Makepeace contemplated his fingernails. It felt like hours had passed. In the utter isolation of the windowless bunker, without anything other than body rhythms to use as a timepiece, it was impossible to tell how much time he and his men had spent down here. How many times did he use the toilet, and was he tired or hungry only because he was bored? It took a lot of effort to keep himself from pacing the confines of the bunker.

Instead he subdued his restlessness and forced himself to relax on the comfortable sofa. He kept one eye on the plate sitting on the coffee table. A little while ago he had deliberately left a half-eaten energy bar there, just for experiment's sake. Andrews had shaken his head and told him he was wasting his time.

"Contrary to popular myth, sir," the gunnery sergeant had pronounced, "a watched pot will eventually boil, but no way will this room clean itself up while you're paying attention."

"It's my time to waste," Makepeace had grumped in return. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

So far, Andrews had been proven right. The food and dirty plate remained as Makepeace had left them, crumbs and all. It really was irritating.

Or you're just that damn bored, taunted an unpleasant little voice in his head.

Everyone was bored, and worried. Requests for information continued to be ignored. Whatever was going on outside had to be bad. Makepeace couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with them. This planet had been barren for thousands of years before their arrival. Now it was under attack. Coincidence? Nope, his credulity didn't stretch that far. The events had to be related.

The utter boredom led to a conversation Makepeace would have preferred to avoid. Henderson plunked down beside him on the couch. "Sir, I've been thinking—"

"Again?" Makepeace said wearily.

Henderson looked curiously at him.

Makepeace said, "Corporal, the last time you said 'I've been thinking' you came up with the world's dumbest idea."

"Ah." Henderson shifted a little. "Yes, sir. I'm afraid I agree with that assessment. Um, by the way, thank you for thinking it was a dumb idea."

"No problem. We hadn't quite reached that final stage of desperation yet." Makepeace didn't mention that he felt they'd reached it now. It didn't matter; that option wasn't available as long as they were trapped in the bunker. "Besides, I could tell you didn't really want to do it."

"You could?"

"You weren't exactly hard to read."

Henderson scratched his ear. "Yes, sir."

Makepeace put his hands behind his head, leaned against the backrest, and stretched his legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table. "So, what have you been thinking about this time?" He closed his eyes and waited.

"The effects Vara's language probe had on you."

Makepeace's eyes snapped open. He didn't move. "And?"

"Well, the first time Sitala was here, Vara would have needed to understand the Goa'uld language. It probably used that probe on Sitala or one of her subordinates, in order to communicate."

"Yes. So?" Makepeace relaxed again, now that he was sure Henderson didn't intend to scare him with warnings about potential complications.

"In the records Vara showed us, Sitala and her people used human hosts. Now, it's doubtful she let Vara scan her own sacrosanct person..." Makepeace snorted. Henderson grinned and went on, "Anyhow, whoever Vara did scan was likely a human host: either a Jaffa or a minor Goa'uld underling."

Overhearing the conversation, Andrews and Johnson came and joined their teammates. Andrews settled into an armchair and said, "You're wondering why Vara's scan hurt Colonel Makepeace. Vara should have already had a record of the human brain, and known what adjustments to make to its probe."

Johnson remained standing, and folded his arms across his chest. "You think Vara injured him deliberately? Maybe took a little revenge when it thought we were Goa'uld?"

"Actually," Henderson said, "no, I don't think there was any deliberate malice involved. Vara stopped the probe the instant Colonel Makepeace collapsed. I think it was surprised. It must have originally scanned a Goa'uld or a Jaffa, rather than an ordinary human slave. Even if it hurt whoever got scanned, the symbiote would have healed any brain damage fairly quickly. Vara would never have realized its probe was so harmful to humans."

Makepeace grimaced. "Maybe Vara ended up scanning the symbiote's brain, instead."

"Or the two brains somehow shared the load," Henderson said. "Either way, the human host would've been okay, and Vara wouldn't have had a clue that there would be a problem with scanning us. It just assumed we were Goa'uld speaking a different language than before, and followed its own standard procedures."

Andrews said thoughtfully, "Vara must've only been looking for language when it scanned the Goa'uld. Otherwise it would've known immediately that Sitala was a disaster in the making."

"Yeah," Henderson said in agreement. "It's a pretty sure bet that it didn't do any memory exchanges with Sitala or her people. It rectified that mistake with the colonel."

Makepeace winced at that particular memory. "You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you, Henderson?"

"There isn't much else to do down here, sir." Henderson shrugged. "I thought it might help give us some insight into what makes Vara tick. Not that that seems to matter, at this stage."

"At least we have a theory to put into the official reports when we get home." Optimist, the little voice in Makepeace's head sneered. Still, a positive attitude was always good for morale, and hope had carried more than one impossible battle in Earth history. Defeatism, on the other hand, only bred defeat.

"I was wondering, sir, if, well, do you have any of Vara's memories about this? Could you confirm the theory?"

Makepeace scowled, but went ahead and searched his unwanted collection of alien memories. He came up empty. "Nada," he said, ignoring the disappointment that flitted across Henderson's face. "Either it didn't take, or Vara didn't consider it important enough to implant in the first place. Those memories are pretty shaky, anyway, you know."

The conversation petered out, and ennui once again became the order of the day. Makepeace resumed his watch on his mess-cum-lure for the housekeeping pixies. The others napped, or snacked, or searched the bunker for the umpteenth time for an exit.

Eventually, the sound of grinding broke the boredom but increased the tension. They all turned to watch as the heavy door slid open. Six of the golden spheres entered. Warily, the men stood up. The servitors encircled them and nudged them toward the door.

"I guess they want us to go with them again, huh?" Johnson said.

"All right, all right, I'm moving, already," Andrews snapped as one over-enthusiastic orb bumped him again and again. "After all this time cooling our heels down here, now they want us to rush? Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. Jesus, it's just like the freaking military."

"Colonel?" Johnson said, stubbornly resisting the orbs around him.

"We go with them," Makepeace said with resignation. "It's the only way out of here."

SG-3 stopped arguing with their enigmatic guards and allowed themselves to be herded out the door. Although he knew it would just annoy him, Makepeace couldn't resist looking back at the coffee table. Sure enough, during the distraction created by the spheres, the room had cleaned itself up. The plate and food were gone, the crumbs swept away, the table sparkling clean.

Really, really irritating.