Claire felt the nails of her interlaced fingers dig into the innocent flesh of her hands.  Doctor Carter was glaring at Mel with impossibly wide, round blue eyes, her mouth slightly ajar. 

Damn.  She wasn't believing it.  And Mel wouldn't want to demonstrate anything until she satisfied his requirements for discretion. 

Tearing her gaze away from Mel, the physicist jerked her head around to stare at the squat, apparently innocuous object in the corner of the room.  Claire found her attention ridiculously diverted to the smooth sway of the other woman's sleek blond bob.  

'Wonder how she does that?'  A lifetime of wrestling with stubbornly flyaway hair awoke a moment of absurd envy in Claire's thoughts.  'Maybe it takes advanced physics to make every hair behave.'

Cheeks warming, she forced her nervous attention back to the intellectual contest being waged between her husband and the younger scientist.

"You're suggesting that this… device allows a connection between… what?  Different universes?"  The skepticism dripped from her voice.

"Not exactly.  Other versions of this universe."  Mel leaned forward with his characteristic intensity.  "I've read a few articles…"

"Articles?"

"Ah, yes.  In… well, in Skeptic, to be precise…"

"Skeptic!"

Mel's cheeks pinked slightly.  "Er… um… It's a… well… I guess you could say a guilty pleasure.  But it's often quite scholarly!"

"A guilty pleasure."  Doctor Carter shook her head in rather scandalized bemusement.  "And based on this, you're proposing…"

"I'm suggesting that we consider the possibility that there's something behind those hypotheses about multiple, branching realities!" Mel snapped.  "You're a physicist, Doctor Carter.  You surely aren't going to suggest that you don't know very well about these proposals!"

"Of course I do!  As a source of intellectual discussion and philosophical one-upmanship among my fringier colleagues!  But none of them has been hare-brained enough to suggest that one could simply… take a stroll from one of their hypothetical universal steams to another!"

Claire fixed her gaze on Doctor Carter's outraged face.  "And are you going to suggest that Whatever It Is that is producing all of these essentially impossible artifacts General West has been passing along to us is right in line with current main-stream physics?"

For a long moment, the atmosphere in the small laboratory shivered with tension.  Slowly, Doctor Carter leaned back in her chair, staring at Claire and Mel. 

"What do you know about that?"  Her voice was hard.

"Nothing," Claire rapped.  "Yet.  But that is going to change if we're going to continue to work with this project."

Carter's head was shaking back and forth.  "I'm afraid that just won't be possible.  This is a high-security..."

"Bullshit."  Mel slapped his hand sharply on the desktop.  "There's no way we can continue without knowing more about what is going on here.  In fact, if we're to continue discussing this… dimensional pathway, I want your assurance that you won't take anything to West or any of the other military personnel.  At least not until we can figure out just what we have.  You've only heard a fraction of what I've discovered, and you have no notion of the potential hazards of that thing if what I suspect is even close to the truth!"

Carter's mouth tightened.  "This project's security coverage is absolutely essential.  The military consequences…"

"Ah, yes.  The military angle."  The scornful edge of Mel's voice cut through the physicist's words.  "Doctor Carter, you are a scientist.  A very fine one, if rumor is to be believed.  You certainly understand the absolute necessity that information be freely circulated if advances in scientific understanding are to be nurtured.  This miasma of pathological secrecy taints everything we discover here."

"Doctor Jackson, you know…"

"Doctor Carter… Sam…"  Claire leaned across the desk and grasped the younger woman's hand.  "Let go of the military perspective for a moment.  You've seen the translations.  You've seen the analyses of some of the artifacts.  We're talking extremely destructive forces, here.  And we're very conscious of the potential devastation possible if our military gets control of such devices."

Back stiffening under her white lab coat, Carter jerked to her feet.  "My father is career military.  I don't appreciate…"

"Please.  Think like the scientist you were trained to be!  Let your conclusions be shaped by the data, not by your conditioning.  Our military is not famed for its depth of analytical thought, nor for its contemplation of long-term consequences. And certainly not for consideration of the good of those beyond our borders."

"My father…"

"Your father is one man.  Perhaps he's atypical for a military man, but he's one man."   Claire stood and leaned her hands on the table, gaze fixed determinedly on Carter's face.  "Can you honestly look at our country's military background—particularly recently--and say you're content to trust them to make deeply considered decisions about what appear to be devastatingly powerful devices?"

An uncharacteristically uncertain expression crept over Carter's face.  A flush of color touched her cheeks as she flicked her gaze toward the frame device crouching, indifferent and vaguely malevolent, in the corner of the room.

Leaning back in his chair, Mel contemplated her grimly.  "And, of course, there's the current political situation to consider as well.  The recent election…"

Carter's eyes squeezed tightly shut, and she slowly lowered herself back into her chair.  "Oh, God.  You just don't even suspect…"  She heaved a deep sigh.  "God, who would have believed the American public could elect that man."

She opened her eyes and stared at the other two.  "The president has some… strong opinions about this project.  He also has strong opinions about the country's military position."

The sound Mel produced could only be described as a snort.  "Ah, yes.  What were the slogans?  'Security Through Strength!'  'Power Preserves!'  And what was it he said at the inauguration?  Something about the responsibility of the powerful to keep the weak under control?"

The moue of the physicist's mouth confirmed her agreement with his opinion of the new president.

Claire grimaced.  "I'm sure we could get the Russians to confirm how grateful they were for the 'supporting' hand we offered after their government collapsed.  Providing we agreed to return the materials we so glibly plundered.  Not to mention the intellectual drain.  How many 'resituated' Soviets are working here, Doctor Carter?"

"Actually, none.  This project is too…"

"…Secret," Mel interjected.  "Can't let anyone but true blue patriots get close to the Big Whatever, now can we?  On the other hand, how much of the pilfered Soviet research and technology has found its way here?"

Cheeks flushing, Carter ducked her head.  After a moment, she lifted rueful blue eyes and grimaced.  "That's a rather touchy subject, frankly.  And one which, at this time, I can't discuss with you.  But… let's just say you're making your point fairly persuasively."

Mel tilted his silvered head, contemplating her with the calm reserve so typical of his approach to life.  "So, you agree to keep what I show you to yourself?"

"You know I can't promise that."

Mel stood.  "Then we are finished here.  And we'll be tendering our resignations immediately.  This has gone beyond anything to which we can, in conscience, devote ourselves."

Claire rose to her feet and moved closer to her husband, holding Carter's blue gaze with her own.  "I know what it is that they've been having me translate, Doctor Carter.  I'm not in the least inclined to help my government's military develop such terrible things.  No more.  Not without knowing in what you and General West have entangled us."

Carter's white teeth worried her lower lip as she contemplated their united front. 

"All right.  For now… I'll keep this frame thing to myself.  We can discuss the other thing later.  I'm still waiting for you to convince me that the frame is anything like what you're claiming it is."

For several seconds they stared at each other, then Mel nodded sharply.  He reached into a desk drawer and drew out the triangular control device.

"Allow me to show you what we've discovered."

Sam was once again examining the mirror's frame minutely, magnifying device cranked to its highest capacity.  This made nine times.  And she still couldn't find any seam or catch which would allow access to its mysterious interior.

"Sam!" The exclamation accompanied the archaeological whirlwind that slammed through the lab's door.

"Hey, Daniel," she greeted, gratefully straightening up from her infuriating task.

Eagerly, he dropped onto the floor beside her.  His hands clutched an unruly stack of papers and books—some of his journals.  The majority of the loose pages were covered with his precise notations.

Sam arched and stretched her back, listening to the vertebrae pop.  She grinned up into his bright eyes. "You find something?"

"I… I think so."  He dropped most of his burden onto the floor, carefully retaining one thin sheaf of papers.  "Look…"  He thrust the pages in front of her face.  "This text style matches one of the Rosetta panels we found on Ernest's planet.  I've been able to identify the Asgard script, and the Ancients'.  I'm pretty sure I've figured out which of the other two comes from the Nox.  This is the fourth.   Which would make it…"

"The Furlings."

"Right!  We've only found a few bits of text which match this.  But look here…"  He shuffled through the pages of his writing, finally pulling one out of the stack.  "I'm making a bit of progress translating the language, based on the assumption that the four panels on Ernest's planet all carried the same text.  And this… this bit right here…"  His finger gently traced a line of what looked to Sam like imprints from a pigeon's feet.  "I'm pretty sure this says something like, 'step across,' or 'over, the…' um… maybe 'threshold.'  And this, 'self to self…' something something 'in time, destroy.'"

She nodded slowly.  "Yeah.  That could fit.  Especially that 'in time, destroy' bit."  She shuddered, remembering her alternate self assaulted by entropic cascades.  "So…"

"So I think the mirror may have been made by the Furlings."

"Makes sense.  Still doesn't help me figure the stupid thing out, though!"

She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.  The eagerness drained from his face, leaving his features schooled into that mask she hated so.

"Daniel…"

He pulled away from her hand, carefully restacking his books and papers. 

"Sorry, Sam."

"Hey, this could mean a lot, Daniel.  First, you've got the rest of that text to translate.  Maybe it'll tell us something about all of this.  Maybe it'll even tell us how to control entropic cascade failure.  And now at least we have a pretty good idea of just who made the mirrors."

He nodded tightly, then, clutching his papers, stood.  "I'll just go back to my office and… work on this."

"Wait!  I need a break.  Come get something to eat?"

He hesitated, and finally nodded.  "I'll drop these off in my office and meet you in the commissary."

As she watched his backside slip out the door, she curbed the irrational urge to stamp her foot in frustration.

Claire felt the corners of her mouth twitch in rebellious humor.  The expression on Doctor Carter's face would have rivaled any four-year-old on Christmas morning. 

"Don't!" Mel exclaimed, grabbing a reaching hand.  "I really don't think you want to touch the surface while it's activated, Doctor."

Carter shook herself slightly.  "I… I guess you're right.  But my God!  I've never seen anything like this!"

"So… how are alternate time streams looking to you these days?"

She favored him with a small scowl.  "Let's not be premature.  We're a long way from such a conclusion."  She turned back to the device, gaze rapt with fascination.  "But, in my deeply considered scientific opinion… Wow!"

The three of them stared for a moment at the small collection of objects lying on the floor of the mirrored view.  Mel had dialed to an image of a dimly lit room that looked like some kind of store room, and they'd been experimenting with sending objects of various types through to the other side, whatever the other side was.  A pencil, a rag, a small metal block… even a rabbit's foot, showing the apparently safe transmission of organic material.  Carter had been talking about stealing a rat from the zoology lab up on the eighteenth floor, just to see if it could go through alive.

Mel chuckled softly.  "I guess 'wow' sums it up."  Shaking his head slowly, he moved over to sit behind his desk.  "And I'm sure you see why the last people we'd want to start playing around with this would be West and his team.  Or, God forbid, Makepeace."

Carter winced, still staring at the frame.  Idly, she began playing with the control device, changing the image visible in the frame.  "I have to tell you, I'm pretty conflicted about this.   My 'duty' says that something this important really needs to be reported.  But my common sense, not to mention my scientific curiosity, is screaming at me that it needs to stay nice and secret, right here in this room."

Claire laughed softly.  "Oh, yes.  And you haven't seen the firebreather yet."

The younger woman swiveled to look at her, silky hair again performing that impossibly smooth little sway.  "Firebreather?"

"Indeed.  He appeared in the image at one of the 'stations' of the control device."  Claire gestured toward the scorched wall behind her.  "He left this little present."

Carter set the remote on the desk and moved closer to the marred surface.  "Just what kind of firebreather are we talking about, here?"

"Looked pretty much like a man in strange armor, carrying a very nasty staff or spear of some kind."  Claire grabbed a tablet of paper from the jumbled worktable, and dropped to sit on the floor, using her raised knee to support the pad as she sketched.  "Rather like this."

Carter leaned over her shoulder, examining the image of a tall man covered in metal and chain, with an improbably beast-like helmet covering his head.

"He pointed the fat end of the stick at us…" Claire gestured toward the appropriate part of her drawing. "It glowed, then whoosh!  A bolt of fire shot out the end and… right out of the frame."

The physicist's mouth was again hanging open.  "Holy Hannah!"  She slid down to sit next to Claire on the floor, reaching out to take the pad into her hands.

Claire cast a ruefully triumphant little smile toward Mel.  Somehow she didn't think Doctor Carter was going to be running to the General any time soon.

Carter slowly rose to her feet, dusting off her rear end.

"So… I think maybe you should let me take over testing this thing, Doctor Jackson.  I'd say we're definitely looking at something more in my world than yours, if you'll pardon the expression."

Mel regarded her somberly for a few moments before replying.  "Do you think that's a good idea?  Frankly, your lab is under much closer scrutiny than mine."

Her mouth twisted ruefully.  "You're right.  Well… maybe I can work with it here.  It'll be a bit awkward, and…"

The eruption of the claxons and flashing lights overwhelmed the rest of her words.

"Damn!" Mel shook his head in irritation.  "I really hate those alarms."

Claire's eardrums noted the familiar low rumble as the floor beneath her quaked slightly.  Sighing, she leaned back against the wall to wait out the racket.

Abruptly, the too-familiar noise of the sirens was augmented by a raucously amplified voice.  "Unauthorized personnel on base!  All guards to the Doorway room.  Repeat… All guards to the Doorway Room!  Unauthorized Doorway access!  All SF personnel to the Doorway room!"

Doorway room? Claire shared a startled look with Mel, then accepted his hand pulling her to her feet.  Carter had dropped the pad of paper and was already out in the hallway.  Mel and Claire followed, only to be firmly stopped by the armed guard who normally yawned his way through each day posted at the far end of the hall. 

"Sorry, Doctors!  Stay in your rooms, please."

"But, Sergeant, I need to go to the…" 

The man shook his head at Doctor Carter.  "Wait in the lab, Doctor Carter.  I'm sure this is nothing.  You'll be told when all's clear."

"But… "

The soldier gently but firmly pushed the three scientists back into the lab, ignoring Carter's increasingly strident objections.  As the door clicked shut, the physicist's fist pounded once against the innocent panel.

She spun from the door, blue eyes flashing in annoyance, and began pacing furiously back and forth, hands clenched fiercely.

"Where the hell do they find these idiots?  If there's a problem with the Doorway, I need to be there!  Damn, damn, damn!"

Mel and Claire exchanged quizzical glances.  Doorway?

"Doctor Carter…"

She ignored him, still striding back and forth in frustration.

"Doctor Carter!"  Mel stepped out into her path, arms extended.  She twisted away from him, angrily pushing his hands out of her way. 

"I know that Doorway better than anyone else involved in this project!" 

As she stomped over her new pathway, Carter's foot landed on the discarded pad of paper, and slid.  Her body lurched, and Claire reached out automatically to catch her.  The impact of Claire's weight altered the trajectory of Carter's fall, driving both of them against Mel, who also toppled.  Like clumsy, oversized dominoes, all three of them hit the floor and skidded across the slick linoleum tile.  As they jerked to a stop, there was a little flash of light and a frizzy, tingly feeling.

Slowly, they sorted each other out, apologizing and cataloguing bruises.

"Holy Hannah!"

Their heads swiveled toward the source of the soft exclamation.  Claire felt the shock shiver through Doctor Carter's body.  She barely caught the other woman's whisper.

"H…holy Hannah."