by Jo Graham
“No. Come on in. Shut the door.” Sam turned away from her desk. She had an mp3 player going, little speakers belting out the end of Madonna’s Crazy For You.
John gave the door a shove. “Bubblegum pop,” he said. “Not quite what I expected.”
“Hey, it’s a vice,” Sam said. “I’d offer you a chair but I don’t have room in here for two. So pull up a corner of bed.”
John sat down on the end of the bed as the song changed, feeling vaguely weird about it, but this was Carter.
“I’ve got some Grateful Dead on here too,” she said, swiveling the chair around to face him.
“Touch of Grey,” John said, recognizing the opening bars. “That’s more like it.” He was starting to get a headache and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something before I left.”
Her smile faded. “You’re not going anywhere, John.”
“I’m going with Teyla and Keller to meet Todd,” he said.
Sam shook her head. “No, you’re not.” She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “You’re in command in Atlantis, John. You can’t just leave.”
“Look, Teyla and Keller are going into this thing…”
She cut him off. “Yes. And that’s their job. Being here, running Atlantis, is yours.”
“You’re here.”
“The Hammond is my job,” she said. “Atlantis is yours.” Sam shook her head, but her eyes were kind. “You’re not company grade anymore. You’re not a captain who’s supposed to run around shooting bad guys. You’re a lieutenant colonel, and you’re in charge of everything that happens in this city. Safeguarding Atlantis is your job, and that means being here and making the big decisions, not going off for two weeks on a mission where nobody can reach you.” Sam’s mouth quirked in a sideways smile. “I know that’s a rough transition. The first time we walked through that gate on a mission without Jack after he was promoted I thought he was going to come running and screaming up the ramp after us. But he didn’t. That wasn’t his job anymore.”
“If Todd double-crosses,” John began.
“If you think he’s not on the up and up, you’ve got to call it off,” Sam said. “And if he is, then Jennifer and Teyla don’t need you.” Her eyes were very blue and met his firmly. “This is her job, John. It’s her mission, not yours. You’ve got to let her take her knocks and learn to live with that, or call it off with her. That’s the price of a relationship with a comrade in arms. And for a lot of people it’s too high.”
John swallowed, seeing again in his mind’s eye the cold night sky over the desert, the Milky Way like a ribbon of light. “It’s real high,” he said quietly.
“I know.” Her eyes didn’t evade his. “You’re the only person who can decide if it’s worth it to you. But you have to let her go. Teyla’s a grown woman. She’s smart, competent, talented, the whole package. And she’s the one who can do this. You can’t hold her back because you want to take care of her, and you can’t tag along to hold her hand. You’ve got to trust her.”
“I do trust her,” he said. “More than anybody.” John looked down at his hands, at Carter’s email open on her computer. “Teyla’s level headed and she’s tough. She doesn’t wander off like McKay or get fixated like Ronon. She’s always exactly where she’s supposed to be, doing the thing she’s supposed to be doing.”
“And if it weren’t Teyla you’d wish her Godspeed,” Sam said thoughtfully. “There’s no regulation against it because she’s a civilian contractor. But that’s what the rules are for, John. Because emotions get complicated.”
“They get complicated whether or not you do anything about them,” John said. Desert sky spreading from horizon to horizon, a cold night wind blowing.
Sam snorted. “Tell me about it.”
John took a deep breath, lifted his head. “You’ve seen my record, right?”
She didn’t look away. “Yes, John. I’ve seen it. When I was appointed CO in Atlantis.”
He swallowed hard. “Well.”
Sam glanced quickly at the speakers, still blaring the Grateful Dead loud enough to cover conversation. “For what it’s worth, I’d have gone after him too. Not that it means anything.”
“It does,” John said. His mouth was dry.
“Sometimes you lose,” Sam said. “You do the best you can, and you lose people anyhow.” She glanced over at the pictures held to the wall over the desk with magnets. “You know that. It takes a certain kind of fool to raise the stakes when you don’t have a very good hand.” The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened as she smiled. “But sometimes you win the jackpot.”
“Yeah,” John said ruefully. “A certain kind of fool.”
“If you’re not going to fold, you have to learn to live with it,” she said. “It’s one of those compromises with life.”
“Like the anti-frat rules,” John said.
“Yeah.” Sam pursed her lips. “Like that. They’re there to protect women, every woman in the service down to Airman Salawi. They’re there to keep people from abusing authority, because you can’t give officers unlimited power without checks on it. When you break a rule like that, it’s bad for every woman in the service. You can tell yourself that this situation’s different and that you’re special, but you know it’s wrong. It’s still wrong.” She looked at him and shrugged. “Unlike some other regs that are just plain stupid. Just in case you didn’t know I thought that.”
“I kind of figured,” John said. He swallowed hard again. “You know Mel Hocken is a good friend of mine from way back…”
“Don’t tell me anything I don’t want to hear,” Sam said, straightening up in her chair. “I’m her CO while Caldwell has her flight attached to the Hammond, and I don’t want to hear anything I can’t say under oath.”
“Got it,” John said.
“I don’t ask, and they don’t tell. If I never heard it spelled out, it’s not perjury to say I don’t know,” Sam said.
“I won’t put you in that position.” John nodded. “I get that. Believe me, there have been plenty of things around here I sure don’t know anything about. I don’t ask either.”
Sam pushed her chair back and put her feet up on the edge of the bed. “Teyla will be fine,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of respect for her. And she can handle Todd better than anybody else. Teyla and Keller will do this, and we’ll find out if this idea even works. If it doesn’t, there’s no point in going through all the convolutions.”
“Right,” John said. “No point in borrowing trouble.”
“That’s what I always say,” Sam said.
Jennifer watched Teyla where she stood at the controls of the Wraith cruiser, trying not to distract her from whatever course adjustments she was making. Her head was back, eyes closed, hair falling like black silk to her waist. The way her face was tilted to the ceiling, absolutely serene, hands outstretched on the control grips in front of her, she looked like a statue.
Jennifer shifted on the control room’s only chair, wishing a little of that peace would rub off on her. It was perversely always easier for her to find it in the middle of a crisis than when all she could do was sit around and wait. It didn’t help that Teyla was lost in concentration flying the ship and not talking.
She felt it as the ship changed course, Teyla shifting her weight as it did, maybe in reaction to the ship’s motion or maybe as encouragement. The curtain of her hair swayed gently from side to side as if she really was bending her head in prayer, as if she was moved by the spirit Jennifer had never felt, even when she’d wanted to. She’d thought that medicine was going to be that for her, a calling, a vocation, and in a lot of ways it was, but she still wished that something would transcend all, would make it all fall into place for her. She’d thought maybe she’d find that with Rodney…
“We have arrived,” Teyla said, her eyes opening at last, her shoulders relaxing as she stepped away from the controls.
Jennifer nodded and stood, shoul
dering her bag. “Well,” she said. “What now?”
Teyla turned to the wall, and it shifted as Jennifer watched, forming a door that parted before Teyla like veils of flesh drawing back. “Now we pay a visit to my hive.”
Guide met them himself, alone. He could have come before her guarded by drones and loyal blades, but there was little point in that. He suspected no treachery from Teyla Emmagan, and suspected that a gesture of trust would make her soften to him. He told himself that it was not that any part of his mind flinched at the thought of coming armed against his queen.
When the walls of the ship parted he was glad of his decision. Her mind leapt for his and tightened without a word, as clear a threat as any weapon, or perhaps just a reminder of the natural order of things, as unnatural as the present situation was. He inclined his head as if she were what she pretended to be, the barest reverence possible in courtesy.
“My queen,” he said, and he could feel her flash of pleasure at the words. For a moment it was hard not to think of her as an adolescent girl-child who has gotten away with playing at queen, commanding her mother’s drones. Then she strode forward, promise and threat in her every move, and it was impossible to imagine her a child.
“I am pleased to see my consort again,” she said, a hint of amusement in the touch of her mind, although there was none in her words. He nodded and shifted his gaze to Dr. Keller, hesitating halfway down the ramp, clutching the strap of an oversized her pack. This one he would have to handle more carefully if he was not going to frighten her into uselessness.
“Dr. Keller,” he said. “Come, we have work to do.” He extended his off hand to her when she seemed reluctant to descend the ramp. “I will escort you.”
*If you hurt her — * Teyla began, giving him a warning look. He met her eyes with a wry shrug.
*What would it serve? I am in need of a biological scientist, not an easy meal.*
*You would not find it easy,* Teyla said, and her mental voice was sharp enough that again he thought Steelflower was well-named.
The threat lingered as he kept his hand extended, and sharpened as Keller laid her fingertips gingerly on his. He couldn’t tell if her expression was fear or the fascination of a prey animal touching a predator’s claws. It was so hard to tell with humans.
“I’m glad you asked me to come,” Keller said, letting him help her down the ramp, although her fingers were tense against his. “That you … well, that you trusted me enough, after last time. I really am sorry that didn’t work out.”
Guide inclined his head, acknowledging the apology without pausing to question what it meant for her to offer or for him to accept. “Perhaps we can learn from past mistakes. Come,” he said, releasing her hand as she reached the bottom of the ramp, “let me show you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Challenger
The infirmary was quiet and empty except for Eva Robinson, who was sitting up in the near bed with her leg in a cast propped up on two pillows, her laptop across her middle as Colonel Sheppard came in and looked around, his hands in the pockets of his black BDUs. Eva closed Plants vs. Zombies quickly. If she couldn’t maintain the professional demeanor of make-up and nice looking clothes while stuck in the infirmary, at least she could pretend she was working. “If you’re looking for Dr. Beckett, he’s in the back doing an MRI on Lance Corporal Hernandez,” she said helpfully.
Sheppard came over and perched on the visitor’s stool beside her bed. “What happened to Hernandez?”
“He slipped on the ice and fell down the outside metal staircase. Laura…Captain Cadman said he had to have an MRI to make sure he didn’t have a concussion since he’s got a big lump on his head.” She closed her laptop. “I expect Dr. Beckett won’t be too long.”
“Actually, I was looking for you,” he said.
Eva felt her eyebrows rise. “Why?’
Sheppard’s hazel eyes were steady. “To see how you are,” he said. “You got injured in the field, a pretty nasty break from what Sam’s medical officer said, and you still did what you needed to do to complete the mission. I came to see how you were getting along.”
“Oh,” Eva said. His team, his responsibility. She supposed that made her his people. “I’m doing ok. Dr. Beckett said he’ll let me out of here on crutches tomorrow. I’ll be in this cast for six weeks, and then he’ll take that off and put on a removable brace for another four weeks.”
Sheppard shifted on the stool, getting comfortable. “Ever break a bone before?”
“I broke my arm falling off my bike when I was a kid,” Eva said. “I don’t remember it being this much of a pain, though.”
“They say kids heal quicker too,” Sheppard said.
“At least I don’t have a double compound fracture like Major Lorne,” Eva said. She looked down at her cast with some satisfaction. “This one’s just a plain old broken leg.”
“Yeah, Lorne’s still off that leg for another eight weeks,” Sheppard said. “And then he’s got a month or two of PT before he’s on active duty.”
“Wouldn’t it make sense to send somebody home when they’re going to be out for four or five months?” Eva asked.
Sheppard grinned. “Do you want to go home?”
“No.” Eva glanced down at her laptop quickly. “Besides, my job’s mostly talk. As soon as I can get around on crutches I can get back to work.”
“And you’d never get back.” Sheppard shrugged. “We only send home the people we can’t safely treat here. Right now we can only send people home on the Daedalus or the Hammond, and so we just evacuate serious injuries. Daedalus took Sam’s people who had third degree burns. We’re not equipped as a burn center. We sent Conrad because he needed a second surgery on his intestinal tract, and that’s out of Carson’s league. And we can only send them when they’re stable. Anybody fragile stays here, rather than six days down to the first Milky Way gate on Daedalus. Then they go through to the SGC, and from there to the Air Force Academy hospital.”
“I’m glad not to do all that,” Eva said.
“No point in it,” Sheppard said, propping his foot up on the bottom of the bed rail. “You’ll be up and around and back to work, like you said. It’s driving Lorne crazy to be stuck behind a desk for months, but there’s plenty for him to do, especially with Woolsey gone.”
“I’ll bet,” Eva said. Sheppard didn’t strike her as an administrator, though; from what she’d seen his paperwork was unremarkable. Still, there was a huge amount of it to run the city, and if the redoubtable Lorne could take on some of it, no doubt it would be a help. “Do you think Mr. Woolsey is going to come back?”
She didn’t really expect an answer, but Sheppard leaned back as though considering thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he said. “It depends on a lot. On how pissed the IOA is about Atlantis leaving Earth. On how high O’Neill’s cred is with the President. On a bunch of stuff we don’t even know about.”
“And if it isn’t him, will it be you?” She couldn’t help but ask, inappropriate as the question no doubt was. After all, this was just for her curiosity. Well, and to satisfy her anxiety about what would happen next.
To her surprise Sheppard grinned. “Not on your life! I already turned it down once. I asked to be taken off the final list before Sam was offered the job.”
“You did?”
He nodded, ducking his head and adjusting his earpiece over his ear. “I’m not cut out for that. I’ve filled in before, after we lost Dr. Weir. And I’m fine with that, if I have to do it.” Sheppard shook his head. “But I’m not a politician. And that’s what about half of the job is. I’m no good at that, and just smart enough to know it.” He grinned again, a surprisingly candid expression. “I’ll leave that to Sam and O’Neill and Woolsey and Teyla. Just tell me what to shoot, and I’m good.”
Eva couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about Sheppard that left you with confidence in him, even when he was telling you his shortcomings. “And yet right now this whole thin
g with the Wraith is on you.”
His smile faded. “We’ve all got to do some things that are out of our comfort zones,” he said. “You’re not a jumper pilot, right? Or part of an exploration team. But now you have been.”
“That’s true,” Eva said. There had been a moment, trapped under the ice, that she had been pretty certain she wasn’t going to get out. She’d wondered who would tell her daughter and what they’d say had happened to her. She’d wondered, in an almost detached kind of way, how they’d explain to Desireé what had happened on a nice, safe job as a contract psychologist. And then she’d heard the voices above, Ronon and Laura and Dr. Lynn, Dr. Lynn calling out, “It’s ok! We’re coming for you.” The leg hurt a lot, but not as bad as having Desireé. And that was worth it too.
“You did a good job,” Sheppard said. “Who knows what’s in that Ancient installation? It’s going to take a lot of work to get it cleared out, and we may find things that turn out to be critical.” He uncoiled from the stool and leaned over and squeezed her shoulder. “So hang in there, feel better, and in a couple of days you’ll be back to head shrinking.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he was good at his job too. But that might be way too frank. “And I’ll see you in my office, right?” she asked, her tone leaving it half a joke.
Sheppard gave her a sideways smile. “When hell freezes over,” he said.
“I’ve got my ice skates.”
“Save them for Rodney,” he said, and winked as he turned and left.
Eva leaned back on her pillows. She hoped he felt as much better as she did.
John slid his tray onto the lunch table opposite Sam. “Anybody sitting here?”
“I think they’re afraid to,” Sam said, a look of amusement on her face as she glanced around the half empty mess hall. “The loneliness of command.”
