Stargate Atlantis: Third Path: Book 8 in the Legacy series

by Melissa Scott

  There was a little silence, a withdrawal, and then Zelenka shrugged. “Well. I have done it before —”

  “But not this time,” Lorne said grimly. “And we’re not discussing it here. Everyone, back to the gate room.”

  “The readings,” Ember began.

  “I’ll stay with the experiment,” Sindye said, and Ember let himself be drawn away.

  “And if I volunteer,” Zelenka began, and Lorne shook his head again.

  “Sorry, Doc. I know feeding won’t kill you, but every evidence is that it knocks you out, and we can’t afford to put you out of commission right now. You’re not an option.”

  Zelenka said something under his breath. “Nonetheless —”

  “Yeah, I know.” Lorne glanced around the gate room, as though he were assessing who had taken the retrovirus and who he could best spare. Someone young and strong, Ember thought, shivering in spite of himself. Someone whose life-force sang with energy. He could feel a dozen of them here, every life worthy of tasting, each one enough to sustain him. He closed his hands into tight fists, ashamed and hungry.

  “Excuse me, Major?” That was a woman’s voice, one of the crew sitting mostly idle at the consoles that monitored the Stargate. “Are you looking for volunteers for, um, the Wraith?”

  “He’s got to feed,” Lorne said, his voice still grim. “We need him if we’re going to get rid of this damn bacteria.”

  “Yes, sir.” The woman squared her shoulders. “Sir, I volunteer.”

  “Salawi?”

  “I’ve had the retrovirus, sir. No side effects. And right now I’m not doing much of anything.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Airman.”

  “Somebody has to,” Salawi said.

  There was a silence that seemed to stretch into infinity. She was close enough that Ember could sense her life-force, cool and sharp as electricity beneath her skin. She was strong enough that he could afford to drink deep, to take everything that he needed — the retrovirus would protect her from any serious harm.

  “I do not think,” Zelenka began, and Lorne shook his head.

  “It’s not going to be you, Doc. No way.” He took a deep breath. “All right, Salawi. And — thank you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Salawi said, and hesitated for the first time. “Sir, where —?”

  “Somewhere private,” Zelenka said sharply.

  “My office,” Lorne said, in the same moment, and Zelenka nodded.

  “Ember. This way.”

  The room Lorne called his office was small and warm, with another long narrow window looking out onto a platform between the city’s towers. At the moment, it was full of sunlight, and Ember blinked, startled. He had lost track of the planet’s cycle in his focus on the bacteria; he had thought it was night, if he had thought about it at all. Lorne crowded in behind him, followed by a woman with a medic’s kit; Zelenka pushed in, too, and the two Marines took up their places just inside the door. Salawi seated herself cautiously in Lorne’s well-padded chair, and gave Ember a wary glance.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “If you would unfasten your shirt. Just the top buttons. Please.” Ember kept his voice steady with an effort that made him tremble. He was starving, wanted nothing more than to drive his hand against her chest and drain every drop of the energy he craved, but with the other humans watching, he was seized with a strange sense of shame. This was all wrong, he should not have to feed so publicly, not on this woman who bore herself like a young queen. He could feel the Marines at his back, knew that their weapons were cocked and ready. He took a shuddering breath, and then another, and saw Lorne frown.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Ember shook his head. This was wrong, it went against every instinct, everything he had ever been taught; humans were kine, they were food, they could not give life, offer sustenance as Wraith did to Wraith… And if he did not feed, he would die. He went to his one knee beside her chair, suddenly unwilling to loom over her, and lifted his feeding hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice was thin but determined.

  Ember laid his hand against her chest, the skin hot against his handmouth. He flexed his claws, and saw her flinch, felt the enzyme begin to pulse in his vein and the life-force begin to flow, just as cool and sharp as he had imagined, like sparks fizzing beneath his skin. He wanted, oh, he wanted to drink it all, to rip and tear and finally be filled, but he controlled himself, drawing it from her as carefully as he would draw sustenance from a hivemate, a brother, from a lover. She closed her eyes, her mouth twisting, and still he drank, feeling his own flesh ease and soften. She winced again, and he slowed his pull, then fed a bit of the life-force back to her, as he would to another Wraith, as was only polite and kind and proper. And that was too much to understand, but he was fed at last. He relaxed his fingers, freeing his handmouth and loosing his claws, and sank back onto his heels. He heard her gasp and looked up warily to see her straightening herself in the chair.

  “Airman?” Lorne said. “Chauncey, check her out.”

  “Yes, sir,” the medic said, and dragged her kit to the other side of the chair.

  “I’m… all right, sir.” Salawi’s voice was faint but definite. “Just really tired.”

  Ember rose to his feet, new strength coursing through him. Physically, he was restored, but mentally… If these were not kine, he did not know what they were; this was forbidden territory, the deepest taboo, and he refused to think about it. “I must get back to work.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Zelenka said, his voice briskly matter-of-fact. “Come.”

  Ember followed him past the Marines, knowing that his own movements were more fluid than they had been in days.

  “You look better,” Zelenka said. “And — you did not hurt her.”

  “I am learning,” Ember said, and flung his hair back over his shoulders. “Now. We have work to do.”

  Ford got to his feet when John opened the door of the common lounge on the Travelers’ ship. “Colonel Sheppard.”

  “As you were.” John glanced around the room, eyes falling on the electric pot warming in the corner. “Want some tea?”

  “I don’t drink tea,” Ford said bemusedly.

  “I do.” John poured some into a stainless steel handleless cup, dark and sweet, smelling faintly of smoke. Did they dry the leaves over wood fires? He took his time, then came and sat down at the little table, motioning for Ford to sit opposite.

  Ford was watching him warily, but he took his seat. “What do the Wraith say?”

  “They’re willing to offer a deal.”

  Ford snorted. “And you trust the Wraith.”

  “I trust these guys,” John said. “They’ve been as good as their word before.”

  “You’re going to turn me over to them.” Ford shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  “That’s not what the deal is.” John cupped his hands around the warm tea. He took a long sip. “The deal is that you leave the Pegasus Galaxy, go back to Earth, and never return. Atelia and Jordan can come with you.”

  Ford looked stunned. As he ought to, John thought. He took another sip of tea.

  “I can’t do that,” Ford said slowly. “I can’t just leave. This…” Words failed him.

  John took another drink, marshaling his thoughts. “Let me tell you about this news story I read a little while ago. It was about this Japanese guy. He’d been a soldier in World War II and he got stranded on a tropical island. He was stuck there for a long time, forty years. And when people showed up, when they tried to rescue him, he didn’t believe them. You see, he thought the war was still going on. He didn’t believe it when they told him that it had been over since before they were born.” He met Ford’s eyes across the table. “Finally they had to go get his old CO who was like ninety to go tell him that the war was over.”

  Ford’s face didn’t change. “You think I’m like that guy.”

  “I think when you’ve been on a long deployment yo
u get invested. But sooner or later, the deployment is over.” He made his voice harder. “It’s over, Lieutenant. It’s time to go home.”

  Ford sat back in the chair, his eyes evading John’s, his mouth twisting.

  “You’ve got people waiting for you. Your cousin Sheri. Your grandparents. You’ve been MIA for four years.”

  “Grandma. Grandpa.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say to them.”

  Like he’d known them in some other life, John thought. That’s what it was like. “They’ll be so glad to hear you’re alive they won’t care what you say,” John said. “They’ll be thanking God that you’re alive.”

  Ford bent his head. “Yeah. That’s what Grandma would say.” His voice sounded choked.

  John dropped his voice. “Go home, Aiden. Take your wife and your son and go home. It’s time.”

  He saw the moment of decision, the heartbeat where he gave in. Ford took a deep breath. “What happens here? What happens to all these people? The Travelers – I can’t just…”

  “They’re going to have to work it out with the Wraith themselves. We can’t make everybody get along and we can’t solve everybody’s problems for them. We’ve got them to the table. But they’re going to have to make their own deals.”

  “And if they don’t?” Ford challenged.

  “Then people are going to keep right on dying, just like they have for thousands of years.” John put the teacup down. “That’s not up to us. If humans and Wraith are going to share this galaxy, they’re going to have to come to some kind of terms everybody can live with.”

  Ford shook his head. “I’m not on board with sharing this galaxy with the Wraith. And neither are a lot of people. We’d be better off if they were all dead.”

  John shrugged. “That’s not possible.”

  “What?”

  John shrugged again. “I said, that’s not possible. You can’t kill them all. The Ancients couldn’t kill them all. Nobody can. The Wraith exist. Arguing over whether they ought to is stupid. They do. You might as well argue that gravity shouldn’t work. It does. This is the world we live in. And either people are going to keep on killing each other, or they’re going to make peace. This isn’t a winnable war.”

  Ford was looking at him intently, like he was actually seeing him for the first time. “You’re different,” he said. “You’re not the same Major Sheppard who came out here.”

  “That’s right,” John said. “I’m not.” The cup of tea was warm between his hands, just like the first one the Athosians had offered him on the first day. But he was different. He was happy. And that gave him a lot to lose. He’d been a guy with nothing to lose, who could risk everything on the flip of a coin and not care how it landed. And now – now it mattered. Maybe someday Ford would find that place too. “Your deployment’s over,” he said gently. “Today you’re going home.”

  They thrashed out the outline of an agreement while the stars wheeled overhead, and as the sky paled so that only the brightest of the stars could still be seen, it seemed as though they had come to an agreement. It was, Teyla thought, workable. No one had everything they wanted, but no one lost everything, either. Osir and Mirilies would lift shortly, with Durant remaining behind to monitor and make sure that Alabaster’s hive did not pursue. Two hours after they had entered hyperspace, Alabaster’s hive would depart, leaving Guide and the cruiser to make sure the Lanteans kept their part of the bargain. Two hours after the hive left orbit, Durant would lift ship, and that would leave only the question of how they were going to get Ford back to Earth. Perhaps by then Lorne would have solved the problem with the plastic-eating bacteria. Perhaps by then they would have found time to decide what to do about Dis.

  “Teyla!”

  That was Lesko again, and Teyla turned, putting on her best trader’s smile. “Yes?”

  “You have my doctor, remember? We want him back before we leave here.”

  “Yes, of course.” And that was one more problem to be dealt with, though most of that would be up to Dekaas himself. “He is within, still tending to the injured party.”

  “Will you send for him?” Lesko gave her a hard stare. “I want to get all my people together.”

  “I will see if he can leave his patient,” Teyla said, and turned away before he could say anything more.

  “Trouble?” John asked, falling into step beside her, and she gave him a quick smile.

  “I do not think so. Captain Lesko wants his doctor back, that is all.”

  “I bet he does.” John sighed. “I need to talk to Atlantis, see what their status is. But first I need to figure out what we’re going to do with Dis. We can’t just let him go around unascending people.”

  “You do not want to bring him back to Atlantis?” Teyla asked. “Once the bacteria is dealt with, I mean.”

  “I’d rather not. I don’t want him getting too good a look at our technology — I really don’t want him getting a look at what we don’t know about it. But I’m having trouble thinking of anything better to do with him.”

  “We could keep him confined, as we did the Wraith,” Teyla said.

  “I’m not entirely sure we could. I mean, yeah, if everything works right, we can hold him, but if it doesn’t — I really don’t want him loose on Atlantis. And I also don’t want any of his friends showing up to blast him free. You remember how well we held them off the last time.”

  Teyla winced. The Vanir ship had gone right through the city’s shields; the Vanir had stolen the Ancient artifact — another of Janus’s misbegotten creations, the Attero Device — and kidnapped Rodney and Daniel Jackson, all without apparent effort. And all without anyone being able to lift a finger to stop them. It had taken everything Atlantis had, plus Guide’s cooperation, to destroy the device, and they’d nearly lost Daniel in the process. “I had not considered that. Do you think there are more of them left?”

  John shrugged. “I think we have to assume there are. Though I’m hoping maybe there aren’t too many.”

  “One can only hope.” Teyla drew a deep breath. “I will fetch Dekaas. I assume you want to leave Rodney on guard? And Dr. Jackson.” And that was a thing she would not have said five years ago, or even three, but Rodney had proved himself a hundred times over.

  “Yeah. And in the meantime, I’m going to talk to Atlantis.”

  John turned away, heading for the jumper. Telya saw that Elizabeth was deep in conversation with Alabaster, and stared for a moment, still amazed that Elizabeth was in fact alive and so very much herself. It seemed impossible — seemed so much more than impossible that a part of her screamed it must be a trap, some bizarre creation of the Asurans. And yet she trusted Dekaas to have the knowledge to rule that out. The nanites the Asurans had left in Elizabeth’s blood before had been all too obvious; Dekaas’s equipment had been better, more sophisticated, than Sateda’s in its heyday, and that meant it should be reliable. Elizabeth was Elizabeth, unmistakably, the familiar negotiator and leader, the woman who had ascended and then chosen to save Rodney’s life and paid for it by being unascended. And to find Ford as well, alive, and free of the enzyme — it was all almost unimaginably good news, and Teyla hoped she would have time to savor it sometime soon. But there were other things to deal with now. She made her way back into the dark of the installation, closing the doors behind her as she went.

  The other three were waiting in the infirmary, Daniel staring at Dis as though he could read its history on its wrinkled skin, while Dekaas was stolidly finishing an MRE. Rodney was pacing, his hands resting on the butt of his P90, and from the expression on his face, he had been caught in mid-rant when she opened the door.

  “News?” Daniel rose to his feet, his hand on his pistol. He was, Teyla reminded herself, an experienced member of a gate team, no matter how often he ignored orders.

  “We have come to an agreement, thanks to Elizabeth,” she said, and was rewarded by the sudden almost beatific smile on Rodney’s face. She ran through it quickly, gettin
g a thoughtful nod from Daniel and a wider grin from Rodney.

  “I knew it was her,” he said. “I knew she was all right. And if this doesn’t prove it —”

  “You know what the IOA is going to say about that,” Daniel said.

  “I can’t help it if they’re that stupid,” Rodney answered. “Which, of course, I believe they’re more than capable of being, since they haven’t let me back into my old job.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Daniel said.

  Rodney glared. “Though of course it gives me more time to pursue my own research —”

  “Rodney,” Teyla said, and he subsided. She looked at Dekaas. “Captain Lesko has asked if you are ready to return to Durant.”

  “Dis is stable and will, I think, recover completely,” Dekaas answered. “So, I suppose — yes, I am.” He paused. “You said that the hive was Alabaster’s?”

  “Yes.” Teyla watched the emotions flicker across his face: yearning, regret, sorrow, certainly, and perhaps a weary sort of fear. For a moment, she thought he would say something, but he merely nodded, and reached for his jacket again.

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  “Then I will take you to Durant. Colonel Sheppard asks that the rest of you stay here.” Both Rodney and Daniel nodded, but she fixed Rodney with a queen’s stare. *Do not quarrel so much that Dis escapes.*

  Rodney flushed, and shook his head. “No, no. We’ll be fine.”

  “Good,” Teyla said aloud, and let the door close again behind her and Dekaas.

  “I’ve done the best I can for Dis,” Dekaas said, as they made their way through the corridors. “I don’t think the machine produced a complete recovery — I don’t know if that’s because Dis’s injuries were so severe, or if the machine wasn’t working at full capacity, but I don’t much think it matters. Dis will heal in time, but for the moment there’s still a considerable weakness.”

  “That can only work to our advantage,” Teyla said frankly. “The Vanir are more powerful than — well, than we or any other people can handle.”