STARGATE SG-1-19-23-Ouroboros-s08 Read online

  “That’s not actually the most interesting thing, sir,” Carter said

  Daniel started to say more, but someone called his name. He hurried to answer, and Jack lifted an eyebrow at Carter.

  “Oh?”

  “No, sir. You see, the problem with dialing addresses outside the galaxy is the amount of power it requires — we needed a ZPM to dial Atlantis, and it’s pretty clear that the expedition hasn’t had any luck finding a power source for the gate on their side.”

  Or they were all dead, Jack thought. There were too many things that could have gone wrong, too many possible disasters, too many dangers that could not have been foreseen. He’d known when he’d approved the mission that it was potentially a one-way trip, and just because everyone who’d gone had agreed to it didn’t make him feel any better. If they were lost, it was on his watch, and there was nothing he could do about it. Except maybe until now.

  Carter was hurrying on as though she’d guessed his thought. “Janus was trying to solve the same problem, sir, and it looks like he made a good start. That’s why I asked for Dr. Lee to come here, to confirm my calculations, because if I’m right… Sir, I think Janus has figured out how to tap vacuum energy directly, without having to create a separate region of subspace/time to draw from.”

  “Carter…”

  “Look, sir, a ZPM is essentially a container for a cut-off region of subspace, from which we can draw not quite infinite power, but something very close to that. What Janus seems to have done is, well, hard-wired this new device directly into the fabric of subspace. If we could figure out how he did it, we’d never have to worry about needing a ZPM or anything like it ever again.”

  Jack glanced toward the wall of diamond, clamping down hard on his enthusiasm. “It doesn’t look like it’s doing much right now, Carter.”

  “No, sir.” She looked at her laptop again, but resisted the urge to unfold it. “But as far as I can tell, sir, it’s all on-line and ready to go. All we need is to inject a small amount of energy — a hundredth of what a naquadah generator is capable of producing — and we can start it up. That’s what I want Dr. Lee to check out.”

  Jack looked at the golden snake, gleaming in their lights, and then past Carter’s shoulder to the teams busy at the consoles. “How likely is it that we can figure out how to use this new power system safely?” he asked, and Carter grinned.

  “Honestly, sir? I think the odds are fifty-fifty. But — if Daniel’s right, this thing was meant to take people to Atlantis. If we can get it working, we can at least find out what’s happening with the expedition.”

  And that was the kicker, as she’d known it would be. Jack nodded. “All right, Colonel, you can carry on. But you’re not to turn it on without direct authorization. Clear?”

  She nodded briskly. “Yes, sir.”

  “Right,” Jack said. He looked toward the snake again, the plain platform beneath it. It was so tempting, it looked so easy, just turn it on and go. They could find out what was happening in the Pegasus galaxy, maybe even figure out a way to power up all the Antarctic systems, and for once have solid protection for the entire planet against whatever else was out there. Except — it was Janus. Never, not once in the history of the Stargate program, had anything gone right when Janus was involved. He wished he could believe this would be an exception.

  It took another three days for Lee and his team to confirm Carter’s theory, and the best part of another week for them to work out a way to turn on the power without starting up the device in the inner chamber. Jack sat patiently through the briefing, repressing the urge to ask either smart-ass or annoyingly stupid questions, listening less to the technical explanations than to the tone of Carter’s voice. It wasn’t that she ever sounded less than confident — if she didn’t think something was going to work, she wouldn’t let it get this far — but he’d long ago learned to hear the difference between certainty and general enthusiasm. He heard certainty this time, and that was good enough for him.

  “OK,” he said, breaking up one last squabble between two of the junior scientists. “Carter. Let me get this straight. The plan is to turn on the power but not activate the device itself.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So how are you going to know you’ve got the power working?”

  “The system was designed with two stages, a power-up stage, and then turning on the actual device. We’re just going to do the power up.”

  “And you’re sure that’s all you’re going to do?”

  “As sure as I can be, sir,” she answered. “And if I’m wrong, we’ve got breakers in place that should shut down the entire system.”

  Jack hadn’t missed the difference between should and will, but he also knew that this was about the best he could reasonably expect. If he had to choose, he’d take Carter’s ‘should’ over anybody else’s ‘will’. “OK,” he said again. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Carter said.

  “Oh, Colonel?” Jack said, before she could turn away. “I’d like to sit in. If you don’t mind.”

  Her smile widened, just for an instant. “Of course not, sir.”

  He was just looking for an excuse to avoid the paperwork. That was what he told himself, and what he told Davis, who was starting to look a bit harried. But it was an important discovery, this potential replacement for ZPMs, and he wanted to see it in action himself.

  It was all an excuse, and he admitted as much to himself as he shaved, making sure he looked like what he was, the man in charge, head of the SGC, a man who could sleep every night in his own bed and wouldn’t show up unshaven for anything short of an act of God and maybe not then. The face in the mirror smirked back at him. He just wanted to walk through the gate one more time, each chance precious because it might be the last. This was as good an excuse as he was likely to get.

  Janus’s lab was brighter than before, the lights he’d seen on the travel pallet now set up to banish the last of the shadows. For the first time, he realized that the walls had been painted an odd terracotta color. It matched the nail polish one of the civilian technicians was wearing, busy entering data into a laptop, and he wondered if she’d picked it on purpose.

  Carter and Lee were in the inner room, and Jack moved to join them, stepping over the cables that still ran through the doorway. He hadn’t actually been inside before, and somehow it wasn’t quite what he’d expected. For starters, it was a lot taller than it was wide, with a ceiling that rose a good eight or nine feet higher than the one in the other room. Which had to mean that there was only a thin layer of dirt overhead, though probably Janus had put some solid shell in place. He craned his neck to see, but couldn’t make out either reinforcements or any signs that the building had degraded. The walls were painted pure white — or maybe it wasn’t paint, but some kind of thick insulation. The golden snake looked more like it had been inlaid than painted on the rough surface.

  “General!” Carter broke off her conversation with Lee, and came to join him. “We’re just about ready.”

  “Except for the back-up generator,” Lee said. “And the cut-out switch.”

  “That’s installed now,” Carter said, patiently.

  “Yes, but — there’s still that one circuit that we haven’t identified.”

  “Colonel?” Jack tipped his head to one side.

  “There is still one set of connections that doesn’t have any apparent purpose,” Carter said. She still seemed briskly confident. “In fact, I’m not sure it ever did anything, it looks as though it might be completely redundant, but —” She shrugged. “To be safe, we’ve pulled the crystals that connect it to the main part of the system. In any case, we’re not trying to turn on the device. We’re just seeing if we can tap the power source.”

  “OK,” Jack said. “So where’s the — generator?”

  “I think we’re standing in it, sir,” Carter said. “Although it doesn’t really exist in our area of space/time.”

  “
The walls are coated with a special material, of which we haven’t been able to identify all the compounds,” Lee said. “And there is a bank of capacitors beneath the platform that seem designed to accept the power once it starts flowing.”

  “Wait a minute.” Jack looked around. Yes, that was definitely what looked like a control panel beside the platform, and he pointed to it. “If this is the generator —”

  Carter nodded, looking pleased. “Exactly, sir. The device is definitely intended to be controlled from that console, so, while this chamber seems to function as a reinforcement to the subspace field, the actual power generated goes straight into the capacitors. It’s not only potentially a lot of power, it’s really clean.”

  Jack nodded back. Even he could see what that could mean, the power of a ZPM ready for the taking, without any of the problems of nuclear power, or oil, or coal, or the instability of things like wind and sun. If they could figure out how to attach this device, or build these chambers themselves — He curbed his thoughts sharply. First they’d better see if the thing worked at all. “All right,” he said. “Ready when you are, Colonel.”

  “Yes, sir. We’re just about there, so if you wouldn’t mind —”

  “Getting out of the line of fire?” Jack asked. “Not a problem, Colonel.”

  He retreated to the main chamber and settled in behind Lee, who was typing frantically into his laptop. Beyond the wall of diamond, Carter and a couple of technicians were setting up a naquadah generator, running a cord from it to what looked like a port beneath the platform.

  “Wait a minute,” Jack said. “If this thing is so powerful, how come you need the most powerful generator we have short of the ZPM?”

  “We have to open the connection between this universe and subspace,” Lee answered. “That takes a lot of power initially, but once it’s open, the connection should be self-sustaining.”

  Somehow that didn’t sound as reassuring as it did when Carter said it. Still, it was too late to back out now. Jack folded his arms, doing his best to look impassive, and Teal’c came to stand behind him.

  “Is this not impressive, O’Neill?”

  “Yeah.” Jack slanted a glance at him. “You’re not having any bad feelings about this, right? No funny feelings, no sense of impending doom, nothing like that?”

  Teal’c smiled. “I do not. And if I did, it would mean very little.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  Beyond the wall of diamond, Daniel had joined Carter and the technicians and was apparently checking translations, bending close over the console’s screen. Carter straightened then and waved to Lee.

  “OK. We’re going to close up now.”

  A technician hauled back the last of the cables and pushed the almost invisible door into place. It took all her strength to move it and the door sealed itself with a dull hiss. In the chamber, Carter touched her radio.

  “Are you receiving me, Dr. Lee?”

  “We’re hearing you just fine,” Lee answered. “I’m pulling the cut-outs and running the current test. And — everything’s fine. You’re good to go, Colonel.”

  “Confirmed,” Carter said. “We’re starting the naquadah generator.”

  One of the technicians did something to it and there was a faint low rumble, settling instantly to a hum that was barely a vibration in the soles of Jack’s feet. He braced himself, waiting for — well, he wasn’t exactly sure for what, but for something to happen. Beyond the diamond glass, Daniel said something and the second technician made an adjustment.

  “I’m getting subspace ripples,” one of the technicians on their side of the glass said, and Lee touched his radio.

  “Colonel Carter, we’re seeing a response on the subspace monitors. We’re getting Marston ripples.”

  “We’re seeing that, too,” Carter answered. “I’m increasing power to damp them out.”

  She did something to the generator controls and Jack felt something snap. There was a weird flicker, as though the chamber itself had blinked, and Lee looked up sharply.

  “Colonel! We’ve opened the connection!”

  “Holding steady,” Carter said. “Still holding…”

  On the wall behind her, the snake’s eye began to glow.

  Sam looked from the Ancient console to the attached laptops and back again, watching the power build in the capacitors. So far, everything was working exactly as predicted. The pulse of power from the naquadah generator was just enough to open the connection and, as she’d expected, the connection, once opened, was self-sustaining. The air felt thick, electric, and she could feel her hair lifting away from her scalp. That was only to be expected and she checked the readings again. Still steady, the capacitors building slowly, and she touched her radio. It crackled, distorted by the field, and behind the diamond glass she saw Lee frown.

  “I think we’ve got a good result,” she said. “I’m going to begin shutting down.”

  Lee’s voice was equally distorted, but the words were clear enough. “Ok, Colonel, go ahead.”

  Sam checked her screen again, then looked at the technicians. “Get ready to begin our shut-down procedure. Pereira, what’s the transfer rate?”

  “We’re holding at seventy percent, ma’am.”

  “Dial it back to fifty,” Sam said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Pereira said. “Fifty percent.”

  There was a whoop of an alarm from Daniel’s end of the console, and a flashing light.

  “Oh, that’s not good,” Daniel said, his hands racing over the controls. “Um, Sam, this says — it looks like it’s saying there’s turbulence in the system. Backflow?”

  Sam could see the same pattern emerging on the laptop screens, coils of yellow and orange flickering to life in the middle of the steady blue that was the representation of the power flow. “I see it. Pereira. Open back up to sixty percent.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Pereira did as he was told and the other technician looked up sharply.

  “Colonel, I’m getting an instability in the capacitors — it’s like they’re trying to feed the power back out again.”

  If the capacitors failed, if they refused to accept the incoming power… Sam tried not to think about the size of the resulting explosion. “Seventy percent, Pereira.”

  “Back to seventy percent, ma’am.”

  “It’s not enough,” Daniel said. “I’m still showing the backflow and now it’s telling me that it’s time to turn on the device.”

  That was presumably just an automated warning, Sam thought, part of the normal sequence for activating the machine. “Seventy-five percent, Pereira.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” There was a pause and then she saw his shoulders sag with relief. “We’re steady.”

  “Carter?” That was Jack’s voice, distorted by the crackling radio.

  Sam checked the readouts again, decided they really were stable, and turned back to face the diamond glass. “Sorry, sir. When we started to shut down, we ran into a little problem.”

  “How little?”

  “Not big, sir.” I hope, she added silently. “We’ll try our secondary procedure.”

  “OK,” Jack said, and she saw him take a step back again.

  “Ma’am,” the second technician said. “I’m getting containment warnings on the capacitors.”

  Crap. Sam leaned over her shoulder to check the readings. The capacitor was nowhere near what should be its limits, but those were definitely containment warnings. “See if you can dial back again, Pereira.”

  Another alarm sounded from Daniel’s end of the console. “Sam, it’s saying we have to turn the device on now.”

  “Or else?” Sam asked.

  “It doesn’t say, but I don’t think it’s good.” Daniel was busy with his keyboard, trying to access further information.

  “Pereira?” Sam could see the answer before he spoke: the turbulence was back in the display, the swirls now orange tinged with red.

  “No luck.” He touched keys again, shaking his h
ead. “Every time I try to decrease the flow, it just makes it worse.”

  “Yasmin, try to damp down the capacitors’ containment field, see if you can’t bottle it up until we get the backflow sorted out.” Sam turned back to the wall. “Dr. Lee, I think you should evacuate non-essential personnel.”

  “On it,” Lee answered, and behind him Jack stepped forward again.

  “Carter?”

  “We’re working on it, sir.” She turned back to the console, but not before she saw him begin ordering people away from their stations.

  She put that aside, touched keys to call up a schematic of the system. The weird blind circuit was flashing orange — which didn’t exactly make sense, because there was no way it could affect anything, but she keyed her radio again. “Bill. I need the crystals we took out of that blind circuit.”

  “What?” She couldn’t spare the time to look, but she could hear the confusion. “But that can’t possibly be —”

  “That’s what the device is telling me,” Sam said. “I need them now.”

  “Yeah, OK —”

  “On their way,” Jack said.

  Sam nodded, all her attention on the readings. The backflow was getting worse, even after Pereira raised the power to eighty percent, and then to eighty-five; at eighty-eight percent the system was barely stable, but at least she had a few seconds’ breathing room.

  “Got your crystals, Carter,” Jack said. “Where do you want them?”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, and snatched them out of his hand. Access to that circuit was through the side of the platform. She dropped to her knees beside it, prying open the cover, and tugged the tray out. She gave it a quick once-over — no cracks, no chips, nothing out of normal — and slotted the last two crystals into place. They lit, and she snatched her hands back, swearing at the shock. The tray slid closed without her intervention, and she hauled herself to her feet, tucking her stinging hands into her armpits. One of the alarms cut out, but the other one kept sounding.

  “Colonel, the containment is expanding,” Yasmin said, and Pereira spoke in the same moment.