by Graham, Jo
“That is true,” Teyla agreed. “But if we do not arrive with the warship in good time, Ladon Radim will take it as a breach of your bargain.”
“We’ll give him the Avenger. But we’ve got to make Atlantis first. Dahlia will see that.”
“I hope so,” Teyla said. She leaned back against the bulkhead again, and he sat beside her, stretching his legs out tiredly. For a long moment they sat there in companionable silence.
He apologized for not listening to her, not for bringing her here in the first place. He was not sorry she was here. It was her place. This was who she was, Teyla Who Walks Through Gates, Teyla Who Would Never Return to New Athos, who could never again be satisfied with a smaller world. Not when two galaxies in their courses stretched before her, filled with people moved by familiar motivations. How could she be satisfied trading furs for silks when there were trades to be made that dwarfed anything she could once have imagined? There were trades that changed the lives of millions, saved them or squandered them. Elizabeth had called it diplomacy and Woolsey called it The Great Game. Ladon Radim called it politics, the world as it is. The art of the possible. How could she go home and raise tava beans, and hope that the deluge would not come?
“Kanaan has asked me to release him,” she said.
John looked at her sideways. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“No?” His expression was somewhere between sheepish and startled. He took a deep breath, as though hunting carefully for the right words. “I mean, I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to. It’s rough, getting divorced.”
Teyla smiled ruefully, leaning her head back against the wall. He would think what he would think. “We never made those promises to one another.”
“But you…” He sounded confused, but she would not look to see. “You planned to have a child together.”
“We planned no such thing. Torren was…an unexpected blessing.” She would not look at him. She did not want to see a change in his face, the loss of respect in his eyes.
John’s voice was low. “You could have told me that to start with.”
“And was it any of your business?”
“No.” That had come out harsher than she intended. He sounded hurt.
Teyla shook her head. “I knew what you would say. What your people would say. Do you think I do not hear the things that people say, the jokes they make? About breeders and people who are wasting their lives with children? About women who might have amounted to something? Do you think I did not hear what Rodney said about Jeannie? Do you think I do not know the words ho and baby-mama?” She looked at him and he was wincing, but this anger had been building in her a long time, and it would not be stopped now. “Do you think I wish to be a figure of fun? Do you think I do not know that everything I do reflects upon my people? That is a responsibility I accept. I will be their representative. I will be their ambassador. But I know what that means.”
John looked down at his lap, at his big hands resting on his thigh. “Teyla, you’ve got to understand that these people aren’t typical. The original expedition — they’re all a little crazy. People with any kind of functional relationship don’t sign up for a one-way trip. The people who came were the people who were too screwed up to have anybody to leave.” He looked at her, frowning. “Maybe kids like Ford weren’t. They were real young and thought it would be an adventure. But all the scientists, everybody older… Most people on Earth aren’t like that. Most people on Earth aren’t basically dysfunctional to start with. Most people would have somebody who would miss them.”
John shrugged. “The new people aren’t like that. All these Air Force guys O’Neill pulled in — it’s another deployment for them. They’ve got girlfriends, husbands and kids at home, parents, friends. But the original ones who took a one way ticket like me and Rodney and Radek and Carson — that was kind of different.” He looked up at the ceiling. “It’s like Rodney, you know? He goes on about Jeannie and how she could be doing something else, but he’s the guy in a hurry to get married, the one wondering if he missed the boat.”
She knew what was unspoken in those lines of tension in his face, all the worry for Rodney he would not voice, the fears he would not give shape to, lest naming them make them real. “We will find him,” she said, and squeezed his hand.
“Yeah.” He nodded, his eyes on their hands. “Yeah.”
“And you?”
“I sunk that boat.” John swallowed. He did not look up. “But I want you to know that I don’t think anything bad about you. There’s nothing you said that would make me lose respect for you or something.”
His hand in hers, her fingers against his wristband. “Truly?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “You know. Stuff happens. Life happens.”
She could not help but smile back, finding his words. “I think it is possible…that I am kind of dysfunctional too.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“We are ready to go.” Dahlia Radim stood in the doorway, her jumpsuit streaked with oil. “Or at least as ready as I can make us.” She looked from one to the other of them, and to Carson, rolled insensible in a mound of blankets. “Is Dr. Beckett all right?”
“He took another pain pill and he is sleeping,” Teyla said, releasing John’s hand as though it were nothing. “But I will have to wake him up to get him in a vacuum suit.”
“A vacuum suit?” Dahlia looked at John.
“There are some in the forward locker that check out,” John said. “And I think we’d better all get into them. I’m not confident about how much pressure the Avenger can take.”
Dahlia nodded. “That’s prudent. Though we should not seal them unless a failure seems imminent. It is much too far.”
John got to his feet. “Not to Atlantis,” he said.
Dahlia went pale. “What?”
“Not to Atlantis,” John said. “It’s seventeen hours in hyperspace to your homeworld and just under six to Atlantis. We’re going to Atlantis.”
Dahlia took a step back. “You planned this all along. This is a double cross. You want the warship. All of this talk of your missing man was nothing but a ruse.” Her eyes snapped with anger. “You knew we had an Ancient warship and you made this up so that you could take it!”
“No,” John said. “It’s not…”
“The warship is yours,” Teyla broke in smoothly. “Colonel Sheppard will take you and the Avenger both to your homeworld. But you can see very plainly that Dr. Beckett needs medical attention as soon as possible, and you know that the Avenger is barely spaceworthy. We will go to Atlantis, and there you may call your brother and speak with him. Then you and our engineers will make certain that the Avenger is spaceworthy, and Colonel Sheppard will take you home.”
“And you will copy the specs of the Avenger while you are at it,” Dahlia snapped.
“We already have the plans for an Ancient warship,” Teyla said. “We have had one in our possession before, as you know. But we are no more capable of building one complete than you are.”
“You’ve got to trust us,” John said.
“As you trusted me?” Dahlia demanded. “If I body search you, will I find your intentions?”
“You will have to see from what we do,” Teyla said. “It is dangerous enough to take this ship into space at all. To take it three times further than we must is folly. I give you my word that when we are in Atlantis you may use the Stargate to contact your brother and tell him where you are and all that has transpired.”
“So that you may show him I am your hostage,” Dahlia said.
“I give you my word that you are not,” Teyla said gravely.
Dahlia’s eyes met Teyla’s firmly. “And should I take your word for it, Bloodtainted as you are? What is your word worth?”
It was as happens when sparring, when there is an unexpectedly solid hit that takes your breath away, leaving you gasping for the next thing. Teyla drew in a breath sharply.
“We have heard a great deal of Atlantis, and of you, Teyla Emmagan. We have heard how you set upon a soldier called Bates who feared you Bloodtainted, and how you nearly beat him to death.” Her eyes flicked to John. “And how it was covered up by your lover.”
“She had nothing to do with Bates.” John looked as though he were scurrying to keep up. “That was a Wraith commando loose in the city.”
“That is not what the soldiers said who gossiped in front of Sora Tyrus. In the three months she was in your charge she learned many things. Not the least of which is that you bear a Bloodtaint that should have been stamped out many years ago, madness and cruelty that the galaxy is better off without.” Her eyes slid to John, and there was no anger there, only wonder. “Do you not know what perversions it leads one to? The last Bloodtainted among the Genii killed seventeen women over a period of three years. The one before that killed his mother and his father, and then two officers of the peace who came when people heard the screams. They are criminals, Colonel Sheppard! They are mad criminals who love to cause pain, and who do it for their pleasure, or because they hear voices that urge them to kill. There is no rehabilitation that can be accomplished with the Bloodtainted. They are not safe. If you take such a one to you, one day you will wake with a knife in your chest while she drinks your blood.”
John gulped, and she thought she saw uncertainty in his eyes, though his voice was level. “I know Teyla.”
Though cold ran down her back, she must focus on the matter at hand. “It does not matter at this moment what you think of me. We must do what will best accomplish our mission without anyone dying. And that is to take this crippled ship into Atlantis, where there can be more extensive repairs and Dr. Beckett can get medical attention. Then Colonel Sheppard will take you home and deliver the warship to Chief Radim, as we promised. You may choose not to believe us, but that is what will happen.” Her eyes met John’s for a moment. “When the colonel says he is ready, we will go.”
“And if I do not consent, you will kill me?” Dahlia asked, her chin high.
“I’ll have to lock you in one of the empty crew quarters until we get there,” John said. “You can’t override the locks, not if I tell the ship not to let you. I’d rather not do that. But I will if I need to.”
“Then we will make ready to go,” Dahlia said sharply. “And you may know that Chief Radim will have a great deal to say.” She turned on her heel and headed for the bridge.
John started to say something, but she forestalled him.
“John…”
He turned and looked at her.
“There is no need,” she said quietly. “The things she said are true. That is why those with the Gift were so often hunted. So Charin told me, and so I believe.” She raised her eyes to his, braced for the reaction there. “I am part Wraith. You know this.”
“It wasn’t a problem five years ago, and it’s not a problem now.” His mouth quirked. “If you start turning into some kind of crazy serial killer, I’ll be the first to know.”
“Do you not think that is what I fear?” she asked, and to her horror her voice shook. This was not the time and place for this conversation. Not with Dahlia Radim, not with everyone so exhausted and strung up.
“I know you, Teyla.” He rested his hand a moment on her shoulder. “It’s ok.” He squeezed it once, then let go. “I’ll show you where the suits are. You should probably get Carson into his suit before takeoff. The first problem moment is going to be when we leave the atmosphere. That’s when anything that’s not going to stand up to vacuum will go.”
“Very well,” Teyla said. “Let us do this and go home.”
Chapter Fifteen: The Houses of the Dead
“We are honored by your presence,” the Wraith worshipper said, and then went to his knees in front of Todd. Jennifer could feel Ronon move beside her, and she put out a hand to arrest whatever move he was about to make.
“We have come to negotiate,” Todd said, as if he found the idea a little amusing. “Do not expect to be rewarded for nothing.”
“Of course not,” the man said, but Jennifer thought she could see his jaw twitch. She didn’t dare look at Ronon.
“I’m Dr. Jennifer Keller,” she said. “This is Ronon Dex. Do you have a name?”
The man got to his feet before he looked at her. “I am called Carlin,” he said. “You have come to the Houses of the Dead.”
Jennifer couldn’t help feeling that sounded less than good. “We’re here to talk,” she said.
The man nodded. “Many come to talk. Here in the land of the dead, there is no war among the gods.”
“Or among humans,” Jennifer said. “I hope.”
“The living do not walk among us,” Carlin said.
“Unless your gods wish it,” Todd said.
Carlin nodded, although he looked a little skeptical. “As you say.”
Todd smiled. It wasn’t a friendly expression. “Will you not make us welcome?”
“You are welcome,” Carlin said. “Come with me.” He led them down the easy slope toward the water.
Jennifer followed, trying not to look as thrown as she felt. So, Todd had lied to them. Well, that wasn’t exactly a big surprise. Or maybe not actually lied — he’d promised neutral ground, and it sounded like this was some kind of traditional neutral ground for warring factions of Wraith. That didn’t make their position any better if they were surrounded by Wraith worshippers, though. She was pretty sure they’d take Todd’s side if it came down to a fight. So it had better not come down to a fight.
What had looked like rolling hillside proved to be a small cluster of dugout buildings, their tops grown over with grass, or maybe they’d been hollowed out of the hillside without disturbing the sod. Jennifer saw a few people moving from house to house, all with the same long hair and somber clothes Carlin wore. More than one of them moved haltingly, as if even crossing the short distance from house to house was painful.
“We can offer medical assistance if that’s something your people need,” Jennifer couldn’t help saying.
“These are the Houses of the Dead,” Carlin said. “They await rebirth. The dead do not seek healing from the living.”
“Well, okay,” Jennifer said. She still didn’t see any smoke, but there were animal tracks in the soft ground that ran down to the river, and enough footprints that she thought there must be plenty of living people around.
“What kind of rebirth?” Ronon said from behind her. Jennifer had already pretty much decided that it was best not to ask that question. It figured that Ronon couldn’t let it alone.
“The gift of the dead gods,” Carlin said.
“Okay,” Jennifer said quickly. The Wraith could heal as well as kill, feeding humans the same energy they drained when they fed on them. She knew Ronon had experienced that firsthand, over and over as torture until he finally broke under it and then had to painfully withdraw from his body’s addiction to the process, craving it like a drug. She knew he had every reason to hate the Wraith, but they were here for a reason, and she wished he’d act like he remembered it. “We’d like to hear more about your people another time, right, Ronon?”
“Sure,” he said. He sounded angry. She hoped it was at the Wraith and not at her.
“It’s just that we’re a little busy right now,” she went on firmly.
“Carlin’s people have served us at this meeting place for many generations,” Todd said. “It is useful to us to have a place to meet where misunderstandings are less likely to take place.”
“You mean where you’re less likely to stab each other in the back,” Ronon said.
“I believe that is what I said.” Todd stopped in front of what looked like a small hill until Jennifer saw the weathered wooden door set into the curve of the hillside. “This will serve our needs.”
Carlin hurried to open the door for them. Jennifer stepped back, letting Ronon check it out first. He didn’t look like he particularly wanted to step across
the threshold, but after a moment he did, looking around with his pistol drawn.
Todd and the other Wraith hung back, making no move to go in until she and Ronon had assured themselves that it was safe. She wished she were more sure whether that was courtesy or just a hunter waiting for the mouse to walk into the trap.
“It’s clear,” Ronon said finally.
“After you,” Jennifer said.
Todd’s lips twitched in an unreadable expression. “As you wish,” he said. He glanced at the other Wraith, who preceded him in, and then ducked inside himself. Jennifer followed, trying not to think about mousetraps springing shut.
Inside there was a trestle table laid with a pitcher and stacked cups. The floor was swept earth, and the ceiling was high and arched, supported by what she hoped were interlaced tree branches. It was possible that on closer inspection they would prove to be bones, but she wasn’t planning on inspecting that closely. The room was dim, lit only by the light filtering in from a pair of small skylights covered in what might have been glass or plastic.
In one corner, there was a teardrop-shaped device with coils winding across its face that looked suspiciously like a battery-powered heater of some kind. It suggested that the reason there weren’t any fires lit was probably that the locals had better ways of cooking their breakfast. She wasn’t an expert, but she would have bet on its being Wraith technology.
Todd seated himself at one end of the table, his hands on his knees. She waited for Ronon to sit, but he leaned against the wall, his pistol out to cover the table. The other Wraith took up a position behind Todd, his hands spread as if ready to reach for a weapon himself.
Apparently it was going to be that kind of negotiation. Jennifer sat down at the other end of the table, hoping that would look like she was insisting on equal status rather just that she preferred having the length of the table between them. It was a relief to shrug off her heavy pack. She rested it against her knee where she could reach it in a hurry.
“Now talk,” Ronon said.
