by Martha Wells
The Wraith turned away, then froze, staring upward. A shadow fell over the roof, and Rodney heard a rushing blast of wind.
Then everything dissolved into white light.
Rodney hit a soft rubbery floor, unable to even tense at the impact. His ears popped from the sudden transition to a pressurized environment, and he gasped in a real breath. He was in a room with dark walls, dimly lit. He lay sprawled next to Sheppard, who was half-twisted on his side; Teyla was a few feet away, a fall of red-brown hair partially obscuring her face. Alive, still alive. For now.
Rodney tried desperately to move and couldn't even twitch; the second stun had completely immobilized him. Where the hell are we? he thought, sick terror settling in his stomach. He knew they had been picked up by a transport beam, but a Wraith culling beam should have left him completely unconscious. He couldn't see Teyla's face, but Sheppard's eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in pain. If he was out, it was probably from that last punch.
Then a figure moved into his narrow field of vision. White hair, a Wraith... Trishen.
This.. .doesn 't make sense, Rodney thought, startled and incredulous. That noise he had heard right before the transport beam must have been her shuttle. She stole us from the other Wraith? That was more support for his theory that she was from a different reality, not working with these Wraith at all.
She hesitated, then slowly moved toward them. His heart pounding, Rodney concentrated on keeping his eyes slitted and his breathing even. They had always suspected that much of the pleasure Wraith took in feeding came from the terror of their victims, from attempts at resistance. He didn't think she would want to feed on them when she didn't believe they were conscious. This would be a very, very bad time to discover we're wrong about that.
Then she knelt next to Sheppard. Rodney went cold. He tried to make his throat work, tried to say something, to argue, distract her, stall, but the second stun blast had frozen his vocal cords. She reached out tentatively, cautiously, and lightly touched Sheppard's hair.
If she had been human, Rodney would have said her expression was caught between curiosity and wariness. She touched Sheppard's face, just above his right brow, then put the back of her hand against his cheek. She looked like someone daring to touch a sleeping tiger; frightened and aware this probably wasn't the best idea, but too overcome by curiosity to resist the opportunity.
Rodney felt a pain between his eyes that he was certain was an aneurism, then he remembered to take a shallow breath. She must have heard him because she started, jerking her hand back, looking around nervously. Then she pushed to her feet and hurriedly backed away.
Rodney shuddered inwardly with relief. He saw her glance around, lean down to pick something up. Then he realized some of their equipment had been beamed up with them. Oh fine, that's handy, he thought bitterly. Squinting, he could see the pile of their tac vests and SCBAs, at least one of the P-90s. She was gathering all of it, carrying it away. He heard a few thumps and bumping noises, then finally a low power hum.
He waited, tense and hyperaware of every sound, but she didn't come near them again. She said she had never seen a human before. If she was telling the truth, if her species really had been created by a band of refugee Ancients from this reality... We'd be like living artifacts, relics of an almost mythical past.
He just hoped she meant to keep them alive.
CHAPTER SEVEN
onon knew the others were dead when he heard Sheppard shout, "Wraith!"
The radio went to static and Zelenka slammed his hand on the console, shouting, "Rodney! Colonel, Teyla!" Kusanagi gasped in horror.
They stared at the useless screens while time crawled. Then the three life signs winked out like candles.
Kusanagi made a noise in her throat, pressing her hands over her face. Zelenka pushed out of his seat and stumbled out of the cockpit into the rear cabin; Ronon heard him retching.
Ronon just turned away. He stared blindly at the jumper's curved wall, his fists knotting. He should be used to this. He had seen so many people taken by the Wraith that it had all blurred into a haze of rage and pain and loss. He shouldn't feel it like this anymore. He didn't want to feel it like this anymore.
Zelenka stepped back into the cockpit, wiping his face with a cloth. "We must do something." He steadied himself on the back of the co-pilot's seat, dropping into it and studying the screens again. He said hesitantly, "Did it sound like... Did they have the chance to damage pulse generator, do you think?"
Kusanagi shook her head. "I don't think Dr. McKay would have had time-" She pressed her hand over her mouth and shuddered, then took a sharp breath. She managed to finish, "Time to get into the device. And there has been no discharge. It must still be operating."
"I can do it," Ronon said. Zelenka and Kusanagi turned to stare up at him blankly, and he explained, "Go up to the roof, see how far they got. You can tell me what to do to it over the radio."
Startled, Zelenka frowned at him, then looked at Kusanagi. She said softly, "It may be the only way." Ronon saw she had tears running down her cheeks, though she seemed unaware of them. "We can't leave the Mirror to the Wraith. If they can use it to get this superior technology-"
"Yes. Yes, we have to do this." Zelenka looked up uncertainly. "Perhaps I should go with you-"
"No." Ronon shook his head. He could see the little man was terrified of the prospect. And he had sworn to Sheppard that he would protect these two. He had also sworn that he wouldn't leave them, but he thought this was more important. "I'll move faster alone."
Zelenka hesitated, then nodded, his mouth set in a rueful line. Kusanagi turned back to the control board, awkwardly wiping the tears off her face. "You'll have to wait until they leave the area." She frowned at the life signs screen. The lighted dots were still moving around that section of the roof. Ronon allowed himself a grim smile. The Wraith were searching, trying to figure out what the three humans had been up to. That meant nobody had broken. Kusanagi said, "If the Wraith realize we were trying to sabotage the pulse generator-"
Zelenka studied the screen worriedly. "Surely they won't leave it unguarded."
Ronon bared his teeth. He was looking forward to the chance to deliver some payback. "Good."
John's first conscious thought was relief that he could draw a full breath. His second thought was that his face hurt. A lot. And his head. And pretty much his entire body. He heard Rodney say worriedly, "Shake him again. Careful, he might have brain damage."
John blinked, wincing. "How will that help if I have-" It hurt to talk. "Ow."
He managed to get his eyes open all the way when someone touched his shoulder. It was Teyla looking anxiously down at him, her hair in a disordered tumble and a darkening bruise on her cheek. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah, are you okay? What-" Wraith, John remembered. Gritting his teeth, he shoved himself upright. Rodney lay a short distance away, one arm flung over his eyes. He looked like he felt like hell, but otherwise he seemed unhurt. John looked down at himself, his shirt was torn where the Wraith had grabbed him, but there was no feeding mark. What do you know about that? They were all three alive and they hadn't been fed on, and John really hadn't been expecting that.
Their prison was an empty cabin, the walls and floor the same dark rubbery substance they had seen in Trishen's base ship. This place had the same smell too, earthy and a little acrid. There was an oval hatchway looking out into another compartment, but John could see the faint shimmer in the air of a force shield blocking it. He said, "We're in Trishen's ship?"
"We believe so." Teyla looked around the room, her expression grim. "Apparently she beamed us up, away from the other Wraith."
"Who stunned me twice, and yes, I have a migraine, thank you for asking," Rodney added, his voice tight. "We're in her shuttle, but I think it's docked with the base ship now."
"Great." John spotted something on the floor, a round blue thing, a foot or so inside the hatchway. He squinted at it suspiciously. "W
hat's that?"
Teyla's lips thinned. "It contains water, and some items that may be packaged rations."
John grimaced in disgust. The caretaker on the first hiveship they had encountered had liked to feed her human prey before she fed on them; Trishen must have the same taste. John rolled to his knees, and Teyla grabbed his arm to steady him. After a moment of dizziness, he managed to shove himself to his feet. Glancing up, he froze. "What the hell?"
The ceiling arched up into a circular dome, and in the center was a bulbous mottled purple thing, covered by a chased silver metal web. It looked organic and alien and possibly about to do something to them. Teyla looked up with a worried wince. "I do not know."
From the floor, Rodney said, "It's not a death ray, it's the rematerialization mechanism for the beaming device." He lowered his arm to peer suspiciously at it, and amended, "It's probably not a death ray."
"Okay." Probably not a death ray was likely as good as the situation was going to get. John looked around the cabin again, as Teyla stepped away to make a circuit of the walls. John didn't see anything that looked like an obvious surveillance camera, but the ship was too alien to really tell. And the beaming device thing worried him. He said, "So she could beam us out of here any time she wants." Into the thin atmosphere, with no breathing units. "Or beam something in here with us."
Rodney pulled his arm down again to give John an acid glare. "Yes, please continue to come up with as many horrible death scenarios as possible; really, it's helping my headache."
"You seem to enjoy it when you do it." John made it to the force-shielded hatchway, peering out into the next compartment.
"Yes, but when I-" Rodney gave in grudgingly. "All right, fine."
From what John could see, the outer compartment wasn't much larger than this cabin, empty except for open storage units set into the walls. The only visible exit was in the opposite wall, another oval doorway, with a sealed hatch. He stretched out a cautious hand, flinching back when the field zapped him. Wincing, he tucked his hand under his arm.
Teyla had crouched down, testing the field to make sure it went all the way to the floor. "I do not see any way we can get through this."
John nodded, looking down at her. "No equipment, no breathing gear, no weapons..." He lifted his brows.
She flicked him a rueful look and tapped her ankle, the gesture telling him that the Wraith hadn't found the knife she kept strapped to her calf. Right. It was better than nothing. He looked at the outer compartment again, and said, "Maybe she wasn't lying about wanting to fix the Mirror. Or maybe she just wants dinner."
Still on the floor nursing his headache, Rodney said, "The fact that this is the Pegasus Galaxy and the worstcase scenario is always a statistically likely probability notwithstanding, I don't think she's allied with the Wraith that arrived in the scout ship. They tried to question me about her ship, called it `alien,' as if finding it here was as big a surprise to them as it was to us. And I don't think she's like the Wraith of our reality."
Teyla pushed to her feet, turning to watch him dubiously. "What do you mean?"
"She was acting," John said, poking sourly at the force shield.
"Since when do Wraith act?" Rodney started to struggle into a sitting position, and Teyla moved to help him. "I don't think she was lying about never having seen a human before."
Frowning, John stepped over to him and leaned down, offering Rodney a hand up. "Why?"
Rodney gripped John's hand and groaned as John hauled him to his feet. Rodney eyed him a moment, then made an erratic gesture. "Some of our equipment was beamed up with us. She came in here to get it while you and Teyla were unconscious. It just didn't look like. ..she had seen a human before."
"Whatever. If they don't eat humans, they eat somebody else." John looked around again, frustrated. He hated being locked up. "You want to check these walls, see if there's any way to-"
"Wait." Teyla was staring intently toward the door. "Someone is coming."
John turned, stepping sideways so he could see into the outer compartment. The hatch was sliding up. Yeah, here we go, he thought.
Trishen stepped through the hatch into the outer compartment, stopping just inside it as if she was afraid, as if they weren't across the room and trapped behind this force shield. Instead of the concealing environmental suit, she was wearing a dress, purple-gray in the tinted light, with a utility belt around her waist holding various tools and pouches. She also had a silver wristband with control pads on it, like the others John had seen Wraith wear, but more compact.
"Long time no see," John said easily.
Trishen didn't come any closer. She pressed her hands together; if she had been human, John would have said she looked nervous but resolved. And he wished like hell she would stop doing that, stop acting like a person, because it was pissing him off. She said stiffly, "What were you trying to do to the Mirror?"
Rodney lifted his chin and folded his arms. "Why should we tell you?"
She blinked at him. "I know what you think I am now, I know why you were afraid. But I am not one of them. My species may appear similar, but we do not...use sentient beings for sustenance. I won't harm you."
John exchanged a look with Teyla, whose expression of grim skepticism said she wasn't buying this either. John said, "Okay. Then drop the force shield and let us out of here."
Trishen had the audacity to sound pissed. "I can't. I know you would kill me."
Teyla lifted her brows, her expression dry. "We would be fools to believe you when you can offer us no proof."
Trishen shook her head in apparent frustration. "I'm not lying! There are no humans in my reality. We know that the Creators tried to seed a human race at the same time they created us, but their early colonies died out from some sort of plague."
Rodney snorted with annoyance, giving them all a sour look. "Do you people have all day to stand here and argue this point? Because I don't." He turned to Trishen, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's stipulate for the moment that I believe you're telling the truth. If you don't intend to feed on us, what exactly do you want?"
She took a step forward, her fists knotting. "There's an array on the roof that has an effect on the Mirror's accretion surface. Were you trying to destabilize it?"
Rodney gave her a withering look. "Of course we were. And again, why do you ask?"
John shot him a glare and Rodney glared back. Okay fine, if she knows what the pulse generator is for then she probably already realizes what we were doing there, John thought. But Rodney needed to be a little more reticent with the information, here.
She took a sharp breath. "If you help me stabilize the Mirror, I will let you go. I'll take you back to your ship-"
"No." Rodney's mouth twisted. "Next question."
Trishen shook her head, frustrated and angry. "I just want to get back to my own reality-"
Rodney's voice was acid. "Yes, well, I'm sorry we can't make your welfare a priority, since we're a little more concerned at the moment with saving the lives of our entire species."
It was her turn to glare at Rodney. "The Mirror is not a weapon. I thought you understood that."
Rodney gave her the little "you're so stupid" laugh, the one guaranteed to send his science team colleagues into paroxysms of fury. "Please, not counting any stray Ascendants, I'm the Pegasus Galaxy's foremost expert on Quantum Mirrors, and yes, it's not a weapon." His expression hardened. "But your ship is."
Teyla shifted uncertainly, throwing a look at John. Yeah, he really didn't want to put those cards on the table. He said, "Rodney."
Trishen made a sharp gesture, apparently genuinely exasperated. "This ship has no offensive weapons! You're the ones with weapons-"
Rodney set his jaw. "Our weapons are woefully inadequate against the Wraith, and most of the humans here have no weapons, they've been bombed back into a preindustrial level of technology-"
John stared at him incredulously. "Rodney!"
Rodney raised his voice, o
ut-shouting John to finish with, "-so the Wraith, your nearest genetic relatives in this reality, can keep them like cattle and feed on them at their leisure!" He shot a look at John and said, lowvoiced, "I know what I'm doing."
John hoped like hell Rodney knew what he was doing, that he hadn't just issued an invitation to a whole different set of Wraith from another reality to invade Pegasus and feed on its nearly helpless inhabitants. He just said, "You'd better."
Ignoring him, watching Trishen narrowly, Rodney said, "The Wraith destroyed the Ancients, drove the last of them out of this galaxy by sheer force of numbers, but they never defeated their technology. The weapons, the sensors, and the cloaking device on our ship are the only way that we can put up any effective resistance whatsoever. Do you see where I'm going with this?"
Trishen stared at him, and it was hard to read the expression in those alien eyes. "My sensors. They use technology left behind by the Creators-your Ancients. That's why I could see your ship through its cloaking device." She shook her head. "If you think I will give it to the Wraith-I have no reason to do that! I just want to go home."
"I don't think you'll give it to them." Rodney stepped forward, his face grim as he hammered his point home. "I think they'll take it. And if they know there's more in your reality, I think they'll go through the Mirror to get it."
Teyla was watching Trishen with clinical detachment. She added, "And if you believe your resemblance to them makes you safe, you are wrong. They will feed on their own kind when no humans are available. And there are far too many of them awake now; for the past year they have been in search of a new feeding ground."
John added, "So if you're not going to eat us, let us go.
Trishen stood there, staring at them, breathing hard. "I can't-I have to think about this." She turned in a whirl of skirts and vanished back through the hatch, the door sliding shut after her.
John let his breath out, pacing a few steps away and rubbing his eyes. His jaw hurt, they were stuck here, and he wasn't seeing much hope of keeping this ship and its technology away from the Wraith. He wasn't seeing much hope of keeping them away from the Wraith, either. "I see where you're trying to go with this, Rodney, but we could have tried to string her along a little."
