“By all means,” Saul answered, sweeping one hand in the general direction of the door. “It will take awhile to clean up the mess and ready the next combatant. I assume the two of you will want to see how it turns out…”
Sheppard risked a glance at Saul, noted the self-satisfied grin and the hungry gleam in his eye. More than anything in the world, he wanted to kill the man where he stood. He thought briefly of taking a shot — seeing if he could slam Saul’s body through the glass and send it crashing to the arena below. Maybe he could work the weapons.
Instead, he grabbed Mara’s arm roughly and pulled her toward the door. “Come on…before I do something Saul might regret.”
Saul laughed at this, and Sheppard hurried his steps, trying not to see the huge body of the Woard toppling onto Teyla’s prone form. Trying not to think about the fact he’d lost a team member, and a friend, in this crazy pit of lunatics. Trying not to snap when the rest of the team needed him most.
Mara stumbled after him, trying to keep up. As the door slid shut on Saul, they heard him chuckle.
“Slow down, please,” Mara begged, still struggling to keep up. “Where are we going?”
“I need to have a look at your computer system.”
“You can’t. Saul will know if we log on — it isn’t allowed.”
He turned on her, stopping her with a twist of her arm. She cried out.
“Look,” he said, thinking on his feet, “if I have any hope of stopping this insanity and keeping my friends alive, I have to know the weapons. I have to know what they are, how they can be used, and exactly what their powers are. To do that, I have to study them. Now, take me to a computer console. If Saul finds out, he finds out. We’re flying into a sun — what difference could it possibly make? We don’t have much time.”
Mara stood motionless, breathing heavily and mulling over his request. “You’re right. It’s the least I can do. There isn’t anything else you could access that would matter…”
Sheppard shook his head and sighed. “Rodney’s the computer jockey, not me. I’m not familiar with your system and I wouldn’t have any idea how to access anything else.”
“There are consoles in the medical clinic that are unmonitored. I can sign in and you’ll find what you need there.” She pulled her arm free and rubbed the reddened spot where Sheppard had been gripping it. “This way.”
They wound through hallway after hallway, taking a lift at one point to access the lower levels. Apparently a number of extra labs had been converted to medical facilities. Considering their chief form of entertainment, and the genetic research necessary to create the adversaries, it was no real surprise. Sheppard briefly wondered how many people were hauled off to be cremated, or buried, or whatever they did with the fallen, and how many actually survived to fight again.
They finally reached a set of double doors on one of the lower levels. The lights in the hallway were dim and, for the moment at least, they appeared to be alone. Mara stopped in front of the doors and turned to face him.
“I’m sorry about this but I really have no other choice.”
“What are you…?”
Without warning she punched him hard in the face, landing a solid blow to his jaw. She had wrapped her fist in her metal belt and it left an imprint on her knuckles when she hit him. Sheppard’s lip was cut and bleeding, and his jaw was already swollen.
“What did you do that for?” He winced from the pain and touched one thumb to his lower lip. It came back bloody.
“I need an excuse to take you in there. I’m not exactly a regular visitor in the medical wards. I can’t just go in there, sit you down in front of a console, and log in. But if you need medical attention…”
“I guess not,” Sheppard said. He spit into his hand, wiped it on his pants leg, and frowned. “That hurt! Maybe you should have been in the entertainment instead of those gladiators.”
Mara smiled, shook her head, and pulled open the doors to the medical ward. She stepped inside, holding onto Sheppard’s arm as she went. She leaned in close and whispered to him. “You should, as you say, sell it.”
Sheppard moaned and reeled a bit, closing one eye for effect.
A young man of about thirty stepped into the room to greet them. His face fell immediately and he shook his head. “Woard?”
“Heavens no!” Mara laughed. “A Woard would have just killed him. This was done by a Valhund.”
“Take him into one of the exam rooms. I’m finishing up a cast, but I can see him in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Mara turned quickly and dragged Sheppard down the hall to one of the examining rooms. She shut the door behind them and turned the lock, then moved quickly to the computer monitor.
“We won’t have much time, but I can hold him off for awhile.” She said. “He probably wishes he was up with the rest, watching the Entertainment. I’m frankly surprised to see anyone down here at all.”
A few keystrokes and she was logged in.
“Won’t Saul know it’s you?”
“I didn’t log in as myself,” she explained. “I’ve spent time with my share of others here over the years. I’m very observant, and I’m not without secrets of my own. Here. You will find what you need in this file. I’ll listen for the doctor.”
Sheppard sat down and began reading through the file as quickly as possible. It contained diagrams, graphic images, and even demonstration videos for each of the Ancient weapons. The information was fascinating, and any other time he’d have loved to spend some time studying it, but time was something he was just about out of.
He checked to make sure that Mara was still distracted at the door, and then he quickly scanned the system files for the shield controls. Rodney might be the computer jock, but Sheppard was no slouch — he just didn’t advertise it so loudly. As it turned out, the code Mara had provided gave him high level access. Higher, perhaps, than she knew — there were advantages, he guessed, in sleeping with the enemy. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
As he worked, he glanced at Mara now and then and smiled. She wouldn’t be happy if she knew what he was really doing and she might be inclined to stop him. He wasn’t sure how far to trust her, and decided this wasn’t the time to test his limits. Luckily, she was distracted by the various sounds emanating from the hallway.
She kept her ear pressed to the door. “Are you finding what you need?”
“Yes. Almost done.”
The shield controls weren’t encrypted, and he supposed there’d be no reason for that kind of security — who would want to covertly take them down from inside a city that had spent millennia hiding from the galaxy? However, he did notice a set of alarm protocols set to alert Saul when the shield had been deactivated — in case, he supposed, he was having too much fun to notice. It only took a couple of keystrokes to toggle the alarms off and silently drop the shield. It was a risk, but calculated and minimal. With the surface temperature rising and the Entertainment in full swing, he doubted anyone was topside to notice the shield drop. Or, frankly, to care.
Satisfied, he logged out of the shield controls and returned to the weapons page. He went over them once more, so he’d know enough to make it seem as if he’d studied them, and then logged off the terminal. He rose and crossed to the door. The shield was down, the message had been sent to Atlantis; all he had to do now was bust his team out of jail and get the hell out of Dodge before the moon’s surface started to cook. Piece of cake.
“I have everything I need,” he whispered, tapping Mara on the shoulder.
She started a bit, and then smiled. “Good. Let’s get out of here before the doctor comes back.” She turned the lock on the door and nearly pulled it open before thinking better of it. “Wait!”
She hurried to a nearby cabinet and flung the door open, studying the contents for good measure. On the top shelf was a small box and she grabbed it, pulling from it a rather large bandage. She peeled the backing from it and slapped it onto She
ppard’s jaw with a smile.
“Ow! Hey!” He recoiled from the blow. “What’d you do that for?”
“Effect. Come on! Let’s get out of here.” She pulled open the door and stood aside.
“I think you just like hurting me.” He stepped through the door and turned toward the hallway.
They were nearly to the outer door of the medical facility when the doctor stepped into the room. “I thought your friend needed medical attention.”
“Oh, he did,” Mara chirped. “I took care of it.” She spun Sheppard around and pointed to the bandage. “See? Good as new.”
The doctor frowned and nodded. “I see,” he said. Then he glanced around the room almost dejectedly. “I supposed, at this point, it really doesn’t matter.”
“You should go to the arena and watch,” Mara said. “The First Woard was killed. This is no place to meet the grand finale, and really, who is going to come here for medical aid this night? Or ever?”
“You’re right,” the man said. He dropped the clipboard he was carrying and turned to the door, hurrying away.
Sheppard smiled weakly and shrugged, then stepped into the hall after him.
“Good thinking,” he said.
“I meant what I said,” Mara shrugged. “No one should reach the end of their life alone, and there’s no reason for him to be here. Let’s get moving.”
They hurried back up toward the main levels, taking a series of side passages on the off chance that Saul was paying attention to them and planned to stop them. They encountered no one. With the exception of the arena, Admah was silent.
Chapter Twenty-six
Zelenka sat hunched over his console, his fingers operating the controls delicately. On the monitor, the signal he’d discovered danced in and out of a larger sine wave pattern. Meticulously, he removed one frequency at a time, checking it against the earlier signals that had not contained the static. He needed to use the original as a filter, remove everything that was not the static and leave behind only the new, odd signal.
As time passed, he intensified his concentration. He didn’t know how he knew but somehow he did — Rodney was behind this. That stray bit of frequency shift held some sort of message, or a clue how to help, and Zelenka was determined to figure out what it was. He wouldn’t have admitted it if challenged, but half the reason he was so determined was that he didn’t want anyone saying Rodney had sent him a message he wasn’t capable of deciphering.
He turned a final knob very slowly. The signal wavered, and then the background carrier disappeared.
“Yes!” he said.
He pulled back quickly, saved the signal, and transferred it to another screen. His fingers trembled as he started to play the signal through. The screen immediately filled with a short burst of text, followed by numbers. Zelenka read, memorized, and then transferred the message to Woolsey’s terminal. Before the transfer was complete, he’d turned away and was on the move.
* * *
Woolsey looked up as Zelenka burst through his door, hair wilder than normal and eyes wide.
“Did you see?”
“See what? You could have — ”
“We don’t have time,” Zelenka interrupted.
Woolsey sat back, confused. “We don’t have time for what?”
“On your terminal. I’ve sent you a file,” Zelenka said. “Rodney found a way to get through. He sent us a message and coordinates. We have to start.”
Frowning, Woolsey turned to his terminal. He found the message Zelenka had sent, opened it, and read quickly. He didn’t pause to memorize.
“Mobilize the backup team. Get extra security up to join them. We don’t know what might be waiting on the other side of that gate.”
“Yes sir,” Zelenka turned and disappeared.
Woolsey sat a moment, watching the empty doorway, and then turned to his console. He keyed communications system and waited a moment.
“Yes sir?” a voice reported immediately.
“Have you had any luck reaching the Daedelus?”
“Yes sir. They have received your message and they have altered course. They have informed us that it is unlikely they will be able to reach Admah before it is destroyed, but they are making all possible speed for the attempt.”
“Thank you.” Woolsey said, disconnecting the communicator and rising slowly.
Straightening the papers on his desk, he stepped out of his office and into the passageway beyond. He picked up speed as he made his way toward the control room, and by the time he reached the elevator and the final hatch his expression was resolute. There would be very little time for consultation or discussion. He was going to have to direct the coming operation, and whatever the outcome he was going to have to take responsibility. He knew the regulations, and he knew the laws and codes behind them. When he’d first come to Atlantis, he’d believed this to be more than adequate — the perfect qualification for command.
At that moment, however, stepping into the control room and finding himself the focus of all those on the backup team, those at the control consoles, and those who had gathered to lend their support, he understood what Colonel Sheppard must feel every time he led his team through the Stargate. The responsibility was total.
Woolsey moved quickly and with as much confidence as he could muster to the DHD, where Zelenka and a couple of lab assistants were gathered. “Do you have the coordinates?”
“Yes,” Zelenka said. “We don’t have much information on the world on the far side. Rodney’s message said he can’t be certain it will support life, but it must have supported some type of life at one point, or there wouldn’t be a gate. He gave no more detail and there’s no time to send a MALP…”
Woolsey cut him off. “Is the team ready?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then let’s get this operation underway.” Woolsey turned to where the team waited, their equipment packed and ready and their eyes bright.
“Normally, I would be the last person to send you blind into a new world,” he said. “But today we have no choice. Major Lorne?”
Lorne stepped forward with a crisp salute. “Sir.”
“Take up a secure position around the gate and wait,” Woolsey said. “You’ll be on your own until Colonel Sheppard dials in from Admah.”
“Understood, sir.” Lorne replied. “We’ll bring them back.”
Woolsey nodded. “I know you will, Major. Good luck.” He turned to Zelenka. “Ready?”
“Ready sir.”
Zelenka began to dial. The symbols lit and came to life, one character at a time, and after a moment the space in the circle grew brighter, and the gate surged open. The event horizon shivered, and then settled.
The team stood for just a moment, watching it, and then they moved forward, one after the other, plunging into the wormhole and disappearing from sight. When the last of them had passed through and the gate had closed, Zelenka turned to Woolsey. The two men held one another’s gaze for a long moment, then turned in opposite directions and walked away.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Ronon sat in one corner of the holding cell, his legs propped up and eyes closed, pretending to sleep. The steady click of computer keys lulled him, but he heard something beneath that; something farther away and growing louder. His muscles tensed and his eyes slid open just as the doors did.
Three of Saul’s guards stood in the opening, brandishing their weapons. “You! Come with us!”
The guard pointed directly at Rodney. Rodney looked behind him, to each side, then back to the guard. “Me?”
“You are the one that Saul wants. It’s your time. Let’s go.”
The guard took one slow step forward and Rodney was on his feet. He managed to keep the laptop concealed behind him, and Cumby, who’d been sitting beside him, moved as if to grab Rodney and stop him. When the guards were momentarily distracted, he slid the laptop behind his back.
“You don’t want me,” Rodney said. “I’m no fighter. I could
n’t fight my way out of a paper bag. Ask any of them.”
Ronon stood up and crossed the room in three quick steps. He stood toe to toe with the guard, staring daggers at him. Another half a step, and their chests would have bumped. The guard brought his weapon up and trained it directly on Ronon’s face.
“He’s right,” Ronon said. “You want entertainment, and that means you want me. This one won’t last five minutes. He’ll be dead before the doors even close on him. I can take anything you throw at me.”
The guard said nothing in response, only glared into Ronon’s steely eyes.
“Take me instead.” Cumby stepped forward and inserted himself into the tiny space between Ronon and the guard, pressing them apart. “What you really want, what your entertainment needs, is me. What better entertainment than someone who can use brains instead of brawn? Colonel Sheppard lied before — I have the gene, and I can use your weapons. I’m smaller than he is,” he nodded at Ronon, “but I can fight.”
The guard let his gaze trickle over Cumby; he smirked, but said nothing.
“You won’t be disappointed, I assure you.”
“Forget them. He fights like a girl,” Ronon said. He turned toward Rodney, “And he’ll faint like a girl.”
“Hey!” Rodney said. Then, as if thinking about what he was doing, he added, “He’s right, of course. I’d probably just pass out. He’s the warrior. He’s the one you want.”
“Come on,” Ronon laughed. “Wouldn’t you rather see me take on that beast? I know I would.”
“Enough!” The guard pushed Ronon aside and stepped around to where Rodney stood, seizing him by the arm. His partner flanked him and they held Rodney between them. “What I want doesn’t matter. I have orders to bring this one to the arena. Now, step aside before we put you out of your misery.”
“Hey! Wait!” Rodney’s heels scuffed along the floor as the guards dragged him toward the doors. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”
Ronon moved to follow, but Cumby grabbed his arm. He couldn’t have restrained the bigger man, but the last guard had his weapon trained on Ronon and he didn’t look like he would hesitate to use it. Ronon shook free, but not before Rodney had been dragged into the outer room.
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