SGA 22 Legacy 7 Unascended

by Jo Graham

  “Ronon,” John said firmly.

  “I’ve always thought it was unwise to become too attached to pets,” Guide said. “They never live long.”

  Alabaster looked quellingly at Guide.

  “You look very familiar,” Daniel said to Guide, because it seemed like they were sliding into a conversational abyss that desperately needed filling. “I wonder if the hive I visited in a parallel universe was a version of yours.”

  Guide looked at Alabaster. Alabaster put her head to one side and looked at Daniel as if she weren’t sure she had understood him correctly. “Tell me about this other universe.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” John said.

  Daniel glanced sideways at him. “How can it hurt anything? We were sent there by accident and we don’t know how to get back, so it’s not like we’re giving away valuable information. And if I understand the theory, there are an infinite number of parallel universes, so basically anything that can possibly happen did happen somewhere. So whatever I say about that universe can’t possibly be a surprise.”

  “You’re going to tell them no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

  Daniel shrugged one shoulder, not feeling the need to answer that question directly. “We accidentally wound up displaced in our quantum state so that we were in an alternate reality,” he said. “Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”

  “I have heard of such things,” Alabaster said.

  “Okay, good. I can’t tell you how it worked

  —

  well, I wouldn’t tell you how it worked if I could, but I also genuinely don’t understand how it worked. I’m not that kind of scientist. Anyway, in the other reality, the Atlantis mission wasn’t doing so well

  —”

  “How unfortunate,” Guide said mildly.

  “—

  and I was taken captive by a Wraith hive. You were one of the ship’s officers, I think,” he said to Guide. “But the queen wasn’t Alabaster. She looked a lot like her, but… older, I think. It wasn’t the same person.”

  “So you have met another Osprey queen,” Alabaster said. He wasn’t sure what to make of her tone. “There are few of that line left. I suppose she did not favor you with her name?”

  “No. I don’t think she was used to having long conversations with her human prisoners, frankly. The only Wraith who actually introduced himself to me was called Seeker.” He could see both Guide and Alabaster react, although he wasn’t certain why. It pricked his curiosity. “You know that name.”

  “He was one of the lords of my mother’s zenana,” Alabaster said after a moment. “Her Master of Sciences Biological.”

  “He kept pets,” Guide said. “I always told him that one of them would stab him in his sleep someday.” He sounded more nostalgic than annoyed.

  “Perhaps one might have, had he lived so long,” Alabaster said. “He was killed when my mother’s hive was destroyed by her rivals. I escaped, only to be trapped on this planet without a gate for many years.” She raised her chin to look at Guide, who bent his head at her expression. “Besides my son, my human ‘pets’ were my only company.”

  “There was a younger queen aboard the hive, but I don’t think that she was you,” Daniel said.

  Alabaster shrugged. She circled him as she spoke; it might have been only an unconsciously threatening gesture, but it made him glad he had submitted to the retrovirus injection and endured an uncomfortable afternoon’s illness as a result. “Perhaps a sister. Or perhaps in a different universe, my mother had different priorities about what sort of daughter to give to our lineage. We do not leave breeding as much to chance as humans do. “

  “How exactly… ” Daniel began, and then noticed John’s look of impatience. “That’s probably not important right now. I’d be very interested in talking to you at some point about Wraith society, though.”

  “Your new cleverman is curious,” Alabaster said to Teyla.

  “He is visiting from our home world,” Teyla said.

  Alabaster looked him up and down. “A pallax of She Who Carries Many Things?”

  “Daniel Jackson is a colleague of Colonel Carter,” Teyla said. Daniel wasn’t sure if that constituted agreement with Alabaster or not.

  “Her consort’s son,” Alabaster said, as if putting pieces together. She nodded slightly more respectfully to Daniel.

  It took him a moment to put that one together himself. “Oh, no,” he said. “No, no. That’s not

  —

  Jack is actually a very common name

  —”

  “The Asgard,” John said doggedly. “We’re here to find out what you know about the Asgard.”

  “And I wouldn’t say that Jack is her

  —”

  “We are very interested in any information you can share,” Teyla said smoothly.

  Alabaster stopped circling Daniel, to his relief, and settled herself back in her chair. She looked up at them, considering. “My people took little notice of the Vanir

  —

  the ones you call the Asgard

  —

  when they first appeared in this galaxy. We thought at first they were some misbegotten experiment of the Lanteans. As they did not attack us, we paid them little mind. We had enough trouble with the Lanteans.”

  “Only then you won the war and the Lanteans abandoned the Pegasus Galaxy,” Daniel said.

  “And the Vanir began expanding their territory. They began experimenting on humans on worlds that were within our feeding territories. We investigated, and it became clear that we had encountered a new and technologically advanced species.”

  “More advanced than you,” Rodney said.

  Alabaster didn’t seem to take offense, although Daniel felt that had lacked tact. “In some ways, they were more advanced even than the Lanteans, although their ships proved more fragile than the Lantean vessels. There were clevermen among them who were continuing to improve their technology even as we observed them. It became clear that we could not risk letting them live.”

  “Of course not,” Ronon said.

  Alabaster looked up at him, meeting his eyes calmly. “I might have argued for a different choice, had I lived in those times,” she said. “But my people were vulnerable, after our long war with the Lanteans. And the Vanir were not even our distant kin, as the Lanteans were. We did not think of them as people, and they were too dangerous to hunt for food.” Alabaster shrugged, as if that led to a foregone conclusion.

  “We’re looking for any of their early settlement sites,” Daniel said. “Places they may have lived before the Wraith pushed them back to the single planet they inhabit now, or where they may have conducted their experiments on humans.”

  “It was long before my time,” Alabaster said, looking up at Guide.

  “Not before mine,” Guide said. “But Snow’s hive never fought the Vanir, or paid them any attention. They did not infest any worlds within our feeding territory.”

  “You said you knew something about them, though,” Daniel said.

  “One of my clevermen does,” Alabaster says. “He is called Ember, and he was born on a hive that fought against the Vanir long ago. He says he remembers the location of some of their outposts, and may have learned something of their technology from the devices they left behind.”

  “He’s one of Guide’s men,” John said. “He did some work with Zelenka when we were dealing with Queen Death.”

  “He is now one of my men,” Alabaster said, her tone sharp. “My father does not rule in my hive. Much as I value his counsel.”

  Daniel couldn’t help glancing at Guide to see how he’d taken that; he wasn’t sure himself whether it worked out to a compliment or to being put in his place. Guide bared his teeth

  —

  was that a smile?

  —

  and then sketched an elaborate bow.

  “As my queen says.”

  He was itching to understand the context for that bit
of byplay better. Guide was Alabaster’s father, which had given him status, and probably the role of supervising her as a child, but as an adult Wraith queen, she was

  —

  had to be

  —

  in charge. It couldn’t be an easy transition, though, under the best of circumstances, and Guide had been in command of his own queenless hive for years.

  Alabaster’s eyes met Guide’s for a moment, and he had the sense of silent communication. He wondered if it amounted to we are not arguing in front of the humans.

  “Is your cleverman Ember here?” Teyla asked Alabaster. “May we speak to him?”

  Alabaster rested her hands on the armrests of the chair, her long claws dark against the woven reeds. “I have not yet heard what you offer in exchange for this information.”

  “I don’t suppose our friendship is enough, here.” John said.

  Alabaster tilted her head to one side. “Do you threaten that our people will not be friends if we do not share this information with you?”

  “We aren’t friends now,” Ronon said.

  “Ronon,” John growled.

  “What do you want in return for the information?” Teyla asked.

  Alabaster leaned back in her chair. “Make me an offer,” she said.

  “We’d be willing to share the information we learn with you,” Daniel said.

  “Whoa, wait,” John said. “We haven’t actually been authorized to do that.”

  “No one said we couldn’t do that.”

  “We try not to operate on the basis of ‘everything that’s not expressly forbidden is permitted’ around here.”

  “I don’t know, a lot of the time… ” Rodney began, and John shot him a sharp look. “Okay, no. We can’t just hand over Asgard technology without permission.”

  “Are you expecting to find examples of their technology?” Alabaster asked with interest.

  “Mainly we’re hoping to understand more about early Asgard settlement of this galaxy,” Daniel said. “Which may or may not include finding any technology they left behind.”

  “It seems to me that if you will not share your discoveries, we would be making a poor bargain,” Alabaster said. “It would be better to send our own men to investigate the sites Ember remembers, if you believe there is useful technology to be found there.”

  “I am sure we can come to some agreement,” Teyla said, looking as if she wished she could hit with a stick the next person on her team who spoke. “We are willing to make the effort to search these sites, with no guarantee that we will find anything of interest. And we will accept any risks involved.”

  “Like being chased by dinosaurs who set fires,” Rodney said.

  “They were just big birds,” Ronon said.

  “The best-preserved sites are likely to be on worlds that are uninhabited by humans,” Teyla went on. “We are both aware that those worlds are usually uninhabited for a reason. We are willing to do the work of investigating with all its attendant dangers, and to share any information about the history of the Asgard that we learn with you.”

  “We are uninterested in the history of these creatures,” Alabaster said. “But not entirely uninterested in their technology. We will share our information with you if you are willing to share your discoveries with us.”

  “We need to talk about this,” John said. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

  “We are not going anywhere,” Alabaster said, leaning back in her chair. She glanced at one of her male attendants, who hurried to bring her a cup of water.

  They stepped back into Pilgrim House, where Jennifer was bending over the bed of a man with an injured leg, checking his bandages. She patted his hand reassuringly and spoke quietly to his family before coming over to join them.

  “Well?” she said.

  “We can’t give the Wraith Asgard technology,” John said bluntly.

  “Oh,” Jennifer said. “Yeah, probably not.”

  “Why not?” Daniel asked. “What we have is a weather machine. Part of a weather machine. And what we’re looking for is more climate control technology, right? The Wraith don’t live on planets. They need a weather machine like a fish needs a bicycle.”

  “They could use it to improve their shipboard life support systems.”

  “Sure, maybe, but under what circumstances is that going to give them a serious tactical advantage, especially if we have the same technology? I’m just saying, this isn’t something they’re likely to find useful or interesting when they see it.”

  “And what if we find something else?” Rodney said. He glanced at Jennifer for support, probably unconsciously, and Jennifer nodded.

  “Which you might.”

  Daniel shrugged. “What if they go looking themselves and find something else? I mean, now that we’ve put the idea in their heads.”

  “Which was your idea,” John pointed out grimly.

  “I know. I’m just saying, I think we’re all better off if we’re the ones who investigate the sites, even if that means sending the Wraith some information about what we find. Because if the Wraith find something interesting on their own, they’re not going to come running to share it with us.”

  John gritted his teeth. “Okay. I see your point. But if we find a cache of Asgard weapons

  —”

  “Doctor Jackson has said that is highly unlikely,” Teyla said. She gave them all a pointed look, which Daniel tentatively translated as let’s not plan to double-cross the telepathic aliens in front of the telepathic aliens.

  “It is,” Daniel said. “Highly unlikely.”

  “All right,” John said grudgingly. “Let’s go make a deal.”

  Alabaster looked up as they came back into the tent. “Have you consulted with your men to your satisfaction?”

  “Indeed I have,” Teyla said. “We are willing to share anything we learn from the Asgard sites with you, including information about their technology. That said, as we are the ones investigating the sites, any actual artifacts that we find will of course remain with us.”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” Alabaster said. She glanced up at Guide, who met her eyes for a long moment without speaking aloud. “This is acceptable to us,” she said. “I will send Ember with you to show you the location of the worlds he remembers.”

  “We only need to speak with him,” Teyla said.

  Alabaster smiled, and he did think that was a smile. She looked like someone enjoying a well-played game of chess. “And yet if none of my men goes with you to the sites, how will I know that you are not holding back information about your best discoveries?”

  “Would we do that?” John said.

  “We would in your place,” Alabaster said. “It would be foolish not to, and surely you do not take me for a fool.”

  “All right,” John said. “He can come back with us to Atlantis. We’ll talk to Woolsey about it and see what we can work out.”

  “And I will instruct Ember that he is not to share information with you unless he is permitted to accompany you to investigate the settlement sites.”

  “I think we understand each other,” John said.

  Alabaster looked amused. “So we do.” She looked up at Jennifer. “If we are finished with this matter, you may send in the next of the pilgrims.”

  Jennifer’s eyes went to Ronon, who had stiffened visibly at the words. “I don’t think you’re going to want to see this,” she said.

  “I don’t,” Ronon said, and walked out.

  “I’m not sure any of us want to see this,” John said. “I’ll go with Ronon.”

  “Well, it’s my job, so here I am,” Jennifer said.

  “Actually, I’d like to observe if that’s appropriate,” Daniel said. “I assume there’s some kind of ritual around the process?”

  “Perhaps another time,” Teyla said, looking at Rodney, whose expression was hard for Daniel to read. “I think it is best if we wait outside.”

  “As you like,” Alabaster said, as t
he man with the injured leg came in, supported by his wife and a younger man who looked like his son. The two of them began helping him to kneel in front of Alabaster.

  “This is Edric,” Jennifer said, checking a mark on the younger man’s arm circled in black Sharpie. One of the Wraith made notes on a handheld device. “In experimental group two. Retrovirus administered three days ago.”

  As they went out, the younger man knelt beside his father, and Alabaster stood. Daniel had time to see that her claws were very sharp indeed, and the mouth-like slit on her feeding hand very dark against her pale blue skin, before Teyla drew the door firmly closed between them.

  SGA-22 Unascended

  CHAPTER NINE

  While they waited for Ember to arrive, Rodney took the opportunity to say goodbye to Jennifer. He wasn’t sure what there was to say that they hadn’t said already when she left Atlantis, but he also couldn’t just walk away without a word. The rest of the team were politely pretending to be interested in examining the other end of the long room, with the exception of Ronon, who was still nowhere to be seen.

  “You’re really all right,” Rodney said.

  “I’m really all right. Living on a Wraith hive is… interesting.”

  “I would think disturbing. Maybe bordering on traumatic.”

  “Well, I’ve had the retrovirus, so there’s that,” Jennifer said. “And I stay away from the feeding cells.”

  The memory was intense and overwhelming: standing in the feeding cells, consumed by hunger, every instinct telling him that the humans hanging there were food. For a moment his feeding hand cramped with hunger, even though when he looked down, his palm was entirely human, the skin unmarked.

  “Rodney?” Jennifer said in concern.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know it’s disturbing. Believe me, I’m disturbed. But at least while we’re running these trials, every person who’s had the retrovirus who gets fed on is one fewer person who gets eaten. And it gives me the opportunity to make a case for having humans aboard under relatively humane conditions.”

  “Voluntarily, or… ”

  Jennifer shrugged. “Is Newton in Atlantis voluntarily?”

  “Newton is a cat. We couldn’t exactly have him sign a consent form.”