Lucas was bored. Very bored. When Bridger had told him that he was going to be part of the setting up of a string of sensor stations to monitor the alarming possibility that the permanent Arctic icecap was beginning to break up, Wolenczak had leapt at the chance. What he hadn't realised was that, even with practice, it took time to set up, calibrate and initiate each station. Time which had started to weigh more and more heavily on the teenager.

He shifted restlessly and shot a resentful look to where Ortiz and O'Neill had their heads together over the innards of the probe which they and Krieg had set up in the centre of the prefab structure erected to protect it against the elements. It was all right for those two; they had more than enough to keep them occupied, with O'Neill responsible for establishing the satellite uplink and assisting Ortiz in calibrating the station, while Miguel initialised the systems. Only then could Lucas set to work programming the actual test-system and by now he was so familiar with it that he no longer had to either think about what he was doing or concentrate to any great extent. That meant that he had even more opportunity to be bored.

Even Krieg had more to do that he did, he reflected in growing disgruntlement. The lieutenant had been added to their team by Ford at the last moment, but he had proved himself to be an expert at driving their snowcat across the deceptive Arctic landscape and had pitched in with the erecting of the prefab structures and manhandling the electronic equipment without a murmur of complaint. Lucas was uncharitably certain that he was up to something but he couldn't help but feel a little left out of the banter between the other three. No matter how hard he tried to join in, he always seemed to end up saying or doing something which annoyed the others.

Right now he was wishing he was back in the warm confines of seaQuest and he had never listened to Bridger's suggestion that he might like to get more involved in the day to day missions the boat undertook. If he was going to kick his heels, he'd much rather do it without freezing various parts of his anatomy.

The door to the prefab opened, letting in a blast of air which was even colder than the temperature inside. They had installed minimal heating, as well as equipping the place with emergency equipment, as per requirements with any structure in the Arctic, but conditions were still less than ideal. Ortiz, especially, seemed to feel the cold and Lucas had amused himself with a few snide comments before O'Neill had slapped him down with a glare which had warned the teenager against pushing his luck too far. Now the Cuban gave a yelp and tugged his padded jacket even closer around him.

"Close the damn door, Krieg!" he yelled. "It's taken forever to get the temperature up as far as it's got already without you ruining everything."

"Okay, okay," Krieg said amiably, sliding the door shut and triggering the latch. "I haven't figured out a way of getting in to these places without opening the door, yet, but I'm working on it. I figured you'd be ready to break for a meal by now."

"Oh, great," Lucas muttered. "More rations."

O'Neill shot him an impatient look, but the other two ignored him, which annoyed Lucas even more. Krieg hefted the box he had brought in with him and strode across to the makeshift table, carefully nudging to one side the components scattered across its surface.

"Lunch will be about ten minutes," he announced. "This is going to be our last stop, though. seaQuest called while I was in the snowcat. Weather conditions are starting to deteriorate and there are blizzards forecast for this afternoon. Bridger wants everyone back on board, just in case."

"Fine by me," Ortiz said. "I think important bits of me are going to stop functioning if I don't get back in the warm soon. I hope our next assignment is somewhere tropical." He glared at Tim as the comtech gave a muffled snort of laughter, then turned his attention back to the Supply officer. "I'm almost afraid to ask, Ben, but what have you got us for lunch? Please don't tell me that it's beef stew again."

"Why, don't you like my subtle variation on standard beef stew?" Krieg inquired in injured accents. "I thought the odd pinch of herbs did wonders for the regulation rations."

"Krieg, it would take a ton of herbs to make that stuff palatable," O'Neill pointed out. "About the only thing it has going for it is the fact that it's warm. Not hot, which would be even better, but warm. In fact, the only reason we know it's beef stew is the fact that that's what's printed on the label of the can!"

"Great. I have to be supply officer to a couple of gourmets," Krieg sniffed. "As a matter of fact, it isn't beef stew this time. Since we're going to be going back to the boat after this, I decided to bring out my surprise."

"What surprise?" O'Neill immediately asked with predictable curiosity.

"If it's ice cream for dessert he's dead meat," Ortiz promised darkly, but he drifted across in O'Neill's wake.

"Oh ye of little faith," Krieg mourned. "Look, I know how awful standard rations are, so I asked Lorenzo to make us up one decent meal I could put in a thermal pack and reheat any time I wanted."

"How the heck did you manage to persuade Lorenzo to do that?" O'Neill demanded. "The last I heard she was threatening to take your head off with a cleaver for insulting the food in the Mess for the ten thousandth time!"

"Ah, but I am noted for my charm, my wit and the fact that I can lay my hands on non-standard catering merchandise she can't get through UEO channels," Krieg pointed out smugly. "Lorenzo gets freeze-dried herbs direct from their country of origin and I-" he lifted away the lid of the box "-get the packed lunch to end all packed lunches!"

O'Neill peered inside and went from curious to ecstatic in a nanosecond. "Pasta? You got her to make you pasta? You just got yourself priority communications for a week!"

"Only a week?" Krieg pouted. "You're a hard man to please, O'Neill. I figured since it was tagliatelle con salsa di noci, I'd get at least two weeks. I had to get the mascarpone specially."

O'Neill eyed him thoughtfully, then grinned. "Ten days and that's my final offer," he said.

"You drive a hard bargain, O'Neill," Krieg grumbled, shaking his head, "but you've got yourself a deal. Ortiz?"

"I don't care what it is," Ortiz grumbled. "There's steam rising, which means it's hot. That's all I care about."

"Boy, you're a regular grouch when the temperature falls, aren't you? It doesn't matter, anyway, because the pasta isn't for you-"

"So hand me the beef stew."

"Let him have his fun, Miguel," O'Neill chided as he accepted the large bowl Krieg handed him. All that earned him from the Cuban was a growl and Krieg gave a wicked laugh.

"Well, I could rustle up some beef stew, if you really insisted," he said gravely, "but then who would I give the chilli to?"

"Chilli?" Ortiz' moroseness evaporated instantly. "You got Lorenzo to make chilli?"

"Yep. My diplomatic skills are legendary. She says to take extra care in handling this. Since she knew it was for you she made it one level up from incandescent and she doesn't want to be held responsible for second degree burns!"

"Gimme!" Ortiz all but snatched the bowl Krieg offered him and retreated to a convenient box to sit on.

"It takes so little to make him happy," Krieg quipped. O'Neill grinned back but didn't waste time replying. "There's warm bread as well, guys," Ben continued, pulling that out of a box which seemed to be assuming the deceptive dimensions of a Tardis. "Lucas?"

Despite himself, Lucas couldn't hold down a spurt of curiosity as he moved closer. "Yeah?"

"Not even I could persuade Lorenzo to make hot dogs," Krieg admitted. "You know how she feels about fast food."

"No pizza," Ortiz mourned as he picked up a chunk of French bread.

Krieg rolled his eyes and grinned. "Right. I know you like Chinese, but that doesn't really fill a person up for long, especially in cold weather like this. In the end I got you the same as I got for myself. Fries, swordfish steaks and pancake rolls. Hope it's okay."

Seeing the faint look of anxiety in Krieg's eyes, Lucas gave the lieutenant a reassuring grin. "That's great, Ben," he said sincerely. "I wasn't looking forward to the beef stew either!"

The rest of the meal passed in a satisfying silence. Watching the way the others wolfed down the food, Krieg felt cautiously pleased with himself. He had sensed the atmosphere worsen as the day had worn on, although 'day' was a relative term with the Arctic halfway through its six months of daylight. In retrospect, spending the 'night' in the snowcat so they could make an earlier start in the 'morning' had been a big mistake. Lucas was too inexperienced in these matters to suffer the various inconveniences in silence and his irritation had eventually rubbed itself off on the others. O'Neill might have the patience of a saint from Krieg's point of view, but even he had his limits and his fuse was always at its shortest when anyone got on Miguel's back.

The lieutenant eyed the Cuban covertly as he ate his own meal. Ortiz tended to try and make a joke about it, but he was genuinely more vulnerable to the cold than the others were, even wearing the special undersuits designed for Arctic wear. Having grown up in Cuba, worked in closed-environments and then been stationed in Hawaii, he had never really had to worry about temperatures falling below zero. Arctic conditions were pure hell for him and a sure sign of his misery was the way his temper shortened to the point where O'Neill had interceded before Lucas got a cuff around the ears which would have given him something genuine to complain about.

Krieg sighed to himself. Being Morale officer was often a lot harder work than people gave him credit for. When he had learned that Lucas was part of a team being sent out to set up the sensor-array, Krieg had immediately 'volunteered' himself to join them. He had guessed that Lucas didn't realise just how much of the job would be repetitive and past experience told him how the teenager reacted to being bored. That he had been right did more to depress than elate him, since it meant that he had had to work twice as hard to keep everyone's spirits up. Normally Tim would have noticed what was going on and helped out, but not when Miguel was the target.

"That was wonderful, Ben," O'Neill sighed when he reluctantly came to the conclusion that he had finished the meal. "Thanks for the thought."

"Yeah. I knew there had to be a reason we put up with your driving," Ortiz agreed, his usual good-humoured smile back in place. "I don't suppose you brought some decent coffee along with you as well?"

Krieg gave him a look of pure consternation. "Oh, hell, I forgot to bring it with me!" he exclaimed. "I left it in the snowcat."

"I'll get it," Lucas offered, deciding that he really ought to try and make up for some of the things he had said. "Where did you leave it?"

"Thanks, Lucas," Krieg said gratefully. "Can't say I was looking forward to going back out in the cold."

Lucas realised what he meant as soon as he left the security of the prefab and started across to where they had parked the snowcat. While it didn't seem all that warm inside, it was positively tropical in comparison to outside. The strong sunshine he remembered previously had all but vanished and an uneasy glance up at the sky revealed a huge bank of ominous looking clouds. It looked as though the blizzard Krieg had been mentioning was well on its way towards them.

The temperature inside the snowcat was a little higher and Lucas stayed where he was for a moment, trying to restore feeling to the tip of his nose and cheeks. He recalled being told that the wind was the worst enemy of someone exposed in the Arctic and it certainly had a way of finding its way through all the layers of clothing a person had on and chilling you to the bone. After a while he decided that he had put off the evil moment for long enough and, after retrieving the large thermos from where Krieg had secreted it, he turned to brave the elements once more.

The sudden lurch the snowcat gave took him completely by surprise and he tumbled into one of the seats, banging his hip painfully against a metal support. Lucas looked around a little wildly and realised that the vehicle was now canted at a very slight angle. Wondering what on earth had happened, he pushed himself back up on his feet and moved forward to the cockpit. A glance outside and he could immediately see what had happened. The smooth white expanse of snow was now marred by a dark zigzagging shadow where the snow had subsided. The shadow started a short distance away and arrowed towards and underneath the snowcat.

Lucas had paid enough attention to Krieg to know about the way crevasses could suddenly open up in what appeared to be safe and solid ice. Panic closed his throat at the thought of them losing the snowcat down such a crack. With no way of getting back to seaQuest, they would be trapped here when the blizzard struck. Putting the thermos down, Lucas slid into the driver's seat and set about powering up the engine. He doubted that he had enough time to get back to the prefab and tell Krieg what was happening.

He had never driven a snowcat before, so he was enormously relieved when the engine roared into life on his first attempt. He figured that it couldn't be very different from driving a car and he had managed to do that pretty well when he had tried it. Another lurch on the part of the snowcat made him realise that he was running out of time and he hurriedly put the vehicle in reverse and poured on the power, hoping that he could manoeuvre it out of trouble before it was swallowed by the developing crevasse.

"What the hell?"

Krieg jerked around to stare in the direction of the snowcat when he heard engines roar into life. Ortiz and O'Neill left off working on the probe to listen as well, just as surprised and alarmed by the unexpected noise.

"What does that kid think he's doing?" Krieg demanded in exasperation as he ran for the door. "He was supposed to be bringing us some coffee, not taking the 'cat for a test-drive!"

"I suppose we were hoping for too much that he'd stay out of trouble for more than a couple of seconds once we took his eyes off him," O'Neill sighed as he and Ortiz followed the lieutenant outside. "Maybe he just wants us to be as cold as he is-" He skidded to a verbal and physical halt when he realised Krieg was standing rooted to the spot just outside the door. "A little warning would be nice, Ben!" he yelped indignantly.

"That crazy kid!" Krieg yelled before he lunged forward, waving his hands wildly. "Lucas! Get out of there.... NOW!" he bellowed.

"What- oh my God," O'Neill moaned as he realised what was happening.

Quite where the crack in the ice had appeared from was a matter of pure conjecture. What was all too obvious, however, was the fact that Lucas was unwittingly reversing the snow cat in the same direction that the crack was travelling in. The teenager wouldn't realise that, of course, since the bulk of the vehicle itself concealed how bad the crack was.

The watching men were in a better position and could see the way the snow was beginning to slide into a dark slit which was broadening by the second. At any moment one of the snowcat's treads was going to be minus any kind of support and after that there was no way of preventing it from falling through. How far it would plunge would depend on how wide and deep the crack ended up, but it wasn't the kind of thing you wanted to take chances on. They could see Lucas through the windscreen, but the kid was too intent on what he was doing to look up and see their frantic signals.

O'Neill blinked as Krieg took a flying leap and somehow managed to land just outside the door, despite the way the 'cat was starting to slew about. One of the treads was already beginning to loose purchase, which meant that an inexperienced driver like Lucas was unable to control it. Even though he had guessed what Ben planned, Tim still couldn't hold back a curse when the lieutenant tore open the door and half-lunged, half-fell inside.

"Come on," Ortiz said as he brushed past Tim. "He may need help getting himself and Lucas out again."

O'Neill kept his own fears to himself, assuming that Miguel had already considered the fact that neither man might get back out before the snowcat fell through the ice. Swallowing the sick feeling at what might happen, Tim trailed after Ortiz and kept a wary eye on the crevasse. Splinter cracks shooting out from the main fault was just as big a danger to them. Ortiz had paused a safe distance away from the 'cat and was watching in grim silence as Krieg came into sight through the windscreen and physically hauled Lucas away from the controls.

"It's going to go," O'Neill said in despair, seeing the steadily increasing angle which the vehicle was leaning at.

"There they are!" Miguel responded.

Krieg had appeared at the hatch with Lucas in tow and spared one quick look around. "Get ready to grab Lucas!" he yelled when he spotted them.

O'Neill watched with his heart in his mouth as Krieg practically threw Lucas off the wildly canted side of the snowcat. Despite the fact that he had obviously known what Krieg intended to do, the teenager still landed badly, one of his legs skidding out from underneath him and tipping him face down in the snow. Terrified that Wolenczak would slide underneath the snowcat and get pulled to his death, Tim lunged forward, grabbed a handful of coat and threw himself back with all him might. Lucas helped him as much as possible and the two of them staggered back out of danger.

"Come on, Krieg!" O'Neill heard Ortiz yell. "You can worry about style points later!"

Doing his best to disentangle himself from Lucas, O'Neill gave up being considerate and elbowed the teenager out of the way when he heard Krieg give the kind of yell reserved for your worst nightmare about the same time as Ortiz lunged past them and there was a cracking sound loud enough to slightly deafen him, followed by a prolonged rumbling roar. When he did manage to flounder on to his knees, he stared around in growing bewilderment, unable to see any sight of either Ortiz or Krieg.

"Ortiz! Krieg! Where the hell are you?" he yelled as he stumbled to his feet and moved forward.

"Tim, give me a hand!"

Ortiz' voice seemed to be coming from directly under Tim's feet, but when he moved forward a little he realised that the Cuban had actually slid a little way over the edge of the newly created crevasse and was wedged tight and half smothered by loose snow.

"Hang on, Mig, I'm coming."

"Hurry up," Ortiz gasped. "I'm hanging on to Ben but I think he's out cold and I don't know how secure my grip is."

Despite the urgency of the situation, O'Neill was cautious. He wouldn't do either of the others any good if he stepped on a loose piece of ice and joined the snowcat at the bottom of the ravine which had opened up. Eventually he managed to edge himself around until he could see Krieg's limp form slowly turning in mid-air and gently nudging against the ice wall. Ortiz had grabbed his hand and hung on, but with Krieg a dead weight he was in danger of being pulled over the edge himself. The only thing keeping the Cuban in place was a large ice boulder he was braced against and Tim was uneasily aware of the steady drift of particles which was falling from it.

"Lucas, see if you can bring some thick wire from the prefab. Make it the longest length you can find." O'Neill called over his shoulder. He didn't wait to see Wolenczak scramble to his feet and obey, swinging back to concentrate on Ortiz. "Can you hang on a little longer, Miguel? I can't see any way I can take over without running the risk of knocking the two of you over the edge."

"I'll have to hang on then, won't I?" Ortiz pointed out. "I can't see the bottom, Tim. I can't see the snowcat." His voice was shaking slightly and Tim winced in silent sympathy.

"Let's see if we can keep it that way," he said finally, then looked up as Lucas arrived back in a flurry of snow, thrusting the cable he had brought with him into the comtech's hands. To Tim's pleasure it was an unused roll, which meant he had enough for the only thing he could think of to do. Taking the pliers from the workbelt he still mercifully wore, he measured off a length and cut it free.

"It's the thickest I could find without wasting time looking," the teenager panted. "What can I do to help?"

"Take this end and tie it to the support post we set up for the radio mast," he ordered, giving Lucas one end of the roll. He busied himself tying the other end around his waist, looping the extra length around his neck.

"O'Neill?"

"Yeah, Ortiz?"

"Please tell me you're not doing what I've got a horrible idea you're doing," Ortiz said breathlessly.

O'Neill gave a rueful grin. Even face down in snow with nearly two hundred pounds of supply officer dragging him over the edge, Ortiz still managed to sound exasperated. "You got any better ideas?" he asked.

"You could tie the cable around me and then pull us both back up," Ortiz protested.

"I can't get the cable around you at the angle you're at, Miguel. At least not without running the risk of pushing you over. That boulder's all that's keeping you from going over."

"I know," Ortiz admitted. "My arm feels like it's going to give way at any moment."

"Then that settles it," Tim snapped. He caught Lucas' wave and gave the cable a hearty tug to test it. "Just hang on a little longer, Miguel. It took us too long to break Krieg in to lose him now. Besides, Hitchcock would probably have our ears if we dented him. I think she wants to reserve that pleasure for herself."

He was talking mainly to keep his mind over what he was about to do. It took a definite leap of courage to start himself over the edge of the ravine and only the fact that two lives depended on his doing it could have made him do it. From this new angle he could see Miguel's face with the lines of strain on it. The Cuban was white as a sheet, although whether that was from exhaustion or cold was a moot point. O'Neill gave him as reassuring a smile as he was capable of as he inched past.

Krieg was still unconscious, a dark bruise starting to form on the side of his face where he had connected with something. O'Neill eyed the angle the shoulder opposite the arm Miguel was holding and suspected that it was probably dislocated. It was maybe just as well that Ben was unconscious. The pain would be excruciating. Using his free hand to edge his way across the ice face, O'Neill eventually managed to grab hold of Krieg and threw the shorter length of cable around them both, tying them together. Once he was certain that the knots were secure, he glanced up to look into Ortiz' worried face.

"This is where I'm going to need you to move fast, Miguel," he warned.

"I know," Ortiz said grimly. "On the count of three?"

O'Neill nodded. "One... two... three!"

Ortiz let go of Krieg and pushed himself away from the boulder at the same time. O'Neill dimly heard him yelp, but all of Krieg's weight had abruptly settled on him as they had dropped several feet and even though he had braced himself for it, the breath was still forced out of his lungs as the cable around him abruptly constricted. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to settle Krieg's weight a little more evenly while hanging on to the cable for dear life. His arms were starting to feel as though they were coming out of their sockets when the cable mercifully jerked and then he felt them starting to rise.

He did his best to help by seeking out small imperfections in the ice with his feet and using them as push-off points, but while Krieg was draped around him he had to rely on Ortiz and Lucas pulling them up. He was horribly aware of the tiny creaks and groans coming from the ice all around him and tried not to think about the stories he'd heard of crevasses snapping shut just as arbitrarily as they had opened. He offered up a silent prayer of thanks when the lip of the crevasse came into view and they gradually inched over it.

As soon as he thought it was safe, Tim did his best to help the process along, although he kept a tight hold of the cable with one hand until he felt his knees against level ground. Once he was certain there was no chance of them slipping back over, he yelled at Miguel and Lucas to stop pulling and started to untie himself. He was soon joined by the other two, Lucas almost incoherent with relief.

"I think Ben's shoulder is dislocated," Tim warned Miguel as the Cuban helped him with knots made stubborn by the weight they had supported.

"Great, I hate putting those back in," Ortiz grumbled. He eventually stopped trying to untie one particularly recaltrient knot when he realised his hands were shaking too badly. "I wish you wouldn't pull these crazy stunts, O'Neill."

"Me?" Now that the immediate danger was past, Tim was conscious of a giddy sense of relief washing over him. "I wasn't the one hanging upside-down over a bottomless crevasse!"

"No, but you were the one who could have ended up bungee-jumping without a rope if something had gone wrong," Ortiz pointed out loftily, then spoiled the effect by shivering.

O'Neill eyed him in silence, concern replacing the euphoria. Ortiz was soaked to the skin and with the wind picking up the way it was, it wouldn't be long before he started to freeze. They needed to get inside and fast.

"Come on, let's get Ben into the prefab. It'd be better to reset his shoulder before he comes to. Lucas, you get over to his good side. Miguel, go in before you turn into a popsicle!"

The fact that Ortiz didn't argue frightened O'Neill more than anything else. He watched Miguel push himself to his feet and move off in the direction of the prefab, then turned his attention back to Krieg. With Lucas' help he managed to drape the lieutenant over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and trailed after Ortiz.

Miguel had made a beeline for the small inbuilt heating unit and was obviously trying to increase its output. Its original function was just to keep the temperature within the prefab above freezing, but now they needed it to do a heck of a lot more. Tim took Krieg over to the heating outlets and let him down with a sigh of relief.

"Okay, we're going to have to contact seaQuest and let them know what's happened, but first things first. Lucas, dig out the blankets and the first aid kit. Miguel, take your clothes off."

"What?" Ortiz left off tampering with the heater and stared at him stupidly.

"Take your clothes off, idiot," O'Neill repeated impatiently. "You're soaked to the skin and if you don't dry off you're going to suffer from hypothermia." He broke off as Wolenczak brought back the things he had asked for. "Thanks, Lucas. Here," he handed Ortiz several of the blankets. "Use one to towel off and wrap yourself in the others. We'll try and dry your clothes as quickly as possible."

Mercifully, the comments Ortiz muttered under his breath were in Spanish and Lucas was unlikely to either understand or be able to repeat them. With one problem out of the way, O'Neill turned his attention back to Krieg. Like Ortiz, he had been trained in basic first-aid, but putting a dislocated shoulder back into its socket wasn't something he was experienced in. To tell the truth, he had never done more than watch a demonstration. Technically speaking, he knew that the correct procedure was just to immobilise the arm and wait until a trained medic arrived, but with conditions the way they were, he had no way of knowing how long that would be.

"If you hang on a moment, I'll do it for you," Ortiz said wearily, obviously understanding the reason behind O'Neill's hesitation. "I've done it before, remember?"

O'Neill winced. Since he had been the patient on that occasion, he remembered only too well, although the details were mercifully blurred. One thing he did recall was the pain, which was another reason he wanted to reset the shoulder before Ben came round.

"You think you're up to it?" he asked Ortiz doubtfully.

Ortiz sighed as he tossed aside the blanket he had been using as a towel and hurriedly wrapped a dry one around him. "Tim, I'm just tired and cold, that's all. Besides, you know what might happen if you-know-what decides to kick in while you're doing it."

That earned him a first-degree glare. O'Neill disliked being reminded of his emerging - and highly erratic - empathic talents at the best of times. Their current situation was hardly that. Unfortunately he had to accept that Ortiz was right. Physical contact always enhanced the effects, so if he inadvertently linked with Krieg during the actual resetting of the shoulder, he was likely to overload before he could compensate.

"Fine. You do it then. I'll go and see what I can do about raising seaQuest."

He ignored the soft sigh Ortiz gave as he stalked past the Cuban to where the communications equipment was, but he felt a stab of guilt nonetheless. Tim was willing to admit to himself that he was being a little irrational about his potential abilities, but they struck too close to the foundations of his faith. He had had enough trouble coping with the sudden discovery that aliens did, in fact, exist, contrary to the basic teachings of the Church. To also accept that he wielded powers considered occult and by inference evil, was simply too great a step for him to take just yet.

In the early days, before he had realised the full implications of what had happened, he had been excited and delighted by the brief glimpse he had had into Darwin's mind. Then he had thought about it and realised that it meant that dolphins were sentient, another thing the Church vehemently rejected. Only Humans had souls; all other life was simply animal and inferior. What he had sensed from Darwin had not been inferior. It had been different, enthralling and - at the time - very much aware of its own mortality.

The implications, once they had set in, had frightened O'Neill out of his wits. That, plus the knowledge of how his family and the rest of his friends would react when they learned of his further estrangement from what they considered 'normal'. Miguel's matter of fact acceptance of what might be happening hadn't been enough to offset the fear of the unknown. He knew he had disappointed Miguel, but he hadn't yet managed to work his way past his own cowardice.

Shoving aside the unwanted thoughts with practised ease, O'Neill bent his attention on getting in contact with seaQuest as soon as possible. The proper radio had been on the snowcat, now who knew how many hundreds of feet down the crevasse. The station had been designed to stay in contact with a satellite, however, so it didn't take long for O'Neill to adapt the existing system to send a message to somewhere a lot closer.

"seaQuest," came Romanoff's precise response, her Russian accent almost completely submerged in what Miguel teased her as being her 'answerphone voice'. "How can I help you, sir?"

O'Neill grinned despite himself. He had never quite figured out why Romanoff considered him so infallible, although it was certainly very gratifying. Miguel, of course, teased him unmercifully about it, although he was careful never to do it if he thought Petra might overhear and her feelings be hurt. "We have a... situation, Romanoff. I need to speak to either Commander Ford or Chief Crocker."

"One moment, Lieutenant."

There was a couple of minutes of dead air, then Bridger's voice came over the link. "O'Neill? Ford's off-duty and Crocker's dealing with another problem at the moment. What's wrong?"

O'Neill had automatically straightened at the sound of the captain's voice. "Um, we lost the snowcat in a crevasse which opened up unexpectedly, sir," he said quickly. "Lieutenant Krieg has sustained a dislocated shoulder and a possible concussion, but the rest of us are all right. We're stranded, though, and with the weather conditions deteriorating the way they have been, I don't think we can remain here."

"I see." Bridger sounded so calm that O'Neill felt his breathing automatically start to slow down. "I'll see if we have a snowcat close to you. If not, we'll send someone out from seaQuest herself. Latest weather reports indicate that there's a serious blizzard heading in our direction, though, so I think you should plan a worse-case scenario, Lieutenant, just in case."

Tim bit his lip, realising that Bridger was telling him to plan for a stranding in an inadequately equipped shelter with an injured man while a blizzard tried to flatten them. It wasn't the kind of suggestion designed to gladden the hearts of junior lieutenants. "Yes, sir," he replied obediently. "I'll do that. O'Neill out."

He turned away from the radio in time to see Ortiz finish covering Krieg with some more of the blankets. The pale, slightly pinched look on the Cuban's face worried him. Despite the fact that he pulled Miguel's leg about it, Tim knew that the situation they were in would be more of a problem for Ortiz than the rest of them. It didn't help that his clothes were still steaming gently in front of one of the heating vents. Moving over to Miguel, Tim shucked off his heavy outer coat and handed it to him.

"Here, put that on," he ordered.

Ortiz jerked back in startlement as the coat materialised in front of his nose. He grabbed at it as O'Neill dropped it and gave the comtech a dark look. "And what are you going to do in the meantime?" he demanded. "Jog around the shelter?"

"Don't be sarcastic," O'Neill said loftily. "I don't feel the cold as much as you do. I've a faster metabolism and providing I get enough food, I burn enough energy to keep me from freezing. The thermals Westphalen made us put on, plus the two jumpers I've got on under this uniform will keep me going until your stuff is dry and you can give me back the coat. How's Ben?"

Ortiz hesitated for a moment longer, then gave in gracefully and started to pull the coat on. "The shoulder's back in place, although it's going to be as sore as hell when he wakes up. The cut on his head was pretty shallow and I can't see any worse damage. The bruising is just that. There's no sign that his cheekbone's been broken. I'll worry more if he doesn't wake up in the next hour or so. What did seaQuest say?"

O'Neill repeated the gist of Bridger's instructions and watched Ortiz bite his lip and shake his head when it came to the bit about staying here during the actual blizzard. The prefab had been designed to protect machines, not people, and although there were emergency supplies, it wasn't going to be a comfortable stay.

"There may be another snowcat within reach," he offered miserably.

Ortiz looked up at that and gave him a look of pure exasperation. "Stop feeling guilty for something that's totally beyond your control, Tim," he chided. "I'll survive. I just won't be very good company," he warned, only half-jokingly.

"Can't be worse than you are when your 'one true love' has dumped you for some other guy," O'Neill retorted.

"Excuse me? 'Dumped'? I am never dumped!" Ortiz huffed indignantly. "Oh, yeah?" Tim was peripherally aware of Lucas drifting closer and decided that a little light relief was in order. "What about Paige?"

"She didn't dump me! We came to a mutual agreement."

"Lorraine?"

"She was two-timing me. I dumped her!"

"Chi-Chi?"

"It just wasn't working out and-" Ortiz crashed to a halt and goggled at O'Neill. "Who the hell was Chi-Chi?" he demanded incredulously. "I don't remember anyone called Chi-Chi!"

"God, but you're fickle. She was Mrs Delgado's poodle." O'Neill heaved a soulful sigh and turned to Lucas. "It was shameless the way she led Miguel on and then ran off with the postman. You were inconsolable for weeks as I recall, Miguel."

"You're going to be on the critical list, if you keep that up," Ortiz retorted grimly, although the gleam in his eyes told Tim that he had realised what the comtech was up to. "That damn fleabag went for me every time she saw me."

"Ah, but there was passion in every bite," O'Neill declared.

He smiled inwardly and gave Ortiz a sly wink when Lucas dissolved into giggles. Perhaps there was a slight edge to the teenager's laughter, but it was a relief of some kind and O'Neill figured that Wolenczak needed something to take his mind off his own near-escape. It didn't help that Krieg had been injured in the process. It was a source of considerable amazement amongst many that Ben had taken Lucas under his wing and seemed intent on standing as a kind of surrogate big-brother to him. O'Neill figured that the attachment was genuine on the lieutenant's part, however, and he suspected that Lucas' complaints on the subject were largely for show.

"Well, if we're going to have to stay here a while longer, I suppose I'd better see what I can do about the heating," Ortiz decided. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Krieg, Lucas? He may start to thrash about when he comes to so I think someone should be at hand to stop him from putting his shoulder out again."

"Sure, Ortiz," Lucas said eagerly. "I'll make sure he stays safe."

"Nice move," O'Neill murmured as he followed Miguel across to the heating unit.

Ortiz shrugged. "I figured he needs to feel useful and Krieg does need to have someone keep an eye on him, just in case. You going to help me beef up this thing?"

"Yeah, although I doubt we can do much with it."

"Trust me, Tim. If it means I don't have to freeze my toes off, I'll find a way of rebuilding this thing," Ortiz promised him fervently.

oooOooo

"Tell me that you don't mean what I think you mean, Manny," Bridger asked Crocker.

It was of little consolation to him that the Security Chief looked just as unhappy about the situation as he did. His initial optimistic belief that they would be able to collect his stranded people had suffered a considerable dent when he had called up Crocker and explained matters to him. Now he and the Security Chief had joined Hitchcock, Westphalen and Ford for a council of war.

"Sorry, Cap, but there's no way we're going to be able to get them back to seaQuest until after the first wave of this blizzard has passed. It's going to be a close run thing as to whether the other crews will get back to shelter in time and it'd be pure suicide to send another 'cat out with the weather deteriorating the way it is. At least the four of them are in shelter and safe from the worst of the weather."

"Chief, those shelters aren't designed for people," Hitchcock pointed out, her eyes wide with concern.

"I know, Commander," Crocker said ruefully, "but the leading edge of that blizzard is going to hit in about fifteen minutes and the reports we've had so far tell us that it's going to be a bad one. Any 'cat out in it will wind up either buried or head first down some crevasse they didn't notice until it was too late. Staying put is probably the best option we've got for the time being. I doubt if the four of them will appreciate someone else risking his or her life to get to them that little bit quicker when they're not really in a life-threatening situation."

"Krieg is injured," Westphalen pointed out.

"Didn't you talk to O'Neill about that?" Ford asked.

"Yes, but neither O'Neill nor Ortiz are trained paramedics and they could easily miss something," Kristen fretted. "True, it sounds as though the injuries are just what they said and it's a big relief that Krieg's come round and is coherent-." She paused and reconsidered her words. "Well, as coherent as he ever is. The point is that I can't be certain until I examine him myself."

"Doctor, I appreciate your concerns, but I have to think of the lives of any rescue party," Crocker persisted. "I've already spoken to O'Neill and Ortiz about this and they agree with my decision. They've managed to increase the heating in the shelter and they have blankets and emergency rations. It won't be a comfortable stay, but they'll survive until the first wave of this blizzard has passed over us and I can send someone to fetch them."

Bridger sighed, recognising the sense of what Crocker was saying but disliking it on principle. "To be honest, I wouldn't have expected any other decision from those two, and Krieg's a lot more responsible than he likes to let on. Even Lucas wouldn't agree to something once he knew it might risk lives. It's not going to be a pleasant stay, though, no matter how well they think they can cope."

"Pleasant isn't all that important for now, Cap," Crocker pointed out as the meeting broke up. "Survival is what counts."

oooOooo