SGA-17 Legacy 2 - The Lost

by Graham, Jo

  “We are go for open water rescue,” Lorne said on the radio, the jumper once again clear of the tower. “And we have a visual on Colonel Sheppard.”

  Now the city’s remote cameras had a picture as well, a glowing light streaking like a meteor toward them from the southern horizon.

  “Are they on fire?” Robinson asked quietly behind him.

  “It is just reentry,” Radek replied. “It flares off the skin of the ship like that, the interaction of superheated gasses and the ablative material of the ship.” He shook his head. It was awfully bright. He supposed those Ancient ships were made to withstand reentry without energy shielding in the event of damage, but it was not pretty. Not pretty at all.

  But it was slowing. “Airspeed four hundred miles per hour and slowing,” Banks said from her monitor.

  Now it looked less like a meteor and more like an aircraft, though it was still glowing reddish gold in the gray sky, cutting through the last wisps of low hanging cloud.

  “Too fast,” Salawi said under her breath. “Damn.”

  It would be too fast for an airplane, where normal g forces acted upon the occupants, but the inertial dampeners allowed for braking thrusters at speeds that would be lethal otherwise. Too fast for a passenger plane, surely, but only about twice as fast now as a fighter jet would be coming in for a carrier landing, ready to hit the wire.

  Only of course there was no wire. There was only the concrete platform of the pier. And the city.

  Radek found himself tightening his fists. “Come on, Sheppard,” he breathed. He watched for the twitch, for the warship beginning to pull up, an abort to skim the pier and ditch in the water on the other side. At that speed they would sink like a stone, and the water was very deep here. Nevertheless, airtight compartments would hold underwater as well as in space, and Major Lorne could be there with the jumper to mate with the wreck in minutes.

  There was no twitch. Reverse thrusters fired, bright white against the gold, seven or eight g’s absorbed by the inertial dampeners. The warship slowed, her pitted form streaked black from something burning off in atmosphere, belly down at a slight tilt, landing gear deploying, like a goose coming in for a landing on the smooth surface of a pond.

  Reverse thrusters fired again, tilting like a harrier jet to the vertical, and the Ancient warship settled onto Atlantis’ pier gracefully with fifty feet to spare.

  The control room broke into applause, and Salawi grinned as though she were swallowing a lump in her throat.

  “Major Lorne, the rescue will not be needed,” Radek said into his headset.

  “Copy that.”

  Below on the pier the medical team was rushing out, gurney at the ready.

  “Atlantis, we’re down,” Sheppard said. He sounded as relieved as he ought to be.

  “Good to hear that,” Radek said, and hoped the warmth in his voice carried.

  Chapter Twenty-one: Time

  It seemed like the Wraith had been gone all day, but when Ronon glanced at his wristwatch, it had apparently only been a few hours. Assuming it was working properly. He’d looked at some with mechanisms that made sense to him when he was on Earth, but they were a lot more expensive than the plastic ones that ran on tiny computers or however they were supposed to work.

  He’d rather have one with hands that ticked around its dial to show that it was working rather than just glowing numbers. He might be able to trade for one with the Genii; they made good clocks. The question was whether the Genii would still be speaking to them after Sheppard got done being diplomatic with them.

  “What?” Jennifer said.

  “Just wondering how the other team’s doing.”

  “I’m sure they’re doing fine,” Jennifer said. “They’ve dealt with the Genii a bunch of times before now.”

  “The first couple of times didn’t go so well,” Ronon said. “The next couple of times didn’t go so well either.”

  “They can handle it,” Jennifer said. “Right?”

  “Sure,” Ronon said. It couldn’t be easy for her just waiting around not knowing what was happening to Rodney. “We’ll find McKay.”

  She nodded without looking at him, playing unhappily with her unlit flashlight. “It’s my fault,” she said abruptly.

  “You weren’t even there when they took him.”

  “It’s my fault we even came back,” Jennifer said. “We talked about staying. After everything the IOA put us through… well, it just seemed like there were more useful things we could do on Earth without getting jerked around as much. If I hadn’t changed my mind — ”

  “There’s not anything more useful you could be doing on Earth,” Ronon said. “You knew this was going to be dangerous.”

  “I did,” Jennifer said. “Believe me.”

  “So, you have to decide whether it’s worth it.”

  He wouldn’t have thought badly of her if he’d thought she was going to cry, but she was dry-eyed, her face turned up at the shadows around the roof’s tangle of bone. “You think it’s worth losing Rodney like this?”

  “We haven’t lost him yet,” Ronon said. “We’re not going to.”

  “But if we do,” Jennifer said, her voice going flat again. He thought maybe that was her way of not letting it break.

  “Then he’ll have died fighting the Wraith,” Ronon said. “Protecting Torren and Teyla’s people on New Athos. You going to say that’s not worth doing?”

  Jennifer rested her forehead on her fingers. “No,” she said. “I just wish…”

  “I know,” Ronon said when she didn’t finish the sentence.

  She took a shaky breath and let it out. “I know there’s a lot we can do here that makes a difference.”

  “Yeah,” Ronon said. “A lot of places don’t have doctors.”

  “I know humanitarian relief isn’t a priority for the IOA, but you’d think they’d at least be interested in building some good will out here,” Jennifer said. She glanced at him like she wasn’t sure he’d follow that.

  “You mean that if we help people, they’ll like us.”

  “It’s a theory,” Jennifer said. “And there’s always the chance of finding some local pharmaceuticals that can help us back on Earth.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff,” Ronon said.

  Jennifer winced. “That’s really not what I meant.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m getting the feeling I lost some serious credit with you and Teyla there.”

  “Teyla’s over it,” Ronon said. “She thinks you’re just weird like the rest of the people from Earth are weird.”

  “We didn’t get off to a really great start, so I think that’s an improvement,” Jennifer said.

  That was probably true enough. “She wasn’t even mostly upset about you not believing her about the shrine, because she’d never seen it herself. But she thinks you didn’t treat her like family.”

  “Well, she’s… I mean, I hate to say it, but she’s not,” Jennifer said. “Neither is Colonel Sheppard, although from all the time he spends in the infirmary when he’s not the one I’m treating — ”

  “You don’t know the Athosians,” Ronon said. “They’ve been culled every generation lately, sometimes more than once. Most people don’t have the family they’re born with. They have whoever they have, whoever takes care of them.”

  “I’m not asking for anybody’s birth certificate,” Jennifer said. “But I can’t know who people want to be considered family members unless they tell me. I give people forms, and then they don’t fill them out.”

  “I’m telling you,” Ronon said.

  “Have you filled out the forms I sent around?”

  “You sent around forms?”

  Jennifer looked like she wanted to throw her flashlight at him, until he let the hint of a smile show. She returned it tentatively, her face seeming to waver in the dim green glow of the Wraith lantern.

  “It doesn’t seem like the Athosians are so different from you peopl
e,” Ronon said. “A lot of people in Atlantis don’t have any family back home. Or might as well not.”

  “A lot of people in Atlantis don’t have family, period,” Jennifer said. “I’m lucky that my dad’s still around.”

  “That’s not McKay,” Ronon said. “It’s not going to be, even if he didn’t have a sister.”

  “Okay,” Jennifer said. “I get that. That’s a good thing.” Now she kind of did look like she was going to cry. He didn’t think she’d like that, so he hunted for a distraction.

  “So, you and McKay going to get married?”

  “Well, we…” Jennifer said, looking flustered. “We hadn’t really… I think it’s a little too soon to…” She looked up at him. “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged. “No reason. I just — ”

  There was a noise from above them, muffled enough by the soil that Ronon didn’t think Jennifer heard, but he froze, drawing his pistol in one smooth movement and covering the trap door above. He motioned for Jennifer to stay back, and she nodded, and then drew her own pistol, holding it inexpertly but steadily.

  The trap door opened, pouring more dirt down in front of Ronon. He waited as someone crouched by the entrance. It wasn’t one of the Wraith, but one of the locals, a pale-haired woman with a tracery of lines painted across one cheek like the ridges that would have been etched into a Wraith face.

  “You may come out,” the woman said. “The dead god who brought you here wishes to speak with you. He bids you follow me back to the place where he awaits you.”

  Ronon looked at Jennifer. She shrugged. “Why didn’t he come himself?” Ronon called.

  “I did not question him,” she said. “The dead gods do not reward us for idle questions.”

  “No, they reward you for being — ”

  Jennifer made a frantic throat-cutting motion and shook her head. Ronon took a deep breath and let it out. If there was anything to find out here, she was right that they shouldn’t screw that up just for the pleasure of telling these people what was wrong with them.

  “Fine,” Ronon said. “I’m coming up first.” He glanced at Jennifer’s pack. “Can you climb wearing that?”

  Jennifer looked at the rope dubiously. “I don’t know.”

  Ronon nodded and looped the straps of her pack around one arm, pulling himself quickly up the rope. He hoped it wasn’t obvious how grateful he felt when he got his first breath of fresh air. He heaved himself up over the side of the opening and rolled up to a crouch, holding his hand down for Jennifer. “Come on,” he said.

  Jennifer was struggling with the rope, but she managed, reaching up gratefully for his hand. He supported her until she could scramble to her feet. As he stood up, he felt something hard press between his shoulder blades.

  “Don’t move, or I will shoot,” the woman said.

  Ronon’s hand was already reaching for his pistol. He made himself hold still, his eyes on Jennifer’s. Her eyes had gone very wide, but she was watching closely, as if taking in every detail. “What’s she got?”

  “I don’t know,” Jennifer said. “It doesn’t look like a stunner.”

  “You don’t want to do this,” Ronon said.

  “Greatest of all the gods is Death,” the woman said. “Her enemies will be destroyed, and those who serve her will taste eternal life.” The weapon dug in harder at his back. If it was some kind of stunner, he could slap it out of her hand as she shot him, and give Jennifer a clear shot when he went down. If it fired bullets, he’d probably end up dead.

  Jennifer’s eyes were steady on his. Trust me, they said. He spread his hands the tiniest bit. If you have an idea, go for it.

  He hoped she did.

  “You can’t cover both of us with that thing,” Jennifer said.

  The woman looked at her around Ronon’s shoulder. She slid her hand around to spread it flat on Ronon’s chest. Jennifer could see him flinch, even though he knew this was a human holding him. “If you try to run, I will kill him.”

  “Then the dead gods will restore him,” Jennifer said. “Won’t they?”

  “You wear the uniform of Atlantis,” the woman said. “The people of Atlantis do not trust in the mercy of the gods.”

  “Not all of us,” Jennifer said. She didn’t dare come any closer, didn’t dare go for her pistol. She wasn’t sure what she’d do with it anyway; she’d done a fair amount of damage to some paper targets, but she didn’t think she could shoot the woman without risking hitting Ronon. “We serve the one we call Todd.” Ronon’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

  “That is not his name.”

  “He hasn’t yet honored us with his true name,” Jennifer said. She tried to channel every henchman ever in all the bad horror movies she’d seen. “When Atlantis falls to the Wraith, he has promised us that we will be rewarded.”

  “I cannot wait so long,” the woman said. Jennifer looked her over with a physician’s eye. Her color was bad, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She moved like she was in pain.

  “I’m a doctor,” she couldn’t help trying. “I might be able to help you.”

  The woman stiffened, and jammed the pistol hard enough against Ronon’s back to make him wince. “Death will reward me when I deliver you to her,” the woman said.

  “I think she’d like you to deliver us both in one piece,” Jennifer said. “It would save her the trouble of having to bring us back to life. And you know we might not…” Jennifer reconsidered. It was entirely possible that these people believed the Wraith could restore any dead body to life, if it had taken them a while to give up on someone they’d already buried. “She is more likely to give you the gift of life if she hasn’t already had to revive us.”

  “You serve a god who keeps secrets from her,” the woman said. “I can’t trust you to come with me quietly. We have little time before her servants depart through the Stargate.” She sounded more rattled, the formal cadence of her speech slipping a little.

  “You could tie us up,” Jennifer said. “There’s a rope tied to the door there.”

  “Get it,” the woman said. Jennifer knelt and struggled to unfasten it, her hands shaking. That probably wasn’t a bad thing. It didn’t make it look like she had a plan, here.

  “I can’t get it untied,” she said. “There’s more in my pack.”

  “Throw your weapon down first,” the woman said. Jennifer drew her pistol carefully, knowing Ronon would probably manage to shoot the woman in the same movement. She tossed it away.

  “I’m getting the rope now,” she said in the same voice that she used to explain what she was doing to terrified patients. “See?” She drew it out, turning over her right hand to show it empty except for the rope. It took her too long to find what she was looking for by touch and jam it up her left sleeve, but she hoped she covered it by fumbling with the rope.

  “All right,” she said, holding out the rope. Ronon would have noticed the way her sleeve hung wrong now, and the awkward way she was keeping her hands high, but she didn’t think this woman was really a fighter. “Tie us up.”

  The woman shook her head. “You tie him,” she said.

  She’d bet on that. There wasn’t any way the woman could tie either of them up and still cover Ronon. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to tie his hands.”

  She came up in front of Ronon, looping the rope around Ronon’s wrists, praying that she remembered the knots Teyla had showed her. If she was doing it right, it ought to look sound, and still slip free at a single tug. She saw Ronon’s eyes flicker to the knot, and thought he saw that it wouldn’t hold.

  Jennifer edged closer, wrapping the rope around his waist. It was tempting to go for his pistol, but she was afraid she wouldn’t even get it clear of the holster before the woman fired. Instead she tied one last ineffective knot and slid the weight from her left sleeve into her right hand. She hoped Ronon could see what she was doing and that the woman couldn’t, but she didn’t dare look up to be sure. “All right,” she said.
“You’re going to have to tie mine.”

  “No tricks,” the woman said, stepping around to cover her, and it was the hardest thing Jennifer could remember doing to wait until she saw the muzzle of the pistol clear of Ronon’s side before she pulled the pin on the flash grenade. She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped it, knowing it was too close to both of them, but afraid to try to toss it further away.

  The world went red, the crash of the grenade stabbing through her ears. She flung herself to the ground and clung to it as the world reeled. That was the noise, the effect on her inner ears. She made herself open her eyes, and was pleased that despite black spots swimming in front of her, she could actually see.

  When she managed to sit up, she saw Ronon down on one knee next to the woman, who was sprawled unmoving on the ground. The rope was still looped loosely around one of his wrists, but he’d clearly made short work of the knots.

  “Good thing you saw the grenade,” Jennifer said.

  “I didn’t,” Ronon said. His voice seemed to be coming from a long distance away. “Can’t see anything.”

  “Your vision should improve pretty fast,” Jennifer said, moving to his side as fast as she could without falling over.

  “It had better,” he said, but he didn’t actually sound angry.

  “Is she dead?” She ought to be able to answer that question, being the doctor, but she was feeling a little slow at the moment. She was going to have one serious headache.

  “Not sure,” Ronon said, spreading his hand on the woman’s back as if trying to feel her breathing. “I think her pistol went off, but it was hard to hear anything.”

  Jennifer leaned over the woman, feeling for a pulse, but when she rolled the woman over, it was clear there wasn’t much she could do. Her stomach roiled, which she tried to tell herself was because her balance was still off. “She’s dead,” she said. “I’m afraid we just attracted some attention.”

  “Depends on how close people were,” Ronon said. He sat back on his heels, closing his eyes. If he was as disoriented as she was, he was trying hard not to show it. “Tell me if you see anyone coming.”