Entanglement

by Martha Wells

  Caldwell clarified, "A Wraith ship, Doctor. We can't tell what class yet."

  "Colonel!" Novak called from her console. She flailed excitedly. "I'm picking up an energy signature from Ancient technology. I'm not sure if it's a cloaked puddlejumper, it doesn't quite match the pattern-"

  Hermiod interrupted in his dry laconic voice, "It is a gate ship signature, possibly altered to avoid interfering with the Mirror's destabilized quantum field."

  "It's them," Carson said. It had to be them.

  "Open a channel." Caldwell sat down in the command chair.

  "Oh, this isn't good," Novak muttered. "Sir, the Quantum Mirror-"

  "The singularity is detaching from the Mirror's matrix and collapsing," Hermiod overrode her. "It will close, destroying the Mirror's physical structure, and causing a massive disruption to the area around it."

  Caldwell shifted impatiently, leaning forward. "Can you raise the jumper?"

  At the forward control board, Major Meyers glanced up, her brow furrowed in concentration. "No, sir, it's not responding. And it's just heading straight up from the surface. It could be on automatic pilot."

  Caldwell grimaced. "Life signs?"

  "There's too much interference from the Mirror, sir," Lieutenant Hawkins answered him.

  "They must be unconscious, that's why they aren't answering the comm," Carson said. He wasn't sure how much Caldwell knew about the puddlejumpers' ATA interface. "The jumper wouldn't still be flying if there wasn't someone with the Ancient gene alive inside it."

  "He's right, Colonel," Major Lorne added quickly. "The jumpers only have a limited unmanned autopilot function, and that's only for dropping out of the Atlantis jumper bay and going through the gate. If it's under power and maintaining a heading, it's got a gene carrier pilot, whether he's conscious or not."

  Hermiod's voice grated, "The singularity is detaching now. It will cause a gravitational well to form temporarily over the area. The gate ship is not powerful enough to pull free. If you intend to retrieve it-"

  Caldwell sat back in his chair. "Full power, take us down into tractor range."

  The starfield wheeled as the Daedalus dove down toward the moon's surface. Though the deck felt rock steady under his feet, Carson's stomach did a psychosomatic dip anyway.

  "We're nearly in range." Captain Kleinmann, on the other forward console, made some careful adjustments to his controls.

  The ship started to shake. "The gravity well is forming," Hermiod informed them, probably unnecessarily.

  Carson couldn't see a damn thing through the port. He stepped forward, looking at the screens, but it was all just blips.

  Hawkins said urgently, "Sir, we have a hiveship on longrange sensors, just entering the system."

  Carson's stomach clenched but Caldwell just muttered dryly, "Of course we do."

  "We've got it!" Novak called, "We've got the jumper, sir.

  "Pull up, bring it into the bay, and get us out of here," Caldwell said, watching the screen with narrowed eyes. "It looks like the Mirror isn't going to be a problem any„ more.

  The screen was displaying a sensor schematic of the giant structure around the Mirror. The collapsing singu larity had taken a good portion of the ground around it when it had vanished. The remaining structure was slowly crumbling into the crater it had left behind. Carson didn't stay to watch further; he and Lorne hurried to the elevator, making for the F-302 bay.

  John came to feeling like someone had punched him in the head. A lot. "Not again," he muttered. He managed to get his eyes open. The HUD was fuzzy and flashing error codes, but it was the view through the jumper's port that made him grip the armrests, the sudden jolt of adrenaline clearing his head. He wasn't looking at a starfield, but a set of enormous ship bay doors that were just starting to slide open. "What the hell-?"

  "Giant Quantum Mirror of death," Rodney groaned from the co-pilot's seat. He was leaning forward on the control board, his head pillowed on his arms. "Does that ring any bells? The concussion wave must have knocked us out. If the jumper's inertial dampeners hadn't-" Rodney lifted his head, saw what was happening, and froze, gaping. "Oh, you meant `what fresh hell is this?"'

  But as the opening grew wider, John spotted the familiar racks of F-302s. They weren't being tractored into an alien spaceship, this was a rescue. "It's the Daedalus," he said in relief He tried to twist around in his seat, gritted his teeth as pain stabbed through his midsection. He fumbled at the straps, calling, "Teyla, Ronon, you guys okay back there?"

  Sounding shaky, Teyla's voice answered, "I believe ...ow."

  John managed to get himself out of the chair and stagger into the back cabin. Everyone was stirring, except for Zelenka, who hung limply against the straps. John limped over to him and felt his pulse. It was there, and he seemed to be breathing normally. "Is he all right?" Teyla asked, pushing unsteadily to her feet. Ronon was gripping the bench seat for support, still moving sluggishly from the stun blasts. Miko was fumbling to unbuckle her safety straps, watching Zelenka anxiously.

  "He's alive," John told her. Rodney, standing in the cabin doorway, swore in weary relief. Alive, John repeated to himself. They were all alive. And apparently in the right reality. It was just starting to dawn on him that they had really made it.

  By the time they got Zelenka unstrapped and laid out on the bench, the jumper had thumped softly to the deck of the bay and someone was banging on the hatch. Rodney hit the ramp release and it lowered, letting in the Daedalus' filtered air. A group of SFs were warily waiting, aiming weapons. John understood the necessity, but at the moment it just exasperated the hell out of him. He said tightly, "Yeah, it's us. Get a damn medical team in here, now."

  Then Major Lorne pushed forward, stepping onto the ramp as soon as it touched the deck. He was already on his radio, saying, "Dr. Beckett, we need a medical team for Dr. Zelenka immediately. Everybody else looks pretty beat up, too."

  "And we were actually pretty beat up before the concussion wave," Rodney added, slumping down on the bench in relief.

  Beckett came up the ramp, saying, "Thank God." He turned, waving to someone across the bay. "Get those gurneys over here!"

  John ended up debriefing Caldwell from a gurney in the sick bay, in one of the private treatment compartments with a lot of esoteric unrecognizable medical equipment built into the bulkheads and people in Daedalus medical uniforms walking in and out.

  John gave Caldwell the brief outline while a nurse scanned him and took blood. With a grimace, Caldwell said, "This was a close one. If the Wraith had managed to return with an Eidolon ship, this war would be over."

  "I don't think they were there long enough to figure out what the Eidolon could do." On the way down to sick bay, before Beckett had chased him off, Lorne had managed to tell John about the hiveship that had arrived. The Daedalus had entered hyperspace before it could scan them, and there hadn't been anything left of the Mirror installation for it to find. "And none of the Wraith in the other reality made it out alive." John frowned, realizing he didn't actually know that for certain. The scout ship had been in pieces, and he didn't think any of the darts had managed to get in the air. "Did they?"

  Caldwell shook his head. "Our scans didn't pick up anything coming out of the Mirror but debris and your jumper.

  That was a relief. John winced as the nurse jabbed the needle for the IV into his arm. "I need to send a report to Dr. Weir." Lorne had said that Atlantis hadn't gotten any of the transmissions sent to the base moon after the Wraith had arrived, and John knew Elizabeth would be worried.

  "As soon as we're well clear of the hiveship, we'll drop out of hyper and I'll send her an initial report." With a restrained flash of humor, Caldwell said, "Your team got lucky, again, Sheppard."

  "Yeah, we usually do," John told him.

  Caldwell left, and John meant to get up and check on the others. But this was the first time he had been able to rest in hours and the IV was taking the edge off the pain; he fell asleep before the nurse finish
ed scanning him. He woke up with someone leaning over him, and he almost punched Beckett before he realized who it was. Beckett, used to this after more than a year in Pegasus, just dodged like a pro boxer and said, "Easy now." An unfamiliar doctor in Daedalus coveralls retreated hastily. Unperturbed, Beckett ran an Ancient handheld medical scanner over John. "You've banged yourself up this time, Colonel."

  "I think I knew that." John rubbed his eyes. He had cold packs jammed into various places and his bad knee was propped up on a couple of pillows. Whatever was in the IV must be working, because the pain felt floaty and distant. Not unlike his head. "Where's my team?"

  "They're all fine," Beckett assured him. "Just get some rest."

  Beckett left with the other doctor, but John still wanted to check on everybody. He unhooked the IV bag from the stand and climbed carefully to his feet, shedding cold packs. Then he had to hold onto the table to steady himself, head swimming. Okay, maybe getting up wasn't such a great idea, but he was here now, and he still wanted to see how the others were doing.

  The corridor was quiet now, empty except for Ronon, who was sitting in a chair, holding an IV bag in his lap. He looked like he had been in a bar fight involving chairs and broken bottles. John was pretty certain he looked the same. "You okay?" John asked.

  Ronon nodded. John was a little too woozy to wonder why Ronon was out in the hall instead of in a treatment room, and just checked the next compartment.

  He found Teyla and Miko there, both curled up asleep on the narrow beds that doubled as examination tables. Miko still had her glasses clutched in one hand. Teyla woke enough to squint blearily up at him, asking, "All is well?"

  "Yeah. Go back to sleep," John told her softly, trying not to wake Miko.

  John went out to the corridor again, noticing he now had Ronon trailing along after him. "Where's Rodney and Zelenka?" John asked him.

  "Down there." Ronon nodded toward the end of the corridor.

  John found the right cabin, stepping in to see a very pale Zelenka in the bed, hooked up to IVs and monitors, with a nurse making notes on a tablet. He asked, "How is he?"

  "He's going to be fine," she told him, giving him an odd look. "Are you supposed to be-"

  Rodney appeared in the hatchway, a laptop tucked under his arm. He was pale, bruised, and looked like he had a hangover. He frowned. "What are you doing up? Carson said not to bother you."

  The nurse tried again, "You really need to-"

  Zelenka stirred and tugged at the blankets, then he blinked, managing to focus on them. His voice hoarse, he asked, "Am I dying?"

  "Don't be an idiot," Rodney told him, before John or the nurse could reply.

  Zelenka frowned, waking up a little more. "Where are we?"

  "The Daedalus," John said. "Everything's fine."

  "Oh." Zelenka squinted up at them uncertainly. "You all look terrible."

  The nurse made herding motions, saying, "He really needs to rest now. So do all of you."

  She was probably right, so John left, prodding Rodney in front of him.

  Outside, Lorne was just coming up the corridor. "Colonel-"

  "Did Caldwell send a message to Elizabeth?" John asked him.

  Lorne nodded sharply. "Yes, sir. While we were out of hyper."

  "Great." John rubbed his eyes, swaying a little. That was one thing he didn't have to worry about. Maybe going back to his treatment table and the ice packs wasn't that bad an idea.

  Then Lorne said, "I'm sorry I left you there, sir."

  John blinked at him. "Left me where? Sony, there's been drugs. What?"

  Lorne hesitated, and started to back away. "Maybe I should do this later."

  "No, it's fine." John fought back a yawn. "What were you saying?"

  Lorne fixed his gaze on the wall past John. "The Wraith showed up at base camp, sir, and I evacuated the teams. I should have-"

  "That was your job, Lome." John was too tired and drugged and in pain to put this any other way but bluntly. "If you'd done anything else, I would've been really pissed off."

  Lorne looked relieved. "Thanks, sir, I-"

  Then Beckett stepped out of a cabin down the corridor, spotted them, and waved his PDA in exasperation. "Bloody hell, will you lot get back in your beds?"

  Rodney turned toward him. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was the sick bay, but obviously it's the brig."

  While Rodney and Beckett were arguing, John decided lying down again wasn't such a bad idea. He was halfway to his room when he realized why Ronon was following him around. He stopped, looking up at him. "Ronon. You don't have to guard us here."

  Ronon looked away, fixing his eyes on some invisible point down the corridor. "I've heard the others say the commander of this ship doesn't like you."

  "Uh." John stared at him. The corridor was currently empty, but this wasn't a good place for this conversation, or to explain John and Caldwell's personal issues. And John wasn't thrilled to realize there were rumors about it. "That's kind of complicated. But it's not like-It doesn't mean you have to stand guard here. It doesn't work like that, with us."

  Ronon shrugged a little. "I don't mind." He looked down at John finally, and he looked tired and young. "Even if you don't think there's a need."

  "Look, just find somewhere to get some rest." This was a little too complicated for John to deal with right now, and he wasn't going to stand here and argue with Ronon until somebody overheard them. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

  Ronon shrugged again. Deciding to take that for an assent, John went down the corridor. He found his treatment room, and started the lengthy process of climbing back onto the narrow bed.

  Rodney came in, dropping into the only chair and opening his laptop. He said briskly, "Carson wants a full debrief on the Eidolon when you're all more conscious."

  "We don't have that much information." John eased down, propping his knee back up on the pillows. Yeah, this was a much better place to be. He had forgotten to hang the IV bag on the stand, and it was too much trouble to do it now, so he just left it on his chest.

  Rodney huffed in annoyance, got up, hung the IV bag back on the hook, then sat down again. "I think he thinks that there's some kind of clue there for a weapon against the Wraith."

  "Weapon?" John frowned at the metal ceiling. "Like what?"

  "Something chemical, that stops them from being able to feed." Rodney made a vague gesture, frowning at the laptop's screen. "I have no idea. I don't listen to his medical babble."

  "Yeah, but the Eidolon had been looking for that for years," John pointed out. "Centuries. And their technology was pretty good."

  "Whatever. It's an area that needs further research anyway," Rodney said, or something like that. John was already falling asleep again.

  MARTHA WELLS

  Martha Wells is the author of seven fantasy novels, including Wheel of the Infinite, City of Bones, The Element of Fire, and the Nebula-nominated The Death of the Necromancer. Her most recent novels are a fantasy trilogy: The Wizard Hunters, The Ships of Air, and The Gate of Gods, all currently out in paperback from HarperCollins Eos.

  She has had short stories in the magazines Realms of Fantasy, Black Gate, Lone Star Stories, and Stargate Magazine, and in the Tsunami Relief charity anthology Elemental from Tor Books. She also has essays in the nonfiction anthologies Farscape Forever and Mapping the World of Harry Potter from BenBella Books. Her books have been published in eight languages, including French, Spanish, German, Russian, Polish, and Dutch, and her web site is www.marthawells.com.

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  SNEAK PREVIEW

  STARGATE SGI : ROSWELL

  by Sonny Whitelaw and Jennifer Fallon

  his had to have been McKay's bright idea, Sam decided. Only he would have been so conceited. "I'm going to beam us down well away from the crash site. We have to do everything possible to minimize our impact on this time."

  "Oh, we're gonna impact, all right," Cam yelled back. "In about one hundred and fifty thousand feet!"

  "C'mon Jack, snap out of it!" Daniel implored.

  Sam glanced aft. Teal'c was applying a pressure bandage to a ragged gash on Vala's thigh. Her BDUs were stained dark with blood, but it wasn't enough to have caused her to pass out like that. It must have been the cumulative effort of her own wounds and dealing with the General's injury. Sam knew from personal experience how draining using a handheld healing device could be. If Teal'c could wake her, Vala may yet be able to bring O'Neill around. "How is she?"

  "Unresponsive," Teal'c replied, tying off the bandage.

  "Coming up on one hundred thousand feet." Cam was scrambling to collect additional items that had floated out of the First Aid kit. Every one of them, even Teal'c, needed medical attention as soon as possible.

  Assuming they weren't dead in the next few minutes, or so.

  Sam glanced outside, but the jumper's spin was still erratic. Lightning bolts and watery sheets fanning out across the windshield told her that they were coming down in the middle of a storm, while data from the HUD confirmed they were now over New Mexico, thankfully well clear of any major towns. Abandoning the jumper would maroon them in this time, but they were fast running out of options. She reluctantly turned to the Asgard transport controls and locked onto their signals.

  And then a not-so muted curse alerted her to the fact that the General was coming around.

  "Jack!" Daniel patted him on the cheek none-too gently, adding green gunk to the blood already there. "Listen to me. You have to think about getting us out of here."