“Red, white, whatever … guys are all the same!” - Liz Sherman (Hellboy)

By Wolfen Moondaughter

Okay, I have to say, while it was a fairly watchable ep, not without it’s charm, it wasn’t one of writer Carl Binder’s best. There’s a sizable amount of fuzzy logic (of the non-mathematical variety) involved, and the science is a little hinkier than usual. There are some nice character moments, at any rate, and some interesting questions raised (well, reiterated) on the nature of souls and Ascension (although I don’t much care for the insinuations this time out), the dialogue was decent for the most part; and the acting was well-nigh perfect. It was also nice to see FRAn — er, Michelle Morgan — again; she did an excellent job getting the spirit of Weir across. (Too bad I like FRAn better than Weir.) But the unfolding of the plot continuously frustrated me, some of the philosophies evinced disappointed me, and the end left me feeling rather disturbed.

5.5: “Ghost in the Machine”

Our team is in a ‘jumper in space, over a world that looks like Earth but seems to have rings similar to those of Saturn or Neptune around it. (Interesting — and dangerous!) They’re discussing their latest exploratory mission to a world with “flying monkeys”, with Rodney showing John a fuzzy picture of them, one that’s not unlike Bigfoot photos, in an attempt to prove that they had beaks. (It’s a very cute, very amusing exchange — my fave moment in the ep. Too bad it’s at the very beginning .…) Despite the wildlife, though, John suggests, and Teyla concurs, that it could make a viable alpha site.

Suddenly, as they approach a space ‘Gate, their systems malfunction inexplicably; steering is gone, and John can’t retract the drive pods! (You can tell he’s more than a little afraid of a repeat of the events in the early first season ep, “38 Minutes”.) There’s some sparking in the back, and the light’s go out, prompting Rodney to think that the power is gone. (Apparently not to the artificial gravity, though.) John tells them to hold on as he grips the controls: they hit the bottom of the “Gate rather than going through it. (Did steering came back online, or was it that far off-course before they lost power?) The ‘Gate and the ‘jumper go spinning through space, the ‘jumper hurtling onwards.

Rodney determines that the power is there, “it’s just not reaching the primary systems.” He doesn’t know why, though — he’s just relieved that he inertial dampeners haven’t been affected. (Or the anti-gravity or life support!) Some electricity momentarily arcs in front of them; Rodney warns that it’s “displacement current”. (In one respect, this nicely establishes a recurring plot point, but on the other hand, according to my electronics-loving dad who once rigged his doorknob to give people electric shocks, “displacement current” was a phrase created by Maxwell to improperly describe properties of Faraday’s capacitors. Dad explains that it’s just electricity that breaks through a capacitor when there’s an overload. To call it “displaced” would be like calling water that escapes from a dam “displaced water”, like it was some special term. Looking online, it seems Maxwell’s theories were inaccurate, that the term implies a condition that does not actually exist — and that it isn’t actually used to describe the condition for which Rodney is applying it here, either. The theory, if I’m reading stuff this right, is that, when there is a vacuum, the energy that would have been there is stored in “stretched atoms”, and is not evident in a physical manifestation like lightening. What Rodney is referring to, though, is a backlog of energy bursting free when it can no longer go where it was being directed. So the writers gave the situation an inaccurate name in order to more easily make reference to it later, I guess, when just saying “overloaded capacitors” would have worked just as well and not led to them being called on it by science geeks. Although, technically, from a language standpoint, I would say the current could be considered “displaced’ in the sense that it’s not where Rodney intended it to be — inside the machinery. *Snicker* But my dad seems very put off by that usage — I wonder if a lot of other science geeks are too .…)

Rodney explains that the current is high-voltage, telling them to not let it hit them. “Oh, you think??” John snarks. (*Snicker* So it’s Rodney’s turn to play Captain Obvious. Fine by me; it’s within character here, and it livens up exposition.) Teyla suggests they picked up something from the planet; Rodney, agitated but managing to keep his derision in check, explains that there was no tech on the planet for them to have caught something, and insists that the problem must have originated in the ‘jumper. (Nice lantern — especially since it turns out he’s wrong! But from his perspective, he has every reason to think he’s right, which makes it all the more interesting ….)

Rodney discovers that hitting the ‘Gate has put them in a decaying orbit — th3y’re going to burn up in the planet’s atmosphere! John, alarmed but keeping a level head, tells Rodney to concentrate on the DHD, so they “can dial the ‘Gate and radio for help.” (I wonder about this for a moment, since it was already active when they hit it, but them I remember that the ‘Gate disengages after a certain amount of time if nothing is going through it. Rodney says he’ll try (good boy!), but points out unhappily that communications are down too. They hear one of the drive pods power up; Rodney’s befuddled, as he had nothing to do with it. John takes advantage and takes them back to the ‘Gate.

A short while later, Rodney announces that there’s good news and bad news. He says the DHD is pretty much unfixable, requiring some major rerouting of power. (Since when can he not do that?) John cuts off his explanation, asking what the good news is. “That is the good news,” Rodney tells him. (The line is funny because of the delivery, but doesn’t really make any sense. I mean, in what universe would not being able to fix the DHD be good news?) Rodney meekly (and adorably) informs them that life support is gone. “So no air?” an irritated Ronon asks. “Right, that-that’s … why it’s bad,” Rodney says, still meek. (Aww, I want to hug him! At least he’s not being hysterical now. Instead, he’s like a whipped puppy ….) John announces that they’re within range of the gate, telling Rodney to keep trying with the DHD, as this may be their last shot. (Um, John, shouldn’t you just park the jumper in front of the ‘Gate and give him as much time as possible to work? You can just radio for help like you planned, you don’t need to go through the ‘Gate. You should have enough air in the cabin to last a little while, and I imagine there are oxygen tanks aboard. Maybe they should start carrying flight suits for this sort of eventuality ….)

There’s more sparks in back, and suddenly everything is operational. John radios ahead, warning Atlantis of their problem as they approach the ‘gate, telling them to send a ‘jumper after then if they aren’t back in about 10 seconds, then tells his crew to brace themselves.

They make it back.

Walking with Woolsey, John reveals that Rodney and Radek believe it’s just the one jumper affected, but recommends that they ground the ‘jumpers anyway. Woolsey asks if the planet they’d gone to would make a good alpha site. (Um, wouldn’t that be a beta, gamma, delta, epsilon, etc, site? Or did you lose the previous alpha site somehow?) John thinks so, but warns about the flying monkeys, saying McKay has photos he can show the man. (The look on Woolsey’s face is priceless; I guess he still isn’t used to the idea dealing with alien life-forms ….)

John checks on Rodney and Radek, who inform him that the ‘jumper is perfectly fine; they couldn’t even recreate the problems. Radek insinuates that Rodney was mistaken or even imagined what happened, even after Rodney points out that John and the others witnessed it too, suggesting that Rodney did something unwittingly. (Poor Rodney! It’s interesting how Radek’s questioning Rodney’s ability as a whole, hinting that the man is losing it, has become a recurring happenstance since mid-last season — I wonder if this is just an expression of their rivalry or if it’s foreshadowing for next week’s ep? I can’t wait to find out!)

Woolsey takes a transporter and ends up on a balcony — clearly not where he intended to go. (Love how is eyes are on his work, so he doesn’t even notice until he walks into a railing! I would have been very dizzy and disoriented at that point!) The doors have closed; he tries to open them, but they don’t work. He tries to radio the control room regarding his situation, but gets no reply. (Yeah that makes a lot of sense — the Ancient architects constructed a place that’s exposed to the elements where the only way on or off is via transporter?? Funny, yes, but does humour need to keep coming at the expense of logic? … On the upside, I note that my dislike of Woolsey has pretty much evaporated by now — not because of this scene, I just mean over the admittedly short course of the season thus far. I didn’t believe it would happen, but I’m very glad it did. *Smile* I’m surprised that they rid themselves of the opportunity for stories involving a problematic leader so quickly — it would have been a change of pace — but since I wasn’t personally interested in such a story anyway, I don’t mind.)

Walking down a hall, John notes the lights flickering and radios Rodney, asking if it’s him. It isn’t, and Rodney is getting reports of such happenings from all over, not to mention it’s apparently happening in his lab as well. A big bolt of displacement current arcs in front of John, who crankily calls Rodney’s name as he resumes forward motion. Radek enters the lab, and they have one of those fun conversations where Rodney seems to be a mind-reader. (I love bits like this!) Some stuff we already know from the conversation with John is reiterated: Rodney knows there is a problem, but doesn’t know what the problem is, other than that it involves power disruptions, and that it’s city-wide. We learn that the ZPM is “still online, plenty of power,” but the power is “unstable”. Radek remarks that this seems similar to what Rodney claimed happened in the ‘jumper, which Rodney confirms. Radek suggests the anomaly, whatever it is, spread to the city from the ‘jumper; Rodney insists that it couldn’t have, as he disabled the network between the ‘jumper and the city before they’d even gone through the ‘gate. (And from his standpoint, he has every reason to think it an impossibility — it’d be like getting a phone call through a dead phone — or from a ghost. *Grin*) The computers suddenly blank out. “So. Coincidence, then?” Radek asks. (Yeah, well, you didn’t believe the anomaly existed in the first place, boyo. Of course, from Radek’s standpoint at the time, he had every scientific reason to believe what happened in the ‘jumper had to have been human error. Hell, I suppose he has every reason to believe that’s what it is now, as well!)

John finds them a bit later, in the control room, having been trying to contact McKay. Rodney says communications are down. “Yeah, obviously!” John says. (Heh, Captain Obvious strikes again, making exposition everywhere safe from boredom!) He then tells them about encountering “lightning” in the hall, “Displacement current?” Rodney asks with a note of I want to disbelieve but I fear it’s all too true, his eyes wide. “Yeah, just like in the ‘jumper,” John confirms. “So. Not a coincidence,” Radek says. (Wouldn’t displacement current be a possibility any time there’s a power fluctuation that results in power bring built up in one spot? Is it really so unusual a happenstance that it means these events are very likely related? I would think the fact that the power outage seems to have no explanation would be the clincher, with the current being a symptom that could mean anything, the way sneezing can be the result of a cold or an allergy …) There’s a beep, and Chuck announces that they just lost power to the ‘Gate. (If they are losing power everywhere, why would this be note-worthy? Even if it were working, I wouldn’t trust it or anything else to stay working.) John suggests maybe they’ve uploaded a virus. Rodney insist that one couldn’t have gone from the ‘jumper into the city’s systems. (Well, while John did say it was like the situation in the ‘jumper, he didn’t say the virus came from the jumper; were I Rodney, I would then have assumed a virus came from Earth and that the ‘jumper got infected by Atlantis, but that it took longer to manifest in the city because it’s so much bigger. Of course, I would have been wrong, but I don’t see making the conversational leap from “maybe it’s a virus” to “the ‘jumper couldn’t have infected the city” without a middle step there stating that the virus was probably on the jumper first ….) A bolt of lighting destroys a monitor. John tells Rodney, “You’d better figure it out, because whatever was in that ‘jumper is in the city!” (That line doesn’t quite work for me in the flow of the conversation — it’s like he didn’t hear what Rodney just said, as he doesn’t directly counter it. Maybe something more like “I’d say whatever was affecting the ‘jumper — and now the city — disagrees with you ….”)

Later that night, Woolsey ambles in to the control room; John asks (conversationally) what happened to him. Woolsey explains that, due to a transporter malfunction of the east pier, he had to walk all the way back. (I assume either there was another, regular door that we couldn’t see, even when we panned out to see the whole balcony, or else the power came back up long enough for him to transport to another wrong location. Unless he decided to play Batman, like Sheppard did in “Quarantine”? *Snicker*) Rodney tells Woosley (who has commandeered Chuck’s seat and is massaging his poor, tired dogs) that there are fluctuations all over and almost all systems are affected, and John adds that they think the ‘jumper problem infected Atlantis. Rodney insists that this is just one possibility of several they’re looking at and they don’t know what the problem is yet. Woolsey tells him that he was nearly hit by lightning; “Yeah, join the club,” Sheppard tells him. Rodney explains how energy builds up and is released in a displacement current, adding that it’s very erratic and very lethal (regardless of what you call it *snicker*). Woolsey says he tried to radio them; Radek tells him communications are down, with John adding that the ‘Gate is, too. (I realise that Woolsey needs to be told these things, but for the audience, there’s an awful lot of redundancy going on here.) Rodney is talking about running diagnostics, when the power goes out.

They start to discuss sending out teams to calm the populace, when a laptop boots up, catching Rodney’s attention. John suggests it’s just the battery back-up (good lantern), but Rodney insists it’s getting its power from the system. “So everything’s out except your computer?” Woolsey asks skeptically. (What, does he think Rodney’s orchestrating a coup or something?) Not amused, Rodney tells him that he’s just as confused as Woolsey. (The moment, with McKay’s expression and tone, is a nice example of how Hewlett described Rodney and Woolsey’s relationship in a Gateworld interview, “We haven’t actually clashed a lot. But anything I say to him I say with utter disrespect.”) Some gibberish appears on the screen, the letters scrambling around, until finally a recognisable word appears: “help”. Rodney types, “Who are you?” The letters, after a few tries, form “Elizabeth Weir”. (This is one of those rare instances where I wish I hadn’t been spoiled — how mind-blowing would that have been, you know?)

“Elizabeth Weir? But she’s dead!” Woolsey protests. “So we’ve been told,” John points out. (And really, I never understood why they were so ready to just assume that intel was correct, particularly since the RepliWeir didn’t come by this info first-hand.) Woolsey prompts Rodney to reply, Rodney asks where she is; she replies “computer”. This puzzles them; she elaborates “difficult”, then “current condition”. Rodney’s “What happened to you?” receives a “subspace”, “difficult control”, and “:trying to”. The lights come on. Rodney asks her if she did that, but her answer is garbled. He asks if she’s still there, and she manages, after some effort, “Help me.” (There’s a really nice bit of music here — it makes the moment even more poignant, and gives me the shivers — the good kind.)

Later, we see Radek messing with something, then radioing McKay, saying that Rodney can go ahead with what he’s about to do. Woolsey, John, Telya, Ronon are with McKay in his lab when he gets the message. As he works, he explains to the others that the “Weir” entity is broken up like fragmented programmes all over the city, which is why they’ve been having problems; he’s managed to merge the pieces into one big programme, stabilising the systems and allowing them to “better communicate with whoever — or whatever — it is that’s claiming to be Dr Weir.” Woolsey asks if merging the programs isn’t dangerous. (Lantern!) Rodney says of course it is, but no more so than letting it stay in the systems. “Or getting zapped by bolts of lightning,” Sheppard adds helpfully. (*Snicker*) Rodney fixes it so that, hopefully, they can hear the entity speak, and it can hear them. (I could see the computer being able to parse spoken words into bytes that a programme could translate, a la a programme like Naturally Speaking Dragon, and even distinguish the signature of different voices via voice-recognition, but how in the world could she actually perceive the information in such a way that would allow her to recognise voices she once knew as if she were hearing it with her formerly human ears? Do they have that Earth-born equipment hooked up to a Replicator-style ear and informational processing system? Hmm, for that matter, why not fix it so that Atlantis responds to verbal commands, a la the Enterprise?) When Weir addresses Rodney verbally for the first time, her vice is too deep; Rodney adjusts it so that it’s more feminine. (But of course still doesn’t really sound like her — this was a good way around the fact that Torri Higginson didn’t come back. And I understand, from a directorial standpoint, the desire to shift to speaking aloud so they don’t have to do all the communicating via the screen, especially since there might be audience members who can’t read — although, at the same time, that could have been rectified by having the camera on Rodney instead of the screen and have him read the lines around for everyone in the room.)

Weir asks after John, who offers a hesitant hello. After Weir says how happy she is to hear his voice, he awkwardly tells her that they thought she was dead. (I’m sure the Weir/Sheppard shippers are both happy and sad about this moment.) Remarking that she supposes she is dead, physically, but explaining that she still has a consciousness, Weir asks if he remembers the day she ordered them to leave her behind. Exchanging a morose glance with Rodney, he says he does. (The look on his face and Rodney’s breaks my heart!) Weir launches her story.

After she had been captured by the Replicators, they had adjusted her nanites so that they were able to replicate again; we see them leave her body, apparently taking her consciousness with them. (Which begs an interesting question, then: is this only a facsimile of Weir? Is her consciousness the same as her soul, or did her soul go elsewhere when they killed her body after releasing the nanites? Being a consciousness in a machine, could she be reprogrammed? If yes, how much? Could she choose to stay the same to fight programming? Sadly, while other episodes have left these questions more open-ended, even leaning towards the notion of the Replicators just being another form of life, this episode seems to lean towards machines not having souls and not being capable of compassion, no matter how hard they might try. Which may be at the root of why I don’t care so much for this ep.) Weir says that she was allowed to roam in her new body, but that, though she tried to hide it, some of the Replicators sensed that she was not truly one of them, that she remained herself. Those Replicators were members of Liam’s group, the ones who wished to ascend and who had made the RepliTeam. “Oh, you knew about that,” John remarks in suspicious tones; she assures him that she only learned of them after they were dead, explaining that her double was told that she was dead for security reasons. (I’m disappointed that Rodney and McKay don’t bat an eyelash at the news of the Replicators deaths — did they know already? Aren’t they the least bit sorry about it, especially Rodney, who got along so well with his double? Also, I’m a bit bummed — I held on to a small hope that they had survived, and were only injured ….)

Woolsey basically tells her to cut to the chase, wanting to know how she got disembodied. She recognises his voice, the fact unsettling him. After learning Woolsey was her replacement (her “I see,” sounds a little sad and wistful), after John’s prompting, she resumes her story. Her band of rebels were on the run from Oberoth’s group, who were determined to kill them, when the Replicator homeworld was destroyed, allowing Weir’s band to resume their attempt to ascend (the work the RepliWeir was cryptically speaking of in “Be All My Sins Remembered”). She tried to teach them to meditate, to release their burden, but it was difficult. (Why would it be hard for a machine to release its burden? Shouldn’t it be far easier for it to control its emotions? Couldn’t it just program itself to not worry or feel guilt? One could argue that it has to be a true effort rather than such a convenient one, but we already know, thanks to Adria and Anubis, that that you don’t have to be good to Ascend — you can take shortcuts. Heck, even some of the Ancients seem to have ascended artificially, through that machine Rodney encountered — he almost did!) “Let me guess: you ran into the small hiccup over the fact that you’re all machines?” Rodney asks. His derision trails off awkwardly as he says that they saw that coming. (At first this sentiment doesn’t make much sense to me — like RepliKeller pointed out, humans are arguably biochemical machines. But then I remember how every human we’ve seen ascend had had a body that transformed — suggesting that it’s not moving on soul-wise, but body-wise. Still, I get the impression Rodney is saying this in a context where machines don’t have souls; given how this episode turns out, it seems RepliKeller’s argument from “This Mortal Coil”, about human bodies just being biochemical machines, and therefore Replicators are just a different sort of life-form, has been dumped. This makes me unhappy, especially how Rodney seemed to be coming around on the matter with FRAn ….)

Weir explains that one of her band, Koracen, moved to find a technologically-based means of Ascension. The others were reluctant, but eventually acquiesced. It even seemed to work at first, allowing them to separate their consciousnesses from their nanite cells without needing to transfer it to another body; McKay marvels at the notion of Machine Ascension, but John looks disturbed. Weir goes on to say that it didn’t work, though; they didn’t find any other plane of existence that they could move on to, and just floated around subspace. (So why did they think that simply removing the need for the hardware would work anyway? Especially since, as I said, Ascended beings retain their bodies! They aren’t souls moving on to heaven, they’re living beings that have evolved to a point where they can manipulate the physical world with the power of their minds! Hell, in a way, with their nanite bodies shape-changing at will, the Replicators were like Ascended beings already, in some respects. So abandoning the bodies doesn’t really fit with the concept of Ascension — when humans do that, they’re dead. It seems Koracen took the concept of releasing their burdens a little too literally ….) Teyla asks what it’s like; Weir replies that it’s “constant motion and deafening noise,” and “like the worst migraine you could possibly imagine.” (Why, I wonder? Particularly when they lack pain receptors or other sensors. This conversation is just getting weirder and weirder. I’m not sure what part of me is more uncomfortable with this story, the mild science geek or the part interested in metaphysics ….) McKay muses that he’s had some pretty bad migraines before. (Oooh, I’d like to see that on the show! A nice bit of McSheppy hurt/comfort …. *Cough* Right, sorry, got distracted ….) Sheppard gives him a disapproving glare as Weir speaks on. (I love how Rodney and John keep looking at each other throughout this conversation, as if they were the only two people in the room — they hardly look at Woolsey, even, despite his being in charge, and seem to look at each other as much as — if not more than — they look towards the speakers or the screen …)

Weir tells them that they searched for a way to return to their physical forms, and stumbled across other advanced societies, ones hidden from the Wraith. Rodney perks up at this (as do I!). Weir’s group occupied various computers — even some Wraith tech, which was very unpleasant — but couldn’t find anything that even remotely approached their former existence. (So no robots. Darn.) McKay realises that’s why she came to Atlantis — to find a system big enough to house her whole consciousness. (I’d say that’s more like complicated enough. Replicator bodies aren’t all that huge, after all.) She explains that the others became bitter in their search, so she broke of to look for Atlantis on her own and finally ran across Sheppard’s team’s ‘jumper. Unamused, Ronon dryly points out that she nearly killed them; she apologises, explaining that her condition is “volatile” and it’s very difficult to control things when she first integrates into new tech. (Which of course suggests she’s not the real Weir, as Weir would rather have died than pit the others at risk. Still, the possibility that she’s just a copy rather than the original isn’t a viable explanation for her actions, either, at least not to me. I’ll touch more on my reasons for my displeasure later …) She adds that she didn’t know where to go, saying they are the only friends she has.

They discuss what to do with her on the balcony outside the control room. Ronon, of course, doesn’t trust her. McKay, asking what if it is her, wants to give her a chance, suggesting he can build a body with failsafes and a killswitch, just like FRAn; Woolsey insists that it’s just too dangerous to risk it. (I can see Woolsey’s point for this reason: with access to hands, she might, if she isn’t really Weir — or maybe even if she is — make an actual, fully-functional Replicator body. She doesn’t even necessarily have to do it in Atlantis — all she need do is escape before they have a chance to use the killswitch.) Teyla asks what they should do then; McKay points out that she’s frying the city’s computers, so she can’t stay in them. Sheppard suggests they put her in a VR environment, like they did with Eva; McKay says that would only work if she would go voluntarily. Jon says they should talk to her. (Really, if she is Weir, why wouldn’t she agree, right? She’d get to be with people again, after a fashion, and they’d all be safe. Thing is, if she can’t be spread out amongst the city’s vast network, how can she go into the VR computer without frying it, then?) Radek comes out, flustered, reporting power anomalies where the Replicator-making tech is; Ronon figures out immediately that Weir is making herself a body. (Yay for Smart!Ronon!) McKay realises that she must have found the specs in the database. (Lantern — and I’m not sure it’s necessary. Is it such a leap to think that the Replicators would know how that equipment works, having it recorded in their sort-of racial memory?) As they start to head out to the lad, Woolsey talks to Radek; we learn that they can’t shut the power down, nor reach the techs down there with the radio.

When they arrive at the lab, the lights in the hall are flickering, we can hear electric sounds (making me think of Dr Frankenstein’s lab, which was probably the point), and the door is sealed shut. Rodney tries the panel while John orders a soldier there to get back-up,, heavy arms, and some as C-4 for the door; Rodney confirms that the door panel is fried. The lights suddenly go back to normal; as Woolsey asks if there’s another door, the one before them slides open, revealing a FRAn (Friendly Replicator Android, in case you’ve forgotten and are wondering why I’m capitalising it so oddly).

A little later, they’re all in the lab, Weir trying to assure them that she is who she says she is, since she doesn’t look like Weir. Rodney mentions that FRAn’s design was the last one in the machine, and figures that she didn’t have time to do anything different. (Which is a brilliant way to explain why she looks as she does rather than how she used to look!) Weir insists that she’s not a threat; John points out that her being in a Replicator body is a “pretty big” one, with Teyla insisting that the real Weir would never do that. (She’s remembering, of course, how upset Weir was to learn that her nanites had been reactivated. So does this mean that it really isn’t Weir, or that a brush with death made her have a change of heart, or that being a Replicator has changed her core personality?) Fiddling with the machine a moment, Rodney announces that he’s deactivated it and pulled the control crystal. Weir insists that Rodney programming has eliminated the danger, fixing it so that she can’t replicate, adding that her consciousness controls the body. Woolsey points out that he’s not yet sold on the idea that it’s really her; Ronon wholeheartedly agrees. (I remember at this moment how he sat at her bedside when she was dying, and feel very sad for them both.) She wishes she could prove who she is; Woolsey points out that anything she might say could have been plucked from the head of the real Weir. (Good lantern!) She agrees, then offers to give them intel as a start to building trust, saying that she’s already downloaded the info on the Wraith and other tech. Radek’s brows raise in interest, while Rodney tries to feign nonchalance. In return, all Weir wants is a chance to earn their trust; she promises them she means no harm.

In Woolsey’s office, Rodney informs Woolsey and Sheppard that the city’s systems are all back to normal. Sheppard asks if Rodney is sure she can’t replicate; Rodney assures him that she used every safeguard, and starts to talk about moving her to a secure location. Woolsey interrupts, not at all pleased at the notion of keeping here there. (Dude, what do you expect to do with her? Set her loose so that she can have the freedom to find a way too build other Replicators if she’s actually evil?) Rodney protests that, if they keep her under close guard, she’d be safe enough to study. (I’m thrown by that a moment, but I decide he means study so that they can determine is she really is Weir and trustworthy, not study like a new species.) Woolsey argues that her being a Replicator makes her too dangerous, even under guard. Rodney protests that he made FRAn, and everyone doubted her, but he’d been right. (Just like he was right about Weir’s nanites, as he’d programmed them, being safe!) Woolsey points out that Rodney didn’t make Weir’s body or consciousness, and that, for all they know, she might really be Oberoth. (Ooh, he has a point there. And I applaud him for pointing out that the danger lies in the fact that Rodney didn’t make Weir, not in some blind notion of Replicator=bad even in circumstances where it would be impossible for them to be a problem, unlike John’s knee-jerk anti-nanite attitude in “Adrift”.)

Rodney asks, “What if it is Weir?” He makes a heartfelt plea, saying that it’s his fault she’s in this mess, having reactivated her nanites, even if he was trying to save her, and it’s up to him to fix it — he owes her that. (Poor Rodney! I love how he says that past to John, not Woolsey. I really feel for him here, carrying all that guilt — a very touching scene and good, serious moment for the character. Still, I’m also annoyed at his logic. For one, if he hadn’t saved her, she’d be dead; if she wanted to be dead, she could have ended things herself long ago. Instead, she’s fighting to survive. Secondly, the nanites, as he programmed them, did not cause her problems; her being caught by the Replicators did. No one forced her to go to the Replicator homeworld, and really, any of them could have potentially ended up in the same fix if captured. Thirdly, if he hadn’t saved her, they’d all be dead, seeing as she made their mission a success; then Michael might well have taken over the galaxy, seeing as Teyla’s probably not the only Athosian woman with the Wraith-sensing ability that could have been used in his experiments. And really, he can’t have felt all that bad over what he supposedly did to her, considering that he was about to build her another nanite body ….) Woolsey feels for Rodney but won’t bend, saying that they’re going to stick with putting her in the virtual environment. Dejected, Rodney leaves, wordlessy, John looking sad for him. (Awww! … I don’t see why this is a problem for Rodney, though — why would having her in a virtual environment be a lesser solution for him? Well, aside from the fact that, given how she’s affected the city and how she said they have entered and left other tech, it seems to me that she could extricate herself from the VR. Hell, if they can posses computers, and the human brain is a biological computer, and she used to dwell in a human mind, she could, theoretically, take over a human host if she chose, and isn’t that unsettling? …)

In one of the isolation rooms, Teyla talks uneasily with Weir, who is delighted to learn Teyla has a son. Despite how insightful Weir is being, even going as far as to guess that Kanaan is the father (after an amusing moment of suspecting John), Teyla seems reluctant to answer questions as they talk, eventually lying about Torren and Kanaan’s location. (She does it with surprising ease, really. How sad for Teyla now, after she and Elizabeth had gotten to be such good friends!) John comes in, and Teyla takes that as an excuse to leave. He apologises to Weir for the guarded room, but she understands. She comments on Teyla’s happy news; John doesn’t seem to happy. (Is it that he’s jealous of Kanaan or that he’s unsettled that Weir knows about the baby?) he says they want to believe she is who she says she is, but …. She understands, saying he just has to give her time. She stops in mid-sentence, with an unhappy, faraway look on her face; she senses the approach of the other Replicators!

Woolsey hurries into the control room, where Rodney and John await him; Rodney reveals that eight Replicators are coming, muttering about how much damage just the one had done. Woolsey asks if they should pull the ZPM; Rodney says that that’s a last resort, and he’ll put up whatever countermeasures he can in the meantime. The Replicators are just minute away. Woolsey suggests a firewall, but Rodney explains that that won’t work seeing as they can pop into being anyway, thanks to travelling in subspace. (John has the funniest grimace on his face while Rodney speaks! *Snicker*) Still, it gives McKay an idea for a sot of anti-virus software that quarantines anomalies — unfortunately, that will take time to make; Woolsey tells him to do it. Then, walking off with Sheppard, he tells the Colonel that they’ll wait with putting Weir in the VR, in case she might be able to help them.

John storms in to the isolation room, accusing Weir of having set them up; she insists that she honestly thought she had evaded them. (Looking back on this scene now, knowing the end, it’s depressing how easily she can lie to him.) he tells her to tell them to stay away from Atlantis; she says she’ll try, pointing out that this will be easier to do the closer they get and adding that she doesn’t believe they mean any harm. (Yeah, well, considering what harm she’s caused, even if she were truthful it wouldn’t matter — they would harm with or without intent …) He insists she tell them to stay away, but he’s interrupted by flickering lights. McKay radios him, but the transmission is choppy. The Replicators are already there, overloading the grid. Woolsey arrives, and Rodney admits that he didn’t finish the antivirus program in time, but says it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. (I suppose he could just be saying that so that it makes the fact that he failed seem inconsequential, but I think he’s being truthful there. Also, I actually like when they have Rodney not succeed now and then; it alleviates the risk of people calling him a Mary Sue, as I have seen anti-Carter people refer to her ….) Rodney them radios Radek, telling him to pull the ZPM and the generators, but the comm is down again.

Radek, meanwhile, is trying to radio Rodney, telling him that he’s been trying to divert power, but it’s getting too unstable; he asks if he should pull the ZPM. (You know, if Rodney had just let them do that to begin with, they’d probably have been better off — you don’t touch a plug when the power is overloaded, it’s too dangerous. I don’t see any reason for them not to have, given that the Replicators were due to arrive any minute ….) After a lightning bolt hits a wall, Zelenka gives the order to pull the ZPM and shut down power to all but the tower. Lightning kills the tech assigned to the task.

Sheppard and Ronon escort Weir to the control room, where Woolsey informs them that they’ve established contact with Koracen, who says he speaks for the others. There’s some back and forth with him; he and his companions will leave if they are given bodies like Elizabeth, saying that they don’t wish to bring harm. Woolsey refuses, saying that they don’t even intend to let Weir keep hers, while Sheppard says they’ve already killed someone, so he’s not buying the “we come in peace” bit. Weir pleads with Koracen to step back and let her negotiate, but he demands they replace the crystal in the Ancient Replicator-making device. Rodney announces that they’re losing control of the city, the gate being down and the jumper bay doors having been sealed. Sheppard realises that they’re being kept from being able to leave. Rodney says he’s locked out of the system. Then he notes the power levels rising, and announces that the Replicators are sinking the city! (Without shields, of course. Yeah, like that kind of behavior is going to help Koracen and co reach their goal. While Adria and Anubis were able to Ascend despite being evil, Anubis had help and Adria was already an evolved being. I’m guessing that, when you don’t have a leg up, it’s easier to Ascend if you are a compassionate being, dude! I guess they didn’t pay much attention to Weir’s lessons ….)

We see soldiers trying to escape flooding tunnels. Woolsey tells Weir he has a message for Koracen. (What, Koracen’s cut off communication? Why would he do that when he’s waiting for a reply from them?) She says she’s already tried to tell them to stop, but they won’t listen. Woolsey says that’s not the message he wants to send. He tells them to go ahead and sink the city — pointing out that, if the city is sunk, Koracen won’t get what he wants, and will stay trapped in limbo forever. She is quiet a moment, relaying the message, and announces that they won’t stop. “Fine. Then we die together,” Woolsey tells her firmly, turning away, his bravado faltering a little as his face was no longer in her view. (I get the impression that Woolsey was talking to Weir throughout this scene more than the unseen Koracen — hence his keeping his back to her as he waits for the Replicators to back down. Maybe he sensed she was really the one pulling the strings. At any rate, I really have to applaud him here. He’s not even really bluffing exactly — if the plan fails, he can’t let Atlantis fall into Replicator hands — but it’s nice to see his human reaction to his own decision as he turns away. Definitely a fave moment in this ep, and a big part of why I walked away with a whole lot more respect for the man.) After a long, tense, moment, we hear a beeping, and Rodney announces that the ZPM has been powered down, the city stabilising. (I assume that means it’s rising, too, or those corridors would still be flooding.) For a moment, Woolsey looks a little green around the gills from their near-miss. Then he squares his shoulders and turns back to Weir, almost cheerfully announcing that they can now negotiate.

In Woolsey’s office, Weir puts forth a proposal that she says the others have already agreed to: they want human bodies, nanite-manufactured ones like those of the RepliTeam. (Never mind that those human bodies had nanites too? Well, I guess if the Replicators were able to remove the ones from Elizabeth’s body, they can do the same here. I wonder why the humans weren’t able t do that for Weir before, or for Jeannie after hers were disabled ….) Rodney points out, a little embarrassed, that they don’t have that kind of tech in Atlantis. Weir says that they do, suggesting that they be given temporary Replicator bodies so that they might make the human bodies themselves. (Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of this whole exchange?? The point is that Woolsey refused to make Replicator bodied because of the potential risk involved! Wouldn’t it make more sense, from the Atlantians’ standpoint, to have the Replicators give them the specs and keep the Replicators in the VR environment in the meantime??) Then they would transfer their Replicator minds to the human bodies, which would make them every bit as vulnerable as the Atlantians. John asks if Ascension is still on the agenda; she assures him that it is. (Like it matters either way?) Rodney points out how long this will all take — they have to make the machine to make the bodies, make the bodies, and make the machine to transfer the consciousnesses into the bodies. (I have to ask why, on the last one. If they could transfer themselves in and out of computers without aid, why do they still need help getting out of the Replicator body and into a human one? Also, if they were in the VR environment, it wouldn’t matter so much how long it would take. I mean, okay, there’s always a risk they would leave the VR, but they’ve got that risk right now, and if the Replicators want the bodies, why would they?) Weir points out that their Replicator bodies could work very fast and would have no need for rest of any kind. John says it’s worth thinking about. Rodney agrees, as their being in the computers is still putting Atlantis at risk. Woolsey says if they do this, he wants extreme limitations placed on their capabilities; Rodney promises the most basic model, capable of only making minor repairs. (Isn’t even that much, being able to do any repairs at all, a bad idea? Hell, I don’t see how allowing them to use nanites to construct the human bodies is so different from allowing them to be able to replicate within their own bodies — couldn’t they sneakily integrate those nanites into themselves?) Weir adds the suggestion of sealing the lab and having a forcefield around the room, and doing whatever they need to, in order to feel safe, saying that she’s already convinced others that this is their only option and promising that they won’t be any trouble. Woolsey gives them a go.

We see Weir enter the lab; watching through a window, Rodney initialises the forcefield. Woolsey and Sheppard talk as they walk down a hall, John assuring him that he has round-the-clock guards on the room. Sheppard asks what will happen after they become human; Woolsey figures there’s no reason not to let them go then. (You mean aside from the fact that they know the location of Atlantis and could give that intel to the Wraith if captured?) “Or what if … one of them decides to stay?” John asks. (Awww, despite his mistrust, looks like John’s allowing himself to entertain the possibility of having Elizabeth back in his life — maybe especially now that Teyla has found someone?) Woolsey suggests they cross one bridge at a time. They part ways. Woolsey approaches McKay, asking how it’s going; Rodney says they’re finishing the last one. They watch Koracen come to life, Woolsey commenting on how fast the process was; Rodney explains that Replicators are easy, compared to human bodies. (Nice lantern to explain why, for the sake of expediency on the show, the Replicator bodies were so fast to make, but why they couldn’t get human bodies done ASAP. Although, really, considering how quickly nanites are able to repair human bodies, I wouldn’t think making one from scratch would really be all that> much harder. And making the machine to make the bodies should be a snap too, really, since they already have the schematics in their minds.) Woolsey muses that the sinner they get everything done, the better, ordering that the Replicator bodies be destroyed the moment the last transfer is done. With Koracen up and about, the Replicators get to work on the next step straight away; Woolsey comments on their not wasting time. Rodney remarks that they don’t take breaks or chitchat, wistfully calling it the perfect working environment. (Oh, like Rodney doesn’t like to chitchat himself!) Woolsey notes Ronon watching the Replicators like a hawk, telling him that he doesn’t have to do that the whole time. “I’m good,” Ronon replies. “Talk, talk, talk, that’s all he does. You can’t shut him up!” Rodney teases. (*Snicker* Nice call-back to the end of “The Seed”!)

A while later, Rodney is konked out, sleeping at a desk; Ronon still keeps watch. We’re behind him, watching the Replicators in the room on the monitors. (Nice directorial work there!) One gives of them approaches one of the screens and gives it a funny look. Cut to inside the lab, where he turns to look at Ronon through the window; there’s a spark, and the lights go out. Ronon springs into action, waking McKay with a shout and hurrying for the door. Koracen comes out, grabs Ronon, and throws him down the hall, where he hits a wall, hard. Soldiers arrive, and shoot at Koracen; they miss as he goes around a corner. Ronon stirs, moaning in pain on the floor.

Sheppard arrives on the scene, to find the rest of the Replicators surrounded by soldiers. Rodney explains that Koracen “must have written some kind of hidden programme that was timed to kill power as soon as they were downloaded into the Replicator bodies. It disabled the forcefield and they were able to pry open the doors.” (Except that it didn’t actually kill the power until a while later …. Also, why wouldn’t that lab have been cut off from all of the Atlantis systems? Even if he had planted a programme before leaving the Atlantis computers, if the lab was cut off from the system in all respects, including power — they could have been given an naquadah generator — or the Atlantians had redirected a jumper’s shield to surround the lab, there would have been no way for Koracen to effect it. Considering that the Replicators were in the computers, it seems to me that their having slipped Atlantis a Mickey should have always been considered a distinct possibility. For that matter, I wouldn’t have trusted them to not make Replicator bodies with more capabilities — Rodney should have made the bodies himself! This all makes his work seem sloppy and careless — and John’s as well, since security is his bailiwick ….) John notes Weir isn’t there, and is told she went after Koracen. He’s also told that three teams went after them, but there’s no radio contact. Sheppard order some guys to go after them, then tells Rodney to go get the power back up. A soldier asks what to do with the Replicators; John says to shoot them and keep shooting, saying that “they’ll go down eventually.” (What, you don’t have anti-Replicator guns anymore?) He turns to leave, but is stopped by one of the Replicators, one who had questioned Koracen’s suggestion to use artificial means to ascend in the first place. She insists they knew nothing of, and had nothing to do with, Koracen’s plan — if they did, they would have left too — and points out that they’re complying with his wishes. He relents, amending his order to the soldiers to shoot if they move an inch (instead of outright).

John finds Koracen and holds him at gunpoint. Koracen reveals that he has no interest in the weak, frail human bodies; in his Replicator body he can live as long as he needs to find the key to Ascension. (Well, Koracen, while I see your point, at the same time, you know humans have ascended and no machine has — wouldn’t becoming human facilitate your goal? And couldn’t you make more human bodies to host your consciousness if you get ill before you find the key?) Koracen rushes John; the bullets Sheppard fires at him have little effect. He knocks John down and runs off.

Radek finds Woolsey, Rodney, and Chuck in darkened the control room. He’s told that most of the power to critical systems has been shut down, but the ‘Gate and the DHD are still up. At a laptop, Rodney’s managed to gain remote access to the mainframe. (I assume because the laptop has a battery, and because the mainframe has to still be on at least for the ‘Gate to work.) Rodney’s hoping to at least get minimal power back up in the tower from the generators, which in turn will allow them to override Koracen’s programme and get everything else back up. Woolsey tells him to hurry, and leaves; Zelenka asks how he can help. “You can stay out of my way,” Rodney suggests. Radek steps back, apologising. Standing silent for a moment, clearly wondering what to do, he starts to speak. “And be quiet,” Rodney says. (*Snicker*)

John finds Weir, who tells him to let her handle it. “Haven’t you done enough already?” he asks, clearly regretting having let his guard down and trusted her. She insists she’s trying to help, claiming that she didn’t know Koracen would do this. Koracen arrives, laughing, saying of course she did. John brings the rifle to bear on Koracen, drawing his pistol on Weir. Koracen claims it was all Weir’s idea, their coming to Atlantis. (I get a sick feeling in my stomach — I believe him.) Weir concedes that she did bring them, but insists that she didn’t know Koracen would do this. John asks if she thought they would just hand them Replicator bodies and send them on their way; she stresses that she honestly believed that she and her companions would be no threat to the Atlantians. (Well, aside from the whole causing the systems to malfunction bit? Even if she didn’t intend for them to keep their Replicator bodies, and only wanted to save the Replicators from their existence in limbo, even with the best of intentions, Weir has lied to and manipulated her so-called friends with surprising — and to me, sickening — ease. It seems John agrees with me ….) John tells her that she may think she’s Weir, but she’s not. While she’s verbally stricken, the lights come on; Koracen uses John’s distraction to attack him, throwing the Colonel against the wall. Weir attacks Koracen, sticking her hand into his head and destroying his nanite bonds, disintegrating him. (If she doesn’t have shape-shifting ability, how is she able to alter her hand to slip between the nanites in his head? The allowance for repairs shouldn’t extend to that!)

In Woolsey’s office, Woolsey tells Weir that he’s willing to let her people continue their work, McKay adding that they’d still have the forcefield, and John saying they’ll beef up security. Weir says it’s too risky; John looks alarmed. (I guess her having eliminated Koracen proved she is trustworthy, or at least that she would be henceforth.) She says she was wrong about her companions being safe, and “can no longer guarantee there won’t be any more trouble from them” — or even herself. (I don’t like the insinuation that, just because her consciousness became a digital one, she seems to have lost much of her moral fiber. I liked it better when it was suggested that Replicators could be individuals, and could choose to be good, just like any biological sentient species — Liam certainly was before he was brainwashed, and so was RepliKeller! Now it’s like they’re saying that Replicators are inherently evil and can’t ever fully break that pattern, no matter how hard they try.) John asks, awkwardly, what she wants to do now. She reminds Rodney of how, when he’s first saved her with the nanites, she’d said it was a bad idea, adding that so much has gone wrong since then. (Come to think of it, she’d been afraid at the time that she would lose her sense of self; I guess she really has. I don’t think it would have been just having active nanites that changed her, though, it was either putting herself in contact with the Replicator programming again, or else her being taken out of her human body, much as I dislike the insinuation with the latter. I just want them to stop acting like Rodney did something wrong — directly wrong — in saving her ….) Now, though, she thinks she knows how to set things right.

We see the Replicator woman, Lia, at Woolsey’s gentle behest, dials the ‘Gate. The Atlantians and Replicators male their way down the stairs to the ‘Gate, John not looking too happy. Rodney tells Weir that if they need anything for their work, to let them know. Woolsey adds that hey must keep their promise to stay put until the human bodies are complete, and not communicate with anyone outside of Atlantis. (At this point, I’m completely baffled.) She wishes Woolsey luck in his command, complimenting him; touched, he thanks her. (This moment takes on a deeper, even more touching context once we see the end.) She then beckons her comrades to follow, but they hesitate. She assures them it’s okay, and volunteers to go first,. She pauses at the gate, glancing at John with a smile that’s wistful and rueful. He looks ashamed; behind him, Rodney scowls thoughtfully. She goes through the gate. A long moment later, Lia, whose eyes are closed, opens her eyes and announces it’s safe; the Replicators leave through the ‘Gate. On the other side, she looks around, slightly confused; we see Weir floating in darkness before her. Lia twitches (I guess as she starts to freeze), the others floating behind her. Back in Atlantis, Woolsey bows his head, Rodney Teyla and Ronon looking morose as they step up closer to him and John, everyone looking grim. Woolsey asks if Rodney’s sure the DHD reconfiguration worked. Rodney gives a quiet, chocked up affirmative, saying they were sent to a space gate. “I guess that answers the question as to whether it was really Elizabeth?” he adds. No one replies. One by one, they turn away, until only John is left, grieving.) We see a parting shot of Weir, floating, her eyes closing (as she shuts down, I presume).

Since nanites get frozen in space, was the idea was that this was a sort of stasis, or death? And what was the point of that? If you’re going to freeze them indefinitely rather than help them, why not just kill them? Especially since Rodney has warned them before that the Replicators floating is space could be found and defrosted — isn’t it dangerous to leave them like that? I’m deeply sad for our Atlantians, especially John (and Rodney, who no doubt blames himself), but I’m also deeply unsettled by the fact that they all so readily tricked these beings into going to what is essentially an eternal prison (if they retain their consiousness). Especially after the Atlantians had been so willing to help them at first, even after what Koracen did! If they were willing to help them, doesn’t that mean they didn’t think they were evil? Haven’t they just very possibly sent innocent people to a punishment they don’t deserve? (Unless, of course, the rest of the Replicators really had intended to sink the city, and weren’t just bluffing). And it’s unsettling how readily Woolsey lied; I mean, he wasn’t exactly lying before, when Koracen said they would sink Atlantis and Woolsey said go ahead, so while he proved he can put on a brave face, that’s not the same as what he did here. I’m glad they showed his grief after, at least. Rodney had a harder time with the charade, I think, but not by much, alas. It’s hard not to look at the Atlantians without feeling a little revulsion at the moment. What happened to the whole “download their consciousnesses into a virtual reality” plan, anyway? (Well, aside from the fact that I would worry they could leave the program, but they didn’t actually discuss that in the show ….)

At least I’m not really a Weir fan — if I were, I’d probably be wishing that her story had been left alone now, rather than her having turned out to have become so conniving. She not only betrayed her human friends, has now betrayed her Replicator ones as well! Also, I’d rather think she was still going about her merry way than know she’s floating in limbo indefinitely. (Although, frankly, as I mentioned before, if they could hop from machine to machine, why couldn’t they dislodge themselves from these bodies and explore the galaxy at least?)

I do have to wonder how differently it would have all turned out if Torri Higginson had returned — would Weir have suffered the same fate? Or would she have gotten a happier ending, with the expectation that she might come back? Well, I guess the way it is, the character still could come back, if they choose — but I’m doubting they will.

This has now become my least-fave ep of the season (not the series, it’s still a semi-decent ep) — and I hope it stays that way, ’cause then it would mean it’s only uphill from here, ‘ey? Well, for me, anyway, as, looking online, I seem to be in the minority in my opinion of this one.

See you next week, for “The Shrine”, the episode I have eagerly been awaiting all summer, and what I’m sure will be at least on par with, if not supersede, my fave ep to date (and the one that made me an Atlantis fan), “Tao of Rodney”. If fact, “The Shrine” airs the day after my birthday — Happy Birthday to me!! A Rodney-centric, hurt/comfort story — what more could I want? *Grin*

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Wolfen Moondaughter is on the editorial board for the comics industry webzine Sequential Tart, for which she has written since late 2001. She’s an artist, too, having done spot illustrations for Dragonlance, among other things. In her spare time, she’s a rabid fanficcer/fanartist. See more of her work at her site, Wolfen’s Webworld.