Dodecagon

By Veldeia

October 2005
Rating: PG-13 for a bit of language, violence and gory dreams
Category: Crossover, hurt/comfort, action, angst, drama
Spoilers: Takes place in Season 9, right after Beachhead, so anything before that. Pretty clear ones for Meridian, Reckoning and Origin.
Summary: A dream come true turns into a living nightmare, worst of all for Daniel, when SG-1 are trapped inside an Ancient research base, and getting out depends on solving a near impossible linguistic puzzle. With a guest appearance of a few Crusade characters, but told entirely from Daniel & Mitchell's points of view, so no knowledge of Crusade required.

"So, Sam. What would you say if I told you I've located what very much looks like an Ancients' science lab?”

The look on Sam's face was worth seeing, and not least so because Daniel knew exactly how she felt. He felt the same way every time they encountered an unknown set of ruins, an amazing new artifact, or an exciting culture no one had met before.

“Daniel, I--really? How? Where?”

“Don't throw a party yet, it's not hundred-percent certain that it's what I think it is. It was quite a puzzle to begin with, though now it looks really convincing. See, I've only recently had the time and the chance to study all the things we found in the Avalon caves in Glastonbury.”

He might've had the time before, but with Vala constantly peering over his shoulder, he had preferred concentrating on stone tablets and vases and statues instead of the artifacts made of precious metals and jewels. Now she was gone. Of course, it was relieving, in a way, and to say that he missed being stuck with her would've been ridiculous. Still, he did miss her. He was angry at her for what she had done, although it had been her quick action in flying that ship into the nearly complete supergate that had saved them all. And he refused to believe that she might be dead. She was alive, out there somewhere, in the Ori galaxy, probably driving them all nuts.

“And?” Sam asked.

“So. There was that book that we found there which told the story of the Ancients, or the Alterans, an amazing thing in itself, but of course you already know all about that. Now, I had the time to read it through properly, and see what else it contained. In a chapter that told of several Alterans of note, there was a mention of a group of twelve, the Duodecim--that was the only name used of them -- who studied the secrets of the universe, time, infinity and eternity.”

“An Ancient research team! Of course they can't always have had all the knowledge we now know they came to possess--of course someone has invented all that amazing technology--though, this has to be a newer team, right? Since the Avalon caves are not nearly as old as many other Ancients' ruins and devices we have met?” she spoke vivaciously. “But--did you say you've actually found out where they worked? And it's right here, in our galaxy?”

Daniel beamed at her, completely sharing the eager feelings. “Yes--yeah, you see, the book, that was just the beginning of the puzzle. After I had found that one mention of the group, I started looking for other things that might be related to it. I came up with this.”

With a flourish, Daniel revealed something he had been hiding behind his back: a sizable silvery platter with a set of carvings and precious stones in its rim. Sam took it and frowned, gazing at her reflection in the gleaming surface.

“The carvings in the rim contain the word Duodecim, and then a set of six words, which obviously form a gate address. It took me a while to figure it out, since they're not the usual gate chevrons, but I think I have it now. The words refer to the Latin names for the constellations that correspond to the gate chevrons. As far as I know, no one knows the names for all those found on the gate, since there are many more than what one could learn through studying antique literature. But matching them shouldn't be that difficult with some help from someone who knows astronomy...”

“The names would be based on what the constellations look like from Earth's point of view, right? I'll just go fetch my star atlas, and we can get started!"

"Sam, wait. There's something else you'll absolutely have to see," Daniel said, and reached to take the platter back. "First, I thought this was all about the gate address, just a piece telling other Alterans where to find the place. But there's more to it than that."

He pressed one of the stones set into the rim, and the silvery surface lit up. "Here. Try pressing different stones. Just don't press that red one again, since that'll turn it off."

The previously mirror-like platter now showed a room containing a stargate. The room was so narrow that there was probably just enough space for the gate to open without vaporizing the walls. Since the view was from the direction where the DHD would usually lie, it was impossible to tell whether there actually was one, or how long the room was.

Sam pressed one of the jewels, and the view changed to another room. Its shape and size looked similar to the previous one's, but it was more like a laboratory, full of different kinds of devices of all sizes and shapes, computer screens and what seemed very much like sample jars and test tubes.

Another jewel, and another view, though the room was again identical in floor plan. An Ancient gateship filled most of it.

"Daniel--if you knew there was one of those in there, why didn't you just tell me right away?"

"Wasn't it a lot more fun to find out for yourself?"

She grinned. "Well, now that you mention it... I can just imagine all the things we could find there--I'm sure we'd get another ZPM, not to mention a lot of new technology that we've never even seen before..."

The fourth button revealed a room that resembled Daniel's office. It was full of artifacts, probably from hundreds of different cultures, books, and other methods of storing knowledge, such as hand-held computers.

"There are twelve of those rooms, just like there are twelve stones. Twelve workrooms, one for each of the Duodecim, each of whom had their own particular field of research. Still, I don't think that the gate room, for example, is where the stargate was first invented. After all, I'm pretty certain they already had that technology before they came to our galaxy. Perhaps they were trying to develop it further, somehow. Maybe the Duodecim were a team experimenting with high-tech that might not even work properly..."

"Daniel, we've got to get there. Let's figure out that address."

"Ancients' research base... You know, as much as I enjoy having the team back together because of it, I'm not sure we should go there. I'm afraid that even with Teal'c's help, I'll never be able to get either of you out of that place," Cameron Mitchell commented to Carter and Jackson.

To say that he enjoyed the situation was a mild way to put it, really. After the weeks he had spent trying to convince the former members of SG-1 to return to that team, suddenly the team had come to him. They were not actually SG-1 yet, no patches, and the designation, though used, was still temporary, but for all intents and purposes, the team was there. Not because of what he had done, just all thanks to an Ancient set of silverware. Of course they were going, and he was every bit as eager to go as the two scientists. Even the rest of the crew in the control room looked anxious.

Mitchell was sure he could hear a slight quiver in Harriman's voice as he declared his usual "Chevron seven locked."

The MALP was not affected by the mood. Its climb up the ramp seemed to take ages. When it finally entered the event horizon, Jackson and Carter had their noses practically pressed against the screen, waiting for the data to show up.

The screen stayed blank.

"Connection lost," Harriman told. "I'm sorry."

"It never made it through the gate at the other end," Carter said. "There's probably an iris of some sort there. Or then the gate's been buried or blocked and the place just isn't there anymore."

Jackson shook his head as he glanced at the silver platter he had placed on the table. It still showed a mostly empty room with an inactive gate. "I was kind of hoping that the platter was a real-time thing, like a web cam, but of course it's much more likely that it just shows pictures--I mean, it doesn't even look like anything that carries a power source strong enough to receive a signal from a planet far removed from Earth. For all we know, that science lab could've been destroyed thousands of years ago."

"Hey, hey, we're not giving up yet, are we? It's still more than possible it's there. Ancients' stuff is built to last, come rain or come shine. Have you went through all the Avalon artifacts already? If there's an iris, maybe we just need a GDO," Mitchell suggested.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Look for a GDO. Back to the drawing board."

"This has got to be it," Daniel declared, holding out a silver plate, much smaller than the picture viewing platter, but clearly similar in design.

Sam took the plate and turned it around in her hands. "It's got a set of stones, though there's just ten of them, and there's some text too. Can you translate this?"

Daniel nodded. "They look like random words. Aeternitas, astri, tempus, terra, infinitus, universitas... Wait! Universe, time, infinity, eternity! All the four subjects mentioned in the book are here. Could it be that simple?"

"That's the code we need to open the iris? The stones corresponding to those words in that order?"

"It's certainly worth trying."

"All right, I'm transmitting the code," Daniel said. He hoped there wasn't a particular position needed, a specific part of the plate that he should point at the gate, since he had no idea what that should be. He pressed the four stones that stood closest to the four words corresponding to the text.

"That's it. Let's see if it worked."

The MALP rolled up the ramp again and went through the gate.

He was holding his breath, and he could guess that every single one of the crowd in the control room was doing the same.

"Receiving MALP telemetry," Walter announced.

"Yes!" Daniel exclaimed triumphantly, exactly at same time with Sam, though she sat behind the screen in the room above.

Mitchell's "Yeah!" came only a few seconds after them.

The view was familiar from what they had seen on the platter. A small, narrow room, just large enough for the gate. At the far end of the room stood the DHD, and behind it was a doorway.

"It looks safe. Atmosphere's normal, temperature at 80 degrees, and no signs of anyone there so far. General?" Sam turned to look at Landry, eyebrows raised.

He nodded, smiling. "SG-1, you have a go. We'll be expecting to get plenty of souvenirs."

"Sure thing, sir," Sam replied, and headed down to the gate room.

Sam and Daniel sprinted up the ramp, and though Mitchell and Teal'c followed more slowly, Mitchell's steps did have a clearly bouncy quality to them.

"It would appear Christmas has come early this year," Teal'c noted.

Day One

Mitchell's honest opinion was that the gate room on the other side wasn't particularly exciting. It was small, so small that it made the stargate look like a huge, menacing thing. After all, once it would open, the vortex would fill most of the room and vaporize everything it encountered. The room was lit by a soft white glow radiating from the ceiling. At the far end of the room, which was actually quite near, was the DHD. Behind it was the opening to some other place, hopefully more interesting than this.

Jackson lead the way to the doorway and through it, and was the first to say out loud what everyone thought.

"This certainly wasn't on the platter!"

The room was slightly larger than the one with the gate, and different in shape. The walls consisted of twelve open doorways leading into each direction, and thin corner columns between them. But what caught everyone's attention was the large thing that stood on a low pedestal in the middle of the room. It looked like a rectangular slab of ice, partially transparent and shimmering. It had no frames except on one side, which was lined by a silvery casing. Mitchell had never seen anything like it before. Not that it was a surprise, though. After all, this place was supposed to be filled with stuff unlike anything they had ever seen.

"This device looks vaguely familiar," Teal'c noted.

"I think so too, Teal'c. It's a bit like the quantum mirror we found from P3R-233--though it's clearly not identical, and it's considerably bigger," Carter said.

Jackson had already found something else of interest. Around the device were several tables filled with smaller things. Some of them were silver platters and plates similar to the ones they had found at Avalon, while others were, again, not like anything Mitchell had ever seen. He moved over to Jackson's side, to take a closer look.

Carter, on the other hand, concentrated on the large device. "The quantum mirror's made of naquada, but I don't think this is -- the material looks all wrong. And... wow! The amount of energy that's stored in here is just incredible," she muttered, as she knelt down to examine its foot and the pedestal.

"I think there's a ZPM set into the base of it!" Carter added, reaching to try and pull it out.

Jackson was holding a silvery-black something he had picked up.

Mitchell glanced at the things on the table, and grabbed one of the plates.

The heavy sound of stone grating against stone snapped SG-1 out of their eager exploration. With speed that took them by surprise, large slabs of dark stone slid down to cover each of the twelve doorways.

Teal'c rushed to the nearest door. It was already too low for anyone to try and escape through it, so he stuck his staff weapon under it. That didn't slow down the inevitably closing door at all. Instead, the staff snapped neatly in half, and the part that remained under the falling stone was crushed into tiny pieces.

The three other members of the team gazed at Teal'c, each with a dumbstruck and somewhat guilty expression. Each of them was touching something.

"I will not ask which one of you caused this, for that would be difficult to tell, and irrelevant in the current situation."

"Don't we ever learn?" Daniel remarked sarcastically.

Teal'c was right. Maybe it was Sam trying to get the ZPM out that had closed the doors, or maybe Mitchell had pressed a button on the plate, or then maybe Daniel had done something with this, whatever it was he was holding. It looked like a large antique belt buckle, except it was made of a silvery material like the plates and platters, with black decorations that might or might not be used to control whatever this was. So far, he hadn't been able to turn it on. Or maybe he had, but he just hadn't noticed it, and that had been the reason why the doors had closed. He couldn't know for sure.

Daniel dropped the artifact on the table and turned to face the walls. As he looked, rows of text began to form in the previously smooth stone surfaces, as if carved by invisible, impossibly fast-working chisels, accompanied by a silent, scraping sound, like sand blown against stone.

In less than a minute, each of the twelve door slabs was carved with a text in a different alphabet. He recognized some of them right away, such as Egyptian hieroglyphs, the heavily modified, yet Latin-based script of the nomadic people on P4T-3G6, something written with the modern alphabet in a language that he wasn't certain of, and one text in Ancient. That was the one most likely to tell how they could reopen the doors, so he decided to look at it first.

"All right... I think this is just what we need," he said to the others. "It says that the room has been sealed to protect everyone and everything from the great power... No, wait, not power, it's... Energy, I think that's it. From the great energy of the--this is a word I've never seen before..." There was some stone dust on the text, and he reached to brush it off.

As his hand touched the stone, there was a blinding flash of light, a searing pain climbed up his arm, and the jolt tossed him away from the wall. He lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

Jackson fell down right at Carter's feet, and she crouched instantly down to check him.

"Rule one from now on! No touching! Hands off everything alien!" Mitchell yelled, as he ran closer. So far, every time someone had touched something in this room, things had taken a turn for the worse. Just how bad this was exactly, he couldn't be sure, before Carter told him.

"He's stopped breathing. Pulse is erratic," she said, and without wasting more time, started mouth to mouth.

Teal'c had knelt next to Jackson as well, his usually placid face showing open concern. Mitchell stayed a few steps away, with the oddest feeling that he was an outsider. SG-1 had encountered numerous emergency situations of several kinds out in the field, but never before in this composition, and under his command. Of course he was worried for Jackson, as one of the team, and as a friend, but Teal'c, Jackson and Carter had over eight years of common history. It would take a long time for Mitchell to become as close to them, if it happened at all.

It wouldn't simply end here, he didn't believe that for one second.

"Come on, Daniel..." he muttered, instinctively using Jackson's first name.

Carter paused to check Jackson's breathing again. This time, she cast a relieved smile in Mitchell's direction, a smile he was quick to return.

A few seconds later, Jackson's eyes opened wide. "God... What was that?" he gasped.

"It seemed like a powerful electric shock," Teal'c suggested.

"How're you feeling, Daniel?" Carter asked.

"Sam, I'm... My hand... I don't think I can move my fingers. I can't even feel them." The way he said it suggested that it probably hurt like hell, too, but he just didn't want to say that.

As Carter turned to take a look, Mitchell followed her gaze. The tips of Jackson's fingers were burned black, and the rest of the hand was red and swollen, seeping blood. He tried to raise his hand so he could see it for himself, but Carter pressed it down at the elbow.

"Daniel, just take it easy. It doesn't look good, but I'm sure doctor Lam will be able to fix it once we get back. In the mean time, you'll have to do with my bandaging and pain medication."

Mitchell grimaced. Once they got back. Getting back might depend largely on Jackson, since he was the only one who was able to read the texts on the walls. He just really didn't want to start kicking and dragging Jackson up to work again. They were not in a hurry. With the standard rations they had, they'd last a few days in here. Or maybe the way out would have nothing at all to do with the writings. Mitchell would do his best to figure that out. If there was another way out, he'd find it.

Apparently, Jackson didn't need anyone to tell him what to do. Despite the fact that he kept biting his teeth together, grimacing and occasionally grunting all the way through Carter's bandaging the burned skin of his hand, he started struggling to get up as soon as she was done. Both Teal'c and Carter tried to restrain him.

"Sam, Teal'c," Jackson resisted. "That Ancient text's important. It might just be the only thing that'll tell us how to get out. I've got to finish reading it! Please."

Mitchell frowned, but he did agree with Jackson. "I'm sorry, guys, but I think he really should finish the translation."

"That may indeed be true," Teal'c said, and since Sam nodded as well, the two of them helped Jackson up.

"Just stay far from that wall," Mitchell added.

Standing up made Daniel feel light-headed, and he had the sickening feeling that his heart kept skipping beats. His hand was on fire. Sam hadn't even allowed him to look at it properly, so it had to be bad. Really bad. Third degree burns, most likely. Now it was entirely covered in bandages. So much for taking notes while translating, he'd certainly not be able to hold a pen.

"All right," Daniel turned his attention to the text. Nothing like an all-important translation to take his thoughts away from all the discomfort. "So, yes. Just like I thought. We've been sealed in to protect everyone from the great power of the--something--an unknown word--that may be released in... tests, or tries, I think it means experiments. We're caught in an Ancient isolation lab."

"Is that all there is?" Teal'c asked.

"No, it goes on. It says that once the experiments are concluded and it is safe to leave the room, one must simply touch the walls from first to last. Of course, there's a warning at the end: 'Beware, you who come with the wrong intentions, lacking the wisdom and knowledge that is required.' Apparently, that was my problem. Didn't have enough wisdom and knowledge."

"You simply touched the wrong wall," Sam said. "So, the Ancient text can't be the first one... From first to last--I guess that means putting them in chronological order, and some of the other texts has to be older than it. So, it's a puzzle, and we've just got to figure out the right order."

"...and if we don't get it right, then the walls will electrocute us, or something equally unpleasant," Mitchell grimaced.

"Yeah..." Daniel breathed, hanging his head. "And not that I'd like to sound depressing, but I'm not sure I can translate all of them. I think--and I'm not even sure--that that one over there is in Polish, and this here is a form of Brahmi script unfamiliar to me--and there are a few texts written in scripts I don't think I've met before. Translating them without any idea of context is, well, as much as I hate to say it, pretty much impossible."

"Still, Daniel, you don't actually need to translate them all completely, do you? We just need to know the order, so can't you deduce which one came first?" Sam tried to sound encouraging.

"Maybe. But I can't be certain. Take this hieroglyphic text, for example. Now, I recognized it right away as the Great Hymn to the Aten from the 18th dynasty, a well known text. But had I not known the alphabet well enough to read it and recognize the text... The hieroglyphic writing was in use for thousands of years. Just knowing that this is something written in ancient Egyptian would not be enough to place it chronologically among the texts. And all I can say about that Brahmi text is that such a script was used sometime between 5th century BC and 4th century AD... And that's talking about a script that I can recognize, unlike several others."

"Jackson, you can figure this out. You're the best there is for a job like this," Mitchell told him. "Just rest a while before you get to work, and take your time, we're not in a hurry."

Daniel sighed and sat down on the floor. Sam offered him a blanket, though he wasn't feeling particularly cold.

"Sam... I really don't think I can translate it all," he told her. "In the end, it might come down to trial and error... Just trying to touch the walls in some possible order, hoping that it's the right one, and that no one gets killed if it's not."

Trapped. Caught. Imprisoned. Mitchell had been in numerous tough situations, but this was something completely new. Stuck inside an alien research facility, a room filled with alien devices and things, but strictly decided not to touch any of them. Just leaning against a wall in this place might be lethal. There was no furniture in the room aside from the tables around the large block of ice, and since the tables were full of stuff, he thought it best to stay away from them. As for the pedestal under the ice slab, it was too near to the device itself.

He could either sit on the floor or, when he grew too anxious, pace around the room, keeping a safe distance to the walls.

Mitchell had tried to think of possible ways of getting out. He had walked around the room so many times already that he was afraid he'd start wearing a canyon to the floor. At least that'd make it more interesting. He had already examined every inch of it, and it was all the same, a kind of dark-brown rock, just like the walls.

The ceiling was different, glowing with white light. He had located a circular area in it that wasn't glowing, and looked different from the rest. It might be a hatch of some kind, but it was so high up that reaching it would require either a ladder or some amazing acrobatics, a real human pyramid. And that would be very hard to do without touching the walls.

He tried to cling to the faint hope that the people from the SGC would come and get them out. SG-1 was already late from their first scheduled check with the folks back at home. Mitchell hadn't asked Carter, but he could guess on his own that the walls were more than just regular rock. They'd probably not let a radio signal through. Their radios had stayed silent since they got stuck in here.

Even if Stargate Command figured out that something was wrong, they wouldn't be able to get through. Since they'd not been sure how the iris on this gate worked, SG-1 had taken the Ancient GDO with them. It was still in Jackson's backpack. So, unless the tech crew at the SGC first managed to find a way to override the iris and then to break through the Ancient isolation walls, they'd not be getting any help from the outside.

The walls were doors. The most reasonable, logical way out would be through them. Shooting them would be stupid, with the huge risk that they would reflect anything shot at them and send things ricocheting around the room. So, getting the doors to open would require them to figure out the right order. Or, rather, would require Jackson to figure it out. If he could.

Jackson wasn't looking too good. He had hardly said a word after he'd translated the Ancient text. He'd asked Sam to dig out a bunch of books and notebooks from his backpack. A real library. Mitchell could hardly believe he always carried all that around. And now Jackson was sitting on the floor, books scattered all about him, his injured right hand resting on his left shoulder. He used his left hand to awkwardly leaf through his older notes. Every now and then he'd turn to look at one of the walls and frown or shake his head to himself.

Teal'c had sat down next to Jackson, hardly saying much either, but offering his silent support. He really had a talent for that.

Mitchell had always considered himself a patient man. He'd never have gotten where he was now without years and years of hard work. When he had been injured in the battle above Antarctica, he'd went through countless hours of strenuous exercise, first learning to walk again, then struggling to regain the strength he had had before the crash.

Now, he really didn't feel all that patient. This silence was maddening. And they hadn't even been here that long yet. A few hours. Time seemed to be moving so slowly when there was nothing to do but wait and think.

Carter was still trying to figure out the ice device. Now that they'd decided not to touch anything, she kept her distance and concentrated on scanning it with every bit of equipment she had. So far, she'd only come up with the fact that it really was powered by a Zero Point Module, but they were too afraid to try and screw it out. She and Teal'c had discussed the possibility that the device was related to the quantum mirror that could transport people to alternate universes. Even if it was, they'd probably need a controller to activate it.

If the thing was the quantum mirror's big brother, it would offer one possible way out. If Jackson couldn't figure out the texts, then they might have to try that. On the other hand, they might just end up in another room just like this, just as closed and sealed.

Trying to think of something even remotely useful to do, Mitchell walked to the nearest table and stared at the things on it. As if he could understand anything about any of them. Especially without even touching anything.

"But maybe, just maybe, I was a bit too strict to say that we shouldn't touch anything at all," he thought aloud.

"Sorry?" Carter said, turning her face away from the silvery casing at the side of the mirror to look at him.

"I was just thinking... If this really is a lab where they studied that huge block of ice, and this stuff on the tables is their research equipment, why would they booby trap it?"

"I think you've got a point. The walls would both keep the rest of the world safe in case something went wrong with the experiments, and deal with any unwanted visitors. So they might not need extra protection... On the other hand, maybe they would have set extra safeguards on their equipment, such as requiring the person handling them to have the Ancient gene."

"Yeah... But what if one of the things on that table really is the key to that mirror-whatever-device-thingy, and it turns out being our best chance for getting out? I think we really need to know if it's safe to touch that stuff. And I guess there's just one way to be sure. Keep an eye on me, will you?" he asked, and reached out his hand to touch the nearest plate.

He didn't feel anything special. Nothing happened. He grabbed the plate and lifted it from the table, turned it around in his hands. Nothing.

He had wasted hours walking around the room when all this stuff had been waiting here all the time.

"All right, people. I think this might actually be safe. Carter, care to take a look at this stuff?"

Daniel had managed to translate most of the text written in the language of P4T-3G6, also known as Vis Uban, the world where he had descended. He'd only spent a short while there. Luckily, the language was actually a creole mixing Latin and a Semitic language he couldn't name, but which was close enough to Arabic that he understood most of it.

Still, it didn't help at all. The text was a fable, telling a simple story of a donkey and an oraf, which was apparently some kind of a bird. It could've been written a thousand years ago, or just yesterday. He couldn't say. He simply didn't know enough of Vis Uban's recent history and the culture of the nomads who now inhabited it.

At least he had translated it. That had to count for something. And he did know that the nomad named Shamda had told stories much like this one, so it wasn't as if he had never heard of anything like this.

He turned to look at another wall, one of the scripts he just couldn't place. The signs were abstract as far as he could see, no clear references to actual objects, and looked simple and geometrical. And didn't say anything to him.

They knew the Ancients could travel in time. There was possibly a timeship right behind one of the doors. Maybe some of these texts were from the future. Then he'd have no way of knowing the exact order.

For a while, he had started feeling better. He'd stayed on the floor, doing nothing but thinking and reading his notes. He'd actually managed to calm down. The painkillers had taken the worst edge off from the burning in his hand, leaving just a dull ache. One thing they couldn't do away with was the horrid smell of burnt flesh. And now that a few hours had passed, he felt it was all coming back with a vengeance. He had to keep his thoughts away from it. He was afraid he'd panic, and then everything would feel all wrong again.

Teal'c had left his side, and was now talking with Sam and Mitchell about something. They seemed to be quite eager about it. Daniel hadn't been paying attention. He had tried not to think of them either. He had come to the unpleasant conclusion that the most likely reason for this lockdown had to do with the large central device, since that had probably been the main object for study in here. That would make it clearly Sam's fault that they were stuck, since she had tried to get that ZPM from the base of the device. And the last thing Daniel wanted to do was to start blaming anyone. So he just ignored that as well.

"Daniel?" Sam had suddenly emerged in front of him.

"What's up?"

"I think you should take a look at this. It's like a hand-held computer, there's lots of text in Ancient in it."

She gave him a rectangular artifact that looked like a tablet, except that the text wasn't carved on the surface, but looked as if it had been printed on it. It had a set of buttons that allowed the reader to scroll and switch pages.

"I thought we weren't supposed to touch anything?"

"Mitchell tried the things on the table, and it seems it's safe, after all. Didn't you notice that?"

Daniel shrugged. No, he really hadn't been watching, not even listening. Now that he listened, he could hear Mitchell's voice coming from behind him.

"Wait, T--there's something on the floor. What's that, a trash can?"

Daniel turned to look, and saw Mitchell crouched next to a silvery bowl. It had a few stones set on the outside, near the rim. He pressed one, causing a loud zap that made Daniel start. With that, he felt his pulse speeding up, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid all along. Sam had told him that arrhythmias were a known complication of electric shocks. And that was supposing that whatever had hit him had been regular electricity, not some odd Ancient weapon. He'd felt perfectly normal when he had just stayed still and cool. Well, except for his hand, of course.

Apparently nothing bad had happened. Nothing at all. Mitchell wasn't hurt, and Daniel really needed to calm down.

He watched Mitchell drop something, an empty chocolate bar wrapper, into the bowl, and press the button again. Another zap, but this time, Daniel had known to expect it.

"All right. A pretty effective trash can. Zaps away all the trash. Or how about this. Maybe it's an Ancient chamber pot."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow in that expression that Daniel had seen more often than he could count.

"Just a thought," Mitchell shrugged. "At least it does away with that one problem. Seriously. That's a good thing."

Apparently Mitchell had, just like Daniel, come to the conclusion that they might need to spend a long time inside these walls. A very long time. Unless he could figure out the texts. No, don't go there, Daniel told himself, and took a deep breath. He was still holding the Ancient computer, and it too had a lot of text for him to translate. All in Ancient, so he should be able to do it quite easily.

He looked at the page that was open right now. It seemed to describe an experiment that hadn't been successful. Activated the--that unknown word again, which he thought pointed to the large device--but there was still not enough power. He turned the page, and read a description of something else, a bit of time travel with the timeship. And something about gathering samples from an interesting planet. Then he came across a page with the victorious announcement that we have finally been able to generate enough power to keep the device active, and it works just as expected. This is undoubtedly the greatest discovery of the Duodecim so far.

He'd probably find an accurate description of the device, what it was and what it did, if he'd read through everything in here. It'd take some time, since there was a lot of text that had nothing to do with it. It was obviously a diary, a log, kept by one of the Duodecim, describing what they had been up to. An extremely interesting piece of information, except that he wasn't sure it'd help them get out.

Daniel pressed the page-turning button until it would go no further. The last page.

The rumors of the plague have been confirmed, and it is spreading fast.

The plague. If this place had been here at the time of the plague, then it was much older than the Avalon caves.

We have not been contaminated yet, but only hours ago a party came through the stargate carrying the disease. We have gathered to the--another word he didn't know, though he had a good guess for its meaning--with our belongings, and initiated the containment.

"Sam," he called out, "What do you call a geometrical shape with twelve corners? A duodecagon?"

"Dodecagon, actually."

The text had said Duodecangulus, but the meaning was clear. The twelve corners, which obviously pointed to the shape of this room. The modern English version actually sounded better to his ear. "Dodecagon. I think that's what they call this place."

Once we are ready, we will travel through the device, and escape the grim future that awaits all our race. There has been dispute and disagreement among us. Some think we should not leave, that we should offer our knowledge and try to help, but we are among the last who are not infected, and with the party waiting for us in the stargate room, we cannot open the doors again without becoming infected ourselves.

They had turned on the lockdown millions of years ago, but when SG-1 had come through, the doors had been open. Either the Duodecim had not left after all, or then someone had opened the doors after that. His heart leaped, and didn't quite catch its previous beat. Of course, that made him more anxious, and made it race even faster. He pressed the elbow of his injured hand against his chest, willing it to slow down, and tried to concentrate on the text.

There was a row of small circles in the text, indicating a break, but no new date.

We are finally ready, and we have agreed on what we will take with us. It is not much, for already we are testing the limits of what the device can transport. I shall leave my book behind, in case some survive the plague and wish to know what became of the Duodecim. Now we must go, and take with us our legacy, the memory and knowledge of all that we have achieved. Perhaps one day we will return and rebuild this galaxy, this time, this universe.

On behalf of the Duodecim,

Feiara

"I don't know, T--this makes no sense. This doesn't look like surveillance equipment. It looks like household stuff. And this looks like a shaver. Not going to try it out, though," Mitchell said, dropping the Ancient-shaver-wannabe on the table again.

"No, no, it makes perfect sense," Jackson's voice suddenly came from the other end of the room, sounding strained. "It's household stuff. Everyday things. They were packing. The Ancients who worked here escaped the plague through that mirror device, and they couldn't take it all with them. They just ran, and left most of it behind."

"Did not the plague strike the Ancients millions of years ago?" Teal'c asked.

Teal'c was walking towards Jackson, and Mitchell followed him. Carter was already there, but she seemed to be going through their medical supplies instead of fully concentrating on whatever Jackson had to say.

"It did, and according to everything that's in here, this place is that old," Jackson explained, waving the stone tablet Carter had recognized as a hand-held computer. "They closed the doors and left. Ran away. Someone has opened them after that. Or they came back and left again through some other means."

"And ignored all this stuff they had left behind? Probably not. I'd guess it was someone else. Some other Ancients, maybe," Mitchell suggested.

"I don't know. Really don't know. The last writing in this is from the time of the plague. So the doors can be opened. Just maybe not by us. Not by me."

The way Jackson was talking, the way he looked, he seemed panicky beyond what Mitchell would have expected of someone so used to difficult situations. Of course, it was probably more than just the general situation.

"Jackson, maybe you'd better lie down," Mitchell told him. To his surprise, Jackson didn't even resist, just sighed and fell heavily down on his back.

Carter finally finished her inventory and was by Jackson's side again, checking his vitals.

"I'm going to take look at your hand, Daniel. I'll change the gauze, so I'll have to unwrap the old one. It probably won't feel nice, but try and stay still. Teal'c, if you could...." Carter nodded towards Jackson.

Teal'c returned the nod, and knelt by Jackson's head. "Perhaps you could tell us more of the contents of the Ancient diary, Daniel Jackson."

"Not much to tell yet... I've just read a very small part of it, Teal'c--God--Carter, ow-"

Mitchell felt perfectly useless again. Carter had more medical training than the rest of them, so the job of seeing to any injuries fell to her naturally. As for keeping company to Jackson while she was doing her job, Mitchell knew Teal'c could do it better than him. He could try to say something, of course, but it might not help a whole lot. So he stayed back, again.

Teal'c was trying to distract Jackson, keeping his thoughts on the tablet-computer. "Was there any indication of the author's person?"

"Someone called Feiara. That's all I know. Haven't encountered that name before..."

"And this Feiara was one of the group known as the Duodecim?"

Jackson wasn't looking at Teal'c. Instead he was trying to see his hand, or pull it away from Carter, maybe both. "Why won't you even let me see it? How bad is it, really? I still can't feel everything--I'm not missing fingers, am I?"

"You are not," Teal'c replied. "However, it is badly burned. Your seeing it would not change anything."

"Yeah, you're right, it wouldn't, so why shouldn't I?"

Luckily, Carter had already finished, and let go of the now newly bound hand. She cast a worried glance at Mitchell, and gestured towards the other end of the room. They moved away from Jackson, leaving Teal'c to see to him.

"What's up with Jackson?" he asked in a low voice when they were as far as they could get in this limited space.

"My medical training's really basic, and I don't have much to work with in here. I'm concerned that the electric shock might've messed up the normal electrical activity of his heart, but that might not be the case, and we have no way of being sure. It might just be because of shock from the burns, or then it might not be serious. If it's not, it'll probably settle in a few hours."

"And if it is?"

"Worst case scenario, he could go into v-fib and die. And even if all that's just me being overly cautious, he's still dangerously injured. The burns on his hand are bad, and there's a big risk that it'll get gangrenous, so that when we get back, they won't -- they'll have to..." she shook her head. Wouldn't say that Jackson might loose that hand completely if they couldn't get help very soon. "Of course, shock is life-threatening on its own, if it gets any worse. If we just had some way out of here that wouldn't require Daniel to do all the work..."

"He doesn't need to do all the work, Carter. Just the thinking part. We'll get out. I'll see to that."

Mitchell knew this was probably not his brightest idea up to date, but he couldn't just stand and wait and do nothing. The doors were the way out that made most sense. Maybe Jackson had already figured out the order. If he hadn't, they'd just have to try one and see if it'd work. Maybe they'd get lucky.

At least Mitchell could try and be more prepared than Jackson had been. "Sam? Got any rubber gloves? Insulation tape? What'd you use for protection against one of those electric jolts?"

She stared at him with wide eyes. "With all due respect, sir--I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Someone's got to do something to get us out of here, and that someone is going to be me."

Carter bit her lip, but nodded. "I've got rubber gloves. And tape. Our shoes should offer pretty good protection too..."

He was already untying his shoelaces. In a few minutes, he'd managed to wrap one gloved hand with tape, and picked up the shoe with it. He wrapped his jacket around it for extra insulation. Felt silly, but might work. Now, he just needed to know where to start.

"Jackson. I need your best guess for the right order of walls. I don't want to hear you don't know it. At least you've got a better guess than the rest of us. Just give me that. Which wall comes first?"

Just like Mitchell had expected, Jackson shook his head. "I really can't say. Don't try it. You'll just get hurt. I don't know." He was panting now, and his face looked grayish. All the more reasons to hurry up with this.

"Jackson, I'm giving you a direct order. Tell me which comes first. We know it's not the Ancient wall. Is it the Egyptian? Maybe I'll just try that, see if it's right..."

"No, no, no!" Jackson yelled. "It's not the Egyptian! Ancient is millions of years old, Egyptian's only thousands. It's got to be one of the texts I can't read. If you're going to do it anyway... Try the second one to the right from the Ancient. The one with circles and lines and squares."

"Thank you!" Mitchell shouted his reply, and sought the wall. He knew what the Ancient text looked like, and the second one to the right from it did match Jackson's description.

Carter was standing nearby, watching him, and Teal'c had helped Jackson up to a seated position so he could see as well.

Mitchell stretched out his supposedly well insulated hand and pushed the wall with his jacket-wrapped shoe.

No jolt, no flash, no electricity. Instead, the wall gave in slightly, and the text started to glow a faint, white light, just like the ceiling.

"You got it right, Jackson, right at the first try! What's next?"

This was mad. Completely mad. Totally insane. Daniel really, really had no idea of the complete chronological order of the walls. He hadn't had enough time, hadn't even translated all those texts he thought he might be able to understand. And now Mitchell was shouting at him to tell which wall came next, as if he couldn't get it that Daniel didn't know. Mitchell had said just a few hours ago that they were not in a hurry, but now, it really looked like he was desperate to get out.

"Try the Ancient. That's probably second oldest," he told Mitchell, though he knew that it could just as well be one of those texts in an unknown script. But no, Ancient was right. The wall lit up, same as the first one.

"You're doing good, Jackson. Next one?"

"Could be Egyptian. Can't know for sure. Mitchell, you don't have to do this--if you'd just give me more time, I could be more certain..."

"No, I'm doing it right now. Just watch me," he said irritably, ran to the wall carved with hieroglyphs, and hit it. It lit up. Right again. And then he was anxiously shouting and asking what should be next, ready to touch whichever wall Daniel told him to, no matter how dangerous it was.

To make things worse, Daniel could well imagine that he was the main reason Mitchell was so rash. He had tried his best to keep them from worrying, had tried to appear calm and unconcerned, but it was becoming harder with every passing second. He had needed to see how Mitchell was doing, so he had asked Teal'c to help him up, but just sitting up had made him awfully woozy. His heart was thumping madly, as if struggling to burst right out of his chest.

Sam still wouldn't let him see his burned hand, and he was growing more and more certain that no matter what they said, it was damaged beyond repair, and all Doctor Lam could do if they ever got back would be to cut it off. And while one part of his mind thought that, the other just couldn't imagine such a thing happening, couldn't imagine living without his right hand. The very idea made him feel more sick.

"Come on, Jackson. What's next?"

Telling Mitchell that he didn't know or wasn't sure was no good, so Daniel just had to guess. "Brahmi script. It's left to the one that's in Polish."

Mitchell lifted the shoe to touch the wall. It didn't light up.

He leaped aside instantly, trying to dodge a bright yellow-orange bolt that lashed out from the wall, looking a lot like a staff blast. Of course, he wasn't fast enough. No human could've been. Still, as far as Daniel could see, it hit Mitchell in the shoulder, instead of landing point-blank on his chest, which would've happened without his fast reaction. He went down with a pained grunt.

Daniel slumped to the floor as well. There. Great. Fine. He had made that one mistake, and Mitchell had paid the price. God. He had been stupid. It had clearly not been electricity this time, and what reason had they had to expect that it would be the same each time? Maybe the punishment was different for each wall. Not that it mattered what it was. Mitchell might die, all because of him. His best guess had not been good enough.

Teal'c had left his side now, rushing to help Mitchell, same as Sam. From where he was lying, Daniel couldn't see them. But he had to. He needed to know if he had killed Mitchell. He used his uninjured hand to push himself up, but even seated, he still couldn't see more than Mitchell's feet, with Teal'c's broad back blocking his view.

Gathering what strength he had left, Daniel fought to get up on his feet. He caught a glimpse of Mitchell's upper body, stripped of clothes, covered in blood, and Teal'c's hands pressed on the wound. But his vision was failing fast, taken over by a blaze of bright colors. The dizziness was so overwhelming that he couldn't tell whether he was still standing or falling, or if he had already hit the floor.

Mitchell wasn't dead. Daniel could hear him shouting in a hoarse voice, "Jackson--Daniel--no! Looks worse than it is. Just stay there!"

And then everything turned black.

Way to go, Mitchell. He had really screwed up big time. Instead of getting them anywhere nearer to escape from this place, he'd just made things worse. And it wasn't just that he was hurt.

Of course, he hated being hurt. Hated being shot at with who knows what Ancient stuff. Hell, it felt like someone had blown a hole right through his left shoulder, but he told himself that he was tough and could handle it. After all, it was nothing compared to what he'd went through in the Antarctic. He'd be walking around without any trouble at all as soon as they managed to stop the bleeding and wrap some gauze around the wound.

What he really hated was that in getting hurt, he'd probably made things worse for Jackson, too. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Jackson would be blaming himself now, thinking that he'd failed Mitchell, while no one else thought that was the case. Mitchell had forced him to guess, and if anyone was to blame, then it should be Mitchell. Not that anyone was going to be blamed. Starting a fight when they were stuck here indefinitely would be a very bad idea.

From where he was lying, Mitchell suddenly spotted something moving in his peripheral vision, and turned his head. Jackson was struggling to get up, to see what had happened. He was wavering. He shouldn't be getting up. Mitchell tried to shout to him, to tell him that it was all right, that he should just stay where he was. He didn't know if Jackson heard it. And then Jackson was crashing towards the floor. Once again. Mitchell was quickly losing count on how many times he had witnessed him faint. Only this time, it wasn't because of Vala and the bracelets, and they were nowhere near to the infirmary.

Teal'c was crouched by Mitchell's side with his back turned towards Jackson, so he couldn't see that anything had happened. Carter was by his other side, but all her attention was on his wound. She wasn't looking in the right direction.

"Sam--T--one of you--go check if Jackson's OK-"

Carter lifted her gaze from his shoulder, and he could see her expression go from worried to extremely worried, veering towards dismayed. But she had her hands literally full of work. She couldn't just stop halfway through bandaging him.

"I will go, Colonel Carter," Teal'c said.

Before Teal'c had time to give any news, Jackson spoke up himself, revealing that he was quite alive, for now.

"Teal'c? How long?" he asked.

"If you mean to ask how long you remained unconscious, it was merely seconds."

"Mitchell?"

"Colonel Mitchell is being tended to, and he is not in immediate danger of death."

"Unlike Jackson himself," Mitchell noted to Carter in a low voice.

Carter shrugged, but she did call out, "Teal'c, could you bring him over here?"

"If we just got ourselves a pair of beds, some tubes and wires and things that go beep, we could call this an infirmary," Mitchell joked, as Teal'c set Jackson down next to him.

Carter was still working on Mitchell's wound, so Teal'c started checking over Jackson.

Mitchell turned his head to one side to look at Jackson face to face, and found he was staring right back.

"Sorry, Jackson, I got the blonde nurse."

"So... you're clearly not dead yet."

"Yeah, as if you didn't know it takes more than one Ancient staff-blast-wannabe to get rid of me. And I've got this hunch that you're not dead either."

"I guess not," Jackson said, and paused for a while, frowning, with the look that he wasn't sure if he should go on. But he did. "For a while there, I thought I was."

"You and everyone else in this room, Jackson. From no on, no sudden movements, no standing up, definitely no walking, all right? Carter?"

"I'll second that. Fainting like that when trying to stand up is probably due to low blood pressure, which in turn might be due to a lot of things. I think we'd all feel more secure if you'd just stay still, Daniel."

"Sam--how am I supposed to figure out the texts on the walls if all I can see is the ceiling?"

"So, maybe we'll have to bend the rules a bit," Mitchell answered before Carter got there. "But you could always start with that diary, right?"

"Right. There's years and years of notes in it, so it might take months to finish it."

"Just read the good parts, Jackson. The ones about opening the doors, and maybe that ice-mirror-device."

What makes this planet particularly interesting is its high gravity. It is curious and surprising that an intelligent form of life has actually developed in such an environment. Their physical appearance is different from most we have encountered, distinctly non-humanoid. These inhabitants call their word the Rowgh and themselves the Roskw. Their way of life is simple and nomadic, closely connected to the animals they call the Ler. Their material culture is not very complex. Ioannes insists that we go and see what becomes of them later. He is eager to learn how their language will evolve, when they will develop writing, and what it shall be like.

Daniel dropped the tablet on the floor and closed his eyes. He was wasting time. One of the Duodecim had an interest in languages. His name was Ioannes, and he was not the one who had written all this. If one of the devices on the tables contained Ioannes's notes, that might offer the key to understanding the texts and getting out.

He didn't want to ask others to run errands for him, but they surely wouldn't let him go and skim through the things on the tables himself. It was annoying, really, that though Mitchell's injury was every bit as spectacular as Daniel's, there we was, leaning against his pack and playing cards with Teal'c, while Daniel got the tiptoe treatment. Everyone was so afraid he'd just drop dead all of a sudden that they wouldn't even talk to him in a normal tone, let alone about anything serious or distantly exciting.

Not that he could blame them. When he had passed out, he had, for a moment, thought that that was it. Instead, he was feeling better again, for the moment, at least in some strange meaning of the word. At least he didn't feel his heartbeat unless he purposely concentrated on it. On the other hand, he had happily accepted a few blankets, and he was still feeling cold and shivery. Thirsty, too, especially since the others had been as cautious with giving him water as they were with everything else, and they were already counting their supplies and saving them so they could last as long as possible.

The longer it took him to arrange the walls, the longer they'd need to spend here. He didn't know how long they'd been here already--he had smashed his watch when he'd fallen down after he'd touched the wall. It had certainly been several hours. Maybe half a day. Couldn't be a full day yet.

Ioannes. The Ancient linguist. Daniel could do with his knowledge right now. So he'd just have to ask for someone's help.

"Sam? What're you up to?"

"Working on one of the devices on a table."

"Could you try and look for something for me? Anything that looks like another of these computers, or some other way of writing down notes?"

"Sure thing."

If there was something there, Sam could definitely find it. Daniel picked up the diary again. He scrolled to the next page, which revealed a detailed description of the physiology of the Roskw, which mostly resembled huge worms that had limbs and big brains. A biologist would've probably found it extremely interesting, but at the moment, Daniel just couldn't care less. He scrolled on, through several pages of notes on the Rowgh planet, its climate, its geography, and a few comments on how the visits had gone from the point of view of the observers. Still nothing that might be even remotely useful. He skimmed through the next pages, until one sentence caught his attention.

We have known and studied technologies that allow us to visit alternate universes long before we entered this galaxy. The device is stable, the transition simple and without risks to the traveler, unless they should remain too long in a universe with their counterpart.

The quantum mirror. Familiar stuff. Daniel had been there himself, visited several alternate universes at different times. But maybe this would reveal something new.

The universes we have accessed so far have never been too far removed from our own, and the scope that the standard device offers has been tried and found limited. Some, Ansoi among them, have long argued that this is not enough, that it only scrapes the surface of all the possible, infinite universes that actually exist. That since the very beginning of our universe there has been the possibility of changes that could have altered its shape in countless ways. That there must be universes out there where our very race has never been born, universes where the vast world, the countless stars and belts of galaxies are and will ever remain lifeless and empty, and others which are the home to forms of life far stranger than what we have seen.

Yes, Daniel could certainly go with that. That there might be universes out there far stranger than those where Teal'c was still Apophis's first prime and Jack and Sam were married. Universes where there might be no Earth, or no humans. And others where Earth and humans were drastically different from what was now. He was anxious to see if the text was going where he thought it was.

Ever since the Duodecim first came together, Ansoi as one of the founding members, one of its main goals has been to find if these universes truly are there, and to discover a way to visit them. Thus their first project, one of the greatest, was to travel far, far back in time to build the Dodecagon, as near to the beginning of everything as they dared, so it should remain, empty, perfectly sheltered, shielded and hidden from outsiders, in all those universes we would visit later. But the device itself still remains inoperative, after years of research.

The large device really was what they had suspected all along--an advanced version of the quantum mirror. It was the one thing around which this entire research base had originally been built. They had actually traveled in time to build it when the universe was still young, so it would exist in all times and universes. It was amazing, grandiose, working not on a galactic or a universal scale, but multi-universal.

Daniel stopped reading. He knew he was getting agitated, even more so than before. No matter how the others had tried to protect him from it, he could do it all by himself, protected or not. This was a discovery far wilder than even the stargate system, and here they were, stuck inside it, unable to get out, to tell anyone of it. They might all die here right next to it and no one would ever know.

And all of a sudden, he was falling again, loosing all ability to concentrate and think properly. It had happened so fast that he could hardly believe it. His awe and amazement were fading into panic, only it was different than before.

There was a heavy weight on his chest, like one of those cover stones that had crushed his parents. Against it, his heart was fluttering like the wings of a butterfly crunched in a slowly closing fist.

He hadn't even told the others. They still didn't know what the device was. Might never know.

The diary fell to the floor with a clatter.

Playing cards with Teal'c wasn't a whole lot of fun. It wasn't just that he had the perfect poker face, he was also a very good player. Mitchell kept losing to him. It was doubly annoying combined with the continuous sting in his shoulder that made it extremely difficult to keep his cards steady in his shaky and weak hands. But at least time was passing more quickly when he had something to do, annoying as it might be.

Mitchell had placed himself so that though they gave Jackson all the peace and quiet he could get in this room, he could still see him all the time. Teal'c had done the same. They both saw how the hand that had been holding the Ancient computer above Jackson's face went limp. Maybe it was nothing, again, just a passing bout of weakness, but in the current situation, Mitchell couldn't help thinking the worst every time something went wrong.

Carter had been on her way towards Jackson, carrying a load of Ancient devices gathered from the tables. She tossed them all to the floor, ran to Jackson's side, checked for breathing and pulse--and turned to look at Teal'c and Mitchell, shaking her head.

Talking about cold, sinking feelings, this came pretty close to crash landing an F-302 on the Antarctic and sitting there, alone, freezing.

Teal'c had already leaped to help Carter. Now, it was Carter doing mouth-to-mouth and Teal'c doing compressions, working in perfect coordination as if they had done it before.

For the first time since he'd been hit, Mitchell stood up. His feet were every bit as shaky as his hands, but he told them to behave, since they were not injured, and he had to get moving.

He made his way to the nearest table, leaned on it and gazed at the things on it. They hadn't checked through every single bit yet. If these were everyday stuff and items that the Ancients had thought they might need when running from their world to escape the plague, wouldn't they probably include medical supplies? Ancient healing devices? Not that he had any idea what they might look like, and they might require the Ancient gene from anyone trying to use them.

He cast a glance at Jackson. Carter shook her head again. No change.

He gazed at the table. Silver platters. Silver plates. Small silver things with black decorations. Large silver things with large stones in them. And no idea about what to do with any of them. Last time Mitchell had tried to make things better, he'd ended up making things worse. If he'd start punching buttons at random, he might do it again.

He felt his legs giving in, and put both elbows on the table for support. No, he really wasn't going to collapse, too, so they'd have to worry for him and let Jackson go. No way. Agony flaring in his shoulder, hands clutching the table's edge, he slid down to the floor.

"Carter? Jackson?" he called out.

Carter looked like she was about to break out crying, or just break apart in general. They had all been on edge these hours they'd spent here. The fact that everyone had stayed so calm so far proved how professional they all were, and how much they had faced before. But if they lost Jackson... No, not going to happen.

"Keep going, Sam, Teal'c... Just keep going. Daniel's staying right here with us."

If Carter should give in and say Jackson was beyond their help, then Mitchell would step in and go on himself, no matter how hard it'd be to do CPR with half his shoulder blown off.

He started crawling towards Jackson.

A strange, faint sound rang in his ears, and at first he thought it was just in his head. But it was coming from the ice-mirror-device. He turned to look at it. The ice-like surface was shimmering a bright, pure white light. In a flash, it burst out from the mirror and started spreading slowly outwards from it, a wall of light.

When someone activated the stargate, the vortex lashed out and vaporized everything in its path. When someone activated this device--he hoped it wasn't like that. His first thought was to back away from the light, but it was approaching so fast that he had no chance.

He was closest to the ice-mirror, so it hit him first. And passed right through him. It felt strange and unpleasant, but not actually painful. Like liquid electricity. In a few seconds, it went through the others, and disappeared into the walls. Absorbing this kind of stuff was why they were there, after all.

He looked at the device again. Two figures were slowly taking shape from thin air at the side of the block nearer to Mitchell. It looked like they were made of ice, same as the device before it was activated. They looked humanoid, or more than that, like humans. One's fingers contacted the surface of the device, with the other's hand placed on his elbow.

Carter's voice, filled with emotion, made Mitchell turn his face away from the ice sculptures.

"Daniel!" she uttered.

Jackson had opened his eyes. Back among the living again. Whether it was because of Carter and Teal'c, or that odd wall of light that had come from the device, he couldn't tell.

"-'s okay--Better now," Jackson gasped.

The room suddenly looked darker. The light from the activated device had went off. Mitchell looked at it again, and saw that the figures were no longer made of ice. They really were two humans. As he watched, the one who wasn't touching the mirror, a bald man in a long black coat, went down, straight on his back, like a felled tree.

The other man had sand-colored hair and brown clothes with lots of pockets. He pulled his hand away from the mirror and turned to face the room, and SG-1.

Of course, he came to face four weapons aimed right at him, though two of them were more than a bit shaky.

"There's no need for that. I'm unarmed."

Relieved, Daniel dropped his gun. Of course, he hadn't even bothered to load it. He really wasn't up to shooting anyone right now. He wasn't up to doing much of anything, actually. He leaned back, thinking to put the elbow of his good hand on the floor and stay half-upright so he could see what was happening. Instead, he found himself sliding all the way down, unable and unwilling to get up again.

He heard the newcomer saying, "Really, I'm not going to put up a fight. Can you understand what I'm saying? Do you speak English?"

First contact situation. Daniel's specialty. He wasn't up to that, either. It took surprising effort just to lift his hand enough so he could rub his chest, which was still aching, but now, he figured it was just because of all the bruises. Someone hadn't exactly been gentle with the compressions. Not that they had said anything about what had happened, of course. He'd waken up to find Sam and Teal'c hovering above him and looking utterly devastated, and putting that together with what he had felt before wasn't all that hard.

"Sure, we speak English. I'm Cam Mitchell. This is Sam Carter and Teal'c, and--Jackson?" Mitchell asked, all concern and worry once again.

Daniel hadn't even realized he had closed is eyes. Well, no need to keep them open. He had already seen what those newcomers looked like.

"I'm still here," he answered, his voice coming out so weak that it took him by surprise. "No one calls me Jackson. Just say Daniel."

"Well, you heard him. That's Daniel," Mitchell repeated. "And who are you?"

Mitchell could handle this. Way better then Daniel, at the moment. And where were those blankets when he really needed them? It was so cold in here. He was shivering, and dizzy even though he was perfectly still and flat on his back. His hand was a stupid, painful, dead weight, like a block of wood, without any feel aside from the inextinguishable fire.

"Now, that is a very interesting question." The reply came in a voice Daniel hadn't heard before, slowly and carefully articulated.

He still couldn't think properly. Still couldn't concentrate on anything for long enough. The panic of being stuck and imprisoned and probably dying inside these walls was like a vast black sea that surrounded the tiny island of his half-sentient mind. He tried to figure out these newcomers. So, they spoke English. Or had they just figured out that SG-1 spoke it and chosen it because of that? Were they Ancients? Could they be? Did it make any sense?

"Galen? What happened?" that other unfamiliar voice asked--the man who had spoken first.

Galen, as in the ancient Greek physician? Or maybe, an Ancient who had lived in Earth's antiquity? It was possible, but the timeframe... That would make him much younger, or newer, or whatever, than the Duodecim, those who were here at the time of the plague. Did Ancients really live millions of years? Now they did, sure, since they were Ascended, but before that? And if they were Ancients, wouldn't they be able to get everyone out of here? Away from this awful place and the impending doom?

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same question. I have no memory of the last few minutes. It was a complete sensor overload."

That was the man who was apparently called Galen. Daniel was pretty sure he had said "sensor" instead of "sensory", though he might've just misheard after all. He might've misheard the whole conversation. Maybe he was just imagining the whole thing. Maybe no one had come through the multiverse mirror. God, he felt so sick. He was afraid he was actually going to be sick, and couldn't even find enough strength to turn over.

Galen was speaking again. "Your friend is severely injured. He's in shock. Without help, he won't live long. I can help, if you allow me."

It took Daniel a while to get it that it was all about him. Won't live long. He had already almost died, so it shouldn't have come as a big surprise, but it still felt awful to hear someone say that in such plain words.

"I'm really not going to refuse any help right now," he mumbled, wondering if anyone even heard him.

Apparently they did, or agreed anyway, because the next thing he knew, someone had taken hold of his hand and started unwrapping the gauze. He decided to risk a look, only to turn his head away quickly and close his eyes again. He should've known what to expect. His hand didn't look remotely like anything that could ever be fixed and usable again. The fingers that had brushed the wall were all black and blue, and the rest was swollen and spotted red and purple, all the way up to his wrist. He thought he might not want to know what this Galen--Ancient physician or not--was going to do about it.

He felt Galen's hands holding his. A moment later, he lost all feeling of it. The pain, the burning, everything was completely gone. That wasn't such a bad thing, but the thought of whatever it might mean made him feel more sick and shivering than before. He wouldn't look again.

"Don't worry. I have temporarily blocked the nerve impulses from the damaged area, so there won't be any discomfort."

"Galen, what are you doing?" the other man, still unnamed, asked in a disbelieving voice.

"My best, Maximilian. You might do the same. Since we're going to stay here for a while, the least you could do would be to introduce yourself properly."

An Ancient expressing disbelief when the other was trying to heal someone? That, in Daniel's opinion, didn't make a lot of sense. Unless they were so selfish that they saw it as an outrage to waste their talents on lesser beings, such as normal humans. Or maybe Galen was just doing something so awful that this Maximilian couldn't believe it. Daniel still hadn't dared open his eyes, and since he couldn't feel anything either, he could only guess.

"Ah, then. Dear fellow captives. I'm Max Eilerson, archaeologist, linguist, currently working for IPX. Pleased to meet you all, but not at all pleased to be stuck here with you. Especially since I'm probably the one who has to get us out of here, with all that text on the walls."

"As a matter of fact, you are not. Daniel Jackson is working on it as well. He is very talented and highly appreciated in the fields of archeology and linguistics." That was Teal'c speaking up for him. Unusual to hear such praise in that deep voice, but probably he didn't like this Max's attitude any more than Daniel did.

They went on talking, Sam, Teal'c, Mitchell and Max, while Galen stayed silent, mostly. Daniel soon lost track of what they were saying. He drifted somewhere between dreamless sleep and unconsciousness, without any awareness of the passage of time.

"Please don't say that you're just as stuck and imprisoned here as the rest of us," Mitchell groaned.

He couldn't believe it. That someone could come through the ice-mirror-device just at random and without any more idea about getting out than SG-1. For all he knew, the people coming through that thing should've been Ancients with all the knowledge in the world.

"Yes, I think I just heard myself say something like that. We're stuck here, unless Galen's changed his mind," Eilerson replied. He was already starting to get on Mitchell's nerves. As if the situation hadn't been annoying enough without this smart-ass.

"I have not. I cannot do anything to try and get us out, since it would be suicidal, at best. At least there are some things I can still do."

This Galen was something Mitchell hadn't quite figured out yet. He had taken Daniel's hand between his, so that none of them could really see what he was doing. If he was doing anything at all. Maybe he was just sitting there and trying to pretend that he could be useful and helpful.

"What do you mean, that'd be suicidal? Suicidal as in getting all kinds of nasty stuff from the walls if you touch them?"

"No, that's not what I mean. And if you would mind not disturbing me further."

"Right. So, Eilerson? You feel like telling us what he's talking about?"

"He's afraid of some kind of a freak reaction between the technology that powers up this place and whatever it is that allows him to do his things."

"What things?" Carter put in.

"The magic. Techno-mage tricks. It's really just illusions, most of it, anyway."

"What is a techno-mage?" Teal'c asked.

"Never heard of them before? Well, I can't say I'd really know that much about them, either. A techno-mage is an annoying holier-than-thou, who uses technology to simulate magic and distract and trick those he deems lower than himself, which means pretty much everyone else. And is hardly ever useful when you could really use some help. Like now."

"So you're not Ancients? Alterans?" Carter asked the question everyone had probably been thinking about, though their hopes had gone pretty low already. These two surely didn't look or sound like what Mitchell expected from real Ancients.

"We're humans, if that's what you mean. Despite the fact that Galen might think he's something different and better than the rest of us. I was born on Mars, but if you're Earthers, I won't hold it against you."

"Just wait a moment--on Mars? The red planet? Fourth rock from the sun?"

"Call it what you will. I see you're an Earther to the core, with such a clear southern accent and all. Charming."

"We're all from Earth, except for Teal'c, who's Jaffa, and has lived most of his life on a planet called Chulak. As far as we know, Earth has no colonies on Mars. Not yet, at least--there's been talk about going there for years. So, if we suppose that device really is something like the quantum mirror, then you must be from a timeline where it's already happened. It really sounds pretty exciting. People living on Mars in 2005," Carter said.

"2005? No, you've got to be kidding. That's where you come from? That's where we're supposed to be right now?"

"Indeed, that is the current year, according to the common reckoning of the Tau'ri."

"Well, well. Last I checked, the year was 2267."

Finally, Daniel noticed something that instantly brought him back to the here and now. He could feel his hand again. It was still held tightly between Galen's hands, and tingling all over, but that was nothing compared to the earlier burning. Galen set it down on Daniel's stomach and let go of it.

"Go ahead and take a look, Daniel. It turned out quite handsome, even if I do say so myself. Now, I believe there is someone else here in need of a healing touch--Cam--Cameron, is it?"

"Galen, please. You've been at this for hours already, isn't that enough? You're not trying to make us believe that you can actually heal people, are you?" Max was as cynical about it as before.

Hours, was it? Had it really been that long? Of course, that was perfectly possible, since Daniel really hadn't been counting. He opened his eyes and raised his hand so he could see it. It felt perfectly normal, each finger right where they should be. He closed it in a fist, crossed his fingers, bent each one in turn. It looked normal as well, as if there had never been anything wrong with it.

He had to look at his other hand just to be sure that he had been looking at the right one in the first place. Compared to his uninjured left, the now mended right did seem slightly different. The skin was unnaturally smooth and soft, like that of a newborn, and still slightly tingling and raw. This definitely looked like Ancient healing to him.

"Oh, I think he really can heal people, Max," Daniel said softly.

He was feeling better, just in general. Not much to complain about, except that he was awfully sleepy. Reminded him of that time--only days ago--when Vala had been whisked to the Ori galaxy, and the mixed effects of the Goa'uld bracelets and the Ancient communication device had left him unable to stay awake except for short periods.

Someone was pulling his shoes off. He lifted his head and looked.

"Teal'c, really... I'm way past the age when I needed help with my shoelaces..."

"Daniel Jackson. Galen has expressed that you need rest, and I agree. I believe we should all attempt to sleep for a while, so we can attack our task of escaping this place with renewed energy."

"Whatever, Teal'c," he mumbled.

He didn't mind it anymore when he felt someone closing his sleeping bag around him. Going to sleep really was a magnificent idea.

Mitchell felt like he'd spent every bit of strength he had left, trying to look like he was in control of the situation, pointing a wavering P90 at the newcomers and asking stupid questions. Well, not so stupid, actually. They'd found out amazing stuff, and he was sure there was more to come. Unfortunately it was getting harder and harder for him to follow the conversation. Carter was explaining something about what she had thought about the ice-mirror-device, while Eilerson answered with what little he had figured out. He seemed to be interested about the commercial value of it, which Carter found ridiculous.

Mitchell really found the whole situation ridiculous. He decided he could just as well lie down.

So, two guys pop in from 2267, one of which is some kind of a weird wizard wannabe, while the other does basically the same stuff as Jackson, and advanced as they might be, they're just as stuck here as SG-1, and haven't got much of anything useful to offer? Well, except, unless Galen really could heal people. That would certainly count as useful. And if he could heal Jackson, then surely healing Mitchell would be an easy thing to do. But Eilerson had expressed several times that he'd never seen Galen do anything like this before, and was sure that it was just some kind of a show.

Mitchell noticed that blood was seeping through the bandaging covering his shoulder. For a passing moment, he wondered what'd happen to him if Galen really wasn't able to help. Of course, he'd just fight and get over this injury like everything that had happened to him before this. No problem. Piece of cake. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself, with the feeling that deep down, he really didn't believe it.

When he heard Jackson's weak voice telling Eilerson that Galen really could help, his hopes went up. And so, when the supposed healer showed up by his side, he was anxious to see what'd happen. But it wasn't all that spectacular. Mostly, Galen just sat there, his hands partially blocking Mitchell's view. He seemed to be holding a crystal of some kind in one hand. Then, slowly, very slowly, he saw new skin growing to cover the wound. He didn't feel it, since Galen had done something to stop him from feeling anything at all.

"There you go," Galen said, and lifted his hands, revealing a patch of perfectly healed skin. So much for whatever Eilerson had said, this really worked. At least looked like it had worked, and felt like it too. If this was a trick, then it was a damn good one.

"A few hours of sleep, and you'll be good as new."

Mitchell could believe that. Nothing he'd like to do more than doze off. But he was still in charge, still had an obligation to his team. "Carter? What time's it?"

"Sir... It's late. 0300 already. I guess we could all use a few hours of sleep."

"Make that an order, then. Sleep for all. You mind taking the first watch?"

On to Day 2

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