Jumping over several steps at a time, nearly dropping the ZPM more than once, I descended to the control room level. And immediately realized things were bad.
The monitor, thin as good humor, was no longer alive with various green gradients. True, there were numerous annotations in the Ancient language on it, but the fact that the city map was covered in red markers didn't please me.
The alarm was methodically drilling into my brain, adding panic to what I was seeing.
Atlantis was sinking. I didn't know why, but the city's shield had shrunk to the size of the Central Spire, while the rest of the city-ship was either already underwater or about to be.
What was worse, the lower levels of the tower were also flooded. The very levels where the ZPM room was located!
The ZPM and the location of the main power node.
I'd been on Sudaria no more than six hours! Based on the time I'd been in the city and how much of Atlantis was already flooded, I'd calculated I had at least two or three days left!
What happened?! Why?!
It was unlikely I had time to search for answers. The Central Spire was flooding rapidly. The ZPM room was still above water for now, which meant I had time.
But I'd have to hurry. The nearest transporter in the lower part of the tower was inaccessible — probably already flooded and beyond the shield. Which, dammit, was collapsing fast!
At this point, only fractions of a percent of its needed power remained. Water was already around the Central Spire. The only thing keeping it from rushing inside at the speed of Niagara Falls was the quality sealing of the structures.
Classic "they don't make 'em like they used to" in action.
Only one option — run down the stairs.
If coming down from the Jumper hangar to the Gate Room I'd been skipping a couple steps at a time, now I was practically flying over half a flight. I wasn't afraid of falling and breaking my neck anymore — the personal shield was still active. But dropping the ZPM was a real possibility.
I wondered, could it break? If so, would I be vaporized immediately as if near an epicenter, or not?
Had to hurry.
Running, leaping over steps and landings, my body hurtled toward the base of the tower. There was no time left to speculate about what was happening. First the ZPM needed to be put in its place, then I could figure out who was to blame and what to do.
For some reason, I felt the answer to the first question would be my own name. How, I didn't know. But there was clearly no one else in the city.
Or... no, the Ancients wouldn't first "hire" me for a job and then crap in the well I needed to drink from.
I had only one more flight of stairs to cover and a run to the center of the tower to reach the ZPM room when, jumping off the stairs, I slammed into water glinting over the floor of the needed level.
Ice-cold, dammit, water whose level in an instant reached my knee.
What?!
So things were really bad if the lower floors of the Spire were flooding?
Dammit all to hell! Why was I feeling the cold when I was under the shield?
A click in my head — the shield lets air through. Most likely it wasn't about the water temperature, but the air temperature.
And the column of vapor escaping my mouth confirmed the guess.
Staring at the dark water, lit from within by still-working room lights, I thought for a couple seconds about what to do next.
It wasn't too late to go back to the hangar, dial a gate address, and run. To hell with Atlantis — it was already unsalvageable. Everything below was flooded, including the ZPM room! To swap the drained modules for working ones, I'd have to expose the contacts of wiring carrying voltage at a level where a short circuit would seem like a relief. Which I probably wouldn't even feel.
Memory helpfully recalled an old physics experiment we'd done in school. Seawater is an excellent conductor of electricity because it contains dissolved salts of various elements like sodium, calcium, and other metals. Any unsealed device that gets into salt water immediately becomes unusable. So even if I managed to reach the ZPM room without drowning, even if I could pull the old batteries out of the distribution node, the city's power system would react with the seawater and...
"Cancel the panic, dammit!" I yelled at myself, taking the first steps into the water. Well, "taking" it was already almost up to my knee.
I wouldn't say I was ever the world's best swimmer, but after estimating how long it would take me to wade — running was out of the question — to the desired room, I concluded I'd have to swim after all. I figured the ZPM room still had air; I just needed to get there.
The ocean was relentlessly cramping my limbs. Taking a couple steps back, I mentally ordered the shield to deactivate. As soon as the green haze around me vanished, I unbuttoned my jacket and shed it. Then I shoved the ZPM under my undershirt.
The device seemed to radiate heat, which would help. Silently asking the shield not to explode, I attached it to my pants. The personal device worked normally. There you go, and you were scared... There was even energy left in the ZPM. Probably.
I returned to the water.
One more step, another... The ZPM room, according to the plan on the Ancient scanner, was just one level below. Hell, I could walk there!
But walking wasn't an option — I'd suffocate.
Swimming, though...
Strange feeling — around me was an ocean, ice-cold at that, yet I was dry... My brain categorically refused to accept that as a given. So without thinking, I took a deep breath and dove.
The water resisted, as if trying to throw me back out, push me away. I looked at my wrist-mounted scanner, memorizing the route to the ZPM room. Then I tossed the scanner aside and, grabbing the steps, began to descend.
The pressure kept increasing, but I had no other choice. The only chance for survival was to power the city. If I didn't manage it — I'd drown, because hoping to surface inside a building, in complete darkness, was a long shot. Truly incredible.
It was too late to delude myself with hope. Only reliance on my own strength. I'd demanded the Ascended not interfere, hadn't I? Well, here was the result.
Though they wouldn't have helped anyway.
The shield around me was now glowing fully green. I figured the stronger the impact on it, the brighter it got. Which was good. I was, dammit, a Green Lantern! Let the ocean depths fear me, you Titansized water heater!
The picture was sheer darkness. In the middle of a futuristic city, surrounded by flooded high technology, a man glowing like a Christmas tree swam into the darkness.
I reached the fateful doors when my lungs were already starting to burn from lack of oxygen. Why did it all run out so fast, huh?! I was in a young body, from my army youth! I'd been a swimmer back then and even beaten a few guys from the sports company at breaststroke!
Starting to slowly release air through a thin slit between my lips, I finally managed to grab a light fixture next to the door. The panel at the entrance didn't even think of reacting to my movements in front of it, let alone lighting up. What a damn mess!
"Real heroes..."
Somehow hooking the decorative plate, I tore it off and looked at the darkened crystals. Three in a vertical row. Well, pull one out, use it to short the other two... I recalled the expedition had done something similar in an analogous situation.
Taking a big gulp of air, I dove.
Damned builders! Why the hell didn't this lock work underwater?
It didn't work. Not on the first try, nor the second.
I still had hope that the room wasn't flooded — after all, it was one of the city's main compartments. But it wouldn't open!
And then I got genuinely scared. If the door didn't open — I'd simply drown. The corridor was already full of water, as was the floor above me. Swimming out alive — no chance at all. And once Atlantis was completely flooded — lights out, toss a grenade. The pressure would crush me. My ears were already aching — the water, rising from below, was forcing oxygen upward, compressing it several times over. Classic example of compression forming in a piston engine combustion chamber.
But there was still a chance. I didn't feel water flowing toward the door to the ZPM room, which meant either it was already flooded, or the compartment's seal was intact. The odds were about the same as meeting a living Ancient in the city.
I had only so much air left in my lungs. Once that ran out, panic would set in. Whether I wanted it or not, my brain would realize its imminent death, and the frantic dance with a tambourine would begin.
I was doing something wrong with the crystals. Which one was I supposed to pull out, and which to short? Only two options — either short the lower and middle with the upper, or the upper and middle with the lower.
Stop! What if I was supposed to swap them?!
Exactly!
I had to pull out one crystal, swap it with the middle one, and then use the middle one to short the others.
The first time it didn't work.
But as soon as the top one was in the middle position, the console lit up with an internal glow! Now that was something!
Shorting the crystals, a frame from the series.
It worked. And I didn't even get electrocuted. Good thing the circuit didn't burn out. Oh, thank you, builders, for thinking of a safety margin. The door panels swung open, revealing an empty room.
The resulting water flow literally sucked me into the ZPM room. Hitting my head on the central triangular pedestal where the modules were supposed to sit, cursing my own carelessness to high heaven, I tried to stand up. While immensely grateful for the air, even if it was stale. Or rather, its remnants — despite the room's considerable size, water was pouring in at a brisk pace. I had to stop it at all costs.
Fortunately for me, the shield helped resist the water this time too. But I only managed to reach the console and seal the doors when it could do me little good anymore.
Looking around, I realized there was a bit of air right under the ceiling. Not resisting the buoyant force, I floated up there, greedily drawing air into my lungs.
Everything's fine, everything's fine.
Just a little more!
I just needed to swap the ZPMs and everything would be wonderful...
Oh, dammit!
It suddenly got cold. So cold that I barely managed to close my mouth mid-cry to keep from swallowing water.
My body felt like it was being squeezed in a vise from all sides. It got so cold that even the warmth from the ZPM didn't help.
The buoyant force seemed to have lost faith in itself.
As had I in the reliability of the personal shield — thanks to the compartment's lighting, I could watch the device slowly sink. Obviously, it was drained. Lovely. Just lovely.
I had little more than a minute left to live.
Surfacing, I rewarded my lungs with a dose of oxygen, then pushed off the ceiling with my hand and dove.
Pinching my nose with my free fingers, I strained as hard as I could toward my head. For some reason I recalled that this "equalizing" helped relieve excess pressure at great depths.
If it helped, I didn't notice.
My eyes stung, and finding the way to the central pedestal was harder than finding a drunk graduate in the summer.
But I still reached the ZPM receptacle.
ZPM room. Frame from the series. The man is an Ancient named Janus. The woman is the head of the Earth expedition, Elizabeth Weir. The situation occurred during the time travel episode. In the center is the main power hub of Atlantis.
The air I'd managed to gulp down would last me, at most, a minute.
So without delay, I pushed off the energy node and swam to the needed console. There were two of them in the room, but I only needed the one left of the entrance. Preparing for the trip to get the ZPM, I'd learned how to extract them from the installation.
After about ten seconds, when the air in my chest was already burning, all three modules rose up. As expected, none of the three ZPMs glowed — they had no energy. Just three dull yellow crystals.
Swimming up to them, I pulled the nearest one upward, extracting it from its socket. There was almost no air left; I wouldn't make it out before drowning anyway. I could only hope in the thoroughness of the Ancients' algorithms and their short-circuit safety system.
I pulled the "Treasure of Quindozium" I'd brought from inside my jacket and immediately placed it into the empty socket.
Nothing. The crystal should light up when connected.
So why was this damned thing as dark as my prospects?
Dammit! Dark spots were already starting to appear before my eyes. What if this ZPM was empty?! I hadn't even thought to check it before connecting!
My body was practically no longer obeying, wracked with cramps. My vision was blurring; even the slow release of carbon dioxide from my lungs didn't help. That was it, I was done...
Idiot! I had to push it down! Just press it so it would sink into the socket! The expedition fell for the same trick the first time they replaced the crystals!
Gently pressing the crystal, I felt it give way under my push and slide into the depths of the installation.
Excellent.
So, what now?!
My ears were pounding, as if some unknown blacksmith had decided to use my head as an anvil. Nothing had changed, except the lighting had gotten brighter.
Something was going wrong. I was missing something.
I needed time to think.
I let the air lift me toward the ceiling, because my arms and legs were no longer obeying. Preparing to gulp down another portion of oxygen, I pursed my lips, ready for them to break the surface...
But they just touched the ceiling. There was no air pocket left... The seal here wasn't perfect, it seemed.
Son of a bitch!
I'd made it in time! I'd gotten the ZPM! Why should I drown? Everything was going dark before my eyes. My chest was burning with fire, and no matter how hard I tried to prolong my agony by releasing air from my mouth in a thin stream, the realization came that it was time to write off my fate. Damn it! To waste my life so stupidly! Such a chance! And such an end.
Damn those Ancients!
When all the air had left my lungs, and my nearly lifeless body began to sink to the floor of the room, among the darkness before my eyes I saw a tiny point of light.
Well, I'd had my fun. Time to head toward the light at the end of the tunnel.
* * *
On the shore of the Lantean continent, a group of the Ascended had gathered again.
"And that's it," said Ganos Lal. "As I predicted, he didn't make it."
"We all foresaw this," echoed the leader of the Ascended. "Short-sightedness destroyed him."
"Dialing the gate using the city's computer was a huge stupidity," Melia supported. "He had a ship with spare energy. He should have used it."
"Flouting energy economy when the batteries were connected in parallel, knowing that led to the expedition's death, yet still making such a shameful blunder," Ganos Lal shook her head. "Hippaforalkus overestimated the descendants of his genetic line too much."
"On the other hand," said the leader, "Mikhail did obtain a nearly fully charged ZPM. The shield is recovering. The central computer will soon start the room-draining system."
"A pity about that brave boy," said Melia from the height of her age, for whom, like all the Ascended, time flowed very differently. She could allow herself such frivolity. "We could have intervened and saved him. Since the Milky Way is cut off, the Alterans won't stop us."
"We don't know if they perished. And until that's determined for certain, there's still a chance we'll be punished for interference. That's not something our community needs. Therefore, I will stop anyone who tries to break the rules of the Ascended!" the leader warned. "All must not suffer for one's actions. Mikhail did his job according to our plan. The energy reserve will last almost three thousand years in standby mode. In that time, one of our descendants will come for the city..."
He turned and strode toward the forest without finishing. The others followed him, when suddenly the entire community stopped. Instantly they received a message about what had happened.
Rules were being broken. Right now.
The leader turned, examining each of those present. Ever since one of them had committed one of the highest violations, the leader preferred to keep them all in his sight. Because to intervene, one would have to separate from the community.
Then it would immediately become clear what one of them had planned. And who it was. No more time would be wasted searching for the guilty.
But all members of the community were here now.
While the rule was being broken.
The leader turned his gaze to the dimension the Ascended occupied. He had a suspicion about who might be responsible for this. But no, Ran, the only Ascended from the Asgard race, was continuing with her own affairs, ignoring what was happening.
So who then?!
Staring intently into the ocean depths, the leader realized he had missed the moment of higher energy's influence on reality. He sharply turned his head and looked at Ganos Lal.
"What did you do?" he demanded.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied. "I was just preparing a program to search for addresses leading to weapons against the Ori."
"I know the plan!" the man said impatiently. "It was designed for our descendants! But why do I see the city starting to drain the rooms? Now, not at the appointed time for automatic operations?!"
"That can't be!" Ganos looked toward the flooded city. "What... What's happening?! Who's doing this?!"
"I think I know," said Melia. And her tone boded no good. "I think I'll need help from some of us to finally resolve this issue and..."
"It's too late," Ganos Lal said with hatred in her voice, looking at the leader. "It's already done! We have to intervene!"
The man stared for a long time through the ocean depths at the long-abandoned city that was coming back to life.
"I'm sorry," he said, not hiding his disappointment. "But we no longer have the right to do that. It's done."
"Perfect timing," Melia assessed. "Just when we thought it was all over, the interference happened."
"Again this," Ganos Lal said irritably. "He never learns... We have to do something!"
"Unfortunately," the leader repeated, "this is the business of mortals. If we interfere, we break the rules. And the community will be at risk again. I won't allow that. We have all made enormous sacrifices to achieve enlightenment. Does anyone want to renounce Ascension, eliminate the rule violation, and find the path to Ascension again? But on their own this time, so that no one can accuse us of circumventing the rules."
Only a spiritually enlightened being could ascend. Long ago, that could be done solely on one's own. But only until one of the Ascended in the Milky Way found a way to circumvent the rules. She began helping those close to Ascension take the final step on the path to that state.
And she made a terrible mistake.
Now only she, as punishment, could help others ascend. While watching billions perish because of her error. But it was unknown if Oma Desala was still alive. Consequently, the only option was to comprehend the path of Ascension independently. Which, even for the prepared, took most of a lifetime.
The leader looked at his charges. None of them were going to risk their position.
"So we just swallow this?" Ganos Lal inquired. "Create a precedent, instability within the community?"
"No," the leader replied. "We cannot intervene. But there is something we can do. They won't get away with duping us so easily. Not anymore. I'll see to that."