How do they put it — "consciousness returned with a jolt"?
Never understood that expression. Until now.
Only this time, it truly felt like someone had flipped a switch in my head. The brain turned on, aware of the last thing that had stuck in my mind.
A ZPM room filled with water; me — frozen, choking without a breath of air. For no apparent reason, I jerked forward.
Already opening my eyes mid-motion.
The first thing I saw — and then felt — was a massive brown rectangular block that emitted a greenish glow onto my body. And that it was harder than my forehead.
"Goddamn it!" I yelled, collapsing back… onto the bed.
Realizing that I could, without any effort, breathe again — inhaling the wonderfully tasteless, perfectly ordinary air. I could fill my lungs, hold it, exhale…
And not worry that my head and body were about to be crushed by pressure of several atmospheres, if not more.
Above me, the same rectangular device hung on a mechanical arm, gliding methodically down over my body, casting a grid of tiny green squares across my skin.
"A medical scanner!" I muttered, realizing what was going on.
Atlantis had no shortage of technological marvels that would make any professional drool.
Among them — this medical bay, equipped with the finest technology. At least in the show, they'd only ever displayed the medical scanner. Ancient design, of course.
I didn't remember exactly what the thing was actually good for, but for the expedition members it easily detected internal damage, parasites, nanites in the bloodstream, tumors, and so on. Something between an MRI and a CT scanner in one. Wouldn't surprise me if it could illuminate me down to the molecular level.
All that was wonderful, no doubt.
The only question was — how the hell did I end up here?!
The infirmary was somewhere in the Central Spire — I remembered that much. But during my time on Atlantis, I'd only stopped in once, immediately realized I didn't understand half of what was going on here, and promptly forgot the way.
The Atlantis medical scanner. Frame from the series.
And I certainly couldn't have walked here on my own. Not unconscious, at least! I'd have soaked everything around in liters of ocean water…
Speaking of which!
Noticing I was lying on a "hospital bed" in nothing but underwear — and not even the same pair I wore during my unplanned dive — I decided it was time to maintain some dignity.
Clearly, I hadn't saved myself or dragged my own body here. Someone else was in the city. Unlikely to be an enemy, since at the very least there'd be guards posted — or, more likely, they wouldn't bother saving me at all. Whoever they were, if they could operate an Ancient medical scanner, then they carried the ATA Gene. And that meant…
A chill ran down my spine.
Could it be… the Ancients had returned?
Interesting. The creators of the Stargates — supposedly the most advanced of humankind's lineages across galaxies — had come home, and here I was, barefoot and half-naked. Improper, to say the least.
Looking around, I found nothing I could wear. Nor did I find my weapon. Everything was sterile — pure, hospital-level sterile.
Indeed, I was in a hospital. Exploring its hallways, I found an isolation ward, operating rooms, patient beds. Not a shred of human technology — purely alien design.
For a moment I thought maybe the expedition had returned. But dismissed it as quickly — I'd have seen at least a couple of people. Guards. Medics.
But there wasn't a single soul.
In short — enough thinking, time to act.
I needed to find out who was running the city, and why the hell they hadn't helped while I was drowning in freezing water. First, though, I needed a weapon.
That narrow decorative panel over there looked like a decent improvised spear.
"I have only one question," came a voice behind me. "What, in the name of all scientific knowledge, are you doing?"
The panel popped off easily from the floor. I turned, panel in hand, showing off my ability to hide objects behind my back with pure dexterity.
"You won't believe it," I sighed in relief, seeing who stood before me. "My contact lens rolled away."
The young woman — Latin-looking, dark hair, sharp eyes — couldn't hide her confusion.
"You lie as poorly as you plan," she said dryly. "For your information, the medical scanner reported no anomalies in your condition. Though, honestly, I'm starting to doubt the device's calibration."
"And why's that?"
"You must have brain trauma if you're saying things like that," she replied without the hint of a smile, crossing her arms over her modestly displayed chest. "Please return the panel and reseal the energy channel from foreign intrusion. I'm not your enemy. I hope you aren't mine either."
"Depends on your intentions toward my city," I answered, setting the panel down.
"Your city?" one eyebrow arched sharply.
"You can check the main computer — it's listed as such," I nodded. "Melia promised."
"Oh, Melia promised, did she?" She tilted her head. "Well then, who am I to argue? I only came to help. My name is…"
"Chaya Sar, also known as Athar," I finished for her. "Don't bother — I know all about you."
A faint shadow crossed the woman's face. Her posture stiffened; her tiny fists clenched, knuckles whitening.
Wait a minute… can Ascended beings even get tense?
Chaya Sar.
"And what exactly do you know about me?" she asked, steel laced in her voice.
"You were an Ancient — one of the Ascended," I recalled. "At some point, while living among local villagers, you decided to defend them from the Wraith and interfered. The others punished you — exile to this planet."
I couldn't help but notice her sigh of relief.
"Apparently your memory's quite intact, Mikhail," she said, wary eyes on me.
"So we know each other in absentia — but I don't recall meeting in person," I said, shaking my head.
"If you hadn't drowned, we would've met — there, where you choked on seawater." She smiled faintly. "But you chose to overdo the drowning part."
"I suppose my rescue was your doing?"
"Yes, but…"
"Thank you," I cut her off. "If not for you, I'd be gone. Hope the other Ascended took your… interference kindly?"
"They did, in their way," she smiled sadly, glancing aside. "They only erased most of my memories from that era, removed my Ascended powers, knowledge… Everything. If I ever try to regain it, they'll stop me — permanently this time."
"I—wait, what? You were an Ascended… they… 'cast you down'?"
"I'm mortal again," she said softly, showing mercy to my stammering.
"A punishment for breaking the non-interference rule," I nodded knowingly. "My condolences…"
"I don't need your pity," she said sharply. "It was my choice — to intervene and save you. Otherwise, you'd have drowned, and Atlantis would still be at the bottom. Which, frankly, would suit the Pegasus community of Ascended just fine."
"Is that a joke?" I asked. "They asked me for help saving the city."
I added the last part quietly.
Of course. Those schemers!
They needed me to save the city — not survive with it! Apparently, they decided to fix Hippophoralkus' mistakes at my expense. Correct their record without breaking the rules themselves.
Clever. I'll remember that trick. And find a way to pay it back — once I confirm it.
***
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