Futura Memoratia

Chapter 9 obses (hostage)

She touched her hair self-consciously and nodded, moving to the other side of the device.

He rubbed his hands together and raised his eyebrows at her in anticipation.  “Ok, on three.  One. . . two. . . three!”  

She locked eyes with him, concentrating, and when he said three, she pressed on the door at the same time he did.  He watched as her expression went from concentration to surprise and then rapidly to horror.  He looked down and realized what her expression was about.  His hand had been sucked into the machine and was being held there—gently, but firmly.  “Oh, no.  No, no, no, no, no,” he said, sending her a shocked look.

“Dr. McKay, I can’t seem to remove my hand from the device,” she uttered in a strangled voice.

He braced his other hand against the device and pulled.  The harder he pulled, the tighter the constriction against his wrist became, until he felt his fingertips tingle.  He could hear things engaging and moving inside the machine.  He eased up on the pressure and he felt the circulation return to his fingers.

He glared at her.  “Are you certain this is a genetics device at all?  It seems more like some kind of device meant to keep a couple of prisoners together or something.”

“All I know for certain is that it was found in a genetics lab.  I would think something meant for prisoners wouldn’t need to be this large or elaborate.  What are the liquids inside for?”  She looked terrified.

His next thought was lethal injection but he swallowed convulsively and kept that thought to himself because she looked like she was already on the verge of a panic attack. 

“What should we do?” she implored, then gasped, her gaze flying back to the machine.  

He felt it too.  Something inside the machine was wetting his fingers with a cold solution of some kind.  He went to tap his radio, but the hand he usually used wasn’t up for the task at the moment, so he awkwardly made use of the other one.  “Radek?  This is McKay.  I need you to come down to the archeology lab ASAP.”  He smiled at her nervously while he waited for a reply.  He glanced at his watch and suddenly felt something roughly abrading his forefinger.  He heard Emily whimper.  “Ow!  Dammit.  Radek!” he bellowed.

“McKay?  Is that you?” he heard faintly over a loud rushing sound which promptly shut off.

“Yes it’s me.  Get your ass down to the archeology lab.  Dr. Freedman and I. . . we have. . . we need assistance immediately.” 

He heard a sigh over the radio.  “Fine.  But it will take a few minutes.  I was just taking a shower.  What kind of assistance do you need?”

“Our hands are stuck in a device.  Just get down here.”  He frowned and couldn’t stop himself from asking, “You wear your radio in the shower?”

“I must have forgotten to take it off.  It’s very late.  Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Just hurry, ok?  McKay out.”  He glanced at Emily.  She had a strange, contorted look on her face.  “He just got off his shift in the control room.  I was hoping to catch him, but. . . he’s already gone back to his quarters.”

She seemed to cough and struggle to say, “Did you just say he was wearing his radio in the shower?”

“What?  Didn’t you just hear our conversation?”

She made a strange sound in the back of her throat and stuttered, “No, I don’t have. . . my radio on at the moment.”  Then she started laughing hysterically.  She turned away, as much as she could, and covered her mouth with her free hand, her hair falling forward, bouncing with each convulsive laugh.