Rodney huddled in the cave and tried to breathe quietly. He wasn't sure which part of Sheppard's plan he hated more, the staying in a cave or the staying in a cave alone. In Afghanistan. Or at least what was supposed to look like Afghanistan.
The cave was only a few meters deep, more of an enclosed overhang than an actual cave. It didn't really matter, though. All his brain heard was 'enclosed', and that was enough to make his heart start to beat faster, and his palms begin to sweat.
In the name of distraction, Rodney considered ways to streamline the power consumption in the kitchen back in Atlantis so there would always be hot coffee, wrote an algorithm in his head to data-mine the Ancient database for planets that might have coffee beans, and wondered if Teyla and Ford had missed them yet. He figured he'd been waiting at least an hour for John to come back when he noticed the light in the cave started to change as the sun began to set.
Great, he thought to himself. The sun was going down, and Sheppard was still out there. Was he all right? Rodney wondered. Sheppard had clearly been worried about insurgents during their hike into the hills but were there predators in this desert they should have been watching for? Had The Overseer led Sheppard into some sort of trap? What would he do if Sheppard didn't come back?
"Sheppard can take care of himself," Rodney told himself. "He's an Air Force major with years of combat experience. He was just going to take a look around. He'll be back soon."
He glanced out at the fading light, and all of his carefully constructed arguments fell apart in the face of cold logic. "Sheppard should have been back by now," he said and glanced at the cave opening. "All he was doing was going to look at the valley. How hard could that be?"
Rodney watched the cave opening for a few more minutes, then made his decision. "You didn't want to wait here in the first place," he muttered. "If Sheppard is in trouble, you're the only one who can help him."
He blew out a breath and crept toward the cave entrance. He had his hand on the branch covering the opening when he heard movement outside.
"Not good," he said to himself, backing away from the opening. "Really, not good."
Whatever was outside, it was trying very hard not to be heard, and Rodney searched the cave until he found a good-sized rock. He picked up the rock and drew back his arm, ready to throw the stone at whatever came through the opening.
Figures, Rodney thought and felt his heart hammering in his chest. The one time he actually wanted to have a gun, and it was safely back in the armoury in Atlantis.
The footsteps stopped just short of the cave entrance, and Rodney held his breath and readied his rock.
"Rodney?" Sheppard called in a low voice. "I need you to put down whatever it is you're about to bean me with, all right?"
Rodney sagged against the back of the cave for a moment, then dropped the rock and peered out into the gloom. "Sheppard?"
"Yeah, it's me. You gonna let me come in?"
"Yes, yes."
John entered the cave, and Rodney saw the smile on his face when he noticed the rock at Rodney's feet. Sheppard sat against the back wall of the cave and dug through the backpack until he found one of the bottles of water.
"Good thing you packed enough food to last four people all day," Rodney said as John finished with the water and found another energy bar. "There's a chance we won't starve to death before we get out of here."
"Speaking of getting out of here, I found the waypost," John said, recapping the water bottle. "Good news is, it's not that far from here, just like you thought."
"And the bad news?"
"There are a lot of men watching it."
"But you have a plan, right? Some way to disarm all of them, and we can just walk right past them?"
Sheppard grimaced. "Something like that."
Rodney frowned. There was something Sheppard wasn't saying. "Out with it," he said and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the part you aren't telling me?"
John grabbed the backpack as he crawled toward the cave opening. "It would be easier for you to see for yourself."
Rodney followed John just under the lip of the hillside to a spot where they could lie down and see the valley without being seen. John handed him a pair of binoculars, and Rodney peered through the gloom at the valley below.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding," Rodney said when he got his first look at the warriors circling back-and-forth. He lowered the binoculars and scowled at Sheppard. "How are we supposed to get around all of those people?"
"Just watch," Sheppard replied. "I want to know if you see what I saw. If you do, then I think I have a plan. But we need to be quick. The sun's going to set in less than an hour. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend the night out here."
Rodney looked back at the setting sun, then down at the men weaving around in the valley below. Wait. Weaving … He bent forward and watched the movements more closely. It didn't take him long to see a pattern to the movement below, and he felt the blood drain from his face.
He can't be serious, Rodney thought. He glanced over at John and tried to stay calm. Sheppard merely looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You saw it too, right? There's a pattern to the way those guys move."
"No. No, no, no," Rodney exclaimed. "There has to be another way." He didn't realise how loud he was getting until John shushed him.
"If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears," John told him.
Rodney sighed and looked over the edge again. "This plan is insane. You know that, right? There is no way it will work."
"Still waiting to hear that better idea," John said, his tone getting more impatient.
Rodney handed back the binoculars and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but if we get killed, I want it on the record that I hated this idea."
"I'll be sure to haunt Elizabeth and let her know," John replied with a grim smile.
"Let's get this over with, I guess," Rodney said with a sigh and waited for John to lead the way.
Rodney slid more than once on the way down the hillside. The cast on his hand may have protected him from some of the larger rocks, but he felt grit sliding down inside the padding of the cast and irritating his skin.
"Lovely," he muttered under his breath as he tried to dig the sand out of the cast.
They finally reached the valley floor fifteen meters from the front line of warriors. Rodney watched the men in front of them as he and John closed the distance and tried to convince himself Sheppard's plan would work, and it wasn't going to get them both killed in the next two minutes.
The idea was a simple one. There were gaps among the warriors as they moved. Even though they looked like they were moving randomly, the men followed a pattern that was easy to anticipate once Rodney and John found it. Sheppard's plan was to time their movements to use those gaps where no one was looking and make their way across the valley floor to the waypost.
The gaps weren't large enough for them to step together, so the puzzle was made even more difficult as they had to time, not one set of gaps but two. Once they started, Rodney found it was easier to time his steps to music. He matched his pace to one of Chopin's Nocturnes and tried not to think about what the swords would do to him if he were seen.
By Rodney's estimate, they were maybe a third of the way through the horde, and he had started to believe Sheppard's crazy plan would actually work, when the warriors surrounding them suddenly froze. Rodney and John stopped as well, and Rodney glanced over at Sheppard with a puzzled expression.
John shrugged and shook his head as he studied the closest warrior.
Rodney decided to try and ease his way closer to John and had started to move when the warriors stomped a heavy one-two beat and then started pacing again at a faster tempo and with different steps. Rodney froze again as he tried to sort out where to step next and felt a feather-light touch across the back of his leg. He ignored the nearest warriors and looked around for Sheppard but couldn't find him in the sea of warriors circling him.
Worry about yourself, Rodney admonished himself and felt another odd brush, this time against the cast on his hand.
He glanced to his right and saw the blade of a sword flash as the warrior holding it stepped back. He swallowed, looked at his hand, and saw the blade had scored the cast. Rodney remembered the light brush against his leg and glanced down to see a thin stripe of blood where his trouser leg had been sliced.
A gap opened in front of him, and Rodney shuffled forward, watching the swords in the warrior's hands as he tried to find the new pattern. Now that he was standing in the middle of the horde, it was harder to figure out the new sequence of steps. Rodney felt another brush along his arm and saw a warrior's sword return to its ready position in front of him.
He stepped into his next gap and caught a glimpse of Sheppard not too far away from him. He spotted a few red marks on Sheppard's arms and realised the swords had to be incredibly sharp to slice such fine lines that he didn't feel the injuries.
Sheppard disappeared into the swirl of robed bodies again, and Rodney concentrated on the movement around him. He found the next few gaps without feeling any more cuts, and the music in his head changed to Mozart.
Rodney wasn't as surprised the next time the warriors stopped, made their one-two cadence stomp, and started off again, this time even faster. The warrior's step pattern changed a third time, and Rodney shifted and squirmed a few times, receiving a few more cuts, he was sure, as his mental music changed to a Schubert piano sonata.
He was so focused on finding gaps and not getting sliced by the swords, he didn't notice the sun setting behind them until it became even more difficult to see where he was going. Luckily, they were nearly through the mass of warriors, and after a few last hops and skips, Sheppard grabbed his hand and pulled him to the open area in front of the waypost.
"How badly did they get you?" John asked.
Rodney glanced down at his arms and legs and found several cuts. Thankfully none of them bled too badly, although they were starting to sting. "Nothing that needs stitches," he replied. "You?"
"They got me a few times." John held up an arm, and Rodney saw the blood dripping from one of the cuts. "A couple might be worse than the others, but, yeah, nothing too bad."
Rodney pulled the tiny flashlight from his vest pocket and pointed it low to the ground but still high enough to see Sheppard. "The backpack took a beating," he said and stuck his finger in one of the long slashes. "Better it than you."
John took off the backpack and examined where it had been sliced multiple times. "Lucky for us, the expedition requisitioned slash-proof packs, or most of our supplies would be scattered across the valley floor." He pulled the pack back on, nodded at the flashlight, and then back at the warriors. "They must not care once you're across their dance floor."
It was now dark enough it was hard to see any of the warriors, though Rodney still heard their stamping gait as their pattern and cadence changed every few minutes. "Okay, we got past the horde, now what?" he asked and flashed the light up at the waypost.
"I am impressed," The Overseer said as he appeared from behind the pole. "Not only with how quickly you found the waypost, but I had expected a, let us say, more straightforward and bloody approach to the Trial of the Blades. You have done well. Not many acolytes can complete the trial with no bloodshed."
Rodney pointed to Sheppard's bloody arm. "Really?" he asked sarcastically.
"You did not injure any of the warriors," The Overseer replied with a serene expression. "Injuries to the acolytes themselves are to be expected during the trials," he continued, seemingly unperturbed at the cuts on Rodney's arms and legs. "One or the other of you must be proficient in the healing arts, certainly. The injuries are a minor inconvenience."
Rodney stared at The Overseer for a moment as pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
You seem to lack most of the training required.
You are not like the usual candidates.
Rodney turned to John and pulled him a few steps away. "We have a problem," he said in a low hiss.
"Only one?" John replied.
"I'm serious," Rodney said a little louder and glanced at The Overseer. "That thing," he pointed at The Overseer still standing near the waypost, "thinks we really are Ancients. Not their descendants, but actual Ancients. Do you have any idea how screwed we are?"
John looked back out at the valley and the warriors still moving back and forth. "I have a good idea," he said.
"Not good enough," Rodney argued. "The Overseer thinks we can do all sorts of fun things … like heal ourselves if needed." Rodney swallowed. If John hadn't figured out a way to minimise their contact with those swords, they would have been cut to ribbons. "These trials could well kill us both before they're over."
"You have completed this trial within the time limit," The Overseer announced. "The second trial awaits."
Before Rodney could think of anything to say, a white light shot out of the waypost, and the desert disappeared.
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
"Lieutenant Ford?" Markham called over the radio. "I think I see the clearing you're in, sir."
Ford looked up and saw a jumper skim the tops of the trees and make a slow circle of the clearing. He waved up at the jumper and tapped his radio. "Anywhere close by you can land, Sergeant?"
"Yes, sir. It looks like there's a large open area only a half-mile or so away from you."
"We'll be waiting."
"Any sign of them yet, sir?" Markham asked as the jumper made a smooth turn and disappeared behind the tree line.
Ford looked at the last of the Athosians coming back into the clearing, then at the sun almost at the horizon. "Nothing yet," he said and tried to keep the worry out of his voice. He was the ranking officer now. He had to remain calm and direct the search, and what he hoped was still a rescue.
"Understood, sir," Markham replied, his tone somber. "We'll be there shortly. Markham out."
Thirty minutes later, Ford heard bodies crashing through the woods. Corporal Davis and Sergeant Markham entered the clearing with Doctor Zelenka following a few steps behind them.
"Where's the rest of your team, Sergeant?" Ford asked and watched as Doctor Zelenka made his way over to the waypost. He gave Teyla a tiny wave as he set down his backpack and pulled out a tablet computer.
"They'll be here shortly, sir," Markham said, and Ford wondered what the guilty expression on Markham's face was all about.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Someone tell me why Elizabeth even lets the pair of them leave the city," Ford heard coming from the forest and glanced at Markham for an explanation.
"He insisted, sir," Markham said in response to the look. "Needless to say, Doctor Beckett is not pleased with Major Sheppard or Doctor McKay at the moment."
Doctor Beckett entered the clearing, a large backpack strapped to his shoulders, and glared at Ford.
"And you, laddie, why in the world did you think it would be a good idea to let those two go off on their own?"
Ford was taken entirely off guard by Beckett's outburst and stood in stunned silence as Markham and the rest of his team made a hasty retreat over to Halling and the gathered Athosians. Ford was still trying to figure out how to respond to Beckett's question when Teyla came to his rescue.
"Doctor Beckett," she greeted. "We were not expecting you to come with Sergeant Markham."
Beckett huffed out a breath, and Ford saw he was trying to get his temper under control. "Yes, well, knowing those two, it's a reasonable assumption that when we do find them, they won't be in the best of health. Better to be here where I can start treating them right away."
Teyla reached out a hand and placed it on Beckett's arm. "We are worried about them as well."
Beckett ducked his head. "Sorry, lad," he said to Ford. "I didn't mean to take your head off."
"No problem, Doc," Ford said with an easy smile.
"Lieutenant?" Zelenka called from where he stood near the waypost.
Ford walked over to Zelenka, studying a computer screen. "You said Rodney was tracking an energy signature, yes?" he asked, squinting up at the pole with a frown.
"That's what he said," Ford replied. "But it wasn't a normal reading. He said it was intermittent."
"Yes, yes, I would agree," Zelenka said and tapped the computer screen. "I am picking up the same thing. I can see why Rodney would find it so interesting." He looked back up at the pole. "But there is nothing here that would explain why they have disappeared. The energy reading is barely registering."
Ford looked at the computer in Zelenka's hands as he talked and realised the device looked familiar. "Hey, isn't that McKay's special computer?" he asked and smiled as Zelenka gave him a guilty look.
"Yes, it is. Major Sheppard convinced me it needed several updates to be done today, and I had it in my lab. Maybe a good thing as I could not find my computer when Elizabeth called me to come on this mission. Rodney's hybrid machine is much better suited for this kind of work anyway."
Ford grinned despite the seriousness of the situation. "About your computer, Doc," he said and waited for Zelenka to look at him. "I think it's back at our camp. Doctor McKay said something about borrowing it."
Ford laughed as Zelenka started muttering to himself and went back to studying the information on the computer screen as he slowly walked around the pole.
"So is this what's causing all the fuss, then?" Beckett asked and stopped next to Ford.
"Matka Boží!" Zelenka exclaimed as a yellow beam of light shot out of the pole and surrounded Beckett.
"Wait!" Teyla cried as Ford raised his P-90, intent on shooting at the stone sending out the beam. "We do not know what that will do to Doctor Beckett."
Ford held his aim and glanced over at Beckett standing ramrod straight with his arms held stiff at his sides, and his eyes squeezed shut. Ford shook his head and glanced at Teyla. "We need to do something before that thing does to him what it did to Sheppard and Doctor McKay."
The light left Beckett and quickly moved over Teyla, Zelenka, and himself, before returning to Beckett.
Ford's finger tightened on the trigger, and he was ready to fire, damn the consequences, when the yellow beam shut off as quickly as it appeared. Beckett bent over with his hands on his knees and took several deep breaths.
"Doctor Beckett, are you all right?" Teyla asked as she stood beside him.
Beckett straightened and took several careful steps back from the pole. "Aye, lass. I'm fine," he replied and gave her a shaky smile.
"The energy readings were off the scale," Zelenka said, still standing near the pole. "If the object threw out readings like this when Rodney was scanning, I can see why he was excited. This much power could only come from a fully charged ZPM."
Ford stood with his P-90 still aimed roughly at the pole. "What did the beam do to us, Doc?"
"I don't think it did much of anything," Beckett replied. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was some sort of scanning beam. The diagnostic hood in the infirmary is similar."
"So, is that what happened to Sheppard and McKay?" Ford asked. "This," he waved a hand at the pole, "thing scanned them? Then what?" He glanced from Beckett to Zelenka, expecting one of them to give him an answer the same way Doctor McKay always seemed to know what was going on when Sheppard asked a question.
"I cannot say, Lieutenant," Zelenka replied slowly. "There is a tremendous amount of power contained near this device." He walked around the pole again.
"Teyla thought they might have been transported somewhere," Ford suggested.
Zelenka touched the computer screen a few times, and Ford watched as his gaze raced back-and-forth over the screen. "It is possible," he finally said. "The energy spike the diagnostics recorded when Doctor Beckett was … scanned? first would be enough to power one of the transporters in Atlantis several times over."
"So why didn't it do the same thing to me as it did to them?" Beckett asked. "Not that I'm complaining, mind."
Zelenka shook his head. "I am not sure," he admitted. "You have the ATA gene. There must be a secondary component required for the transporter, if that is what the pole truly does, to function."
Ford had heard enough. "Doc, you and Markham stay well clear of this area from now on," he ordered and waited for Markham to nod his acknowledgement. "We got lucky once. Let's not take any more chances."
"Agreed," Beckett said. He moved back to the edge of the clearing and started unpacking medical supplies from his pack.
"Doctor Beckett never touched the waypost," Teyla said in a low voice to Ford.
"Yeah, I noticed that, too," Ford replied and glared at the pole as if he could intimidate it into giving up their missing people. "Sheppard and McKay never stood a chance."
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
The white light dissipated, and John found himself in yet another white room. There were two big differences, however. One, he and Rodney were conscious and upright, unlike the last time. Two, this room had a console near one wall and a sort of mosaic design of concentric circles about six feet in diameter, set in the floor in the center of the room.
"This can't be good," Rodney said as he looked around. "I assume you've noticed there's no way out of this room?"
"Yeah, I caught that," John said as they started a careful circuit of the room.
"You'd think whoever set up these trials would be smart enough to invent a chair," Rodney said a few minutes later.
He sank to the floor near the console and went through his vest pockets. He pulled two large antiseptic wipes out of one of the pockets and looked over at John. "Here," he said, holding out one of the wipes.
John took the offered wipe, set the backpack on the floor, and sat next to Rodney. The antiseptic in the wipe burned as he cleaned the cuts on his arms, and John heard Rodney hiss a few times as his own clean-up efforts found a particularly nasty cut.
"This is the last time we plan one of your so-called field trips," Rodney groused as he swiped at a cut on his arm just behind the cast. "They're worse than missions for trying to get me killed. First a cave-in and now the obstacle course from hell."
John smiled, and Rodney glowered at him.
"I'm not kidding," Rodney told him. He dropped the wipe and examined the cuts along his arms.
Most of John's cuts had stopped bleeding, but a long slice along his forearm still bled, and John pressed the wipe against the deep cut to try and stop the bleeding.
"You need to put something on that," Rodney said, pointing at John's arm. He patted the pockets of his vest and held up a roll of gauze. "Hold out your arm."
"I can do it myself," John told him and tried to take the roll.
"Oh, just give me your arm," Rodney replied with an impatient scowl. "It'll be easier for someone with two hands."
John sighed and held out his arm. "More like a hand and a half."
"Ha-ha," Rodney retorted as he found a sterile pad for the cut in a vest pocket and started winding the gauze around John's forearm.
"I did take a first aid course, but no, Mister Stoic here, can't let anyone help," Rodney muttered to himself as he worked. "Thinks he can't accept anything from anyone."
"Rodney, I can hear you, you know," John said and smiled despite himself.
"There," Rodney replied as he tied off the gauze and looked at John with a silly smirk. "I won't tell anyone you had to have help."
"Thanks for …" John said and nodded at his arm.
"You're welcome." Rodney put away the remaining gauze, then closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall.
"You doing okay?" John asked after a few moments.
Rodney shrugged and opened his eyes. "I don't suppose we can go home now?"
John shook his head. "Probably not."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say," Rodney replied. He opened a vest pocket, pulled out a control crystal, and examined it.
John watched as Rodney turned the crystal over in his hand a few times before he remembered McKay tucking a crystal in his pocket when he was trying to force open the door.
"Any particular reason you're pilfering parts from this place?" John asked with a nod at the crystal.
Rodney shrugged. "Call it a habit. Some people have a jar of screws in case they ever need just the right one." He held up the crystal. "I'm getting in the habit of saving any spare parts I come across. Never know when something might come in handy."
John nodded. "I can understand that, I guess. So what does that one do?"
"Not sure," Rodney replied. He glanced over at the backpack. "I could probably tell you if I had my computer with me. I don't suppose …" He glanced at Sheppard and jerked his chin toward the pack.
"Sorry. We were supposed to be on a nature hike, remember? Didn't see the point in lugging your computer along, too."
Rodney flipped the crystal over a few more times then put it back in his pocket. "It's hard to say what it's for," he said. He braced his hand against the wall and pushed himself to his feet. "It looks like one of the small crystals used in the relay systems in Atlantis, but without a computer to run the diagnostics, I can't be sure." He wandered over to the console and studied the various tiles. John noticed he was careful not to touch anything.
John stood and wandered the rest of the room, looking for a hidden door or a note saying what they were supposed to do next. Maybe it was just a room, he thought, a place where they could catch their breath for a moment. No, he remembered. The Overseer had said this was supposed to be the next test.
He shook his head as he felt along the wall for any bumps or ridges that might hide an access panel. He didn't find anything that could be a panel and backed into the center of the room. At this rate, the only challenge they would have is staving off the boredom, he thought, stepping into the circle in the center of the room.
As soon as he was in the middle of the mosaic, a beam of blue light shot down from the ceiling, stopping at the edge of the largest circle.
"Sheppard!" Rodney exclaimed. He rounded the console and rushed to the edge of the beam. "Are you all right?" he asked, and John saw the panic in his eyes.
"Yeah, Rodney, I'm fine. What did you touch?" he asked with a glare at McKay.
"I didn't touch anything," Rodney retorted. "I'm not a complete idiot."
John nodded. He knew that, but it was easier to berate McKay than admit he was worried about what would happen now that he was confined. He was the soldier. It was his job to protect McKay, not the other way around.
"In that case, go touch something now and turn this beam off," John ordered. "Or maybe I could try pushing through it." John raised his hand.
"Don't!" Rodney cried. "We don't know if this is anything other than a containment field. Don't touch it."
John sighed but dropped his hand.
Rodney watched him for a few seconds, then searched through his pockets until he found a pad of paper and the stub of a pencil.
"What are you doing?" John asked as Rodney stuffed the paper back in his pocket and held up the pencil.
"Testing a hypothesis," Rodney replied. He stepped up to the beam and glanced at John. "Stand back a little. Umm. Just in case."
John took a couple of steps back and signalled Rodney he was ready.
Rodney gripped the pencil gingerly between two fingers and carefully held the tip to the blue beam of light. As soon as the pencil touched the beam, it disintegrated.
Rodney let out a yelp and stuffed his fingers under his arm. "Don't." Rodney looked at him, and John noted the panic had been replaced with fear. "Don't touch the beam," he whispered and looked at the tips of his now reddened fingers.
"Good advice," John replied and forced himself to remain calm. "How about you see what you can do about getting it shut off."
"Yes, umm, right," Rodney muttered and made his way back to the console.
Rodney bent over the tiles again, muttering to himself, and John tried to be patient. Rodney would figure it out, he told himself. He always did. If McKay had enough time, John was sure Rodney could figure out just about anything.
No sooner had he finished the thought than the blue beam shrank, and not just a little.
John looked at the floor and saw the containment beam had moved into the next ring in the pattern. He guessed about ten inches from where it started. John did some quick math in his head and came to a very bad answer.
"Rodney," John called, forcing his voice to remain calm. "You might want to hurry up."
"I'm going as fast as I can," Rodney snapped and looked up from the console. "What's the matter? Are you bored already?"
John grimaced. He needed Rodney working, not panicking, but McKay needed to know about the apparent time limit. "Not bored, but my room just got smaller."
"What?" Rodney exclaimed and hurried back to the circle. "Oh, this is not good. Really, really not good." He looked up at John. "Stay as close to the middle as you can," he ordered and ran back to the console. "I'll get you out. I will," he promised and reached out for one of the tiles. As soon as he touched it, John saw a small burst of electricity arc from the tile to Rodney's hand.
"Ow! That hurt!" Rodney yelped. He looked at his fingers for a moment, then reached out for the tile again. Once again, as soon as he touched it, the tile gave him a shock.
The console was booby-trapped, John realised, and with one look at Rodney, he knew McKay had reached the same conclusion.
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
After the two shocks, Rodney was careful to keep his hands away from the console as he studied the tiles. "The console obviously controlled the field somehow," he muttered and glanced at John turning in a slow circle within the confines of the beam. "Otherwise, there was no point in it being in the room."
Rodney looked up from the console with a scowl. "Of course," he exclaimed.
"Rodney?" John called from the middle of the room.
"Nothing," Rodney replied. He waved his casted hand in Sheppard's direction and went back to his study of the console.
Now the cryptic comment from The Overseer about this being their next test made sense, he realised and glared at the tiles. To free Sheppard, he would need to electrocute himself. Great. Rodney rubbed a hand over his forehead. The more he learned about the Ancients, the more he wondered why they were trying so hard to find them.
He leant forward and took a closer look at the tiles, trying to decipher their function. There were twelve tiles in the console's center, in two rows of six tiles each above and below a small screen. Two smaller tiles sat off to each side of the bottom row. Strangely, none of the markings on the tiles resembled those on the consoles in the gate room in Atlantis.
"A combination lock? Maybe?" Rodney wondered.
He had seen something similar when he worked at Area 51. Enter the correct combination, and a door opened, or an access panel was revealed. "So the right code shuts off the beam." He stared at the tiles. "Which means you have to touch the tiles." Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lovely."
"How's it going over there?" John asked, breaking Rodney's concentration.
"I, umm, I think I know what to do." Rodney glanced at Sheppard and sucked in a breath. "Here goes nothing," he muttered.
He clenched his hands, grimacing at the idea of getting another shock, then reached out and hesitantly touched the tile at the top left. He felt the jolt of electricity in his fingers and let go of the tile, flapping his casted hand as the shock numbed his fingers.
"Rodney!" John yelled from the middle of the room. "What the hell are you doing?"
"What?" he snapped back. "I have to know what the tiles do in order to figure out how to turn off the beam." Rodney stared at the console and nodded when a line of Ancient text appeared on the tiny console screen.
John glared at him from behind the containment field, and Rodney stared back. "You're going to get hurt if you keep touching the console," John pointed out.
Rodney huffed out a sigh. "And you're going to get dead if I don't," he replied. He remembered John's words from the hillside as they watched the warriors pace below them. "I'm all ears if you have a better idea."
"You could -"
"You turning into a pile of ash is not a better idea," Rodney said with a scowl. "So don't even say it."
"And you electrocuting yourself is somehow better?" John replied angrily.
Rodney heard the underlying worry in John's tone and sighed. "The voltage isn't that strong," he said and hoped he sounded convincing. "It doesn't hurt that much."
"Liar. Besides, it is strong enough to cause burns," John said and pointed at Rodney's hand.
Rodney glanced at the tips of his fingers poking out of the cast. He noticed the redness hadn't gone away, and the skin was tender to the touch. Nothing he could do about it, he reminded himself. He didn't have any gloves, and John was running out of time.
"Burns heal a lot better than disintegration," Rodney retorted and went back to studying the console. "Now shut up so I can get on with saving your life," he added with a glance at Sheppard.
As he watched, the beam surrounding Sheppard shrank again, and Rodney stopped the mental clock he'd had running in his head. Two-meter diameter, twenty-five centimeters every three minutes. Rodney finished the calculations and swallowed. He had about nine minutes before the space left for John to stand in was reduced to something too small for him to avoid touching the beam any longer.
The line of Ancient code was still on the screen. Rodney squinted at it as he tried to read the tiny symbols and smiled to himself when he deciphered enough of the text to realise it wasn't so much a code as a piece to a puzzle.
"Yes. I was right," Rodney said to John. "The console controls the beam. I just have to find the right code to shut it down."
He looked down at his fingers and frowned when he noticed his fingers were still red. He gave John a sideways glance and lowered his hand. He'd just switch back and forth on which hand he used to test the tiles, he decided. Hopefully, that would lessen the damage from the electrical burns.
"Isn't that always the way?" The Overseer said sagely as he appeared at Rodney's side. "You turn your back for just a moment, and he ends up in trouble."
"Working," Rodney muttered, not looking up from the screen. "Shut up."
From the corner of his eye, Rodney saw The Overseer shake his head. He knew the goal was to distract him, make him waste time, and he wasn't going to fall for it. He steeled himself and touched the lower-left tile with his left hand. He winced as he felt the electricity burn his skin, and he heard John hiss in sympathy from the center of the room. Rodney ignored both the pain in his fingers and the worry coming from the middle of the room as he focused on the next line of text that appeared on the screen.
He had expected the tile to give him the next piece of the puzzle, but the line of text was too short. It seemed to be a non-sequitur statement more than anything. Rodney stared at the screen for a moment, and his mouth fell open as he realised it was an answer to a question.
"Jeopardy?" he muttered and glanced at The Overseer. Had The Overseer pulled the fact that he liked a television quiz show from his head the same way he'd found Afghanistan in Sheppard's memories?
Rodney studied the tiles again. Since he knew the substance of the puzzle came from his own mind, how did that help him solve it? Maybe the top row selected a question, and the bottom row selected the answer? he hypothesised.
But how was he supposed to know which answer tile went with which question? Maybe it wasn't Jeopardy, after all, he thought, but instead the Memory game he used to play with Jeannie when she was small. All he had to do was match each question to the correct answer, and once he had all of them matched up, the beam would shut down, and John would be free.
Which meant he had to know all of the questions and all of the answers.
Which meant this was really going to hurt, he realised.
Rodney decided the fastest way was to try one question followed by one answer. If he got lucky, he'd get at least one match reasonably quickly, which would make the odds for finding the rest of the correct pairs even better.
The first line of text had disappeared, so Rodney took a deep breath and touched the upper left tile again with his right hand. This time the shock was stronger, but he tried to hide how much it hurt as he read the screen and translated the Ancient text in his head. He read through the text again, but the answer he remembered didn't match the question.
Rodney squeezed his eyes shut, touched the second tile on the bottom row left-handed, and couldn't contain the hiss of pain as another wrong answer flashed on the screen.
"You are persistent," The Overseer said. "Is he worth all of this effort and pain?"
"Go away," Rodney growled as he read the screen.
"Ahh, I see now," The Overseer murmured.
Rodney looked up and found The Overseer studying him.
"I have not seen such loyalty for a very long time," The Overseer said. "You are willing to risk such pain for him. He is willing to risk death to save you." The Overseer took a step back and nodded.
Rodney had no time to parse cryptic comments about sacrifice at the moment. "Didn't I tell you to go away?" he snapped.
"As you wish," The Overseer replied. "I'd work faster if I were you. Your companion doesn't have much time left."
The Overseer disappeared, and Rodney saw the blue beam of light shrink again.
Sheppard stood in the center of the beam, staring first at the beam and then Rodney.
Rodney glanced at the floor and realised he had one, maybe two more cycles before the space left by the beam grew too small for John to avoid touching the beam.
"I've almost got this," Rodney said. He tried to give Sheppard a reassuring smile, then went back to studying the console.
He ran a finger over the twelve tiles, being careful not to touch any of them. It wasn't inconceivable that the two combinations he'd tried didn't match, he told himself. Logic dictated he try a third question tile as it had a good chance of matching one of the two answers he already knew.
"Rodney, don't!" John pleaded from his prison in the middle of the room.
Rodney closed his eyes and touched the third tile right-handed. The resulting shock was too much, and he let out a whimpered cry as he released the tile and looked at his hand. His fingers were red from the tips to at least the edge of the cast, and the tips were starting to blister. He cradled his arm close to his chest and tried to read the screen through the tears in his eyes. He nearly slammed a fist into the console when the question didn't match either of the known answers.
"Damn it, Rodney, stop," John yelled.
Rodney shook his head and touched the third answer tile. The pain wasn't as bad this time, and he stared dumbly at the burns on his left hand, trying to understand why. He could see his fingers and part of his palm were red, he even saw a few more blisters, but it took several long seconds to realise the lack of pain was probably bad.
Even before he read the new text on the screen, he knew the answer wouldn't match any of the three questions. Something was wrong. He was missing something. He tried to concentrate on the tiles again and see anything he'd missed the first time, but his hands ached, and he found it harder to focus.
"Rodney," John said in a low voice. "You have to stop. It's not going to matter much longer anyway."
Rodney heard the tone much more than the words and looked up. It took a few seconds for him to process that the beam was only a few centimeters from John's shoulders, the next time it shrank, Sheppard would be vaporised just like the pencil.
He shook his head and studied the console again. The answer was right in front of him. He knew it. He just had to focus.
Find the answer.
Save John.
Simple.
"Simple," Rodney muttered, staring into space.
The solution to getting past the warriors had been deceptively simple. All they'd had to do was ignore the obvious answer of attacking the warriors and walk around them instead.
Rodney stared down at the tiles, all of the tiles this time. Two rows of six tiles surrounding a screen. Two other tiles an arms width apart on each side of the stacked tiles. Could it be that simple? he wondered. He had one chance left, try another question and answer or try the less obvious.
Rodney stretched out a hand over each tile and looked John in the eye.
"I think I've got it," he said and pushed the two small tiles at the same time.