A/N: Double post today, this one's a short but important one. We still have quite a but of story left to go, and lots more trouble to get into before our band escapes completely.
"It's almost ready," Colonel Carter said, while she adjusted cables running into a caliper on the gate.
The SGA was devoid of all people, the large and airy space feeling almost too big without the crowds that traveled through on a daily basis. Thick black cables snaked across the floor, running crazily from the gate itself to the various devices created by the Carters.
"Isn't that a trip hazard?" O'Neill said as he watched his second in command step over another cable.
She shot him a slightly exasperated look. "Let me know if you come up with a better idea."
A large shield sat behind the gate itself, made of energy absorbing technology. That way, if the beam misfired, Sam wouldn't blow a hole in the side of the building, not to mention the next 58 city blocks and whatever things floating in space that happened to be in the way.
She knew it had to be precise, the beam had to engage the millisecond that the gate formed. One second too soon, the beam would pass harmlessly through to her shield, and the gate would open to the planet that SG-1 came from… in the wrong reality.
One second too late, the beam would enter the wormhole, destroying whatever might lay on the planet's side- also in the wrong reality.
It had to be exact.
O'Neill's voice startled her out of her thoughts.
"Where's everybody else?" He asked, looking around the control room.
She looked up, officially annoyed at the disruption. "The other SG-1 is in the infirmary."
O'Neill looked around again.
"What about the MacGyver guy? I haven't seen him around for a while."
"He's here, sir. He was helping me with parts of this." She thought for a moment. "Actually, it's probably been about," She glanced at her watch, "four hours since I've seen him." She shrugged. "He's around."
o-O-o-O-o
Mac became aware of the sounds first.
The dull din of voices in the background.
The rattle of a wheeled cart passing somewhere close by.
A soft swooshing off to his right.
Next, he focused on the sensations. His left shoulder hurt.
A dull throbbing ache in his head was the next sensation. He squinted against the sharp pain that flared in his skull as he tried to move a little bit.
Definitely a concussion.
Second time in a week he'd been knocked out cold.
Not a record he was looking to break.
Speaking of cold, he was freezing. The side of his face, his left arm and leg all felt like blocks of ice.
Okay. That was odd. Was he in a freezer?
Next order of business: opening his eyes.
Ow. Even though it was dark, the dim lighting still hurt his head. Did he have a concussion? Oh wait. He'd already been there. Yeah. Definitely a concussion.
He wiggled his fingers experimentally.
Interesting.
His hands felt thick and heavy. He tried again, with a similar result.
Trying to reach up to rub his head, he found that his wrists were bound.
Not good.
He quickly tested the rest of his joints, and found himself tied at the ankles, knees, and wrists. He was also gagged.
Great.
Wiggling his eyebrows, he felt the familiar crinkling of dried blood. He wasn't sure what concerned him more; the fact that he was bleeding, or he'd been unconscious long enough for it to have dried.
o-O-o-O-o
"I have a bad feeling about this." O'Neill looked uneasily around the gate room, where Carter was getting ready to activate the gate for her first attempt.
There was a moment of silence, before Teal'c spoke.
"As do I, O'Neill."
"See? Even T here thinks there's something fishy going on here!"
"I did not say I suspected fish."
He rolled his eyes. "Figure of speech. I'll check in the cafeteria and his room."
Teal'c nodded, and headed in the opposite direction.
As O'Neill was walking away, he muttered under his breath.
He's worse than Daniel when it comes to the disappearing act.
"I can hear you, Jack!" Daniel shouted after him.
