Entanglement

by Martha Wells

  "I don't know. Unless she's got fur or scales or something under that suit." Teyla looked up sharply, her brow furrowed in worry, and John said, "That was supposed to be a joke."

  "She said we shared the Creators as a common ancestor. She must be very close to human." Teyla shook her head helplessly. "She sounds entirely human. And I think she is harmless to us."

  "Yeah, probably," John found himself reluctant to admit it. They had just gotten burned too many times in the past. "But we don't know what the rest of her people are like."

  "I should ask more questions," Trishen was saying. "When I return, our historians will be very angry with me if I have no answers for them." She made a vague gesture back toward John and Teyla. "I don't even understand how your hierarchy is organized."

  Rodney began, "Yes, of course. I'm head of the expedition's science team, and our-" John cleared his throat pointedly. It was mission policy not to go into detail about their organizational structure on short acquaintance, and he wasn't ready to relax the restriction on that yet. Rodney threw John a glare, not happy to be reminded, and finished, "But if you could tell me more about the collection method you used for your energy readings-"

  As they reached the ship, Zelenka's voice in John's headset said, "Colonel, I'm hoping it is still okay to talk, but your transmissions are breaking up very badly. If you remain close to the Mirror, we will not be able to hear you.

  John said, "Copy that," and clicked an acknowledgement.

  Trishen touched a control on the black data device, and the round hatch started to rotate, spiraling open instead of sliding up in one piece. John caught Rodney's eye, telling him with a slight jerk of his head to hang back. Rodney huffed impatiently but fell back a little, obviously torn between eagerness to see the inside of the ship and the paranoid caution they had all had beaten into them by life in the Pegasus Galaxy.

  The open hatch revealed what a seemed to be a standard airlock, except the walls were dark-colored, almost matte black. Following Trishen's lead, John stepped in, seeing it was big enough for all of them without crowding, which was a relief. He signaled Rodney and Teyla to come in, noticing the controls were recessed into the wall surface, barely visible.

  The outer hatch shut and the lock cycled quickly, and John's ears popped again. Rodney was bouncing with impatience. As the inner hatch dilated open and Trishen moved inside, John took hold of the handy strap on the back of Rodney's tac vest, making certain he remembered to let John go first.

  The interior was poorly lit, the light purple-tinted, and if John hadn't been already used to the relative dimness outside he would have been temporarily blind. The funny smell struck him next, even filtered as it was through the SCBA's breathing mask. It was peaty and rich, like walking into the organic fertilizer storage bay in the Botany lab. Not unpleasant, just different and not what he had been expecting. As Rodney and Teyla stepped in behind him, John looked around, squinting, still wary, seeing that the walls were a dark purplish rubbery substance. Teyla was looking around too, frowning uncertainly. There was a scatter of weird-looking tools and equipment near a wall cubbie, as if someone had been making a repair. Trishen was fussing with her suit, gesturing around a little anxiously with the air of someone hoping her guests would excuse the mess. She said, "The atmosphere in here should be breathable for you, since we can both tolerate the air inside the pressurized portion of the installation. I've been lucky that none of my environmental systems were damaged." She laughed a little nervously. "Though I didn't know what I would do if I was trapped here long enough to run out of provisions."

  Deeply preoccupied, Rodney said, "We have plenty of food in the jumper." He was standing near the center of the space and looking upward. John stepped up beside him and saw a shaft that ran straight up through the ship, with arching struts and supports that gave it the look of a gothic cathedral. Turning back to Trishen, Rodney continued, "And if we're compatible enough to tolerate the same oxygen mix, then we should be able to-" Rodney's voice climbed an octave and the sentence ended on a gasp.

  That made John whip around, jerking the P-90 up, made Teyla turn automatically and lift her weapon.

  Trishen was taking off her helmet, silver hair spilling out in a long braid as the back plate opened. Teyla gasped with astonishment and horror, and John saw what Rodney had seen, the dead-white paleness of Trishen's skin, glowing even in this bad light. He whispered incredulously, "Son of a bitch." In the next instant she had lifted off the helmet and he saw her face clearly, the gill-like slits to either side of her nose, the glimpse of malformed teeth past her pale lips. John snapped, "Don't move," and stepped in front of Rodney, backing them both up until he was even with Teyla, Rodney behind them.

  Trishen stared blankly at the guns pointed at her. There was surprise in the yellow slit-pupilled eyes, and that just pissed John off all the more. She said, "I don't understand." Her voice was hushed, but without the distortion of the helmet's comm unit, it was obviously a Wraith's voice.

  Behind John, Rodney choked out, "This can't-This can't-" He burst out, "Tell me we're not this stupid!"

  "We are this stupid," John said through gritted teeth. "Look, Trish, sorry we can't stay, but unlock the hatch or I'll blow your damn head off." He didn't know why he hadn't already killed her. He told himself it was a bad idea to fire enough rounds to kill a Wraith in the small confines of this cabin. But he knew it was because she was small and female and unarmed, and staring at him with this look of fear and betrayal, and he just couldn't make himself pull the trigger.

  Trishen whispered, "It isn't locked. Just touch the control pad beside it." She stood frozen, still holding the helmet. "I don't understand-"

  John didn't want to hear it. He said, tightly, "Rodney."

  Rodney unfroze and ducked back to the hatch, and a moment later John heard the airlock start to cycle. He felt the tightness in his chest ease a little; he had been certain she had done something to seal them in here. Now all they had to worry about was more Wraith dropping out of that shaft leading into the upper levels of the ship.

  Sounding sick, Teyla said, "Colonel, this is not possible."

  "I wish, Teyla, but it really is." Teyla should have been able to tell Trishen was a Wraith, and the fact that she hadn't was just one more kick in the ass. John heard the hatch open behind them and Teyla pivoted to cover it. "Rodney, can you fix it so she can't trap us in there?"

  "On it," Rodney muttered, and John heard thumps and a weird tearing noise.

  Trishen shook her head a little, still pretending incomprehension. "I wouldn't do that. Why would I-"

  "Sorry, but you're just going to have to do without these provisions," John said with acid emphasis.

  "Got it," Rodney said, his voice tight. "I can only override the outer door's safety for a few seconds, so hurry. On my mark...Go!"

  John felt the rush of air pouring out as the outer hatch spiraled open. Still covering Trishen, he took two long steps back as Teyla and Rodney ducked out, then turned at the last second and leapt through the closing hatch.

  Out on the Mirror platform, under the dim light of the gas giant, John backed rapidly away from the ship. He and Teyla kept their weapons aimed, but nothing lunged out after them. Breathing hard, Rodney flung up a hand in frustration, saying, "That ship, that was hybrid Wraith Ancient technology, I should have seen it!" There was rage and disappointment in his voice, both of which John got completely. Their cool alien contact had turned into just a frigging Wraith trap. Though at the moment John was still in the rage end of the spectrum. "That textured wall material is an organic, the same thing they use on the interiors of the hiveships and cruisers! I can't believe-hybrid Wraith and Ancient tech!" Rodney finished miserably, "We could be very, very dead, and by we I mean all of humanity."

  "It's got to be new," John said. Past the adrenaline rush of rage, he was starting to realize just how bad this was. This ship could see through the jumper's cloak. Rodney right, we are so screwed. As they moved further away from t
he ship, John tapped his radio. "Zelenka, can you read me?"

  The answer came readily, though so thick with static John could barely understand him. "Yes, yes, Colonel, what is wrong?"

  "It was a trap, she's a goddamn Wraith," John told him. "Move the jumper, now, just get it out of there. Send a message to base camp when you can. I'll contact you when we're clear."

  Zelenka sounded flabbergasted. "Yes, we'll move it. But-But how can this be?"

  "When you figure it out, let us know!" Rodney snapped.

  "But I did not sense Wraith, even when I was looking right at her," Teyla protested, almost anguished. "How is that possible?"

  John shook his head. Teyla should have known Trishen was a Wraith the first time the shuttle appeared. Oh yeah, screwed. "She has to have something that blocks your Wraith-sensing thing, like the shielding on her ship."

  "Hello, that doesn't make sense!" Rodney protested.

  John wasn't in the mood for an argument about semantics. "Whatever, Rodney, you know what I mean!"

  Rodney began, "But-" Then a tremor traveled through the pavement under their feet and John heard a low rumble, like distant thunder. Rodney snarled in frustration, "Oh fine, now the Mirror's discharging!"

  "Run," John ordered and they bolted. They made it through the cargo door before the tremor started to escalate, but the open corridor didn't provide any protection.

  Over the growing rumble, Rodney yelled, "Keep going, find the nearest side corridor!"

  John had noted the last branching passage that wasn't sealed off. He found it just past the first angle in the main corridor, an empty doorway with a shattered blast door, leading into darkness. John flicked on the P-90's light to see it was filled with broken crystal and stone debris. They could get trapped down here if the end was blocked, but from Rodney's increasingly urgent gestures, there wasn't time for another choice. They managed to get about twenty yards down it when the rumble turned into a dull roar and the floor shook hard enough to knock Teyla off her feet. Rodney caught her, and John caught him, and they dropped into a huddle against the base of the wall. The shaking intensified, sending dust and chips of loosened stone down on their heads. John pushed them both down and huddled over them, covering his head with his arm, hoping the whole building didn't come down on top of them.

  But the shaking died away, the sound fading into silence, except for the pounding echo in John's head. He pushed himself up off Rodney and Teyla, pulling the P-90 up to flash the light across the ceiling. There was a network of cracks, still leaking a fine haze of debris, but no sign of imminent collapse. "You guys okay?" he asked. The breath mask had mostly kept the dust out of his mouth and nose, but his eyes burned with it, and the violent shaking made him feel like he had been pummeled by something.

  Rodney sat up and sneezed, shifting his mask awkwardly. "You kneed me in the back and Teyla's P-90 hit me in the eye," he reported, "But other than that-"

  "We are fine," Teyla finished, wincing as she held a hand to her head. "I-"

  She took a sharp breath, and John looked at her worriedly. "What is it?" He didn't think any of the dislodged stone had been big enough to cause a serious injury, but-

  She rolled her eyes and said wearily, "Now I sense Wraith."

  Rodney swore. "Well, better late than never."

  John nodded grimly. Whatever Trishen had that could block Teyla's ability must be shut down now. And that was weird, that she had even given herself a name; none of the Wraith they had run into that had condescended to speak to their cattle had ever done that. He tried his radio. "Zelenka, do you copy?" No answer but static.

  "That last discharge is still disrupting the atmosphere," Rodney said, wiping dust off his forehead. "We're not going to be able to reach them for a while."

  More good news. John grimaced. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

  They all climbed to their feet, wincing, and Rodney said, "Yes, having failed to die in the moonquake caused by the Mirror's periodic bursts of quantum instability, we can now get back to running from the Wraith."

  "I do not understand why a female Wraith would come here alone," Teyla said, sounding bitter. She checked her P-90, adjusting the tangled strap. "We have always believed they were few, and never left the hiveships."

  "We couldn't read life signs inside her ship," John reminded her, starting back down the passage. "She could have had a dozen males and drones in there waiting for her to walk in with dinner."

  Rodney gestured in annoyance. "None of this makes sense. That ship, this elaborate story she told us. She couldn't have faked that data-She came through the Mirror." Rodney froze for an instant. "Oh, no. She came through the Mirror. She said we had a common ancestor-

  Startled, Teyla added, "She told us she had never seen people like us-"

  "She meant people who were this easy to catch," John said sourly.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  arson Beckett folded his arms, looking over Dr. Chandar's shoulder at the monitor. "I don't suppose you can tell what's happening up there from that thing." He was down in the Ancient monitoring room, watching the tech team work. The underground ruin wasn't exactly a pleasant place to be, with air that was stale and too warm, and inadequate light from the battery lamps, and he really should have returned to Atlantis by now. But he was anxious for word of Rodney and Sheppard and the others, and of the woman they had contacted, and at least here he could get the news first hand. The other teams still on the base moon were continuing their research for the moment, though the general feeling was that the sole purpose for this city's existence was as a support center for the Mirror installation on the other moon.

  Dr. Chandar, taking the question in a far less irritable manner than Rodney would have, sat back with a preoccupied frown. "Not exactly, no, but now that we know that this device is monitoring a Quantum Mirror, it's possible to interpret its readings more accurately."

  Carson frowned at the innocuous device. In the past day, it had begun to flash much more frequently, and he was finding it worrisome. "So just how unstable is the Mirror?" From Sheppard's last report, they knew the people in the other reality hadn't meant to use the damn thing, that their efforts to study it had probably caused the Mirror in this reality to activate. It all sounded very dangerous and uncertain.

  Chandar shook his head, his expression worried. "There is some odd variance in the readings. It's almost as if the Mirror's singularity is becoming increasingly unstable-"

  Carson flinched at a burst of static from his headset, the military channel suddenly alive with chatter. Major Lorne's tense voice overrode the others with, "All personnel, all personnel, we are evacuating immediately. We have incoming Wraith darts on sensors." He added sharply, "Move it, people, now!"

  "Bloody hell," Carson gasped.

  Chandar looked up, wide-eyed. "But-This system is uninhabited, the Wraith shouldn't have any interest in-

  "It's the Mirror, lad, they're after it." It was just as Rodney had said in the first transmission. The reactivated Mirror's bursts of energy must have drawn the attention of a hiveship, and the Wraith had come to investigate. Carson pulled Chandar out of his chair and shut the laptop. The techs were already scrambling to gather their equipment, moving with sternly controlled terror. "Now get your things and move!"

  Just as they finished breaking down the temporary lab, two Marines arrived to lead them to the jumpers. Burdened with a couple of bulky equipment cases, Carson followed the Marines through the narrow streets with Chandar and the others, fighting the urge to hunch his shoulders and duck. They were all sweating even in the cool air and one of the older techs, O'Keefe, was getting a bit red-faced with exertion and stress. Carson had been walking these streets for the past few days, and they had never seemed so claustrophobic and confining. He uneasily remembered his recent near miss, when Laura Cadman had pushed him out of the path of a culling beam, and she and Rodney had been caught in it. That had all turned out badly enough, though in the end they had both survived. He didn't thin
k they would be that lucky again.

  He heard the tense acknowledgements on the headset as Lome ordered Jumper Three, already loaded, to leave. Carson didn't see it pass overhead, but he heard the `gate activate. One of the techs recently arrived on the Daedalus said nervously, "They won't leave us, will they?"

  Audley, one of the Marines, flicked a disgusted look back at him, obviously not appreciating this sentiment. Carson didn't particularly appreciate it either, knowing just how far the military contingent was willing to go to protect the science team. O'Keefe, another Atlantis veteran, answered the man, gasping derisively, "Bloody unlikely."

  "They might dock Major Lorne's pay," Audley said, with acid sarcasm.

  The other Marine, Ramirez, just grinned and added, "Yeah, after the Colonel shot him."

  More Marines met them at the last turn, hurrying them out onto the plaza. Corrigan and Rousseau from the archeology team were still outside, tossing a last few cases into the already-cloaked jumper. As Carson's group started across the pavement, he heard the distinctive whine of a dart. Marines shouted, "Move it, move it!" and they dashed for the jumper.

  Everyone tumbled up the ramp, stumbling over the loose equipment, pushing forward to make room. Sergeant Benson shouted, "That's everybody, Major!" and the ramp started to lift upward. Carson sat down hard on the bench and Rousseau fell into his lap. She said breathlessly, "Pardon, Carson."

  "Quite all right, love." He helped her stand, then stepped over a couple of people to reach the cockpit.

  Lorne was in the pilot's seat, studying the HUD with a worried frown. "Major," Carson said, watching him anxiously. "What about Sheppard's team? Can you get a message to them?"

  Lorne glanced back at him. "I already tried. We'd just picked up a transmission packet from them when the darts showed up on longrange. I sent them a warning, but I don't know if they got it." He jerked his chin up at the HUD. "We've got lots of company here."