Samantha Carter surveyed her motel room with a certain dissatisfaction. There were two choices for a work surface: a flat but smallish table in the corner which did, in its favor, possess easy access to power and almost adequate lighting overhead, or the second of two double beds that had the size she needed but a surface little better than a trampoline. She chose the table. Some of her equipment would have to be placed on the floor for people to trip over as they answered the calls of nature and Colonel O'Neill.

She set up the boxy looking affair, hooking in wires to connect the various pieces and adding a cable or two to provide the electric juice to power the thing. She'd been looking forward to testing this particular device, although when designing it she had expected to transport it off-world rather than to Peyote. This was better, she reasoned; the thing weighed in at slightly over one hundred pounds altogether which would be a trifle troublesome to stuff into a backpack and carry through the StarGate. Transporting it on the MALP would be better, but that meant shuffling the MALP through the StarGate event horizon and babying the thing to get the data she needed. This particular piece of newly designed equipment was a scanner designed to search for naquedah, a mineral in scarce supply on Earth but used in most Goa'uld technology. The theory, Carter explained to her superiors, was that if Daniel had been snatched by the system lord Teknet to track down Teknet's cache of weapons, then she should be able to locate the archeologist by finding those naquedah-powered weapons herself, assuming that Daniel was correct in his belief that those naquedah-powered weapons were near Peyote.

There were other advantages to testing her scanner on Earth, the main one being a reliable source of power that came in a fairly standard voltage instead of needing to haul along a generator on the over-loaded MALP. Box number 3A was designed to remove any variation from that Earthly source, and she fed the electrons into the mess by plugging in the electrical cord into the outlet in the wall. Dials whirred.

One particular dial didn't. Carter grimaced, picked up a screwdriver, and attacked the back of Box 6B until the offending dial realized that it had better live up to its responsibilities if it wanted to continue to be part of her invention. Carter then tapped on a few more buttons, adjusted a lever or two, and peered at her results.

Nothing.

"Carter?" O'Neill rapped at the door, looking doubtfully at the Rube Goldberg device perched on the too small table.

"Not yet, sir." Carter's attention remained absorbed by her spanking new toy that had been hastily added to the load in the back of the SUV, crowding out the spot they had left for Daniel's books.

"'Not yet' as in 'you haven't found anything' or 'not yet' as in 'there's nothing to be found'?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I'm still trying to find that out."

"Oh." O'Neill surveyed the mechanical mess a moment longer. "I left you some pizza in the other room."

"Thank you, sir." Carter continued to poke at her toy.

"Teal'c and I are going to go out and see if we can find Daniel the old-fashioned way."

"Yes, sir."

"You'll wait here. We can call in." O'Neill tried to make it sound like an order. Just to remind himself that he was in charge. And that Carter was paying more attention to him instead of her doohickey.

"Yes, sir."

"Don't go anywhere."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't jump off a bridge."

"Yes, sir."

"There are no bridges in Peyote, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

"You're not listening to me, are you, Carter?"

"Yes, sir."

O'Neill quietly eased himself back out of the room.

"Fetch me the tuvatka're," the Goa'uld commanded.

Daniel froze. That particular piece of twisted Goa'uld technology he remembered very well. Teknet had used it on him several months ago in an attempt to brainwash him. Teknet hadn't been successful, but only because the rest of SG-1 had intervened. Without them? Well, the SGC would have been calling him the First Scribe of Teknet. And then would zat him.

"It won't work," Daniel said bravely, wishing that his voice wasn't cracking with thirst, that the blindfold wasn't robbing him of a chance to glare at the Goa'uld. "You're wasting your time. Besides, there's no cold here to soften me up."

Teknet chuckled. It sounded particularly evil when accompanied by the cavernous tones of a Goa'uld, even with Teknet's voice pitched higher than most. "I do not require cold, little scribe."

"You can torture me all you want. I'll never give in. You'll never get the location of your devices."

"I think I will," Teknet purred, gliding up to his captive. Daniel could hear the footsteps mince forward, but he felt the Goa'uld's hot breath as the host applied the twisted wire contraption to his skull.

It began at once. Unwanted thoughts seeped into his mind: Teknet is your god. Teknet is your god. They were quiet, almost unheard, and simple to ignore but Daniel knew that state of affairs wouldn't last long.

But if Teknet wasn't going to apply any other form of torture? Daniel could hold out for several days. It was only with a weakened victim, one whose mind was being assaulted in one form or another, that this Goa'uld technological toy would divert the human will in a matter of hours. The last time Teknet had tossed Daniel outside to freeze in the snow to facilitate the process. Daniel sniffed the hot dry air. A blizzard was outside the realm of possibility here in the desert.

Teknet is your god. Teknet is your god.

Teknet slipped behind him. "My toys," he whispered into Daniel's ear, his breath hot and heavy. "My devices. Where are they?"

"Go to hell. As soon as possible would be nice."

Teknet is your god. Teknet is your god.

Teknet licked the nape of Daniel's neck lasciviously, tracing the edge of his hair line with a single delicate finger. "Don't give in too easily, little scribe," he cooed. "I want to use you as you have never been used before. I want to feel you dance under my hands. Your screams will be as music to me." Teknet pushed in close behind his captive. Daniel could feel the rock hard parts of the Goa'uld host body pressing into him, promising more horror to come, and the Goa'uld's hands wandered over Daniel's chest, fondling the muscles there, tracing every line. Disgust filled him. He shuddered. If I throw up, will he go away?

Teknet is your god. Teknet is your god.

Hands suddenly pinched and twisted tender flesh, distracting Daniel from the struggle in his head. Daniel yelped, pulling at the ropes that lashed his hands to the posts, trying to get away, trying to escape from Teknet's ministrations. The ropes burned at his wrists, drawing blood, and he welcomed the pain as a respite from the tuvatka're.

"I haven't finished with you, scribe." Lusty pleasure was hot in the Goa'uld's voice. "Fight me! Fight me!" He suddenly plunged his hands deep into Daniel's skivvies, grasping the sensitive parts he found there. Daniel yelled and bucked, desperate to get away.

"More! More!"

Teknet is your god! Teknet is your god!

The voices in his head grew louder as Teknet's hands demanded a response from unwilling flesh. "Yield to me, scribe!" the Goa'uld crooned. "Give yourself to me! I am your god!"

"Go…to…hell!"

Teknet withdrew his hands and kissed Daniel tenderly on the shoulder. "Good," he whispered. "Don't make this too easy. We have plenty of time."