SGA-21 - Inheritors - Book VI of the Legacy Series

by Melissa Scott

  "So everyone off?" O'Neill said.

  Woolsey nodded. "All of the seriously wounded have been sent through to the SGC. That was SG-1 going home."

  O'Neill frowned. "That was only three of them."

  "Dr. Jackson asked if he could stay several more days. Apparently there's some work in the Ancient database he wants to do, and he's excited about Dr. Lynn's work over on the island. I don't see any reason he can't stay a while if he wants to," Woolsey said, shrugging. "After all, he is…"

  "…the foremost authority on the Ancients, yeah, yeah." O'Neill shook his head. "Your problem, not mine."

  Behind O'Neill, McKay was leaning over one of the airman's shoulders, one arm in a sling, grumbling about something on the screen in front of him.

  Dr. Parrish came up the steps with a box in his arms. "Dr. McKay?"

  "What now?" McKay said.

  The box let out a yowl. A Siamese cat poked his head out the top where the flaps didn't quite meet, expressing Siamese disapproval at full volume.

  "I found him in the botany lab," Dr. Parrish said. "Sitting in a pot of nepeta cataria. I think he belongs to you?"

  "He does," McKay said, hurrying over to the box. Newton oozed out the top, climbing up his shoulder with all claws and butting McKay's chin with his head, purring wildly. "Hey, Newton. Did you get lost? Was it scary down there?" Newton butted him again, rubbing his chin against McKay's as McKay clutched him awkwardly one-handed to his chest.

  "Newton?" said Dr. Parrish.

  "After Sir Isaac Newton," McKay said.

  Dr. Parrish sniffed. "That's not very original. I think you should have named him Tesla."

  "At least I didn’t name him Edison," McKay said.

  "I don't see any cat here," Woolsey said, and O'Neill snorted a laugh.

  Once back in his office, Woolsey gazed at the trio in front of him with something like benevolence. McKay had stowed Newton safely out of sight in his quarters, and he took the visitor chair, nursing his injured wrist, while Zelenka and Beckett hovered in the background.

  "And therefore it seems to me that all systems are stable," Zelenka finished. "We are somewhat closer to the equator now, and while this is not as warm a world as Atlantis' previous homes, the weather is somewhat better. We can expect moderate temperatures today and above freezing tonight. As we are near the equator, it may be that we can expect this kind of weather year round."

  "Every day is a beautiful spring day," Beckett said with satisfaction. "For the Outer Hebrides."

  "It's not that cold!" Zelenka said. "For the thousandth time!"

  "It's not snowing," Rodney said. "That's an improvement. Now, when can I get back to work?"

  "Today," Woolsey said. He held up one finger. "But! Dr. Zelenka is still Chief of Sciences. The IOA still has doubts."

  "What would it take to prove to the IOA that I'm fine?" Rodney expostulated. "Me being dead?"

  "Possibly," Woolsey said. "But let's not try it, shall we? They do take a dim view of having been previously dead."

  "Of all the…."

  Zelenka shook his head. "And if we are all done here except for Rodney flailing, I am going to bed. I have not seen my own room in two days, and I am finished."

  "Yes, of course," Woolsey said. He should have noticed that Zelenka had been going nonstop since before the city took off. It was his job to notice. "Go on, Doctor. I think we're through."

  "I'm going to get some work done," Rodney said with satisfaction, following Zelenka out.

  "Be careful of your arm!" Beckett called after him. "I said to be gentle with it!" The door closed behind Rodney. Beckett shook his head, turning around. "Are you all right?"

  "Of course," Woolsey said.

  "The IOA," Beckett replied. "They can't be happy, can they?"

  Woolsey sighed. "No. They never are. But if they do relieve me, I will know I've done the best I possibly could. And it's worth the price."

  "Aye," Beckett said, glancing around at the control room bathed in morning sunshine through the great windows. "Atlantis is worth the price." He picked up his laptop. "And now it's back to the infirmary. Good day, Mr. Woolsey."

  "Thank you, Dr. Beckett."

  The door closed, and Woolsey looked around his quiet office. Nice and quiet. With no crisis at the moment. He had a pile of paperwork to catch up on. He was certainly going to enjoy that. Dick Woolsey looked around once more, taking in the busy duty crew outside, the gate waiting quiet and watchful, the stained glass patterns across the floor. Yes indeed. He was certainly going to enjoy catching up on his paperwork.

  Radek made his way up from the transport chamber in the golden morning light. Food. Shower. Bed. The day could not possibly improve. The labs had suffered no major damage in the battle, though some of the experiments had been disrupted and would have to be restarted; Rodney's cat had apparently eaten more than the pot of catnip someone had collected on M5W-2842, but suffered no more ill effects than producing a massive hairball overnight, deposited conveniently on a stack of pending paperwork. In the background, he could hear Rodney retelling the story, complete with sound effects, and quickened his step, not wanting to have to hear it again.

  "Radek!"

  He turned, to see William Lynn beckoning from one of the smaller conference rooms. "Yes?"

  It wasn't just William, he saw; Dr. Jackson was there, and Ember, looking sleek and entirely recovered. The Wraith bowed in greeting, and Radek nodded, not sure what to say. They hadn't really spoken since the jumper, and Radek doubted there was any point of etiquette that would smooth the awkwardness. Jackson, however, seemed oblivious to the possibilities.

  "What is McKay on about?"

  "His cat," William said, before Radek could answer. "Sorry, I already heard the story twice."

  "What about his cat?" Jackson looked from one to the other. "Why is there a cat on Atlantis?"

  "That is a question better not asked," Radek said, and to his surprise Jackson grinned.

  "Right. McKay's involved. Never mind." Jackson stuck his head out the door. "All clear. Dr. Lynn, thanks for your help – and yours, Ember – and I'll definitely take that up with General O'Neill when I see him."

  The door slid shut behind him, and Ember tilted his head to one side. "Quicksilver – Dr. McKay – seems to produce that reaction."

  "He is a difficult man," Radek said, and stopped. "And also brilliant, though you need not say I said so."

  "Believe me, I would not," Ember answered. "That one knows his worth all too well."

  "But he backs it up," Radek said.

  Ember nodded. "Otherwise – you are his second, yes? As I was on Death's hive. Otherwise someone would have murdered him long ago."

  "He was like that when he was a Wraith?" Radek waved the words away. "No, no, why should he be different?"

  "I wondered how he had lived so long," Ember said, baring teeth. "Even being that good. You have my sympathy."

  "As do you." Radek smiled back.

  William cleared his throat. "Look, I don't want to interrupt, but Guide asked me to be sure to get you back to Alabaster's ship before she leaves –"

  "Yes," Ember said, but made no move to follow. "There is, however, a thing I have to say before I go. This – what you did, to give me of your life, that is the mark of brothers, and I hold it no less so between us. I name you brother, if you will have me, and my life is yours to claim."

  Radek saw William's eyebrows rise, and didn't know what to say himself. He'd never expected, never wanted, and yet – "I'm honored," he said, and realized that he meant it. He held out his hand, and Ember clasped it, awkwardly, the heavy claws scraping across Radek's skin. "Besides, you already saved my life."

  "Well," William said, after Ember walked away. "Brother to Wraith."

  Radek spread his hands. "And I was to say no to that?"

  "One more reason to stay on Atlantis. My good friend Radek is 'brother' to a Wraith cleverman." William smiled. "It's wonderful for research."

  "I didn't
think you were planning to stay," Radek said, and William shrugged.

  "One may change one's mind."

  "Yes," Radek answered. "Yes, indeed."

  The wormhole to Sateda had just opened, late that afternoon, when Mel Hocken came hurrying into the gate room, coming up to join Ronon.

  "I thought you were in the infirmary," he said.

  "I was," she said. "But it was just a little concussion. I hit my head on the canopy, but my head is pretty hard. Besides, what's a little concussion?" Mel gave him an impish grin, turning to face the wormhole. "I wanted to come along," she said. "Mr. Woolsey said it was fine."

  They stepped through into warm sun and the smell of food cooking, smoke rising from chimneys and cooking fires around the square. More of the rubble had been cleared away since the last time he'd been there, and above the broad doors of what had once been a train depot hung the banners of the Satedan Band. Cai must have been able to persuade them to post at least a token force here, to discourage any more raiding.

  "They've been busy," Hocken said.

  "Looks like it," Ronon said. He made his way across the square to the old hotel that Ushan Cai had made the headquarters of his provisional government. "I've got to talk to Cai about some things," he said.

  "So do I, actually," Hocken said. "I'll come in and wait."

  He shrugged and pushed open the doors. The lobby of the old hotel was still dimly lit by lamplight, but through the doors into what had been the bar, he could see that the glass was back in two of the windows that opened onto the square, a patchwork of irregular pieces heavily leaded to fit where once there had been perfect squares.

  Cai was talking to two women, a map spread out between them, but he raised a hand to Ronon in greeting, and Ronon nodded. He waited until they were done, Hocken turning to look out the window with the easy stance of someone used to waiting at attention.

  "Ronon," Cai said finally, as the women went out. "And Colonel Hocken. It's good to see you. We've been hoping for news from Atlantis."

  "Queen Death is dead," Ronon said. "Her alliance has fallen apart. I wanted you to know."

  "I'll drink to that." He poured drinks for them, not the strong liquor that had survived Sateda's fall but a dark beer. "Courtesy of the Genii," Cai said, tapping his own mug. "We're brewing our own, but the first new ale won't be ready for another week yet. Or so I'm told."

  "You can't rush beer," Hocken said, although he noted that she didn't touch her drink, only sensible after a head injury.

  "It won't be long."

  "There's more," Ronon said, taking a drink and trying to decide how to put the words together. "Our scientists have created a medicine, what they call a retrovirus, that makes people immune to being killed by the Wraith. The Wraith can still feed on you, but you won't die."

  Cai looked up from his mug sharply. "You're certain of this?"

  "It works on the people who've tried it. Our doctors are still testing it."

  "People have tried before. We've heard about the disaster that was the Hoffan drug."

  "This one works. And it doesn't kill Wraith who try to feed on you. It just means that you survive."

  "If so, I would think that's a great piece of good fortune."

  "That's just what people are going to think," Ronon said. "But it's a mistake. The Wraith are going to use this for their advantage. They'll still fill up their feeding cells, but they'll be able to keep those people alive forever. And instead of culling and leaving, they'll come to stay and raise us like farm animals."

  "What do they say about that in Atlantis?"

  "They want a peace treaty with the Wraith," Ronon said, putting all his skepticism into the words. "To divide up the galaxy so that Sateda and Athos and a bunch of other planets are left alone, and abandon half of the galaxy to the Wraith. They'll make them slaves and cattle."

  "The treaty isn't a done deal by any means," Hocken said, glancing sideways at Ronon. "We'll have to talk to our allies – Sateda, Athos, the Genii, the Travelers – and it's not our decision to make. It's the IOA back home that would have to be on board."

  "But it's what the Wraith are offering."

  Cai gave him a searching look. "Why are you telling me now?"

  "They're going to offer the retrovirus to Sateda," Ronon said. "I don't think we should take it. If the Wraith attack Sateda, and we know they won't kill us, it would make it just too tempting to surrender. People would be calling for the government to agree to slavery rather than death."

  "And you think I should buy them death rather than slavery?"

  "I think we should fight," Ronon said. "If it comes to that, I'd rather fight."

  "But having your retrovirus might make us better fighters," Cai said. "Better able to infiltrate Wraith hives and Wraith-controlled worlds."

  "Maybe. But I don't think it's worth it."

  "I think it might be worth it," Cai said. "But it won't be up to me alone. We're trying to put together a real government, and have elections – it's hard right now with the population changing so much day to day. It won't be this year. Maybe next year, but I wouldn't swear to that either. A decision like that will be theirs to make."

  "I'd rather trust someone I know," Ronon said. "Rather than politicians."

  "So stay and help us make sure they're good politicians," Cai said. "Better yet, stay and be one of them. You're probably our single greatest hero right now. They'd elect you anything in a heartbeat."

  "That's not me," Ronon said.

  "Think about it. When you retire, at least. Come out to Sateda and have your own house and a seat in the legislature. You may have to put in glass windows for yourself." He nodded toward the patchwork windows. "But I can't imagine you're afraid of hard work."

  "I have a job in Atlantis," Ronon said. "And good friends there. But, maybe. One of these days."

  "You'll be welcome," Cai said. "And I appreciate you telling me about this. Especially if your Mr. Woolsey didn't exactly give you permission to tell me yet." There was a question at the end of that remark.

  "I'm still Satedan," Ronon said, and Cai nodded and held out his hand. Ronon clasped it firmly, Cai's grip firm even if he wasn't a soldier.

  "Colonel Hocken, I'm glad you came along," Cai said. "I have a proposition to make to you."

  "I hoped you might," she said, her face lighting.

  "We used to have a very good army. We will again, once we have enough of a population to support one. But what we've never had is an air force, and from what I've heard about your air force on Earth, I want one."

  "A whole air force is going to take a while," Hocken said. "You're not in a position yet to build fighter planes, and I don't think ours would do you much good – you'll want something that can go through a Stargate. Plus I can't actually buy you a fighter plane. But I can buy you an ultralight." She laid her tablet on the table and pulled up pictures of a tiny, light aircraft, sailing above green hills in a very blue sky. "We'll have to figure out fuel – the Genii probably have something that'll work, if you can trade with them. And you'll want to build more, and modify the design for your own purposes. But right away you'll be able to scout a lot further than you can on foot, and look for people who may still be out there, cut off from big cities and the gate."

  "That would be worth a great deal to us," Cai said. "Say, a commission as the chief of the new Satedan Air Force? I can't actually pay you right now, mind you. But I'm certain that the new government will as soon as it can."

  "That's not really what matters most to me," Hocken said. "It's the chance to do it, with nothing holding me back." She shook her head. "I've been waiting too long for that to happen in our air force. I'm tired of waiting to start my life."

  "There's one waiting for you here," Cai said.

  "I'll be out at the end of the year," Hocken said. "And I'll bring you all the equipment I can. If I pull out all my savings–" Her expression was speculative as she scrolled rapidly through lists of airplane parts.

  "I don't know i
f Woolsey's going to approve you supplying all this tech to the Satedans," Ronon said.

  "That's just too bad, isn't it?" Hocken said, raising her chin. "I'll be a private citizen, and none of this is classified military technology. If I want to move out to Sateda, and accept Satedan citizenship–" She looked questioningly at Cai, who nodded. "Then all I need is for someone to give me a ride out to Pegasus, and I imagine I can talk somebody into it."

  "We'll be glad to have you," Cai said. He offered her his hand, and she clasped his arm firmly in the Satedan fashion, her smile delighted. "You're sure we can't lure you away from Atlantis as well?" he said, glancing over at Ronon.

  "Not yet," Ronon said.

  Cai nodded. "Whenever you're ready, we'll be here."

  "I'm glad," Ronon said. Outside the patchwork windows, people were crossing the square, and one woman lifted a toddler on her shoulder; the little boy reached up toward the sky, where a flock of birds arrowed across the brilliant blue.

  Above the waves that broke white against the piers there was an ocean of stars. It was hours yet until dawn, but the wind which whispered around the towers was soft with the promise of coming spring. The Wraith cruiser Eternal occupied the south pier, a dark shape against sky and sea. At the bottom of the ramp two figures stood, an arm's length between them. Only their hands touched, her hand about his wrist, Teyla and Todd.

  "What do you suppose they're talking about?" Sam asked. Her voice sounded curious and just a little bit wistful.

  "Who knows," Rodney said. He had some idea, but he didn't want to think about that. Even if he healed, especially if he healed and the telepathy went away, he'd be forever sealed off from that communion. He'd never know that kind of intimacy again, mind to mind, quick as thought.

  "Rodney?"

  "Yes?"

  "What happened?" He looked around at her. Sam's face was still. "On the puddle jumper. I don't see how you got out before impact. I don't see how you could have done that."

  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Rodney said.