Another day and again I have problems concentrating. We have Mrs. Flooy this morning and she is droning on about the development of food technologies.

"The processing of diverse organic matter into nutritional foodstuffs is one of the great technological advances of the post-scourge era. It is a truly revolutionary method to produce food, which drastically reduced the mortality rate inside the Fuge. As you all know…"

She goes on to show us diagrams and schematics of the processors, explaining in detail the liquefaction procedure and the importance of the melding agent. Something tugs at my mind. Something I have to remember. I realize I have zoned out, not focusing on the images flipping by on the screen. I blink hard. Try to concentrate. I don't need detention on top of everything right now.

The current image shows one of the liquefaction chambers located down in the basement. I remember seeing them for real once, when grandmother died. The L-Hall is where we hold our funerals. Nothing is wasted in the Fuge, not even the bodies of the dead. I read somewhere that before the scourge people would bury them, but we can't afford that. We haven't got the space, and we can't put prime nutrients in the ground to rot. I wonder if we'll ever return to the burying.

It comes to me like a lightning bolt and I have to stifle a cry. I try to turn it into a cough. Now I can concentrate even less. The time until lunch break is suddenly an eternity. Every word Mrs. Flooy utters burns in me; it is like I'm swallowing hot coals that land in the pit of my stomach. When we are finally dismissed I am the first one out the door.

I find the visitors in the food hall, sitting a little apart from everyone else. Or perhaps it is everyone else who are sitting apart from them. I grab my rations on a tray and head over to their table.

"May I sit with you?"

They nod and smile, scooting over to give me room. I sit and start to spoon today's sludge into my mouth. O'Neill stares at me in disbelief. I try to flash him a smile around the spoon.

"How can you eat that stuff?" His voice is as incredulous as his face, and belatedly I notice that the visitors' bowls have barely been touched.

I shrug and say, "You just try not to think of it and swallow. Besides, there's nothing else so it's eat or starve."

He eyes the content of his bowl critically. Tentatively he lifts a spoonful into the air and lets it drip down.

"Do I want to know what's in this?"

My face twists in a crooked smirk.

"I doubt it. But I might have to tell you."

"Is it related to that danger you think we're in?" He seems somewhat relieved at the prospect. I nod because my mouth is full with the last spoonful of my meal. I can't help throwing a covetous glance at his bowl.

"You want this?"

He slides the bowl over to me and I dig in. One ration is enough to sustain a grown man, but it doesn't really fill you up. I can't remember the last time my stomach didn't at least have a small hungry hole in it. Between the bites I try to continue the conversation.

"It is." Glop. "I figured out…" Glug. "…how you'll die."

"And you saw this in your dream?"

"Yes." Slurp. "I saw you in the liquefaction chambers. You were alive when they turned them on. I suspect it is a horrific way to die."

Carter leans forward, intrigued.

"What are the liquefaction chambers?"

"It's the part of lunch you don't want to hear about. Simply put, it's how we make our food. Organic matter is placed in the chamber and this…" I indicate my second almost empty bowl "…comes out."

They all stare at me, different emotions playing on their faces. O'Neill looks disgusted, Carter simply unbelieving, and Daniel looks like he might throw up. Only the dark one, Teal'c, looks almost unperturbed. In the end it is he who speaks first, posing the question on all their minds.

"For what reason would we be put in such a device?"

"I don't know. Could it have something to do with the tests?"

Carter nods ponderingly.

"It is possible. The elders are stonewalling me about the results. Sir, I think we should try to get a look for ourselves."

Afternoon lessons cement my theory that school has been turned into torture. I used to enjoy learning. Just sitting in the classroom or the library and soak in the knowledge. Everything the teachers told us used to fascinate me. Now all I can think of is the visitors and my dreams.

I wanted to go with them to the labs, but they wouldn't let me. Said I was too young and that I'd be safer going about my daily routine so no one would suspect. I still worry it's written on my face, that anyone can tell I got something to hide.

Somehow I make it to the end of lessons and hurry to dinner. If all has gone according to plan the visitors will meet me there. If it didn't… I get my rations and find a seat. The visitors are nowhere to be seen. If I hadn't eliminated thinking from the process of eating at an early age I might have had problems getting the food down now. I drum my fingers on the tabletop. Then I realize it might look suspicious and stop. Speaking of which, me sitting here too long is suspicious too. I never linger too long at meals. Reluctantly I get up and hand my tray in to the dishes. Since I don't know what else to do I head for the roof. After all, it is part of my routine.

The sun is setting early today. The space under the skylight is already full of shadows and I can only just make out the Great Ring in its park.

"Psst!"

I spin around like the top I used to play with when I was younger. My heart feels like it is trying to make its way up my throat and block the air supply to my lungs. Four newly familiar figures appear out of the shadows and I can tell the corners of my mouth are turning up.

"Daniel, Carter, O'Neill, Teal'c, you're safe!"

"Relatively." O'Neill's voice has a wry tone that suggests they may have been closer to not safe than he likes. He looks me in the eye, sizing me up. Somehow he manages to look remorseful at the same time. "Dila, I hate to do this, but we need to ask something of you."

I nod silently. I am too excited to form words. He looks away, out the window like I do so often. He keeps his eyes fixed there as he continues.

"You were right; we're on the menu. We need to get out of here, but we noticed there's some rigid security surrounding the exit. Can you help us get through?"

I nod again, but this time I find some words as well, "Take me with you."