Mirror, Mirror

by Sabine C. Bauer

  "You know I can't. Your lies made sure of it "

  "Such venom, my friend. You amaze me. The pain must be quite unbearable."

  It was, but Ronon didn't care right now. "I'm telling you the truth."

  "Then why, after coming through the Stargate, which by the way nobody has done in recorded history, would she ask for Teyla Emmagan? She also had this on her," added Marcon, holding up something that looked like a shriveled chunk of leather.

  "It's a finger." Squinting at it, Ronon felt faintly disgusted. "Mummified, I'd say."

  "Quite right." Marcon sounded pleased. "Normally, it wouldn't be remarkable; after all, who knows what kind of bizarre rites her people practice. However, this diligent young man here"-he patted the technician's shoulder-"thought it wise to test the relic. Imagine his surprise-and mine-when it turned out that, apparently, the digit belongs to you."

  "Then he made a mistake." By ways of illustration, Ronon wiggled a complete set of ten non-mummified fingers.

  "He did not," said Marcon before the technician could vent his indignation. "In fact, he repeated the tests three times, always with the same result. I want to know the meaning of this, that's why you are here. She knows you; she will trust you. When she wakes up, you will question her. Once I am satisfied that she has told you everything, you will deal with her as I see fit."

  The Behemoth started laughing.

  CHAPTER I I

  Charybdis +4

  he camps were well and truly divided now, something Elizabeth had been trying to prevent for a long time. Feeling increasingly out of step with everyone else hadn't helped because, much as she tried not to let it show, her sense of alienation had a way of communicating itself to the others. And while she truly believed that their survival depended on the group remaining cohesive, this latest development might well be the wedge that would drive them all apart. Radek had formed convictions that were all but religious in their fervor, and religion appealed to people, shaken and uprooted as they were. So they followed him.

  Well, she'd deal with it later. Now she had other priorities, three of whom sat in a corner of the grotto behind her, huddled around a small campfire and looked after by the handful of people who remained in Elizabeth's camp. Outside the unseasonable storm raged on, showing no sign of abating. The crops were destroyed already, and what little they'd managed to store wouldn't last them for a week. Four years of back-breaking labor, cultivating the flower, had been wiped out in minutes by the hail. They were back to square one, worse off perhaps, because of the friction among them.

  Elizabeth shivered, pulled the sodden cloak tighter around her, and turned back into the scant protection of the grotto. In the corner across from the Sheppards and that heartbreaking alternate outcome of Janus's proposal, her double, burned another fire, and gathered around that were Radek-Brother Moon-and his followers. They'd been carrying on a hushed debate, but now things had mellowed down. She knew why and, inhaling the sweet scent of the blossoms, was tempted herself, because it would calm her.

  The meeting broke up, and several people disappeared into the tunnel-once a corridor-that led to their storage chamber. Presumably they were going to take stock of their supplies. Good point. Elizabeth supposed she should have suggested it straightaway, but with everything else that had happened the oversight was excusable. Besides, she had a pretty good idea of what the tally would be, even without literally counting the beans.

  Radek rose, caught her eye, and ambled over to place a hand on her arm and give a sheepish little smile. "I'm sorry, SisElizabeth. I never meant to overstep the line or question your authority. I'm just concerned about all this." He waved toward the opening of the grotto and the storm raging in the darkness beyond. "I-"

  "I know, Radek." And she did.

  Like all the others, he had no recollection of how they'd ended up here, but ever since Elizabeth, who did remember all too clearly, had made the mistake of telling them, Radek firmly believed that Charybdis lingered and was sentient. The possibility couldn't be discounted, considering that Ikaros had joined with his creation. But if Charybdis was indeed sentient, as Radek argued, then it would attempt to preserve itself and interpret any attempt to reset the four-dimensional structure it had established as threat. One such threat, he insisted, were people skipping from one timeline to another as the Johns and the alternate Elizabeth had done.

  "Would you mind if I join you?" he asked.

  The question rattled her, because it threw into relief how far they'd drifted apart. "Radek, there is no my people and your people. We're a community. Of course you're welcome to join."

  It brought another sheepish grin. "Merely a figure of speech." He squinted into the darkness. "It's close to dinner time, I guess. Sister Dawn plans to cook vegetable stew. Our... guests... must be hungry, and perhaps they'd like some food and tea. Consider it a peace offering."

  Nobody with functional taste buds would mistake Sister Dawn's culinary efforts for anything of the sort, but Elizabeth decided to accept the offer in the spirit in which it was made. Detente. "That's very kind, Radek. Yes, I'm sure they'd like dinner. So would everybody else, I guess. It's been a long day."

  "Yes, it has. I'll let her know." He trotted off to where Dawn was scraping out an old drum that had been converted to a cauldron.

  As Elizabeth approached her new charges she could feel the heat of the small campfire and was grateful for it. The wood had gotten wet, and the smoke hung like a black, swirling canopy beneath the ceiling of the grotto. Just outside the flickering halo cast by the fire, she stopped for a moment and watched, if only to reaffirm to herself that she had done the right thing by refusing to turn them away. Confused and frightened, her double was in no condition to go anywhere, and John-the pair of him-plain worried her.

  So what else was new?

  She smiled despite herself, realizing somewhat to her surprise that she'd actually missed worrying about him. But there was worrying and then there was worrying, and with that trite realization her smile died. If they were on Earth-or on their Atlantis for that matter-Major Sheppard's leg would bump him off flight status permanently, and as for Colonel Sheppard, he looked ready to pass out. Not for the first time she wished that it had been Carson Beckett rather than Radek who'd ended up marooned in this place with her.

  Yes, Elizabeth, and you can go right on wishing until you're blue in the face. It won't change one damn thing.

  With that bracing thought she stepped up to the fireside. The Sheppards interrupted their inconspicuous observation of the goings-on over by the other campfire, and Elizabeth's double looked up at her, frowning in bewilderment.

  "Do I know you?" she asked.

  Seeing yourself lose your faculties was disconcerting, to say the least. Elizabeth swallowed a gasp, pasted on a lopsided grin. "We've met."

  Colonel Sheppard cast another glance at the second campfire, then gazed back at her and cocked his head. "Sorry about stirring up trouble, Elizabeth. I take it you've managed to smooth things out a little?"

  She crouched, leaned forward, and spread her hands over the flames, soaking in the warmth. "They're afraid," she said softly. "Some of them, including Dr. Zelenka, have invested Charybdis with godlike powers, even if they wouldn't quite put it that way. They believe this storm was caused by Charybdis because it doesn't want you here. It's fighting back."

  "It's entropy," Major Sheppard said dryly, massaging his leg. "Though if you want to describe it as the wrath of God, that's probably not too far off."

  "How did you find me?"

  "We didn't. She did." He nodded at her double and launched into a complex explanation about alternate versions and matrices and originals and how the Stargate tried to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

  Halfway through the lecture Radek came over, carrying a tray with clay mugs on it, steam curling over them. Trying hard not to wobble, he got down to his knees and placed the tray on the ground. Then he ceremoniously handed the mugs to their guests. "You probably can us
e something hot," he said simply, all perfect host, as though his earlier altercation with them never had happened. "It's tea."

  Both Sheppards looked ecstatic, but apparently neither found it constructive to turn down the offer.

  The alternate Elizabeth sniffed the brew and beamed. "It smells delightful," she said brightly. "Please, you must let me have the recipe."

  With a sudden pang, Elizabeth realized why her double's behavior struck her as so familiar; this version of her had fled back into the safe template of her childhood, impersonating the perfect politician's wife her parents had wanted her to be. No matter if the world came crashing down around you, you weren't to show a wrinkle and the party must go on. Her mother had epitomized the principle all her life, without once admitting to the stultifying boredom of this endless succession of charity dinners and junior leaguers' baby showers. Perhaps she really hadn't been able to notice it...

  "You mean to tell us that the gate system works?" Radek's comment was laced with a skepticism that barely avoided being impolite and yanked Elizabeth back into the Here and Now.

  Major Sheppard took a careful sip of the tea, evidently decided that it wasn't as bad as it sounded, and said, "It works up to a point. Neither of us"-he nudged his twin-"could have gotten here on our own. It looks as though, if you're an alternate, the system will attempt to hook you up with your original, and that's the only way it works right now."

  "So-" Radek slid a glance at Colonel Sheppard who'd wrapped his fingers around the mug of untouched tea. "Drink, Colonel. It's brewed from the blossoms of a local flower, and we observed several curative properties. Among other things it's a pretty good analgesic."

  "I'm more worried about the other things," John observed, directing his gaze from the now very happy crowd by the other campfire and back to Elizabeth.

  "It's safe, John," she said. "Really. You'll get approximately the same effect you would from a glass of wine, except it's more pleasant and without the risk of a hangover. Fundamentally, all it does is make you relax."

  It wasn't the entire truth, and nobody knew it better than she. By the same token, if John turned any paler, he'd start to glow in the dark, and his painful squint suggested a roaring migraine. Right now the benefits of the blossom far outweighed its risks.

  "I don't see you drinking any," he said, his voice terse.

  "But you see me drinking it," Radek said before Elizabeth could reply, took a spare mug from the tray and drained it. "See? I understand your doubts, and I'm truly sorry to have caused them in the first place, but you must believe me, please. We're really not trying to harm you."

  Finally, John took a tentative sip. "Could be worse, I suppose" He drank again.

  "So." Looking pleased, Radek resumed his earlier thought. "This would imply that you came here specifically to find Elizabeth? Now that you've found her, what do you want of her?"

  "We were hoping you could tell us where Rodney-original or alternate-is" John-the Major this time-finished his tea, gave a droopy-eyed blink, and placed the mug back on the tray. "I like this stuff. You got any more?"

  "One's enough for now.,, Grabbing Radek's wrist, Elizabeth prevented him from getting up to fetch some more. "It can hit you quite hard when you're not used to it. And no, I'm afraid I've got no idea what became of Rodney. He never was here. I don't even know if he's still alive."

  Trying to ignore the weight of responsibility and guilt that pressed down on her, she struggled to just keep breathing. There was a lot to be said for madness, Elizabeth thought, looking at her alternate who'd curled up like a kitten and was falling asleep by the fire. If she simply went crazy, she wouldn't have to face the fact that she'd failed on an unimaginable scale. Rodney and everybody else who'd died or gone missing that day-all of them were on her conscience. She could have stopped the activation of Charybdis, but she'd chosen not to believe Rodney. Her gaze wandered to the tray and the mugs, and she craved some of the tea, if only to make her forget for a while.

  "Why?" Radek said.

  Why what?

  "Why do we need to find McKay?" Colonel Sheppard's speech sounded faintly slurred. But the tea couldn't kick in that fast, could it?

  Scared all of a sudden, she asked, "John? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. Tea seems to work." He scrubbed his hands over his face as though to wipe away his fatigue. "McKay? I thought that would be ovbi... ov... obvious. We need him to figure out a way of getting us back to Atlantis-our Atlantis-and stop Charybdis from ever happening. But if we can't find him, it's up to you, Zelenka. We haven't got much time left."

  "Less time than you'd imagine," Radek affirmed gently. His eyes were warm, smiling, but Elizabeth couldn't say whether it was how he felt or whether it was the blossom extract. "Suppose I help you, Colonel-and keep in mind, you no longer can order me to-and by some miracle you succeed. What will happen to us?" He'd gradually raised his voice, and everyone in the grotto was listening now. The happy noises had died down completely.

  In a flash, she knew what he was playing at and that he was stone-cold sober for once. His mug must have contained hot water, nothing more. "Radek! Don't do this! We have to-"

  "Stick together?" He laughed. "We never have. Because you're different, aren't you? You won't be affected by any of this!" He turned back to the Sheppards. "What will happen to us?"

  Major Sheppard blinked heavily, struggling to focus. "You won't ever have existed," he murmured. "You won't-"

  "We won't be there any longer. We'll be wiped out!" Arms spread wide, Radek rose like an angry prophet. "You heard him, brothers and sisters. They'd destroy us without thinking twice about it. And Elizabeth here-I won't honor her by using her chosen name-would help them. Because she is one of them, not one of us."

  Us and them.

  That's what it had boiled down to, what she'd been afraid of all along. In a way Radek had been right: the arrival of the Sheppards and her double had upset a precarious balance, and the resultant upheaval could destroy them all.

  Across the fire from her, Colonel Sheppard was struggling to rise, sluggish and uncoordinated, and awkwardly slumped back against his alternate, who began giggling uncontrollably. Elizabeth clenched her fists. "How much did you give them?"

  "Enough," Radek said simply. "They won't be able to put up a fight, which is what I hoped for. It's never been my intention to harm them."

  "So what are you planning to do with them now?"

  "Send them back to where they've come from."

  "You heard them, Radek. It won't work unless you go with them. You'd have to leave, which is the last thing you'd want to do, isn't it?" It wasn't exactly a fair move, but Elizabeth no longer cared. Leaving the planet meant not having access to a drug that made this version of Atlantis seem like the happiest place in the universe. Nobody wanted to leave, and the thought of never being able to return would be terrifying. "Besides, how would you dial out? There is no dialing console"

  Fora brief moment it looked as though she was getting through. Then Radek shook his head. "Who says they were telling the truth? And I suspect they've got a jumper." He stepped over to the Sheppards, who were all but unconscious by now, and began searching them. Tucked into the waistband of Major Sheppard's pants he found a handgun, which he discarded with a mixture of indifference and disgust. Next he discovered a cloak remote, which was what he'd been looking for all along. "I thought so," he declared and activated the device.

  Elizabeth whirled around and strained to see past the darkness and pounding hail beyond the grotto. At the far side of the clearing a faint gray outline materialized. Frustration made her grit her teeth. "For all we know, sending them back through the gate could kill them!"

  "It's unfortunate but preferable to them killing us. Besides, if they've been telling the truth the gate won't work, will it?"

  "Radek-"

  "Make sure she doesn't interfere," he said calmly.

  When Elizabeth turned back she almost collided with Brother Star, who was built like a linebacker and
had the mindset of a Marine. The rest of the group closed in around her; a wall of once familiar faces that somehow had mutated into alien masks risen from a nightmare. And who could blame them`? They'd gotten the gist of what Major Sheppard had said: if the effects of Charybdis were reversed, they'd cease to exist.

  "Sorry, sister." Somehow Star contrived to sound both apologetic and implacable at the same time.

  Then a bright burst of pain exploded at the back of her head and sent her spinning into blackness.

  Charybdis -908

  Rodney McKay had persuaded himself that the tales of the local inquisition were vastly exaggerated. It'd been the only way of getting any sleep at all. Besides, so far and contrary to the propaganda, nothing seriously detrimental had happened to him. True, his current abode wasn't exactly pleasant, and the exquisite boredom of spending twelve days in an eight by eight subterranean cell defied description, but on the other hand, nobody had strapped him to the rack either. The worst damage he had sustained was a complete set of blisters from when he'd been power-walked down to the city, but even those had pretty much healed by now. Okay, two larger ones showed signs of turning into bunions, but considering the alternative he ought to congratulate himself.

  You forgot to whine about the cold and the rats.

  Well, yes, there was that.

  He was hearing voices. One voice, to be precise. Still refusing to consider insanity, he'd put it down to the stress of the interrogation at first, but now he was more inclined to ascribe it to some form of malnutrition. Had to be. It had gotten worse since they'd thrown him in here without so much as listening to his side of the story. He'd decided to protest his treatment by refusing to eat. Not that it was much of a hardship. So malnutrition had to be it. Lack of potassium? Manganese? Zinc? Some mineral deficiency at any rate, and where was Carson Beckett when you needed him?

  You mean the excitable person with the funny accent?

  "Shut up!"

  God, he needed some decent food! He needed some food, period.

  As if on cue, his stomach cramped painfully. In front of a small hatch at the bottom of his cell door sat a wooden bowl, slid in at dawn by the warder. A large, mangy-looking rat was slinking around it, sniffing at its contents, and Rodney stared at it miserably.