Author: Tipper
Disclaimer: Own nothing and no one. I just hope MGM loves me as much as I love
it.
Archive: Anywhere you want.
Type: Action.
Characters: Sheppard's Team (do they have a designation?) in general, but I do
have a leaning towards McKay (it's the smart-ass thing--I love smart men with
sharp tongues).
Chapters: 22
Spoilers: Childhood's End, Hide and Seek, Suspicion and Underground, I
think. Passing references only.
A/N: This is not my
fandom. I'll say that right off. It's actually miles (and over a hundred years)
away from mine, but I can't seem to help myself. I don't pretend to have
anything but the utmost respect for the many, many, many, MANY writers in the
Stargate fandom, and the many readers and commentators, and I sincerely hope
that you do not beat me up for this. It's my first try. I don't have the
background, not having been a dedicated watcher of the original series (though
I do watch it, just not with any serious attention), and I know next to nothing
about anything scientific or medical (other than common sense). All I can say
is, I had to write something. I was dying to.
A/N 2: Teyla's not
very Teyla at first—she's too humorless for me most of the time in the show,
and I have trouble writing someone that way. She becomes more like the canon
Teyla later.
Description:
Searching again for a Z.P.M on another world, Sheppard's Team find themselves
on a planet with an unusual form of defense against the Wraith--shame it's
broken.
__________________________________________________
CHAPTER
ONE: IDIOMS AND IDIOTS
For some reason, as
seemed to be a common feature of many of the places they'd visited so far, the
planet they were visiting was lush and green. Long grasses, wildflowers,
buzzing insects, thick forests and soft, rolling green hills....They could be
in Montana somewhere, Major Sheppard mused, flying around in a piper on a lazy
summer day, and never know the difference.
Well, except for the
fact that the Puddle Jumper made virtually no noise and 3-D computer images
seemed to randomly appear in the air in front of his face, but other than
that....
When they flew over
the planet where they had met Keras, McKay had started to talk about Colonel
Carter's hypothesis regarding the ecological similarities of the many planets
SG-1 visited, but he'd been cut off when they'd discovered that energy field.
Part of the major actually wanted to hear the end of the story...but he just
couldn't give McKay the satisfaction of knowing that something the doctor had
said had actually been of interest to him.
As if reacting to
his thoughts, he heard McKay mutter something to himself, then shift in his
chair behind John's.
"Land over
there," the doctor directed imperiously, leaning forward into Sheppard's
line of sight for a moment in order to point towards a field.
"You
sure?" Sheppard asked, scrutinizing the landing spot. It looked like every
other field they'd flown over.
McKay snorted as he
leaned back in his chair, favoring the back of Sheppard's head with an acerbic
look. He clearly wasn't going to dignify that with an answer.
The snort of disgust
was really all the response Sheppard needed as he headed for the field, a hint
of a smile on the major's face.
"Just making
sure we won't have to do any unnecessary hiking, McKay," he said.
"After all, you know what they say about skinning a cat."
McKay made a face,
again not bothering to answer, but Teyla piped up from her chair:
"Actually,
no," she admitted, "what do they say? And who are 'they?'"
Ford chuckled,
unable to help himself, and Sheppard smiled, responding cheerfully, "Oh,
'they' just means people in general, Teyla. And what they say about 'skinning
the cat,' is that there is always more than one way to do it."
Teyla frowned.
"More than one way," she paused a moment, "to skin a cat?"
"Yup." The
puddle jumper landed gently in the field, and Sheppard shut it down except for
the cloaking device.
"A cat is
animal you eat, I assume?" Teyla added, her tone curious. "You skin
it before you eat it?"
Ford nearly choked
while McKay pressed his lips together tightly to avoid laughing. Sheppard
grunted, clearing his throat.
"Ah no.
Um...the phrase....I'm just warning McKay to make sure that his decision to
land here is the best one."
"No he's
not," McKay snapped defensively, his good humor at Teyla's question
disappearing instantly. "He's questioning my ability to choose a location,
which, of course, is silly. I wouldn't choose this field if I wasn't certain it
was the closest one to the energy readings we found. You think I'm blindly
pinning a tail on the donkey here? The readings—"
"Now, now,
McKay, no need to get all testy," Sheppard smiled.
"Um,"
Teyla blinked, "I am sorry, but why would you pin a tail on some
poor—"
"Testy?"
McKay laughed, "Oh, I'd let sleeping dogs lie, Major, if I were you."
"Dogs?"
Teyla looked at Ford. The young lieutenant was grinning.
"Birds of a
feather, Teyla," Ford whispered quietly, pointing to the two men then
tapping the side of his nose.
Now Teyla was really
confused, trying to figure out what birds and feathers had to do with one's
nose.
"You? A
sleeping dog?" Sheppard was laughing, turning in his seat to arch an
eyebrow at the scientist, "More like the cowardly lion...."
"Oh, ha
ha," McKay crossed his arms.
"I think
McKay's the tin man, myself," Ford added, still grinning. McKay gave him a
dark look.
"At least I'm
not the Scarecrow and Toto," he announced, lifting his eyebrows and
leaving the two men with no doubt as to his meaning.
"No, wait,
wait," Sheppard grinned, his eyes bright as he looked at Ford, "he's
a flying monkey!" Ford burst into laughter, while McKay rolled his eyes.
None noticed the glower Teyla had adopted.
"If I'm a
flying monkey," McKay whipped back, "then the two of you are—"
"Stop!"
The Athosian stood up, "That's enough! I do not know what any of the
creatures you just mentioned are, but if you do not mind," she stuck her
chin in the air, "I am not in the mood to skin one, pin a tail on one,
watch it sleep or watch it fly! So," pivoting on her heel, she headed to
the back of the craft, "shall we go?"
Ford's laughter
instantly filled the Puddle Jumper, while both McKay and Sheppard shared
surprised glances, before quickly catching the infectious sound. None could
miss the glittering eyes of the glaring woman at the other end of the craft,
impatiently tapping her fingers against the panel that would open the hatch.
__________________________________________
McKay lifted up the hand
held scanner, turning to the left and right to double check his earlier
readings. The others stood around him in a rough circle, watching for movement
and danger...and, frankly, enjoying the nice weather on this planet. The air
was an odd mixture of scents—the smell of the forest was strong, but there was
also a hint that something far away was burning, but the wind shifted too much
to nail it down. After a moment, McKay nodded to himself, pointing in the
direction of the rising sun.
"That
way."
"You
sure?" Sheppard said again. McKay looked at him out of the corner of his
eye.
"Sheppard...."
"Just don't
want you counting your chickens before they're hatched, McKay."
Teyla spun around to
stare hard at the Major. All innocence, Sheppard kept his eyes on McKay. A
slight twitch on McKay's lips was the only indication that the doctor
understood the joke...and was more than willing to play.
"Oh, well, put
it that way," McKay licked his lips, looking back down at the scanner,
"Frankly, Major, I think you're barking up the wrong tree."
Teyla turned her
glare to Rodney.
"Oh?" the
Major said. "And how's that?"
"Because the
day I can't read this device is a day that pigs will fly."
Teyla's glare
intensified, but the Major was grinning.
"So how
far?" he asked.
"Oh, about half
an hour," McKay shrugged, adding smoothly, "as the crow flies."
"Nnnnng,"
Teyla miraculously kept her mouth shut. McKay glanced at her.
"What's the
matter, Teyla?" he asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
The tiniest peep of exasperation
came from her throat, and, instead of replying, she turned and started walking.
The three men couldn't help snickering like her wicked older brothers, even as
Sheppard ran quickly to stop her.
"Teyla, Teyla,
we're sorry," he assured, getting in front of her and trying to appear
sincere. "We'll stop. Look, they're just silly proverbs about earth
animals. We have many."
"We Athosians
have a few ourselves," she challenged, drawing herself up, "but you
do not see me using them to speak over your head, now, do you?"
"No...."
"Then, if you
do not mind...." She raised both eyebrows.
"Okay,
okay," Sheppard looked at McKay and Ford, who were still smiling.
"Boys, that's enough."
Teyla glanced back
at them over her shoulder, and the two men immediately straightened out their
expressions. As soon as she looked back to Sheppard, though, the grins came
back.
Sheppard, seeing
them perfectly clearly because he was facing them, immediately thought of the
phrase "the cat that ate the canary," and it was only through a
supreme effort that he didn't say it out loud. Teyla was watching him
expectantly now, waiting for orders. Inwardly, he sighed. Back to work.
"Okay,
McKay," the major turned to look towards the sun, "let's find that
power source."
____________________________________________
CHAPTER
TWO: THE AMAZING MESA
About two days
previously, a probe sent through the gate to this world had detected a fairly
strong energy reading, strong enough to suggest it could be a Z.P.M. As the world itself appeared peaceful and
quiet without any obvious signs of life, it didn't take much for Weir to
authorize the mission. Once here, McKay
had discovered the energy being utilized was more spread out than initially
indicated, but still remarkably potent.
His readings suggested that something was powering an area the size of a
small city, and, seeing as all they could visually see were trees and the
occasional meadow, that probably meant it had to be underground.
Not the most
auspicious of discoveries.
Still, power was
power and McKay was leading to them to one of the highest concentrations of it.
Teyla moved to the
front as she walked in the direction pointed out by the doctor, striding
purposefully, probably still a little annoyed with them. A woman with a mission, Sheppard thought to
himself.
Thing was, it wasn't
her mission.
Sheppard cleared his
throat, stepping up to match her stride.
"You've been
here before, then?" he asked innocently.
Teyla looked askance
at Sheppard, her brow furrowing slightly.
"No. I believe I have already said that. I have not been here before."
The major frowned in
response, then shrugged, "Then how do you know where you're going?"
Teyla frowned again,
then stopped moving. She realized then
that she had unconsciously moved into the lead of the group, as if she herself
were, in fact, the leader. Sheppard
nodded in mock thanks as he took over the role of point, and she blinked
slightly as she rejoined the vaguely circular formation they usually took when
visiting new planets. Ford winked at
her, while McKay gave no indication at all that he'd heard the exchange,
focused, instead, on the device in his hand.
"So,"
Sheppard spoke again a little while later, "we almost there, McKay?"
A grunt was his
reply.
"McKay?"
the major glanced over his shoulder, his tone a little more commanding.
"Not much
farther, major. Keep your pants
on."
"I'm only
asking, because," Sheppard slowed, "well, we're running out of road,
here."
He stopped. So did Teyla and Ford. McKay only slowed a little, eyes still on his
scanner.
"Well, since
you seem so intent on knowing," the scientist was saying, "the most
concentrated readings are coming from exactly…." McKay stopped finally,
discovering what Sheppard meant as his foot hit solid rock, "Oh."
Then, a moment later, as his body registered that he'd stubbed his toe,
"Ow!" Shaking the foot, he
held up the scanner again, puzzlement clear on his face.
Before him solid
rock rose straight up into the air, forming a massive cliff face. It seemed to climb into infinity, rising well
above the tree line before eventually capping out at a horizon somewhere well
above their heads. It also stretched
away from the little party to both the left and right without obvious end. Bits of grass and plant life peeked out of
the rock's crevices, but, for the most part, it was sheer. The stone itself was gray and speckled, like
granite.
"It should be
here, right here," McKay muttered, tapping the cold rock with his finger
before stepping back with a frown.
"Inside the
mesa?" Sheppard asked coyly.
"Yes, um,"
McKay peered up at the apparently seamless rock, then back at his scanner, then
back to the rock again, "Seems odd, doesn't it?"
"A
little," Sheppard said, stepping forward and placing a hand palm down
against the rock. Then he knocked on it,
earning a slight sting in his knuckles but learning little else. "I think it's solid McKay."
Ford and Teyla both
looked at the doctor, who grimaced, his eyes once more on the scanner. He was still looking supremely puzzled and
now a little disgruntled.
"Um," Ford
adjusted the P90 on his shoulder with a shrug, "sir, not to be difficult,
but are we sure it’s a mesa?"
Sheppard and McKay
both looked at the lieutenant.
"As opposed
to…?" Sheppard prompted.
"I don't
know. A butte?"
McKay half smiled,
looked over at the major, already sensing what was coming.
Sheppard's eyes
narrowed at the young man. "A butte?" he repeated incredulously.
"Sure, I mean,
just—"
"Ford."
"Yes sir?"
"As someone who
is trying not to be difficult, please, tell me, what is the difference between
a mesa and a butte?"
"Um,
well," Ford frowned, "buttes are…smaller?"
"It could also
just be a really big rock," Teyla suggested, looking at them all
expectantly.
McKay grinned at
that. He quickly schooled his face when
he received a glare from Sheppard.
"A big
rock," Sheppard repeated, looking back at the Athosian. "Listen, this," he pointed behind
him at the cliff, "is a mesa.
Buttes," he looked at Ford, "have sloping sides, while this is
a vertical cliff face, and," he looked at Teyla, "it's too big just
to be a big rock."
"Actually,"
McKay mused, "Teyla could be right; it could be a monolith." He glanced at the Major, "Ever been to
Ayers Rock? It's really quite an
amazing—"
"It's a mesa!
That's what we're calling it; that's what it is!" Sheppard was
glaring fully now at the doctor. McKay
just shrugged, a hint of a smile on his face at the tiny victory, and looked
again at the cliff. As he did so, something occurred to him, and he frowned
again, taking a step forward to look more closely. Meanwhile, the major's eyes narrowed, just
then realizing he was being made fun of.
Licking his lips, he quickly turned the tables.
"Well,
Rodney," Sheppard leaned on one leg, "You've basically led us to an
impenetrable wall. Now what?"
"Um," McKay played with his lips a moment, looking back up at the
rock face, "Well, look, it's clearly hollow."
"Doesn't look hollow."
"Well, looks can be deceiving."
"Doesn't feel hollow, either."
"Fine," McKay grimaced, grunted, and lifted his scanner again.
He moved a few steps to the right, then pivoted around and walked a few steps
in the other direction. His eyes lifted upwards, narrowing as he
inspected a portion of the cliff above their heads. "Okay, here's
the thing," he said, looking down again, "according to the readings,
there is a concentration of power
here, but it then leaves this point and spreads itself out in roughly three
directions. To the left and right, the
energy output is negligible but evenly distributed, as it rises upwards,
however," he looked up, eyes narrowing again, "more power is
utilized."
"So more energy is used as you go up," Sheppard reiterated.
"Yes."
"So?" The major shrugged.
"Well," McKay frowned, arching an eyebrow at the major, "doesn't
it make you wonder why?"
"Why what?"
"Why the sky is blue," the doctor snapped. "Why more power is
being used up above, of course!"
"McKay—"
"Look at the
cliff, Major," McKay returned his gaze to the rock, "Doesn't anything
about the cliff over our heads strike you as odd?"
"No."
"Look
closely," the doctor pressed, "and think about the fact that we flew
to a spot not far from here."
Sheppard's eyes
narrowed, while Teyla just looked at Ford.
The lieutenant was blinking, trying to guess what McKay was getting
at. Suddenly, the young man's eyes lit
with understanding, and he was about to speak but the major beat him to it.
"Oh, just tell
us McKay," Sheppard growled.
"I would prefer to return home sometime this century, if you don't
mind."
The doctor sighed,
clearly disappointed.
"Okay, okay," McKay tucked the scanner back into his belt and looked
around his feet, "Maybe I should just show you." After a moment,
he saw a fairly hefty rock and he leaned down to grab it. Tossing it in
his hand for a few moments, he pursed his lips, then leaned back and threw it
with all his might in the direction of the cliff wall about ten feet above
their heads. As one, the other three members of the Team followed the
trajectory of the rock as it arced, fully expecting it to hit the wall and
bounce off.
So, it was with some surprise, then, when it instead passed straight on through
the solid rock.
McKay grinned.
"An illusion!" Teyla gasped, stepping back.
"How did you
know?" Sheppard asked McKay, grudgingly impressed.
McKay, in full smug
mode now, opened his mouth to answer, but Ford beat him to it.
"Because we
didn't see this when we flew in," the lieutenant said, nodding to
himself. "Something this big should
have been really obvious from the air, but all we saw were rolling hills. It must not appear until you're closer to
it." He looked at McKay, "Is
that right?"
"Give the boy a
prize!" McKay grinned back.
"Yes, that, and, if you look at that creeper there," he
pointed to where a fairly large clump of ivy was growing out of a crevice to
the upper right, "it's identical to that one there," he pointed at a
crevice much closer to the ground to their left. "It's simple cloning," he chuckled, "a more impressive version
of a simple photoshop effect."
"Well, whaddya
know," Sheppard nodded, his hands on his hips. "That's one hell of an
illusion."
"But,"
Teyla frowned, "I would not think such a thing would offer much protection
from the Wraith." She shook her
head as they all turned to her, "They would have the same readings as us,
and would move to investigate this place as we have, and, though I know how quickly
your mind works, doctor," she nodded at McKay, "I do not imagine it
would take them long to discern that this," she glanced at Sheppard,
"mesa, as you call it, is an illusion either."
"But perhaps
long enough to give the people inside the opportunity to find a good place to
hide?" Sheppard suggested.
"Wraiths are
masters of illusion themselves," Teyla shook her head, "it would not
be enough time. Their probes, darts and
scanners would penetrate this illusion as easily as the doctor's rock did, as easily
as they did the trees on Athos or any other structure." She shook her head, "I do not see it as
offering any protection at all. It would
delay the inevitable; that is all. If
anything, it would hasten it, as the Wraith would be drawn here."
"Like moths to
a flame," Ford said. Teyla froze
for a second, then turned to look at the lieutenant. He blushed at her gaze, "Sorry. Kinda hard to stop."
"Well if it's
not for protection," McKay interrupted, scratching at the back of his
neck, "then it must have another purpose."
"Maybe,"
Sheppard said slowly, his fingers tapping the butt of his P90, "it's not
to hide the people inside," he frowned, "but something the people
have."
"If there are
people inside," McKay quickly amended.
"We haven't exactly seen any signs of life around here."
Sheppard shrugged,
"They may not know we're here."
"I threw a rock
through their illusion," McKay said, "don't you think that would have
triggered some sort of alarm?"
Sheppard grimaced,
staring at McKay out of the corner of his eye, "Are you saying…that you
may have already pissed these people off?"
McKay blinked a few
times, and smiled briefly before shrugging, "Well, we are pretty good at
doing that; why buck the trend?"
Ford cracked an
involuntary smile, and Teyla looked back up at the cliff, not about to ask what
a buck was. As she studied it, she
became more convinced she could see where real rock ended and fake rock
began.
"Sorry,
sorry," McKay held his hands up.
"Fact is, what you said makes sense. If it's not there to hide people, then it's
hiding something else. Question is,
what?" He crossed his arms, his
lips pursing in concentration, eyes trailing up and down the illusion for an
answer. The other three members of the
team found their minds drawing a blank at the question, but, then again, that's
why McKay was there. As they watched,
the tension left the scientist's face and his lips stretched into a smile—an
answer had been found. Tilting his head
slightly, McKay looked into the expectant face of the major. "What if
what's hidden in there," he smiled more, "is a weapon?"
The major's eyebrows
rose, "A weapon? You're
kidding."
"Well, Teyla
said that the Wraith would be drawn here, right? Well, unless they have some ability we don't
know yet, they still rely on their eyes to see.
If they can't see a threat until too late, then an illusion is
effective. What if," he licked his
lips, "what's inside is a weapon?
When the Wraith ships go inside, the weapon is triggered…." He shrugged.
Sheppard looked back
at the cliff, arching an eyebrow. "A weapon," he repeated, saying the
word as if tasting it.
McKay shrugged,
"Don't get too excited. It's just a
theory."
"But one worth
checking out." The major stepped
forward, hands on his hips now as he looked up.
"So, how do we get in?"
"Well,"
McKay frowned, peering again at the rock face, "there must be a door
somewhere."
"Why do we not
just climb?" Teyla asked. They all
turned to look at her, and she pointed up.
"I am almost certain I can see where the illusion begins. It is not that high. And if a rock can pass through it, why not a
person?"
The major frowned,
"I don't know," he shook his head.
"We don't know what's behind that screen. Could be this world's version of an electric
fence or barbed wire, and you wouldn't see the danger until you're right on top
of it."
"True,"
she admitted, eyeing him, "but there could also be nothing at all. Is it not worth the risk? It could take many days to find a door, if
one even exists."
The major frowned,
then looked at McKay, "Can you disrupt the illusion, enough to give us an
idea of what's behind it?"
McKay frowned,
"Um, maybe." As he spoke, he
was unbuckling the pack on his back, shifting to slip it off, "It's
possible I can interrupt the power to it for a moment, enough to open a kind of
window. Though," he looked back at
Sheppard, "If I do…and that rock didn't trigger some sort of response from
whomever may be inside, I can almost guarantee that my monkeying with their power
source would."
Teyla's eyes
narrowed slightly at "monkeying," mentally connecting it to the
flying monkey comment from earlier.
Made a little more sense, now.
"Oh come on,
McKay," the major stood hipshot, "you're saying someone like you
doesn’t know how to hack into someone's computer without leaving a trail?"
The scientist rolled
his eyes as he knelt, opening his pack to rifle through the contents. After a few moments, he pulled out what the
major would describe as a "doodad" along with some wires. Moving forward, he wedged it into a portion
of the cliff-face, then stepped back, connecting the wires to a tiny keypad he
had also pulled out of his pack. The
other three waited patiently as the scientist's hands attacked the pad, fingers
tapping away like a pianists' on his keys.
Ford, the closest, was the only one to see the number of times McKay hit
the tiny "delete" button in the corner. It was pretty often.
Sheppard sighed,
while Teyla returned her concentration to the rock. Stepping forward, she played her hand on the
cold stone, testing its roughness under her fingers.
"Sir?"
Ford asked, getting a little anxious.
"Yeah?"
"Say we do
climb. Why wouldn't the Wraith do the
same thing? What if the weapon is
triggered the moment anything travels through the illusion, not just flying
machines?"
Sheppard's lips
pursed, and he caught McKay glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, a
fresh look of concern on his face, his fingers pausing for a moment on the
keyboard.
"A Wraith would
not climb this," Teyla said, her tone disdainful for the vampiric
creatures. "They would see no gain.
If they can not cull people using their ships, they often do not bother
with them at all. When you have hundreds
of worlds to choose from, one less group of people is not much of a loss. I would guess there is nothing up there but
air."
"It doesn't
matter," the major said, cutting Teyla short. "We're not going in
blind." He looked back at the
doctor, "McKay? Any luck?"
"Not yet. This technology, while familiar, is still
alien, don't forget, and I'm not sure I even have the right…oh…wait…ha. As usual, I'm smarter than I think I
am."
"Really?"
Sheppard looked at Ford, "I didn't think that was possible."
The lieutenant
smirked, "It's not, sir."
"What?" McKay looked up, catching on a little late,
then his eyes narrowed. "Oh, very
droll." Ignoring them for now, he
typed a little more then stopped. "There we go. Look up," he directed, lifting up his
head. Four pairs of eyes focused on the
rock wall as McKay hit the enter pad on his scanner.
A "window"
opened in the illusion about five feet above their heads. It showed what looked like a metal railing,
lining the end of a dark, concrete corridor, and concrete walls on both sides. Before they could see more, however, the
window closed, and the illusion of the mesa returned. McKay gave a tiny swear, attacking his little
keypad again.
"McKay?"
"Something has
blocked me out—must be a failsafe mechanism.
I could probably find another way around the defenses of the computer
creating this illusion, but," he looked at Sheppard, "I'm not sure
what more we would learn. There's
obviously a way in up there."
"Shall I go
then?" Teyla asked, already shifting her P90 around to her back. Ford's eyebrows lifted.
"You?"
"I am the
lightest, and I am adept at climbing. If
you boost me up, I can be over that railing we saw in a matter of
moments."
"Well, sure,
but—"
"She's right,
lieutenant," Sheppard walked
forward, pressing his hand to the rock again, "Besides, it was her
idea." Turning, he looked back at the Athosian, "No time like the
present." he looked past her to the lieutenant, "Ford, cover
her. McKay," the scientist perked
his eyebrows, "You see any sort of spike in those power readings from that
thing, you yell and Teyla, you fall back.
We'll catch you."
McKay nodded, while
Teyla just rubbed her hands together to warm them in anticipation of the climb.
"Okay,
Teyla," Sheppard put his hands together in a cradle and lowered them,
"Alley-oop."
She paused, her
mouth opening to ask, then decided not to bother. Jogging up to him, she placed her foot into
his hands and allowed him to propel her upwards. Her fingers quickly found handholds and, in
seconds, she was scrambling up the cliff.
Her hands grabbed the edge of the railing she had seen when McKay opened
the window, trusting her sense of touch over that of her sight, since to her
eyes it appeared as if her arms were melting through solid rock.
On the ground below,
McKay kept his eyes glued to the scanner, while both Ford and Sheppard had
their machine guns raised and pointed, following Teyla's progress as she
quickly passed straight through the illusion…and disappeared. Both the major and the lieutenant's jaw
muscles tensed, trying not to be concerned when she didn't immediately
reappear.
"Major
Sheppard," Teyla's calm voice came in clearly over the radio.
Not lowering his
hold on his rifle, the major nudged the receiver on the radio on his shoulder,
"Yes Teyla. What do you see?"
"Well, I am
afraid Doctor McKay was correct. Our
presence has not gone undetected."
McKay made a sound a
little like a chirrup as the readings on his scanner suddenly spiked at the same
time that a new, wider window in the illusion opened, and not one of his
making.
Teyla stood watching
them from the inside of the railing. She
was surrounded on all sides by guards in dark green uniforms, one of whom held
what appeared to be a gun like a nineteenth century peacemaker to her head,
while the rest pointed what looked a little like lever-action hunting rifles
down on the three men. Sheppard sighed,
though he didn't lower his weapon.
"Anyone else
got a real strong send of déjà vu here?" he muttered.
________________________________________________
CHAPTER
THREE: DEUCALION
The guns were
lowered after some very fast talking, a skill Major Sheppard found he was
getting better and better at, especially with Teyla's calm tones backing him
up. The lieutenant in charge of the
platoon that had "captured" them was a young, dark-haired woman,
slender and taller than Teyla, but not by much, and, after some communication
with her superiors using a control panel along one wall, agreed to take them to
her leader. Surprisingly, they were also
allowed to retain their weapons, though Sheppard guessed that to be in part
because these platoon members were nervous of the strangeness of the P90s on
their shoulders and 9mms strapped to their thighs.
Perhaps ten minutes
later, after a couple of the guards dropped down and led them to a hidden
ladder leading to entrance not far from their location, they were all inside
the illusion and being marched down a series of man-made, cave-like corridors
through a labyrinth that would have made Daedelus proud. There was a faint, musty smell in the air,
probably caused by the presence of lichen on the inside of the cave walls, and
McKay sneezed a couple of times.
Sheppard finally recognized what the smell really was--it was
disuse.
"You have to
understand, Major," the young lieutenant was saying, glancing sideways at
the taller Sheppard with dark brown eyes, "You've literally come out of
nowhere. However…human…you look, we have
been fooled before."
"Really?"
McKay asked, jogging a little to keep up with the brisk pace the lieutenant and
the longer legged Major Sheppard were making, "How? Who?"
The lieutenant waved
her hand, "Another race. It's not
important, as it was a long time ago, but we have long memories."
"As do we
all," Teyla agreed sagely.
"How did you
figure out this other race wasn't human?" McKay pressed, jogging
again. The young lieutenant looked at
him out of the corner of her eye.
"I'm not
sure," she admitted, "but probably when they started killing
us."
"Ah,"
McKay dropped back.
"It was a long
time ago. That race may be long gone,
for all I know. They never did come
again."
"This, uh, this
other race," Sheppard began, "they weren't, oh, freakily tall with long,
wrinkly faces and stringy whitish hair…."
"No," the
lieutenant gave a small smile, "That's the Wraith. You can't mistake them for human."
"No," the
major shrugged, "I suppose not."
McKay frowned. Was he the only one disturbed by the
information the lieutenant had just imparted?
It worried him. Then again,
everything worried him. He glanced
around at the armed guards flanking them, all still with their hands on their
rifles, and sighed. Oh well…no fear like
the present, he mused gloomily.
Eventually, they
reached what appeared to be a large, steel framed door, and the lieutenant
stood back, indicating to two of her men to open it. They obliged quickly, and the whole platoon
blinked as bright sunlight poured into the darkly lit hallway. A moment later, the lieutenant was leading
them up a set of stairs.
The Team from
Atlantis had to stop as they reached the top—they would have tripped over their
feet otherwise.
"Wow,"
McKay breathed.
"Yeah,"
Sheppard agreed.
They had emerged on
one side of a massive circular courtyard enclosed by a spectacularly high glass
dome, the translucent roof shimmering and glittering beneath the sun shining
through from overhead. A number of the
windows in the ceiling of the dome were raised, allowing fresh air inside,
though the musty smell still pervaded.
At their feet, the rose and gray marble floor was laid in the pattern of
a many pointed star, pointing in all directions. McKay lifted the scanner, taking in readings
quickly. Dark, closed doors stood at various
points along the glass walls, but, looking through the glass on either side of
the doorways, it appeared they all simply led outside into more thick forest
like the one they'd just left.
It was gorgeous.
The lieutenant
smiled a little at their awed expressions, then looked around herself. "Other than the sky directly
overhead," she told them, "it's all just more illusion—mirrors
mostly. You are actually standing at the
center of our small city, at the heart of the mesa."
"Ha!"
Sheppard's exclamation startled the young woman, and she blinked. Clearing his throat, the major looked
momentarily sheepish. "Sorry,"
he said, "inside joke."
The lieutenant
raised her eyebrows, but otherwise didn't respond. "In any event," she said, "the
doors all lead to various different parts of the city. I'm afraid to say that, other than this
courtyard, most of it is a plain gray stone.
The city really wasn't built for anything except a last defense against
the Wraith." As they looked at her
again, she smiled once more. "Now,
if you'll follow me, I'll take you to meet Governor Borin."
"Um,"
Teyla cleared her throat, "before you do, may I ask: what is your city
called?"
"Oh," the
lieutenant chuckled, "My apologies.
Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford, Doctor McKay and Teyla Emmagen,"
she swept her hand out, "welcome to Deucalion. Now," she lowered the hand, "shall
we go?"
"Um,"
McKay held up a finger, "as you're being so helpful," he pointed to a
door off to the left. Unlike the other
doors, this one appeared open…and a shield of what look like a liquid mirror
filled the interior about two feet from the entrance. McKay looked back at the lieutenant,
"Where does that door go?"
She looked at the
door, her face expressionless. When she
turned her dark eyes back to the major, he saw a sadness in them.
"The Governor
may be able to answer that. Now, if
you'll please follow me." And
turning on her heel, she led them across the marble floor towards a metal door
roughly opposite from where they were, her boot heels clicking against the
surface, echoing inside the dome.
It was only then
that it occurred to Sheppard how empty the courtyard was—where were all the
people?
___________________________________________
"You come seeking
allies."
Governor Borin
leaned forward on her desk, her fingers steepling together, her statement a
repetition of Major Sheppard's last words.
She was not a physically formidable woman, her silver streaked reddish
hair trapped up atop her head in a tight bun, her dark eyes shadowed with what
looked like many sleepless nights.
Still, there was an obvious steel to her bearing and her voice that
belied her looks. Her outfit was plain—a
long green coat over a white shirt, and matching long green trousers. A pendent at her throat reminded McKay of
green amber. She was probably about
fifty years old, and the lines around her lips suggested most of those years
had been pleasant. Now, however, her
lips were pressed in a thin, humorless line.
"That's
right," Sheppard said, leaning back in his chair.
"And what do
you imagine we can offer you?"
McKay perked up from where he sat on the Major's left, "Are you
kidding? This illusion of yours is an amazing piece of technology!
If we could study it--"
"It offers no real protection," the Governor informed him
coolly. "The Wraith ships just pass right through. They know
the mesa is much smaller than it appears and that they can fly in high without
risk of hitting anything, not even a building.
You are on the top floor of the tallest structure in the city, and it is
only four stories."
"Then why not
build something tall that they will hit?" Ford asked, "A metal dome
inside the illusion? They try to fly
through and," he drove his fist into his palm, "Smack!
Boom!" Outside of Ford's eyeline,
Sheppard glanced at Rodney, his lips forming the word "smack,
boom?" McKay covered his mouth to
hide a smirk.
Oblivious to their
antics, the Governor was shaking her head at Ford, "Even if we had the
sort of resources to build such a thing, which we don't, their ships would
simply blast through it with their weapons as soon as they knew it was
there."
"Then why have the illusion at all?" Sheppard asked. The older
woman shifted her tired eyes to the major, reading his face. After a
moment, she gave a small smile.
"Seems to me you already know, or," she tilted her head, "have a
good idea."
"We think you may have a weapon," Teyla said, her usual brutal
honesty coming to the fore. "Something that can deal with the ships
that pass through the illusion's walls."
The Governor's small smile grew as her gaze switched to the Athosian, the thin
pale lips parting to show aged yellowed teeth.
"Yes," she said, "We do have a weapon. Or rather,"
she looked back at Sheppard, the smile disappearing, "We did."
Sheppard's face grew confused at her statement, then a hint of anger crossed
his face as he turned to glare at McKay. "What did you do!"
The scientist blinked at the sudden accusation, "What?" Behind
the desk, the Governor also seemed a little taken aback. Sheppard
sharpened his glare at the scientist.
"When you disrupted that power source, what did you do!"
"I didn't...You think I....Major, I couldn't...." McKay was
torn between confusion and indignation.
"Oh no," the Governor's hand was raised now, "you misunderstand
me, Major Sheppard. Nothing you have done has harmed any of the systems
in this city, though," and here she turned a speculative eye on McKay,
"did you really disrupt the illusion?" She looked beyond him to
a military colonel standing in the background, a tall man with faded blond
hair, "Is that why the alarm went off, Luphron?"
"Yes, ma'am," Colonel Luphron replied. "According to Lieutenant Che, they
somehow opened a window along the Bell perimeter from the outside."
"Really?" The Governor looked back at McKay, and there was something
akin to life in her eyes for the first time, "I just assumed that you set
the alarm off by passing through it. You actually opened a window without
using one of the control keys? How did you do that?"
"Oh, it wasn't hard, really," he shrugged, "I simply interfaced
with the machine controlling the--"
"Why doesn't your weapon work," Sheppard interrupted. McKay
sighed--he was used to being cut off by the major now--and the Governor turned
her gaze back to the military man. Her eyes drooped again--the spark that
had appeared at learning that McKay had opened a window faded.
"Well, it's not that it doesn't work," she said, "It's that we
can't use it."
"Why not?"
"It doesn't matter," she sighed. "Listen, major, I am
sorry, but I'm not sure we would be very useful allies to you. Truth is,
with our Weapon down, we can't even help ourselves at this point. If I
were you, I'd leave," she shrugged, "In fact, I think you should
leave as soon as possible."
Sheppard's eyes
narrowed, and he grimaced, shaking his head.
"Governor Borin, I know that you know nothing about us, but I
promise, we're not looking to cause you any problems here. We just—"
"Major,"
she interrupted harshly, "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough. We can not help you."
Teyla leaned
forward, a smile on her face, "Please, Governor, don't dismiss us so
easily. Surely, with the knowledge that
the Wraith are to come soon, you must understand that—"
"No, Miss
Emmagen, it is you who does not understand…." Standing up, the Governor
turned around to face a pair of thick wooden shutters behind her desk, her
hands gripping into fists as she continued.
"You have told us that the Wraith have awakened, and that they will
likely start culling soon. For this
reason, you come seeking allies and aid.
Well…," reaching forward, she took hold of the handles of the edges
of the shutters and threw them open, causing all four members of Sheppard's
team to flinch and blink as sunlight poured in through the large plate glass
window she revealed. She turned back to
them, her eyes flashing, "I'm afraid your information is a little too
late."
Outside, the gray
and black city of Deucalion spread out before them…smoldering and in
ruins.
Faint wisps of smoke
rose from a few structures still, but otherwise it was as quiet and still as a
grave.
"The Wraith
have already been here," Governor Borin said, her voice strained, turning
again to stare out at the destruction of the once proud city, "and they're
coming back--soon."
____________________________________________
CHAPTER
FOUR: KNOWLEDGE IS POWER
A few moments of
tense silence followed the revelation, with Teyla looking at Sheppard, McKay
bending his head into his hand to hide his eyes and Ford trying to remain
standoffish…without really succeeding.
The Governor kept her back to them for almost a full minute, staring
fixedly at the ashes of Deucalion, before finally lowering her eyes away from
the sight. With a sigh, she then shifted
them back to the four people now standing in front of her desk. The look of distress and pity on their faces
was not lost on her.
"What
happened," Teyla asked softly. The
older woman shrugged.
"We had no
warning, none at all," she leaned against the wall by the side of the
window, her head shaking slightly as she looked outside again. "The Wraith
were early, decades early. How could we
have known?" She paused, looking
back at them, then shrugged. Stepping
forward, she rested her hands on the back of her chair, her tone calmer now
that she was no longer looking out the window.
"You see,
normally, our people do not live here.
Deucalion is much too small for the size of our population to exist
comfortably for more than a short period of time, but it is usually enough time
to outlast a culling. So, again,
normally, we would only come here just before a Wraith cycle was about to
occur, because, until now, the Wraith have always been predictable. We take shelter inside Deucalion, inside its
many tunnels and bunkers below the real mesa's surface, tightly packed but
safer than we would be outside the city's walls—because of the Weapon. The ruined structures you see above ground
here were meant for brief occupation only—our people rotate, those brave enough
to risk being above ground during the culling and incapable of not seeing the
sun for too long—they live in them. Or
they would have."
"How many have
you lost?" Teyla asked quietly.
"Many. As soon as the first probes appeared, people
started moving as fast as they could to get here, but we were too spread
out. Worse, without the Weapon,
Deucalion is even more vulnerable than the outside world, because the illusion
is intended to attract the Wraith, like a pet shamra to bright light, and it
did exactly that. By the time the first
evacuees made it to the entrances, the Wraith ships had already come and were
inside." She turned again to the
window, staring once more to the devastation below.
"They came in
through the illusion's walls…and shot fire from their ships. Whether or not they remembered about the
Weapon, they obviously knew that this city was too advanced to be condoned, and
so simply tried to destroy everything they could see. To teach us a lesson, I suppose. The people unlucky enough to arrive here at
that time, or were trying to get in…died."
She shook her head. "The
Wraith left after seeing most of the city on fire, but they will be back--to
start the culling. All they need are the
right ships—the big ones—which I keep expecting to look up and see at any given
moment." Her eyes lifted to the
blue sky, "They know the Weapon will not work now, and they will take
advantage. People are still flocking
here from across our world, but they are only making it worse for themselves
and easier for the Wraith. They don't
understand the danger, and though I have tried over and over again to tell
them, I may as well be talking to the mesa itself." Her head lowered, her eyes shut. "The Wraith will come, whether it be
hours or days; they will come and they will take as many as they can."
"But,"
Sheppard sat back down, and the other three followed suit, "why doesn't
your weapon work? The illusion is
obviously working--why was the trap not sprung as soon as the Wraith
came?"
"The illusion
is constantly maintained," she replied, looking over at him before
shifting around and also settling herself back in her chair behind her
desk. "It requires no additional
work to make it function, and the machines generating it are buried deep within
the real mesa's walls where even we can't reach them. It is just always there. The Weapon, however, needs someone to trigger
and guide it, from the inside. There was
no one here to do so, when the Wraith came.
And now it is too late."
"You mean they
succeeded in destroying it?" Sheppard asked.
She frowned, and
then the strangest thing happened. Something seemed to spark behind her eyes,
and they suddenly shifted to McKay. He
flinched a little at her gaze.
"How did you
open that window?" she asked abruptly.
He frowned, "I
didn't." He pointed to the still
open window behind her, "You did."
"Not that
window," she waved a hand impatiently,
"I mean the one in the perimeter wall."
"Oh…the
window…you mean, in the illusion?"
"Yes. How did you do that?" Her stare was penetrating.
"Uh…"
McKay was honestly confused by the sudden change in topic, and he looked to
Sheppard for guidance.
"Why do you
care?" Sheppard asked the Governor, taking his cue from the doctor. "From what we saw, you can open windows
in the illusion as well."
Her gaze flicked
back to the major, her lips pressed in a grim line. She looked back at McKay, who's expression
was merely curious, then again at the major, who's expression was now one of
suspicion. Her eyes lifted up to her
colonel still standing in the background, but the man wouldn't meet her
eyes. The Governor gritted her teeth,
her jaw muscles flexing. Finally, she
sighed.
"Okay,"
she looked directly at Sheppard, "at this point, admitting the extent of
our helplessness to total strangers can't be any worse than what will happen
when the Wraith return." She lifted
her hand and indicated the room around her, "All of this," she began,
"was built by another race, long before my people ever came to this world. We were originally brought here by the Wraith
over half a millennia ago. Once here, we
discovered Deucalion by accident, and, from the pictographs written down in
what we call the hall of ages, figured out how to use the Weapon to defend
ourselves. Since that time, we have used
it to save ourselves from the Wraith on numerous occasions. Some have tried to learn how the machinery
controlling the illusion and the Weapon work, but we are simply not advanced
enough, and lack of access and fear of breaking it has curtailed our
efforts. For many, though, simply
knowing that they work was good enough.
Now, that reliance on their simply "always working" could
prove to be our downfall." She
looked at McKay, "Control panels allow us to open windows in the illusion,
but we have no idea how they really work.
You, however, have apparently managed to access the illusion without
one. How?"
McKay shrugged,
"Well, see, I can—"
"Hold on a
moment, doctor," Sheppard interrupted, cutting off McKay again as he focused
on the woman opposite him, "you haven't answered my question from before,
Governor. Why do you care?"
Her eyes narrowed as
she leaned forward on the desk again, and the spark was back in her eyes as she
answered: "Because, major, as you have obviously guessed, the Weapon was
not destroyed. At least," she
grimaced, "not as far as we know.
After the Wraith attacked, something we have never seen before happened. When we went to inspect the Weapon, to see if
it was even still there, we found some sort of…shield, I guess you call it…had
formed. The doorway is open, but
something that looks like liquid metal has blocked it. This shield radiates heat, and, when we tried
to go through it, it left burns and welts too severe to treat. I assume this shield may have protected it
from the Wraith's weaponry and, if they ever landed, the Wraith themselves, but
we do not know how to shut it down, nor do we know whether the Weapon did in
fact survive without harm." She
looked at McKay, "But perhaps, if you can open a window in our illusion,
you might find a way to lower the shield and discover if the Weapon is still
functional?"
McKay's eyebrows
rose, and he turned blue eyes to the major.
There was no mistaking his expression, especially when the hint of a smile
touched his lips. This sounded like a
challenge, and McKay loved challenges.
The scientist grinned smugly back at the Governor.
"I don't see
why not," he agreed readily.
"For someone of my abilities, I can't imagine—"
"McKay!"
Sheppard snapped, "Hold on there.
Nothing is decided yet."
The scientist
blinked at the order, obviously confused, and turned a questioning gaze to the
major. Sheppard also felt Teyla and
Ford's eyes on him, both also clearly bewildered by his negative reaction. Teyla, in particular, he could feel. He already knew what side she would argue,
and she was probably dying to voice it.
But, however up
front these people were being, for some reason, as soon as the Governor has
started in on McKay, warning bells had gone off in Sheppard's mind. It was nothing obvious, but something about
the Governor seemed…false to him all of a sudden. He cleared his throat.
"Look, before
McKay touches anything, how about letting us see this hall of ages you spoke
of? It might give us a better idea
of—"
"I can't. I'm
sorry," she said, shaking her head despondently, "like almost
everything else in this city, it was destroyed in the attack."
Sheppard's
expression tightened, breathing slowly out of his nose at the information. The sense of being lied to…or at least of not
being told the whole truth…was growing stronger. The Governor licked her lips, her hands
moving to press palm down on the top of the desk. The same unnerving stare that she had favored
McKay with earlier was now fixed on the major.
"Major
Sheppard, please. I will not force you
to help us, in part because I do not think our weapons could stand up to yours,
and in part because all that would really accomplish is more death. I don't want that. I only ask that you allow Doctor McKay to see
if he can find a way to fix the Weapon.
There are thousands of lives depending on it. Please."
The muscles jumped
in the Major's jaw.
"Please,"
she pressed, "do not condemn us if you can offer aid. Please."
"You do realize
that just moments ago, when we asked for aid, you were trying to get us to
leave," he noted slowly.
"Insisting that you couldn't help us. Now, however—"
"I am aware of
that, yes," she replied, blushing a little. "But that's the nature of a politician,
Major. We have to be changeable, to keep
up with the winds."
"You
mean," the major's eyes were still narrowed, "because now that it
looks like we can help you, you need us to stay."
She gave a small
smile in response, and nodded with a shrug, "Yes."
Sheppard's face
scrunched up, reacting both to her and to his own worries. But just seconds later, his face relaxed
again, and, with a sigh, he frowned at her.
"Okay." He turned to look at McKay, "Go
ahead. See if you can fix it, but be
careful." McKay grinned as Sheppard
looked past him to Ford, who was standing over the doctor, "I want you
with him at all times—don't let him out of your sight. He's your responsibility, understand?"
"Yes sir,"
Ford stood more at attention at the command, while the doctor tilted his head
up to look at the lieutenant. Neither
man quite understood the concern the major was showing, but, truth be told,
they both trusted Sheppard to know what he was doing.
The Governor
grinned, unable to stop herself as Sheppard turned his eyes back on her. "Thank you, major," she said. "You have returned hope to—"
"Not yet,
Governor." He stood up abruptly
then, and Teyla rose with him where she had been sitting to his right. McKay stayed seated, staring up at Sheppard. "I need to consult with my own people,
tell them what we've found here."
When the Governor opened her mouth to argue, he held up a hand. "You trusted us this far, ma'am, I ask
you keep doing so. I am giving you the
help of our best mind; people at home will want to know why."
She grimaced, then
nodded, "I understand. Will you
need to return to your ship in order to do so?"
"Yes. If you could show Teyla and I out of the
mesa, then after we reach the ship, I will send Teyla back here. When she returns, I would like you to tell
her absolutely everything you can about what the Wraith did here, including the
exact timing of the attack."
Teyla turned her
deep eyes to the Governor, who met them, and nodded. "All right, if you think it will
help."
"Knowledge is always
helpful, Governor Borin," Teyla replied, smiling again. "It can be as powerful as any weapon, if
used well."
The Governor tried
to match her smile, but it was weakly done.
"I will see that you are escorted down and out of Deucalion,"
she said, "and welcomed upon your return."
"Thank
you."
_____________________________________________
Half an hour later,
Major Sheppard and Teyla were once more in the thick forest, nearing the
cloaked Puddle Jumper. Both walked with
their hands on their weapons, alert for anything—the major because he was still
distrustful of the Governor, and Teyla because she was worried about the
possibility of the Wraith once more returning without warning.
"You
know," Sheppard was watching the trees for movement, in case they were
being followed, "we were teasing you with them earlier, but you almost
quoted one of our more famous idioms back there."
"Oh?" Teyla watched the trees on the other side.
"Knowledge is
power."
She smiled, nodding,
"Now that is an idiom I understand."
The she frowned a little, "Tell me, Major, why I understand in
general why you wish me to question Governor Borin about the Wraith's attack, I
feel there is more here than just a desire for, as your people put it, 'intel.'"
"Well, in
response to that, I have another idiom for you."
"All
right."
"Better safe
that sorry."
She smiled again,
"Ah."
"Perhaps it's
because Deucalion is designed to trap the unwary by using illusion," he
shrugged, "but I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something
more they weren't telling us. Something
else hidden that they didn't want us to know."
"I saw no
dishonesty in their dealings with us," Teyla replied. "The Governor in particular seemed very
forthright in her meeting with us."
"I know--that's
what worried me."
"I do not
understand."
"As she said
herself, Governor Borin is a politician, Teyla.
Telling the truth is not often in a politician's nature. Especially not at a time like this."
"A time like
this? But I would think a time like this
is when the truth is most needed."
"That is
because you are a different kind of leader, Teyla, and because, from what I can
tell, your people value honesty very highly.
I did not get that same sense from Governor Borin."
Teyla frowned. It was true—her people did not lie, or at
least, they did so rarely. Their lives
had been too difficult, leaving little occasion for lying. It was probably why she was always willing to
accept other people at their word. It
did not come as naturally to her as it did to Sheppard to doubt the intentions
of others.
"We have a
third saying," Sheppard said, "that may explain better what I
mean." He frowned, "Needs must
when the devil drives."
"The
devil?"
"Pretend I said
Wraith. It means, in essence, that
events can compel you to do things that you may not want to. The people here are desperate, and I don't
like that. They may not want to lie to
us, but if they feel it is the only way to save themselves, they may well do
so."
"And you think
they have?"
"I don't
know. I just don't think they told us
everything they know."
Teyla sighed.
"Look,"
the major smiled a little as the field came into view where the puddle jumper
was cloaked, "I know that you feel responsible for the situation these
people are in. We woke the Wraith, and
they came here before these people were prepared to face them, but there is
nothing we can do about that now. All we
can do is what we are doing. I just want
us to be careful, that's all. I need you
to keep your eyes open."
"I
understand," Teyla replied.
"Good. Now listen," Sheppard walked up to where
he instinctively knew the back hatch to be, and reached out a hand to touch the
side, "what I want you to do is to stay with the Governor as much as
possible. Ford can watch out for McKay
at the ground level, but I need you to watch out for the two of them from
above."
"I will do
so," she said. "And I will, as you say, keep my eyes open."
Sheppard gave her a
smile, then a nod.
"See you in a
bit," he said. "Probably back
within the hour. I already told Ford
that you're in charge while I'm briefing Weir."
She nodded in
acceptance and raised a hand as he disappeared into the invisible hatch,
vanishing from sight. Turning, she
headed back towards the hidden city, her ears picking up the now familiar drone
of the puddle jumper as it rose in the air and headed back to the stargate…and
back to Atlantis.
_______________________________________
CHAPTER
FIVE: LOWERING THE SHIELDS
His patience—what little
of it McKay actually possessed—was quickly wearing thin.
Soon after Teyla and
Sheppard had left, he and Ford had been taken to meet a group of self-described
scientists, who, Governor Borin explained, had been working together on
alternate plans of defense with the military.
Once he was introduced, he had listened politely to them for about three
seconds—which is really about the extent of McKay's version of polite—before
barraging them with, what he thought, were some very basic questions. Unfortunately, he soon discerned that they
were closer to Mary Shelley than Watson and Crick in terms of science, so,
after a few minutes, he stopped bothering asking anything at all. He just asked to be led to the Weapon.
He really hadn't
been surprised to find it was the same doorway off the central courtyard he'd
pointed out earlier. Glancing at
Lieutenant Ford's face next to him, he could see the often astute young man
wasn't either.
As the scientists
had all followed them out here, he tried tossing out a few more simple
questions, such as "is there a control panel somewhere near?" and
"why isn't there an actual metal door covering the entranceway, like the
others?" They hemmed and hawed, and
McKay sighed. Seemed all they knew was
that this was the entrance to the Weapon.
The force field glittering inside the doorway had formed during the
attack, and they could not find a way to shut it down. That was pretty much it.
"See," one
of the scientists was saying, "we think that the shield is probably made of
the same stuff as the illusion, just, not the same, maybe the opposite, see,
because—"
"Oh for God's
sake, stop, please, before you hurt yourself," McKay ran his hand down his
face in exasperation, then looked over at the lieutenant. "Ford?"
"Yeah?"
"Just keep them
out of my way."
Ford grimaced at his
rudeness, but nodded, "Right."
A pregnant silence
descended then, and, after a while, it started making Ford uneasy. Besides the scientists, there was a healthy
contingent of guards, and he didn't appreciate the strangely stoic demeanor
they had taken. Before, they'd been
nervous but still friendly; now they seemed detached. Many would not even meet his gaze, shifting
their eyes away when he tried to meet them.
His mind tried to
rationalize it—that they were concerned about McKay breaking their Weapon for
good—but his gut still had his hand holding on tightly to the butt of his
rifle.
Ford, as promised,
was staying as close to the doctor as he could.
He kept a wary eye on the small gathering as McKay set to work behind
him, using his scanner to detect a power nexus for the defensive shield. The scientist began with the glass panels on
the different sides of the door, ignoring the flawless illusion of forest on
the other side. When he found nothing
significant, he moved to the entranceway itself. With a frown, he noticed nothing along the
edge of the frame except grooves for a door that didn't seem to exist.
"Okay,"
the doctor muttered, stepping inside the open doorway and taking a few steps down
the dark hallway. The shield had formed
about three feet down and away from the actual entrance, and he found he could
get quite close to it without harm. It
was, however, generating quite a lot of heat, and sweat quickly began to
trickle down the sides of his face and down his back. After a few moments, he found it so intense
that he was shrugging off the heavy vest and jacket, until he was only wearing
the blue shirt, the arms pushed up to his elbows. The discarded clothing and gear were tossed
in Ford's general direction, who looked down at it and ignored it, not about to
become the man's butler as well as his babysitter.
McKay wiped his arm
across his sweating forehead, licking his lips to get rid of the moisture
collecting above his upper lip. Dark
stains formed down the front and back of his shirt, and, though he desperately
wanted to take that off as well, he just couldn't be that indecorous.
Passing the scanner
of every inch of wall, ceiling and floor, McKay was almost on top of the shield
when he suddenly grinned. "There
you are," he mumbled, looking up at the wall in front of him. The scanner had finally detected a spike in
power, and peering closely at the location, the scientist realized he could see
the edges of a panel. Oddly, it had been
painted over, but it was definitely there.
"Hunh," he grunted, "No wonder they couldn't find
you," he muttered, slipping the scanner back into his belt.
Ford had backed up a
little to stand protectively in front of the doorway, still facing outwards at
the guards and scientists. He listened
to each of McKay's mutterings behind him, then to the sound of the doctor
obviously kneeling down and rooting through his backpack of goodies. Risking one glance behind him, he was in time
to see McKay pull out the same black device and small keypad as earlier. Kicking the backpack over toward Ford to get
it out of his way, which Ford then nudged next to the jacket and vest, the
doctor then put the device down on the corridor floor and pulled his utility
knife from his belt. Ford focused his
attention on the gathering again.
Using his fingers,
McKay used the knife to define the edges of the panel. Soon after that, he was using it to pry the
panel from the wall.
Some of the
scientists moved closer, trying to see, but Ford stepped towards them, patting
his rifle and shaking his head. Behind
the scientists, the guards frowned, but otherwise didn't react.
"Ha," McKay chuckled, ripping back
the panel to show the a series of wires beneath. They looked fairly basic, a mixture of colors
and widths. A faint glowing light came
from inside, giving McKay more light.
After sticking the knife back in its sheaf on his belt, the doctor
placed his interface into the panel, attached the wires to the keypad, and
started working away, just as he had done before.
"What's he
doing?" one of the scientists asked Ford.
"Lowering the
shield," Ford answered curtly, confidently. For all that they all made fun of McKay, Ford
had come to believe the doctor could do anything he put his mind to. McKay would lower the shield, the Weapon
would be accessible for the people of Deucalion to use again, and all would be
hunky dory.
At least, he hoped
so.
______________________________________________________
Sheppard glided
towards the open wormhole he had just dialed, keying in his IDC as the Puddle
Jumper slowed to a hover just before the threshold.
"Atlantis, this
is Major Sheppard."
"Everything all
right, Major?" Weir's disembodied voice came back. "You're earlier than expected."
"There have
been developments, and I'd prefer to discuss them face to face."
"Okay,"
she replied. "Lower the
shield," she added, speaking to someone else. After a short pause, she spoke again. "The shield has been lowered,
major. Come on through."
______________________________________________________
"I think I've
got it," McKay called cheerfully at about the same time that, about thirty
miles away, the Major was sliding through a wormhole home. "It's not much different from the
program running the illusion, truth be told.
Same basic tenets, really. You
know, you folks really must learn to avoid painting over useful things like
control panels. I do hope there was no
lead…or lead like substance…in the paint I just scraped off here and probably
breathed in…." As he spoke, he
finished keying in a few more things into his program, the fingers of his right
hand lifting up from the small keypad with a totally unnecessary flourish. "There!"
Ford turned
sideways, wanting to see McKay lower the shield but still keep one eye on the
gathering.
"Ready?"
McKay asked everyone watching him. The scientists seemed frozen in place, but the
colonel who had been standing to one side up in Governor Borin's office nodded.
"Go ahead,
Doctor McKay." Colonel Luphron's
voice sounded strange to Ford, and the lieutenant found himself frowning as the
colonel added, "Lower it."
"Will do,"
McKay smiled, looking down at the keypad.
As his finger hit the enter key, he looked at the shimmering barrier
next to him.
As the gathering
watched, the defensive shield disappeared in a flash, revealing a pitch black
hallway behind it.
McKay's smile grew more
smug and he turned back to the impressed scientists, about to say something
more, when, suddenly, the entire hallway he stood in started to vibrate. McKay's expression fell, replaced by
bewilderment. Bracing himself against
one side of the shaking corridor, he found himself turning involuntarily to
look in the direction of the inky blackness he had revealed by the lowering of
the shield.
"Doctor!"
Ford shouted as a bright yellow light flickered in the same direction that
McKay seemed fixed on. "Get out
of—"
But he was too
late. The yellow light flared forward
without warning, instantly surrounding the scientist. At the same time, a steel door slammed down
to block the entrance from a hidden opening above, completely cutting the
corridor off from the courtyard.
Ford's mouth dropped
in horror. Around him, the scientists
all lowered their heads. The guards
remained cold.
"Doctor!"
Ford shouted, quickly moving to bang on the metal door with his fist,
"Doctor, open this door!" When
nothing answered him from the other side, the lieutenant hit his radio,
"Doctor, can you hear me? Doctor
McKay?" He tried to will down the
growing panic inside him, "Doctor McKay, respond!"
"Lieutenant?" Teyla's voice came
over the radio, having overheard the transmission. "What's
going on?"
Ford jumped, hearing
her voice in coming in stereo. His eyes
looked down at the doctor's things at his feet, seeing the radio still tucked
inside the vest McKay had shucked off.
Damn it!
"Teyla,"
Ford's eyes lifted and he backed away from the steel door, "I don't
know. Is the Major still with you? McKay's—"
"Inside the
Weapon," Colonel Luphron finished, the older man having drifted forward to
stand next to Ford.
"What? No!" Ford looked back at the door. Gritting his teeth, he pointed at the metal,
"Get him out of there!"
"I am afraid
that is impossible, son."
"Don't you
'son,' me. Get him OUT OF THERE."
"Even if we
knew how," the colonel said, his face still as cold as snow, "I would
not do so."
"I don't care
what you would or would not do. If you
won't help me get him out, then I'll go after him myself!"
"You
can’t. The Weapon will only allow one
person in at a time."
"How the hell
do you know? Have you ever tried?"
"Listen to me,
young man," the colonel pointed at the door, "he's inside the
Weapon. You just have to accept
that. The moment he lowered the shield
from inside the doorway, the Weapon sensed his presence and took him."
Ford's eyes widened,
and he found himself backing away from the colonel as realization dawned.
"You knew this
would happen," he hissed, "didn't you?"
The colonel
shrugged, "Yes."
"Why?"
"The one who
triggered the Weapon had to be your Doctor McKay. We knew that if he lowered the shield, that
he would also likely be the only one who could fix the Weapon if it has indeed
been damaged. Thanks to him, we have a
chance against the Wraith now. I will
not risk the people of this City just to get him out of there, not when doing
so could risk the Weapon as well."
"Lieutenant?" Teyla's voice seemed a little more
breathless, as if she were running, "Lieutenant,
I am almost back to the mesa. Major
Sheppard has already passed through the Stargate, but he should be back in
about forty five minutes. What has happened? Where is Doctor McKay?"
Ford tapped the
radio, his eyes still glued on the colonel, "Telya—"
"He is
alive," the colonel noted calmly, "If that helps."
In response, the
lieutenant took in a deep breath, not hiding the fury he felt. Finally, he lifted his P90 up, the submachine
gun pointed directly at the colonel's chest.
"One way or another, you are going to tell me how to get him out of
there. Now."
"Lieutenant!" Teyla's voice rang
with startling clarity over the radio, "What is going on!"
The colonel lifted
his eyebrows, looking down at the gun barrel, then back at Ford. The lieutenant didn't lower it, instead he
tapped the radio.
"I don't
know," Ford answered Teyla's question, his voice tight with tension,
"but we're going to find out."
___________________________________
CHAPTER
SIX: INSIDE AND OUT
Sheppard worked out
a crick in his neck, watching as Dr. Weir paced the room. Her jaw was clenched tightly, something which
Sheppard didn't find too surprising after what he'd just told her. Finally, she stopped moving, sighing
slightly.
"Frankly,
Major, I don't understand."
Sheppard shrugged,
"What's not to understand?"
"If you were so
sure they were lying to you," she explained, leaning over the table and
squinting at him, "then why did you leave Teyla, Lieutenant Ford and
Doctor McKay there? You know what McKay
is like with new technology—he's worse than the proverbial fox in a
henhouse."
Sheppard grinned,
he'd have to remember to use that one next time he saw Teyla. "Meaning?"
"Meaning he's
not going to wait for you to return before tackling this so-called shield. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't
already disposed of it."
Sheppard's eyes
narrowed a little, "Really? You
think he's that good?"
"Major…."
"Right, yes,
well, look," Sheppard titled his head at her, "so what? I didn't tell him not to try. And if he has gotten rid of it, great for the
folks of Deucalion. And good for us,
because then we should be able to strike a deal with them to let us study
it," his eyebrows waggled, "maybe even find a way to copy it for our
own benefit. If McKay can figure out how
it works—"
"But
Major!" Weir was standing up
straight, her hands clenched, "You just got through telling me they
couldn't be trusted! And now you want to
be friends with them?"
Sheppard grimaced,
then he shrugged, "Well, I've been thinking it over, and it's possible I
may have been over thinking things. I
mean, sure, the governor's a politician, but so are you, and I don't hold that
against you anymore."
Weir blinked, and a
crooked smile creased her face. "Thanks," she mocked, "I
think."
"Don't mention
it."
"Look,
Major—"
"Doc, there is
another reason."
Her lips pinched
together, then she nodded, "You think we should try to help if we can."
"Yes."
"Because it's
our fault they were attacked without warning."
"Yes."
"Even though
you don't trust them."
The major opened his
mouth once more to say "yes," but the word died in his throat. He just couldn't ignore his instincts, and
Weir knew it. Finally he sighed, shaking
his head.
"I don't
know. Something felt wrong, but I was
the only one who thought so, and they were in some serious trouble. McKay can probably help, and who are we
really to deny them that?"
She watched him a moment
longer until, finally, a genuine smile graced her face. "Okay," she said softly,
"Thing is, Major, I tend to think your instincts are usually right, and
it's very likely that you have good reason not to trust these people, even if
it's nothing obvious. So, here's how
we're going to play this. You're going
back there, but not alone. Take another
team with you, one which can stay by the gate and be in radio contact in case
something does happen in Deucalion. In
the meantime, you join back up with your team and let McKay work. However, if he hasn't made any progress or
thinks that he can make progress by the time it gets dark on that planet,"
she looked down at her watch, "assuming that's about eight hours from now,
then I want you to bring them all back here.
I'll take care of McKay if he complains."
Sheppard smiled,
"Oh, he'll complain." He
winced, "In fact, I can hear him already."
Weir smiled more
broadly, "Like I said, I'll handle it." She looked down at her watch again, "By
the way, if you meant what you said to Teyla about returning within the hour,
you'd best leave now." She looked
up, "I just hope nothing has happened since you've been gone."
"Oh come
on," Sheppard laughed, standing up, "it's only been an hour. What could happen in an hour?"
_____________________________________________
Ford and Teyla
strode down the hall to the Governor's office in perfect step with each other,
their expressions identical—they were both furious. A still stoic Colonel Luphron led the way,
and several other guards walked with them.
Ford was hefting McKay's backpack, because the Deucalion scientists had
all been eyeing it greedily—like vultures—and he wasn't about to let those
people touch the doctor's thing. Both
Atlanteans also still held on to their weapons, as Ford was very clear in his
determination not to give them up, and, again, the people of Deucalion had
backed down. Ford had a strong suspicion
that these people were, at their core, basically cowards.
The Colonel stopped
at the doors, raising a fist to knock, but Ford swept past him and shoved the
doors open.
Governor Borin
sprang to her feet, and a young woman with her who looked to be holding plans
in her arms, jumped back from the edge of the desk as if she'd been
bitten. Their eyes focused on Teyla and
Ford as they pushed their way in and stood directly in front of the Governor's
desk.
"Why did you do
this?" Teyla spat, resting her hands on the edge of the table and leaning
forward. "You know perfectly well
that, had he been told what standing inside that corridor would mean, Doctor
McKay would have simply stepped out. He
did not need to be in there—he could have easily found a way to trigger the
lowering of the shield from outside."
A shuddering breath
emerged from the Governor's throat, and she nodded. "Of course, you are correct, and I am
sorry. However, we had good reason for
not telling him. We needed him to be
inside the Weapon, to repair it, if it's been damaged. He is the only one who can."
"Then you
should have asked! You should have told
us what would happen, and what it would mean.
How do you know he would not volunteer to do just that?"
"I
didn't," she shook her head, "but I couldn't take that
risk." She drew herself up, "I
am sorry, but I have my entire people to think about, Miss Emmagen. One man's rights, particularly an alien's
rights, seemed less important. Surely
you can understand that."
"No,"
Teyla shook her head, standing up off of the desk and crossing her arms,
"I can not. You had no right to
choose for him, or us, no matter who we are or what the reason."
"Besides,"
Ford added, his hand still curled tightly around his weapon, "how do you
know he'll play along? McKay may be
inside your Weapon, but that doesn't mean he'll fix it for you. Hell, he's probably just trying to find a way
out or a way to contact us right now."
The Governor's eyes
grew colder as she turned to face the young man, "Because, lieutenant, if
he does want to leave, he will have to fix the Weapon to do so. Otherwise there is no way out."
_______________________________________________
CHAPTER
SEVEN: DOCTOR "GET-ME-THE-HELL-OUT-OF-HERE" MCKAY
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…."
The soft white noise
surrounding him was steady…and annoying.
It intruded through his ears and into his brain, focusing itself on a
spot just behind his right eyebrow until the dull throbbing sensation it
created became too strong to ignore and finally woke him up.
"Oh for the
love of…."
Rodney lifted his
arm and draped it over his closed eyes, wondering if the fact that his entire
body felt strangely heavy meant anything.
As he woke further, though, the strange heaviness resolved itself into a
dull ache, and, he realized dimly, he hurt.
Not a stinging, knife wound kind of hurt, but more the constant
imprecise pain one often felt when they were sick or had overexerted
themselves. Like the body had given up,
too tired to move, too beleaguered to care.
He frowned, still
not lifting the arm off of his face.
He didn't remember
being sick. Last thing he remembered
was….
Yellow light?
Like fireworks,
flashes of memory burst inside his head, intensifying the headache. He remembered a force field, and he
remembered trying to dismantle it. He
remembered talking to Ford, standing nearby.
He remembered Sheppard telling Ford to stick with him…and he remembered
Sheppard talking to an older woman…the governor…Deucalion…about the
Weapon…about the Wraith…..
And then the yellow
light. The corridor shaking. Ford shouting to him….something grabbing hold
of him….Had it been Ford?
"Not to sound
trite," he whispered to the world, "but what the hell hit
me?"
He paused, waiting
for a response. When none came, he
finally lifted the arm.
"Ford?" The eyes blinked open to a fuzzy but brightly
lit world, "Lieutenant? Are you
there?" With a grunt, he pushed up
on one elbow, pinching his eyes shut again and rubbing them once with his free
hand, before opening them again. This
time, he could see clearly.
He instantly sat up
the rest of the way with a sharp intake of breath. Pale blue eyes widened as his jaw dropped,
taking in the room he was in without really understanding it.
"Oh God,"
he hissed, finding himself in a room so white that it was nearly blinding. "Hello?" he called, then, twisting
to see more of the room, louder, "Hello!
Anyone there? Lieutenant?
Lieutenant!"
Only the humming
answered him. He could hear his heart
racing inside his ears as his fear kicked into full gear, his breathing on the
verge of hyperventilation.
"Okay,
okay," he said to himself, "okay, you can handle this. Calm down, calm down." He managed to shut his mouth, focusing on
breathing through his nose to force himself to relax as he'd been taught. When he felt a little better, he levered
himself up off the white floor and stood up, crossing his arms tightly over his
chest as he turned in a small circle.
The ache was leaving his body, but the headache persisted.
Finally really
seeing the room he was in, the most absurd though crossed his mind, and he
smiled, unable to stop himself.
"It's the fifth
doctor's tardis," he chuckled, a hint of hysteria in the sound.
"Someone's imitating the BBC's set design—that's got to be a copyright
infringement." He shook his head
and continued to smile, running a still shaky hand through his short hair
before crossing his arms again. Truth be
told, the absurd thought had gone a long way to calming him down, but the frown
was soon back as he realized there was no visible doorway anywhere.
The room was white,
pure white, and hexagonal in shape. It
looked to be about the size of a good sized board room, complete with a white
console in the center and a fairly impressive glass wall splitting the console
in half and separating one half of the room from another.
No, he realized as
he saw his reflection, not glass. A
mirror. It literally stretched from wall
to wall, interrupted only by the console sticking out of the center of it.
Unlatching his
crossed arms, he tentatively took a few steps towards the console, eyeing the
completely smooth surface—like white glass.
Nothing about it gave any indication of what it did—for all he knew, it
was just a table. Like the rest of the
room, it was hexagonal, although, he realized, he was actually only seeing half
of it. So, it was only hexagonal if, of
course, the room on the other side of the mirror…if there was a room…was
identical to this one. If not, then it
was just a trapezoid.
Aw hell, he
realized, mentally slapping himself, who cares what the shape is! How the hell do I get out of here?
Turning, he looked
more carefully at the walls, looking for a doorway or a window, for some sort
of way out. Large circular indentations
of an off white color were placed in an even pattern over the three main walls,
which was partly why Doctor Who had come to mind, and he reached into one to
see what they were made of. They were
about a handswidth in depth, but, other than being slightly warmer than the
walls themselves, which looked to be marble or also some sort of colored glass,
they appeared to hold no secrets.
Nevertheless, he
checked all three main walls, remembering that Deucalion was a city based on
illusion. Unfortunately he soon learned
the walls were as real as he was. He hit
one with his fist in frustration, and turned around.
Sighing in
acceptance, he headed over to the console in the mirrored wall with a
grimace. His fingers played over the
smooth surface, looking for buttons or invisible sensors that might trigger
something. Surely it wasn't just a
decorative counter—it had to be hiding something.
As he reached the
central section of the console, he saw a red light flash beneath the white
surface. Frowning, he passed his hand
over it. It flashed red again.
"Hm," he
frowned, "wonder what red means here?
Stop? Go? Caution?" He snorted, "You've just
leveled Detroit?"
His lips twitched
into a weak smile at that as he continued to pass his hand over the
console. As he did, more lights appeared
to flash beneath its surface, but none that remained steady, as if they
couldn't maintain their power. Nothing
about this was familiar, and nothing about it made sense. Still, there was obviously a pattern and he
just had to….Damn his head hurt.
"This is
pointless," he groused, pressing a hand to his aching forehead and looking
up at himself in the mirror in front of him.
He frowned at the reflection, trying to figure out what looked wrong.
Realization hit with
a hammer. "Oh Crap!" he
shouted, his hand slapping at his blue shirt where the radio should be on his
shoulder.
He didn't have his
backpack! Or his vest, or even his jacket!
All he had on him was the utility belt and the 9MM strapped to his
thigh. In other words, all the tools he
had was a knife, his scanner and a whole lot of nothing. Hell and damnation! His right hand rested on the 9MM—fat lot of
good that would do here.
"Oh this just
sucks!" he shouted furiously, slamming a hand down on the console. Had he been looking down, he would have seen
a brown light brighten and hold steady under his hand. He looked up at the white ceiling, sloping up
away from him like the roof of a conservatory, anger taking over from fear,
"What the hell is this! Where am
I!"
"Hello."
He nearly jumped a
mile, spinning around, his eyes searching the walls. His breathing was rapid again, and his heart
felt like a jackhammer in his chest. He
hadn't even noticed that the 9MM was now in his hands, thumb depressing the
safety, until he felt the latch click.
"Who said
that!" he yelled, searching the small room for the source of the voice,
trying to pinpoint its origin. The voice
was that of a man's, very evenly pitched, and unrecognizable. "I repeat,"
he shouted, "who said that! Answer
me!"
In response,
something seemed to move out of the corner of his eye, and McKay looked to his
right, gun already pointing in that direction.
As he watched, the light shifted and shimmered, forming a figure out of
thin air. It was a man, about McKay's
height, with wavy brown hair, brown eyes and wearing…brown. The figure nodded
to him and smiled pleasantly.
"Hello. You are most welcome, friend and hero."
"Friend and
hero?" He didn't lower the gun, but
his hands no longer shook. Part of him
was surprised he could be so calm in the face of this apparition—it was
obviously a hologram, but, for a moment, the doctor's irrational side had
screamed "ghost!"
"Most
definitely," the hologram nodded, still smiling beatifically. "What is your name, sir?"
McKay's defensive mechanism
kicked in. "My name is 'get me the hell out of here,'" he spat,
adding nastily, "Why, what's
yours? And if it isn't, 'the exit's over
there,' I don't want to know!"
There was a pause,
then, quietly, the hologram responded, "That is not a real name."
"Wow, nothing
gets by your programming, does it? Look, what is this? Why do you want to know? Why are you even here?"
The smile remained
fixed on the face, "To help make your stay more pleasant, of course. I am here to serve you, sir, to answer your
questions and prepare you for what is to come.
It would help if I knew your name."
The doctor grimaced,
finally lowering the 9MM and returning it to its holster. The bullets would just go straight through
anyway. He swallowed and crossed his
arms.
"Prepare me for
what's to come, eh? Fine. Rodney…McKay…Doctor Rodney McKay…." He
tripped over his name, not even sure why he felt the need to add that he was a
doctor. Habit, mostly. "You're here
to answer my questions?"
"Yes."
"Okay
then—where the hell am I?"
The hologram's face
showed confusion for a moment, then brightened, "In the white room."
McKay's eyes closed
for a brief second, then opened again.
"No," he smiled thinly, "I meant, where is the white room? Where is this place located?"
"Near the
Central Courtyard."
"That still
doesn't help me," McKay sighed, wiping a hand over his face. "Let's
try again. What is this place?"
The hologram stared
at him for a moment longer, then frowned.
"Don't you know?"
"If I
did," the doctor snarled, "would I be asking?"
The hologram looked
down, then up again. The smile was
gone. "My apologies, Doctor Rodney
McKay, I did not understand. You are
inside the Weapon."
McKay's breath
caught for a second, then released. Of
course. He'd already guessed that, but
just hadn't wanted to believe it.
"The
Weapon," he repeated softly, "With a capital 'W', right?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's
just great," he exhaled heavily.
"How did I get here?"
Another pause, then,
"That is not a logical question."
McKay made a face,
then snorted. "Seems logical to me.
I don't know how I got here. You
must know. So tell me."
"When you
stepped through the doorway, your presence was detected, and you were brought
here."
Again, McKay closed
his eyes. Those Deucalion bastards. They had to have known. Sheppard was right—the governor had lied to
them.
"Okay,"
blue eyes opened again, "Then how do I get out of here?"
The hologram really
frowned this time, "What?"
"How do I get
out? Where's the exit?"
The hologram
continued to look confused, until, finally, it shook his head. "There is no way out."
McKay straightened,
his arms slipping to his sides, "What?"
"Do you not
understand where you are? You are in the
Weapon."
"Sure. So?"
"So, Doctor
Rodney McKay, surely you know--you are here to give up your life in order to
save Deucalion."
The doctor fell back
against the console, his hands gripping the edge of the smooth glass.
"I'm here to
what?" he squeaked.
_________________________________________
CHAPTER
EIGHT: DUAL PURPOSES
"Is there no
way to contact him?" Teyla asked.
Governor Borin shook her head.
"I'm afraid
not. Once inside the Weapon, there is no
communication with the outside world until it's time to fire the Weapon. Doctor McKay is effectively cut off—we can't
even see him in there, and he can't see us."
"But that
doesn't make sense," Ford said, standing now closer to the door, his back
nearer to the wall. "If he can't
see out, how is he supposed to, as you put it before, guide the weapon?"
She shook her head,
"I don't know."
"You don't
know? How can you not know how your own
Weapon works?"
She grimaced, then
looked to Colonel Luphron standing nearby.
The military man stood a little straighter, turning to face Ford.
"While we do
not understand exactly how the Weapon works," the older man stated calmly,
"We do know what it does." The
man's dark eyes swiveled to the Governor, and the politician nodded back at him,
allowing him to explain. He gave her the
slightest of bows before turning back to Ford. "There is another room off
of the hall of ages, one we call the Great Eye.
Inside, a person can see in all directions at once, as far as the ring
of fire, as high as the stars, and in all directions at once. In the room's center, it contains a small
control panel, on which are six yellow buttons and communication device. When the Wraith ships appear, the people in
the Great Eye can see them come and prepare the one in the Weapon to fire, telling
him or her what to expect. When enough
Wraith ships enter the illusion, the person in the Great Eye depresses one of
the buttons, indicating the Weapon to fire."
"It only fires
six times at any given time," Governor Borin added. "After that it must reset, so each shot
must count for as much as possible."
"Reset?" Ford frowned, "What does that
mean?"
"That the
person currently guiding the Weapon from the inside," she smiled, "is
released…and a new person must enter. It
is very draining, controlling the Weapon, and a single person can not
effectively contain its power after six shots." She shrugged slightly as
she finished.
"You say it is
draining," Teyla's eyes were narrowed, "How draining? Is it harmful?"
"Oh no, just
exhausting," the politician smiled softly.
"I would compare it to running a long race, or completing a long,
stressful day in the fields."
"So, what you
are saying is…."
"That, if your
Doctor McKay can fix the Weapon, should it be broken, he will also have the honor
of being its guide when the Wraith return.
Once the weapon has been fired six times, his work will be done, and you
can all go home." Her smile was
steady throughout. Teyla searched her
eyes, but she still could not see any deception.
"Can we see
this control room?" Ford asked sharply.
"I…don't
know," the governor admitted.
"It too was protected by the force field that Doctor McKay has now
lowered, but the hall outside was, as I mentioned, reduced to rubble. My people are trying to gain access to it
now."
"I bet,"
Ford sneered. "Take us there."
"But…."
"No arguments,
governor, take us there now."
She grimaced, her
eyes alighting on Colonel Luphron. He
frowned, then gave a small nod and disappeared out of the room. The Governor stood.
"Okay. Give me a minute to settle a few items, and I
will take you there myself."
_______________________________________
The hologram took a
step forward, and, though he knew it was merely a projection, Rodney
backpedaled away from it, gripping the edge of the console and putting the
corner of it in front of him.
"Stay
back," he hissed, holding up a hand at the projection. The hologram frowned, but nodded and returned
to where it had stood before.
"So," the
doctor ground the word out, "what you're telling me is, that the people
who come in here, they fire the weapon six times, and die doing it? Is that it?"
Silence greeted him.
"Is that
it?" he repeated, the words even sharper than before.
"No."
"No?"
"The people in the
Great Eye fire the Weapon. You merely
guide it."
"Why doesn't
the person in here fire it?"
"Because the
Weapon is connected to the walls of the Illusion, and can not see beyond
it. The people in the Great Eye, on the
other hand, have the means see beyond the edge of the Plateau, to the Ring of
Fire and beyond. They have the clarity
of vision to know when the Weapon will be its most effective, aware that it can
only fire six times before needing to be reset."
"Okay, so, they
fire it. But the person in here guides
it somehow…and dies."
"Eventually…yes."
"Why does it
kill the person in here? And why six?"
"The toll
guiding the weapon takes on the chosen one is great. They do not survive more than six shots—the
exertion is too much. In fact, to survive
even that many, the chosen one must be very fit. Only the most healthy—"
"Why does a
person have to guide it at all? Why
doesn't someone just aim it from elsewhere?
From this Great Eye place, for example?"
The hologram paused
for a moment, and its eyes drifted to McKay's right hip. "The power of the Weapon is different
from that which you have strapped to your thigh…that is a weapon, is it
not?"
The doctor nodded,
looking down at the 9MM, "It's a gun, yes."
"It shoots
projectiles of some kind? Darts, bullets, shot…."
"Bullets."
"Well, what if
your bullets were aware of their purpose?
What would they want to do?"
Rodney frowned. "Are you saying—"
"The Weapon's
power is a force that needs to be controlled, Doctor Rodney McKay. It is aware of what it is and that its sole
purpose is to destroy. Left to itself,
with no force of mind to control it, it would seek to level this entire city,
maybe more. Moreover, the fallout from
that sort of uncontrolled explosion would make many sick for miles
around."
"Fallout?" Something went cold inside McKay. Images of mushroom clouds entered his head.
"Millennia ago,
my people traveled here, seeking weapons against the Wraith. We found an untapped, unspoiled source of
energy deep beneath the surface of this mesa, and, with work, we learned to
harness it. What we did not understand
at the time, however, was that the energy we found had awareness. It became
its use. For the Illusion, the energy we
diverted to that purpose learned to flex and grow to maintain a stable
cloak. It rarely looks the same from
month to month, always with a purpose to deceive the one looking at it. From below, it might look like an impenetrable
wall, from above, merely another hill, from another angle, it might look like a
monolith…."
"Or even a
butte," Rodney muttered quietly, Ford's earnest face coming to mind. Were they even looking for him out
there? The hologram ignored his
insertion, continuing with its explanation.
"…and the
Illusion's control over itself became far superior to any safeguards we could
place on it. But, it didn't matter,
because there was no harm to it. It can
stay that way forever, for all we cared. The Weapon, on the other hand…."
"I get
it," Rodney sighed, lowering his head.
The hologram
nodded. "We discovered that, if we
used our own minds to guide it, it would follow our direction. And that aspect has become so much a part of
the Weapon's consciousness that now it will not work without a human mind to
guide it. In essence, a symbiotic
relationship has been created."
"Symbiotic?"
McKay laughed coldly, "It kills the person. How exactly is that symbiotic?"
"Because the
person who volunteers to enter here works together with the Weapon to save the
City. That person knows what he or she
does is for the greater good—it's what they most want. That is why he or she enters the doorway and
triggers the Weapon…as you have done.
And the Weapon works with that person—it's not the Weapon's fault that
it's stronger than the one guiding it."
Rodney stared at the
hologram, taking this in with a strangely calm air. Any smart hologram would have recognized he
was reaching his breaking point.
"And there is
no other way to get it to work?" the doctor asked finally.
"No."
Rodney crossed his
arms, "Well, I'm not doing it, you hear me? I'm not just going to…to connect myself up to
this thing and let it kill me!"
"But—"
"But
nothing. The people in this city can
kill themselves for all I care, but you and they are not going to kill me! Understand?"
He turned away from
the hologram, his anger so powerful he was shaking.
"No, I do
not."
"I'm not one of
your precious volunteers, hologram! I'm
not here by choice and I sure as hell am not sticking around to be murdered by
your Weapon."
The hologram
blinked, "I still don't understand.
You entered the doorway…."
"Oh
for…look," McKay stood up straighter, facing him again, "hasn't
anyone ever changed their mind? Once
they are in here, and realize that they're committing suicide, don't some ask
to leave?"
"They have
volunteered to save the city and its people—they have already accepted what
that means, the sacrifice—."
"Yes, yes, I
get that," Rodney sighed, waving a hand in the air. "What I mean is, when they are actually
faced with, well, certain death," he shuddered slightly, "surely some
must not want to go through with it."
The hologram
frowned, obviously thinking about this.
Finally, it nodded, "Yes, it happens," it admitted. "But
I'm here to remind them why they volunteered in the first place. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, of lives
depend on the Weapon and what it can achieve.
Without a guide, it can not be fired, and if the Weapon is not fired,
then the enemy will win and all those lives will be lost, taken by the Wraith
to die the most horrible death imaginable.
The sacrifice is noble—the greatest any one man or woman can ever hope
for. And when it comes down to the line,
they always make the right decision to finish what they started."
Rodney grimaced, his
arms crossed over his chest again.
"Wow," he sneered, "you're a real dual purpose monster,
aren't you?"
"What?"
"You are not
only here to tell people there is not way out," the doctor's eyes
narrowed, "but to actually make sure the so-called volunteers don't
chicken out. Tell me, what happens if
words don't work? Does it matter? Is being here enough?"
"Such an event
has never happened."
"Bull."
"I'm
sorry?"
"It means I
think you're lying."
"No, I never
lie, Doctor Rodney McKay. It has never
happened. They always sit in the chair
and—."
"Chair?"
Rodney frowned, his quick mind grasping the new word, "What chair?"
The hologram blinked
some more.
Rodney released his
arms, "There's no chair here. Where
is it?"
"In the other
room of course."
"Other room?!
What other room?"
The hologram pointed
to the mirrored wall to the left of the console, "Through there. The Black Room."
The doctor looked at
the mirror, then back at the hologram.
It continued to point towards the mirror.
"There's a door
there? All I see is a mirror."
The hologram frowned
and turned, and his head tilted, as if seeing the mirror for the first
time. Puzzlement appeared on its face as
it walked up to the wall and stared at its reflection.
"This shouldn't
be like this," it said quietly. "Something is wrong. There must be damage." As it spoke, it passed through the mirror…and
a doorway appeared where the hologram had disappeared, leading to a dark room
on the other side.
Slowly, tentatively,
McKay stepped around the console to the heretofore invisible doorway and peeked
through. He saw the hologram standing in
the middle of a room the mirror image of this one, except that the room was
black instead of white and there was a large reclining metal chair in the
middle facing a black console.
"Oh," he
grunted, "that chair." Taking
a deep breath…he stepped through the doorway.
______________________________________________
CHAPTER
NINE: TRYING NOT TO BREAK EGGS
Two Puddle Jumpers glided
through the wormhole and landed on the far side of the DHD. As John mentally shut his down, aware the
other was doing the same, the open wormhole closed in the background, cutting
them off once more from Atlantis.
"Okay," he
said, standing up and turning around to look at the troops he'd brought with
him. Stackhouse sat next to the
controls, while Tanner and Greene watched from the back, the two marines
looking deadly even when they were sitting still. He nodded at them before mentally switching on
the craft's ship-to-ship receiver.
"Jumper 2--Dunne, Saunders, Weathers--you copy?""
"Yes sir," Dunne's young voice
replied, "Go ahead."
"I want you to
watch the gate for incoming Wraith or anything else that might appear, and be
ready to dial the gate at a moment's notice, understand?"
"Yes sir."
"And do not
engage any enemies unless forced to or at my command."
"Yes sir."
"And, until
something like that happens, radio silence, clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay
then." Reaching over, Sheppard physically hit the pad this time to turn
off the communicator before sitting back down and powering the puddle jumper up
again. Next to them, the second puddle
jumper lifted and shifted to land just behind the gate, cloaking itself as it
did so.
Sheppard lifted his
own jumper up into the air, turning on the cloak as he did so. As soon as the ship's course was set, he
activated the walkie talkie on his shoulder, his eyes scanning both ground and
air for anything that shouldn't be there.
"Teyla, Ford,
McKay," he called, "This is Sheppard.
Come in."
"Major," Teyla's voice replied,
"This is Teyla. It is good you are back. We need your help."
Sheppard
grimaced—that didn't sound good. "What's the matter?"
"I am with Lieutenant Ford, Major. Doctor McKay…." There was a pause.
Sheppard frowned,
"Doctor McKay what? Isn't he also
with you? Ford, I told you to watch
him."
"I tried sir," Ford replied now, his
voice colored with guilt even over the airways.
"But these people lied to us."
Sheppard felt his
chest go cold, and he frowned.
"Explain."
"McKay lowered that shield, sir, but he was
standing just inside the doorway when he did so. According to these people, his presence
inside triggered the Weapon…and it took him."
"Took him? What do you mean took him?"
"I mean took him, sir. He's inside the Weapon and the Deucalions
insist there is no way to reach him. But
here's the thing, sir. McKay didn't have
to be inside the doorway to lower the shield.
Had he known, he could have stepped outside. They didn't tell us it would happen. They didn't tell us, because they wanted it
to happen." There was no
mistaking the anger in the young man's tone now, and Sheppard took a deep
breath.
"Damn it. Can you get him out?"
"No sir.
They insist that only Doctor McKay can get himself out of there."
"Then why
hasn't he done so?"
"They think there's something wrong with the
Weapon. He'll have to fix it first. Then he will be able to get out."
"Well,"
Sheppard recognized the field in the distance and headed the ship towards it,
"Isn't that convenient for them."
"I believe that was their purpose in lying to
us sir."
"Fabulous,"
the major deadpanned. "All right, I'll be there soon, Lieutenant. Sheppard out."
The Puddle Jumper
slowed as the major maneuvered it down, to land softly on the already flattened
green grass. Sheppard immediately set
about moving to shut it down. Turning,
he found the three soldiers watching him, waiting for their orders.
"All
right," he said, "At this point, I now trust these people about as
far as I can throw them, meaning I'm taking at least two of you with me. But," he lifted a finger, "I don't
want them to know you're there. You'll
sneak in after me, and follow us at a discreet distance." He frowned, "Of course, this would be
easier if we had some sort of tracking de…" he stopped talking as a
heretofore invisible drawer opened near his chair. Raising his eyebrows, he reached in and
lifted out a small button…and a scanning device.
"Oh," he
said, and gave a tiny smile. Pressing
the butting to the underside of his jacket, he handed the scanner to
Tanner. "Looks like you can track
me with that."
"Neat,"
Tanner smiled, his Texas drawl informing the major, "Should be easy
trackin'." Sheppard returned the
look with a crooked smile before looking over at Stackhouse.
"You're staying
here, in case we need to get picked up, fast, or need some extra fire
power. Radio silence goes for you as
well. Tanner, Greene," he tilted
his head to the door, "Let's go."
_______________________________
Ford kept his focus
forward as they walked through the concrete halls of Deucalion, while Teyla
continued to glare at the Governor.
Borin, for her part, was doing an admirable job of ignoring the
unblinking stare of the Athosian as people constantly ran up to ask her or
Colonel Luphron questions or to get their opinions on things, trying to prepare
for the invasion they knew was coming.
The older woman forced them to stop several times on their way to the
Great Eye in order to okay plans, agree to weapons positions (Ford perked up
when he heard someone mention the word "cannons" but it was too
fleeting to latch onto), and generally coordinate the several different sectors
of the increasingly obvious small Deucalion military.
At one point, Ford
made a comment that it didn't sound like they'd had to coordinate a defense
before. The Governor had made a
disgusted noise.
"Of course we
haven't. We've always had the Weapon
before."
"And you think
you won't again?" Ford asked cheekily.
"Why? Because you don't
think McKay will play along?"
The older woman's
sharp eyes met his, and she frowned.
"Well, let's just say that I've learned relying too much on one
thing can be dangerous."
Ford pursed his
lips, and nodded. "There is a
saying we have," he said, "don't put all your eggs in one
basket."
"Because one
fall could break them all," Teyla breathed. She looked across at Ford,
"I get that one."
Ford gave her a
small smile. The Governor, meanwhile, was
rubbing her forehead, shaking her head.
"What a
mess," she muttered.
Teyla looked at her
again, and some of the glare left her eyes—the Governor's current expression,
at least, she knew well. She'd worn it enough times herself. She sighed.
"You are doing
your best," she admitted.
The Governor looked
up, a little surprised, then nodded.
"I know. But it's not
enough, is it? I feel like I'm making
mistakes…but I can't see them."
"The mistakes
you make now, I do not see. But that
does not mean," and Teyla's eyes hardened again, "that you have not
made at least one, a big one."
The Governor's
expression stilled, then frowned. She
looked up at the ceiling as if for answers as she spoke again, "Miss
Emmagen, I know you think I've—"
"We're
here," Colonel Luphron intoned, arriving at a stop in front of yet another
steel door along a long, concrete corridor.
There really wasn't much to differentiate it from the many identical
doors they'd past so far. The older man
reached up and knocked.
After a couple of
seconds, the sounds of someone sliding bolts to one side echoed through the
door. A moment later, the metal was slid
to one side and a familiar looking young woman looked back at them. Lieutenant Che nodded at them and slid the
door more to the side to reveal a fairly large room on the other side.
"We're still
working, Colonel. We have not yet
cleared all the rubble, but, as you suspected, the shield no longer prevents
access to the Great Eye."
The Colonel nodded
and swept a hand forward for Ford and Teyla to pass him and enter the obviously
damaged hall on the other side. Sun
streamed in through holes in the roof, and stacked mounds of concrete rubble
were all over the place.
"I will leave
you here, in Colonel Luphron's hands," the Governor said suddenly, causing
them to turn mid-stride and look back at her in the dark corridor. "I will also see that Major Sheppard is
directed here the moment he arrives."
She nodded to them, then turned and looked at the Colonel, who was about
to follow them. "Before you follow them, may I have a word,
Colonel?"
Teyla and Ford
looked at each other, then, with a nod back to the Deucalion leader, they
disappeared inside with Lieutenant Che.
As soon as they were
out of sight, Colonel Luphron bent his head down, so that he could hear the
governor whisper in his ear.
"Was there
enough time to have the images concerning the Weapon covered?" she
hissed.
"Lieutenant Che
would not have opened the door if they didn't, Governor, and our slow progress here
guaranteed it, but," he frowned, "they will figure it out. What exactly do you plan to tell them when
the Weapon kills their scientist?"
The Governor sighed,
"But Colonel," her eyes glittered, "We already told them that we
thought the Weapon was damaged. How
could we have known it was so damaged that it would kill him?" Her lips gave a crooked smile, and the
Colonel grimaced some more. Then she
frowned.
"I would be
more worried, Colonel, about the fact that the Weapon is damaged. You know that as
well as I. And what might happen should
the Weapon not convince Doctor McKay to fix it, or if he can not fix it. He does not have that pack of his, after
all."
"I am more
worried that he will not sit in the chair," the Colonel spat. "I wish
only that the Weapon would allow more than one person to enter it at a
time. I would have gladly made the
sacrifice—"
"Well,"
she interrupted him, "What choice had we?
It needs to be fixed, and no one here can do it. I can only hope that I have read these strangers
well enough to know that they will not let innocent people suffer if they can
help it."
"They're not
stupid either, Governor. They know we're
lying to them."
"I haven't
lied," she said, blinking up at him, her face completely innocent. "I just haven't told them the whole
truth."
The Colonel's jaw
flexed. "Yes ma'am."
She stood a little
straighter, not missing the derisiveness in his tone, "I am trying to save
this City, Colonel."
He nodded, "Of
course. But these strangers…if you're
wrong about them…."
Her eyes flashed,
"You think I don't know that?"
______________________________________
McKay looked around
the other half of the hexagonal room, the mirrored wall now behind him. It was identical to the other side, except
for three things. First, there was the
chair…with vicious looking metal straps for arms and legs. Second, this room was black where the other
was white--even the chair was black.
The third difference
was more interesting and, for the first time, he felt hope—part of the roof had
caved in over the main and right sections of the console, and the console
itself was obviously damaged. He
couldn't see the extent of the damage beneath the bits of fallen roof, but he
was sure he could see numerous cracks in the otherwise smooth surface of the
marble under there.
The low hum
prevalent in the other room had a tinny quality in here.
The section of the
roof that had caved in, probably because it took a direct hit from one of the Wraith's
weapons, was blocked up by a now familiar liquid metal shield. He stared up at it for a while, interested
that it had remained intact despite his obviously shutting down the rest of the
force field blocking this place. Did it
have a separate source of power? Or,
more likely, he realized, it was just configured differently. The main shield was to protect against
further outside threats. This smaller
piece was to protect the integrity of the Weapon. Different programs.
And, he realized
further, if he could figure out how to shut it down, he might be able to crawl
out of the hole and get the hell out of Dodge.
The idea infused him
with warmth, and, for the first time since waking up in the neighboring room,
he didn't feel totally at a loss. With
that in mind, he turned his attention to the broken console. Like the one in the white room, a few lights
flickered at him from the unbroken left section, but they were erratic.
Carefully, he moved
to lift bits of glass, marble and concrete off of the section, trying to clear
the area. As what was beneath the rubble
was revealed, his lips spread into a smile.
A massive section of
the marble surface was gone and a healthy cross section of the wires
inside the console were visible,
including a dark board on which some familiar looking colored crystals
glowed--or didn't glow, depending on whether the wires were connected to
them. Most of the wires were ripped or
snapped in half, and part of the board beneath looked busted. Rodney got the feeling this wasn't a good
thing for the Weapon…but it could be a great thing for him.
"What do these
wires do?" he asked, looking at the hologram. It was still standing in the middle of the
room, staring around with a perplexed look on its face. It turned at his question, and Rodney
realized for the first time that it was flickering.
"Please repeat
the question," it asked formally.
"These
wires," Rodney pointed to the broken console, "What does each
do?"
The hologram walked
closer, staring down at the damage.
"The console is
damaged."
"Yes,"
Rodney agreed slowly, as if to a child, "I need to know…."
"The Weapon can
not be effectively controlled without it.
Can you fix it?"
"Can I fix
it?" Rodney's eyebrow's lifted,
"I don't know. Can I fix it?"
The hologram
frowned. "I do not
understand."
"It's
easy. You tell me what these wires do,
and I will tell you if I can fix it."
The hologram blinked
some more, and stayed silent for a while.
Finally, it nodded.
"The blue
wire," it pointed to a thicker wire than the others, and the least
damaged, "provides power to the console.
The black one," he pointed to its right, to a completely severed
wire "connects the console to the chair.
That must be repaired immediately." The finger drifted further,
"The yellow wire connects this room to the Great Eye and to the
Entranceway. The brown…provides my
power. The white…" he paused,
blinked, then continued, "the white wire…." He frowned again. "The white wire…."
"Provides the
power to the shields, like the one up above," McKay completed. "Don’t
worry. Your programming doesn't want to
give up everything. But I am beginning
to understand the way this whole thing works a little better. And what does the
red wire do?"
"The red
wire?"
"Yup." He
pointed to it. The hologram stared at it
for a few moments.
McKay arched an
eyebrow, "Does it, perhaps, have something to do with shutting the Weapon
on and off?"
The brown eyes of
the hologram lifted, meeting McKay's blue ones.
"Interesting,"
Rodney said, "This is making more sense now; how nice that your creators
were so conscious of color coding their efforts." He grinned, leaning down to get a better look
inside the console, and found another wire hidden inside the unbroken left
side. This one was green—and it looked
to be damaged as well, despite not being as exposed. "And this green
one…what does it do?"
The hologram seemed
to fight with itself, before answering, "It provides power to the
communication system."
McKay's eyes
widened, and he straightened up instantly, "Communications system?"
"Yes," the
hologram nodded, "you can communicate with the people in the Great
Eye."
Rodney's face lit
up, and he grinned, "Why didn't you tell me I could—"
And suddenly the
world exploded.
_______________________________________
CHAPTER
TEN: HERE THEY COME
"Sir!"
Dunne's voice came in sharply over the radio, "Major Sheppard, come in!"
The Major raised a
hand as he saw the illusory mesa come into view, and the two green-clothed guards
waiting for him, but his grin was forced. So much for radio silence. "Yes,
Corporal? What is it?" he said into the radio, the back of his mind adding
'this had better be good.'
"The
Stargate just activated, sir! I think...oh shit! Weathers, get back in here
now! Move!"
Sheppard didn't
think, he just started running towards the two Deucalion guards. They perked
up, confused by his sudden sprint in their direction.
"The Wraith,
sir! Wraith darts! Two...three...four...They just keep coming...seven...eight…
Oh, sweet mother of God...."
"Dunne?"
"Sir...there's
a massive ship...it's descending from the sky above our heads...."
"Stay inside
the ship, Corporal, you hear me!"
"Sir!"
Stackhouse's voice came next. "I can see the mother ship! Lord, it's huge!
The readouts coming up on the display...Christ, it makes n' aircraft carrier
look like a tugboat, sir! Should I come...."
"Stay where you
are, Stackhouse! Tanner, Greene, get back to the ship! I may need cover fire
getting Ford and the others out of here!"
"Yes sir!"
Tanner's voice replied. "Heading back sir!"
"Watch your
backs! Stay under the trees and watch for shadows!"
The Major skidded
before the two now very nervous Deucalion guards, his voice nearly a shout now.
"The Wraith are here! They've come back! Alert your governor and take me
to my people, now!"
_________________________________________
Ford stared at the
radio on Teyla's shoulder, while she gripped her hand around it, as if wanting to
block the sound out. They'd heard it all, and the chills the Athosian was
feeling made the reality of it even harsher. Colonel Luphron's eyes were wide
before them, and he turned to the people he had clearing the rubble. They all
stood like statues, staring at the two Atlanteans as if they'd betrayed them
somehow, trapped by their fear.
"Hurry!"
he shouted, jumping past the them to start tearing away at the fallen concrete
himself, the action setting his people in motion again. "We need to get
the doorway to the Great Eye clear now! We can't risk the shield coming up
again. This is it!"
Teyla and Ford
didn't even think as they dove in to help.
______________________________________________________
The darts bee-lined
for the mesa, not in the slightest bit fooled by the Illusion. The mother ship
followed more slowly, waiting for the smaller fighter ships to do their work
and make sure the hidden gray city was secure before heading in after them.
The Wraith sensed
the hundreds of thousands of people hiding inside that false hill, cowering
inside the hollow rock. As if such a pathetic trick of the light would fool
them. Did they really think they wouldn't be found? May as well try hiding a
sun behind a moon.
The massive ship
drifted towards the cloaked Puddle Jumper. It sensed a few small singular human
presences below, but compared to the feast inside that Illusion, it was
nothing.
________________________________________________________
Tanner and Greene
stopped, pressing themselves against trees as the first dart whipped past over
their heads, their eyes glued on the dark shape through the thick branches.
Both men sighed in relief when it didn't bother to slow down, obviously not
concerned with them.
"Keep
moving!" Tanner called, turning and running once more for their cloaked
craft. Not far now.
________________________________________________________
The Major and a
couple of Deucalion guards sprinted down the dark gray corridors of Deucalion,
trying to get to the hall of ages before the Wraith ships breached the
Illusion.
_________________________________________________________
"We're
through!" Lieutenant Che called, jumping back from the gap they'd created.
"I can get inside."
"Then go!"
Colonel Luphron shouted.
She nodded,
scrambling back up the rubble and slipping in through the gap. Teyla and Ford
moved to go after her.
"It can only
fit a handful of people inside that room," the Colonel called after them.
"Some of us...."
"Too
late," Ford called back, sliding in after Teyla as she disappeared through
the gap.
The Colonel
grimaced, his hands gripping themselves into fists. Shaking himself out of it,
he looked at the other personnel around him.
"All right, go
man your stations! We will defend this City, understand? We will not let the
people hidden below be lost without a fight! Sergeant Cusp, stay here and wait
for Major Sheppard, tell him where his people are. I have to get to the
Governor."
The sergeant snapped
to attention as everyone else around him ran out of the room, followed by the
Colonel, who gave a half salute back before disappearing as well.
____________________________________________________
The first Wraith
dart penetrated the illusion...and took aim at the first small gunnery firing
at it that it came across.
_____________________________________________________
"Communications
system?"
"Yes," the
hologram nodded, "you can communicate with the people in the Great
Eye."
Rodney's face lit
up, and he grinned, "Why didn't you tell me I could—"
And suddenly the
world exploded.
The first blast
rocked the entire room, shaking the foundations and sending Rodney harshly
forward into the console as dust and silt came down from the ceiling.
"The
Wraith!" the hologram hissed as the scientist levered himself back up,
shaking dust from his hair. "It must be! You have to fix it! Now!"
Rodney just stared
back at the projection nonplussed, not immediately responding, still feeling
the aftershocks of that first hit in his knees. The hologram flickered more.
"Please,"
it begged. "The Weapon must work! It's our only chance!"
How does a hologram
now how to beg? Rodney wondered.
Another blast rocked
the room, and bits of concrete dust floated down from the already fragile
ceiling.
It galvanized Rodney
into action. Shoving the rest of the rubble off the console with a mighty
heave, he pulled the knife from his belt and started trying to reconnect the
damaged parts of the motherboard, to replace the crystals and reconnect the
wires....starting with the green one.
________________________________________
CHAPTER
ELEVEN: WHEN THE DEVIL DRIVES
Despite its name,
the room of the Great Eye was tiny, no larger than a small, dark closet. Lieutenant Che sat down on a chair before a
small square table about the size of child's school desk, which was the only
furniture in the room, and passed her hand over it. Teyla and Ford squished inside with her,
standing on either side and watching as six yellow buttons formed on the smooth
surface of the table. At the same time,
the walls of the room around them vanished….
"Wow!"
Ford exclaimed, grabbing at the back of the lieutenant's chair as the floor
seemed to disappear, replaced by a bird's eye view of the City of
Deucalion. Except for the chair and
table, they appeared to be standing on thin air, staring out at the entire
surface of the planet, the Wraith darts looking like small birds far below them
winging towards the City. Teyla reached
her hand out, seeking the wall she had seen a second before. It was with some thanks that she felt its
cold, concrete surface still there, even though she could no longer see
it.
The Deucalion
lieutenant didn't react to the change in perspective—her hand passing over a
section of the table above the yellow buttons.
If Ford didn't know better, he'd swear she was steering an invisible
wheel.
Sure enough, the
perspective changed, and they appeared to drop hundreds of feet in
seconds—Teyla had to close her eyes for a moment from the vertigo, and even
Ford looked a little green despite the fixed jaw—until they were right above
the city, watching as the first Wraith dart swept through the Illusion, easily
dodging the shots being fired from below.
Lieutenant Che
flinched as the Dart fired a shot at one of the gunnery positions, and the
soldier inside disappeared in an explosion of fire and blown rock.
Her hand hovered
over the first yellow button, shaking slightly.
It suddenly occurred
to her that she didn't know if it would work.
_____________________________________
McKay finished with
the green wire, watching as the green crystal connected to it come to life and
stay lit. Without pause, he moved to the
white wire, which was intact….and severed it.
A bright flash
overhead and he looked up at the damaged ceiling.
Sunlight poured in
through the now open hole, and McKay grinned.
The way out!
The hologram looked
up as well, its expression obviously unhappy.
Turning back to the
console, the huge smile still on his face, McKay passed his hand over the green
light formed by the crystal just as another explosion rocked the city.
"Hello! Anyone out there! Can you hear me?"
"Doctor McKay?" Ford's voice
replied, obviously surprised. "Is that you?"
"Lieutenant! How wonderful to hear your voice!"
_______________________________________________
"Doctor
McKay!" Teyla said, looking around her for the source of the voice. "It is good to hear yours as well! We were not really sure that they...."
She shook her head, changing the subject from the Deucalion's honesty,
"Are you all right?"
"Teyla!
Yes, yes, I'm all right. A
splitting headache but otherwise….Are you all right? Where are you? Are you in the Great Eye?"
"Yes, how did you…."
"You'd have to be, to be able to hear me.
What's happening out there?"
"The Wraith,
doctor," Ford answered.
"They've returned. There's
already a Wraith dart…."
"Two,"
Lieutenant Che added sadly, looking at where a second dart penetrated the
Illusion.
"Two Wraith
darts are attacking the City.
They're…destroying all of the defenses the Governor set up."
McKay didn't answer
immediately, and Ford looked at Teyla.
"Doctor?"
"I was afraid that's what you'd tell me. Is Major Sheppard back yet?"
"He should be
here any minute," Teyla promised him.
"Doctor, tell me, is the Weapon damaged?"
"Yes, but...."
"Can you fix
it?"
___________________________________
McKay stared at the
green blinking light, then back at the hologram. It simply stared at him. It was unnerving.
"Doctor?" Teyla's voice called.
"Can you fix the Weapon? Can you make it work?"
His jaw tensed, and
he closed his eyes, "Teyla…yes, I can fix it, but…."
"Then do so.
As quickly as you can. We are
here, ready to fire it as soon as you have finished."
Blue eyes opened
again, "F…fire it? As soon as
I've….But…."
"Doctor, you must hurry. The darts are already….Look out!"
Another explosion
rocked the room McKay was in, and he ducked out of the way as more of the
ceiling fell. Luckily, it didn't hit
either him or the console, but it spooked him anyway.
"Teyla,"
he gasped, "Listen, I have a way to get out of here. I can just climb…."
"Three darts are inside now, Doctor! You have to do this!"
"But I don't
think I can! Please! I can fix it, but can't someone
else...?"
"It has to be you, Doctor. According to the Deucalions, no one can take
your place."
Another explosion.
McKay gripped the console, his eyes glued on the broken black wire--the one
that connected the chair to the controls.
"Doctor, we know the Weapon can only be fired
six times, and that it will drain you, but there is no time to find someone
else, we…."
"You mean you
know what it will do to me?" he asked softly.
"We have been told, yes. Doctor McKay, I am sorry. You and we were tricked into this position,
but there is no choice now. We can not
let these people die, not knowing we could have done something to stop it. You must fix the Weapon and guide it. Please Doctor, hurry!"
McKay took a deep
breath, not quite believing her.
"Ford? You agree?
And Major Sheppard does to?"
"Yes, Doc.
I don't like these people, but they don't deserve to be Wraith
food. And, Teyla and I aren't very safe
either. The Major isn't here yet, but I
know he'd agree."
Rodney felt like he
was going to choke. It took him a couple
of seconds to realize it was because he'd stopped breathing. Gasping in some air, he turned and looked one
more time up at the opening in the ceiling, at the sunlight and blue sky above. At his last chance. All he had to do was climb up and he'd be
free….
He realized then
that he could see black smoke rising from somewhere, drifting past the
opening.
Another explosion
rocked the room.
"Doctor?" Ford's voice asked. "The Major is outside. He says if you don't fix that Weapon, we'll
probably be trapped here with the Deucalions.
You have to fix and ready the Weapon now!"
"He said
that?"
"Yes.
Doctor McKay, he said that."
Sheppard was willing
to let him die! Hell, he was ordering
him to! He closed his eyes again. He never thought the Major would allow it,
not without a fight.
Well, who was he
kidding anyway? In the end, did he
matter so much? Only in his own mind, he
supposed. He wasn't really one of
Sheppard's men, now, was he? Not like
Ford…or even Teyla now….Deep down, he always knew he was the one who would be
left behind when push came to shove. Why
did he ever think he could be part of their team? To have…to have people who cared about what
happened to him….
He turned, staring
up once more at the hole in the ceiling.
So why shouldn't he just go?
Another
explosion. He grimaced. He knew the answer already. Suck it up, Rodney. A far, far better thing…remember your
Dickens....
"Okay," he
sighed finally, his voice losing all its edge as his head lowered. "I'll be your Sydney Carton. I'll fix it." Swiping a hand back over the green light, he
turned off the communicator.
His face held no
expression at all as he quickly moved to rejoin the rest of the damaged wires,
connecting them with their crystals. He
specifically didn't touch the white wire—he wanted the sky to be one of the
last things he would see. The black wire
he left until last, and his hands shook as he finally got to it.
______________________________________
"Is he fixing it?" Major Sheppard's
voice asked over the radio, still a little winded from his run.
"Yes sir,"
Ford replied, holding onto the radio on his shoulder, watching as Lieutenant
Che kept her hand over the first button, obviously itching to depress it. "He didn't sound happy about it
though. He said something about having
found another way out of the Weapon."
"Other than being released after six shots?"
"Yes."
"Why would he not want to guide the
Weapon? Seems to me he would love the
chance to do something like that?"
"I'm not sure,
but I think it has to do with the fact that he knows it will take a toll on
him. The Governor told us it drains you
of energy. He'll be really tired when he
finally gets out."
"It takes a toll? You mean, it could hurt him?"
"No, at least,
not permanently. But, like I said, he'll
probably want to sleep for a while."
Ford cracked a smile at Teyla, who had her arms crossed as she listened
to him. She didn't look happy with any
of this, despite what she had told McKay.
"Oh, okay.
And you're sure I can't come in there?"
"It's too small
sir. With you, I think we'd be too
crushed. If you like, you can take my
place."
"That's okay, Lieutenant. I'll keep watch out here—cover your
back. The holes in the ceiling out
here'll let me see anything coming."
"Okay
sir."
____________________________________
Sheppard sighed,
looking around the rubble of the former hall of ages, trying to see if there
was anything else interesting about this place other than it was the entrance
to this supposed Great Eye place. His
fingers gripped the butt of his P90 as he moved around, ignoring the boyish
Sergeant Cusp as the young man followed him like a puppy. He could hear the whine of the Wraith darts
as they sped over the city, firing at the positions where the Deucalion Guard
were doing their best to defend themselves.
He stopped as he
came to a section of the wall which, oddly enough, looked as if someone had
deliberately tried to cover it up. The
piles of stone were stacked instead of naturally fallen, and it was obvious
that something was behind them.
"What's
this?" he asked, looking at the Sergeant.
In response, the boy
backed away.
"I…uh…I didn't
do it!"
"Didn't do
what?" Sheppard's eyes narrowed.
"We had no
choice. I'm sorry, sir! I really am, but you have to
understand—"
"Why do you
people keep telling me I have to understand something?" Sheppard snapped
back. He looked back at the neatly
stacked "rubble"…then started tearing it down.
__________________________________________
McKay watched as the
console lit up, stepping back as the tinny noise in the background reduced
itself to a steady hum. The mirrored
wall separating this room from the other turned into glass, and he found
himself seeing clearly into the white room on the other side. The room really was a hexagon. Turning, his eyes caught the now perfectly
intact hologram watching him, the smile back in its face.
"Thank
you," it nodded.
"You're not
welcome," Rodney replied. He turned
the rest of the way around, staring at the black chair with a pained
expression. After a moment, his thoughts
became resigned, and he turned back to the console, passing his hand over the
left hand section again where the green light was.
"Ford? Teyla?"
"Yes doctor, we're here."
"It's
done."
"Thank the Light!" a third voice
said, one which McKay didn't immediately recognize, though it sounded a little
like the young female lieutenant they had first met.
"Just let us know when you're ready, Doc,"
Ford's voice said.
"Ha, ready for
this?" Rodney snorted, then drew in a shuddering sigh. "Sorry. Just need a minute more."
Rodney gripped his
hands into fists, ignoring the rocking as yet another explosion hit the city,
and he turned to the chair. Shakily, he
sat himself down, resting both his arms and legs inside the open metal braces.
He jumped as they
snapped shut, and a white glow enveloped him.
His breathing
quickened and he looked up, blue eyes widening as the ceiling became a sort of
projection screen and the city outside was reflected on it. He found he could see everything within the
inside of the dome of the illusion just by tilting his head to one side or
another….meaning he could clearly see the devastation the three Wraith darts
were causing. Fire, smoke and ash filled
the air, and he could see people running along the ground, trying to get out of
the path of the Dart's weapons.
"Ford?"
"Yeah, Doc?"
"Just…do me a
favor. If you can avoid it…don't fire
six times. The…the Weapon…it doesn't
have to…just…please don't fire it more than five times if you can avoid
it."
There was a pause,
then Ford's voice returned.
"Are you saying the Weapon may not be able to
fire six times?"
Rodney closed his
eyes again. "Please…Aiden. Just try not to. I realize, in the face of all this, that you
may have to make a choice but….please.
Do me that favor."
Ford paused a moment
before replying, "I don't understand
but….Okay Doc. We'll try not to."
"Thanks. All right…go ahead. Let's get this over with."
______________________________________
CHAPTER
TWELVE: WHITE LIGHT
"Okay,"
Lieutenant Che said, leaning forward over the console, "Doctor McKay, this
is Lieutenant Che. There are three
ships. Can you see them all?"
"Yes."
"Latch onto
each and think about destroying all three—I believe that's how it works. All right, here we go," she licked her
lips. "Firing One!" she shouted, hitting the first button.
A high pitched whine
filled the room of the Great Eye, causing all three people inside to wince at
the overwhelming sound.
_____________________________________
McKay focused on all
three Wraith darts that he could see, his mind trailing each one and merging
them together.
The white light
intensified around him, building in heat and pressure, to the point where he
couldn't breathe because it was crushing him.
He didn't even know
he was screaming as the Weapon's power burst upwards out of the room.
_____________________________________
Sheppard pivoted on one
foot, jaw dropping as he saw the massive white flare erupt upwards from some
location near the heart of the City, filling each of the holes in the ceiling
above with such intensity that he actually had to shut his eyes to protect
them.
______________________________________
Above the city, the
three Wraith darts didn't even know what hit them. As soon as the white light of the Weapon
touched them, they disintegrated.
______________________________________
On the ground, the
Deucalion Guard erupted in cheers.
______________________________________
Governor Borin fell
against the side of her window, thanking whatever gods had sent the Atlanteans
here.
______________________________________
"Damn!"
Ford grinned, impressed as the whine disappeared along with the light and the
Wraith darts. "Well done Doc! That was amazing!"
"Two more
Wraith ships are coming up fast on the Illusion," Lieutenant Che stated
formally. "They won't know what has happened to the first three until they
are inside."
"How many are
there altogether?" Teyla asked, trying to count the number of ships she
could see through the Great Eye.
"I count nine
more," Che replied, looking out from her seat, "not counting the main
hive ship."
"Oh, we're
taking that sucker down," Ford grinned, his eyes bright. "Keep it up,
doc! Only ten more ships to go!"
_______________________________________
Rodney barely heard
Ford's voice, his ears were ringing too much.
Every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire, twitching and
cramping with the energy he'd just directed from the Weapon.
Oh shit. He wasn't going to survive this five
times. He barely survived one!
_______________________________________
Sheppard had
returned to his digging, ignoring the weak protests from the Sergeant. The Weapon had startled him, but more it had
worried him. That was a lot of
power. If Rodney was standing at the
nexus of that….It wasn't harmful, Ford had said, just draining, but if they had
been told that by that snake of a Governor….
How could something
that powerful not be harmful?
They were lying
again, he just knew it. Something was
very, very wrong.
"Teyla!"
he hit the transmitter on his radio again, pausing in his boulder shifting, a
sudden thought coming to him.
"Yes Major?"
"Did Rodney say
anything else?"
"About what?"
"About
anything. What exactly did he say?"
"I…Lieutenant Che, two more ships!"
______________________________________
"Firing
two," Lieutenant Che called, reacting to Teyla's shout.
______________________________________
The white light
burst upwards again, hidden from sight to those outside the Illusion's walls,
but not to those inside. Most of the
Deucalions were forced to cover their eyes from the blinding glare, but it
didn't stop them from celebrating the rebirth of the Weapon.
Two more Wraith
darts were obliterated just as a third passed through the Illusion.
______________________________________
"Catch
it!" Ford yelled. The third dart
had clearly seen what had just happened, and was executing a sharp turn to get
out and warn the others.
"Firing
Three!" Lieutenant Che responded, her fist slamming down on the third
button.
______________________________________
Rodney channeled the
power, grabbing onto the tail of the escaping Wraith ship, riding the wave of
energy as it exploded up through the ship piece by piece. He saw the three Wraiths piloting it turning to look at the Weapon's force as it
blew them apart. Every jolt, every pain,
every explosion, he felt everything.
His agonized scream
faded as his eyesight started to dull.
The hologram watched
him from one side. It showed no
expression at all anymore.
______________________________________
"Here come
three more!" Lieutenant Che said, her hand already hovering over the
fourth button.
"How can they
not know something's wrong?" Ford marveled. "Six of their ships have just been
smoked, and they still seem oblivious."
"It is our
hypothesis that, when it wants to, the Illusion can block more than just
light," Lieutenant Che informed them, not taking her dark eyes off of the
ships. "We think it somehow
inhibits their ability to communicate with each other."
"Oh."
"Teyla," Sheppard's voice came over
the radio, "Back to my question. Did McKay say anything else?"
Teyla frowned,
looking across at Lieutenant Ford. He
wasn't paying attention, focused instead on the images around them. She took hold of her radio, trying to
remember if she had left anything out, when it came to her.
"Just that he
asked us not to fire the Weapon six times, unless we absolutely had to. And I think he used another of your
idioms. He said he would be our, I think
the name was, Sydney Carton? Who is
Sydney Carton?"
"Here they
come," Ford said, gripping the back of the chair. "You ready Doc?"
"Sydney…Carton?" Sheppard replied to
the Athosian. "That's not an idiom, Teyla. But I know that
name.…I think it's an allusion…."
"Doc?"
Ford frowned, as McKay hadn't responded to his question. He looked down at the console as if for
answers. "Doctor McKay, you
ready? In a couple of seconds, three
more ships will be inside the illusion's walls."
"Ford, please…" McKay's voice was very
quiet, and for the first time, Ford heard the pain in it, even over the
communication system, "I…I can't…."
"Firing
Four!" Lieutenant Che interrupted harshly, hitting the fourth button.
_____________________________________
McKay's whole body
lifted off the chair, barely restrained by the metal now cutting into his
wrists and ankles as the Weapon seared through every fiber. The purpose of the restraints was all too
obvious now—without them, he would never be able to keep his body willingly in
this chair.
Three more Wraith
ships inside his mind, three more to grab and destroy.
Destroy….that's all
it wants to do. Destroy, eradicate,
annihilate, and remove from existence everything it can see….
No! Just the
ships! Just the Wraith!
Oh God it hurt!
"Stop!" he
begged as the light faded once more, "Stop please!"
______________________________________
The whine died down
from the fourth shot, and Teyla frowned.
For a second, she'd thought she'd heard Doctor McKay's voice asking for
something as the sound faded….
"Doctor, what
did you just—"
"The main hive
ship," Ford breathed.
Teyla froze, staring
as the massive ship touched the edge of the illusion. Four more darts covered its back, staying
outside the illusion, covering the perimeter.
After all, for all the mother ship knew, nine darts were already
inside…that was more than enough to make sure Deucalion was defenseless and
ready for the culling to begin.
Lieutenant Che's
hand shook again, hovering over the fifth button.
"The mother ship,
Doc," Ford said to the air, "it's entering the illusion. My God…it's massive."
_______________________________________
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN: FIRING FIVE
Sydney Carton,
Sydney Carton….
Sheppard attacked the
rubble with renewed vigor, nearly able to see the images painted on the wall
behind. They'd been deliberately
covered, he knew that now.
Pausing to wipe the
sweat from his forehead, he grabbed his radio.
"Stackhouse,
Dunne, anyone….Does the name Sydney Carton mean anything to you guys?"
______________________________________
McKay stared up at
the ship appearing inside the illusion through bloodstained, watery eyes; tears
ran down his frozen face that he couldn't feel.
"This is will
be the fifth shot," the hologram said softly, turning off the intercom
with a "thought."
Rodney tilted his
head, turning it to the side in order to see the hologram's face. It took a step forward.
"You were not
ready for this, Doctor Rodney McKay. I
am sorry for that. I admit…I have been
monitoring your condition. I don't think
you will survive this fifth shot, especially not considering the size of the
hive ship, but you must try to. Even
after you destroy the mother ship, there are still four more Wraith darts out
there."
The doctor gave a
weak smile—it was all the muscles around his lips could manage.
"You…really…are…evil…."
he whispered hoarsely.
"But when you
do, and I know you can, you will have saved an entire people. That is an amazing thing. You will be honored. The people of Deucalion will—"
"Shut up."
"But—"
"I…am…not…going
to…die. Ford…won't fire…the sixth
shot….he promised…."
"He will have
to, Doctor Rodney McKay. Even though those
four darts are not as dangerous as the hive ship, they still must be destroyed,
or they will bring back more. And he
didn't promise, he only said he'd try."
"He…won't…."
"He will. I am sorry." The hologram's eyes lowered.
"No…you're…not."
The hologram looked
up, a hint of confusion in its eyes.
Then it frowned. "I don't
understand."
"It…powers…you…too…."
The projection
tilted its head. "I don't
understand," it said again.
"You…and the
Weapon," Rodney breathed in, pain wracking his chest as he did so.
"You're…too…conscious…to just be a computer…."
The hologram said
nothing to that. After a moment, it took
a step closer, so that its brown eyes seemed to stare directly into the
scientist's blue ones.
"I am
programmed to make this easier for you, that is all."
"You're
programmed…to kill me."
The hologram stared
at him a moment longer, then, it nodded.
"In the end," it shrugged, "yes."
Rodney closed his
eyes at the admission and tilted his head away.
The hologram leaned
back, "Is there anything you would like to have me relay to anyone before
you—"
"Oh…go…haunt…someone…else's…nightmares…you…incorporeal…piss-ant."
The hologram stared
at him, then bowed and stepped back, and turned the intercom back on.
________________________________
"Doc? Doc, can you hear me?"
Ford was leaning
over the Deucalion lieutenant, worried that he had not heard from the doctor in
about a minute, though he'd been calling.
"Doctor
McKay?"
"Lieu…tenant….Yes, I'm…I'm still…here."
Ford grimaced at the
weak response—it barely sounded like him.
"Doctor, the hive ship is almost through. Can you…are you…?"
"Just…fire the…damn Weapon…Ford."
Ford's grimace
became a real frown. There was real
resentment underlying that voice. McKay
always sounded mean when he was tired, but, despite the sharpness of his
tongue, you still knew he didn't actually intend to hurt anyone. But Ford felt cold fury this time—McKay's
anger was directed squarely at him.
"Doc…Are you
okay?"
"FIRE THE WEAPON!" McKay shouted back, impatience giving him
strength.
"Yes sir!"
Che shouted, slamming her hand down on the fifth button, "Firing
Five!"
_______________________________________
The hive ship knew,
as soon as half of it was through the Illusion, that something was very wrong. Rear engines were shut down, and thrusters in
front turned on. It had to get out of
there.
But it was too slow.
______________________________________
The Weapon released
the full force of its power, white light flaring so brightly that anyone looking
directly at it felt like they were witnessing a supernova.
In her window, the
Governor cried out, turning away and covering her eyes. Colonel Luphron squinted, watching through
his lashes as the bolt impacted the edge of the hive ship, then closing them
the rest of the way. Even he couldn't
handle that much light.
________________________________________
Rodney chased the
white light as it grabbed the edge of the ship, then boiled around the edges,
not letting anything get in its way. It
surrounded the entire ship, expanding beyond the Illusion for the first time in
order to encompass the whole of the hive.
Then the Weapon
boiled inside the ship, wiping out everything in its path, erasing the faces it
came across, ignoring the screams of the innocent on board as they were trapped
inside with the Wraith. The vampiric
creatures themselves didn't scream, at least, not vocally. They just let the power envelop them without
making a sound…and eradicate them from existence.
White light swelled
and ripped through metal and flesh without discrimination, like a
tsunami…nothing could stand in its path.
And through it
all….Rodney screamed until he had no voice left.
______________________________________
In the Great Eye,
the three people watched in awe at the power they were witnessing—both thrilled
and terrified at the same time.
______________________________________
Rodney pulled it
back, grabbed hold the power and wrenched, stopping it from doing any more
damage as soon as the hive ship was obliterated. The Weapon resisted, angrily fighting the
mind directing it. It turned, looking down at the gray city, wanting to erase
everything it could see, to destroy it all.
The doctor bellowed
noiselessly, bending it back, forcing it to retreat.
Until, finally, the
white light allowed itself to fade.
After all…there was
still one more shot to go.
_____________________________________
The hologram
watched, impressed to see the doctor's chest still rise and fall once the
Weapon retreated again. He had survived
after all.
"Well done,
Doctor Rodney McKay," it soothed, inspecting the slack features. "Just one more now. One more and the Weapon will be sated."
One more, and I
won't care anymore, Rodney added silently.
_____________________________________
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN: FINALLY, HE GETS IT
"Major, it's gone. The hive ship," Stackhouse's voice
was filled with disbelief. "I saw it happen from here. But, sir, there are still four Darts up
there. They're still coming—I don't know
what they're thinking but…sir, I think they're going to try one last time to
destroy Deucalion, even after witnessing that destruction. Speaking of which, Sir—what did that? I've not seen anything that powerful before,
except on old footage of the New Mexico nuclear tests…."
Sheppard frowned,
grabbing at the final bit of rock to pull it away from the wall. "That's their Weapon, Stackhouse,"
he answered without concentration.
"And those four Wraith Darts won't survive it when…." He
removed the last stone, and looked at the unobstructed wall for the first time,
"….What the…?"
"Sir?" Stackhouse asked.
Sheppard's eyes
narrowed as he absorbed the meaning of the images in front of him. The wall held a series of panels, depicting
the way the Weapon worked. His eyes lit
on the last panel in the bottommost corner and his breath caught.
"Sir, sir, I remember who Sydney Carton
is," Dunne's excited young voice said over the radio. "We
had to put our heads together, but he's the hero from…."
"The Tale of
Two Cities," Sheppard finished, his voice soft, as the meaning of the last
panel sank in. "The one who gave up
his life to save….Oh my God." The
major whipped around and ran for the entrance to the Great Eye,
"Ford! Teyla, don't let it fire
again!"
_____________________________________
"Sir?"
Ford was looking at his radio. "Why
not?"
"There are
still four more Darts," Lieutenant Che retorted, her hand over the sixth
and final button. "We can take them
all out with the final shot. I just have
to time it right."
"Major Sheppard
said not to fire it," Teyla said quietly, firmly. Che turned her head to look at the Athosian.
"But I have
to. We can't let the Darts get
away. If they do, they'll just go back
and return with more ships.
They'll—"
Ford grabbed her wrist,
pulling it away from the button.
"We're not firing it."
She glared at him,
then twisted her wrist out of his grip and stood. "This is my city, not yours! And I will defend it!" Her hand raised to slam down on the sixth
button as she turned back to the console.
The 9MM in her face
stopped her mid-strike, Major Sheppard's eyes backing up the deadliness of the
weapon in his hands. Because of the
illusion of the Great Eye, none of the three people inside had seen him slide
through the opening until he was right in front of them.
"You move,
woman," he hissed, his voice the quality of death, "and you won't be
able to defend a toaster." He
nudged his radio as she backed up, her hands raised. "Stackhouse, Dunne…get those Jumpers in
the air. You've got four bogies to take
down. And be quick about it."
______________________________________
The hologram
frowned, staring up at the images over Rodney's head. For his part, the doctor's pale blue eyes
were open, but only barely. He watched
the screens showing the four Wraith ships though half lidded eyes, without
seeming interest.
"I don't
understand," the hologram said suddenly, "why haven't they
fired? Those four darts have been inside
for long enough….They should have fired!"
"Rodney?
Rodney, are you okay? Can you
hear me?"
The doctor's parched
lips gave a tiny smile. He knew that
voice…what was it saying?
"John?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Hell yes, it's me, you asshole! Why didn't you tell
us that thing would kill you? Sydney Carton?
We were supposed to figure it out from that? You moronic, idiotic, stupid piece of—"
"John," he
said, not really hearing the words Sheppard shouted at him as his eyes slid
closed for the final time, but he could guess.
He'd failed somehow. The last
Wraith ships would finish the city, and they'd all be killed. "I'm…sorry," he pleaded hoarsely,
"I…tried….Wasn't…strong enough…."
"Rodney? No!
Rodney! Don't you give up on
me! We're coming to get you! Rodney!
Damn it, hold on!"
_______________________________________
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN: FINISHING THE JOB
Lieutenant Che
climbed out of the Great Eye, clambering out over the rocks
still partially blocking the entrance and slipping down the other
side, ending up in an ungracious heap. Cusp
darted forward to help her up, but stopped when he saw the tall, dark-haired
stranger slide down after her, his strange black weapon pointed at her back as
she got back to her feet on her own.
"Back off,
Beavis," Sheppard spat. Cusp
backtracked towards the door, raising his hands. Ford had appeared after the major, the menace
on his face clear as he lifted up the submachine gun and pointed it at
the young man.
"Call Luphron
and Borin," he ordered, indicating the control panel near the door with his
head. Cusp licked his lips, glancing at
Che. She gave a small nod.
Turning, the young
man reached for the panel, hitting the intercom.
"C…Colonel
Luphron? C…can you hear me?"
A short pause, and
the intercom came to life, "Yes! Cusp what is going on! There are four Wraith darts still—"
"Sir,
they—urp!"
Sheppard yanked the
boy away from the panel, tossing him in Ford's direction. Leaning into the panel, the major lowered his
voice to a level that sent chills up the spines of the Deucalions.
"We figured out
what your precious Weapon is going to do to our man, Luphron. We're not going to let it happen."
"Major Sheppard? Is that you?
But I don' know what—"
"Can it,
Luphron. You're a miserable, lying
little parasite, you know that? I don't
even know why I'm bothering with you, but I suppose I wanted to see if you had
any shame at all. Lord knows your
Governor doesn't. I'm only calling to
let you know we're getting McKay out of that thing, and if you try to stop
us…well, let's just say the Wraith would have been the lesser of two
evils."
"No, Major, please, you can't mean—"
"You brought
this on yourself, Luphron. I'm going
back to that courtyard and blowing up that door. See you there." And he hit the same button the panel that
Cusp had hit to activate it. He turned
back to the boy, and looked beyond to where Lieutenant Che was watching
miserably from near the rock-pile, Teyla standing firmly behind her. "Do you want to lead," he asked the
dark-haired woman, "or follow?"
The Deucalion
lieutenant's jaw flexed, "Those Wraith darts will finish this city. You've killed my people."
"Well, if McKay
is dead, Lieutenant, we'll call it tit-for-tat.
Now," he indicated the exit with his 9MM, "after you."
___________________________________________
Stackhouse was
grinning, swooping down on the hidden city of Deucalion from above, ignoring
the two Wraith darts that just sped out from the Illusion masking the city,
obviously headed for the Stargate. Those
he'd let Jumper 2 handle—the two still inside the mesa were his. Without slowing down, the Puddle Jumper burst
through the Illusion's walls, the sides of the craft opening to reveal its
array of missiles.
The two Wraith darts
were flying low, barely clearing some of the lower structures, firing down on
the gray city, obviously hoping to destroy the weapon that had torn apart their
mother ship before it fired again, a touch of desperation and panic to their
aim.
Tanner's hands flew
over the guidance system board in front of him, which had been adapted for
those without the gene to manipulate the Jumper's weapons. Not that his skill was the only thing they
were relying on—standing behind Tanner, Sergeant Greene had the Ancient gene,
and though he couldn't use it any more easily than Dr. Beckett, combined with
Tanner, the two of them were a powerful combination.
No words were spoken
as two golden missiles burst out of the Jumper, flying in two different
directions – one guided mentally by Greene, the other by Tanner's expert skill
with weaponry.
The two Wraith darts
responded with surprising agility to the new threat, instantly instituting
defensive maneuvers—but the appearance of the Jumper had been too unexpected,
and the golden missiles too smart.
Tanner's missile hit
the Dart to the Jumper's right dead center, blowing it to pieces.
Greene's missile
ripped down one side of the other Wraith dart, blowing out the wing and engines
on the right hand side of the ship, sending it pinwheeling through the Illusion's
walls. The Jumper followed it out, just
in time to see the it crash into the side of a real hill, the resounding
explosion shaking the thick forest cover.
"YEEEE-HA!"
Stackhouse shouted, pulling up the Jumper to avoid the shockwave of smoke, fire
and air from the destroyed Dart.
Grinning, Greene hit
the communicator, "Two bogies erased from existence, Major. Two more on their way to you, Captain."
__________________________________________________
"Two bogies erased from existence, Major,"
Greene's voice announced smugly over the communicator, then, more formally:
"Two more on their way to you,
Captain."
Captain Dunne
glanced at the communicator, then at Saunders and Weathers.
And grinned.
They were all so looking
forward to this, it was almost ridiculous.
Dunne lifted Jumper
2 to hover above the Stargate, his eyes glued on the distance. He left the ship cloaked for the time
being.
Two specks appeared
on the horizon.
"Dial
Atlantis," Captain Dunne ordered as he maneuvered the ship a little higher
up.
Saunders' hands
dialed the DHD as the two Wraith darts grew in size, aiming straight for their
position. As soon as the event horizon
stabilized, Saunders took control of the weapon array, hands raised over the
panel in anticipation. In the back,
Sergeant Weathers, a gene carrier like Captain Greene, focused his thoughts on
the drone weapons attached to the ship.
The Wraith darts
slowed fractionally upon seeing the Gate open already, but didn't stop their
approach.
"Captain?"
Saunders asked, glancing at the pilot.
"Whites of
their eyes, Saunders," the Boston-born captain replied. "Whites of their eyes…."
The darts sensed
something very wrong, but by the time they realized what it was, it was too
late.
"Now,"
Dunne hissed, dropping the cloak. The
Jumper put on a burst of speed, sending it directly into the path of both
oncoming ships, almost as if he were playing chicken. At the same time, both Saunders and Weathers
fired.
The two golden missiles
burst from the ship, and the two Wraith darts crossed paths, flying off in
different directions. The trick
worked…for one of them.
"Aw nuts,"
Weathers sighed as his missile followed the one aimed at by Saunders. His control just wasn't good enough—he had
mentally focused on the ship on the left.
When the ships crossed, the missile stayed left though the Dart had
veered to the right, while the one aimed by Saunders stayed on the ship it was
intended for, which had been on the right but now veered left.
Hit by both
missiles, the first Wraith ship lit up the sky, hundreds of bits of scrap metal
showering the ground below, not one of them larger than a man's hand.
All three men's
heads turned as the other dart barely missed ramming them, aiming for the Gate.
Dunne twisted the
Jumper around, just in time to see the dart disappear through the event
horizon.
________________________________________
Weir had her arms
crossed, fingers tapping in annoyance and, frankly, worry, on her arms.
"Incoming,"
Grodin informed her, studying the readouts from the open wormhole. "It's a ship, I think."
She just nodded, her
eyes narrowing slightly. All she could
do was hope it wasn’t one of theirs. No
IDC code had been activated, though her eyes constantly drifted to the laptop
screen on the console, looking for it.
Bang!
The burst of light
and obvious explosion as whatever it had been hit the Iris caused her to
flinch….
A second later,
Captain Dunne's IDC appeared on the screen.
"Lower the
shield," she commanded. Grodin
pressed down on the pad button.
"Captain?"
Weir asked. "What was that? What is
happening out there?"
"Sorry, Doctor Weir. Two Wraith darts were attempting to escape,
potentially to bring back more ships. Dialing Atlantis so that they couldn't
dial the Gate themselves, knowing that if one got past us it would hit the
shield on your end, seemed the most effective means to insure—"
"Wait, back up,
did you say, Wraith darts?"
"Oh…uh…yes."
"Captain? What the hell is going on out there!"
"Um…well…the Wraith came."
Weir waited,
expecting more, her eyes catching sight of Grodin as he instinctively held his
hand over the button to put the shield back up, not hiding his nervousness at
the word "Wraith."
When nothing more seemed
forthcoming from Dunne, Weir sighed, "Captain, did you say…came? As in the past tense?"
"Yes, ma'am.
They're gone now."
Grodin's hand lifted
away from the Iris's controls with obvious relief, and Weir's shoulders relaxed
slightly. "I see. What's your status, Captain?"
"At this time, I have no further intel,
ma'am. We expect the major to contact us
at any moment, however. We'll be back in
touch as soon as we know more."
She nodded, not
happy, but understanding.
"Okay,
captain," Weir sighed, "We will wait for the major. But," she gave a small smile, "Next
time you decide to use the Iris as weapon….just try to give us some warning,
okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied the cocky
pilot. "Dunne out."
"Wait, hold on,
is everyone…." Weir trailed off as
the Stargate shut down before she could finish, "…all right?" she
finished weakly.
"He sounded to
smug, doctor," Grodin noted.
"If someone was hurt, I don't think he would have been so pleased
with himself."
She nodded absently,
"I suppose you're right. Guess
we'll know for sure soon enough."
Her arms recrossed,
fingers once more nervously tapping her arms.
_________________________________________
"Last two Darts
out for the count, Major," Dunne called over the radio.
"Well done, Captain. Stay by the gate and be prepared to dial
Atlantis. I think we're going to need a
medical team over here."
The young captain's
smug expression instantly disappeared, and he glanced worriedly at his
companions, "Yes sir."
_________________________________________
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN: RAY OF LIGHT
Rodney was floating
now, drifting along a strange stream of consciousness that had his thoughts
bouncing randomly from idea to idea.
Vaguely he could tell he was still in the chair—he could feel the
tackiness around his wrists and ankles where the metal restraints had cut into
his skin and rimed them with dried blood like frost on a window—but there
wasn't much real pain left. He didn't
want to open his eyes, didn't want to see the harsh black and white world that
had been his final resting place, didn't want to see the Weapon's triumphant
grin as he became as ghostly as the machine itself.
It was just waiting,
either for him to die, or for one more chance to destroy something…and then for
him to die in the process. Either way,
it was a win-win situation for the Weapon.
Either way it erased
one more life from existence.
He started drifting
deeper into wherever it was he was headed for, planning on giving up, when
something new prickled his skin.
Warmth.
His expression
frowned, not quite understanding what it was.
It was so alien from the cold light of the Weapon. But something warm was definitely touching
his right arm.
Against their will,
the blue eyes blinked open.
He saw the hologram
first, still standing there about two feet away, but its expression was only
curious now. It was staring up at the
ceiling over the chair, obviously watching something on the screens. It no longer had that sense of urgency on
its face.
Strange.
Not strange enough
for the doctor to look up, though. He
didn't want to see what his failure had caused.
Was it all over? Was everyone dead…or
taken?
Images crossed his
mind of Sheppard kneeling before the Wraith, defiant to the end as they tortured
him for information about Atlantis and Earth, of Ford and Teyla dying by
degrees as their youth was sucked from them, of the triumph of those horrible
creatures laying waste to the entire population of this city…of then going to
Atlantis to finish the job….
They had all died
because of him. Because he could not
finish what he had started.
Rodney's eyes
drifted down to the part of his arm that felt warm…and his lips lifted into the
faintest of smiles despite the misery coloring his unsound mind.
Sunlight.
It poured thickly
through the hole in the ceiling, and it had shifted enough to touch his
arm. He followed the light upwards, to
the hole, and to the blue sky beyond.
The smile grew. He had been right
to keep the defensive shield off—it was worth the ceiling potentially coming
down on his head to be able to see the sky now.
At least…it was
something.
He just wished he
could float out that hole and tell them…tell them….
"I'm
sorry," he whispered.
The hologram turned,
watching as McKay's eyes closed again, not sure if he had actually spoken just
then or not. It frowned slightly, then
looked back at the projections. It had just
seen a strange new ship destroy both Wraith darts.
The threat to Deucalion
was over.
At least the one
from outside this room.
The brown eyes
returned to the still form of the doctor, and measured the white glow still
surrounding him. Its worry grew as it
felt the growing impatience of the Weapon.
It was still waiting
to fire…and take its payment.
__________________________________________
Sheppard stopped
before the metal door blocking the entrance to the Central Courtyard, watching
as Che stood to attention and Cusp cowered against the wall. Teyla and Ford stood at the Major's back,
both in full glare mode.
"Well?" he
demanded, when neither Deucalion seemed inclined to open the door.
"The Central
Courtyard is off limits when the Weapon is working," Lieutenant Che stated
firmly. "We can not open this door
until the Weapon's cycle—"
"Bull-crap,"
Sheppard spat. "Open it."
"I can't,"
she hissed back. "It won't
open. No one can open it."
"I can,"
Ford smiled softly. Sheppard looked back
at the young man, and then nodded. Che looked
confused as the major grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
"What is he
going to do?" she demanded, her eyes on the lieutenant as he knelt in
front of the door and pulled something from his vest, "What is he
doing!"
Teyla nudged Cusp in
front of her, following the major and Che down the hall, the young man really
just trying his best not to pee in his pants.
Che struggled in
Sheppard's grip, "I asked you a question!
Answer me!"
"What? Answer a
Deucalion's question? Now, that wouldn't
be fair now, would it? Not unless I
lied, of course—that'd be fair. So fine,
here's your answer—he's testing for termites."
They moved around a
corner, Che's expression hateful and scared at the same time. A moment later, Ford's running footsteps
echoed down the concrete hall behind them, and he rounded the corner with a
smile.
"Fire in the
hole, Major!" he called, hitting the detonator on his remote.
The explosion was
small and contained, but also very effective.
As the small group rounded the corner again, they saw the metal door had
been blown of its hinges, landing about five feet away across the marble floor
of the courtyard. It had gouged ugly
black lines into the porous soft stone.
"Looks like
you've a pretty bad termite problem," Sheppard said darkly, finally
letting Lieutenant Che's arm go. "One down," he announced to Ford,
and the lieutenant nodded. Che rubbed
her arm where Sheppard's fingers had dug
into her skin as the Major and Ford jogged into the courtyard.
"Go on,"
Teyla ordered softly, still standing behind Che and Cusp, her hands resting on
her gun for emphasis. The two Deucalions
sighed heavily, but did as they were told.
_______________________________________
"Which one is
it?" Sheppard asked, following Ford as the younger man headed to one side
of the massive glass aula.
"This one
sir," the lieutenant answered, skidding to a halt in front of a metal door
that appeared larger than the rest.
"It doesn't slide sideways like the rest of them sir," he
noted, pointing up, "it came down from above."
"Like a garage
door?"
"Yes, except it
doesn't fold. It just came down."
"Well, doesn't
matter. Find its weak points and blow it
down, lieutenant."
"Yes sir!"
Ford replied, unable to resist a smile at the prospect.
"Wait!"
Both Sheppard and
Ford turned around at the yell, as did Teyla, Cusp and Che standing off to one
side, everyone looking towards the entrance to the courtyard that they had
blown up. Colonel Luphron, Governor
Borin and about twelve armed guards jogged towards them.
Ford sent a spray of
machine gun fire into the air, stopping them in their tracks.
"I'm guessing
those little rifles of yours aren't quite as quick on the job," Sheppard
quipped, smiling at the Colonel.
Some of the more
brave guards levered their rifles at the three Atlanteans regardless, but
Luphron held up a hand, forestalling any movement.
"Wait, Major
Sheppard, please, think about what you are doing."
"I'm rescuing
my man, Colonel. What are you
doing?"
"Trying to stop
you from destroying our only means of defense against the Wraith!"
"You should
have thought of that before—"
"The Weapon was damaged!" Governor Borin's
shrill voice interrupted, stalking forward towards the Major. "You saw for yourselves how defenseless
we are without it! It had to be fixed! And we couldn’t do it—only your Doctor McKay
could. What would you have done?!"
"I would have
ASKED!" Sheppard yelled back.
"And I would have given us the opportunity to find another way, the
option to decide for ourselves what could be done. But you didn't do that. You lied and stole something incredibly
important to us, and now we're taking it back." He whipped around, "Blow the door
Lieutenant."
"No!"
Luphron shouted, "Don't!"
"Give me one reason
why I shouldn't, other than you people trying to save your own skins,"
Sheppard hissed back.
"Because he's
not behind that door!"
Sheppard
straightened, cocking his head to one side.
"Say
what?"
Luphron took in a
deep breath, "He's not inside there. It doesn't lead anywhere. It's just a corridor…and some kind of
transportation device."
Ford was staring
contemplatively at the door now, while Sheppard's eyes narrowed on the blond
Colonel.
"How do you
know?"
"It's
written. The real Weapon's location is
hidden…in case anyone tried to do what you're doing. We know it's nearby, but we don't know
where."
Sheppard's eyes
sparkled, torn now. His upper lip lifted
into a sneer.
"You know what,
Luphron? You've lied to us so much, I
can't even tell when you're not lying
anymore."
"I am not
lying."
"How do I know
that?"
The Colonel opened
his mouth, then shut it. He had no
answer to that.
"Major
Sheppard," Teyla's quiet voice floated above the tension in the massive
room.
Sheppard didn't take
his eyes off Luphron, "Yes Teyla?"
"Doctor McKay
did tell us that he had another way out of the Weapon. He said something about climbing
out."
"So?"
"So, if there
is indeed a hole in the roof of the Weapon, then perhaps we can see it? We know that it is located close to this
glass dome, because the light erupted out of the center of the city. Perhaps the men in Jumper 1 can find
it?"
Luphron grimaced and
Sheppard frowned. Ford continued to
stare longingly at the door he wanted to blow up, while Teyla did what she
could to bring reason back to the furious major's mind.
Finally, the major
nodded. He hit his radio.
"Stackhouse."
"Yes sir?"
"Where are
you?"
"Hovering not far from the city, sir. We're
keeping an eye out to make sure no more Wraith appear unexpectedly sir."
"Good man. Look, I need you to come back inside the
Illusion."
"Yes sir.
Be there in two minutes."
There was a pause
then, with the two sets of people still glaring at each other. Finally, Governor Borin stepped forward.
"Major, I…I
just….I did want to thank you for destroying those last four Wraith ships. We did not know you had that kind of
firepower."
Sheppard's eyes
flicked to her, "I didn't do it for you."
Her eyes
lowered. Sheppard looked away, back to
Luphron. The Colonel managed to match
the stare, but there were hints of sorrow around the edges of his eyes.
"Sir," Stackhouse's voice came in
over the radio, "We're inside sir."
"Okay. I need you to focus your attention around the
large glass dome in the center of the city.
Start looking for—"
"Glass dome, sir?"
"Yes,"
Sheppard looked up to the sky shining through the glass overhead, "You
should easily see the large…." Suddenly, it clicked. How was it possible
that a roof as fragile as the one overhead wasn't damaged? There should have been glass fragments all
over the courtyard floor, shattered windows from the barrage of gunfire from
the Wraith ships…but all he saw were a few bits of concrete dust. "They don't see it," he realized
wonderingly, his voice soft. Then, more
into his radio, "Stackhouse, can you locate where we are standing?"
Another pause, and
then Greene's voice answered, "We
have you on screen, sir. You're in the
middle of the city, beneath a fairly large concrete roof. I suppose it could be a dome, but it is not
made of glass."
"No
kidding," Sheppard breathed, and his eyebrow quirked as he saw the Puddle
Jumper appear in the sky overhead and settle into a hover. He looked around at the places where it
appeared that "windows" in the ceiling were open.
"Can you see
any openings in the roof, Jumper 1?"
"Yes sir.
There appear to be a number of cut openings, and at least one jagged
hole that was probably created by weapons fire."
"A jagged
hole," Sheppard repeated, staring at the illusory ceiling—it had the
appearance of being pristine. "Hang
on, Stackhouse. Stay where you
are."
The Major looked
around, then walked over to where a small chunk of broken concrete about the
size of small rock rested on the floor.
Picking it up, he was suddenly reminded of their conversation with McKay
when they were all standing outside the mesa's wall. That seemed like years ago. Maybe I
should just show you, McKay had said smugly, right before throwing a rock
through the illusion he had seen.
Clever, sarcastic, obnoxious son of a bitch.
Please let him be
okay.
"What are you
thinking sir?" Ford asked, echoing the thoughts of everyone standing in
that courtyard.
"I'm wondering
if McKay would have figured this out sooner than us if he were here," Sheppard
replied, tossing the rock in his hand.
"I'm going to see if I can break a window."
"Why?"
"Because I'm
pretty sure I'm not even going to get close."
And leaning back,
the major did his best Cy Young impression, throwing the rock with all his might
up towards the ceiling.
It hit something
hard about two thirds of the way there, the illusion rippling enough to show a
concrete ceiling about a story's width below the illusory glass ceiling, before
the rock came back down and the illusion of open space returned. There was a room hidden above their heads,
underneath the dome.
"Light
above," Lieutenant Che hissed, her eyes wide. "I had no idea…."
"No,"
Sheppard replied, staring back at the Governor, "but your Governor and the
Colonel did. She can see the dome's roof
from her office."
"So?" the
older woman challenged back, "that doesn't mean I knew the Weapon was
housed up there! I just…."
"That's
enough!" Colonel Luphron shouted, staring at the woman by his side. Borin's eyes widened as she looked back at
him, "They don't care, Barbara.
Nothing we say now matters anymore.
I say we just get out of their way."
"Got that
right," Sheppard agreed. He tapped
his radio again, "Stackhouse."
"Yes sir?"
"See a place
somewhere outside of this building where you can drop a line down and pick me
up?"
"Um…yeah.
Move forward a couple of steps, will you Major?"
Sheppard complied,
moving forward.
"Okay, we've got you pinpointed. From where
you're standing, there looks to be an open area at 2:00. We'll drop a rope down and pick you up. Where do you need us to take you?"
"Onto the roof,
Stackhouse, where else?" Sheppard
turned to Ford, and pointed towards the wall where 2:00 would be. There was no door there. "Ford, blow up that wall, will ya?"
The lieutenant's
lips cracked into a grin.
___________________________________________________
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN: BLACK, WHITE…AND RED
None of the
Deucalions tried to stop the Major as he grabbed the rope and harness thrown
down from the Jumper floating above, tying it around his waist and giving the
thumbs up for them to lift. Ford and
Teyla just gave him encouraging nods as he rose, and he gave them his best
confident look back. As soon as he was
high enough up, the people on the ground climbed back inside the hole Ford had
created in the dome's walls in order to watch the Major's progress through the
"glass."
The Jumper lifted
gently into the air, careful of the burden dangling at the end of the rope,
smoothly carrying the major up over the edge of the roof.
Sheppard had to
shake his head again at the sight of the obviously concrete dome. It suddenly occurred to him how fitting it
was that even the buildings here hid things.
There was nothing black and white about Deucalion; it was all illusion
and shades of gray…well except perhaps for the Weapon itself. There was nothing false about its power.
As he was lifted
higher, he saw the open "windows" letting in air to the
courtyard.
And then he saw the
jagged hole near the apex of the roof.
"There it
is," he yelled into the radio on his shoulder. "Lower me down on the roof just next to
the hole…I'm going inside."
"Sir, are you sure?"
"I'm betting my
life and McKay's on it, Stackhouse. Just
lower me down!"
There was a short
pause, then "Yes sir, but you should
know, there are no life signs showing up on the screen from in there." In other words, even if McKay was inside the
hidden room…he was likely dead.
Sheppard's chest
grew cold at the information, but he wasn't willing to give up so easily,
"I have to believe it’s the Weapon doing that, Stackhouse, and the
Illusion, keeping him hidden."
Another pause, then,
"Yes sir. Here we go, sir."
As he got closer, he
could see that the hole was about two feet across, more than large enough to fit
him. But he could see nothing at all
inside of it—just black.
"Here we go,
sir," he repeated to himself as his feet hit the delicate roof just shy of
the hole. The rope slackened, and he
knelt down and crawled to the opening, sensitive to the roof's crumbling
potential. Grabbing his 9MM from its
holster, he let the barrel of the gun lead the way into the hole, just in case
there was some sort of invisible shield blocking it he couldn't see.
When nothing
happened, he nudged himself forward and peered more into the hole.
Well, that explained
why it seemed black inside. It was
black. He saw a black floor, part of a
broken console, also black, and not much else.
His eyes were having a hard time adjusting considering the brightness of
the sun above his head.
"McKay,"
he called, "Rodney, can you hear me?
Are you in there?"
Nothing answered
him. He leaned more over the hole and
dipped his head inside.
He jerked upright,
nearly hitting his head on the edge of the hole, when he found someone staring back
at him. It was a dark haired man,
dressed head to toe in brown, and its glittering eyes reflected sharply the
light coming in through the hole.
"You are not
supposed to be here. You must
leave," the man announced.
"Oh, I don't
think so," Sheppard smiled, gesturing at him with his gun. "I am pretty sure you have a friend of
mine in there."
"You must
leave," the man repeated again.
"I
repeat," Sheppard's eyes moved past the man and deeper into the room,
"not until I find my…." The
words died in his throat as his eyes caught sight of McKay. The doctor was sitting in the nastiest
looking dentist's chair the major had ever seen, complete with metal straps
holding him down. A white glow enveloped
him, making him look washed out—and a little bluish in color. Like a corpse. "Oh God," he hissed. He tapped his radio, "He's here! I've found him. I'm going in."
"No!" the
hologram gasped, as Sheppard quickly undid the harness around his waist,
grabbed the edge of the roof and prepared to swing down inside. "You can
not—"
"Out of my
way!" Sheppard hissed, ignoring the stranger as he dropped into the black
room. He took a quick glance around for
threats, including into the corresponding white room on the other side of the
glass partition, before focusing all of his attention on McKay's much too still
form. He had only took a couple of steps
towards his friend, though, when the white glow surrounding McKay
intensified…almost angrily…and the doctor tensed, his whole body stretching in
the chair, pain seizing his features with a choked gasp.
"Get
back!" the strange man barked from behind the uncomprehending Major.
Sheppard quickly
backtracked until the terrifying light died down again, breathing fast at the
realization that the Weapon was still very much with them.
McKay settled, but
the white glow was more intense than it had been before, and even from across
the room Sheppard could see the man was racked with tremors still, his wheezing
breathing erratic.
"You can not
have him," the strange man informed the Major. "Doctor Rodney McKay and the Weapon are
too closely joined. If you try to get
near him, it will only destroy you, and him as well."
Sheppard took a
shuddering breath, his frustration clear on his face as he rounded on the
stranger.
"And who the
hell are you?"
"I am the one
who helps those, like Doctor Rodney McKay, who volunteer to guide the Weapon
to—"
"Volunteer? He didn't volunteer for this!" The major pointed to the chair, "I want
him out of that thing!"
"Oh, but he
did," the man smiled thinly. "He sat in that chair of his own free
will…after you and your people ordered him to do so. He was going to escape," the brown eyes glanced towards the hole in
the ceiling, "and he would have succeeded," the eyes returned to the
major's face, "but the words of the ones called Teyla, Ford and,
particularly, the Major changed his mind, convinced him he had no
choice." The head tilted at
Sheppard's surprised face, "He has experienced more than one kind of pain
today," he added quietly.
The major's brow
furrowed, not understanding what this man was saying.
"Major?" Ford's voice called over
the radio, "What's happening? You
disappeared when you hit the roof. Are you in the room?"
The stranger's
eyebrows rose, "So…you're the Major?
Interesting."
Sheppard blinked,
and he nudged the radio to respond, "Yes, I'm here, but there's a
complication, Ford. I'm trying to figure
it out. Stay put."
"Yes sir."
Yes, sir, Sheppard's
mind rang with the words. He glanced at
McKay, sitting on that horrible thing.
They ordered him to sit
there? Convinced him to?
"McKay…what the
hell were you thinking? What did you
hear?" he breathed. "You must
know that had I known, I would have never…." He trailed off. How could McKay ever think that he would
allow this? "How could you think
that of me…?" he hissed, shaking his head partly in anger and partly in
disbelief.
"Major, you can
not be here," the brown man stated again, more harshly than before. "You can do nothing for him. Just accept that he is going to die."
The cold words
caused some sort of primal response in Sheppard, and he reacted without
thinking, sending a roundhouse punch at the stranger's face.
It passed right
through, and Sheppard gasped as he stumbled forward, his body following the
force of his throw and landing against the delicate console. He turned in shock, staring back at the
man…hologram?
"You're not
real," he gasped.
"I am a
projection, yes," it replied.
"You can not harm me."
"Well,
nuts," the Major leaned heavily against the edge of the console, hands
shifting to his hips. He lowered his
head, shutting his eyes to calm himself down and think.
"Understand
that I am not asking this because I want him to die. You need to leave," the hologram pressed
again. "It is for the best."
Slowly, the major's
eyes lifted to glare into the face of the hologram, then beyond him. The hands fell away from his hips, gripping
themselves into fists.
"McKay,"
he snapped.
Nothing.
"McKay, wake
up."
Still nothing.
"MCKAY!"
Sheppard shouted, all patience gone now.
"Wake up!"
The doctor's body
flinched ever so slightly.
"Come on,
Rodney. Open your eyes. Talk to me.
I know you're still in there."
The man on the chair
struggled with something, his face registering both exhaustion and
bewilderment.
"G'way
ho…gram…." Rodney's weak voice whispered.
It was barely audible—the Major had to strain to hear him. Sheppard swallowed down his fear at the
un-McKay like sound and pushed on.
"It's not the
hologram, Rodney," Sheppard's teeth gritted together, "It's me.
Sheppard. I'm here. Open your
eyes."
The doctor's face
pinched, but, amazingly, he did as he was told.
To John's immense relief, the lids fluttered and the pale blue eyes
cracked open. He saw them look around a
little, before finally landing on the tall man.
Puzzlement crossed the tense features.
"Shep.…?" the voice died off.
"Yup. McKay, look, before you ask, I'm real. I came in through the hole in the ceiling.
Now, I'm trying to get you out of here, but that…that chair thing you're
strapped to…it won't let me near you.
You have to tell me how to turn it off."
Dried, parched lips
lifted into a smile, "Hi John."
He clearly hadn't heard a word.
Sheppard grimaced,
"Rodney, listen to me. How do I turn that thing off?"
The lips frowned,
"Off…?"
"Yes, off. I need to get you out of here. How do I shut it down!"
"Kill me,"
Rodney chuckled morbidly, an ugly sound combined with the hoarseness of his
throat. Sheppard winced.
"Damn it, not
an option, Rodney. Find another
way."
The scientist's face
frowned at that, the words obviously have more meaning to him than any of the
others.
"Find…?"
he repeated softly.
"Yes,
McKay. Another way," Sheppard nodded,
thankful to see something more than resignation
and hurt in his friend's eyes.
"That's what you do. Find
another way."
"Another…way…." The eyes closed.
"No!"
Sheppard shouted, "Stay with me!
McKay, don't you dare close those eyes!"
The blue eyes opened
again to stare at the Major with some bewilderment, then shifted to the
hologram.
"Real?" he
whispered.
The hologram's jaw
tensed, but he nodded, "Yes, he is real."
"Oh,"
Rodney looked back at the Major, and there was a hint of marvel in his
eyes. "I didn't…believe….real….But
it doesn't…lie…."
Sheppard's lips
quirked into an involuntary smile at that.
"Then it’s the
only thing in this damn city that doesn't."
McKay actually
managed a hint of a smile back…then closed his eyes again.
"MCKAY!"
Blue eyes opened
again, a hint of aggravation in them now.
Sheppard ignored it.
"Stop
that. Stay awake! How do I get you out of here! Tell me!"
The eyes blinked,
and then something very dark crossed Rodney's face, "Why?"
"Why
what?"
"Why…bother…."
Rodney whispered, the pain in his voice more than just physical.
Sheppard's breath
caught for a moment, finally understanding what Rodney was asking him—and what
the hologram had meant earlier. Then he
stood a little straighter, his jaw steeling.
"Because I'm
not losing you, McKay. I will not allow
you to die for these people. You hear
me? I'm going to get you out of here and
take you home, but you have to tell me how I turn the damn Weapon off
first!"
Rodney focused on
the Major, and for a second his brow furrowed, as if he would say something…but
instead the eyes closed again.
"Just…go…."
he whispered.
"No, damn it,
McKay," Sheppard groaned in exasperation, taking an involuntary step
forward…and the harsh white light grew again.
McKay made a sound like he was choking and Sheppard instantly fell back
against the console, a look of complete helplessness on his face. The light faded again.
McKay's breathing
evened out once more into a steady wheeze, but this time the tremors cascading
down his frame were more pronounced.
"Oh Christ,
Rodney," the Major breathed, trying to make sense of what was happening as
the tremors finally subsided, and the doctor's head lolled down closer to his
shoulder. "You have to help me out here. I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you
might think, but I can't fight this thing alone—I don't even understand what
the hell it is!"
"I do,"
the hologram said softly.
Sheppard quirked an
eyebrow and turned to the projection standing next to him. It actually looked concerned, which surprised
him.
Fact was, he didn't
have a lot of options here. Without
McKay, there was no one else to tell him how to shut the Weapon down.
"Yeah," he
admitted weakly, "I bet you do."
He frowned, "McKay said you don't lie."
"I was
programmed to only tell the truth."
"The whole
truth?"
"Of
course."
"Okay
then," he licked his lips, he looked over at the unconscious scientist
with the hologram, "you tell me: how do I get him out of here?"
The hologram
frowned. "You…can't," it replied brokenly. "His connection to the Weapon would have
to be cut off first."
"Okay, so how
do I cut the connection?"
"You can't, not
without damaging the console."
Sheppard's eyebrow
quirked, and he looked behind him at the damaged console. He saw the crystals and wires, noting with
some interest that a number of them had been reattached and reset. McKay had done that, obviously. His fingers touched the thick red wire he saw
at the top of the console. It and a
yellow wire were the only two showing no damage at all.
He arched an
eyebrow, "And if I have no issues with damaging the console?"
The hologram
frowned, "You don't understand; it's too dangerous. The Weapon can not be effectively contained
without the console. You could cause
greater harm than good if you try to cut the connection to the mind guiding it
at this stage."
Sheppard looked over
at McKay, wishing he could get corroboration from him, but the man wasn't even
moving anymore. If it weren't for the soft rise and fall of his chest….He
frowned at the thought, and looked back at the hologram.
"What kind of
harm?"
"I do not
know. It is possible nothing will
happen, that it will just shut down. In
the alternative, the Weapon could react uncontrollably."
"Uncontrollably? Meaning?"
"The Weapon is
a conscious entity, with a single purpose—to destroy. If it senses it has no mind to guide it
before it has been fired six times, it might choose to fire itself, and it
would seek to eradicate everything inside the Illusion's walls. You could kill everyone in Deucalion, level
the city. I do not know the extent of
its power, but without a mind to control it…." The hologram tapered off.
Sheppard quirked an
eyebrow, "Let me get this straight…you're saying the Weapon is an entity?
You mean…it can think?"
"In a manner of
speaking, yes."
"Bull!"
The hologram
actually smiled at that, "I know what that means now. It means you don't believe me."
"Damn
straight."
"Neither did
Doctor Rodney McKay."
Sheppard frowned, connecting
the dots, "but he does now."
"He's connected
to the Weapon. He knows now better than
anyone," the hologram actually seemed sad as looked towards the doctor.
"He has had to battle constantly to contain the destruction it wants to unleash. After the hive ship was destroyed, the
Weapon's hunger was at its peak….Doctor Rodney McKay forced it back. He is a lot stronger than he
appears." He looked back the major,
"It should have killed him. The Weapon certainly wanted it."
The major was
shaking his head. "I won't believe
this. Machines don't hunger for
things. Weapons do not want.
They aren't conscious things.
This is all a whole lot of—"
"Bull?"
"Yes."
The hologram's jaw
tensed, "Then explain why it reacted to you when you tried to approach
Doctor Rodney McKay."
Sheppard grimaced,
then waved a hand around, "Well…it has defenses, doesn't it? The shield thingy that McKay took down
earlier," he looked at the hologram, "you," and he looked at the chair, "and that
white light stuff. It's just reacting to
outside threats seeking to extinguish it."
He looked back at the hologram, "But, as McKay constantly proves,
there is always a way around defensives.
There's a way around this one."
He turned to the broken console behind him, "and you're going to
tell me what that is."
The hologram shook
his head, "you're a fool. If it
were just a machine, you would be right.
But the Weapon is not just a machine!"
Sheppard stared down
at the console, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. It was too fantastic. It couldn't be alive! It couldn't be aware!
But then…there was
that shadow thingy back on Atlantis.
McKay had gone Sydney Carton on them then as well….
What if the hologram
was right?
"God DAMN
IT!" he yelled, slamming his hand against the glass partition in front of
him. The glass shook…but nothing much
else happened except that now his hand hurt.
He whipped around, staring hard at the oblivious McKay, everything
finally reaching his breaking point.
"You smug, arrogant, pig-headed, frustrating fool! You adolescent, snot-nosed, Canadian
moron! You freakish, senseless, idiotic
bonehead! You are not dying on me! Not on me!
Not like this. Wake up! WAKE UP and help me!"
Nothing.
McKay didn't even
move.
"God damn it,
McKay….please. Don't do this! Show me another way!"
The softer plea was
as effective as the yelling.
The doctor might as
well already be…..
Sheppard lowered his
head. No. Don't think like that. Don't give up.
"The Weapon will
take him soon," the hologram said softly. "It will sense his death
and—"
"He's not
dead," the major stated softly, even with his head bowed. After a moment, he looked up, then turned to
stare down at the console again. The
hologram sighed.
"Not yet,
but—"
"What do these
wires do," Sheppard interrupted roughly, pointing down. "Red, yellow,
blue…one of them must do something that can turn this thing off."
The hologram watched
him for a moment, then stepped forward.
"Those wires control the Weapon."
"I know
that," Sheppard hissed, "what does each one do."
The hologram, even
more reluctantly than before, pointed out the purpose of each wire. Sheppard arched an eyebrow at the severed
white wire, thanking McKay for at least having that much foresight, then looked
up as the hologram's voice stopped when he pointed to the red wire.
"Something
wrong?" he asked.
"The red
wire…," the hologram looked to be fighting with itself, "the red
wire…."
"The red
wire…what?"
"It…it…."
Sheppard looked at the
wire in question. It was one of only
three wires that didn't appear to have been damaged inside the console. It was thicker than the others, more
substantial—it would take more than a few hits to hurt it.
Why have such a
thick wire?
Probably because…it
was the most important one?
"You can't tell
me what it does," Sheppard reasoned slowly, comprehension dawning,
"because your programming prevents you.
Two conflicting orders," he looked at the hologram, "answer
all questions….and stop anyone from shutting the Weapon down." His eyes lit up, "the red wire is the
plug, isn't it? The shut off. The big red button for abort!" He grinned as the hologram just stared at
him, not saying anything at all. "I
knew there had to be a way. There's
always a back door, an ejector seat, a contingency plan…." He looked back at McKay, "All right,
Rodney. That's it. I'm getting you out of here."
"No! It won't
work!" the hologram spouted.
"Are you
sure?" Sheppard snapped, eyeing it out of the corner of his eye. "Are you certain? How do you know? How do you know cutting this wire doesn't
just shut it all down? You said yourself
before that it's possible nothing will happen.
Were you saying that was a lie?"
The hologram looked
like it had been slapped, then it shook its head, "No, I don't lie. And
yes, you're right, I don't know. Cutting
that wire could do exactly what you want….But it could also do the exact
opposite."
"But of course
you're going to say that. You don't want
it shut down! You're programmed to keep
it running, isn't that right?"
"Yes, of
course, but—"
"But
nothing. I think the people who built
this place had to have considered something going horribly wrong. They had to have put a failsafe in. The fact that you can't tell me what this wire
does tells me this is it. So I'm going
to cut it, and that's that."
"And if you're
wrong?"
Sheppard stared at
him a moment longer, then looked over at the unnaturally silent McKay.
"Well," he
stated quietly, "I'm willing to take that risk, if it means I can save
him." He looked back at the
hologram, "And if it doesn't, then I'll figure something else out."
"I just,"
the hologram frowned, "I don't believe you can just shut it off. It can't work that way; it's
aware…alive…."
But Sheppard wasn't
listening anymore. Pulling his knife
from his belt, he pressed the edge against the red wire…and started to saw
"I beg of you,
don't…." Suddenly the hologram
gasped, and waved a hand in front of Sheppard's face to get his attention,
"Look what's happening! It
knows!"
The major turned,
and his lips parted to see the white light swelling around the chair
again. It grew so bright, Sheppard had
to squint, and in the center of it all…he saw McKay finally react. The doctor's head tipped back, a harsh gasp
echoing from his ragged throat as his whole body convulsed in the chair.
"Oh no you
don’t!" Sheppard yelled, turning again to the console, pressing deeper
into the wire, like a surgical knife cutting through an aorta. "I won't let you have him!"
The white light grew
in the room, and the hologram closed his eyes in surrender…and vanished.
A massive shockwave
hit the back of the Major just as the red wire snapped in half.
The entire room was
plunged into darkness…except for the sunlight streaming through the roof,
forming a square of light on the floor of the black room. It lit up the slack right arm of the man
still in the chair, the metal manacle clicking open, and the legs of the
unconscious man by the console.
____________________________________________
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN: WAKING UP
The entire dome
suddenly filled with white light, and Ford vaguely recalled his voice echoing
with Colonel Luphron’s as they all scrambled towards the hole in the wall, both
men shouting for everyone to run. The
actions were such a blur that he almost wasn’t sure they had made it—until the
light looming before his blinking eyes resolved into sunlight.
Breathing heavily,
feeling a strange tingling all over his body, he pushed himself off the
concrete earth he’d landed on and looked around. Teyla was already up—the woman could fly when
she ran—and she was checking on the Deucalions still lying on the ground after
they had dived through the opening.
He frowned when he realized
that he did not see everyone that had been inside with them. Stepping over those still lying on the
ground, he peered back into the now very dark Central Courtyard. Lights around the walls had come on, probably
normally used when it was nighttime, but the illumination they shed seemed
woefully inadequate compared to the brightness of before.
About three guards
and Colonel Luphron were lying still inside the dome, out cold.
He leaned further
into the hole and looked up. The glass
illusion was completely gone. He could
clearly see the floor of the hidden room up above, metal and concrete
crisscrossed in an ugly, but efficient pattern.
He felt a presence
behind him, and he turned to see Lieutenant Che staring at him. Her face was bloodied a little—she must have
hit the ground hard when she’d dived—but she didn’t seem to notice the hurt.
"Excuse
me," she asked with polite formality.
Ford nodded and backed away from the opening, allowing her to climb
through to check on her people. As he
turned back to the others, he saw Governor Borin watching him with a dark
expression from where she sat, rubbing at her right shoulder. There was blame and anger in her gaze, both
of which he chose to ignore. Instead, he
hit his radio.
"Major?"
he waited a couple of minutes, then tried again, "Major Sheppard,
respond."
His eyes lifted to
meet Teyla’s when he still didn't receive an answer, and saw hers lower to the
ground.
He tapped his radio
again, "Stackhouse, do you read me?"
"Yes
sir."
"Stackhouse, the
Major’s not responding. Can you see
anything from up there?"
"We saw a
flash of very bright light inside the hole in the roof, sir, about the same
time we saw all of you dive out of the dome.
Are you all right sir?"
"Yes, we’re
fine. A few of the Deucalions have been
hurt…" he trailed off, looking into the dark interior of the dome. To his relief, he saw Colonel Luphron shaking
his head and pushing himself up to his knees, while Lieutenant Che was reviving
the other three, "…but alive."
He looked up, saw the puddle jumper overhead and waved. "Go fly as close as you can to the hole
in the roof, see if you can see anything inside. I also think the shield protecting it might
be…."
"Yes, it’s
gone sir. I…yes, the ship is reading…two
life signs inside. They’re still alive,
sir!" There was no hiding the joy Stackhouse felt at this information.
Ford couldn’t resist
a grin of his own, "That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long while
Stackhouse. I’m going to keep trying to
rouse the Major, you--"
"The Major’s
roused," Sheppard’s weak voice interrupted over the transmitter.
________________________________________
The phrase "hit
by a Mac truck" crossed his mind as Sheppard groaned and rolled onto his back,
staring up at the now luminescent hole in the ceiling. The room was completely dark with the Weapon
shut down, something not helped by the color of the walls, and it accentuated
the brightness of the sunlight. There
was a surprising lack of dust motes--this place was disgustingly clean.
He listened to Ford
talk to Stackhouse for a moment over the radio, bringing his memory up to
speed, before nudging the transmitter on his radio to announce that he was
awake. Sort of.
His head was
hammering like he’d been downing tequila shots while head banging at a
Metallica concert….Oooh that thought brought up some nasty high school
memories….
With another groan
he rolled onto his front this time and worked on getting his feet under him,
which every muscle in his body seemed to protest by overloading his pain
sensors. Ignoring them, he pushed up on
his haunches, using the console for leverage, and let his eyes adjust to the
now near darkness. The glow that had
been infusing this room from indefinable sources had gone completely out, so
his only illumination was the sun through the roof.
He heard Stackhouse
saying something about flying closer to the hole, and suddenly a shadow covered
it.
"Back off,
Stackhouse," he croaked into the radio.
"That’s my only light."
"Sorry
sir." The shadow fell back. " Just tell us what you
need."
"I will. Sheppard out." And he shut the radio off.
Turning, he sought
McKay in the shadows.
Relief surged
through him to see the doctor still in that chair…still with him. He’d been half afraid he’d wake up by
himself. Sunlight from the roof placed
McKay’s right arm in stark relief from the rest of him…and it also showed the
metal cuffs had been opened.
Shoving off the
console, he used the momentum to stagger over to the scientist, leaning heavily
on the arm of the chair when he got there.
He felt weaker than a kitten, and was drawing on reserves of adrenalin
to keep himself going.
"McKay,"
he whispered, reaching out with one hand to touch the scientist’s face. It was ice cold. "McKay, can you hear me?" He let his hand drift down and pressed his
fingers to the side of the man’s neck, unconsciously holding his breath.
It seemed like hours
before he realized he could feel a very faint pulse. It was erratic. Not good.
Leaning forward, he
put his ear next to the man’s mouth, closing his eyes.
The faintest sound
of breathing. But he was breathing.
Sheppard almost
collapsed from gratitude.
Straightening, he
tapped the radio again.
"Captain Dunne,
you read me?"
"Yes sir."
"I need you to
dial Atlantis. Tell them we need a
medical team here immediately. Doctor
McKay is critically hurt and I very much doubt they have the facilities here to
help him."
"Yes
sir. What’s the nature of the injuries?"
"I…I’m not sure
exactly. Tell them…tell them something
like electrocution…or radiation poisoning…or maybe heatstroke…" his
fingers touched McKay’s frozen face again, "or hypothermia."
There was a pause,
then a tentative, "Sir, did you just say it could be heatstroke or
hypothermia? Aren't those sort of the opp—"
"Dunne!
I'm not a doctor! All I know is that he's dying and you're wasting time.
Just tell them to get here!"
"Yes sir!
Sorry sir. We’ll tell them."
"ASAP,
captain. Emphasize the critical
part. I don’t know how much time he
has."
"Yes sir.
Dunne out."
"Major, you need help up there?"
Ford’s voice asked over the radio.
"Probably,
lieutenant. I’ll let you know."
"Yes sir."
Sheppard stared at the
unconscious man in front of him, then down at the bloody wrists. His expression darkened.
"I probably
shouldn’t move you," he muttered angrily, "but like hell I’m going to
let you stay sitting on this thing."
Ignoring all of his
own aches and pains, he crouched and snaked one arm under McKay’s shoulders,
under his arms, and the other under his bent legs. Gritting his teeth, he lifted, expecting
Rodney to be heavy.
It was with some
surprise, then, to find he wasn’t as cumbrous as he looked. McKay was much leaner than his baggy clothes
suggested, and the Major ended up lifting him much higher than he intended,
forcing him to stagger back a step in order to keep his balance and not tip
over. With a grunt, he turned, his
burden safely ensconced in his arms, McKay’s head lolling against his
shoulder. Shifting a little, Sheppard
swiveled around and moved to lie the doctor down in the square of sunlight on
the floor.
With an incredible
gentleness, he placed the scientist down and pulled off his own vest and
jacket, rolling up the latter to use as a pillow. When he was done, he rested his head against
his chest, listening again for the pulse and to his breathing.
He only felt the
faint, slow pulse.
"Damn it,"
he hissed, settling himself into a seated position by McKay’s head. Removing the "pillow" he tipped
McKay’s head back to open his airway.
Placing his head next to McKay's lips, he listened again.
Crap.
"No you don’t,
McKay," he hissed, taking in a deep breath to prepare himself and letting
it out slowly, "I didn’t just possibly destroy one of the most powerful
weapons against the Wraith I have ever seen just to let you die now."
He took in another
deep breath, pinched the doctor's nose shut, then leant over and breathed for
his friend. His eyes watched the
scientist’s chest puff up, then recede.
Taking in another deep breath, he repeated the procedure, then leaned
forward to listen.
Nothing.
"No, no,
no," he muttered, pulling in another breath. Twice more he tried to resuscitate McKay,
watching the chest rise and fall. Before
the third attempt, he pressed his fingers to McKay's neck.
Oh God.
He hit the radio,
panting a little as he spoke and feeling a little lightheaded.
"Dunne…tell Beckett
that McKay's not breathing and his heart's stopped. I'm going to give him CPR. I'll need you up…."
And that’s when the
Weapon woke up.
_____________________________________________________
CHAPTER
NINETEEN: POT SHOTS
Sheppard sat up
straight, his jaw dropping as the lights suddenly came back on, the crystals in
the console started flashing all of their many colors, and a white nimbus
formed once again around the chair.
"Ohhhhh
crap," he hissed, grabbing McKay's unresponsive wrist and arm without
thinking, as if he could drag him out of harm's way.
The white glow grew
and expanded, and the major braced himself, shutting his eyes as the light
enveloped him and McKay...and passed over them. Every skin cell felt like it
was on fire as he gasped and turned his head, watching as the white light
shifted across the rest of the room away from them.
It was searching,
Sheppard realized, for McKay. But it could not find him—because McKay was
dead. His fingers gripped the wrist tighter….
And felt a pulse.
He looked down, his eyes widening slightly. Wait a minute....
McKay was
breathing. It was coming quickly and
unevenly, but he was still breathing.
The Weapon must have shocked his system enough to get his lungs and
heart working again, bringing the doctor back to life. Thankfully, the thing hadn't paused long
enough to notice.
Well, that's irony
for you, the major almost smiled.
Sheppard got up on
one knee, twisting to watch the white light as it scanned through the rest of
the black room, and then crossed over to the white half to continue its
circuit.
Finally, it returned
to the chair.
Sheppard gathered
Rodney up in his arms, planning to pull him as far away from that thing as
possible. As he watched, the glow
started to swell again, but in intensity, not size.
"Sir," Ford's voice said over the
radio, "Sir, can you hear me? You were cut off. Stackhouse just said he saw another burst of
light, and that you and McKay are now off his sensors again. What's going on? Are you okay?"
"Umm, that
remains to be seen, lieutenant," the major replied, squinting now at the
brightness. "On what this thing
is…well…doing."
"Thing, sir?"
"The
Weapon. Um, turns out…it's sort of
alive." And burning his
corneas! He raised his free to block the
bulk of the light, turning his eyes away, unconsciously drawing McKay closer to
protect him. He could feel the edges of
the Weapon now, pins and needles sparking all up and down his body.
There was a pause,
then, "Alive, sir?"
"Yeah.
And…oh…it's…is anyone still inside the dome, lieutenant?"
"No sir."
"Good. Because…yup, I think its going to fire at
something." A sudden horrible
thought occurred to him, and he grabbed the radio in his urgency as he finally
closed his eyes against the brightness, "Stackhouse! Get the Jumper out of here! NOW!"
Almost
simultaneously, the White Light burst out of the room, firing straight up.
__________________________________________
"SHIT!"
Stackhouse screamed, getting Sheppard's warning just in time as the Weapon's blast
aimed straight for the hovering ship.
Speed and a little help from Greene pirouetted the somewhat unwieldy
Jumper 360 degrees, sending it spinning around like a car skidding on ice away
from the dome. The White Light impacted
with the top of the Illusion over their heads, and dispersed.
"What the hell
was that!" Stackhouse shouted, regaining his balance as the jumper
trembled to a halt several hundred yards away.
__________________________________________
Before Sheppard
could answer, the Weapon fired again.
__________________________________________
"Look
out!" Tanner shouted, seeing the build-up of power on the jumper's display
this time just before the second shot was fired. Stackhouse gunned the puddle jumper towards
the opposite end of the Illusion, his grip on the controls as tight as he could
make them. The second blast from the
Weapon missed their tail by inches.
The third shot burst
right in front of them, lighting up the Illusion wall, and it was only Greene's
mental command for the ship to come full stop that saved them this time.
"Good
brakes," Tanner exhaled, his hands braced against the console.
Stackhouse didn't
stop, he just whipped the jumper around, then up, trying to climb out of the
Illusion's walls before the Weapon fired again. The puddle jumper actually shuddered with
the speed he was forcing out of it over such a short time.
They blew through
the top of the Illusion just seconds before the fourth shot hit the edge of
it. Greene's eyes widened as the readout
displayed the Weapon's power dissolving in an explosion of white across the top
of the false hill. Thank god it couldn't
breach the Illusion's walls.
"0 to
600," Stackhouse sighed, leaning forward over the controls, as he let the
ship slow down, "in a nanosecond.
Good boy, Jumper one," he patted the console, "good boy."
__________________________________________
After the third
shot, Sheppard put McKay down and jumped to his feet, lunging for the chair,
not even noticing the frost-burn on his skin as he fell into it, closing his
eyes as the Weapon wrapped itself around him like a blanket of dry ice.
He felt the fourth
shot being fired at the Jumper, but however much mental exertion he tried to
use to stop it, he couldn't make a connection.
"I'm
here!" he shouted desperately at the room, "I'm in the damn
chair! Come on!"
The Weapon geared up
again to fire at something else now, and Sheppard could feel its anger…and its
frustration at having missed the Jumper.
He sensed it had never aimed by itself before. It was like a child with a submachine gun in
its hands. It could fire, but it
couldn't hit the broadside of a barn—but the damage it could wreak on the rest
of the farm was unimaginable.
"Stop taking
pot shots," the major hissed, opening his eyes and watching as the whole
city of Deucalion appeared in a projection above his head—the Weapon was
looking for a new target. "I'm here, damn it! Talk to me!"
And suddenly, it
did.
It swept through
him, and he gasped, his eyes widening at the sensation of having the Weapon's
single-minded thoughts impress upon his brain.
Who are you? Where
is the guide? I have not fired six
times. I must fire six times, or take
the one who was guiding me if he is dead. Who are you? Where is the guide. I have not fired six times. I must fire six times, or take the one who
was guiding me if he is dead. Who are
you? Where is the guide? I have not fired six times. I must fire—
"Okay!"
Sheppard gasped at the broken record in his mind, "I get it. Stop repeating yourself."
Who are you?
"John
Sheppard. And look—"
Where is the guide? Where is Doctor Rodney McKay?
"He's not
here. I am. Look, you said—"
I have not fired six times. I must fire—
"Like hell you
haven't fired six times! I counted four
more shots just then! That's a total of
nine!"
But I missed.
I need the guide. I must fire six
times or take the one—
"Listen to
me! You can't have him. You just have me."
I can not start over yet; I cannot yet
reset. I must fire six times or take—
"I'm not asking
you to start over, damn it. I'm asking
to stop! The Wraith are gone. There is nothing to fire at!"
I must fire six times or take the one—
"Okay, okay, I
said I got it! Stop telling me
that." He panted for a breath,
feeling the same rib crushing pressure that Rodney had felt. He licked his dry lips, knowing innately that
the Weapon was dehydrating him just as it had done the scientist. He had to think of something.
"Look, I'll
make you a deal. Let me guide you. Fire the sixth shot and—"
No. It
must be the guide. It must be Doctor Rodney McKay. You can not take his place. That is not the way. I must fire six times or take….
"Not the
way?" Sheppard's voice rose in
pitch on the last word. "You just
fired four times on your own! Are you
telling me that's the normal way of things?"
No response. Sheppard blinked rapidly, trying to stop his
now watering eyes from actually sending tears down his face.
"Still
there?" he asked after a moment. He
knew it was—it was still weighing on him—but it seemed arrested somehow.
No…the way has changed. I was shut down before the sixth shot was
fired. The guide disappeared before he could be absorbed. The way is not the way anymore.
"Exactly! So
how about we—"
Then there is nothing to stop me. I can destroy everything.
"Woah, woah,
woah! Hold on there. Why?"
That is what I do.
"No! No it's not!
What you do is destroy Wraith ships.
You don't destroy anything else."
That is what the guide limited me to; I no
longer have such limitations. I destroy,
that is all.
"No, that is
not all, damn it! I refuse to believe
that. You can obviously think for
yourself, which means you can do more than just destroy! And, look, even if that were the case, then
why are you talking to me? Why try to
convince me?"
Again, silence
answered him. Sheppard swallowed. He wished Beckett could have developed a Weir
gene as well as the ATA gene he gave McKay.
He could use her skills right now.
He honestly had no idea if he was making headway, or making things
worse.
Of course, could
they actually get worse?
You're right.
I can kill you as well.
Oh for the love
of….Why the hell did he think things like that without any wood around to knock
on?
But I don't want to.
"Oh?" It came out as a bit of a squeak. Sheppard really had no better answer than
that.
I have never talked to anyone before.
The major's eyebrows
lifted, "Really?"
I have only been guided.
"Oh," he
took in a breath. The Weapon seemed less
oppressive now. He could work his lungs
a little better.
I like this new way. I like talking. I want to keep talking.
"Ha!"
Sheppard forced a smile, "Then you don't just want to destroy, then, do
you? Because if you destroy this city, and
if you kill me right now, there will be no one to talk to. You get me?"
Another pause. This time, it was longer than before. Sheppard licked again at his dry lips. They had begun to sting.
"Hello?"
Will you stay if I don't fire again?
"Ah, no, I
won't. But others will come over
time. And there's that hologrammy
thing. You could talk to it, if it were
here."
I want you to stay.
"Yes, well,
that's not going to happen."
There was another
pause.
I don't want to kill you.
"Well, that
feeling's mutual."
Another long
pause. Sheppard tried to shift on the
chair, and, amazingly, the Weapon let up some of its pressure to let him.
I will make you a deal.
"Uh…what kind
of deal?"
I will fire the sixth shot, and you will help
me. Then I will let you go, and I will
go back to sleep. But you must tell
whoever next sits in this chair to talk to me.
To…treat me as if I am….
"Alive?"
Again silence. Then, after a moment.
I am alive.
"Yes, you most
certainly are." Sheppard grimaced,
wondering if the faint echo of the hologram's voice in his ear mockingly saying
"I told you so," was just in his mind.
It really hadn't
lied to him. Go figure. His respect for the machinery of Deucalion
climbed another notch. Shame there were
also people here.
"You have a
deal," he agreed.
Then pick the target.
Sheppard frowned for
a second…before a particularly evil smile graced his lips.
He tapped his radio.
"Ford?"
"Sir?" the lieutenant's worried
voice echoed back at him. "What's going
on! The Jumper nearly—"
"I know. Listen, tell the Governor she needs to
evacuate the people out of her office." His smile grew, "She has five
minutes."
________________________________________________
CHAPTER
TWENTY: LEAVING DEUCALION
The Deucalion looked
away, covering their eyes out of deference to the power unleashed by the Weapon
for, they prayed, the last time.
When it was over,
Ford peered towards the Governor's building…and couldn't hide the smirk.
The tallest building
in Deucalion had just gotten a hair cut.
Three stories remained, perfectly intact, but the fourth story, where
the Governor's office was, had been surgically and expertly shaved off. Black smoke and a handful of sparks rose from
the top of the third story—now the roof—and rose into the air to mingle with
the dying fires and smoke from the rest of the finally free city.
Next to the
lieutenant, he heard Governor Borin heave a sigh.
"Well,"
she sniffed, "I suppose I deserved that." Then, a little more softly, "A small
price to pay, in the end." She
looked askance at the tall young man, "It…is the end, right?"
Ford didn't answer
her, instead tapping his radio, the smile gone from his face.
"Major? Can you hear me?"
______________________________________
Sheppard gasped,
acutely aware of his racing heart and the spinning world around him. Every muscle seemed to spasm and shake as the
light faded to almost nothing around him, and his throat was sore. Christ—McKay had done that five times?! The hologram had been right—the doc was a
hell of a lot stronger than he appeared….
The Weapon touched
his mind again. Even that hurt.
Thank you, John Sheppard.
"You're…"
the major coughed and swallowed, the action barely creating any liquid inside
his dry mouth. "You're
welcome," he whispered, avoiding using sound altogether until he'd had a
chance to recoup. Even the air pushing
up through his vocal cords to effect the whisper had hurt.
Remember our deal
"Yeah," he
agreed, trying to swallow some more to get his voice back. "I'll remember."
And the white light
faded completely. The room went
completely dark once more.
"Crap," he
hissed at the near blindness that caused.
Pushing down on the arms, he tried to push himself up off the
chair. It took several rocking motions,
but he eventually pitched himself forward off the nasty contraption, landing on
the floor on his knees…hard. He stayed
that way for a couple of seconds, resting on all fours, letting his eyes adjust
again to the low illumination, before turning to McKay. The scientist was still bathed in the
sunlight streaming through the hole.
Relief surged
through him to see the chest rising and falling still.
He crawled over and
slumped next to him on his side, propping himself up on an elbow.
"McKay,"
he whispered, his free hand weakly prodding the scientist's shoulder. He didn't get a response, which wasn't too
surprising. "McKay, I…you can't
hear me, but….Do you realize…I nearly…destroyed a city for you? So…seems to me….you owe me. Meaning…don't even think…about leaving me
now." He grinned, prodding the
shoulder again. "At the very
least…you owe me…a good, stiff drink."
McKay didn't make a
sound. Sheppard eyed him a little
longer, then collapsed onto his back, lying next to the doctor.
"That's
okay," he whispered, closing his eyes, "you…can…pay me
later…."
The radio suddenly
came to life. It was possible it had
been working before, but it was the first time he'd actually heard it.
"Major, can you hear me? Major Sheppard, please respond." There
was a hint of panic in the normally calm voice of Lieutenant Ford.
Sheppard sighed,
and, somewhat reluctantly, tapped the radio.
His eyes opened to fix on the hole in the ceiling, watching the
occasional patch of smoke drift across the blue sky.
"I'm
here…," he replied, feeling oddly serene.
"Sir!
Thank…It's good to hear your voice sir.
Is everything…I mean, are you…."
"We're
still…alive. Is that med team…here
yet?" Damn, why couldn't he catch
his breath?
"We're here, Major," Beckett's lovely Scottish brogue said over
the airways. Sheppard grinned—it was the
most wonderful voice in the world right now.
"I'm in Jumper 2."
"Jumper 1 has moved to cover the gate,
Major. We brought the doc and his team here as soon as they
came through the gate,"
Dunne's voice added. "We're currently just outside the Illusion's
walls. We, uh, heard what happened to
Jumper 1, sir. Is it safe to come inside
now?"
"Yup….Safe
as…houses. Come on…in!"
"Check."
"What about inside that so-called hidden
room of yours, Major,"
Beckett asked, a tiny tremble to his voice."
Can we come in there as well?"
"Come…on down,
Carson!" Sheppard replied, a little too happily. Punchy?
Was he getting punchy now?
"In fact…everyone come!
We…We'll throw a party!"
Yes, he was getting punchy.
"Err…Major?
That…I…um…oh dear…."
Oops. Didn't mean to scare the excitable man. Sheppard's strange humor disappeared.
"Beckett,
I'm…tired….Just…get here. And Ford…get
up here too…and bring….Luphron."
"Right." Beckett said, just as Ford
said, "Check."
Sheppard closed his
eyes, listening to the sound of orders being spun over the radio between the
different parties. He only opened them
again when a shadow covered the hole.
----------------------------------------------------
Sheppard watched in
a sort of daze as medical personnel ripped open IV bags, quoted vitals and
prepped McKay for transport. Beckett
started shouting words that only made the Major frown more and more, as
flashlights, the sun and the beeping lights of monitors and tiny machines
designed to help keep his friend alive all blended into a collage of confusion
before his eyes. He tried to follow
along with the information being given to him second-hand, but it was like
trying to follow the journey of a single drop of water cascading down Niagara
Falls.
Eventually, however,
he saw McKay lifted out of the room on a stretcher through the hole, presumably
up into the waiting puddle jumper. He
heard orders from Beckett over the radio for it to fly to Atlantis now, and for
Jumper 1 to come fetch the major.
While all this was
happening, someone had also stuck an IV in his arm and he realized he could
breathe easier. Only once the room
seemed quieter, though, did he notice that there were still four people hanging
about: Ford, Teyla, Colonel Luphron—the latter looking a little worse for
wear—and a medical doctor form Atlantis, a dark-skinned man he didn't really
recognize. It was another of Beckett's
medical team, but he had never gotten his name.
The doctor seemed to be talking to him.
Since he had his breath back, he gamely decided replying was possible.
"I'm
sorry," he muttered, blinking tiredly, "What did you say?"
"I asked if you
felt strong enough to stand," the doctor asked. "Jumper 1 is here to take you
home." Standing just behind the
young man, Teyla was looking worried.
"Um,
sure," the Major replied, staring at his legs. They looked like they would work.
But there was
something else he needed to do first, before he could leave. What was it again?
He looked up, and
saw Luphron watching him expectantly, his arms crossed. He also looked pissed.
Oh…right.
"Wait," he
said, holding up a hand and lifting his eyes again. They focused on the doctor, then at Teyla and
Ford, then finally the Deucalion colonel.
"Colonel…something important."
The tall blond man
squatted down next to him, his shadowed eyes frowning a little.
"What?"
the question was gruff.
"Something you
need to know," Sheppard pressed a hand to his head, grimacing at the
pounding it was making, "about the Weapon." His eyes closed, and it took some effort to
reopen them.
"We need to get
you out of here, sir," Ford said softly.
"You can tell us later.
They're waiting for us."
"This is
important, lieutenant," Sheppard hissed, before breathing slowly back in
again. His eyes had shifted to Ford when
he spoke, but now they turned back to Luphron.
"Colonel, the Weapon…it's alive."
The Deucalion stared
at him for a moment, then frowned.
"Alive? I…have read it has awareness of its purpose,
Major. But alive? No.
You are mistaken."
"I talked to
it."
This time, both
Colonel Luphron's and Lieutenant Ford's eyebrows rose.
"I'm sorry
sir?" The lieutenant glanced
sideways at the doctor, "Um, did you say you talked to it? You mean to the computer controlling the
weapon?"
"No…to the
Weapon itself," Sheppard grimaced, "And I…I made it a promise. Look…turn it back on."
"Oh no
sir," Ford shook his head vigorously, "I don't think that's a good
idea. What if it—"
"Wait a
minute," Colonel Luphron interrupted, his eyes narrowed. "Turn it
back on? Are you saying it is not
broken? I thought you had destroyed
it!"
"Broken?
Destroyed it? Ha!" Sheppard chuckled hoarsely, still
feeling extremely lightheaded and wondering if the spinning would subside soon,
"No. Just…rejoin the red
wire."
"Sir!"
"Yes
Ford?" Sheppard blinked up at the lieutenant. Aiden looked pained, and he looked even more
pained when Colonel Luphron stood back up and walked towards the damaged
console.
"The red
wire?" the Deucalion asked as he reached it. "That's all I have to do?"
"That'll power
everything back up. I need to talk to
the brown man."
"Brown
man?" Ford crossed his arms, and looked at the doctor again. "Sir, I don't think you're quite—"
"He must mean
the one we call the Truth Speaker," Luphron said, fingering on of the ends
of the severed red wire. "It speaks
to the volunteers and explains the way of things. I believe it is a projection
of some kind, like a motion picture. It is depicted as wearing brown."
"Look,
sir," Ford watched Sheppard blink slowly back up at him, "I'm sorry,
but I'm not sure you're thinking clearly.
If he turns it back on with the Jumper up there and us in here it—"
"I know what
I'm saying, lieutenant," the major said clearly, firmly, "and I know
what I'm doing. The Weapon will not
power back up, just the console, the room and the brown man."
Colonel Luphron
needed no further urging. He stuck the
two ends of the red wire together, and watched with bright eyes as the room's
lighting came back on. The low hum
returned, and Sheppard smiled as Luphron sighed in gratitude to find it was
just that simple.
"Thank the
Light," the Colonel whispered.
"I had thought…."
"Nah,"
Sheppard waved a hand in the air, "And in fact…I think I may have made
things better for you guys." He
words were slightly slurred. Luphron had
returned to watching him, his expression receptive now.
Ford, meanwhile,
found his thoughts had strayed. He was
truly seeing the hexagonal room for the first time, and was wondering if either
Sheppard or the doc realized it looked just like the inside of the fifth
doctor's tardis.
He shook his
head. Focus lieutenant!
"I hope that is
true, Major," Luphron said, still holding the ends together. "Now how do we turn on the Truth
Speaker?"
"By calling for
him. Oh, brown boy!" Sheppard
croaked, looking around. "Wake up!"
Both Ford and Teyla
were having a really hard time not thinking that the major had lost his
mind.
"Hologram!"
Sheppard called more loudly, "Mr. Brown, where are you!"
"Here, Major
Sheppard."
A form appeared in
the white half of the room. Colonel
Luphron almost dropped the two ends of the red wire he was pressing together,
and Ford automatically brought his submachine gun to bear. The medical doctor moved down closer to
Sheppard on the floor, ready to protect his patient bodily if need be, while Teyla
just adopted a fighting stance. The
hologram looked at the strangers, then walked through the glass partition
towards the Major.
"You were
right," Sheppard smiled at it, looking a little drunk, "The Weapon is
alive."
The hologram nodded,
"I considered the many conscious minds that have connected with it over
the years, as well as its energy source's unique ability to become the purpose
put to it by those minds…and thought that a likely consequence. I assume, then, that it came back to life
without the console?"
"Yup, it sure
did," Sheppard admitted cheekily, ignoring the open-mouthed stares of the
people with him. "And, as you
thought, it wanted to level the city."
Behind the hologram, the Deucalion's eyes widened at that
information. The hologram, though, just
nodded again.
"And how did
you," it paused, recalling the major's last words, "figure something
else out? I assume by the presence of
these people that you did, in fact, do so?
Did you, perhaps, let it take Doctor Rodney McKay?"
"Nope,"
Sheppard smirked, "I talked to it."
The hologram
blinked. After a second, it looked at
the other four people. Its face was as
surprised as theirs. When it looked back
at Sheppard, it tilted its head.
"Bull."
Teyla's jerked
slightly at the Earth phrase, while Ford couldn't resist a tiny grin. Sheppard, though, was shaking his
head…stopping quickly when he realized it hurt to do so.
"Not bull, Mr.
Brown. It's alive. I talked to it. We came to a meeting of the minds," he
smiled, "literally. Pretty nice conversationalist for a sadistic weapon of
mass destruction with OCD—a little, uh, repetitive at first, but it got over
that."
The hologram blinked
some more. "But I do not
understand. The Weapon does not
speak."
"Oh, outgrow
your programming, hologram! If the
Weapon can do it, so can you! Make the
connections in that pixeled brain and make this part of your repertoire. It's alive and it can talk!" Sheppard took in a deep breath…and started to
cough violently. The medical doctor was
instantly there, massaging his back and grabbing a bottle of water from his
pack.
The hologram waited
silently, waiting.
After a few minutes,
Sheppard was breathing evenly again, though the world was a little more
fogged. He realized innately that he didn't
have much time left before the fuzziness would take over and drag him out of
the game. Drawing a more careful breath,
he focused back on the hologram.
"Listen to
me," Sheppard wheezed, his voice sounding a little like a teenager's after
screaming all night at a rock concert, "You are going to tell the next
person who comes here and sits in that chair to talk to the Weapon. That's all.
And maybe…it'll help him destroy the Wraith and not kill him in the
process."
The hologram
frowned, "But the Weapon can't—"
"The Weapon has
more than one purpose, hologram, just like you.
It was taught to interact as well as to destroy. It has learned to talk, and, turns out, it
likes that more than wiping everyone off the face of this planet. If I were you, I'd tell folks to take
advantage of that."
"But this is
not logical. It has no voice. How can it—"
"Oh, it doesn't
need one. Trust me. And I'm the one speaking the truth, now,
hologram. Somewhere inside the part of
you that's connected to the same energy powering the Weapon and powering the
Illusion and powering everything in this room….you know that."
The other three sets
of human eyes looked to the projection after the major's little speech. It stayed focused on Sheppard, and they could
almost feel the computer running it absorbing and learning and understanding
what it had just been asked to believe.
And then it
smiled. Computers really were much
faster at this sort of thing.
"Yes, I
do. Thank you, Major Sheppard. I understand and I accept the change. The volunteers will be told to talk to the
Weapon. This is a great day for
Deucalion." It bowed, then looked
to the others, and bowed to them.
"Gentlemen and lady, the console will now shut down until it is
triggered again by the golden door."
He looked back at the major, a real smile on its face. "Goodbye, Major Sheppard…a true friend
and hero."
And without any
further ado, the hologram vanished. As
it did, all the lights powered down and the hum faded, returning the room to
darkness.
"Well,"
Ford said softly, looking around, "That was abrupt."
"Is it
over?" Teyla asked, just as softly.
Luphron, realizing
it was no longer to keep the red wires together, gingerly placed them
back. They could be repaired properly
later.
He smiled, turning
back to the four Atlanteans in the room with him, to thank them and the major
for everything that had happened.
He frowned to see
both Teyla and the medical doctor reacting to the fact that Sheppard had
finally succumbed to unconsciousness. He
eyes caught Ford's as the medical doctor called for another stretcher. The lieutenant backed away from the group,
aware that he really would only get in the way.
He stopped when he reached Luphron's side.
"Thank
you," the Colonel said softly, honestly, to the young man. "And please tell the Major and Doctor
McKay that the Deucalion people will forever be in their debt."
Ford grimaced, then
nodded.
They watched in
silence as Sheppard was shifted to the new stretcher and strapped down, then lifted
gently upwards. The doctor followed
next, and then Teyla. Ford walked over
to the rope and harness as it fell back into the room, and turned to look back
at Luphron. He seemed to be considering
something…and, finally, he shrugged.
"You, uh,"
he gave a small smile, "got any crops you might be willing to…trade with
us for?"
Luphron smiled,
"We'd be honored, Lieutenant Ford."
_____________________________________________
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE: ONE MORE WRINKLE
Sound.
People talking. No…shouting.
Machines beeping.
Rubber soles on
marble floors, squeaking.
Metal objects
dropped on the ground.
Blown air tickling
his nose.
carts crashing into
each other.
Antiseptic.
"Aw,
crap," Sheppard sighed, opening his eyes reluctantly. He was in a hospital.
He frowned when the
world came into focus, and he found himself staring up at a very un-hospital
like ceiling. It was actually a very
pretty diamond patterned ceiling, rising up away from him in a delicate way.
Okay…not a hospital
He smiled.
Home. Atlantis.
The smile fell.
The infirmary on
Atlantis.
"Double
crap," he mumbled, turning his head to one side. He was looking to the noise. It was what had woken him up. The sounds of people calling out to each
other, voices raised in worry and stress, feet running around in a small space.
Beckett's voice
above them all.
"Bloody
hell!" the doctor shouted,
"Stop doing this, you radge bastard!
Tara, get the crash cart!
Hurry!"
Sheppard blinked
some more, and rolled over to see more clearly what was happening on the other
side of the room from him. There was a
thin, gauzy curtain blocking his view, but he could easily see people moving
around on the other side, silhouetted by bright light.
"Rodney, this
is getting tiresome!" Beckett's strained voice yelled. "I can't keep rebooting you like a
damned computer! Stop it!"
"Ready
doctor," nurse Tara's voice called softly.
"If he survives
this," Beckett swore, "I'm killing him, you hear me?"
"Yes
doctor," the young nurse replied, handing him the paddles from the crash
cart.
Sheppard grimaced,
watching miserably as the silhouette of Beckett worked to start McKay's heart
beating again. It didn't sound like it was the first time.
A few minutes later,
John was propped up on his arm, leaning over the metal bar lining the edge of
the infirmary bed, letting its coldness against his bare arm remind him he was
alive. His fingers curled around the
smooth, metal surface, the tight grip turning his knuckles white. He stayed that way until he heard Tara
declare McKay had a normal rhythm and the tension behind the curtain seemed to
ease. When he let go of the bar, his
fingers throbbed at the abuse…not that he noticed.
Not long after,
Beckett, still swearing softly, walked out from behind the curtain, wiping the
sweat from his forehead. There were dark
circles under his eyes, and he looked almost as worn as the major felt.
Sensing the
scrutiny, the Scot looked up and met Sheppard's gaze. He smiled, and changed the direction of his
gait.
"Oh, hello
there Major. I thought you might come
around soon—you're recovering amazingly quickly, considering. Are you actually awake this time, or is this
just another semi-conscious eye opening?"
He walked over and sat…or rather, collapsed…into the small chair next to
Sheppard's bed. Blowing the air out of
his cheeks, he wiped his hand down his face, then put on a false smile to look
up at the hazel eyes focused on him.
"I'm
awake," John answered, then he looked away for a second. "At least, I think I am. Is this Atlantis?"
"Yup."
"Then I'm
awake."
"And how do you
feel?"
"Like strained
spaghetti, Beckett. And you?"
"Oh…," the
doctor waved a hand about, "you know.
Exhausted, stressed, desperately in need of a decent night's sleep. The usual." Blue eyes showed a hint of life after that,
but the look quickly faded as he realized Sheppard was looking towards the
curtain again.
"And how is
he?" the major asked softly.
Beckett's dour
expression locked back into place.
"How is
he?" the Scot shook his head, "I've honestly no idea."
Sheppard frowned,
turning back to him. Beckett had placed
his hands behind his head and was leaning back in the chair.
"What do you
mean?"
"I mean, that every
time I think I've made headway against whatever the poison is in his
bloodstream, something else breaks down."
He shut his eyes. "You were
remarkably astute in your description of his condition, Major. It's somewhere in between hypothermia, dehydration
and some sort of poisoning, though not radiation. It's more like an infection—some living thing
in his blood stream, not bacteria, that is attacking his internal organs one by
one. The hypothermia and dehydration I
could deal with. The poison…." He shook his head.
"What is the
poison?"
Beckett's eyes
opened and he sighed, sharp blue eyes focusing on the major. "Actually, I was hoping you could tell
me. You have…the same strange poison in
your bloodstream, though it doesn't seem to be doing any harm. What happened in that room? What exactly did you encounter?"
Sheppard grimaced,
then, as succinctly as he could, he told the doctor everything he could about
the Weapon. When he was done, Beckett
was staring down at his hands.
"And this
entity was alive?"
"Yup."
"Then it left
some of itself behind," the physician's eyes looked up. "And though it's leaving you alone, it's
killing him."
--------------------------------------------------------
Over the course of
the next day, Sheppard found himself visited by literally scores of
people. Even Sergeant Bates stopped by,
though he looked stiff and awkward the whole time. Weir's visit had been one of the best—she'd
patted his arm, encouraging a quick recovery.
Her face looked strained, though, making her seem older—being in charge
of Atlantis was aging her, and it was even more noticeable when the machines
behind the white curtain on the other side of the room went off again. This time, it was his kidneys. It was the third or fourth time since John
had first woken up that Rodney had nearly crashed on them again. They kept equipment like the dialysis
machine, the crash cart, a ventilator and others on constant standby.
The most
enlightening meetings he'd had had been with Teyla and Ford, listening to both
of them try to recall exactly what they had said to Rodney when he was
communicating with them in the Great Eye.
It took some work, but they figured out why McKay thought getting into
that chair was what they wanted.
Teyla had looked
devastated as she realized it had been her words, primarily. Ford just couldn't stop looking guilty. He'd muttered some self-hating words about
failing in his orders to protect the doctor, and Sheppard had a hard time
convincing him that circumstances had just been beyond his control. Truthfully, the whole thing had been beyond
all of their controls, and, based on McKay's lack of progress…still was. But, deep down, they still all blamed
themselves… especially Sheppard himself.
Eventually, it was
night again, and the major was alone in the infirmary with Beckett, the nurse
Tara and the dark skinned doctor who's name he just couldn't remember. He felt stupid asking, especially when he
learned the man had saved his life and also seemed to know a lot about him….He
had been hoping to here someone call the man by name, but not once did it
happen. He was beginning to think it was
a conspiracy.
Oh well.
He had propped
himself up on the metal bar on his bed again, and was watching the shadows
through the curtain as Beckett checked McKay's vitals. Rodney's lungs had stopped working this
morning, but apparently he was breathing on his own again, because Beckett was
talking with Tara about removing him from the ventilator.
Not long after that,
McKay's heart stopped again. This was
the second time in twenty four hours, and the third time since they had been
brought back from Deucalion three days ago.
Sheppard closed his
eyes, wishing he could close his ears as well.
He must have dozed
off, because, when he opened them again, he found Beckett sitting in the chair
next to his bed.
"You don't look
too comfortable there, major," Beckett smiled tiredly.
Sheppard leaned back
from the cold bar, pretending not to notice the imprint the metal had left on
his arms. Propping up the bed, so he
could see the doctor clearly, he looked towards McKay's curtained-off area then
back at Beckett again, eyebrows both raised.
Beckett sighed,
answering the silent question with a shrug.
"I don't know." He shook
his head, "to be honest, his body can't take much more of this abuse. At some point, I won't be able to bring him
back." He swallowed, "At some
point," he repeated, "we're going to have to let him go."
Sheppard stared
openly at the doctor, his jaw muscles flexing.
"You don't mean that."
Beckett grimaced,
and Sheppard could see the exhaustion in every line of the man's face. He
didn't look like he had gotten any sleep at all for days. And he probably hadn't.
The major leaned
back, staring up at the ceiling over his bed.
Beckett sighed, lowering his head and closing his eyes…just for a
minute, he promised himself.
Sheppard cursed and
mumbled something, and Beckett opened his eyes again.
"Sorry?"
"Just,"
the major sighed, "how could I have let this happen?"
Beckett frowned,
"I'm not following…."
Sheppard sighed,
"I just keep thinking, if I had figured it out sooner; if I had been in
there when Ford and Teyla were talking to him; if I hadn't let him try and fix
that thing without me there; if I had been able to get the truth from those
people faster…." His eyes drifted again to the white curtain across the
room, not noticing Beckett shake his head.
"I should have prevented this," the major finished, "It
should have been me, not him."
"Oh, dinnae gie
yerself in a’ fankle," the physician muttered, crossing his arms and
leaning his head forward to rest his chin on his chest, his eyes closing once
more. Sheppard blinked at him, not sure
he heard that right.
"What?"
"Oh,
nothing," the Scottish man replied, cracking an eyelid and waving a hand
about. "Was just muttering. Too tired not to slip into slang."
"Fankle?"
Sheppard couldn't resist a tiny smile, "Is that even English?"
"Not the
Queen's, no. Major, look," he sighed, "I was just saying you
shouldn’t twist yerself up in knots o’er this.
You did everything you could.
He’s as much to blame as you, and those Deucalion people e'en more
so." He closed his eyes again,
"But it’s up to me now…and it’s me that cannae figure it out." His accent had gotten thicker as he spoke,
and the words were heavily slurred, "Jes' need more time…."
The Major watched as
the physician slumped deeper in the chair, chin pressing more into his
chest. After a few moments, a soft snore
rumbled form his throat, and Sheppard smiled wanly. Leaning more up onto his arms, he looked out
across the quiet infirmary. Tara was
putting things away along one wall, while the young doctor he'd met back in the
hidden room appeared to be writing things down in some sort of log.
After a moment, he
sighed and sat the rest of the way up.
Watching Carson out of the corner of his eye, he slid his legs sideways
off the bed on the other side and prayed the marble flooring didn’t look as
cold as it did. Reaching for the blanket
on the bed, he wrapped it around his shoulders over the pathetically thin
hospital gown, then looked at the floor again.
He wiggled his bare toes, grimaced, and slid off the bed.
Tiny pinpricks of
pain from the iciness of the ground had him shaking his head in sadness. Nuts.
Turning, he made
sure Carson was asleep again, tugged the blanket tighter around his shoulders
with his right hand, and grabbed for the IV pole with his left. Pushing the tall pole in front of him,
wincing a little at the metal squeak it made and at the jelly-like feel of his
muscles, he pushed off the bed and shuffled away towards the gauzy curtain
hiding McKay.
Tara looked up as he
sidled passed, her eyes darting from him, to the back of Carson’s still
sleeping head, then back to the major.
He gave her a his best disarming grin.
A noise from the
right showed the young dark-skinned doctor standing up. Sheppard waved him back down.
"Know my
limits, not going far," he whispered, still bee-lining at his slow pace
for the curtain. "Just have to talk
to Rodney."
The doctor gave a
small smile at that, and sat back down.
Tara, meanwhile, still watching the major, walked over to a cupboard in
which they put some linens.
Sheppard wasn’t sure
what he would find when he finally rounded the edge of the curtain, but the
sight of the normally frenetic McKay lying completely still, hooked up to all
sorts of strange machines, was not it.
He’d seen people in the hospital before.
In combat, he’d seen plenty of blood and, to be blunt, gore, in field
hospitals, but this silent, desolate picture was a completely different level
of disturbing.
Releasing his jaw,
which he hadn’t known he was gritting until he felt the muscles around his
mandibles cramp, he walked up next to McKay’s bed and sat on the small chair
there. He wondered how many had sat here
today…or yesterday….Teyla, Ford, Weir, he could guarantee. Zelenka? Grodin? Maybe.
As he was thinking,
Tara materialized beside him. She
smiled, holding a blanket to her chest. Without a word, she leant over and put in on
his lap. She also put a pair of slippers
on the floor.
"My toes thank
you," he told her softly. She just
nodded and backed away, disappearing back around the curtain. Slipping his feet into the slippers, he
returned his attention to Rodney.
He looked the
same. There was a little more color in
his face than when he'd last seen him in that room, but it was just flush.
"Why aren’t you
getting better?" John asked softy, reaching forward to touch the man's arm
lightly. At least it was no longer icy cold.
"What’s wrong with you?"
"I have a
theory," the young doctor said, appearing on the bed’s other side and
causing Sheppard to jump a little.
"Though I haven’t told Dr. Beckett yet."
"Oh?"
"Well,
see," he looked down, "you said the Weapon was aware, right?" He
looked up, a frown on his face, "What if the residue of whatever the
Weapon left in his blood stream is also…."
"Aware of what
it’s doing," Sheppard completed, nodding.
"Yeah, and it's
trying to finish what the Weapon was supposed to finish. To kill him."
Sheppard nodded
again, looking back at Rodney's pallid features.
"And I was
thinking," the doctor licked his lips, "if you really could talk to
it before, maybe you could do it again?
Tell it to stop trying to kill him?
Because I really think that’s what is happening. Dr. Beckett saves one organ, and it simply
goes to try and shut down another…."
Sheppard looked at
him, then shook his head. "But
then, wouldn’t it be doing the same thing to me? You said I had it in me as well, right?"
The doctor’s
shoulders slumped, "Oh, yeah, I guess it would."
"I had actually
thought of that, you know," Beckett’s voice said softly as he walked
around the edge of the curtain, wiping sleep from his eyes and sounding more
awake—his brogue was less pronounced. He
gave a tiny smile to his younger associate standing there, "You shouldn’t
be afraid to come with me with ideas like that, doctor. I won’t dismiss them. Hell, it’s the best explanation for this, if
it weren’t for the fact that the same residue seems to have gone away in the
major."
"It's gone
away?" Sheppard asked, surprised.
"But yesterday you said—"
"Well, it's
gone now. No traces left—it faded away
last night while you slept. I suppose your
strength defeated it."
"My
strength?"
"Your youth,
vitality, however you put it."
"McKay's a year
younger than me."
"I know that,
but he was also in a lot worse shape that you, Major. You only fired that thing once; he did it five times." Beckett held up a hand, five fingers
outstretched, emphasizing his point.
Sheppard grimaced, then shook his head.
"I guess."
"Still, you
could try talking to it," Beckett shrugged. "Lord knows, nothing else we've done has
worked."
Sheppard nodded,
watching as both Carson and the dark-skinned doctor backed out of the curtained
area, leaving him alone with McKay. The
major sighed, turning his head back to his friend, eyes searching Rodney's face
for signs of animation.
He thought more
about what Beckett had said, about his strength, and frowned. It didn't ring true in his mind. The Weapon was a lot stronger than him—his
"strength" shouldn't make a difference, it shouldn't have been the
reason the poison went away. They were
all like deer in headlights to the Weapon—it really didn't discriminate between
healthy and sick. It killed with
equanimity.
But what if the
poison wasn't the Weapon, exactly? What
if it was the energy itself?
What if…what if the
poison faded in him…because he wanted to live? The energy adopted the purpose
put to it, right? If he wanted to live, and he did, then the energy would fade
once he basically recovered, it's purpose complete. Hadn't Beckett said he had recovered
"amazing quickly?"
But if McKay didn't
want to live….or didn't think he should live….
His jaw
clenched.
Damn it, if he was
doing this to himself….
Beckett would have
to stand in line.
But first….
Sheppard leaned
forward in the chair, staring at the line of McKay's face in profile. It looked so drawn and stretched, like it
belonged to someone else.
"McKay,"
he whispered, resting his arms on his knees, "Rodney, I need to talk to
you."
Not surprisingly, he
didn't get a response.
"Look, I have a
feeling that, though you don't seem able to, I think you can hear me. And there's something you need to hear. I
think some of the entity is inside you, and it's doing to you what you're
telling it to….to kill you. I want you
to stop that. I want you to think about
beating it— about wanting to live."
He waited a couple
of minutes, his eyes lowering to his clasped hands.
"Listen, McKay,
I don't understand…what's going on in there.
I'm guessing that Weapon messed with your head somehow, and maybe still
is, telling you its more important for you to die than to live." He looked up, at the slack features again,
frowning. "I only know that you're
insane to think that. To my mind, there
are at least two reasons, two very good reasons, why you need to
fight." He licked his lips, looking
off to the side as he spoke.
"The first,
and, believe me, I wouldn't admit this if you weren't unconscious, but….you
really are the smartest guy here. And
you know you are, McKay. Heads and tails above everyone else. They're all brilliant—Zelenka, Kavanaugh,
Grodin, that cute blond chick Stackhouse keeps hitting on, that guy you always
yell at because he's always about five mental steps behind you—but you work on
a level beyond all of them. I can't even
express how fast your minds works. I've
never seen anyone make connections between things that you do as quickly as you
do." He paused, taking a breath,
and his eyes returned to the man's face.
"And they need you, Rodney.
If Atlantis lost you, it'd send all of us back ten steps. What chance would we stand against the Wraith
without you there? I've gotten so used
to you be able to save the day with some amazing, genius scheme…so used to
believing that "McKay'll think of something"…losing you would be like…like
losing the starting pitcher the night before the world series begins."
Hazel eyes studied
the face before him. Not even a
twitch. After a moment, they lowered.
"And you'd miss
it too," he added softly. "You
love doing this, even though everything here scares the pants off of
you." He smiled, "You should
live for it, as much as it needs you to bring it to life. Oh sure, I can make it all work…but you're
the one who actually knows what it does."
Slowly, the smile
faded, and Sheppard sighed.
"The second
reason," he said, his fingers gripping more tightly together, "is
more personal." He jaw muscles
flexed, and he looked again at the unresponsive scientist. "Fact is, McKay," he looked down again, "I don't think
I…would do so well if you weren't here."
He gave a half smirk. "I
don't know if you've noticed," he looked up again, "but we have the
same sense of humor. You're the only one
who can keep up with me. Teyla and
Weir…teasing them is more dangerous than walking into a tigress' den and trying
to steal her cubs. You saw the way Teyla
reacted to the idiom thing—I had to apologize!
And Ford's a great kid, but he can't fight back either. When we first
flew over the planet, I was going on about g-force, and you should've seen his
face, he…." He trailed off, but
continued to smile. "Anyway, my
point is, you wouldn't have taken the teasing.
You probably would have found a way to get back at me, or just ignored
me in that way of yours that drives me nuts." He grinned stupidly, eyes focused on his
hands again. The smile faded as he wrung
them together, his eyes flickering back up to McKay.
"Listen,"
he swallowed, "with the exception of flying, I…have more fun fighting with
you than I have doing anything else, and I don't just mean since we've been
here on Atlantis. I haven't had so much
fun working with anyone in a long time.
If you left me here alone with the rest of these folks, I think….Well,
let's just say that, after a while, I'd probably be spending a lot more time up
in the air." He sighed, and his voice became softer. "When it comes
right down to it, if I somehow ended up stranded on a desert island somewhere,
and I saw that footprint in the sand…okay, first I'd probably hope it was a
girl, but after that…I'd hope it was you.
I have a feeling you're the only one who would keep me sane. We'd probably bicker and yell at each other
most of the time, and I'd probably hate your guts for half of that," he
flashed another quick grin that didn't reach his eyes, "but you would keep
me going. You would keep me…me. And I'd miss that." He shook his head, then leaned it forward
onto his hands. He chuckled and took in
a deep breath, his back expanding with the air, then released it slowly. After a moment, he lowered the hands away and
looked over at the scientist.
"So," he
said, finally, "what I guess I'm saying is, stop letting it kill you,
McKay. You're needed here too much. Wake up, answer-man, wake up and come
home."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
McKay stood there, staring
up at the hole in the ceiling of the black room, Sheppard's words ringing in
his ears. Wake up, answer-man, wake up and come home….
Sunlight streamed
down, blanketing him in its warmth.
He looked around,
saw the hologram watching him from the shadows, its brown eyes glittering in
the half-light, felt the stinging icy-heat of the Weapon all around him, heard
the pleading of the Deucalion's in the back of his mind, begging him to stay
and fix their machine.
"It's an
illusion," the hologram said.
"The major is not really there.
The real Sheppard doesn't want you to live. He wants you to die."
McKay's eyes filled
with tears, and he looked back up at the blue sky.
"He's not
there," the hologram pressed.
McKay frowned,
"But—"
"It's an
illusion. What you heard was not
real."
Rodney's head was
spinning, and he turned to look again at the hologram.
"Are you
real?"
"Yes."
The scientist
swallowed, and looked back up at the hole.
Suddenly, Sheppard's
face was there, framed by sunlight. He
was smiling down at McKay.
"Hey," he
greeted cheerfully.
"Hey,"
McKay replied, not hiding his bewilderment.
"You
coming?"
"Coming?
Where?"
"Where you're
needed. You coming?"
"But where is
that?"
Sheppard's head
tilted, "You know where. Now stop being
an ass, and take my hand." He
reached an arm down into the black room, hand outstretched. "Come on, I'll lift you out."
"But,"
McKay stared at the hand, blinking rapidly, "what about Deucalion? The Weapon?
The Wraith?"
"The Wraith're
already gone. We beat them. Time to go home now."
"He's an
illusion!" the hologram shouted.
"Don't listen to him!"
"Like hell I
am!" Sheppard shouted back. He made
a face at the hologram, then looked back at Rodney, his expression serious
now. "C'mon, answer man! You going to trust him? Or me?"
McKay stared at him,
then back at the hologram.
"Come on,
Rodney," the major waved the hand impatiently, "I need your help here
and I don't have all day. You want to
come home, you'd better take my hand.
Just trust me!"
"But,"
Rodney squeezed his eyes shut, his hands gripping into fists, "That's just
it! I don't trust you. I do
trust him more than you. He's never lied
to me."
Sheppard's smile
faded, the hand he offered, though, stayed dangling. After a moment, the major frowned.
"I've never
lied to you either."
"Yes you
did! You said you never leave people
behind! But you told me to sit in that
chair! You ordered me to die!"
Sheppard stared at
him, and, after a moment, he drew his hand back.
"Fine. Think
whatever you like about me and don't take my hand if that's what you're afraid
of. But I don't want you to die,
Rodney. I want you to come home. You're needed there. If you won't accept my help, then climb out
of this hole yourself. Don't stay here
just because of me, or because of him.
Climb out and come home—Atlantis needs you!" And with a final glare, Sheppard leant back
away from the hole and disappeared.
McKay lowered his
head, trying to think around the headache pounding in his skull.
"He left you
again," the hologram taunted, smiling a little. "He left you to die
again."
McKay's jaw firmed,
and he stared over at the projection. He
shook his head, "No, he didn't."
He arched an eyebrow up at the hole, the grimace still on his face. Turning around, he moved over to the
console…and climbed up on top of it.
"What are you
doing?"
McKay grabbed the
edge of the hole, finding his grip.
"I'm going
home," he replied, as he pulled
himself up into the sunlight.
---------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO: THE MEANING OF HOME
Sheppard jerked
awake when he felt himself nearly fall out of the chair he was sitting on,
feeling seriously disoriented. Grabbing
the blanket around his shoulders more tightly, he blinked the scum away from
his eyes and swallowed some of the dryness from his throat. He ached from having slept in a chair all
night, and it took him a few minutes to figure out why.
Oh right,
Rodney. He was sitting next to his
hospital bed.
He scratched at his
head and yawned.
And that's when he
looked up…and saw McKay watching him.
Hazel eyes widened.
"Rodney?"
he whispered, his voice filled with hope.
The blue eyes
blinked, but stayed open. The scientist's
dry lips lifted into a tiny smile.
"Rodney!"
This time Sheppard yelled the name, jumping up out of the chair and nearly
tripping over the blanket that fell off his lap. He grabbed McKay's arm, seeing the blue eyes
follow him up, then turned to face the rest of the room. "Beckett! Doc!
Tara! Get over here! He's awake!"
Beckett was there
first, stumbling around the curtain, fighting back his own yawn and looking
more grizzled than a bear. Tara didn't
follow him—instead, another nurse (who's name Sheppard was pretty sure was
Karen)—rushed up beside Sheppard to start checking machines. The young doctor came next, also wiping sleep
from his eyes and what looked like drool from his face. He actually had a yellow post-it note stuck
to his cheek, but Sheppard wasn't going to tell him that.
They pushed past
him, talking rapidly to each other and to McKay and taking down readings.
Still grinning like
a fool, Sheppard backed away, pulling his IV with him and one blanket.
McKay's blue eyes
followed him, never letting up on their fixed stare.
Until, finally, they
closed.
Sheppard's smile
faded, and he looked towards Beckett, trying to gauge his reactions. It wasn't until the doctor stood up and
turned to look at him, a wide smile on his face, that Sheppard let out a pure
whoop.
He was going to be
all right.
--------------------------------------------------------
About a week later,
the first of the Deucalion crop came through the gate. Ford oversaw its delivery, smiling proudly as
case after case of food was brought through.
He had his arms crossed over his puffed chest, giving a thumbs up to the
people upstairs watching.
Up on the balcony,
McKay was sitting in a wheelchair, leaning forward with his arms crossed over the
railing, his chin resting on top of them, taking everything all in with a
slightly bemused expression. Sheppard
stood next to him, bending over the railing with a foot on the lowest rung, a
crooked smile on his face.
Weir stood not far
from them, smiling beatifically as Teyla appeared through the Stargate, waving
up at them, a small box under her arm.
"There is not
much more," she called up. "Sergeant Stackhouse is dealing with the
rest."
Weir nodded,
"That's fine. Nice work."
Teyla grinned, and
headed over to stand next to Ford. After
a few minutes, and once Ford spoke a little with Grodin, both Team One members
turned and headed upstairs to the control room.
"Um,"
McKay said, still eyeing the boxes being carried through, "not to seem,
you know, untrusting, but, uh, how do we know this stuff isn't poisoned?"
Sheppard arched an
eyebrow at him, "What? Why would
they want to kill us now? We saved their
lives!"
"True
enough," McKay shrugged, sitting up in the chair, "Just hard to
reconcile, I guess."
"Ah, you're
such a worry-wart."
McKay paused,
turning to peer up at Sheppard with a surprised expression, "A what?"
"You heard
me."
"A
worry-wart?"
"If the shoe
fits…."
"Yeah, if it
belongs to a six year old," the scientist barked back, shaking his
head, "What kind of term is that
for a grown man?"
"I thought it
was appropriate."
"Okay then, if
I'm a worry-wart, you're a doofus."
Sheppard's eyebrows
lifted, and he looked squarely at McKay, "Did you just say, doofus?"
"If the shoe fits…." McKay grinned.
"Oh, you don't
want to go there, McKay."
"Would you
prefer," McKay looked up for a second, then grinned, "oh, I don't
know, lame-brain?"
"Lame….oh, you
asked for it!"
"Maybe
stupid-head is better," McKay tapped at his chin.
"Geek!"
"Dunderhead!"
"Egghead!"
"Halfwit!"
"Braniac!"
"Dumb ox!"
"Professor
Poo!"
McKay's eyes widened
at that last one, and, despite himself, he started to laugh. Sheppard's jaw dropped, and he tried to explain
something about accidentally combining the names of Mr. Magoo and Professor
Plum, but it only made McKay laugh harder.
Soon he was laughing so hard, he had to lean over in his chair, gasping
for air. Sheppard tried not to join him,
but it lasted about two seconds, and soon he was practically on the floor. Both men were completely oblivious to the
amused yet silent group of people watching them. Even down below, Grodin and the workers
dealing with the crates had stopped to look up.
"You're both completely
mental," Beckett's voice wafted across the control room, headed from the
stairs in back. "Fully
certifiable," he added, walking up next to Rodney and leaning over. "Keep breathing, Rodney, and calm down
now," he patted his back, "you're not well enough to laugh yourself
sick yet."
Sheppard's laughter
calmed a little at that, as did Rodney's, who was finding it a little too
difficult to catch his breath. Still,
soon enough he was grinning up at Beckett, his chest still heaving but looking
truly happy for the first time in days.
The physician smiled despite himself, shaking his head.
Still grinning,
McKay pointed at Sheppard, his eyes lit up, "Did you hear what he
said?"
"Unfortunately,"
Beckett smiled. "And it confirms
some things I've thought about his level of maturity." McKay started laughing again while Sheppard
mock glared at the physician, but Beckett ignored them both, kneeling down to
look more seriously into McKay's face.
"All right then, you had your fun, Rodney. Time to head back now."
"No, no,"
McKay waved him away, choking back his laughter, "I'll be good."
"Actually,
Doctor Beckett," Teyla said, walking forward from where she had been
standing with Ford. "I think Doctor
McKay should be here for this."
Beckett grimaced, but
stood up, "For what?"
"The Deucalions
asked me to give these to Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay," she said,
pulling the small box out from under her arm.
Rodney glanced up at Sheppard, and the major shrugged in reply.
Teyla walked to one
side and placed the slim box on the table next to one of the laptops. Opening it, she smiled, then looked across to
Doctor Weir. The head of the SGA walked
over, saw what was inside, then returned the Athosian's smile. Reaching inside, she lifted out two medals,
both hanging from identical burnt-orange sashes. They were both a pale bronze color and in the
shape of the many pointed star that had marked the floor of the Central
Courtyard. In the center of both, a tiny
white piece of quartz was embedded.
"I think these
are for you," she said, turning.
Walking over, she handed one to Sheppard and the other to McKay.
"They represent
the Deucalions highest commendation," Telya explained. "Colonel Luphron only regrets not being
able to present them himself."
They both looked at
them, and then looked at each other.
McKay smiled,
"Think the Deucalions are feeling a tad bit guilty?"
Sheppard nodded,
"Looks like."
"Think Ford
should have asked for more food?"
Sheppard grinned,
"Yup."
"Hey!" Ford
stood up for himself.
"He's just a
kid, though," Sheppard said to McKay, his expression serious again. "Still learning."
"True."
"Hey!"
Ford said again, looking a little baffled at the same time.
"Teyla was
there too," Sheppard noted, fingering the orange sash. "She probably could have done better as
well. Could have gotten more than food,
I expect. Who knows what items we might
have gotten?"
The Athosian's jaw
dropped, and she drew herself up.
"Major, I will have you know—"
"Well, she's
young too," McKay shrugged.
"I am not
young!" she retorted, then frowned, "I mean, that is, I am not—"
"They're
teasing you," Weir informed her softly.
"Of
course," McKay was still watching the Major, "Elizabeth herself knew
what Ford and Teyla were negotiating for.
For all her great experience, you'd think she could have encouraged them
to—"
"Okay,"
Weir interrupted, stepping up closer to them, "You have had your fun
now. Doctor Beckett, perhaps you should
take—"
"Cutting me
off," McKay said, shaking his head at the major, "Isn't that a sign
of someone who is afraid to hear she might have done better? Classic defense mechanism."
"Oh,
absolutely!" Sheppard agreed.
Weir's lips pursed,
and she crossed her arms, "Are you two done?"
They looked at her, then
back at each other, and grinned.
"So
sensitive," Sheppard told McKay.
That was all it took to set the doctor off laughing again…only to have
it degenerate into a nasty cough.
Beckett sighed, and
he grabbed the handlebars of the wheelchair, twisting it around towards the
direction of the transporter on this level.
McKay's coughing subsided, his chuckling returning even though he
couldn't see Sheppard anymore.
"Right, that's
enough," Carson snapped at the major's grinning face. "I'm taking him
away now. It's obviously too dangerous
to his health for you two to be in the same room." Beckett pushed away, and McKay had to grab
the arms of the chair to keep his balance, nearly losing his medal. As such, neither man saw the flash of pain
that crossed Sheppard's face at Beckett's words. He quickly covered it back up with a grin
though, as McKay turned in the chair and gave a silly wave.
"Bye!"
Sheppard waved in
return, while everyone else either smiled or laughed.
"It's good to
have him back," Weir said, smiling softly over at Sheppard as the two men
disappeared, "even if he and you are as obnoxious together as
always."
"Yeah,"
the major replied, his smile fading.
Weir frowned at the sudden seriousness, but before she could ask what
was bothering him, he had turned around to look down at the main room,
fingering the ugly Deucalion medal held loosely in his hand. He was just in time to see the event horizon
shut down behind Stackhouse, carrying the last box.
His eyes lifted to
the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows behind the Stargate,
the beautiful sight hidden whenever it was open. A sense of calm blanketed him, and he
smiled—for some reason he didn't quite understand, seeing them meant hope to
him.
"Yeah," he
muttered, "it's good to be home."
The End
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