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Act II
When McKay woke again, he was still in a plain room with white walls and no windows, but the bed he was on was soft and he was not strapped down.
He jerked upright. Looking down, he grimaced at the sturdy brown pants and tan tunic he was wearing. Scanning the room, he saw a small table against one wall and a simple wardrobe on another with a door next to it.
“Right,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his sore wrists. “Let’s see if – what the hell?”
He looked down at his arms. Encircling each of his wrists, about two inches in width, was a silver-blue metal band. Delicate lines of light pulsed around the edges, and when he looked closer, Rodney could make out miniscule wires and crystals, glowing with energy.
“I repeat,” Rodney said, louder into the empty room, “what the hell!” He traced a finger along one of the bands, looking for a clasp of some sort.
“They do not come off easily,” said a voice from behind him.
“Yah!” Rodney jumped about two feet in the air. He leapt off the bed and whirled around.
A tall man, perhaps in his late-fifties, regarded the physicist with bemusement from a chair near the head of the bed. “They are communication devices,” he said, nodding at the metal bands, “and also capable of tracking one’s movements throughout the Reservoir.”
“Oh, really?” Rodney spat, still trying to bring his heart rate down. “’Cause they look an awful lot like shackles to me!”
The man nodded. The little hair he had left was blonde, sticking out at odd angles, but his blue-eyed gaze didn’t waver. “Yes,” he said frankly. “They are that, too. But only when necessary.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rodney demanded, nervously holding his ground as the older man stood and approached him.
“I am Garrad,” he said, avoiding the physicist’s question. Except for the lack of metal wrist bands, he was dressed the same as Rodney, but with a large metal and crystal pendant around his neck. “Welcome to the Reservoir.”
“What have you done with my team?” McKay fired back, crossing his arms.
“Your team is fine,” Garrad said, his tone reminding Rodney of an assuring fatherly figure. “They left you with us and returned to your world some time ago.”
“What?” Rodney’s defensive stance melted a little. “Why . . . when will they be back?”
Garrad crinkled his brow. “They will not be coming back to the Reservoir.”
McKay stuck out his chin again. “You’re lying,” he said, with all the confidence he could muster. “You’re a liar and a kidnapper.”
To Rodney’s surprise, Garrad laughed. “You think so? It matters not. You are part of the Reservoir now.”
Rodney shook his head. “Okay, fine,” he said, annoyed. “I’ll bite – what’s ‘the Reservoir’?”
“It is the reason you were brought here.” Garrad smiled. “Would you like to see it?”
---
Rodney didn’t see that he had many options at this point. Assuming that Garrad was lying about his team (which Rodney did assume, and fervently), he was better off observing these “Reservoir” people and waiting for Atlantis to find him. Especially after Garrad turned to him casually and said, “Oh, and you should know that your control bracers will give you a severe electrical shock if I send the proper signal.” The Valerian ignored Rodney’s squeak of protest. “Trying to leave the facility would be . . . inadvisable.”
So McKay followed the older man as he led him through the corridors of the Reservoir. And before the tour was even half over, Doctor Meredith Rodney McKay, perhaps for the first time in his life, was struck speechless.
“The Reservoir is a great scientific community,” Garrad said as they walked. “All the work we do here is to one purpose – the annihilation of the Wraith.”
They passed impressive laboratories in every hallway, each brimming with strange technologies. Some McKay recognized as Ancient, but many others were foreign to him. His fingers itched at the sight.
“Scientists have been brought here from planets across the galaxy,” Garrad continued. “The best minds of their cultures, all united here toward our common goal.”
Men and women of all shapes, sizes, and colors worked in the laboratories, some conducting experiments whose purposes Rodney could only begin to guess. Many of them wore control bracers, but some wore pendants around their necks, as Garrad did.
“Thanks to the lack of interference from the outside world, the Reservoir has been able to create astounding technological devices.”
McKay stared as he glimpsed each of the labs. He saw a small, disc-shaped forcefield spring to life in a scientist’s hand; he saw a row of teleportation armbands, like the one Kiryk the runner had used, set out for inspection; he even saw what looked like an unmanned remote-controlled surveillance aircraft being cleaned.
Garrad spoke proudly as they passed all this. “We also have extremely effective cloaking fields that keep our limited surface installations hidden from both the Wraith and offworlders.”
Rodney’s face fell. Atlantis might have a harder time rescuing him than he thought. Then Garrad’s words struck him. “Wait,” he said, speaking for the first time in what seemed a long while, “we’re underground?”
“Several levels,” Garrad replied.
Before Rodney could respond, the acrid smell of burnt flesh assailed his nose. “Ugh!” he exclaimed, stepping back as two men passed by, holding what looked like an charred deer on a pole between them.
The men murmured apologies to Garrad, who nodded and gestured them onward. “The local wildlife sometimes wanders into our research experiments,” Garrad explained, turning back to Rodney with a casual air. “We usually keep our defense net on a lower setting, but today we ran a test at full power, and you have just seen the results. Impressive, no?”
“Sure,” Rodney said weakly, but the stench of burnt meat was still in his nose, and he felt a little sick. It was looking less and less like he could expect an easy rescue.
“You will find the great advantage to working at the Reservoir, Doctor McKay, is that we need not deal with any bureaucracy. Tell me,” he said, eyeing the physicist inquisitively, “how many times have your superiors dismissed one of your projects, or cut off your resources?”
Rodney snorted. This was a topic he could warm to. “Don’t even get me started!” He waved a hand through the air. “Even geniuses like myself have to go through miles of red tape, funding requests and government oversight back home.”
“Not here, Doctor McKay,” Garrad said, excitement in his eyes. “Not here.” They turned one last corner. “And now we have come to your personal lab.”
Any response Rodney might have had died on his lips as he stepped into the laboratory. It was big – much larger than his lab on Atlantis. Devices and computers lined the walls, and the itching in his fingers came back. Half a dozen lab tables were spread before him, each holding a number of gadgets. McKay even thought he saw a kitchenette in one corner, complete with what looked like a cooling unit as big as a full-sized refrigerator.
It was, in a word, beautiful.
“Doctor McKay,” said a female voice beside him. He snapped his mouth shut and turned to see Emadara looking at him with a positively gleeful expression on her face. “It is good to see you again. I am very much looking forward to working with you.”
Rodney stepped back. “What . . . ?”
“Emadara will be your partner,” Garrad explained, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “She is one of our best and brightest. I look forward to what you will create together.” The pair looked at him eagerly.
Something inside Rodney snapped. “Okay, hold on!” He jabbed a finger at the two of them. “First, you kidnap me, separate me from my team, put me in shackles,” he stuck the offending bands under their noses, “and then you take me on a tour of your crazy underground science wonderland?!” He took a breath and began pacing. “And now you just assume that if you put enough – enough toys under my nose that I’ll cave in and join you in your little scientist slave colony?!” He breathed heavily. “Are you insane?!”
Garrad’s face remained impassive, but Emadara watched the tirade with wide-eyed awe.
“I thought . . .” Emadara began timidly, “I thought you would be happy to join our cause.”
“Well, you thought wrong!”
The girl turned to Garrad. “But we need him, Garrad! He has to stay!”
“I know, Dara, and he will.”
“No, he won’t!” McKay fired back.
“But all the stories,” Emadara said, turning back to Rodney. “They say you can fix anything. That you are a genius with no equal.”
“I don’t care what you’ve heard or what you – really? There are stories?”
“Don’t worry, Dara,” Garrad said. “He will come around eventually. Why don’t you set up your current project, so Doctor McKay can see your work?”
The girl nodded and left the room.
McKay crossed his arms. “So now what?” he said with only a little trepidation. “Are you gonna shock me until I . . . until I invent stuff for you?” He shook a manacled wrist at the Valerian.
Garrad sighed. “Your control bracers will act as a two-way radio, allowing you to communicate with anyone within the Reservoir.” His tone was irritatingly like that of a disappointed father. “They also act as a pass key, allowing you access to limited tools, supplies, and laboratories within the facility.” He turned to leave. “As you prove your loyalty, your privileges will be expanded.”
“Wait!” Rodney called, seething with anger.
“Your people are not coming for you,” Garrad said firmly, cutting off the physicist’s words. “You may as well get used to working here.”
“You can’t do this!”
“And may I remind you that the control bracers also contain locator beacons,” the older man said, finally stepping outside the door. “If you try to escape,” he finished ominously, “I will know.”
---
“Doctor Z is still working on the ‘gate addresses, sir,” Lorne reported, standing at parade rest as John paced beside the infirmary bed. “We’ll start organizing search teams as soon as he’s got something concrete.”
“Good,” Sheppard said. “And keep me informed.” He jerked his head toward the adjoining office space where Beckett and Hamri were discussing the latest brain scans. “Those two aren’t gonna be letting us out of their sight any time soon, so report directly to me.”
“Yes sir,” the major said with a half-smile. When Sheppard dismissed him, Lorne nodded to both the colonel and Woolsey before striding out of the infirmary. He passed Ronon on the way, who had taken to prowling the edges of the room.
“The truth is, Colonel,” Woolsey said bluntly, “there’s not much we can do.”
“Well, we sure as hell aren’t giving up!”
“I didn’t mean that we would,” the bureaucrat added in a placating tone. “But despite your recovered memories, we still have very limited intel.”
“Should go back,” Ronon said, his low voice carrying. “Maybe Lorne missed something.”
“It’s a possibility,” Woolsey conceded without acquiescing.
“Maybe we should do more hypnosis,” John said, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe Hamri can get something more out of me if we try again.”
“Even so, we may still have to wait for the SGC to send –“
“They drugged us with bara root,” Teyla said suddenly, staring into the middle distance. She had been sitting cross-legged on one of the infirmary beds in silent thought since the end of the hypnosis session. “That is why we cannot remember the actual memory alteration.”
“Yes,” Woolsey said grimly, “I’m afraid so. Which is why –“
“No,” Teyla interrupted, a hint of excitement in her tone. “They used bara root!” She looked at the commander. “Bara root is used to make strong sleeping draughts. It is prized for its effectiveness.”
Sheppard stared. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “We kinda figured that . . .”
“She means it’s hard to get,” Ronon said, catching on. “Expensive, too.”
“Yes!” Teyla exclaimed, jumping off the bed. “And very rare. In fact, I have only ever encountered one marketplace where it was available for purchase.”
“So if we find the bara root supplier, we might be able to trace him to the Valerians,” Sheppard concluded.
“Exactly!” Teyla exulted.
The team’s newly infused hope was palpable. “Cador said he would get some more tomorrow,” John said. “If we go to this marketplace Teyla knows, we might catch him!”
“We should leave before dawn,” Ronon added. “Get there in time to stake the place out.”
Three sets of eyes turned toward Woolsey in anticipation.
The bureaucrat took a breath. “It seems like an awful long shot to me,” he said carefully.
“Yeah,” Sheppard conceded. “But it’s one we gotta take.”
Richard held the team’s gaze a moment longer before speaking. “I agree. But,” he added hastily, “I’m sending Major Lorne’s team.”
John clenched his jaw. “With all due respect, sir, it’s my team that’s a man down, and it’s my team that’s gonna go get him.”
“And it’s also your team that’s had their memories tampered with,” Woolsey frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t let you out from under medical supervision.” He held up a hand to cut off their sounds of protest. “I’m sorry, Colonel – but your team is on stand down until further notice.”
---
McKay fumbled with the alien screwdriver; the position of his control bracers made it difficult to get the leverage he needed. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he probed for any kind of indentation where the tool might catch. Instead, the head slipped on the smooth surface, running off the metal and scraping a red line on the soft skin of his underarm. Rodney dropped the screwdriver with a yelp.
“They won’t come off,” Emadara called from across the lab. “You should stop trying or you’ll hurt yourself.”
“Hmm,” McKay mused aloud, his back to her, “should I listen to the delusional little girl who actually thinks it’s fun to live in an underground prison of scientific slave labor, or should I try to remove the shackles that will introduce me to electroshock therapy when I try to escape? And notice!” he added with a raised finger, “that I said when, not if.”
Emadara shook her head as she turned her attention back to the device she’d set up on the table in front of her. “No one here is a slave,” she said tiredly. It was obvious some of her earlier reverence for the physicist had bled away. “Some are reluctant at first, yes, but Garrad always manages to reason with them.”
“Now why does that sound so ominous?” Rodney muttered. “Just how many scientists have you kidnapped from various worlds, anyways?”
Emadara’s expression turned hard. “We do what we must. The galaxy will thank us when we have utterly destroyed the Wraith.”
Rodney snorted and looked over his shoulder at her. “That many, huh?”
“You will understand, in time,” the Valerian said heatedly. She connected a wire and Rodney watched as a crystal in the device lit up.
Despite himself, McKay was fascinated by her work. The device was circular, made up of twisting metal bands and interspersed crystal junctions, and covered in enough wires that it looked a little like a big ring of steel wool.
“What –“ Rodney found himself asking, then stopped himself. He turned abruptly away.
“What?” Emadara asked.
“Never mind,” the physicist snapped.
“Fine,” she said coolly. Then, “I was given this project specially.” Her tone was casual, and Rodney found himself edging closer. “I am one of the few at the Reservoir who can make the Ancestors’ technology work.”
“You’ve got the gene?” Rodney said in spite of himself. Then, “That doesn’t look like Ancient technology.”
“It is a blend of Ancestral crystal processors, the Reservoir’s own emitters, and,” she paused, “Wraith organics.”
“You’ve got Wraith tech?” The physicist lost his internal battle and came to inspect the device, which made Emadara smile. “How did you get your hands on that?”
“The Reservoir has several Wraith transmitters in its possession. When we need to test a new weapon or defense, we will call a ship to us.”
“What?!” McKay stared at her like she’d sprouted horns. “You call the Wraith here?!”
“We are well protected,” she answered, a bit defensively. “And how else are we to get subjects for our experiments?”
“You . . . you have actual Wraith here?” Rodney asked. “That you experiment on?”
“Yes.” Emadara narrowed her eyes. “Surely, Doctor,” she said testily, “you do not believe those monsters deserve any sympathy or . . . or mercy?”
“I’m just, uh, surprised,” Rodney said, evading the question. “And I can’t point fingers, anyway, since my people have done their fair share of experimentation on the Wraith, but . . .” He trailed off. “It never seems to end well.”
Emadara frowned and went back to work.
“Hey,” McKay said suddenly, “you’re not wearing control bracers.” She looked up to see that he had been watching her work intently.
“No,” she answered. “I have proven my loyalty to the Reservoir.” She drew herself up taller and fingered a chain around her neck before bringing out the pendant necklace Rodney had seen earlier on Garrad and a few others. “This now contains my communicator and security protocols.”
Rodney reached for the crystal, but she snatched it away before he could touch it. “Well,” he huffed, “what makes you so loyal to the Reservoir in the first place?”
“They saved me,” she said simply. “The Wraith killed my family when I was a child. Garrad brought me here and took care of me.” She smiled at the memory. “He reminds me a lot of my real father.” Then her features hardened and her tone turned cold. “Of course, I wanted revenge on the Wraith. So when I was old enough, I set out to learn everything the Reservoir had to offer.” She shrugged. “Garrad says I’m a prodigy.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Rodney muttered. “But unlike you,” he added, “my people aren’t dead, and they will want me back. So . . .” He waved a hand at her. “Go back to your toys and leave me alone.” He spared one last glance at the Ancient-Wraith device before forcing himself to turn away.
“But I thought you would be able to help me increase power to these emitters,” Emadara said swiftly, almost desperately. When Rodney half turned, she continued quickly. “Every time I reroute the crystals’ energy, the Wraith bio-matter absorbs the charge.”
“Well of course it does,” McKay said scornfully. “That’s how Wraith tech fixes itself. If you want to get past that, you’ll have to bypass the organic receptors and create a feedback loop in the crystal processors.”
Emadara looked at the circlet of wires as the solution dawned on her. “Of course . . . “ she murmured, beginning to detach and reattach various bits and pieces.
“No no no, that’s all wrong,” Rodney said, and then his hands were brushing hers away. “Were you purposely trying to blow out the emitters? No, here, like this . . .”
Emadara watched the physicist’s sure hands work, and a smile spread over her face.
“The stories were true,” she whispered.
“What?” McKay asked, distracted.
“You really are a genius,” she said, the awe coming back into her voice. “I have been working on this project for months,” she said, almost whispering, “and you have solved it in mere minutes.”
“What?” McKay asked again, this time in alarm. He seemed to realize what he was doing and hastily dropped the wires. “Uh, no,” he said backing up, “I wasn’t – that’s not – I didn’t mean –“
“Garrad,” Emadara said, and McKay looked up to see her speaking into her pendant like a walkie-talkie. “You were right! Doctor McKay is the smartest man in the galaxy.” She grinned at him. “He has already been a tremendous help to the Reservoir.”
“No, no, that’s not true!” Rodney insisted. Then, as an afterthought, “I mean, that second part isn’t true. That is,” he babbled, “I wasn’t trying to help! She tricked me!”
But he was being ignored. “Yes,” Emadara was saying, “we’re ready to begin testing now. We’ll be up shortly.” She dropped the crystal device and beamed at him.
Rodney got a sinking feeling in his gut. “Oh crap,” he said despondently, “what did I do now?”
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---
The image of a frowning man flashed across the laptop screen, followed by one of the same man pointing a finger at a group of frightened-looking blue-shirted scientists, which was followed by another photo of the man craning to look down at the mustard he’d just dripped onto his shirt.
Zelenka began to have second thoughts about showing Colonel Sheppard’s team a slideshow of their missing teammate.
Ronon broke the silence first. “He looks soft.”
“Uh, this is perhaps not the best sampling,” Zelenka admitted. “The engineering department has very few pictures of him where he is not scowling.” The picture changed. “Or yelling.” The picture changed again. “Or talking with his mouth full.”
“No, this was very thoughtful, Radek,” Teyla said. She paused and tilted her head at the screen, then finished carefully. “He seems an interesting character.”
“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” Radek said hastily, moving to close the laptop.
“No,” Sheppard said sharply, and Zelenka froze, only now realizing that the colonel had been watching the screen with a hawk’s intensity.
At that moment, the slide show ended and a video began playing.
“Ah,” Zelenka said, “this has been making the rounds in the science departments.” He started to say more, but stopped himself.
On screen, McKay sat slumped at a lab bench, asleep and drooling heavily on the countertop. The image shook a little as whomever was holding the camera giggled.
Teyla sat up straighter. “That is my voice,” she said.
Two men approached the sleeping scientist. Ronon grunted in surprise when his own dreadlocked figure entered the frame, but Sheppard remained perfectly still when he saw himself onscreen.
It was obvious where the video was going, and sure enough, the conspirators set off some loud noisemaker directly behind McKay, who startled awake, shouted, and promptly fell out of his chair.
They watched in silence as laughter filled the video, followed by Rodney’s cursing.
“I’ll get you back!” came the voice from the laptop. “You hear me, Sheppard?!?”
“Just a little team bonding, Rodney!” John’s own laughing voice came from the speakers.
“Cold showers for a month, I swear it! And your toilet is going to mysteriously malfunction some night! You’re going to wake up covered in –“
The recording ended abruptly.
Zelenka didn’t move. The silence in the room was tangible.
“Someone got in our brains,” Sheppard said softly, “and took a member of my team.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“It’s not your fault, John,” Teyla responded just as softly.
Radek swallowed, afraid to break the spell by moving.
“The hell it is!” The colonel’s sudden outburst made the engineer jump. “And I am not gonna sit on my ass when I could damn well be doing something about it!”
With that, Sheppard jumped up and stormed out of the infirmary.
Zelenka watched in awe as Ronon and Teyla also leapt to their feet. They gave each other a look – Teyla’s raised eyebrow saying I knew it wouldn’t take long while Ronon’s ferocious grin said About damn time – and followed their team leader into the hallway.
Radek pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Hodně stěstí,” he said quietly.
---
Fatima jumped and nearly dropped her notepad when Colonel Sheppard came storming in to Woolsey’s office.
“Colonel,” Woolsey said, standing from where he’d been examining Hamri’s notes. “What are you doing here?”
“My team is going on this mission,” the soldier replied without preamble. He put his hands on the desk and leaned toward the city commander.
Behind him, Ronon and Teyla barged into the office in a similar manner, their faces mirroring Sheppard’s look of determination. Fatima found herself backing toward a corner where she could better observe their interactions.
Woolsey frowned. “I thought I made myself clear, Colonel, that I cannot allow you to – “
“Look, it makes sense, all right?” Sheppard interrupted. “My team is the only one that knows what any of the Valerians look like.”
“We’ve got the best chance of catching them in the marketplace,” Ronon said.
“And we would call back for reinforcements as soon as we had solid intel,” Sheppard added quickly.
Woolsey shook his head. “Protocol clearly dictates –“
“Richard, you have surely learned in your time here,” Teyla interrupted, voice calm but firm, “that following protocol is not always the best course of action.”
Richard looked annoyed at being interrupted again. “I still think you all need to be under medical supervision.”
“Aye, I’ll second that!” said an irate brogue. Hamri turned to see Carson sweep into the office, red-faced and breathing hard, as if he’d run all the way from the infirmary.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded of his nearest patient, which happened to be Ronon. The Scot didn’t seem the least bit fazed that he was lecturing a man a full head taller than him. “Back to the infirmary with the lot of you!”
“Carson,” Sheppard demanded suddenly, “there’s no physical reason we should be prevented from going on a mission, is there?”
“Oh, aye, I’ve got a list as long as my arm!”
“Carson,” Teyla pleaded, “we must go on this mission. We are Doctor McKay’s best hope.”
“And we’re all healthy,” Ronon added, as if that were argument enough.
The doctor sputtered. “You mean apart from the lingering subdural hematoma?!”
“Carson,” John said again, and this time his voice was low. “We need to do this.”
“You don’t need to do anything, lad,” Beckett fired back, crossing his arms.
Sheppard paused, and Fatima had a feeling that he was about to pull an ace from his sleeve. “I thought you, Carson,” the colonel said finally, “would understand what it’s like to be manipulated into hurting your friends.”
The silence in the room was so thick Fatima could have cut it with a knife.
The psychologist watched an interesting range of emotions play across Beckett’s face. She knew the basics to his story – that he was actually a clone of the original Carson Beckett, created by the Wraith known as Michael, who had exerted some kind of control over him – but there were deeper currents here that she couldn’t guess at.
All three members of Sheppard’s team seemed to stare at the doctor without blinking. Woolsey’s posture was tense, his back ramrod straight.
At last, Carson released a shaking breath. “There’s nothing physically wrong with them,” he said, looking at the floor. “There’s no real need to keep them in the infirmary.”
Teyla put a hand on the Scot’s arm in a mixture of sympathy and gratitude. Sheppard nodded, almost imperceptibly, and turned back to Woolsey.
“As much as it delights me to hear that,” Richard said dryly, “it’s not their physical health I’m worried about.”
And suddenly, every eye in the room was on Fatima.
“Doctor Hamri,” Woolsey said imperiously, “what is your opinion?”
She looked between the bureaucrat and the soldier, and suddenly the words were out of her mouth before she was completely conscious of her decision. “I think it would be beneficial to their mental health,” she said in a rush. “Recovering Doctor McKay in body may help them cope with losing their memories of him.” She stopped, afraid that she had overstepped her bounds.
Sheppard looked at her gratefully, then turned back to Woolsey, hope in his eyes. Teyla sent her a small, relieved smile, and Fatima even thought she saw something like respect flicker across Ronon’s impassive face. Beckett, for his part, just gave her a knowing look.
When she finally looked at Woolsey, the bureaucrat’s face was inscrutable. She held her breath – along with the rest of the room – and waited for an answer.
---
“You know,” Richard said wryly, leaning over the balcony railing as he and Doctor Hamri watched Sheppard’s team disappear through the rippling event horizon, “when I said you’d start making friends here, this is not what I meant.”
---
McKay stood in the small observation room, trying not to get jostled by Garrad, Emadara, Cador, and half a dozen Reservoir scientists he didn’t know. The Ancient-Wraith circlet device sat on a table near the room’s single window, which took up most of one wall. Rodney assumed it opened on the experimentation area, but it was dark beyond the glass.
Garrad appeared at his side and clapped him on the shoulder. “I knew you would come around,” the older man said in a jovial voice.
“Yes, well . . .” Rodney said awkwardly. “What are we testing, anyways?”
Garrad gestured to the crystal-wire device. “You are familiar with the Wraith’s ability to mentally manipulate humans?” he asked. “To make them see things, and to control them?”
“Much more than I would like,” McKay muttered.
“This device,” Garrad continued, eyes alight, “will allow us to use that power against them.”
In spite of himself, Rodney was intrigued. “Really?”
“Our only difficulty was the short range at which we could broadcast the frequency,” the Valerian said. He smiled widely at Rodney. “But that is no longer a problem.”
“Yeah, well, glad to help,” Rodney said weakly.
“I hope you are now beginning to see the great advantages of the Reservoir, Doctor McKay,” Garrad continued, waving a hand to indicate the hustle and bustle surrounding them. “As you can see, because our scientific progress is unimpeded, we have gone from theory to testing in a matter of hours.”
Rodney murmured what could have been agreement, impressed despite himself.
“Garrad!” Emadara called, face flushed with excitement. “Everything is ready.”
“Wonderful!” Garrad responded. The room fell silent as he crossed to the window to join the young woman. The rest of the scientists lined up to watch, and by simple virtue of the fact that Rodney refused to get out of their way, he ended up in front.
Garrad picked up the circlet device as Cador spoke from his seat at a console. “The subjects are in place, sir.”
Garrad smiled down at Emadara. Then, reverently, he offered her the device.
A murmur of surprise rippled through the scientists, and Emadara’s eyes went wide.
“Garrad!” Cador cried. “We expected you to perform the first test.”
“Emadara deserves this,” the older Valerian responded with affection.
“But she hasn’t worked nearly as long on this project as – as others have,” Cador said heatedly, rising from his seat.
“Sit down, Cador!” Garrad snapped. After a moment, the younger man did so, seething.
Emadara was breathless. “Thank you, Garrad,” she said, taking the device. “Thank you!”
“This is your victory, my dear,” the fatherly Valerian said. Then, more authoritatively, “Let us begin.” The lights in the room beyond the window snapped on.
Rodney jumped when he saw the Wraith, realizing a moment later that the creature was caged. Thick bars trapped it in a small space as it paced angrily, tangled white hair and tattered black coat flying.
Garrad pulled away from Emadara, giving her space. The girl took the crystal-wire device and set it on her head. It sat there like a hideous crown.
“You are about to witness the power of the Reservoir,” Garrad said, and McKay realized he was speaking for his benefit.
Rodney scoffed. “Overdramatic much, are we?” But he didn’t take his eyes off the glass.
Something else moved in the room beyond, and McKay realized for the first time that there was a person outside the creature’s cage. Rodney’s stomach turned as the figure came into the light.
It was definitely human, dressed in a plain linen shift, but its eyes . . . its eyes were dull and lifeless, staring without blinking, seeing nothing. It was completely bald, and Rodney honestly couldn’t tell if it was male or female. The worst part was the ghastly line of stitches crisscrossing its skull. It looked like someone had repeatedly taken a butcher knife to the head, then gotten a clumsy three-year-old to staple the flesh back together.
“What . . . ?” Rodney asked, but his mouth was too dry to finish the question. He glanced around, but none of the scientists near him would look away from the test.
“We call it a Whisperer,” Emadara answered, sounding as if she were speaking from far away. In the room beyond, the Whisperer’s lips moved in tandem with the Valerian’s, though Rodney could not hear if it made any sound. “To manipulate the Wraith’s telepathic waves, we had to make a human brain as close to a Wraith brain as possible.” Her wide-eyed, hungry gaze never left the window.
“But . . . but . . . you lobotomized a person!” Rodney squeaked in horror.
Garrad tore his eyes from the scene to look at Rodney. “As I have told you,” he said, “we are not bound by the arbitrary rules of various societies.”
McKay’s retort died as Emadara raised her arm to shoulder height. Beyond the glass, the Whisperer mirrored her movements, pointing at the cage. The crystals on the crown began to glow.
The Wraith, which had been snarling, suddenly fell silent. It stared at the Whisperer, then began twisting its head from side to side, growling quietly.
“Yes,” Garrad whispered. “It’s working.” Rodney felt the room tense with anticipation.
Without warning, the Wraith screamed and lunged at the blank-eyed human outside its cage. The bars rattled at the impact, but held fast. So the Wraith did it again. And again. And again.
“What’s happening?” Rodney asked shrilly.
“It’s going mad,” Emadara said, and when McKay looked at her, the pure ecstasy on her face sent a chill up his spine.
Black blood began to pour from a wound on the Wraith’s head where it had rammed itself into the cage wall. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the glass as the creature used its supernatural strength to body slam itself again and again. It began to claw at its eyes and scream.
Rodney was out and running down the white corridors before he’d fully registered that he’d left the room.
He skidded around a corner, found an unlocked, empty lab, and burst inside.
“C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered, frantically searching through the drawers and cupboards for another screwdriver. If he was lucky, he might be able to get the bracers off before Garrad even knew he was gone.
“Aha!” he crowed, producing a wrench-like tool. He leaned over one of the lab benches and began working.
Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. “Doctor McKay.” Garrad’s voice coming out of the shackles almost made Rodney drop the wrench. “Doctor McKay, what are you doing?” When Rodney didn’t answer, Garrad added, “I take it you were not impressed by the experiment.”
“No!” Rodney burst out, feeling ridiculously like a secret service agent as he spoke into his wrist. “Well, yes,” he amended, “but not in a good way! Look,” he said, tone acidic, “those ‘arbitrary rules of society’ you were talking about? Those are called ethics!”
“You still don’t understand that our work here transcends moral codes.” Garrad’s voice was insistent. “Nothing should stand in the way of scientific progress.”
“There was a time I might have agreed with you,” Rodney spat, still worrying at the metal bands with the alien wrench, “but even then I had limits! I was never a – a monster!”
“I see.” A pause. “It seems I shall have to find another way to gain your cooperation, Doctor.” McKay’s stomach dropped. “I am sorry to have to do this.”
“I deactivated the electroshock function of my bracers!” Rodney bluffed desperately.
There was a pause from the other end. Then, “You’re lying.”
“Nope,” Rodney said, “and that’s a big problem for you, isn’t it?” If he could just keep Garrad talking, maybe he could buy enough time to truly disable the shackles. “I have a theory,” he elaborated, “that the Reservoir has no security.”
“You know that we have magnificent defenses.″
“No no no,” the physicist said dismissively. “I mean security personnel. Like big, beefy guards. That’s why no one’s burst in to get me yet, isn’t it?” Rodney smiled at the silence on the other end.
“We do not need security personnel,” Garrad finally answered. “We have our defenses, and we have the bracers.”
“You don’t need security, you don’t need ethics – I bet you don’t need safety protocols, either!” McKay said with scorn. “How many of your scientists have died in lab accidents because safety guidelines would have ‘impeded’ their progress?”
Garrad’s silence confirmed Rodney’s hunch.
“Ha!” the physicist snorted. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said, holding one of his wrists up to the light, “but outside oversight doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”
There was a long silence. “Doctor McKay,” Garrad finally replied. “The beacon in your bracers has not moved for some time.”
“Huh?“ Was that a seam in the metal? If he could just get the wrench under it . . .
“I don’t think you’ve disabled the bracers at all.”
“What? No, they –“
The crystals and wires under the surface of Rodney’s shackles suddenly glowed with an energy so bright it hurt his eyes, and he cried out as he dropped the wrench.
Before the tool hit the countertop, electricity coursed through his body, stealing his breath, convulsing every muscle, and sending him to the floor in agony.
“Ah,” he heard Garrad say as darkness descended. “I thought not.”
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