“You wouldn’t,” Ronon said.
“I will be fine,” Teyla said. She put her P90 pointedly on the table between her and Cai, one hand resting on it while the other curled around her cup. “I am happy to stay here and negotiate.”
Cai smiled a little. “Are you sure you’re not Genii?”
“I am Athosian,” Teyla said serenely.
The Kusada plant had been badly damaged, but Cai’s people had shored up the weakest beams, and reinforced the main entrance with new timber. Ronon eyed it warily, and glanced at Radek to see if he thought it was safe. To his surprise, the scientist was nodding in approval, and followed Vin into the building without hesitation. Ronon came after them a little more slowly, hunching his shoulders in spite of himself.
“This is good work,” Radek said. He was blinking hard behind his glasses, as though that would make his eyes adjust faster to the relatively dim light, and Vin paused.
“Thanks. It’s mostly Martei’s doing, he’s — he used to be an architect, and he told us where to place the supports. Cai recruited him after we nearly lost Pollar in the old Manbael Building. We thought we’d shored up the stairway enough, but we hadn’t. Martei can tell us just where to put the props.”
Ronon looked around, letting his own eyes adjust. He didn’t know this part of the city well, never had reason to be there — soldiers and factory hands didn’t mix much — but even he could see how the massive working frames were bent and broken. They had made train cars here, Cai had said, and he could sort of picture it. There were the tracks, running in and out of what had been massive doors, and overhead were the ruins of the power supply, wheels and shafts that ran the length of the factory. He had been to such a plant once or twice, vaguely remembered the screech of metal and the whine of the enormous leather belts that took power from the driveshafts to the individual machines. Now the machines were dead, thrown from their platforms, and the floor was covered with a thick layer of debris.
“The storage areas are back here,” Vin said.
“How do you know all this?” Ronon asked. It seemed suddenly too easy, and his hand twitched on the butt of his blaster.
Vin glanced over his shoulder. “I was an engineer-apprentice — not here, with Tolland Sons, but it’s pretty much the same layout.” He shook his head, turned back to the path that had been cleared through the rubble. “It’s funny, Kusada was our biggest rival, but Tolland’s factory burned and theirs didn’t, so — ” He shrugged. “Here we are.”
They had reached a sliding door, now permanently bent out of true. Radek reached for his flashlight, shone it through the gap into the greater darkness. He said something in Czech as the light struck the slabs of metal, and ducked past both of them into the storage area. Ronon clicked on his own light and followed, and a moment later Vin came after him, carrying an oil lantern. In the combined light, Ronon could see what had been the neatly stacked raw materials for the train cars, now tumbled into ugly heaps. It would be impossible to move most of it without heavy equipment, and he hoped no one had been in here when the Wraith attacked. There was pig iron, showing rust-red in the light, and what looked like a roll of something silvery, and then Radek’s light swung and steadied, and Ronon tipped his head to one side.
“That it?”
“Oh, yes,” Radek said, almost reverently. “Yes, this should be exactly — ” He stopped, as though he’d suddenly remembered they were supposed to be driving a bargain, and Ronon shrugged.
“We’ll see.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Vin grinning, and didn’t think they’d fooled him one bit.
“Yes,” Radek said, and moved forward to examine the plates more closely.
“Careful — ” Ronon began, and bit back the rest of what he might have said. Human strength alone wasn’t going to move these piles of metal.
“Yes, yes,” Radek said, and edged into the gap between what looked like two different kinds of plating. “This may take a while.”
It took, in fact, the better part of an hour, Vin trailing Radek with the lamp, the two of them sharing a huddled conversation, and then moving on again. After twenty minutes, Ronon was bored, and convinced that Vin, at least, was honest; after forty-five minutes, he stopped the ex-apprentice as he darted after Radek.
“Is there a way to the roof?”
Vin blinked. “Yes — yes, actually. Through there. We’ve shored them up, and the roof, too, it’s perfectly safe — ”
“Thanks,” Ronon said, and turned away. He couldn’t have said quite what he was looking for, if he was even looking for anything, and not just trying to distract himself. The factory smelled old and dry, not even dead, and he needed air and light.
He ducked through the doorway that Vin had indicated, and started up the stairs, body tensed just in case the next step was the one that wouldn’t take his weight. He could see the paler wood of the repairs, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe Vin when he said it would hold — well, his mind believed, but his body did not. The occasional crack and groan didn’t improve matters.
Then at last he came out onto the roof, and stood for a moment, staring. Most of the biggest buildings were still there, their shells intact, roofless, broken, but recognizable. Somehow that seemed worse than if they had been missing altogether, and he shook his head, wishing he had the words. It was like looking at the skeleton of something so long dead that half the bones were missing. The eye filled in the gaps even as it noted them, shapes made as familiar as they were strange. There was the old guildhall, converted before he was born to a commercial exchange: the long windows were empty, carved frames broken out, but the line of the roof was intact. The Panopticon’s roof had fallen in, but its narrow towers still flanked the gap, scorched and blackened against the pale sky. In the far distance, sunlight glinted from the dome of the City Museum. Somehow most of the gilding had survived, and it had not been worth anyone’s while to pull it down for salvage. Or at least, not worth it yet. Cai was bound to get there, in the end.
Beyond that was the gap that had been Centenary Park, once dark with trees, now bleak and empty, a few twisted stumps thrusting out of the rubble. He and Melena had never gone there much, preferred the livelier amusement of Gateside, where there were band concerts three nights a week, and you could buy cakes and tea from a dozen vendors, and bring a flask of your own if you were reasonably discreet…
He looked back at the Museum, the afternoon sun bright on the gilded dome. If there’d been no looting there, no salvage — it had had what was supposed to be an important collection of Ancient artifacts. He remembered being taken there on school trips, walking through the echoing halls, boys in one long line, girls in the other, giggling and shoving each other when the teachers weren’t looking. There was much more in the catacombs beneath the museum: he definitely remembered one young teacher explaining that there was far too much to display, as well as things that were too fragile, and things that were too dangerous. Maybe that would be worth investigating, too, if Teyla’d managed to strike a deal.
They walked back to the hotel through lengthening shadows, Radek vainly trying to suppress his excitement. Teyla met them in the doorway, calm as ever, P90 still clipped to her chest.
“We — there is quite a bit of what we need,” Radek began, trying to be cautious, and Teyla nodded.
“We have come to some provisional arrangements,” she said, and smiled. Cai was smiling, too, Ronon saw, so the deal seemed fair to him. “We must return to Atlantis and confer with our superiors, of course, but I believe this will do well for both of us.”
Cai bowed. “I sincerely hope so.”
Chapter Thirteen
The City Museum
The debriefing didn’t take long — in fact, the longest part was Radek waxing rhapsodic about the titanium plates he had found. Though mostly, Ronon thought, it was quick because they didn’t have much choice. They could pay what Cai wanted, or look somewhere else. And Sheppard was not the kind of man who’d send a raiding
party to steal something he could afford to pay for. Ronon allowed himself a crooked smile. And besides, the plates were too big and heavy to move if somebody was shooting at them. Sheppard was making wrap-it-up noises, and Ronon pulled himself upright.
“Sheppard. There’s one more thing.”
Everyone looked at him, Teyla with her head to one side, and he licked his lips.
“While Zelenka was doing his thing, I went up on the roof to take a look around. The City Museum looks pretty much intact. When I was a kid, they said there was a big collection of Ancient artifacts there. I’m thinking we should take a look.”
Sheppard nodded. “Sounds interesting. Teyla, do you think Cai would go for that?”
She paused, considering. “We might have to offer a little more, but, yes, I think he would agree. The Ancient gene is so rare here that there is little use any of us, Satedans, Athosians, Genii, or any other people, can make of their devices.”
“OK,” Sheppard said. “See what you can do. Ronon, you’ll be in charge if we get clearance, and, Radek, I’d like you to be part of that group.”
Radek nodded, took a deep breath. “We should also bring Dr. Lynn.” He paused, gave a rueful smile. “After all, is this not exactly what we have archeologists for?”
“OK,” Sheppard said again. “Then tomorrow we send the engineers — and I appreciate the loan of Hammond’s people, Colonel Carter — and Ronon and his team will check out this museum collection. But remember. Don’t touch the glowing things.”
William was the last to arrive in the gate room. He wasn’t actually late, but he was carrying a travel mug, which would have merited remark, Radek thought, if he hadn’t been carrying one himself. They had to wait for the control room team to disengage and redial the gate, a team of Marines with P90s at the ready just in case the Wraith picked that moment to try to dial in. The odds of that were vanishingly small, but it was not a chance anyone wanted to take.
Nonetheless, it was a relief to see the gate light again, the burst of blue steadying to the shimmer of the event horizon, filing the circle of the gate. The Marine detail formed up sharply, the engineers following with less conscious swagger, and Ronon and Teyla moved forward, ready to be first through the gate. Radek took a deep breath — this was really not what he’d signed up for — and followed. At the edge of the event horizon, he glanced over his shoulder, saw Sheppard watching from the rail of the control room, his face so expressionless it was clear how much he wanted to go in their place. I wish you could, Radek thought, and stepped through the gate.
He emerged into the chill of a spring morning, the light gold and new, the shadows long across the square. Smoke rose from the tents, and a bonfire was burning in a cleared spot at the center of the square. His breath left a trail of fog, but it was the kind of chill that promised a warm day to follow.
“Dex!” Ushan Cai emerged from the best-repaired of the buildings, a stocky woman at his side, and Ronon lifted his hand in greeting.
“Cai.”
“And Teyla and Dr. Zelenka,” Cai went on. “Welcome. I’m glad we’ve been able to come to an agreement.”
“As are we,” Teyla said.
“I assume there are more coming?” Cai asked, and Ronon nodded.
“Right behind us.”
Even as he spoke, the event horizon rippled again, and the first of the Marines emerged, hauling the crated trade goods. Cai nodded, nodded again as the engineers followed them, and there was the usual milling around as the Marines looked for the right place to leave the crates and the engineers looked for their orders. Ronon got them sorted out quickly enough, and Teyla smiled at Cai.
“There was another matter we were interested in discussing. Perhaps I might have a word?”
“Of course,” Cai answered, and they moved out of earshot.
“Zelenka!” Ronon called. “Help Vin get Captain Corvasc set up at the factory. Then come back and we’ll see what Teyla’s come up with.”
“Yes, of course,” Radek said, and hurried to help.
It didn’t take long to show the engineers the plates, and to get them started. They’d brought plasma torches and an Ancient skid that seemed have some kind of antigravity, as well as props and blocks, and Vin was happy to help, particularly when the detail sergeant proved willing to explain the torch. Radek waited a few minutes to be sure it was all in order, then started back to the square.
He was expecting a call to tell him to hurry up, but the radio stayed silent the whole way. Instead, there was birdsong and sunlight, a sense of spring that felt impossibly good after the weeks of cold and snow. There was new growth in what had obviously been household gardens, tucked in between ruined houses, and he guessed that Cai’s people would be able to eat well for the summer, at least. They didn’t lack courage, coming back here, particularly with Death gathering the Wraith behind her, but if she could be stopped — From the look of things, they could do well.
William was standing by the dying bonfire, talking to the stocky woman who had been with Cai — in fact, they were trading tastes of each other’s drinks, nodding seriously. That was also something Radek remembered, the way William had always used food and drink to make connections, talking as easily to grandmothers as to street vendors, and he made himself smile as he moved to join them. William’s greeting was equally reserved, and Radek was glad to see movement in the doorway of Cai’s headquarters. Ronon emerged, followed by Teyla, still talking over her shoulder to Cai, who stooped slightly to listen.
“Zelenka,” Ronon said. “We’re good to go.”
“Very well,” Radek answered. “The engineers are settled to work, and I think that will go well.”
“How far is it to this museum?” William asked.
Ronon paused, obviously calculating. “About — three kilometers, I’d say. A little less than that.”
“Not bad,” William said, and tucked the now-empty travel mug into his pack.
Radek looked at Teyla. “So we have a deal?”
“Yes.” Her smile was serene. “I have agreed that we will share information on what is still in the museum, in exchange for first choice of what is found. I think it is fair.”
“Good enough for me,” Ronon said. He wasn’t looking good, Radek thought, as though the first pleasure of seeing his fellow Satedans had worn off and he was seeing the ruined city all the more clearly for having been happy. “Let’s go.”
Cai’s people had done some clearing of the streets around the gate square, but once they’d gone a kilometer or so, the damage was more impressive. Buildings had collapsed into the street, spilling bricks across what had been a broad roadway, so that they had to scramble over and around the piles of debris. Glass glittered between the paving stones, spread in swaths across the bricks. The birds seemed more distant now, driven off by the sound of their footsteps.
Walking would have been bearable, but the uneven footing, the detours and the occasional climb, was making Radek’s leg begin to ache. He felt himself lagging, gritted his teeth, not wanting to say anything, and was only mildly embarrassed when Teyla called a halt at the next open square. He sat on the edge of the now-dry fountain — otherwise almost untouched; winged nymphs lifted wreaths to a central pillar, their bodies chipped but intact — and discreetly massaged the cramped muscle while the others took long drinks from their water bottles. The sun was definitely hot now, and Radek loosened his own jacket.
William turned on his heel, surveying the square. “Residential?” he asked, and Ronon glared at him.
“Yeah.”
“A nice neighborhood,” William said, almost to himself, looking over the top of his glasses at the lines of the roofs.
“It used to be,” Ronon said, and his voice was grim.
“I believe I was here once,” Teyla began, and looked at Ronon. “But no matter.”
Radek looked up at them, the pain in his leg forgotten. There was a baffled anger in Ronon’s face that made him wince in sympathy. “When I was a little bo
y,” he said, groping for the words. “The town I grew up in had been bombed in the war. There had been a German manufacturing plant there, and the center of the city was destroyed with it. I was not yet born, of course, but I heard the stories. Three nights of raids, with a bomber’s moon high in the sky, and everyone huddling in their cellars not knowing what they wished except to survive.”
William nodded, familiar quick sympathy, but Radek was watching Ronon, saw the hint of curiosity. Behind the Satedan, Teyla nodded gravely, and Radek wondered what stories Sheppard had told her, while they were trapped on Earth.
“We had been conquered by our enemy,” he said, his eyes on Ronon. “So we wished to see them beaten, and yet the cost…” He shrugged. “The new town, the center that everyone was so proud of, it was gone. The Old Town was shattered, and the people were gone, and there were streets filled to the second floors of the houses with broken stone. But by the time I was born… When I was very little, there were empty cellars, wrecked houses, and we were told never to play in them, or we would drown or be buried alive. By the time I was in school, the cellars were filled in, and my grandmother had a garden again. My uncle built his house where there had been a drygoods shop.” He hesitated, shrugged again. “It is possible to rebuild. And Cai is making a good beginning, I think.”
“It won’t be the same,” Ronon said.
“No,” Radek agreed. “But it will exist.”
Ronon turned away, the heavy dreadlocks flying. Radek sighed, and took a long drink from his water bottle. His leg was feeling better, and he couldn’t help thinking perhaps he should not have said anything.
“Let us move on,” Teyla said, after a moment.
Radek tucked his bottle back into the pack and began to haul himself to his feet, but to his surprise Ronon turned and held out his hand. Radek took it, grateful for the support as he got his knee working again, and Ronon said, “Thanks.”
STARGATE ATLANTIS: Allegiance(Book three in the Legacy series) Page 15
