CHAPTER 8 – ANY SECRETS LEFT IN BERMUDA?

She remained in limbo the following morning. The SGC had still no idea what they wanted to do with her and she began to feel a little like a prisoner of war. Caught between two places and welcome in none. A tough place to be, by anyone's definition.

Rodney gave her some perspective. She could help him try and find out exactly how she got there and perhaps that would allow the powers that be to come up with a decision on her behalf. It was with this in mind that she found herself in his laboratory the next morning, staring curiously around at the many gadgets and devices that he had placed strategically around the room, in various states of dismemberment. She went to pick one up and almost dropped it when he barked a quick command not to touch anything, and she quickly removed her hands and placed them behind her back. To give herself something to do until he deigned to give her him full attention, she pulled out a camera and began taking casual shots, trying to capture his expressions and intensity as he looked thoughtfully at his laptop, seeming to have forgotten that she was even in the room.

Something made him look up and catch her about to take another shot, and she quickly increased the shutter speed to take fast speed photos as the expression changed to a more guarded one on his face. It was these human emotions that appealed to the photographer in her, and the way that people chose to hide certain parts of themselves from the world. She had learnt early on, that the camera had the ability to pick up the parts that were hidden. Something that had won her many awards as a photographer.

"I can come back Rodney – if you're busy...?" She tried to be understanding. In his shoes she would have been annoyed at having the extra task added to his workload, and tried to give him an out should he need to take it.

"No... I'm good. Just pulling up something similar to the mythical properties of the Bermuda Triangle. We had a device on earth, found by one of the SG teams – a mirror. It led through to different dimensions – the premise being that there are an infinite number of possibilities, or multi verses out there. All containing basically the same content of what we have in our current universe, but with subtle differences. Or so the theory states. The properties of the mirror have been researched at Area 51 – actually – Sam, Colonel Carter, was one of the physicists responsible for understanding it's properties. I suspect that you fell through something similar when you fell overboard in the Triangle."

She had put her camera down now and watched him fascinated. He became animated when he spoke on a subject that interested him and his hand gestures became effusive. It was like a wind up toy, all energy at first wind, then slowly edging down as the initial enthusiasm began to wane.

"You're talking dimensions? With the mirror? I can't begin to understand multi verses... I have a younger brother who's a gamer and he rants all the time about multi verses, but as I don't get into the games myself, I have no comprehension about he is talking about. But however I came here, I am still in the same dimension – aren't I? And according to your theory, how would I know if I wasn't?"

"Good question, and it's likely you wouldn't, at least not straight away. The differences may be too subtle to notice, but sooner or later something would stand out to you. Something that wasn't quite right."

"Again... out here? How would I know what wasn't right? If I was on earth, yeah – then maybe."

"I want to recreate the exact conditions before you fell into the water. I'll need you to describe exactly what was happening... but if you've blocked some of the events out then we'll need to pull them out of you. With hypnotherapy, perhaps. We have a good pyschiatrist here who might be able to help. She's done some work with hynotherapy and she may be able to take you back to those moments before you fell into the water."

Nicole was dubious. "I don't know that I feel all that comfortable with that. Is there any other way?"

"Any other way for what?"

The Colonel lounged negligently in the doorway, but Nicole wasn't fooled. He may have appeared for all intents and purposes as a casual observer, but she saw immediately the coiled energy in his body ready for action should the need suddenly arise and saw the awareness in those hazel eyes. He was a contradiction, she thought. And a distraction she didn't need.

"We need to get at her memories Sheppard. From just before she hit the water... and while she was in the water. Something happened out there, and she fell through some sort of portal. Time, no – dimensional maybe – or could be just an ordinary, garden variety wormhole... who knows. But Kate Heitmeyer may be able to use hypnotherapy to get at those moments."

John huffed a breath and pushed away from the wall, his eyes keenly observing the small measure of distrust in Nicole's.

"We can't force anyone to undergo hypnotherapy Rodney, you know that. Sometimes it drags up some memories that people just don't want to face, and pulling them out in the open without permission oversteps all sorts of privacy guidelines. I'm sure Miss Harmon would be the first to point that out!"

She watched him approach. They had shared a coffee at breakfast. She'd had a restless night's sleep and noting the shadows under his eyes that morning, it appeared that he had not slept any easier. And wondered at the demons that haunted him.

"You're implying that I have something to hide, Colonel Sheppard?"

"We all have something to hide... Nicole. It's where we hide it and how well, that defines us. I do agree with Rodney – if we can get at those memories, Rodney can attempt to find out just how the hell you got here. I know you'll be wanting some sort of closure on that, and you'll want your choices given back to you, instead of held in limbo here."

"An accurate summary, John – just as I'm sure you'd be happy to be rid of an unwelcome guest that you're most or less forced to babysit." Her voice held a measure of bitterness and he mentally kicked himself. It had not been his intention to make her feel like an unwelcome visitor, and if he had done so, it was certainly not the way he wanted this to go down. He was attracted to her, was able to admit that to himself freely, and would to her if she gave him the chance. But she shut him down whenever the subject hung even slightly in the air and got from that, that she was not interested in any sort of relationship, casual or otherwise.

"Rodney – I'm going to get Carson to take a sample of her DNA to find out what level of ATA she carries in her. Do you want to run a sample through your data banks as well, see if it comes close to activating any of those devices you've put on hold. Needing a stronger gene – a stronger female gene...?"

Rodney looked thoughtful. "I do want to run that Sheppard, but I'm more interesting in finding the link between the Triangle and here. It's always been a bit of an anomaly and there is some hypothesis that the Triangle is linked to Atlantis. Triangle writers have used a number of supernatural concepts to explain the events. One explanation pins the blame on leftover technology from the suposedly mythical lost continent of Atlantis. Sometimes connected to the Atlantis story is the submerged rock formation known as the Bimini Road off the island of Bimini in the Bahamas, which is in the Triangle by some definitions. Followers of the purported psychic Edgar Cayce take his prediction that evidence of Atlantis would be found in 1968 as referring to the discovery of the Bimini Road. Believers describe the formation as a road, wall, or other structure, though geologists consider it to be of natural origin. Here, we may finally have the ability to either officially prove or disprove that all speculation regarding that is either true or false. I have always sat on the fence until we came here. After that, all bets were off!"

John huffed a laugh. "Yeah, finding Atlantis pretty much blew all current theories out of the water, no pun intended. So, Nicole. How about it? We'll not make it an order or a directive. We'll appeal to the journalist, the writer – the one inside you who craves answers to questions that have remained unanswered for an eternity. Help us to connect the dots, and you'll get your own answers as well as some that have been plaguing mankind for more than a lifetime."

"Succinctly put John, and put like that? How can I refuse. So Rodney, lead on. Hypnotise me, stick needles into me... and I don't need to tell you how I hate needles, but I ask one thing. Don't lie to me, don't try to trick me and keep me informed every step of the way. Deal?"

She put out her small hand and Rodney did not hesitate, grasping it quickly and shaking it. She turned to repeat the gesture to John and he hesitated slightly before picking it up in his much larger hand and turning it over so that it rest palm up in his. He stroked it softly with his thumb and she shivered, wondering if she had made the right call. He laughed softly, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes and knew then, that she was not as unaffected by him as she made out. Far from it. Just pushed it down below the surface where it remained just out of sight. But damned if he'd let it stay there for much longer. Sink or swim, and John had always been a very good swimmer.