“That was skillfully done, Major,” Teyla said.
Until then, Aiden hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath. He had every confidence in the Major’s ability to pilot the jumper, and in any case a lot of it was automatic. But the ‘gate-in-space thing still kind of freaked him out. Getting stuck in one hadn’t been a whole lot of fun, and he really didn’t want a replay.
Sheppard gave a noncommittal shrug. “I just hope I didn’t dent the fender.”
“On this thing?” McKay said dismissively. “The jumpers have been demonstrated to be more or less indestructible. Not that I want to give them a stress test.”
“I meant the MALP. If it landed hard on the ‘gate room floor, you know that’ll be coming out of my paycheck.” Sheppard stretched his arms up over his head and cracked his knuckles. “You’re up, Rodney. Do your thing.”
McKay set his hands on the console to manipulate the craft’s sensors. “The troposphere extends about twenty-four kilometers above the surface. Let’s start at eighteen kilometers up.”
“Eleven miles it is,” the Major replied amiably. The conversion earned a huff of annoyance from McKay, which Aiden suspected was what Sheppard had intended. “What kind of scanning range have you got?”
“Plenty. We shouldn’t have to do too many orbits to cover the majority of the planet. Your role at present is simply to set us on a stable course. Of course, I suppose there’s no reason why I can’t do that myself—” McKay reached out to touch the panel, only to have his hand knocked aside by a glaring Sheppard.
“Okay,” said the Major, with exaggerated patience. “You’ve tried this once with the training wheels on, so good for you, but you’re not getting your mitts on a jumper in space until you’ve had a proper lesson.”
“And what wisdom do you have to impart that I haven’t already heard and mastered?” McKay wanted to know. “Straight and level—wasn’t that pretty much all there was to it?”
“As we just talked about, Rodney, things work a little differently in space.”
“I suppose you were an astronaut before coming to Atlantis?”
“No, but I do know enough about flying to perform a positive exchange of controls.” Sheppard fixed him with a stern look that suggested this lesson was non-negotiable. “It goes like this: the pilot in command says ‘You have the controls,’ and the other pilot repeats ‘I have the controls.’ Then, and only then, does he touch something. End of lesson.”
The scientist’s eyes narrowed. “This is yet another way of attempting to make me subservient to your authority, right? Real pilots don’t actually go through that rigmarole.”
“We sure as hell do—otherwise you can get conflicting control inputs, and that’s how bad days get started.”
“Fine, fine.” McKay retracted his hand. With a quiet grumble that might or might not have included the word ‘tyrant,’ he turned his full attention to the readouts in front of him. “The ‘gate appears to be in a geostationary orbit. I’d imagine that any civilization is located not far beneath us. That is, of course, if you’re willing to accept the term ‘beneath’, given that it’s space and all. Not much in the way of higher life forms yet…Hold that thought.”
“Have you found a native populace?” Teyla asked.
“Possibly. There’s a concentrated group of life signs down that way.” McKay pointed to the edge of a large land mass. “Assuming the planet rotates in the same direction as Earth, then it’s just after dawn. It’s the only reading I’m getting, so I suggest heading in that direction.”
“You’re the boss.”
The jumper’s flight path arced toward the indicated heading. McKay hunched over his readouts, his eyes crinkling in concentration. “I’d definitely call that a civilization. Thousands of distinct life signs, organized mostly among a set of structures perched on a basalt outcrop near the coast. In fact—” He fell silent while his fingers skipped over the console to call up a graphic on the head-up display. The screen showed groups of the white dots they’d come to recognize as human life signs hovering in and around a city-sized cluster of buildings. Though mostly contained within a massive encircling wall, other life signs were scattered in groups along the coastline and the countryside.
The sensors’ magnification capabilities were impressive, and McKay made good use of them. Except for one leafy area about the size of a football stadium, it looked to Aiden like the city had been carved out of the surrounding black rock. The buttressed walls of buildings were interconnected, with powerful, massive turrets melding it all into an imposing structure.
“Check it out.” Sheppard pointed to the monumental stonework and wide, sturdy walls. “This place was designed to take a pounding.”
McKay shook his head in undisguised awe. “If whatever society exists here is as archaic as some of that architecture looks, the sheer magnitude of all this is incredible.”
“Sorta like a cross between a monastery and a gigantic castle, surrounded by the Great Wall of China,” Aiden observed. For once, no one ridiculed his description.
“Complete with outer ramparts and—You gotta be kidding. Is that a moat?” The Major pointed to the display.
“It appears that a river has been diverted to flow around both sides of the hill,” McKay replied. “That was a startlingly bright move. Fresh water would be available at all times, even under a prolonged siege.”
“There’s more here than just the city.” Aiden leaned forward in his seat to examine the countryside and coastline now coming into view through the window. The land was dotted with farms and, where life signs were concentrated, villages. He couldn’t be certain from this height, but the objects in the harbor looked like they might have been boats. “Think they have much left over from when the Ancients were here?”
“Doesn’t look like the kind of thing the Ancients would go for.” Sheppard indicated the heavily fortified hill structure. “You’d only build something like this if you’re expecting a ground assault on a huge scale. Thing is, if this is the only civilization around, which sure looks likely going by the life signs, who’d be doing the attacking?”
“Everyone battles the Wraith,” Teyla said.
“Not like this. So far in our experience, the Wraith don’t come knocking on your front door. They strike from the air.”
“Maybe there were other civilizations,” Aiden ventured. “You know, in the past—”
“Hang on.” McKay interrupted, squinting at the screen. “Now that’s interesting.”
Aiden wondered if this was the kind of ‘interesting’ that involved some cool new tech or the kind that involved pissed-off natives taking target practice at them.
McKay, fortunately, wasn’t one to leave anything unsaid for long. “I’m getting some strong electromagnetic readings from the city. They just popped up, and they’re very patchy. Don’t descend any further,” he snapped.
“Why not?” Aiden asked.
“Because if we cross paths with one of those EM spikes, it’s another M7G-677.”
That reference was met with a blank stare from the Major.
“Really, how taxing is it to remember a simple six-digit identifier? The place with the marginally more civilized version of Lord of the Flies.”
Aiden was none the wiser. “I don’t get it.”
McKay shot him an exasperated look. “Children? Bows and arrows? The jumper doing its best impression of a glider? Would you like me to find a nice crayon and draw you a picture, Lieutenant?”
“Okay, kiddies, don’t make me turn this car around,” Sheppard warned, leveling off at about ten thousand feet. “Where’s the EM field originating?”
“There’s no central point of origin. They’re separate fields. The layout is mostly random, although largely concentrated over the western and southern sides of the city and immediate countryside.” McKay looked even more skeptical than usual. “If this is meant to be a protective shield, it’s a lousy design.”
“Offending your obsessive
-compulsive tendencies?”
Poised to retort, McKay didn’t see Teyla stiffen, but Aiden did. “Major, Doctor,” he broke in, glancing over at his teammate.
Sheppard turned in his seat and frowned. “Teyla, what’s up?”
Sitting straight-backed, the Athosian lifted a hand toward the screen. “There is something else.”
The sensors showed a separate inorganic item just a few miles from the fortified southern wall. Composed of a different material than the structures, it sat perched in a field not far from one of the larger coastal villages. Its shape struck a familiar discordant note in Aiden’s memory. He smothered a curse. “That’s a Wraith Dart.”
A look of profound sadness crossed Teyla’s face. Aiden shot her a questioning glance.
“Each time I travel through the Stargate to a place that I have not yet visited,” she explained, “I hold within me a seed of hope that we will find a world, just one, which the Wraith have not touched.”
Well, that was a shiny, happy thought to start the mission.
“Is it a complete set, or is the Wraith sold separately?” The Major directed the question not to McKay, but to Teyla.
She shook her head. “I sense no life, but then, we are some distance away.”
“It’s dead,” McKay confirmed. “Not even a blip of energy coming off that thing. It must have met up with one of the EM fields.”
“It wasn’t the only one. Take a look.” Aiden tipped his head toward the windscreen. Scattered around the plowed fields were fully a dozen Darts. Each looked to have been the victim of a crash landing.
“I have never seen such a display,” Teyla said in surprise. “Is it possible that these people have found a way to defend themselves against a Wraith attack?”
Sheppard surveyed the wreckage and gave a low whistle. “All right, color me impressed. For a lousy design, they’re doing all right for themselves.”
McKay seemed to be working on convincing the sensor to record the data it was rapidly generating. “This Picasso-inspired checkerboard strategy wouldn’t stop everything. The law of averages dictates that a number of the Darts would find the unshielded areas, either through skill or blind luck.”
“But it did knock a bunch of them down.” The Major’s expression conveyed a kind of appreciation. “Once on the ground, the Wraith’s advantage would be seriously cut down. Would their stunners even work within the shield?”
“No, of course not, and the shields would repel any blasts fired into it from the outside. As I said, it’s like M7G-677.”
“And that’s where the fortifications come in. I’ve gotta say, as tactics go, this isn’t half bad.” Sheppard brought the image of a ruined Dart up on the screen. “I want to get a look inside one of those things. Anything we can learn about their style of offense will help us play better defense.”
Judging by the lack of griping about sports metaphors, McKay must not have heard the Major’s last comment. “No thanks to those oh-so-adorable little demon children, I discovered that the EM field on M7G-677 harnesses that planet’s unique magnetic field. Assuming these considerably smaller shields operate on a similar principle—” He tapped his finger at the patchy network visible on the display. “I can use the differences between the planets’ respective magnetic fields to recalibrate a smaller shield to suit any planet. If it could then be scaled up to cover an area the size of, say, Atlantis—”
“It’d take a lot more power than we’ve got,” Aiden finished.
“Yes, obviously. But these people seem to have the power available, so that’s all the more reason to find out where they’re getting it.”
Teyla looked uncomfortable. “We should introduce ourselves before intruding on these people’s land. We may mistakenly violate their customs if we act without making our intentions known.”
The scientist shifted his gaze to her, as though he hadn’t considered the possibility. She explained, “We have more to gain from being open with them at the outset. There is much farm-land here and their boats are no doubt employed for fishing. In addition to technology, we may also have the opportunity to trade for food.”
“Makes sense to me.” The Major called up a topographical map on the display. “All right, McKay, how about finding us an area not protected by the EM fields that’s relatively close to both a Dart and one of the villages?”
“As always, your wildly improbable wish is my command.” After only a few moments, though, McKay stabbed a finger at a coastal village. “Try there.”
“You’ll warn me if I’m getting too close to the shield this time, right?”
“Have you always been such a nervous driver?”
“It’s just gonna be a little hard going back for a repair kit with the Stargate in orbit.” He headed west toward the nearby mountains, cloaking the jumper as they went.
“You’re going the wrong way.” McKay looked confused.
“Just taking a quick look around. I like to eyeball the landscape on my way in.”
It was a subtle euphemism for reconnaissance, and that idea suited Aiden fine. Until last week, he had pegged Major Sheppard to be a decent superior officer with a typical flyboy attitude. No one would mistake him for a Marine, to be sure, and Aiden had heard enough scuttlebutt about his record to understand why Colonel Sumner hadn’t been too thrilled about having him on the expedition. But after the damage that Sheppard had inflicted on the Genii, there wasn’t a Marine on Atlantis who hadn’t gotten the picture and fast. More than anyone, Aiden now understood that the Major’s glib remarks camouflaged the mindset of an experienced tactician.
Capped with snow, the mountain range glinted in the early morning sun. “Air’s clean,” McKay observed, his nose still buried in the sensors. “Pre-industrialized society, at best, although there is a lingering trace of air pollutants. It’s likely that they went through a more developed phase between Wraith cullings, which would explain the construction of the city.”
The jumper’ s inertial dampeners took some of the fun out of it, but it was still a rush, zipping between the peaks low and fast. They abruptly exited into a wide valley, and the Major took them down to about five hundred feet. Spread out before them were patchy woodlands. Here and there, narrow roads bisected meadows of wildflowers and fields cultivated with what looked like orchard trees and newly planted crops.
“There’s a house.” Aiden pointed to a thatched stone bungalow. In a nearby field grazed some animals. He couldn’t make out the details, but they looked like large sheep, or maybe goats. “Place sure seems nice.”
“Hmm?” McKay finally looked up from the sensors. Eying another of the farms with suspicion, he added, “Very quaint. If we get dragged into a harvest celebration, so help me, I refuse to be held responsible for whatever reaction I might exhibit.”
“I think it’s a little early for that. There are still patches of snow in some of the ravines.”
“Whoa. That’s…imposing,” said Sheppard.
They had turned out of the valley onto a long, rolling plain dotted with more farms and woodlands that extended to the nearby coast. But that wasn’t what had drawn the Major’s attention. When he realized what had, Aiden almost gaped.
If it had been impressive from fifty thousand feet, from this angle the hill fortress, city, or whatever, looked awesome. Spread across an area slightly smaller than Manhattan, the hill jutted at least five hundred feet above the surrounding plain. A lot of the buildings had definitely been carved from the rock, with piecemeal additions constructed later from the same material. It was a Frankenstein kind of architecture, but damn if it didn’t look sturdy. “Sure wouldn’t want to have to lead a ground assault on the place. It’d take some serious ordnance just to make a dent in it.”
“Don’t go any further than that clump of trees.” McKay warned, pointing to an area about a mile away from the wreckage of a Dart.
They got their first view of the natives while on approach to land. “There are many people hurrying along the paths,”
Teyla said. “They appear to be traveling from several directions.”
“Life sign detector is telling me the same thing,” McKay verified. “Hundreds of them, all rushing toward a handful of villages.”
Aiden pulled his eyes from the Darts and looked around. “Maybe they’re late for church?” the Major remarked, slowing the jumper to a halt. “I’m going to park in this gully. Less chance of someone tripping over us.”
The moment the jumper settled, Aiden was out of his seat and pulling on his pack. He grabbed his P-90, flicked off the safety and, exchanging a quick look with Sheppard, stood just inside the rear hatch as it opened.
No sign of life, except for a couple of the sheep-type things on the grassy slope of the gully. The animals lifted their heads and stared at him a moment, then went back to grazing.
Once outside, Aiden heard a deep, low noise that rose in pitch, then tapered off. “Wonder what that is?” The same sound echoed in the distance.
“Its sound is similar to the horns that my people use to signal one another when hunting,” Teyla said, joining him. She pulled her jacket close against the icy chill carried by the wind. “Perhaps it would explain why the inhabitants are making for the villages.”
“Yeah, but what’s the hurry?” Aiden wondered.
“Okay,” said Sheppard, powering down the jumper and checking its cloaking device. “We head for the village and find out.”
Aiden watched with some amusement as McKay struggled with his overloaded pack. “You did say that our powered equipment isn’t going to work under the shields, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but we won’t always be under the EM fields, will we?” snapped the scientist. “Be prepared, isn’t that the Marine motto?”
“That’s the Boy Scouts.”
“Ah. Close enough.”
Before Aiden could fire off a stinging reply, the Major shot him a warning look. Rank sure had its privileges. McKay’s self-importance was generally more entertaining than annoying, but taking a man’s hard-won, real chocolate brownie was no laughing matter. Neither was disparaging the Corps.
Although the sun was up, they were still in the shadow of the fortress, and the air had that fresh, dewy smell to it—with a tang of salt that Aiden recognized from his time on Atlantis. Crickets or their native equivalent chirped, while a few birds chattered in the branches. In the near distance, he could hear the sound of surf. Everything seemed peaceful enough, except for the periodic, insistent sound of horns. “I think the loudest call is coming from the village,” Aiden said.
Stargate Atlantis: The Chosen (Stargate Atlantis) Page 3
