his close associates tend to dictate policies around the world, then yes, you should be honoured. More so than if you were to meet the President of the United States himself."

"I don't know about the President," Daniel said, a wry smile forming at his mouth. "I didn't vote for the guy."

"You didn't vote for anyone." Holt smirked, having noticed the slight way in which Daniel had quirked one brow. "We know all about you, Doctor Jackson. We know all about your companions here. We know that outside of your work, you live alone in an apartment in Colorado Springs. You have seventy-four thousand, one-hundred and ninety-seven dollars, thirty-two cents in a savings account. You have a range of investments across various fields that, in all, total to one hundred and twenty-two thousand, seven-hundred and fifty-two dollars and seventy-seven cents. Evidently, that is the kind of money you'll retire on, when the day comes. The Air Force does pay its civilian advisors well, doesn't it?"

This was an intimidation tactic, and it was one Daniel was not going to fall for. Of course, the shady cabal knew all about him, information was their most powerful tool.

"You're not registered with any political party. You don't even go out all that much, at least not unless it's to your place of employment. Your life is your work, as it is much the same for me. Sure, you've had the odd girlfriend, but it's never turned into anything permanent. Not since Sha're…"

"You don't have the right to say her name." Daniel's tone became hard, his eyes fixing upon Holt with a look that spoke of a carefully controlled anger.

"Perhaps not. But some would say that a man such as yourself should really have moved on from that loss."

"There are some losses that linger more than others." Again, it was not surprising Holt knew all this about him. The man had access to all the files and records of the stargate program, and among those would have been information pertaining to Daniel's long-gone Abydonian wife. Had he ever really recovered from her loss? He believed he had; he had forgiven Teal'c for being forced to kill her to save his life. Daniel had moved on, and yet sometimes he found himself pondering the loss, especially nowadays as his own age only increased. Being in his fifties, Daniel sometimes found himself thinking about his own mortality. It was inevitable, really, all the more so in this line of work, where death could spring upon him at any moment.

Holt turned to the guards behind him and nodded. One of them punched a few buttons in the control panel by the door. The shield around the cell deactivated, and the door in the forward face of it swung open. The two guards came in, their weapons held at the ready. The trio were unarmed, yet it appeared that these faceless guards were not going to take any chances.

"Back against the wall," one of them ordered, their voice sounding vaguely garbled and electronic through the mask they wore. Reluctantly, the three men turned their backs and leaned against the rear wall. The guards approached their rears then, and Daniel felt his arms forced behind his back before a set of sturdy cuffs were snapped closed around his wrists. The same was done to Teal'c and McKay, before the three of them were turned around and directed to the cell exit.

Holt led the way, taking them through the doors and into the blue-tinted corridor behind. There was no mistaking the interior décor: this was Atlantis, it had to be. There were even a few of those unusual central columns in the middle of the hall that were filled with blue-hued water, bubbling somewhat as the group went by. One thing Daniel noticed right away was how quiet the halls of the city were, with only the sounds of their footsteps clunking upon the sturdy floor providing any substantial background noise to their walk.

The group traversed one long, winding hall before they turned a corner and paused outside a door. So far, they had passed no windows, leaving the three visitors in the dark as to where Atlantis had situated itself. Holt hit a button on the panel by the copper-coloured door, allowing it to slide open and reveal the teleporter/elevator platform beyond. The guards coaxed the three captives upon the platform, before Holt stepped onto it with them. Turning to the display at the wall, thereupon was a map of the city and an indicator of where they were, in relation to the internal teleportation network as a whole. Holt tapped one active pad, causing a white light to swallow up the group, depositing them upon an identical pad seconds later somewhere else in the city. Daniel had felt little more than a tingle during the whole trip, a testament to the efficiency of the systems the Ancients had built into this place.

The noise outside of the room was much more apparent; voices carried down the corridors, as did the footsteps of those staff members walking on by. A pair of ordinary-looking men in grey uniforms milled about, engrossed in their own quiet conversation. With the door of the teleporter pad room opening, the pair turned to glance at the new arrivals, some surprise crossing their features when they saw the handcuffed trio. Nonetheless, they went on by on their own business, and they were followed by a young woman in a similar uniform, her gaze fixed upon a tablet computer she carried on one arm before her. In a way, it was reminiscent of the usual activity Daniel had seen on Atlantis when it had been in the Pegasus galaxy; you had the science personnel in their blue trimmed uniforms, the green of the technicians and even the odd red patched uniform of someone in the command/operations staff.

Daniel recognized the corridors of the central tower right away. He also sighted a set of windows ahead, for they were at the edge of the tower, several hundred metres above the city's ground level. Holt led them past the row of windows on the way to the operations centre. Darkness filtered in from outside, and it quickly became apparent as to why.

They were not on Earth. They were, however, very close to it. The grey, crater-marked landscape that spread out around Atlantis was oddly familiar, yet it was the distant, blue and white sphere hanging low on the barren horizon that told Daniel all he needed to know about where they were. The city was on the moon, positioned such that it could literally oversee the Earth as a whole, yet no doubt cloaked from outside eyes. That suggested the presence of a zero-point module, perhaps more than one. Stars filled the void beyond, yet it was an oddly desolate view with none of the appeal of the blue seas Atlantis had previously been positioned upon.

Holt paused by the windows, noticing Daniel's gaze, as well as the way in which both McKay and Teal'c turned to look upon the city's surrounds.

"So close, yet so far," Holt remarked. "Right under the noses of everyone on Earth. A perfect place to run the world, wouldn't you say?"

"Your superiors didn't happen to pick this one up from supervillain school or something?" Daniel returned Holt's amused gaze with something much firmer of his own. Holt gave a light shrug before he turned and continued walking, his two guards once again encouraging the captive trio after him. They rounded a corner and passed through an open double door before coming upon the lower section of the operations centre, a familiar sight to all three visitors. There were columns of tinted windows at one end, whereupon the stargate had once been situated. That stargate was absent now, leaving a noticeably empty space. Above was the control room, in which about half a dozen technicians and one operations officer oversaw the city-ship's key workings.

Holt took them up a flight of stairs across the main hall and past the control centre. The conference room was located at the end of a short corridor, which Daniel knew was not as he remembered the place: they had rearranged things, done some work here and there to isolate the conference room a little further from the stargate operations centre itself. A pair of guards outfitted in the same kind of black attire as the two escorting the prisoners stood before a secure door. Holt stopped before them, the guards watching him, faceless under their visors and masks.

"The old man wants to see the prisoners," Holt said, in a way that suggested he was on a strict timetable. Such an important person like himself should not be kept waiting by lowly security guards. "Step aside. He's expecting us."

The guards knew Holt and they knew that no one without proper clearance would have been able to reach the conference room in the first place. They stepped aside, allowing Holt access to the door. He tapped a few buttons in the panel next to it, causing them to slide open. The room beyond was dimly lit, and from where Daniel stood some metres away, he immediately felt a sense of slowly rising dread within his core. Whatever awaited them in that room would not be good for them, he realised this much.

What irked him in particular was how Atlantis had been subverted, turned to a use that was far from 'good'. Serving as the headquarters for those who were manipulating events behind the scenes on Earth was far from a 'noble' cause, hardly the kind of thing the Ancients would have intended for the city. And those who lorded over here now were in league with an ancient evil, which only furthered the notion that this place was being corrupted. As the Herald in the hotel room had mentioned, his masters intended to 'subvert' and 'corrupt'; doing just that with Atlantis was well within that plan, Daniel surmised. These same people had constructed the Broadsword in the hope of using it to subjugate Earth and other worlds. Sending the Broadsword back in time to be used for a much better purpose was a victory, certainly, but the people behind it continued their schemes regardless. Here and now, Daniel realised they were about to meet the man behind it all, the puppet master behind the scenes who ruled from the shadows and was supported by an ancient force of evil. The thought crossed his mind that they should kill this man if they got the opportunity, even if it was likely there would be others just like him waiting in line to take his place.

The conference room was the very same one the Atlantis expedition had used for its briefings; there had been an Ancient-built table in the centre of it, before Woolsey had replaced it with a somewhat narrower conference table from Earth. Interestingly, it was the conference table Woolsey had put in here years before that remained.

Subdued, blue-tinted lighting emanated from the light-pods set into the walls around them, casting the conference room in an eerie glow. Daniel was stopped partway into the room, as were McKay and Teal'c. Holt was ahead of them, while behind them, the doors slid shut. In the dark, Daniel thought he heard a low whispering sound, yet it felt as if it were coming from within his own head rather than from some outlying source. He tried to pinpoint it, his eyes and ears searching the room for anything that could be the source of the faint voice. It was a voice that did not speak in any language he recognized, and it spoke so faintly that even if it were conversing in a means he knew, he would not have been able to discern it. He noticed that Teal'c and McKay appeared to hear it too, with Teal'c narrowing his eyes as he examined the room before them. McKay appeared deeply unnerved, and he rubbed at his forehead in an attempt to alleviate a growing headache there, not that this action helped much. Even Holt seemed a little uncomfortable, although he did a good job of hiding it. As soon as he spoke, the noise ceased, as if whatever had been speaking wished to hear what it was Holt had to say.

"You wanted to see the intruders, sir," Holt said, and he stepped aside a few paces as to allow the man seated at the table an unobstructed view of the intruders.

Daniel set his gaze upon the ageing man seated at the middle of the conference table, and he detected the scent of burning tobacco through the uneven darkness. A glowing orange point appeared then as the old man lighted a cigarette, and there followed a long, audible drag upon it as he regarded the three intruders through pale blue-grey eyes. They were the eyes of an old, world-weary man, and yet in the small amount of light provided by the burning cigarette, Daniel saw some small amount of malevolence in those eyes. It was a fleeting glimpse, and it was soon replaced with a firm frown.

The 'old man' was in shadow, although Daniel could see enough of him to get an idea as to who he was dealing with: his age had to be well into his eighties, his complexion wrinkled with the advanced age, his scalp bereft of hair. The skin was blemished and pockmarked with the wears and tears of sun exposure and excess alcohol consumption. The old man's hands were thin and spindly, carrying little actual fat upon the bones in each. The black business suit he wore was pressed well and free of creases, and amongst the stench of tobacco smoke was something else, something noxious and almost sulphurous. It was only a minor, underlying scent, but it was enough to make Daniel wince as he caught a whiff of it.

The old man was just that: an old man, the kind of 'old' that one would likely see in a nursing home, probably hooked up to various machines to keep them alive. Something in the air seemed to shimmer to the left of the Old Man. Another fleeting flash of something, Daniel could not be sure what. Movement in the dark, yet there was nothing there to make the movement. He was briefly reminded of the insect-like 'Reetou' who had once attempted to destroy stargate command many years ago; they had been invisible to the naked eye, having existed on a slightly different wavelength compared to humans. Only through the use of specialised equipment could one see them, otherwise they were completely invisible, perhaps offering only a flash or a shimmer of their presence in one's peripheral vision. Shadows, just like whatever it was loitering next to the Old Man. Daniel was convinced that there was something there, even if he could not see it.

"You can wait outside, Mister Holt," the Old Man stated. His voice was raspy, almost wheezy; Daniel could imagine a puff of dust flying out of the man's mouth with every word.

Holt was surprised by the request, eyebrows perking up.

"Sir, I don't think—"

"Leave, Mister Holt. I wish to speak to these people in private." Even with his raspy, almost feeble voice, the Old Man could still sound authoritative and strong enough to shut down Holt's objections.

Holt fell silent, before he simply nodded in acknowledgment of these instructions, turned around and left the room. The doors slid shut after him, leaving the three visitors with their enigmatic host. A long silence followed, backgrounded only by the sound of the Old Man lightly puffing on his cigarette. Daniel felt increasingly uneasy, as did McKay. Teal'c, on the other hand, simply watched the Old Man through narrowed eyes.

"No one has ever come quite so close as you have," the Old Man said suddenly. He spoke with a hint of amusement, his withered features cast in partial shadow. "Plenty of people dedicate so much of their lives trying to unearth the 'truth', but they never come close. They are all missing some part of the greater picture, so it is no surprise that a few from Stargate Command had the pieces necessary to find us."

"Who are you?" Daniel asked him.

"Only a privileged few know that," the Old Man countered. "Unfortunately, you are not among them. You three are an aberration, but a not-altogether unexpected one. From you three, I intend on determining just what it was that lead you here. In turn, I will take measures to ensure that no one else can ever do it again."

"What do you want from us, really?" Daniel frowned, his patience wearing thin. "You could have just killed us, but you didn't. Why?"

"Because it would be a waste," the Old Man replied. "You three have a reputation. To have found your way here, to have even kidnapped Holt; that suggests more resourcefulness than most, and as someone who runs a wide-ranging operation that consists of numerous different fields, it only makes sense I posit to you an offer."

"An offer?" It was McKay who asked this, and judging from his tone, he did not entirely believe what he was hearing.

"An offer of employment," the Old Man said. "You will be free to live and work here, to carry out work for the benefit of humanity as a whole, and in turn the rewards will be far in excess of anything you may receive from the Air Force. Doctor McKay will be free to pursue his research in whatever happens to be his interests at the time." He then looked to Daniel, delivering the information in a casual tone, as if it was not his concern whether or not his guests accepted or declined his offer: "And you, Doctor Jackson, your services as one of the leading experts on alien histories and artefacts is second-to-none. Of course, you will have to stay here for a long period, until we're sure we can trust you."

"You can't be serious." Daniel could hardly believe what he was hearing. Judging from McKay's widened eyes, neither could he. "You want us to work for you?"

"It's an offer. Accept or decline, that's up to you." The Old Man took another long drag upon his cigarette before he blew forth a thick trail of grey smoke, only heightening the overall stink of burning tobacco in the room.

"What about Teal'c?" Daniel asked him, if only out of curiosity. Teal'c quirked one brow, equally as interested as to what this man had to offer him.

"Teal'c is an honourable warrior. He would never work for me." The Old Man smirked then; the expression was just visible in the dim lighting. "The two humans before me might, but the Jaffa? Not a chance. And yet, I extend the same offer to him as a courtesy: work for me, and I can help put a stop to all the ills that have befallen the Jaffa recently. Among those, the Calsharan invasion."

Teal'c's expression remained stoic, unreadable. He simply glared at the man with an intensity Daniel knew he saved for those he hated and intended to kill at some point. The Old Man was unfazed, and he calmly puffed on his gradually diminishing cigarette some more, before he tapped the burning end out into a glass ashtray upon the table before him.

"You can stop the Calsharans?" Daniel asked him.

"My associates can," the Old Man answered. "They'll be making themselves known very soon."

"Your associates?" Daniel paused briefly, as he considered the possibilities here. "You mean the 'Void Demons'?"

"The Nomad name for them. Very colourful and very inaccurate. They are here to elevate us, Doctor Jackson. Our creator rendered us in these frail bodies and cursed us with mortality; my associates will rectify that, grant us immortality if we align with them. They have already laid the groundwork for their return."

"How so?" Daniel wanted answers, and now seemed to be the best opportunity. Perhaps the Old Man was willing to tell him because he would have them killed shortly; either that, or they would agree to side with him. Daniel knew full well he would never accept such an 'offer', as doing so would be like making a deal with the Devil. And those never worked out well.

"Those who threaten them the greatest are all compromised," the Old Man explained. "Can you not see that, Doctor Jackson? The Calsharans have become divided, and as we speak a civil war brews. The Jaffa are fighting the Calsharans, the makalvari as well. And here on Earth, the governments of the world all answer to myself and the others within the Seven. For centuries, our families have built up a powerbase and have gained complete control of the world's money supply. Through our careful manipulation of the economies of the world, we can drive and steer events how we see fit. We can turn any politician who opposes us, either through blackmail, or bribery. And those who resist us outrightly are quietly disposed of. That is power, true power, and our associates will grant us the immortality we could only dream of."

Daniel could hardly believe what he was hearing, but at the same time he saw no reason not to believe it. The conspiracy theories were true, he supposed. To an extent, anyway. That secretive cabal behind all that was wrong in the world, and to top it off they were aligned with actual 'Demons'. Just how far down did this go? Seven powerful people at the top; as for those below them, just how 'in' on it were they? Or was it simply the Seven who had ties to the Void Demons?

"There's one here, isn't there?" McKay asked suddenly, and the Old Man's eyes shot towards him. Daniel knew what he referred to, that 'presence' they could all feel. It simply remained just out of sight, a phantom in the dark.

"They have eyes and ears everywhere," the Old Man said. "And they agree, the three of you could be useful. Hence the offer, and not the execution. Of course, the latter can still be arranged." The Old Man added this last part with a much firmer tone, the threat clear. The lives of Daniel, McKay and Teal'c were at the mercy of this man and his evil alien friends. The thought that the entire world was somehow under the control of this man and his cohorts disgusted Daniel, and it called into question so much of what he had believed in for his whole life. Was democracy just a sham, then? Was working hard and making money and attempting to reach that 'American Dream' all just a lie as well? What was truth, in the face of such a revelation?

"I saw where they're from," McKay added. His tone was serious, dark. "When I opened that window, I thought I was looking into Hell itself. And that's coming from a man who never once gave religion the time of day. But now I know, and I've thought about it for a long time: I was looking into a prison, wasn't I? And your associates, they all follow a master, don't they? At the end of the day, you're working for the middlemen. After all, I doubt you've even spoken to their boss?"

The Old Man's demeanour changed then, the quiet confidence fading, becoming replaced with a coldness that chilled even Daniel.

"The day we choose to work for you," McKay began, a small smile forming at his mouth, "Is the day pigs start flying out of my ass."

Daniel smirked at this, and even Teal'c managed one of his trademark cocked eyebrows. The Old Man was silent, staring at McKay but otherwise betraying no emotion. He did not appear offended, or if he was, he did not show it at all.

"If that is how you feel, Doctor McKay," the Old Man said, and he paused again, mulling over what to add next. What was he to do with these three? Killing them seemed like a waste, even if it was the most expedient option. "You three will be returned to your cell. I need to speak to my associates, as I believe they are interested in getting hold of you, Doctor McKay. And you as well, Doctor Jackson." He turned to Daniel then, and immediately the archaeologist developed a sinking, ominous feeling in his gut. If the Void Demons wanted him and McKay, then it could not be for anything good.

"What? You're going to hand us over to your friends?" Daniel asked him. "Why would they want us?"

"Why? It is not my business to ask them why they do what they do, or why they want you. In your case, Doctor Jackson, I suspect it has something to do with how you were once ascended and had access to all the knowledge of the Ancients." The Old Man spoke matter-of-factly, and once again he picked up his still smouldering cigarette and took a lengthy drag upon it. "I was hoping you would accept my offer, as it would mean some level of protection. However, since you have declined it so decisively, I will have to arrange for your transfer to my associates. They intend on unlocking whatever secrets you have buried within your head from your time ascended."

Daniel had suspected something to this extent, but the thought of it actually happening horrified him. The Ancients had erased his memories of his time ascended, yet there had always been the nagging possibility that those experiences were buried somewhere deep within his mind, no doubt locked away behind countless mental barriers. If anyone in this galaxy could break through and access that knowledge, it would be the ancient Demons of the Void. Daniel was certain one of them was in the room with them now, and he again heard that whispering, although now he thought it sounded more like an insectoid chittering noise. He could see nothing of the source, but he was sure it was there, and a glance at McKay suggested that he was feeling much the same.

The Old Man pressed a button on the intercom at the table before him.

"Mister Holt, you may return these three to their cell," he said into the device. Right away, the doors slid open and Holt strolled inside, joined by the two guards who had escorted the group earlier. Holt appeared satisfied, no doubt figuring that the three had declined the Old Man's offer.

"Are they to be killed, sir?" He sounded all too eager for that course of action. The Old Man shook his head slowly.

"Not yet. I must confer with my associates as to their fates. For the time being, lock them away. It may give them some time to rethink their positions."

Holt nodded in acknowledgment. He turned to Daniel, regarding him briefly, before flitting his eyes over McKay and Teal'c. With a wave, he motioned for the guards to bring them out of the room. Holt spun about and started walking, with the trio following a short distance behind. The two guards were at their flanks, escorting them back the way they had come, headed for the teleporter platform that had brought them into the control centre. As they moved, Daniel's mind was filled with whatever potentialities awaited them in terms of their captivity here; he knew he would likely fall into the custody of the ancient enemy, but what of McKay and Teal'c? Would they simply be disposed of? McKay might have had some use for these people, especially given his last experiment at Atlantis. An experiment that may in fact still be around here somewhere, a 'window' into whatever dark dimension the 'master' of this enemy had emerged from.

Surely it could not be the Devil himself? It seemed so ridiculous, yet something had formed the basis for the old legends. If the Goa'uld System Lords had been the basis for the tales of ancient 'gods' and the Asgard being that for the old Norse gods, then some extra-dimensional being of pure evil could surely have formed the basis for all those tales of the Devil, Satan, Lucifer or whatever else one wanted to call him. It was something Daniel wanted to investigate further, although his current circumstances were doing well to prevent him from doing so. If he could interrogate one of these 'Heralds', then perhaps he could find out more?

They came upon the corridor in which the teleporter platform was located. Teal'c moved along Daniel's right, his expression neutral, the look in his eyes a firm one. Holt paused by the door into the teleporter room, and it was at this instant that Teal'c made his move. Somewhere along the way, he had loosened his handcuffs. Whether that be through sheer physical strength or some kind of sleight of hand, Daniel did not know. Teal'c swung his arms around and knocked aside the nearest of the guards, sending him slamming hard against the nearby wall. In one hand, he produced a pencil, no doubt the same one he had found in the warehouse in Cleveland.

The second guard turned to face him, and Teal'c barrelled straight into him, plunging the pointed end of the pencil into his neck. The guard let out a pained gasp before Teal'c pulled the implement free, a gush of blood following from the ruptured artery. McKay stumbled out of the Jaffa's path with a look of shock on his face. Daniel, seeing the first guard recovering from his stumble and about ready to spin around to face Teal'c, kicked the back of the guard's left knee and sent him falling forwards. The guard fell to his knees, hands scrambling around his rifle as he tried to bring it to bear. Suddenly, Teal'c was above him, and with a single powerful thrust, he brought the pencil down hard through the guard's visor. It punched through the plastic, connected with the guard's left eye and plunged into his brain. The guard let out a scream as this happened, a scream that ceased abruptly as the improvised weapon became lodged in his head, his one remaining eye rolling backwards. The sight of the bottom third of the pencil sticking out of his eye socket was almost obscene, and Daniel was glad to have it shoved aside and out of his immediate view.

Holt had turned around to face the brawl, and from his waist he had drawn a pistol. McKay, however, threw himself hard against Holt, sending the two of them falling. The gun fell from Holt's grasp, sliding some way down the corridor. McKay rolled off of him, eyes wide as if he could not fully believe what he had just done. And then Teal'c was standing over Holt, one hand wrapping about the man's throat as to lift him back upon his feet. From Holt's waist, Teal'c found the keys, and he promptly unlocked the cuffs keeping Daniel's and McKay's wrists bound behind them.

Daniel flexed his aching muscles, glad to have full mobility once again. Teal'c pinned Holt against the wall by the teleporter room, glaring into the man's eyes with an intensity he only reserved for those he wished to kill.

"Get his ID card, Teal'c," Daniel said. He picked up the pistol Holt had dropped. It was a standard SIG 9mm model, but in these circumstances it should prove reasonably useful. "Any kind of key-cards he has, get them. We're probably going to need them."

"There is nowhere for you to go," Holt stated, but he was stopped from saying anything further as Teal'c tightened his hold around his neck. With his free hand, Teal'c searched the man's pockets, finding an ID pass-card of sorts, one he handed off to Daniel. Otherwise, Holt was carrying little else.

"We're not going anywhere," Daniel told him, and Holt looked to him with some confusion. "No, Holt, what we're going to do is call in the cavalry. As for you, well…" The temptation to kill him was there, certainly. Teal'c no doubt wanted to do it. However, Daniel's more reasonable side won out, and he picked up the set of cuffs that he had removed from his own wrists. He gestured for Teal'c to bring Holt with them, and the trio moved down the corridor some way before coming to a small storeroom of sorts. It was into here they stuffed Holt, before they cuffed one of his hands around the leg of a fixed metal bench close against one wall. They made sure to cuff his ankles together as well, essentially immobilising him for the time being.

To keep him from causing too much noise, Daniel picked up a yellow cleaning rag of from amongst the odds-and-ends stored within the room and tied it over Holt's mouth, reducing his torrent of verbal protestations to little more than a series of barely decipherable grunts.

With this done, Daniel stood over him, patted him on the shoulder in a manner one would expect for an old friend, and smiled down at him. Teal'c kept watch by the door, with McKay looking a little anxious nearby.

"They'll find him soon enough," McKay said.

"We'll be long gone by then," Daniel countered, as he turned to face the others. He ignored Holt and his agitated grunting, his mind already working on just what it was they could do here. "The city's a big place, and I'm sure the three of us know it better than anyone they have working here. We need to get word to Earth, and I have a few ideas how we could do that." He turned to Teal'c. "How did you…?"

"Escape my binds?" Teal'c made it sound like a mild inconvenience. "I have learned many things over the years, Daniel Jackson. Escaping a standard set of handcuffs is nothing new to me."

"And the pencil?"

Teal'c gave the smallest, barely perceptible hint of a smile.

"It is perhaps for the best you do not know how I concealed that item."

Daniel nodded his head.

"Yes, you're probably right." Some things are best left unsaid.

"We should move quickly," Teal'c added, from his place at the door. "I suspect our enemies will be tracking us through the city's scanners."

"A scanner grid that is patchy beyond the main tower." There were ways around it, ways that previous intruders into Atlantis had been able to exploit. "Besides, we have here the foremost expert of the city's systems." He turned to McKay, who suddenly appeared a little sheepish. "Tell me, Rodney, what do you think about committing a little sabotage?"