Rodney stopped mid-stride in the hallway which caused Teyla and Ronon, hard on his heels, to bump into him. They were skulking through corridors in the outskirts of the outpost, trying to avoid the Monarkians. Like Atlantis, the lumpy, decorative bronze corridors allowed for many nooks and crannies to duck into when the occasional local did happen to pass and they'd remained unseen, so far.

"He is turning around?" Teyla demanded, doing that thing where she made sure everyone was on the same page, especially when it involved the safety of one of her teammates.

"He'd only made it about a half kilometer. He'll have to backtrack that and make his way to the North exit."

"You said the North path wasn't safe," Ronon stated. The tone was mild but his posture was accusatory and he kept looking over Rodney's shoulder instead of at him, which was getting annoying.

"I also said he should hurry so that we had time to work through hiccups that came up. He's way off pace. It's like he's just on a Sunday stroll down there." He was looking at his scanner again as he spoke. John's dot was moving North…slowly.

"I fear he will not make the exit in time. Can we get to the North exit in time to go in after John?"

"We'll have to go through a section of the outpost that's more populated, we'll have a harder time staying out of sight, but we should definitely reach it before John. We have the luxury of a direct route. And I think we could crawl faster than he's walking." The last came out as a growl as he glared again at his scanner screen.

"Then let us do so." Teyla's command left no room for argument, so Rodney was surprised when Ronon barked out a harsh, "Wait." And then, he was sprinting down the hall. Dumbstruck, Rodney could only watch as Ronon skidded to a halt several yards away in front of one of those dark crannies, gun pointed, posture hostile.

A squeak of fear preceded Ronon snatching into the crevice and pulling out a Monarkian by his overly-starched collar. Teyla and Rodney jogged over to join Ronon and his captive, who had his hands up and was hunched over in terror. The man was old, grey-haired but healthy looking, as were all of the Monarkians.

"I am Mieka. I am Mieka. I wish no harm to you."

"They why have you been following us?" Ronon growled. The man answered at once, as if it would never occur to him to disobey a command.

"You are seeking Colonel Sheppard. I overheard you talking when you escaped Ashran's security pigs. I meant only to follow you until you found him so I could…thank him."

Rodney hadn't heard any of the servant class – for that is what Mieka's uniform and deference marked him as – speak so harshly of the ruling class. Ronon let go of the man's collar and stepped back, his expression calculating. "Thank him for what?"

"He… I… It was because of me that the Colonel angered Ashran and the other so-called Lanteans. He was showing me how to use the control panel that monitors the solar system around our outpost and revealed that it only takes a Lantean's touch to initialize most of the outpost's controls. Anyone can work the technology once it is initialized."

"Why did that piss them off?" Ronon asked, as perplexed as Rodney felt and Teyla looked.

"We have been told for generations that only Lanteans can control the vast technology of our home. The Colonel, unwittingly I believe, exposed an untruth that has enslaved three-quarters of my people for generations."

"That would piss off the local authorities," Rodney agreed with a sigh.

"Ashran's authority is built on a lie," Mieka's voice was bitter, but he twisted his hands together as he added, "but I feel shame that the Colonel was attacked because of me. I only wished to make sure he was recovered and to express my regret and thanks. Have you discovered where the disposal device sent him?"

"Yes. We know where he is, but he is still in danger and this conversation is slowing us down." Rodney decided he was done with the locals, hostile or friendly. He raised his scanner, planning to move on, but Mieka wrung his hands again and looked stricken.

"What danger does he face? Can I help? I have lived in the outpost my whole life."

Ronon chuffed and Teyla looked similarly eager to move on. Rodney turned away from the native, pointing his scanner in the direction of Sheppard's North exit. John was still moving slowly, too slowly. If only they could tell him to just sit tight and wait for them. Wait! Maybe they could.

Rodney whirled around and grabbed a startled Mieka by the shoulders. "Do you know where the disposal system control consoles are located?"

"I… am not familiar with that function of the outpost. We do not have any techmasters assigned to waste control. It just seems to work."

"The systems are on automatic. The consoles have not been initialized. They would likely be with other systems that handle routine functions like water purification, environmental controls, HVAC, that sort of thing. At least that's how they're organized on…our outpost."

Mieka looked like he was thinking hard as Rodney explained. A sudden flash of eagerness crossed the wrinkled face. "My grandson is assigned to a techmaster who monitors the outpost's water supplies. He is regularly sent to the purification tanks to perform maintenance as they require constant manual adjusting."

"Tell me about it," Rodney muttered. Half of his maintenance requests came from problems with water supply on Atlantis. Too hot, too cold, too salty, too purple…

"Noalm may know where this console is you speak of," Mieka finished.

"Can you take me directly to the lab or facility where they work?"

Mieka nodded.

"OK." Rodney blew out a breath turned to Teyla for confirmation. "I'd like to try to tackle the problem at the source. If I can find and initialize the console and simply turn off the irradiation cycle, then Sheppard can take all the time he wants finding the exit, or we can go in and get him. It seems worth the risk."

"Agreed," Teyla said. "Ronon and I will continue to the exit and enter the tunnels if we need to."

"I'll stay in touch but don't wait. I may not find the right console, or the Monarkians may not let me near it. Getting Sheppard out in the next 45 minutes is still our best option."

Ronon answered by jerking his head in the affirmative then jogging away down the hall.

"Wait! Does he even know where to go?" Rodney asked Teyla who was about to join him.

"We saw the map on the last console. And you described its location. We will find it."

"Oh. Ok. Good luck."

And then Teyla was gone. Rodney watched them for a moment, then turned to Mieka. "Well? Let's move. Take me to where your grandson works."

Mieka bowed deferentially and led Rodney down another corridor. This time when he looked at the scanner, he was watching for three dots. Ironically, they almost merged at one point as Sheppard trudged many meters below the corridor that Teyla and Ronon ran along.

"Hang in there Sheppard," he thought as he followed Mieka around yet another bend. "One way or another, we're coming to help."

John walked. The endless tunnel flowed under his feet like he was on a treadmill – only the ground a few feet ahead of him changed. He had no sense of how far or fast he was walking. It was like being in space, he decided, almost giggling at the thought. Except space was cold and he felt feverish. Or…maybe space was hot and he felt cold. He shivered, his teeth rattling a little, and he wished for his jacket. He'd only been wearing his vest and t-shirt when he was sent down here.

He had a vague sense that he wasn't quite thinking straight. But when he explored the matter, he felt completely aware of himself. He knew where he was going and why. It was just so damn dark and he was so damn uncomfortable. His side ached, his shoulder throbbed. He found himself walking in a funny kind of lurching gait that favored his right side.

There were no more glowing spots on the walls, but the skritching of alien bug feet was almost constant. It made his skin crawl and every now and then he'd stop, shine the light at the ceiling to try to catch a glimpse of the critters, but there was always nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even glowing antenae. He couldn't shake the memory of another alien bug attaching itself around his neck and digging in, no matter how hard he pulled. He could almost feel the thing sucking life from him as he screamed and screamed.

"Sheppard!"

Rodney's shout pulled him from horrid daydreaming and he realized that his pulse was pounding and he was panting. His face was cold from drying sweat.

"I'm here, I'm here," he panted, desperate for air but fighting not to breathe too deeply.

"You have got to keep walking." Rodney's voice wasn't whining or nagging and the cold command in the tone was more frightening than a dozen McKay rants.

"I am. I'm walking." Which was true. Now.

"That's better. Teyla and Ronon are working their way to the exit. You have another two kilometers to go. But you need to go faster. You need to keep walking. Hey, did they teach you any marching songs or something in soldier school?"

John rolled his eyes (which hurt a little. He also had a hell of a headache.) "Marching song?"

"You know - Birdie, birdie in the sky - dropped some white wash in my eye - I don't complain and I don't cry - I'm just glad that cows can't fly. Ford taught me that one once when I wasn't walking fast enough for him. Or was it that time we saw those birds as big as cows? I can't remember."

John snorted with laughter, more at Rodney's deadpan delivery than at the words, which he'd heard a million times. "It's called a cadence."

"So, you know any cadences?"

"Of course."

"Tell me one."

"Rodney…"

"No, seriously. I want to hear one."

John walked several steps thinking about his training days and how very young he was then. It was so long ago, but the words came like he'd marched them yesterday:

"Irene, Irene, she's one of the best,
and every night I give er' the test,

the moon was high, the lights were dim,
and there she stood so slick and slim,

I rolled her over on her side,
and on her back I also tried,

I wound her up as quick as I could,
And when I got in er' I knew she was good,

Irene, Irene, she's sweet and true,
she's a Sixty-G PaveHawk in the Search and Rescue."

Rodney's chortle was genuine and John blushed, not having quite realized he was speaking the chant out loud. "That was good. And you're walking faster. Tell me another one."

John caught on, but the cadences did help. He found his feet walking in time to the rhythm, as they were meant to do, and concentrating on long-forgotten rhymes kept his mind off his aching side. Just as he was running out of cadences he could remember, Rodney butted in on John's monologue.

"Hang on Sheppard. Keep walking. You've got a little ways to go. Teyla and Ronon are waiting for you. I've got to concentrate here for a few minutes."

"Sure." Something was nagging at the back of John's mind. Something important about walking. Oh, right. Radioactive tunnels. "How long until the burst…radioactive blast thing…" he managed. Why was it he could remember the lyrics of a raunchy song from 20 years ago, but couldn't get the right word out?

"I'm working on that. You have twenty minutes and only a short way to go. Just keep walking."

"Twenty minutes?"

"KEEP WALKING!"

"Sheesh. I'm walking already."

But even in through the fog that was settling ever thicker over his mind and the cold ache that was settling into his body, he knew that he wasn't walking fast or far enough. Rodney's cajoling and bullying was taking on a desperate edge. What should have been a piece of cake was taking him too long. He couldn't seem to push his feet faster. He couldn't concentrate. A tickle of fear crept into his conscience. He wasn't going to make it.

Rodney cajoled and bullied and talked John through the next kilometer and a half of the tunnel while skulking along the hallways of the outpost thirty feet above him. Mieka guided him with a strange look now and then as he talked, but without question. At last, the old man began to wave his arms around, seeking Rodney's attention and reluctantly, he closed the channel.

"We are nearly there, but this corridor will be heavily populated at this time of day. It is a busy time for these techmasters."

"Can you bring your grandson here?"

Mieka bobbed his head, his eyes sparkling. "I will do so at once!" And in his eagerness, he was off around the corner before Rodney had really decided if that would be useful. He decided to check in with Teyla and Ronon.

"Teyla, I'm close to the control room. Have you made it to the tunnel exit?"

"We were just about to contact you. We have found the stairs that descend to the tunnels, but there is a security door blocking entrance to the tunnel itself. It either requires the ATA gene to access or there is another security protocol in place."

"I have c4," Ronon added, conveying both solution and method in those three words.

"Don't unless we have to!" Rodney hissed urgently. "We already know the tunnels are susceptible to collapse. It won't do Sheppard any good to open the door and bury the tunnel to it. Just…wait a few more minutes. I'll know more when I get my hands on the console. John can most likely open it from his side with the ATA gene."

He slapped the channel closed, feeling an even greater sense of panic. Just when Rodney was going to give up on the old man and march into the hallway, Monarkians be damned, Mieka rushed around the corner dragging a much younger man by the sleeve.

"Dr. McKay, this is my grandson Noalm."

Noalm had dark curly hair, was early twenties at best, and wore the just-almost-condescending smirk of youth humoring a relative.

"Good, good! Noalm, I'm looking for the control console for the waste disposal systems. We think it might be in the lab where you work. Are there any uninitialized consoles there or in the general area?"

The young man's face flashed surprise, then curiosity. "Uninitialized, no. But there are two that my technmaster claims are faulty. He has tried many times to gain knowledge from them, but though they come to life at his touch, they reveal no data."

"That could be anything," Rodney muttered to himself, but another tickle of worry fluttered in his chest. "How many people are in there right now?"

"Seven. Four techmasters and their servants. I am the eighth member of the team."

Rodney's heart sank even further. So much for just marching in the door. Ok, he'd have to take a page from Sheppard's book – create a distraction and lead the Monarkians away.

"You work for the water technmaster, right?" Noalm looked wary, but nodded. "Good, I need you to get him away from the console then key in a few commands exactly as I tell you."

Noalm's eyes went wide and he brought his hands up as if to ward off attack, "Touch the console? I cannot touch the console! I am un-lantean. I cannot command the technology of the Ancestors!"

"You can, and you will. Please Noalm," Rodney added when the young man's eyes went troubled. "Please, a man's life is at stake. My friend's life. Ask your grandfather."

"Dr. McKay is an honorable man as is Colonel Sheppard whose life is in danger because of me. We have been lied to by our own masters and so are forced into the service of strangers who speak truth. And if lofty politics are not a compelling argument for one so young, then please help simply because your Grandfather asks you. Because I owe a debt and need your help to repay it."

Mieka put a comforting hand on Noalm's shoulder who still looked terrified, but he nodded and lowered his hands. "What must I do?"

Rodney suppressed a sigh of relief, then felt a determined grin find his lips.

"You're going to make a lot of people think twice about pouring a glass of water."

John had heard the scratching of invisible bug feet for so long, it took him a moment to realize that the scratching that was coming from just ahead was different somehow. When the new sound was repeated, John froze, shining his light as far down the tunnel as it would reach. There was only a suggestion of motion – subtle reflections off god knew what – but something definitely was moving.

A jolt of adrenaline brought his heart to racing speed and he had to control his breath to avoid stabbing pains. Carefully, he twisted until he could unsnap the strap on his holster and draw the weapon with his left hand. It felt awkward, but he had trained with both hands and while his marksmanship wasn't quite as good with his left, he was a passable shot.

Step by step, he crept forward, his sidearm extended and the flashlight clenched in his immobilized right hand. For a long time, the flickers of movement and sounds stayed just outside of the light's range. John was almost feeling a little relieved that maybe the whatever-they-weres might just scurry on ahead for the rest of his walk.

He slowed down again, though, when a great hulking shadow loomed into view. Each step revealed more detail – it was shiny, it was domed like a great overturned metal salad bowl, it began to glow faintly after his light touched it, the first bioluminescent effect he'd seen since the cave-in. It also wasn't moving. At long last, he drew close enough to sweep his light over the whole…thing.

It was a shell. A monstrous beetle shell. The top of the dome rose to John's thighs. It appeared the creature that the shell had protected had been dead for some time. The glow came from moss that covered almost every inch of the hard shiny surface and John could see a hollow emptiness underneath one edge that curved off the slimy floor. The scritching, however, seemed to be coming from inside the hollow dome.

Pulling in a slow breath, then holding it, he tucked his toe under the raised edge of the shell and kicked it over. It was surprisingly heavy and he groaned when the unexpected effort pinched his sore side. It was also full of bugs. Dozens of the large cockroach things and baby dome-shelled beetles burst out and scattered in all directions.

John jumped back, startled and disgusted. Within seconds, however, there was no longer a trace of any of them and the large shell lay gently rocking on its back, empty. Suppressing a shudder, John edged around the shell and forced himself to keep moving. He had to keep moving. The incident had at least cleared his head a little and increased his urgency.

He pushed his pace until his lungs felt like he was inhaling broken glass. The light bounced ahead of him, but he was moving faster and he saw vast numbers of bugs scattering out of his way as he moved. They were all different sizes, from hand sized cockroaches to dome-beetles the size of his head. Even the larger ones moved exceptionally fast to avoid the touch of his light. Piles of discarded shells glowed eerily against the tunnel walls and John soon found himself kicking them aside, they were strewn so thickly along the tunnel floor.

"Rodney!" he called at last, near-panic rising as the evidence of large bug population continued to grow. "How far am I from the damn exit?!"

"You're… you're doing great, John, just keep walking."

"How far?"

"500 meters."

John stopped walking.

"How long?"

"Five minutes. John you can make it. Please, just keep walking."

But John didn't move. 500 meters in five minutes was nothing. A piece of cake. Even with broken ribs he had a shot at it. His light shivered as his hand trembled at the shadow that was looming out of the black nothingness ahead of him. He took a step backwards, and then another.

A huge dome beetle, almost as tall as John's hips scuttled forward, then stopped and clicked menacing pincer claws, then scuttled forward again.

"Rodney, I think it's going to take longer than 5 minutes to reach the exit."

"Why?!" There was a note of panic in Rodney's voice now, too.

"Because, first I have to get past the biggest freakin bug I've ever seen in my life."

"I'm sending Ronon and Teyla in to help."

"No! If I don't have time to make it out, they won't either. There's no point in getting all of us fried."

"John…"

"No, Rodney. That's an order. I'll let you know when I'm on the move again."

John took the silence that answered as acquiescence. He aimed his sidearm at the approaching monster and stifled a shudder.

"Let's see what you've got, big guy."

Rodney was still chuckling when he entered the control room after Noalm's sabotage had sent the whole pack of Monarkians pelting for the living quarters that were now spewing purple sludge-water into sinks, showers, and toilets. The young man had followed his techmaster dutifully to attend to the emergency, but he had thrown his Grandfather a small wry grin of satisfaction as he ran past their hiding place.

He was no longer smiling a moment later when he took in the state of the console he wanted. Not only was it faulty as the Monarkian techmasters had suspected – several keys were dark and the cable that connected it to the outpost's central node was missing entirely – but the few functions he could access were password protected.

He looked at his watch. Sheppard had ten minutes and was making steady, if slow, progress but it was going to be tight. Rodney needed to stop the irradiation cycle from running if John didn't make it and make sure the door would open if he did make it.

"Mieka, pull that cable from the other dark console and attach it in exactly the same way to this one," Rodney bellowed, not caring that Mieka wasn't a technician or answered to Rodney in any way. Mieka scuttled to obey, however, a look of wonder on his face. When the old man had completed that task, Rodney started barking instructions for how to test the connection while he concentrated on breaking the console's encryption.

"Rodney! How far am I from the damn exit?!"

Rodney looked at his hand scanner for the first time in several minutes and fought to keep the concern out of his voice. Ronon said not to badger him, but John sounded terrible. "You're… you're doing great, John, just keep walking."

"How far?"

"500 meters."

"How long?"

"Five minutes. John you can make it. Please, just keep walking."

Five minutes and Rodney was no closer to cracking the code than he'd been five minutes ago. Rodney's head spun with scenarios but there were too many variables to make any accurate predictions. Could John open the door from his side? Would c4 collapse the tunnel? John's reply broke his frantic spinning.

"Rodney, I think it's going to take longer than 5 minutes to reach the exit." John sounded resigned and more tired, more weak than Rodney had ever heard him sound.

"Why?!" There was a note of panic in Rodney's voice now, too.

"Because, first I have to get past the biggest freakin bug I've ever seen in my life."

Rodney sucked in a sharp breath of sympathetic terror. That was a variable that shifted some priorities. "I'm sending Ronon and Teyla in to help." Rodney would risk the damn C4. Nobody deserved to face the universe's biggest freakin bug alone.

"No! If I don't have time to make it out, they won't either. There's no point in getting all of us fried."

"John…" Rodney hated it when John was right about things like…that.

"No, Rodney. That's an order. I'll let you know when I'm on the move again."

Rodney couldn't answer. He just turned back to the console and redoubled his efforts to break the encryption preventing him from performing the simplest stupidest task. "Come on!" he roared as he switched to yet another algorithm. Mieka watched with deep concern etched in his creased face.

"You seek the key?" he asked at last.

"Key? What key? I'm trying to break the password that's preventing me from accessing the waste disposal control routines. If I can't get in, John is toast." He slammed his fists against the glowing crystals in frustration.

"I have seen it entered many times. May I?" Mieka asked hesitantly.

"You've seen…what?" Rodney finally gave the old servant his full attention.

"They key. Many consoles require a key before use. Techmasters must memorize many that have been learned with great difficulty over many generations."

"You know the password?" Rodney finally processed the man's words.

"I know many keys from long years of serving, but I cannot promise any will unlock this console."

"Do it. Try them all. Without my tablet and even with it, it would take too long to decrypt or guess."

Rodney stepped aside and Mieka took his place. He lifted wrinkled hands to the controls and hesitated, a look of fear on his face. But before Rodney could intervene, confidence replaced fear and the servant began to punch in long sequences of keys. One after another, almost as if by touch or muscle memory rather than any numeric memory.

One minute passed, then another and the man's keystrokes came slower. A flash on the screen hanging over their console brought Rodney's heart to full speed.

"That's it! You did it!"

He shoved Mieka aside and frantically began to call up and initialize the programs that controlled the waste systems and the tunnel irradiation protocols. "There!" he cried when he finally, finally found the subroutines that powered the tunnel's sterilization sequence. He pulled up the command line, read the logs. He read it again, checked his watch, then against all logic read it one more time. A cold numbness sank into his chest.

"Sheppard! Come in. Can you answer? Sheppard!" There was no answer, just static, which only intensified the knot in his gut. "Teyla, Ronon, I'm opening the door to the tunnel. You've got to get to Sheppard as soon as possible!"

Rodney slammed his hands into the console to unlock the tunnel doors. At least it had been worth coming here for that – the doors were secured from entry even by "lanteans".

"Of course," Teyla's voice was charged with concern. "But Rodney, when will the radiation cycle engage?"

"That's the problem." Rodney sank into a chair and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. "It already did."