Suddenly, there was the sound of grinding rock above them. Teyla stopped walking, her senses alert. “What’s that?” she hissed. “Banshees?”
The sound got louder, a terrible renting and grinding. “There are no Banshees activated,” said Miruva, looking at the rock roof with alarm. “Must be a tremor. Run!”
She broke into a jog. Behind her, the hunters staggered forward; it was all they could do to stay on their feet. Lines of rock-dust began to stream down from the ceiling. The sound of breaking rock grew until the entire corridor echoed with it.
“Keep going!” yelled Teyla, pushing the fatigued hunters onwards, letting herself slip to the rear of the group. “The tunnel is collapsing!”
The noise reached a painful crescendo. The very stone was being tortured, and now rocks the size of fists were falling from the roof. Teyla pushed the last of the hunters in front of her and the man stumbled into a staggering run. From further down the tunnel, the thump of falling earth echoed. It was as if the world was being reshaped around her.
Teyla sprung forward, seeing the light of the Banshee control room entrance tantalizingly close. Her shoulders were showered with debris, and the sound of scraping, breaking rock hammered in her ears.
She was just a few dozen feet away when the stone hit her. She crumpled to the ground. Her hand shakily touched her forehead, and hot blood ran over her fingers. She looked up, seeing the ceiling above her crack and splinter.
“Must keep going…” she murmured, but knew she was losing consciousness.
The world lurched. It felt as if she was spinning into the void. Teyla pulled herself up to her elbows with difficulty, but then the rocks began falling in earnest. A shard shattered across her neck, and she fell back down to earth. The corridor tilted on its axis. The flashlight beam guttered and went out. Somewhere, dimly, she heard someone calling her name. But a glut of nausea was rising in her throat, her vision closing in, and then she knew no more.
Chapter Sixteen
With a final shiver of defeat, the rock floor caved in. A huge plume of dust and debris flew up into the cramped workings, and Sheppard had to turn his face away.
After it subsided, the miners began to drop into the gap. Their torches unveiled a deep well carved into the stone. On either side of the well, there were two gaping holes, only partly choked by the rubble. They’d broken into some kind of tunnel. Even in the flickering light Sheppard could see that it was man-made.
Relief flooded over him. They’d made it.
He took out the proximity meter. It was going crazy. There were signals all around him, and not just those of Helmar and his men.
“C’mon!” he cried. “They’ll be down here somewhere.”
He started to clamber down into the gap. As he went, the torches threw long, snaking shadows across the cracked rock. The floor of the tunnel was becoming visible. There was more light, bleeding up from somewhere deeper down, and he began to make sense of the chaos around him.
Sheppard froze. He felt his heart beating powerfully in his chest. Beneath him, where the newly opened tunnel snaked downwards, there was a body lying in the rubble on the floor. It looked horribly familiar.
“Helmar!” he cried, hurrying towards it. “I’m gonna need some help here.”
Within seconds, other miners bearing torches had scrambled over to his position. They were still calling to one another with triumph as they came. All Sheppard could feel was the sick sensation in his stomach. As the miners caught sight of the body, they fell quiet.
Teyla lay slumped across a collapsed section of stone. She was out cold, and there was an ugly cut on her forehead.
He crouched down, feeling for a pulse. It was there, thank God. Not strong, but she was alive. Helmar dropped down beside him.
“Will she be well?” he asked, his voice full of concern. Sheppard wished he had Dr Beckett around to answer that. Teyla looked like she’d taken a battering when the miners had broken through. “You got any healers with you?”
“We’ll do what we can.”
“Quickly!”
Helmar disappeared. Working carefully, the other miners began to clear the stone from around her. They took care not to move her. Sheppard stayed crouched by her side.
He felt impotent, and angry. All of a sudden he regretted his desire for a speedy resolution to the mission. The gathering storm on the surface had unsettled him. McKay clearly thought his plan was crazy. The fact that the miners had managed to break through the layers of rock to the hidden tunnels beneath should have been Sheppard’s vindication. As it was, looking down at Teyla lying prone on the rock floor, he wondered if the price for his daring had been far too high.
A surge of warmth moved through McKay’s body, bathing him in pleasure. Of course, he wasn’t actually warm. He hadn’t been anything other than freezing ever since they’d landed on Khost. The heat was metaphorical: the glow of success, the sustaining balm of genius. He had done it.
At last, the Jumper was good to go. It almost looked normal, though a genuine pilot would have balked at the bolted-together equipment lining the walls of the rear bay. Zelenka’s gadget had finally been constructed, more or less as intended. There were a few modifications, of course. Some were due to there not being enough parts in the Jumper; some were enhancements supplied by McKay’s own ingenuity. Rodney found himself looking forward to explaining the weaknesses in the Zelenka’s schematics in person. Now that the Jumper could fly again, the chances of him being able to do that had significantly increased.
The Stargate had been something else. Working in the cold, on his own, in the failing light and without access to any routine diagnostic instruments had nearly killed him. There had been moments out on the ice with the wind biting hard and his fingers frozen to the bone when he’d almost given up. No matter what he tried, there was no way of coaxing enough power to kick it into life. All he needed was enough to hold open the gate for a centisecond or two, but even that was far beyond him. Once within the wormhole, Zelenka’s machine would kick in and the experimental Ancient tech would do the rest. The waiting was too frustrating for words.
Of course, even if the power could be found, getting home relied on an entirely unproven hypotheses about wormhole physics — and a good degree of faith that his makeshift power array would stand up to the strain. Not to mention an absolute conviction that Sheppard would be able to pilot the vessel at the optimum speed, at the correct angle, and would switch to the Zelenka-inspired grid at just the right moment.
But that was all fine. Hardly a day went by on Atlantis without some kind of impossible odds to conquer, and at least they were back in the game now. The important thing was that he believed it was going to work. Though the source eluded him for the moment, he was sure something could be done about the power shortfall. When it came to technology, that was really all that was important. He never got it wrong.
Or at least, he seldom did. Which was almost as good. But now it was well into the night, and there was nothing more he could do. With a shudder, he looked over at the rear bay doors. It would be a cold walk back to the settlement.
The tunnel was gradually cleared of rubble and the breach in the roof secured. As they had done throughout, the miners worked tirelessly and skillfully. More torches were brought down and placed against the walls of the corridor.
Sheppard hardly took any of it in. He’d remained by Teyla’s side. He barely noticed Helmar return.
“We’ve sent some men down into the complex beyond,” the hunter said. “It’s just as you thought. There’s room there for everyone. There are others further down. I’ve sent for a healer.”
Sheppard looked up, hearing what the man said but barely taking it in.
“Who’s down there?” he asked
“Miruva, and she’s explained what’s going on,” he said. “There’s power, and light, and air. All those taken by the Banshees are here. Orand is too. And your friend, the big man.”
As Helmar finished speaking, R
onon emerged from behind him. The huge Satedan looked haggard and unsteady on his feet.
“You made it then, Sheppard,” the Runner said, gruffly. He was staring at Teyla. “How bad?”
Sheppard shook his head. “Dammit, I need a doctor!”
His voice broke at that point, despite all his hours on active duty. They had all been pushed to the limit by Khost’s hostile environment. This was a step too far.
“Do not worry, Colonel Sheppard,” came Teyla’s voice, weakly from her bruised lips. “It would take more than a few stones to finish me off.”
Her eyes flickered open. She smiled a grim smile, then winced immediately from the pain.
“Teyla!” cried Sheppard, resisting the urge to grab her by the shoulders with joy. “How bad are you hurt? Can you feel your legs?”
Teyla nodded gingerly. She seemed to be coming round more fully and the grogginess left her eyes.
“I can feel them,” she said. “And I can see you quite plainly. Give me a moment, and I will be back on my feet.”
“The hell you won’t,” said Sheppard, firmly. “You’re staying right where you are.”
Teyla let her eyes close. Ronon sank down on his haunches next to her.
“Quite an entrance,” he said to Sheppard. “How d’you know we were down here?”
“Proximity meter,” Sheppard replied. “These guys did most of the work — they know what they’re doing. This place’s riddled with tunnels.”
“You’re telling me,” said Ronon, with feeling. “So, what’s the plan now?”
“You want a plan? Sheesh.” Sheppard took a deep breath. “Well, we’ve got an entrance to this ‘Sanctuary’ sorted. So long as the weather holds, all of the Forgotten will be able to get down here. As for how we get out, that’s in Rodney’s hands. He’s working on feeding power from the Jumper to the Stargate. Though I’ve gotta say, he didn’t look real confident about it.”
“Rodney not confident?” said Ronon. “Don’t like that.” Dr McKay was generally confident about anything involving his technological prowess. When he looked worried, everyone else did too.
“Yeah, I hear you,” said Sheppard. “Want more great news? We’ve got a storm coming. I told you about the one that nearly sunk the city back on Atlantis, right? Imagine that, but worse. And forever.”
Ronon gave a low whistle. “That’s bad. But not much we can do about it.”
“Sure we can,” said Sheppard. “We gotta persuade Aralen to get his people down here double quick. He misses this chance, he won’t get another.”
Ronon paused, taking in the implications of that.
“You know we should just get the hell outta here, right?” he said.
Sheppard nodded. “Yeah, I know. And you know that ain’t gonna happen; we can’t just leave these people in the deep freeze, not when there’s a chance to save them.”
“So I guess you’re going back to talk to Aralen?”
“Guess I am.” He stood up gingerly, feeling his battered body protest. “Anyway, how the hell are you down here too? I’m beginning to get my head round this Banshee thing, but I thought you were out hunting cows.”
Ronon gave him a sour look. “We took a wrong turn. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Can’t wait.”
“You’d better go. Don’t worry about Teyla — I’ve got her back. And we’ll get the breach secure while you’re gone.”
“Right,” said Sheppard. “Don’t let her get up too soon. And where’s Miruva? I hear she’s in charge around here.”
“I am here, Colonel Sheppard,” came a voice from further down the tunnel. Miruva came forward hesitantly, loathe to look at Teyla’s prone body.
“Will she…?” she started, and then looked at Sheppard directly.
“Oh, she’s made of strong stuff,” he said, with more conviction than he felt. “Just like you guys. But you know, if you don’t all get down here — ”
“I’ve seen the future of this planet too, Colonel Sheppard,” said Miruva. “I’ll come with you. The ice is treacherous at night, and you’ll never convince my father by yourself — he’s too stubborn and set in his ways.”
Sheppard looked doubtful. “You sure about that? It’s blowing pretty hard up there.”
“You would do no less for your father,” she said. “Nor your people. I will come with you, and that is an end to it. We can go now.”
Sheppard made to leave, then paused. A thought had just occurred. “Hey, you’ve been in the Ancestor control rooms?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll take a little detour down there first,” said Sheppard. “We can’t leave without presents, and I’m guessing there’ll be something down there that’ll make Rodney’s day.”
Chapter Seventeen
McKay had woken up with a sore head. He always woke up with a sore head, but this morning it was particularly bad. He’d slept badly, plagued by the sound of tremors under the settlement and troubled by dreams of Ancient crystal circuitry. After a whole, long day working on the Jumper schematics, he hadn’t been able to switch off. With a weary sigh, he realized he’d got a whole lot more work ahead of him. There wasn’t even anyone to yell at. For a minute, he found himself missing Zelenka.
He shook his head. What was getting into him? He dressed hurriedly, tried to make himself look not entirely uncivilized, and headed straight for one of the refectories. There was no one about outside his chamber. It was no different as he neared the eating areas. The settlement was entirely empty and silent.
McKay frowned. An absence of food right now, after all the work he’d done, was a bitter blow. It wasn’t that he actually looked forward to another bowl of gently congealed buffalo fat, but it was food of a kind, and his stomach was growling with all the bad-tempered expectation of a feral grizzly.
He headed back into the main network of corridors. Had the Banshees come back and stripped the whole place of life? That would really limit the culinary possibilities. Picking up his pace, he headed for the assembly rooms. Reassuringly, as he neared them, the low buzz of voices drifted up the corridor. Many voices. It sounded like the entire population had gathered there. Either they’d got there early, or he’d overslept. Badly.
The central hall was full of people. McKay shuffled over to a quiet spot near the back of the hall and made himself as comfortable as possible against the uneven rock wall. A debate was going on, and it sounded pretty impassioned.
The reason for the disturbance quickly became apparent. Sheppard was back. He was standing before Aralen and the council as he had done before. The old man looked torn between annoyance and profound relief. The reason for the latter was obvious; his daughter stood next to Sheppard, relaxed and unharmed.
McKay shook his head. He had to hand it to John, when there was a pretty girl to be rescued he had a Kirk-like knack for pulling it off. No Teyla or Ronon, though. McKay almost blurted out a demand to know where they were, but managed to keep a lid on his burning curiosity. Sheppard looked like he’d come back to deliver a sitrep, and the crowd were rapt with attention. Perhaps now they’d start getting some answers to all their questions.
Aralen stood up, face clearly marked by his conflicting emotions.
“Colonel Sheppard,” he said, voice shaking, “no one could be more grateful than I. You’ve brought my daughter back from the clutches of the Banshees. My reason for living has been restored to me.” He looked at Miruva and there was real fear in his eyes. “But it is for this very reason that I don’t understand why you’re advocating this plan. Now that we know how to retrieve our people from the clutches of these monsters, why would we willingly go back to their imprisonment?”
Sheppard sighed. “Look, I dunno what more I can tell you,” he said. “Believe me, I’ve seen prisons, and this ain’t it. It’s a paradise, Aralen.”
Aralen shook his head. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “All our records tell us that our place is here. The Ancestors will provide — they have promised.”
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“The Ancestors have provided!” cried Sheppard, his frustration getting the better of him. “What are you gonna do? This place is dying. You know it’s happening, and you know you’re almost outta time.”
Aralen glared at Sheppard. A lifetime of faith in the ways of the Ancestors was being shaken. It was painful to watch.
“Colonel Sheppard speaks the truth, Father,” said Miruva. “I’ve seen this place. We could want for nothing there. Those who have been taken by the Banshees live in peace. There is food, water, and warmth. In time, we will come to understand the Ancestors’ plan. We won’t be there forever. Once we have mastered their powerful machines, we can break free and become like them ourselves.”
Aralen’s face sharpened into anger. “That is heresy!” he hissed. “We could never become like the Ancestors. They guide, and we follow. Who knows what plans of theirs we have ruined by blundering into their secret realm? And you haven’t explained one thing; if the Ancestors truly intended us to make our way to this Sanctuary, why did they hide it so well? And why do their servants, the Banshees, attack us? They are creatures of terror!”
Sheppard looked a little uncomfortable. “Hey, we don’t know everything,” he said. “There’s been a problem somewhere, that’s for sure. But you gotta trust me on this. I’ve been there.”
Aralen shook his head. “If the Ancestors had created this Sanctuary for us,” he said, “it would be perfect. If it was their creation, it would not be inhabited by Banshees. It would not lack power or—”
“Of course!” cried McKay, standing up.
All eyes turned to him, and he realized he’d spoken when he had meant to think. He coughed awkwardly and looked apologetically at Sheppard. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. “But what you’re saying makes a lot of sense. The Ancients wouldn’t have left an experiment of theirs without making some provision for the future. They were clever like that. And the Banshees — they must be some kind of projected avatar of their creators. If there was something wrong with the holographic projection system — and it’s very hard to keep all the bugs out over 10,000 years — they would appear like ghosts.”
STARGATE ATLANTIS: Dead End Page 21
