I run. The path is familiar and easy. The corridors of the Fuge lie empty before me. My feet dance across the concrete floors. I'm pulled by a sound. I have to run faster. There's no time. It will soon be too late. I am far down now, rushing through the lab section. I'm close. The sound is stronger. It's voices. Screaming voices. They're in boxes. The visitors. In glass boxes. And there's another sound. Thump, thump and grind, grind. A machine coming to life. Fluid pours into the boxes and they are screaming, screaming. I try to reach them, but my legs won't work. And now I am in a box and the fluid starts pouring…

I wake covered in sweat. The sheet is tangled in my legs and for a moment panic grabs me. The darkness is oppressive. I've never been afraid of the dark before. It's constituted a third of my life, as safe as my mother's arms it used to be. Now it lies heavy on my chest, trapping me, for the second time in as many nights. And I can't stay where I am.

The sheets stick to my skin and it takes a moment for me to peel them off. As soon as I am free I scramble out of bed. The cool floor is balsam to my feet, waking me up properly and chasing away a bit of the night terrors. My path takes me up to the skylights and I drink in the space above my head. With a little imagination I can pretend that there is no glass between me and the sky.

I stand for a while, eyes half closed and face turned up, and let the starlight wash over me. The sweat is cooling on my skin, but the dream lingers with me. Yesterday I dreamed of the Great Ring and then the visitors arrived. I can't help feeling that tonight's dream means something too. Before the thought is fully formed I am headed down the stairs toward the visitors' room.

The lights are on in the last corridor. I creep around the corner. There are no guards so I approach the door. After another moment's hesitation I give it a swift rap with my knuckles. I wait anxiously, my nerves so tightly wound that I jump when the door opens. I try to hide it.

"Hello?" It's the one with glasses, Daniel.

"Hi," I say and give a little curtsy. My mother taught me good manners. He smiles and steps aside.

"Do you want to come in?"

The room they've received is sparse, but lit like the middle of the day. The visitors must be afraid of the dark. Four beds have been put in for them and a table with chairs. I can tell none of the furniture was here before someone decided to house the visitors here.

To my surprise Daniel is not the only one awake. The other three are sitting or lounging on their beds. I feel their eyes on me, evaluating, curious, wondering what I am doing here. I start to wonder myself. Then I remember professor Colch and I lift up my chin.

"Hi. My name is Dila. I…wanted to meet you."

The elder, O'Neill, sits up and gives me an appraising look.

"A crafty girl, ey? And how come you wanted to see us so badly that you traipsed over here at three in the morning in just your jammies?"

His words make me self-conscious again, and I notice that I am in fact wearing nothing but my sleeping gear. But I did have a good reason to come.

"I think you might be in danger."

"Danger, huh? What a change for us."

"Perhaps you should sit down," Daniel cuts in, and offers me a chair. "I think we all have some questions to ask. Why don't you start and tell us a little about this place?"

I sit and try to gather my thoughts. Four pair of eyes lay on me, waiting.

"Where should I start?"

"How 'bout what happened out there?" O'Neill jerks his thumb in a vague gesture towards the Outerworld.

"Well, as history tells it, the scourge arrived."

"The scourge?"

"A sickness that killed most of our planet's population. No one knows where it came from and no one was safe. It was in the air, everywhere, getting to everyone. Refuge complexes were built but only a few managed to get inside. This complex – we call it the Fuge – only got half full. They had to lock the doors and leave many outside or risk the scourge getting inside."

"So everyone outside was just left to die?" There's accusation in O'Neill's voice. I have no answer to give him. No defense on behalf of my forefathers. I think about it often myself in fact, whether no more could have been saved. Daniel catches my eyes and smiles reassuringly.

"How long ago was this?"

"A hundred and twelve years."

"And no one has come in or out in all that time?"

I shake my head. "The Finders go out sometimes. They're the search team that came to find you. They take measurements to see if the scourge is gone, and look for things we can use. But no one new has come to us before you. Did you really come from another planet?"

"Yes." Daniel's voice is warm. "Our planet is called Earth. We came through the Stargate."

"The Great Ring? I know. I saw you."

O'Neill straightens up. I see intelligence in his eyes, calculation.

"You saw us? How? I didn't think you could go outside."

"There are skylights on the roof. I like to watch the city whenever I can. I was up there yesterday morning, because I couldn't sleep. I had a dream that I ran to the Great Ring and I was waiting for something to happen. I had to see the Ring. And then you came."

I can tell they are skeptical, and I don't blame them. I've never known a place where adults put stock in the dreams of a girl. But they have to believe. If they don't there is no way I can stop what I saw from coming true. A cold hand grasps at my heart. They have to believe.

"I had another dream. Tonight. I dreamed you were in danger, dying. I came to warn you. I think you may die if you stay here."

O'Neill considers me, his head cocked to the side. At least he doesn't rush to brush off danger.

"Carter," he says, thoughtfully. "What's your threat assessment?"

"They haven't shown any hostility, sir." Her voice is curt and formal, but it has an undertone of affection.

"What about the tests? Any risk there?"

"No, sir. You know they just drew some blood and took a few small tissue samples. They didn't say what tests they were going to run but there isn't much they can do with what they got."

"But you are in danger!" I can't contain my desperation now, my voice pitching when I object. "I saw it, just like I saw you coming."

Daniel claps my hand, reassuringly.

"Sam," he says, to the woman. "Did they say why they wanted to do those tests?"

"No…"

"Smelling something fishy, Danny?" asks O'Neill. Daniel frowns and adjusts his glasses.

"Maybe. I don't think it would hurt to be on our guard."

For some reason O'Neill appears to relax at these words. He leans back on his bed with his hands behind his head. His voice turns to a derisive drawl.

"Ah, you know me. I never stop being on my guard."

Daniel grins and rolls his eyes. I'm getting the feeling there's a joke here that I'm not in on. My confusion must be obvious, because he quickly sobers.

"Thank you," he says. "We do take your warning seriously, and we will be careful."

I bite my lip. I suppose it's as good as I'm gonna get.

"I should get back to bed before the morning bell tolls."