Skipping several steps at a time, nearly dropping the ZPM a few times, I descended to the control center level. I realized immediately that things were dire.
The monitor, thin as good humor, was no longer shimmering with various shades of green. Yes, numerous notes in the Ancients' language were visible on it, but the fact that the city map was rife with red marks did not please me.
The siren methodically invaded my very brain, adding panic to what I saw.
Atlantis was sinking. I didn't know for what reason, 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.
Worse still, 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 central power hub.
I had been on Sudaria for no more than six hours! Based on the time I'd spent in the city and how much of Atlantis had been flooded, I thought I had at least two or three days!
What happened!? Why!?
It was unlikely I had time to look for answers. The Central Spire was rapidly flooding. The ZPM room was not yet underwater, which meant I had time.
But I had to hurry. The nearest transporter in the lower part of the tower was unavailable—it was likely already flooded and outside the shield. Which, damn it all, was rapidly collapsing!
At the moment, only a fraction of a percent of the necessary power remained. Water was already around the Central Spire. The only thing preventing it from rushing inside at the speed of Niagara Falls was the high-quality sealing of the structures.
Classic "they don't make them like they used to" in action.
There was only one option—run down the stairs.
If I'd skipped a couple of steps descending the stairs from the jumper hangar to the Gate Room, I was now flying down nearly half a flight at a time. I was no longer afraid of falling and breaking my neck—the personal shield was still active. But dropping the ZPM was quite possible.
I wondered, could it be broken? If so, would I be vaporized instantly as someone close to the epicenter, or not?
I had to move.
Running, skipping over steps and flights of stairs, my body hurtled toward the base of the tower. There was no time left to ponder what was happening. First, the ZPM would take its place, then I could figure out who was to blame and what to do.
For some reason, it seemed 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 "hire" me for a job and then shit in the well I had to drink from.
I only had one flight of stairs left and a dash to the center of the tower to reach the ZPM room when, jumping off the stairs, I slammed into the water shimmering over the floor of the level I needed.
Icy, goddamn water, the level of which reached my knee in an instant.
What!?
Was it really that bad, that the lower floors of the spire were starting to flood?
Oh, for God's sake! Why do I feel the cold if I'm under a shield?
It clicked in my head—the shield lets air through. It was likely not even the water temperature, but the air temperature.
And the plume of steam erupting from my mouth confirmed the hunch.
Looking at the dark water, illuminated from within by the still-functioning lights in the rooms, I pondered for a few seconds what to do next.
It wasn't too late to return to the hangar, dial the gate address, and flee. To hell with Atlantis; it couldn't be saved now. Down there, everything was flooded, including the ZPM room! To change the depleted ones for a working one, I'd have to expose wiring contacts carrying voltage of such a level that a short circuit would seem like a mercy. Which I likely wouldn't even feel.
Memory helpfully supplied an old physics experiment we'd done in school. Seawater is an excellent conductor of electricity because salts of various elements like sodium, calcium, and other metals are dispersed in it. Any non-hermetic device that ends up in salt water instantly becomes useless. So even if I managed to reach the ZPM room without drowning, and if I managed to remove the old batteries from the distribution hub, the city's power system would react with the seawater and...
"Belay the panic, damn it!" I shouted to myself, taking my first steps into the water. Well, "steps." It was already almost up to my knees.
I wouldn't say I was ever the best swimmer in the world, but calculating how much time I'd need to wade—running was no longer an option—to the coveted room, I concluded I'd have to swim after all. I thought there would still be air in the ZPM room; I just needed to get there.
The ocean was relentlessly cramping my limbs. Taking a couple of steps back, I mentally ordered the shield to deactivate. As soon as the green haze around me vanished, I unzipped my tunic, throwing it off. And I immediately shoved the ZPM under my undershirt.
The device seemed to radiate warmth, which wouldn't hurt. Mentally asking the shield not to explode, I attached it to my trousers. The personal device worked normally. Well, there you go, and you were worried... Even the energy in the ZPM remained. Probably.
I returned to the water.
Another step, another... The ZPM room, according to the plan on the Ancient scanner, was only one level below. I could walk there!
But I shouldn't walk; I'd suffocate.
But swimming...
A strange feeling—the ocean all around, icy at that, and I'm dry... my brain categorically refused to accept this as a given. And so, without thinking, I took a deep breath and dove.
The water resisted, as if trying to throw me back, to push me out. I looked at the handheld, memorizing the map of the path to the ZPM room. Then I tossed the scanner aside and, clutching 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 do it in time, I'd drown because hoping to surface inside the building, and in total darkness at that, was a long shot. Truly incredible.
It was too late for hope. I could only rely 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 completely green. I gather that the stronger the impact on it, the brighter it becomes. Which was good. I'm a goddamn Green Lantern! Tremble before me, oceanic depths; I'll give you a heater the size of the Titanic!
The scene was pure gloom. In the middle of a futuristic city, surrounded by flooded high technology, a person glowing like a Christmas tree was swimming into the darkness.
I reached the coveted doors when my lungs were already beginning to burn from lack of oxygen. Why does everything run out so fast!? I'm in a young body, from the time of my army youth! I was a swimmer then and even beat several guys from the sports company at breaststroke!
Starting to slowly release air through a thin slit in 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 piece of shit!
"Normal heroes..."
Somehow prying up a decorative plate, I tore it off and looked at the extinguished crystals. Three of them in a vertical row. Well, remove one, use it to short the other two... I recalled the expedition doing something similar in a matching situation.
Taking a deep breath, I dove.
Goddamn builders! Why the hell doesn't this lock work underwater?
It didn't work. Not on the first try, nor on the second.
I'd held onto the hope that this room wasn't flooded; after all, it was one of the city's main compartments. But it wasn't even thinking of opening!
And that's when it became truly terrifying. If the door didn't open, I would simply drown. The corridor was already flooded, as was the floor above me. No chance of swimming out of here alive. And as soon as Atlantis was completely flooded—lights out, throw a grenade. The pressure would simply crush me. My ears were already aching—the water rising from below was forcing the oxygen upward, compressing it several times over. A classic example of compression forming in a piston engine's combustion chamber.
However, there was still a chance. I didn't feel a water current toward the door leading into the ZPM room, which meant either everything was already flooded there, or the compartment's seal was intact. The chances were about the same as meeting a living Ancient in the city.
I didn't have much exhaled air left at my disposal. As soon as it ran out, panic would set in. Whether I wanted it to or not, my brain would realize my imminent death, and the dance with tambourines would begin.
I was doing something wrong with the crystals. Which one did I have to remove and which ones did I have to short? Only two options—either use the top one to short the bottom and center ones, or use the bottom one for the top and middle ones.
Wait! What if I had to swap them!?
Exactly!
I had to remove one crystal, swap it with the center one, and then use the center one to short them.
It didn't work the first time.
But as soon as the top one was in the middle one's place, the console lit up with internal backlighting! Now that was something!
Shorting the crystals, frame from the series.
It worked. And I wasn't even electrocuted. Good thing the circuit didn't burn out either. Oh, thank you builders for providing a safety margin. The door leaves swung open, revealing an empty room to me.
The resulting flow of water literally sucked me into the ZPM room. Hitting my head against the central triangular pedestal where the modules should be placed, I cursed my own sloppiness for all I was worth and tried to stand up. At the same time, I was genuinely glad for the stale, yet still present air. More precisely, its remnants: despite the room's substantial size, the water was pouring in very briskly. I had to stop this at any cost.
Fortunately for me, the shield helped resist the water this time as well. But I only managed to reach the console and lock the doors when it was of little help.
Looking around, I realized there was a bit of air right under the ceiling. Not resisting the buoyant force, I floated up there, greedily sucking air into my lungs.
It's okay, it's okay.
Just a little bit more!
I just need to swap the ZPMs and everything will be wonderful...
Oh, for God's sake!
It suddenly became cold. So much so that I barely managed to close my mouth in a cry to keep from swallowing water.
My body felt as if it were being squeezed from all sides by a vise. It became so cold that even the warmth emanating from the ZPM wasn't helping me.
The buoyant force seemed to lose faith in itself.
As did I in the reliability of the personal shield—thanks to the lighting in the compartment, I could watch the device slowly sink. I see, it had run out of charge. Lovely, just lovely.
I had barely more than a minute to live.
Surfacing, I rewarded my lungs with a portion of oxygen, then pushed off the ceiling with my hand and dove.
Pinching my nose with my free fingers, I began to "blow" into my head with all my might. For some reason, I remembered that this "equalization" helps at great depths to get rid of excess pressure.
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 summer.
But I reached the ZPM receptacle nonetheless.
The ZPM room. Frame from the series. The man is an Ancient named Janus. The woman is the head of the Earthlings' expedition, Elizabeth Weir. The situation occurred during the time travel episode. In the center is Atlantis's main power hub.
The air I'd managed to swallow would last me a minute at most.
Therefore, without delay, I pushed off the power hub and swam to the necessary console. There are two of them in the room in total, but I only needed the one to the left of the entrance. Preparing for the trip for the ZPM, I'd learned how to extract them from the unit.
Ten seconds later, when the air in my chest was already starting to burn, all three modules slid upward. As expected, all three ZPMs were not glowing—there was no energy in them. Just three dull yellow crystals.
Swimming up to them, I pulled the nearest one upward, extracting it from its socket. Almost no air remained; I wouldn't manage to escape from here before I drowned anyway. I could only hope for the sophistication of the Ancients' algorithms and their safety system against short circuits.
I took out the "Treasure of Quindozium" I'd brought with me from my tunic and immediately placed it into the empty socket.
Nothing. The crystal should light up when connected.
So why was this pest dark as my prospects?
Oh, damn it! Dark spots had already begun to appear in my eyes. What if this ZPM is empty!? I hadn't even thought to check it before connecting it!
My body had practically stopped obeying, seized by cramps. My mind was clouding over; even the slow release of carbon dioxide from my lungs wasn't helping. That was it; the end...
You piece of an idiot! You have to lower it! Just press down so it enters the socket! The expedition fell for that same trick during the first crystal replacement too!
Pressing lightly on the crystal, I felt it give under my pressure and slide into the depths of the unit.
Excellent.
So, what next!?
My ears were pounding as if some unknown blacksmith intended to use my head as an anvil. Nothing had changed, except the lighting had become brighter.
Something was going wrong. I'd missed something.
I needed time to think.
I allowed the air to lift me to the ceiling because my arms and legs were no longer obeying. Preparing to swallow another portion of oxygen, I pouted my lips, ready for them to slip out of the water...
But they simply touched the ceiling. There was no longer any air pocket... It seemed the seal here wasn't perfect.
Oh, you bitch!
After all, I'd made it! I'd gotten the ZPM! Why do I have to drown! Things were starting to go dark. My chest was on fire, and no matter how much I tried to prolong my agony by releasing air from my mouth in a thin stream, the realization came that it was time to put a cross on my fate. Damn it! To waste my life so incompetently! Such a chance! And such an end.
To hell with these Ancients!
When the last of the air left my lungs and my practically breathless body began to settle onto the room's floor, amidst the darkness before my eyes, I saw a tiny point of light.
Well, I'm done playing. Time to head for the light at the other end of the tunnel.
* * *
On the shore of the Lantean continent, a group of Ascended had gathered again.
"That is all," Ganos Lal spoke. "As I suspected, he failed."
"We all foresaw this," the Ascended leader echoed her. "Shortsightedness destroyed him."
"Launching the gate using the city's computer was a great folly," Melia supported. "He had a ship with a power supply. He should have used it."
"To boast of energy savings with batteries connected in parallel, to know that this led to the death of the expedition, yet to allow such a disgraceful blunder," Ganos Lal shook her head. "Hippaforalkus greatly overestimated the descendants of his genetic line."
"On the other hand," the leader said, "Mikhail obtained a nearly fully charged ZPM. The shield is restoring. The central computer will soon launch the room-draining system."
"I pity this brave boy," from the height of her age, Melia, for whom time flowed quite differently as for all the Ascended, could allow herself such a frivolity. "We could interfere and save him. Since the Milky Way is cut off, the Alterans won't stop us."
"We do not know if they perished. And until that is established with certainty, there remains a chance we will be punished for interference. Our community does not need that. Therefore, I will stop anyone who tries to break the Ascended rules!" the leader warned. "The actions of one should not cause all to suffer. Mikhail did his job in accordance with our plan. The energy reserve will last nearly three thousand years in standby mode. During that time, one of our descendants will come for the city..."
He turned and began walking toward the forest without finishing. The others followed him when, suddenly, the entire collective stopped. Instantly, they received a message about what had occurred.
Rules were being broken. Right now.
The leader turned, examining each of those present. Since one of them had committed one of the highest violations, the leader preferred to keep them all in his sight. After all, interference would require separating from the collective.
And then it would become immediately clear what one of them intended. And who it was. No more time would need to be wasted searching for the guilty.
But all members of the collective were here now.
While the rule was being broken.
The leader turned his gaze to the dimension occupied by the Ascended. He had a suspicion about who specifically was responsible for such a thing. But no, Ran, the only Ascended of the Asgard race, continued to go about her business, ignoring what was happening.
Then who!?
Looking closely into the oceanic depths, the leader realized he had missed a moment of supreme energy influencing reality. He snapped his head around and looked at Ganos Lal.
"What have you done?" he demanded an answer.
"I do not understand what you mean," she replied. "I only prepared a program to search for addresses leading to a weapon against the Ori."
"I know the plan!" the man said impatiently. "It was developed for our descendants! But why do I see the city has begun to drain the rooms! Now, and not at the allotted time for automatic systems!?"
"That cannot be!" Ganos looked toward the flooded city. "What... what is happening!? Who is doing this!?"
"I think I know," Melia said. And her tone boded nothing good. "I think I will need the help of some of us to finally resolve the issue and..."
"It is too late," Ganos Lal said with hatred in her voice, looking at the leader. "It is already done! We must interfere!"
The man looked through the oceanic depths for a long time at the long-abandoned city that was returning to life.
"I regret it," he spoke, not hiding his disappointment. "But we no longer have the right. It is all done."
"A well-timed moment," Melia evaluated. "When we decided it was all over, interference occurred."
"That again," Ganos Lal said irritably. "Will never learn... We must do something!"
"Unfortunately," the leader repeated, "this is a matter for mortals. If we interfere, we break the rules. And the collective will be under attack again. I will not allow it. We have all made enormous sacrifices to achieve enlightenment. Does anyone wish to renounce Ascension, eliminate the rule violation, and find the path to Ascension again? But independently, so that no one can reproach us for bypassing the rules."
Only a spiritually enlightened being could ascend. A long time ago, it could be done exclusively on one's own. But only until one of the Ascended in the Milky Way found a way to bypass the rules. She began helping those close to Ascension to take the final step toward that state.
And she made a terrible mistake.
Now only she, as punishment, could help someone ascend. And at the same time watch as billions perished because of her mistake. But it is unknown if Oma Desala is alive. Consequently, the only option is to master the path of Ascension independently. Which takes most of a lifetime even for those who are prepared.
The leader looked at his subordinates. None of them intended to risk their position.
"So we're just going to swallow this?" Ganos Lal inquired. "Create a precedent, instability within the collective?"
"No," the leader replied. "We cannot interfere. But there is something we can still do. It won't be that easy to lead us by the nose. No more. I will see to that."