Chapter 5.
My name is Meri and I am the last survivor of Enma. My people were once part of a great nation, prospering in a galaxy far beyond this world. They traveled here in hopes of a new home after having destroyed their own, arriving nearly one thousand cycles ago.
At first, there was peace, but soon came power, politics, and eventually war. In less than twenty cycles, more than half of Enma's population had been killed, maimed, or driven insane. At the center of this war was technology and those who would wield it for their own ends. The last emperor ordered a final assault on those he deemed dissidents, sending three thousand men, women, and children to their graves in a single night. It was on this night that the dark was born.
Many believed that the souls of those murdered made up the dark. They prowled as one creature through the land, seeking revenge for what had been done to them. Others wondered if the dark was a technological creation, made by those that would find power at all costs.
They say the truth is often a mix of different views, somewhere between what everyone believes and what really is. The dark was no exception. It had found consciousness the night of the massacre, created by a Holographic Specialist. He had found a way to interface the mind with the computer, so that a hologram was no longer visible to all, but only to the person who conjured it. But the link between the mind and computer had an unknown consequence, giving birth to a new creature that was neither man nor machine and had no body.
The dark did not feel at first. It had no concept of life or death, love or betrayal. It merely was. Its creator was dead from the instant the dark was born, his brain fried, but the dark felt neither remorse nor sorrow. It wandered aimlessly as energy, passing through minds, slowly understanding the world through the view of others. Not limited by a body, it could be in multiple places at once, and, it found, it could make anyone see what it wanted them to see.
That night, the dark traveled into the body of an old man that it found weeping. The emotion was strong within him and the dark felt compassion for the first time. The dark took the form of a beautiful woman with curly blond hair, an image from the old man's mind from a life long since lost. The man did not question his late wife's presence, though he knew it was not real. Perhaps he had hallucinated her before.
"You will be okay," the dark told him, but the man shook his head sadly.
"No, it will never be okay. The soldiers are coming."
The dark did not understand what the old man meant, so it sought clarification. "Who are the soldiers?"
"The ones that will kill my family," the old man responded. "I am but a weak fool with no way to protect them. Many of us will die tonight. I have waited, it is true, to move to the great beyond, but my family was never to go with me. Not so soon."
"Why don't you run?"
"They have us surrounded, there is nowhere to go."
"Then I will stay with you," the dark assured him.
When the soldiers came, the dark waited until the old man was dead, while visiting many of the others. It felt pain, hurt, betrayal, and rage. It learned of anger, revenge, and despair. Through a soldier's eyes, it discovered hatred and murder. It thought of the old man that had died so unfairly, and it did not want to grieve for this person that it barely knew. So it held to the thoughts of the soldier, deciding to harden itself. To thrive on death rather than be saddened by it.
The war raged on as many continued to die. Stories of a strange creature that visited the dead, that made one think horrible thoughts, started to pass among my people. They were afraid, but they were also controlled. The dark could make them angry. The dark could make them kill, and if it wanted, make them forget that they had ever done such an act. Distrust and anger covered the land with blood.
The ring that transported my people from one world to another would not activate, as though something were controlling it. Their spaceships failed them. There was no way for those alive to leave Enma and thus escape the dark.
There was a mansion beneath the ground, once used to shelter the Emperor, his family, and his servants. It was decided that a select group of survivors would hide, convinced the darkness could not find them there, could not get past their security measures. After one hundred cycles, they would return to the surface in the hope that they would be safe once again.
The creature prowled the lands until all were dead, but sensed that more lived below the ground. Its taste for blood had not been quenched, and it wanted more. The creature, born of a computer, could inhabit any machine. For many cycles, it tried to do so, having located the bunker, but there were fields and safeties that kept it from moving forward. Until at last, one day, it managed to override the controls.
With twenty men, women, and children sheltered there, it knew that its feast would be small. The dark contented itself with small things, non-lethal attacks and injuries, mysteries. At first, the survivors suspected one of their own, but once people started to die, murdered by friends and family, they knew that the dark had returned. It would kill them all and none of them could leave the bunker until a hundred cycles had passed.
A baby was born to one of the last two survivors. The mother placed it in the nursery and slept by her child's side, afraid not for her own life, but for that of her second daughter's. The first one had already been killed. That night the two survivors died, but the dark spared the life of the baby.
I did not know what the dark was. It came to me as my sister, wanting to play. There was something strange about her, and although I was young, I could sense a certain dementedness to my companion. We played together, ate together, and conversed about whatever she wished. For many years she was my sister, until at last I learned the truth.
In the computer room above, I found records left behind by my people, the history of my world. It was then that she told me about history from her view, about the terrible crimes she had committed. She told me she would keep me company, though, and that she would not harm me. She never let me leave the bunker for fear I would find a way off of this world. Occasionally, I felt her anger, and she made me hurt myself.
From that point on, I lived here as a prisoner, afraid of the dark, but drawn to its companionship. I was so very alone, you see.
And then you arrived, strangers from another world, walking through our graves and studying our technology. The dark led six of you here, thirsty for your blood. It enjoyed putting images of the previous massacres in your minds, watching how easily you scared. It sensed your friendship and loyalty, and longed to break it if only to prove it could. I believe it is not done trying. It bid me to hide upstairs where I could see you on the monitors, telling me that if I exposed myself it would kill everyone here in an instant, whereas if I were silent it would spare me a second companion of my choosing.
I do not defend my actions, but I was afraid and lonely. I did what it told me, not arguing. Now that you have found me, I do not know what it will do next.
Above us, your friends look for you, but they are also taken by the dark. Two are dead already, and even now the dark is manipulating their minds, convincing them to stop looking. Yet your friends are stubborn, and they will not leave.
You asked me for information as though you thought I could tell you how to destroy it. I do not know how. You wish to know how to leave, but even I cannot. You think you are safer, now that you know what is happening, but I believe you have never been in more danger. And now I have told you all that I know. Kill me if you wish. If you do not, I'm sure the dark will have you do so later.
The room was silent when Meri finished her story. Despite his massive headache, Sheppard kept note of each explanation, searching for any information that could help them destroy the dark, but no new ideas came to him. All he got from her tale was the sense she was telling the truth. Turning back to the injured, he watched them carefully, trying to decide what to do about them. He couldn't picture himself hurting any of his team, but if something was controlling him, would he be able to fight it?
It was Ronon who stepped forward first, turning his gun away from Meri and on the general population of the room. He moved between Rodney and Lorne, careful not to step on any of the medical materials in the way.
"Move." He motioned Carson, Sheppard, and Teyla toward the door.
"Whoa there, buddy. Did you just hear what she was saying?" Sheppard asked.
"Yeah, and I'm going to protect these two. Don't try anything or I'll shoot you. Now move."
Sheppard's P-90 was feet away from him, taken off when he had been injured. Unarmed, he slowly moved back as instructed, not taking his eyes off of anyone. Teyla, on the other hand, still had her weapon and kept it pointed at Ronon.
"How do we know you will not harm them or us? You are also under the influence of this creature."
"I'll fight it."
Carson remained silent during the interchange, backing to the wall as ordered. He slouched to the ground, a defeated man, still horrified by his actions, as he likely would be for a while. Meri, tears soaking her face, tentatively patted Carson's shoulder. "I am sorry," she whispered.
Satisfied Carson wasn't up to anything, Sheppard watched Ronon and Teyla carefully. Any moment now, he could see them shooting each other, and that fear burned within him. He couldn't just stand back and watch this.
"Listen to me, the only way we're going to get out of this is if we can trust one another. Pointing guns isn't going to do that."
"No one's hurting McKay. I promised him," Ronon replied.
Teyla was the one to respond. "None of us wish to hurt him, Ronon. He is our friend."
"And," Sheppard interjected, "our only way out of here. Don't forget that!"
Ronon kept his gun level, showing no willingness to back down. "Which is why I'm going to protect him. Put your gun down, now."
"I will do no such thing. Not until you do the same."
"Not happening."
Sheppard could see Ronon and Teyla's hold tighten at the same time. "Stop this. Both of you. We're a team. Remember?"
Neither of them was listening anymore. They remained motionless, daring the other to make the first move. John had seen those expressions before, back when Ford had taken them captive and given them the enzyme. Scared as they were, there was some part of them enjoying the fight, and that more than anything said Meri was speaking the truth. Something was controlling them. Heightening their emotions, confusing them until it came to blows.
"Guns down, now!" John shouted. "Teyla, Ronon! Fight it. Don't let it control you."
There was a soft moan on the bed as Lorne woke up from the noise.
Then Rodney moved, holding his head and crying "ow".
Carson was on his feet in an instant, heading toward his patients, but Ronon and Teyla both turned their guns on him at the same time. "Stop," Ronon commanded.
"I will not. Those are my patients and I'm going to see to them. Out of my way." He pushed Ronon's gun to the side. John ducked, just in case, but the weapon never went off. Teyla and Ronon shuffled right, giving Carson more room. Something seemed to break in their expression, as if a strange cloud that had been hovering over them had lessened, allowing them to see reason.
"Watch him," Ronon told Teyla, for some reason willing to trust her. "Make sure he doesn't do anything questionable."
Teyla had no more medical knowledge than anyone else in the room, but she nodded, moving toward Carson and lowering her gun. "Tell me exactly what you are doing," she said.
"Good." John breathed a sigh of relief. "I suggest all of us keep an eye on everyone else. When Rodney is well enough, all of us will go upstairs together and check out the computers. I don't think it can affect us as easily if we're all in one place watching for anything suspicious."
There was general agreement, though Ronon's gun remained at the ready.
"Uh, what's going on , Sir?" Lorne asked, trying to ease himself up so he could look at Sheppard, but Carson pushed him back almost immediately.
"Just stay still, you've been hurt."
"Yeah, I remember. Pushed. But, uh, what's going on here?"
"Don't worry about it, Major. Just do as the doc says."
Lorne looked ready to argue, glancing at Ronon's gun, Meri, and Rodney. John could imagine the questions he wanted to ask, but Lorne was a soldier and knew to do as he was told. "Yes, Sir."
"Well I want to know what's happening," Rodney muttered between clenched teeth. He was sitting up now, cradling his head within his palms, and shaking from the pain.
"What's all this about not trusting Carson?" He glanced at Ronon and Teyla, apparently having heard most of the conversation.
"Nothing to worry about right now," Carson answered, his expression filled with guilt. "How're you feeling?"
"Terrible. It feels like a sharp-toothed rat somehow crawled into my head and started gnawing on my brain."
Sheppard flinched at the description, wishing he could do something. He hated seeing any of his team in pain. Unwilling to stay in the background, he tried moving to Rodney's side, but Ronon growled, pointing his gun straight at Sheppard's chest. "Stay where you are."
"I'm going to him, Ronon, and you're not going to stop me. Understood?"
Ronon seemed to contemplate this for a moment, his eyes narrowed in distrust. Finally, he nodded slightly, warning, "Don't try anything."
Sheppard raced to his friend's side. "It's going to hurt for a while, but you should feel better soon."
"Okay, that's it, someone tell me what's happening." Rodney waved his hands in the air. "Why is he," he pointed vigorously at the Satedan, "holding everyone at gun point?" Then he noticed Teyla's gun to. "Or rather, why are both of them…" he wound his hands in the air apparently at a loss for words. His eyes twisted with the movement. He moaned, falling back against the wall.
"We're being controlled," Sheppard explained. "Teyla pushed Lorne, and Ronon attacked me. If we don't get out of here soon, whatever is out there could take us over completely."
Rodney, breathing loudly to ward off the pain, gazed in horror at his teammates. "What are you saying, that we'd all try to kill each other?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Great!" Rodney threw his arms up in the air once more. "You so better not shoot me again!" He pointed accusingly at Sheppard. "Remember how long it took me to recover the last time?"
It was a completely, annoyingly Rodney response. "I'm not going to shoot you, Rodney."
"Sure you're not."
Ronon took a step closer, still aiming his gun. "He won't. I won't let him."
Sheppard had always known the large man to be intimidating, but rarely was Ronon's aggression aimed at him. Despite himself, he took a step back. "Easy there, buddy. No one's trying to shoot anyone yet."
"Yet," was Ronon's curt reply.
TBC
I'm leaving them in a tight spot for now, but I'll post the last chapter tomorrow. :) I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am enjoying writing it.