He glanced back at his consoles, seeing displays he hadn't seen since they arrived on this unnamed world. Atlantis was stabilizing her towers, readying her systems for flight. Capacitors were charging, drawing from the thin sun and the motion of the waves, extra bursts of power to spare the ZPM. It was all going according to plan.
Except it wasn't going fast enough. He frowned at the graphs that showed the city's progress, system and structural readiness and the time needed to complete all the essential tasks. At the current rate, it would be done just after the Wraith reached attack range. Presumably the Hammond and the Genii ship would engage before then, but that was cutting it too close. He glared at the systems, and then began typing, moving the least essential items off the list entirely, telling the city and his teams to skip steps within other processes. The computers considered, and displayed a new result: he'd gained an hour.
Radek swore under his breath. There had to be another way – something he wasn't seeing, some shortcut he was missing....
"Problems, Doc?" That was Sheppard, coming up behind him so quietly that Radek jumped and swore again.
"Yes and no," he said. "This takes time, this process, and that is not something we have an infinite amount of."
"Preflight for something this big has to be a bitch," Carter said. She came to join Sheppard, peering at the displays. "What's the estimate look like?"
"Not what I would like," Radek answered, and leaned back to let her see more clearly. "Right now, we will launch about an hour before the Wraith fleet comes within shooting range. That is not counting on the Hammond and the Genii, of course –"
"That's not good enough," Sheppard said flatly. "We need to be in orbit when they enter the system, preferably before."
"I am trying," Radek answered. "There are things that can be cut, but – you know how complex the systems are."
Carter nodded slowly. "And I'm going to have to pull my people out to get the Hammond ready to launch."
"Could you give me another couple of hours?" Radek asked. "The more people we have, the more likely we can get this done. Or perhaps Dr. Lee's team?"
"We're still locking things down," Carter answered. "I'll send Dr. Lee as soon as we're ready for takeoff. They've already said they'll be the last team through the gate, that should help."
"It will help some," Radek said. You had to admire Bill Lee, he thought. The man had no real desire to travel to distant worlds, to put his life on the line, and yet here he was, doing exactly that, and not for the first time, either. He shook the thought away, tapping his fingers on the console. "Perhaps – no, damn it, that has to be cleared before the shield generators can be tested."
"I hate to say it," Carter said, "but we may need to put McKay on this."
"Rodney," Sheppard said.
Is there another McKay here? Radek swallowed the words. "I don't think that's necessarily a good idea –"
"You don't seriously think he's compromised," Sheppard said.
"The – this device is still missing," Radek said. "I do not like the risk."
Sheppard looked over his shoulder as though he expected to find the weapon lying under a console. "We'll find the damn thing. And if we don't, it's even more important to get the city ready to fly."
"And we will waste as much time double checking Rodney's work as we will save having him help us," Radek said. "I – no, I don't believe he is compromised, or certainly not consciously, but nonetheless we will all worry."
"It's your call, Dr. Zelenka," Carter said, in a tone that meant precisely the opposite, "but I think it would be helpful."
"What would be helpful?" And that was General O'Neill, drawn inevitably toward any cluster of senior people. Radek blinked up at him.
"We are looking for ways to speed up the preparations," he said. "Colonel Carter has suggested we get Rodney to help."
"And you don't like it," O'Neill said.
Radek shoved his glasses back up on his nose. Did he really think Rodney would betray them again? Not consciously, not knowingly or willingly, no: Teyla had said he was not Queen Death's man, and Radek trusted her implicitly. It was just – there were so many variables to juggle, so many things that all had to be gotten exactly right, and the truth of the matter was that no one else in Sciences could tell for sure if something was one of Rodney's brilliant ideas or a clever attempt at sabotage. And yet, it was Rodney. They had to trust him some time. "I do not, particularly," he said. "But Colonel Carter is right. We don't have a better choice."
"I could assign Ronon to keep an eye on him," Sheppard said. "If that would make people feel better."
"I like it," O'Neill said. "Go get McKay."
Just Fortune dropped out of hyperspace, the transitions shivering through its massive length. In the queen's quarters, Teyla looked up sharply, and Alabaster lifted her head.
"Surely we are too early," Teyla said aloud.
Alabaster rose from her couch and crossed to the nearest console, brushing aside a screen of metal vines. “By several hours. I wonder....” Her mental voice faded as she reached for the intercom. "Hivemaster. What has gone wrong?"
There was a little silence before Bonewhite answered, and when he spoke, he sounded faintly breathless, as though he had only just come to the bridge. "I don't yet know, Lady. We have dropped out of hyperspace – apparently a failsafe tripped. I'll inform you as soon as I know more."
"Do that," Alabaster answered, and closed the connection.
“I do not like the sound of that,” Teyla said.
“No more do I.” Alabaster was pacing again, as unable to wait in stillness as her father.
“It is pointless to speculate,” Teyla said, as much to herself as to the queen, and Alabaster showed teeth in genuine amusement.
“No, but one cannot help it. Failsafes can fire when they're not needed, that happens. Much depends on how cautious the Hivemaster is, though Bonewhite was never known for that.”
“He is Guide's right hand,” Teyla said her tone dry, and Alabaster laughed.
“It is true that my father was always called reckless. Even when I was a child, I remember –” The words stopped, but the image continued, Guide bowing deep to another scarlet-haired queen, her mind caught between amusement and exasperation. Alabaster's mother, Teyla realized, Guide's lost queen, her mind as cool and bright as the unmelting snow on the highest peaks of Athos.
Alabaster nodded, following her thoughts with ease. “Yes, that is Snow, my mother. The Seed had been planted for my own hive when she was killed, and I – was trapped in exile.”
Teyla repressed a shudder at that. She'd seen what happened when Dr. Keller had accidentally been infected, and she doubted the process was any more pleasant for the human just because the Wraith were controlling it. She did her best to conceal that thought, but some trace of it must have escaped, and Alabaster gave her a thin smile, daring her to comment.
"Lady." Bonewhite's voice spoke from the console, and Alabaster turned to answer.
"Yes."
"We've found the problem. A failsafe was tripped, and Hasten is working to be sure it will not happen again."
"Surely we can get underway without it?" Alabaster said.
"Hasten believes it will merely fire again if it isn't replaced," Bonewhite answered. "Give us an hour, no more than two, and it will be done."
We don't have that time. Teyla swallowed the words, and saw Alabaster's back straighten. "An hour, Hivemaster. No more. We must reach Atlantis before Death's fleet."
"Yes, Lady," Bonewhite said, and the screen went blank.
“I would also very much like to know exactly how that component came to fail,” Teyla said.
Alabaster nodded. “As would I. If Ember is right....”
“Then this may not be the last failure,” Teyla said, her voice grim. And if they did not reach Atlantis in time – no, she wouldn't allow herself to think that, any more than she would believe that Guide would fail them in the end.
Chapter Twelve<
br />
Saboteur
The hyperdrive window opened and Just Fortune passed through. Ember felt the shiver as he bent over the failsafe dissected on his workbench, and Salt glanced quickly at the displays on the far wall.
“We should still be in time to the rendezvous.”
“Good.” Ember lifted a slender probe, touched the damaged fibers that served as nerves to carry signals to the cut-off mechanism. A spark flared, brighter and bluer than it should have been, and he frowned. “Here, take a look at this.”
“All right.” Salt stooped over the bench, shoving the heavy cords of his hair impatiently over his shoulder. He glanced at the tool Ember held, and chose a more sensitive instrument before touching the damaged ends. The same spark showed, and he looked up sharply.
“Just so,” Ember said.
“It couldn't have have been damaged when it was removed from the hull,” Salt began, and shook his head.
“I wouldn't expect heightened sensitivity,” Ember answered.
“No.” Salt glanced sidelong at him, the thought hovering in the back of his mind, and Ember articulated it for him.
“Yes, sabotage.”
“But why –?” Salt shook his head again. “I suppose there are men who do not wish to ally with the Lanteans.”
Ember paused, wondering if he cared trust the other cleverman. But Salt had been a stranger to the hive, too, and had come with him to Death's hive to work with Quicksilver. He knew what Salt thought of Queen Death's ways. “Or those who would prefer to see Queen Death our overlady.”
Salt hissed softly. “That is madness.”
“Can you say for certain that there are none who'd follow her?”
“I cannot.”
“Then.” Ember swept up the pieces of the mechanism, slid them into a storage cell. “Let them stay there until they're needed.”
“You're an optimist,” Salt said.
Ember bared teeth at him. “I wish to see whoever's done this punished.”
“You are the chief cleverman,” Salt said, “but you are still a cleverman. Do not bare your chest for feeding before you must.”
Sadly, he was right. Ember took a deep breath. “There will be proof.”
“But must you be the one to find it?” Salt touched his shoulder cautiously, off hand carefully brushing leather rather than hair or bared skin. “Whoever has done this – he will have status in the hive, you know that.”
“Yes,” Ember said. Certainly it had to have been a man of status, to penetrate the depths of the hive unquestioned. Or perhaps a cleverman of middling rank, but certainly any blade would have been noticed: the failsafes were deep in clevermen's territory, and, while the devices were of necessity accessible, still it would take time to damage the triggering fibers.
“Anyone could have done this,” Salt said, his thoughts running on the same lines. “In terms of technical skill, I mean.”
“Yes,” Ember said again, “but why would they? Queen Death might promise favor, but most clevermen, I think, favor Queen Steelflower.”
“She has treated us with honor equal to her blades,” Salt agreed. “Which might provoke a blade to favor Queen Death – but such a one would be noticed, wandering about in our territory, and I've heard of none such.”
“Nor I.” Ember stifled the thought that crept to the front of his mind. The only blades – the only people – who could move freely throughout the hive were the lords of the commander's council. The Hivemaster himself, the Chief Engineer, the master of the Darts, the First-Watch Captain: they were the most likely suspects, and he dared question none of them. At least not directly, he amended. He was certainly within his rights to seek answers among the blades, and if in the process he very carefully made inquiries about the council.... He would have to be very careful indeed, and there was very little time. “We'll do what we can,” he said, and hoped it would be enough.
Rodney's head snapped up as the door to the corridor outside opened. "What, are we interrogating me again?"
"Probably should," Ronon said, coming in with Radek at his side. "But they're letting you out."
"We need your help to prepare the city for launch," Radek said.
Rodney stared at him for a moment. "Launch? What are we doing, retreating? I mean, not that it might not be a good idea under the circumstances, but ... really?"
"We're not running away," Ronon said.
"Colonel Sheppard believes it will give us more tactical options to be in orbit when we engage the Wraith fleet," Radek said. "He is the military commander, so who am I to argue? But it means we have a lot to do and very little time." He glanced at Ronon, who reached out with obvious reluctance to lower the force field on the cell.
Rodney forced himself to step out casually, as if he were merely deciding that now would be a good time for a stroll. "Does this mean you've decided I'm not secretly working for the Wraith?"
"No," Ronon said flatly. "Sheppard sent me to guard you."
"Guard me, right, like you're going to know exactly what I'm doing. If I were in league with the Wraith, there are a thousand ways I could sabotage our systems without you knowing it. Not that I am in league with the Wraith," Rodney added hurriedly. "I'm just saying."
Radek shrugged. "I know," he said. "For what it is worth, I recommended against your being released."
Rodney frowned, unreasonably stung. "Really loyal friend you are."
Radek threw up his hands in frustration. "Rodney, you were held captive by the Wraith!" He added a fervent oath in Czech. "You broke into our computers, let the Wraith into the city, and have caused as much trouble as it is humanly possible for one man to cause. We lost the ZPM. Good people died."
"It wasn't my fault."
"That is not really the point."
"I'm much better now," Rodney said, but he was aware of how weak the words sounded.
Radek rubbed his forehead. "Yes, well, I hope so. Because we will need your skills to prepare the city for launch in the time we have left, and Colonel Carter believes that at this point it is worth taking the risk."
Rodney brightened a bit. "She said that?"
"She does not believe you will sabotage the city," Radek said. "Please do not take it as a sign of romantic interest. No one has time for that."
"I'm just pleased that she has faith in me."
"Yes, well. I want you to go over the checklist for launch preparation with me, make sure we are leaving nothing out. Then you can help me try to optimize power for this. That way I will see what you are doing."
Rodney looked up at Ronon. "In that case, do you have to loom that way?"
Ronon shrugged. "I'm not leaving Zelenka alone with you."
Rodney huffed in frustration. "What do you think I'm going to do, stun him and ..." He trailed off, remembering abruptly that he'd stunned John, and probably would have killed him if he could, in his fury that this strange human had killed Quicksilver's brother.
He shook off the flush of anger that came with the memory. He remembered who he was, now, and that he'd never really been Quicksilver. Dust had been his captor, not his brother. The twist of uncomfortable feelings lingered, along with the memory of what it had felt like to desperately want to please Queen Death, to make himself worthy in her eyes ...
"Something like that," Ronon said.
"Let us not go there," Radek said. "No one is going to stun anyone. We will just optimize the power, and then you can supervise our preparations and leave me free to fix any problems we find that might kill us." He hesitated. "You know I cannot give you unsupervised access to the computer system."
"Yes, that's what I told you," Rodney said. "At least you're listening now."
Radek looked at him searchingly. "Are you working for the Wraith?"
"I already told Sheppard no."
"Humor me and tell me as well."
"No, I'm not working for the Wraith."
Radek shook his head. "Which of course tells me nothing."
"You asked," Rodney sa
id. "I'll meet you in the control room." He began striding down the corridor, but Ronon stepped out to block his path.
"That's not the way to the control room," Ronon said.
"It's the way to my quarters," Rodney said. "I'd like a shower and to put on clean clothes. If we're going to have an epic battle with the Wraith, I'll think better if I don't smell. All right?'
"I'm coming with you."
"I figured that, yes." They walked down the corridor, unspeaking, Rodney having to race to keep up with Ronon's strides. "You know, it's not my fault."
"I never said it was," Ronon said.
"No, but you're acting like it."
Ronon turned on him, backing him up against the corridor wall. "I think you're still working for the Wraith," he said flatly. "I was there when you fed on Jennifer, remember?"
"I was dying. And she wanted me to.”
"You're lucky she's alive."
"What do you want me to say? What do you think would have happened if they'd used the same process on you? You'd have been the one who wanted to suck the life out of people."
Ronon stood and looked at him, his jaw set hard. "I know that," he said after a while. "I know they can break me. They've done it. I can't blame you for whatever they've done to you. Not the real you."
"But you still think I'm working for the Wraith."
A flicker of dark humor passed across Ronon's face. "Yep."
"Fine, come keep me under guard while I take a shower." He strove to make his voice light. "I warn you, Newton's loose in my quarters."
Ronon shrugged. "I've got a stunner."
"You are not stunning my cat," Rodney said indignantly.
"Whatever it takes," Ronon said, and his voice was grim.
John was finishing briefing the two Marine teams that the SGC had sent through – good guys, all of them, but new to Atlantis – when Ronon came in with Rodney. They'd obviously taken time for Rodney to go back to his quarters and shower and shave because he was wearing fresh clothes and his hair was still wet. Ronon took the steps two at a time, going up to the control level like he was relieved to be away from Rodney for a minute. "We have a problem," Rodney said. "A big problem."
SGA-21 - Inheritors - Book VI of the Legacy Series Page 14
