“I have a question,” Ronon cut in.
Everyone turned to the big man.
“I want to know about the sword,” he said. “The sword that was used to fight the Woard. That was no ordinary blade.”
“Very observant,” Saul said. “Very good indeed. No wonder the elders have been sizing you up. I thought it was just your musculature…”
Ronon glared and even Saul seemed somewhat taken aback.
“The weapons differ in every battle, of course,” Saul said. “When the adversary is one of the specials — those bred for extreme size or violence — something has to be done to even the odds. We like a good competition, and we like the bets to be worth our while. No one is entertained by a battle with an obvious outcome. Our weapons are enhanced, of course, to ensure maximum entertainment.” His gaze moved to Sheppard. “You,” he said, “could use one. And you.” He flicked a glance at McKay.
Rodney swallowed. “Me? Are you kidding?”
“We can alter those warriors who choose to fight the specials,” Saul said, studying Ronon with a speculative air, “but the weapons respond so much better to those who are born to them.”
“They wouldn’t work for me,” Ronon said. “I wouldn’t want them.”
“Too much honor,” Saul chuckled. “Of course, something like the Woard might change your mind. Bravery is all well and good, but it is no substitute for life.”
“If you say so.”
Saul didn’t answer, regarding the rest of the group with his half drunken gaze. “You have until morning to make your decisions. Think carefully, my friends, it is the most important decision you have ever made.”
With that he left and Sheppard stood very still until the door had closed behind him tightly.
“We have got to get out of here,” he said as soon as the door was shut. “And fast. Rodney — how’s it going?”
“Slowly,” he replied, as he and Cumby moved back to the tapestry and began running their hands around the seam of the cross pattern they’d been studying. After only a short search, Rodney caught something with his finger, tugged, and the panel of tapestry peeled away. “Or maybe not.”
Behind it, the wall was smooth metal, and set into that metal they saw a square panel. Rodney worked quickly. He pulled a hex key from one of his pockets and quickly unfastened the panel. Behind it, circuits gleamed and lights flashed.
He slipped cables from his pocket, plugged them into his laptop. The other ends of the cables fit snugly into jacks in the access. “Yes,” he muttered, “just the same as Atlantis.”
He tapped some keys, waited, tapped a few more, and then began typing furiously. No one in the room moved, or said a word. Finally, he tapped a final key, and waited. Sheppard found himself holding his breath. Then, suddenly, Rodney raised his hand in a fist, pumped it downward, and said, “Yes!”
“You’re in?” Sheppard guessed.
“Of course I’m in.”
“Great. Now find us something we can use — I have no intention of dying here.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Well?”
Rodney stiffened, but did not turn. “Brilliant as I undoubtedly am, you might give me a full minute in an alien system before you start checking on the status.”
“It’s been two hours.”
“It has?” Rodney glanced at his watch and looked up, blinking. “Hey, where is everyone?”
“Ronon and Teyla went to bed.”
His eyebrows rose. “Together?”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
With a shrug, Rodney got back to work. He moved his connection inside the panel once, then a second time, returned to the keyboard and, finally, with a soft outburst of triumph, he looked up. “It’s familiar in concept, but the layout is completely different. I had to trace the power couplings and work backward. Not sure how deep my access is, and if they have any security protocols running they may know we’re there, but we’re in.”
Sheppard sat up. “Can you reach the DHD configuration?”
“Trying that now,” Rodney said. He fiddled with his computer, waited, and then nodded. “Yes, I can see it but — ”
“No buts,” Sheppard warned. “Buts are always bad.”
“I can see the circuit that provides the phase shift,” Rodney said. “It’s not added on or patched in — they’ve integrated it into the system itself. Without that circuit in place, none of it will work.”
“Can you get around it?”
“Given time,” Rodney said. “If I go in there and just start trying to bypass things, I’m more likely to break the dialing protocol forever. And I don’t have to remind you it’s going to start getting hotter around here very soon.”
“So there’s nothing you can do?”
“I didn’t say that,” Rodney frowned, keying in a set of commands. “Come to think of it, when was there ever ‘nothing’ I could do?”
“So what are you doing?” Cumby said, trying to glance over his shoulder.
“I’m trying to work under incredibly cramped and uncomfortable conditions while idiots babble in my ear. When I’ve done something significant, you’ll be the first to know. Or the second, maybe the third. I’ll be sure to get you on the list.”
Cumby stepped back.
“Don’t mind Rodney,” Sheppard sighed. “Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by his own intellect.”
There was an abrupt knock on the door. Sheppard was on his feet in an instant, he and Cumby stepping between Rodney and the open computer access hatch. But when the door opened, it revealed only Ronon and Teyla returning.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Ronon said with a shrug.
“Rodney was just about to explain whatever it is he just did,” Sheppard said. “That might help.”
Ronon smiled, but said nothing.
“I’ve been thinking,” Cumby said as the door slid shut again. “What if we don’t get the gate working? We’re going to have to make some sort of decision by tomorrow. If they just lock us up, we’ll never get out of here.”
“Oh please,” Rodney muttered, not looking up from his work. “As if there’s even a choice! Eat, drink, and be merry, or go all Russell Crowe in the arena? It’s a no-brainer.”
Ronon glanced up and met Sheppard’s gaze. “The other choice might work.”
Cumby stared. “For you, maybe. How long you think I’d last against something like that Woard?”
“Just hold on,” Sheppard said. “Nobody is making any decisions right this second. But whatever we do, we act as a group. If they separate us, we’re going to have a harder time getting everyone out when we find a way.”
“Yes!” Rodney exclaimed.
Sheppard turned to him, eyebrow raised.
“Sorry,” he said. “But I got the signal. I’ve been able to analyze it and nail down the frequency of the signal that triggers the phase shift. I know what it is that prevents the gate from locking onto an address more than once.”
“And can you fix it?”
“It’s simple,” Rodney said, “and for once I don’t mean it’s simple for me and impossible to explain.”
He placed his computer on a small table and they gathered around. In the center of the screen a modulated sine wave had been captured, numbers and readings surrounding it. Rodney pointed to one.
“This is the frequency of the signal,” he said. “When someone dials an address on the DHD that has already been accessed, this circuit is activated. The symbols that are keyed in on the dialer create a precise pattern keyed to the location they are trying to reach. The circuit that Saul designed causes a shift in the phase of the carrier signal for the code — basically, the data itself remains correct, but the manner of its delivery is changed enough that what is dialed, and what reaches the gate, are two different codes.”