Chapter Text
Rodney stepped out of the gate into a huge gate room that looked as if it could have been built by humans – though of course it must have been built by the Ancients.
The gate room was clearly located within a large building, or perhaps a large building complex.
Of course, without an external view, or a clear and measurable line of sight from one end to another – if in fact the city were linear, which they hadn’t yet ascertained – there was no way to calculate its dimensions, but it was obviously huge.
The room next to the gate room was filled with electrical devices – screens and computers and such – that activated themselves when people walked by.
“This place is amazing,” Rodney said.
It would be even more amazing when he figured out what, specifically, the devices were, and what they did.
The technology – they’d only seen the beginning. There was sure to be more – the power system, transports, food production, manufacturing – none of them had any idea of the extent of the Ancients’ capabilities.
Of course, some of their technology was simple.
Motion sensors activated the lighting systems and a variety of electronic devices and monitors and the like as people passed – including himself, so the activation obviously wasn’t predicated on possession of the ATA gene.
Actually operating the systems, on the other hand …
He needed that gene. He’d looked closely at half a dozen computer systems already, and tried thinking of maps, blueprints, dimensions, external views, internal views of specific systems … nothing.
He couldn’t control a thing.
So focus on what you can do, he told himself.
He could familiarize himself with what was there.
He looked up from the sixth computer system he’d already determined he couldn’t use.
Yet.
The security people he’d been accompanying were walking quickly down a long corridor, rapidly approaching a door at the end of it.
Rodney hurried to catch up.
The door opened, and the soldiers entered the room ahead.
Rodney followed.
He looked around … and froze.
The wall on the left was glass, or Plexiglas – or transparent aluminum, for all he knew.
It was definitely transparent.
And there was definitely water on the other side.
They were underwater.
The city was surrounded by water.
You don’t know that. This could be an … aquarium. Inside the city. It could be very, very, very small.
One of the soldiers walked right up to the glass wall – and looked up. “We’re underwater,” he said.
Wonderful.
Rodney stepped closer.
He was right.
They were underwater. He could see sunlight above the surface, but he couldn’t tell how far above it was.
At least 75 metres. It had to be at least 75 metres.
That wasn’t good. They were under hundreds of thousands of cubic kilometres of water, pressing in on them at … he didn’t know.
He couldn’t calculate the pressure.
It was a lot. Obviously. More than seven atmospheres. But he needed to know how much!
He needed to know how deep they were, how big the city was, how closely the gravitational pull of Atlantis – or, more relevantly, that of the planet on which it was submerged – matched that of Earth.
There was a computer there, in the room.
Rodney hurried over to it.
Its screen glowed, but didn’t do anything else, no matter what he tried to think at it to do. “Come on, come on, come on, come on!” he yelled.
No response.
“Sir? Can I help you with something?” one of the soldiers asked.
“I don’t know, Lieutenant! How could I possibly know that? I don’t know your name, let alone your genetic status or your technical skills with respect to human technology on Earth! How could I possibly know your technical capability with respect to this … this damned alien computer?!”
The soldier just looked at him. “I’m Sandro Ortiz, sir. I don’t have the ATA gene.”
“I do,” one of the other soldiers spoke up. “But I haven’t tried to use any of the devices here.”
“Well, try!” Rodney snapped.
“Yes, sir.” The soldier approached the computer.
The screen … shifted. Its colours changed, but it didn’t do anything useful.
“What do you want me to try?” the soldier asked.
“Anything! Maps, blueprints, schematics – anything that’ll tell us how deep we are, how much pressure this place is withstanding, how the hell glass and metal and-and-and whatever else this place is made of hasn’t completely imploded!”
“Understood.”
The sergeant turned his attention to the computer.
Rodney waited impatiently, watching the screen and trying not to think of the water pressing in on the city at an as-yet-undetermined pressure.
He couldn’t think of anything else. Just the water, pressing in; the walls collapsing in on him …
Don’t, he told himself. Don’t think of that.
But he couldn’t think of anything else.
Something was wrong. His heart was racing. He hadn’t noticed that before, but it was. He was shaking, too. Even though the building wasn’t really all that cold.
You just need to eat something. That’s all, he told himself. He pulled out a bar from his jacket pocket and ate it.
It didn’t help. The water was still pressing in on the city, and –
“Dr. McKay?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ll want to take a look at this, sir.”
Rodney looked at the screen.
It had changed. It was no longer just showing colours.
Now, it was showing a structure, from several different perspectives. The largest showed what seemed to be a plan view of a city comprised of a central hub, filled with towers of differing heights, with six sections radiating out from the centre, themselves comprising a combination of flat, level areas – possibly docks or landing areas – and taller buildings.
If the image specified dimensions, he couldn’t see them. Or recognize them.
Of course, even if it did, the numbers would be meaningless without knowing the conversion into metric – or any other known Terran system.
“Sir! I found something!” the soldier announced.
“I know. I’m looking at it.”
“No – well, yeah. I found the image. But take a look at this!” he gestured to one of the smaller images, one that showed a shimmering outline surrounding the city.
“A forcefield?” Ortiz suggested.
Rodney nodded. “Yeah! It’s got to be! That’s how the city’s withstanding the water pressure!”
He turned away from the transparent wall.
It was perfectly safe.
The water wasn’t going to cause an implosion – at least not while the forcefield held. “It’s held for thousands of years. It can hold a little longer,” he said.
“Uh, yes, sir,” Ortiz said.
Rodney nodded. “Good. That’s good.” He turned and walked out of the room.
The city was huge. It was filled with rooms to explore and technology to figure out.
He would start by exploring the rooms that did not look out on the surrounding water.