Stargate Atlantis #24

by Melissa Scott

  “At my request, scout and explorer units have been dispatched to those planets lying along the Pride’s course that have Stargates,” Dahlia said. “Our first hypothesis was that there had been some sort of malfunction on board. If so, the Pride’s logical option would be to set down on one of those worlds. Unfortunately, those teams have uncovered no signs of the Pride.”

  “Our explorers aren’t equipped to spot a ship in orbit,” Karsci said. “Nor are they able to search very far from the Stargate.”

  “We were able to equip the search parties with devices that should let them detect an orbiting mass the size of a starship,” Dahlia said. “But no, we have no efficient way of searching an entire planet.”

  Ladon lifted his hand. This was the tricky part, the thing that everyone was going to hate. And yet there had been no other choice. “That’s why I have asked the Lanteans to help in the search.”

  There was a moment of silence, just long enough for a man to draw breath, and then everyone spoke at once. Karsci’s voice soared, battle-trained, above the rest. “Are you out of your mind? You’ve just admitted to them that we can’t control the Ancient technology. You might as well just hand them our government.”

  “They’re just looking for an excuse to make more deals with Sateda,” Balas said. “Hell, you’ve given them all the excuse they need to try to lure away our client worlds.”

  “And none of them are all that solid as allies,” Karsci said.

  “Which might suggest we try some different tactics,” Dolos said. “If we gave them more autonomy —“

  “If we gave them more autonomy, they’d just run to the Lanteans,” Balas said. “Especially now.”

  “The fact remains that no one else has the technology to find the Pride.” Ladon pitched his voice to cut through the argument, and was relieved when the others fell silent. “Our choice was unfortunate, but it’s our only one. We can’t search wide areas of space, and neither can our client worlds. The Lanteans can. We can ask for their help, and stand an excellent chance of finding our missing people, or we can wait and see if the Pride contacts us, or if it lands on one of the worlds where we have units stationed. And may I remind you that if it does land on one of those worlds, the rumors that spread will be very much to our detriment.”

  “The Lanteans’ helping us can be framed as them working with their closest ally,” Dolos said. “That’s not necessarily bad.”

  “All right,” Balas said. “Maybe that would work.”

  “But they haven’t found anything,” Karsci said.

  “They’ve barely begun their search,” Dahlia said. “We can’t expect results for at least a full day, and probably longer.”

  “Do you know how they’re planning to search?” Tivador asked.

  “My understanding is that they will begin by tracing the Pride’s intended course. If she’s not found along that line — and the Lanteans have sensors that can cover quite a broad area on all sides of the projected course — they’ll consult with us about next moves.” Dahlia’s voice was as calm as ever, and Ladon wanted to applaud.

  “You should have consulted the council,” Balas said. “Making a deal with the Lanteans — that’s outside your authority, Ladon.”

  Ladon narrowed his eyes. “I’m Chief of the Genii. That gives me authority to act in an emergency, and I believe this is an emergency.” He waited, but no one made another protest. “I believe that we should continue to work with the Lanteans to find our missing people. I expect you all to support me in this.”

  Dolos nodded. “Of course, Chief.”

  “You have my support, of course,” Dahlia said, and Moric of Agriculture nodded.

  “And mine.”

  The civilians usually hung together; they carried less weight than the military members, but very few things could be done without them. Ladon looked at Vendel, who met his gaze squarely.

  “My son’s on that ship, Chief, as I expect you knew. Thank you for going after them.”

  “We take care of our people,” Ladon said. “We’ve strayed from that in our recent past, but we won’t thrive without it as a basic principle.”

  “I’m with you,” Karsci said.

  Tivador dipped his head. “And I.”

  Balas paused. “I don’t like it. And I don’t have to like it. But I agree that it’s the best way to find the ship.”

  “Then we’re all in agreement,” Ladon said, and let a hint of steel touch his voice. “Let’s get on with the rest of the day’s business.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE JUMPER LOWERED itself slowly into the gate room, holding its position as they waited for clearance. Radek Zelenka shifted unhappily in his seat behind Lorne. There were other things he should be doing, experiments and protocols that needed his attention, not to mention some hours of neglected administrative duties, but he also knew that if the Pride was in serious trouble, he was one of the people they would most need on the scene. And while he had no real fondness for the Genii, he couldn’t bring himself to argue for abandoning them.

  “So what is our plan?” he asked, and Sergeant Kaminsky looked back at him from the co-pilot’s seat.

  “We gate through to Teos, and see if there was anything weird about the Pride’s stopover, right, Major? And then trace their course from there.”

  “Unless you’ve got a better idea, Doc?” Lorne asked.

  “I wish I did.” Radek shrugged. “I would prefer to spend as little time as possible on Teos. The Genii were clear that the Pride landed and left without incident, and from what they have said, I don’t believe that the Teosians have the technology to do her any significant damage. But I see that we cannot just fly through their Stargate and away without some explanation.”

  “Yeah.” Lorne glanced at his screens, then over his shoulder. “But I agree, the sooner we can get out of there and onto the Pride’s trail, the better.”

  “Jumper Three, we’re dialing the gate.” Airman Salawi’s familiar voice sounded in Radek’s ear, and he settled more securely into his seat as the chevrons began to light.

  The unstable wormhole exploded into the gate room, then settled to the familiar rippling pool. “Jumper Three departing for Teos,” Lorne said, and the jumper slid smoothly into the light.

  They emerged into a sheet of rain sweeping across a grassy field. The wind caught the jumper, and Lorne corrected it, swearing under his breath. “All right. Any idea where we go from here?”

  There were buildings on the horizon, tall enough for their tops to be hidden in mist, but there was another building at the edge of the field, and people emerging from it at a run. “There,” Radek said, pointing, and in the same moment, Kaminsky said, “Looks like over there, sir.”

  Lorne tilted the jumper toward them, set it down a good hundred yards from the nearest man, and walked to the door. “Stay on the controls, Kaminsky, just in case. The rest of you, wait here.”

  Radek grabbed his jacket and P90 and moved into the back of the jumper with the young Marine, Peebles. She was one of the few people on Atlantis who was shorter than he, but he was also well aware that she was considerably stronger. She gave him a companionable grin, and settled herself at the top of the ramp, mostly out of sight of the approaching Teosians, but able to provide covering fire in an instant.

  Radek put himself in what he hoped was a suitably supportive position, and heard Lorne call out in greeting.

  “Hey! We’re from Atlantis —“

  “And very welcome,” a Teosian answered. “We weren’t expecting you, I’m afraid, but won’t you come back to the Gate House? It’s terrible weather out here.”

  “Major, it looks like there’s a car coming,” Kaminsky said.

  “I thought nobody had cars here,” Peebles said, and Radek edged down the ramp to see for himself, wiping the mist off his glasses. It did look like an automobile of some kind — probably derived from an animal-drawn carriage, with a half-enclosed driver’s compartment and a separate passenger compartment
. There was what looked like a boiler in front of the driver’s compartment, and a plume of smoke trailed from it: steam-powered, not internal combustion, Radek thought. Even in the rain, he could catch the reek of kerosene.

  “It seems people are making progress when they don’t have to fear the Wraith.” Radek wiped his glasses again. It probably wasn’t a very efficient vehicle, but it would certainly impress anyone coming from a world with lower technology.

  “Please,” the Teosian said again. “Come back to the Gate House, and let’s talk in comfort. My name’s Parabantha, I’m the deputy gatekeeper today.”

  “Thanks,” Lorne said, and spoke into his microphone. “Kaminsky, we’re going to the Gate House with these folks. Button up, and wait here for us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kaminsky said, and Lorne beckoned for the others to join him.

  “I’m Major Lorne,” he said, to the Teosian’s leader. “Dr. Zelenka, Lance Corporal Peebles.”

  “Deputy Gatekeeper Parabantha,” the Teosian said again, and waved them toward the car. “Won’t you come aboard?”

  Radek hauled himself up into the darkened compartment, pleased to find that it was lined with leather-covered benches and was nicely warm from the boiler. Or, rather, from the steam that worked the drive wheels, but he wasn’t going to be picky about definitions. Peebles seated herself where she could cover Parabantha and the driver, but the gatekeeper seemed unaware of the precaution. He eased past her to open a small window and gave an order to the driver. A moment later, with a clashing of gears, the car got underway, jolting over the grass toward the brick building they had seen before. Radek pushed back one of the leather curtains, and saw, through the rain-smeared glass, the jumper waiting, and the ring of the Stargate standing dark against the gray sky.

  They pulled up beside the brick building, where an overhanging roof gave shelter from the rain, and Parabantha bustled them up a short flight of stairs and into a surprisingly comfortable-looking reception room. A cylindrical stove decorated with wreaths of wrought-iron leaves and fruit filled one corner, driving out the damp, and a young woman came hurrying with a tray of small cakes. Another young woman was busy at the sideboard, and Radek realized that the steel-and-brass mechanism that dominated it was the Teosian equivalent of a samovar. Parabantha urged them to sit, to make themselves comfortable, and Radek perched gingerly on the edge of a chair. There was very little fabric in the room, he realized, neither carpets on the floor, nor cushions on the polished wooden chairs. The windows were covered with wooden shutters, carved with a lacy design, and the floor used multiple shades of wood like tiles to create an elaborate pattern, but it seemed odd that there were no cushions. The Teosians he could see all seemed well enough dressed, plain shirts and sleeveless vests over pants and skirts, and he filed the thought for later.

  The young women served them each with tea and a selection of the little cakes, and Radek nibbled his with pleasure. The filling tasted a little like the poppy seed filling his sister used for cookies. Peebles took a cautious bite, then grinned and reached for another.

  “We’re delighted to have guests from Atlantis,” Parabantha said, his hands wrapped carefully around his cup. “May I hope that this is an official delegation?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Lorne said.

  “A diplomatic mission? An embassy?” Parabantha tipped his head to one side.

  “Not exactly,” Lorne said. “We’re actually here on behalf of the Genii, who allied with both of us.”

  “Oh?”

  Was it just his imagination, Radek thought, or had Parabantha looked momentarily disappointed?

  “They are having a problem with their ship, and I understand Teos was the last world they visited. We’re hoping to back-track their course from here.”

  “Certainly the Pride of the Genii visited us,” Parabantha said. “They landed here at the Gate Field — most impressive, to see an Ancient warship revived, though it’s our understanding that you of Atlantis have ships of your own creation?”

  He waited, and Lorne said warily, “They’re based on similar principles.”

  “Indeed. In any case, the Genii were kind enough to allow us — members of the government, myself among them — to tour the ship, and the officers and crew joined in to celebrate our Harvest Fair. Many folk come to trade, from all across the galaxy, especially now that we are no longer so hard pressed.” Parabantha paused again. “In fact, I think — I’m sure that our government would welcome the people of Atlantis to next year’s Fair. There are many worlds who would be delighted to trade with you directly, rather than having to get your goods second and third hand.”

  “That’s outside my authority,” Lorne said, “though I’m happy to pass the offer along to my commander. But right now, my mission is to help the Pride if we can. Did she have any trouble landing, or on take-off? Did they say where they were going next?”

  Parabantha shrugged. “To the best of my knowledge, the ship was in perfect condition. The Genii were very proud of it, showing it off like a first-born daughter. As to where they were going —“

  One of the young women cleared her throat, and he looked over his shoulder. She dipped her head. “Pardon me, Gatekeeper, but it’s my understanding that they were heading back to the Genii homeworld.”

  The other girl nodded. “We were their last stop, they said.”

  “Ah. Well, then, Major, that’s your answer.” Parabantha nodded. “They were on their way home.”

  “Though if you were to stay a little longer, we could inquire further,” the first girl added hastily.

  “An excellent idea!” Parabantha rubbed his hands together. “We would be glad to offer you a meal, and a place to sleep, should you need it, while we send into the city for more information.”

  Lorne hesitated, then shook his head. “Frankly, sir, you’ve pretty much confirmed what we’d expected. If there is a problem, we need to move quickly.”

  “Of course.” Once again, Radek thought he heard a hint of disappointment in the Teosian’s voice. “If it’s that urgent, of course we must not detain you. But I hope you will pass on to your leaders that we on Teos have been delighted by Atlantis’s return, and we hope that your folk will always feel welcome to visit us here.”

  “I’ll pass that along,” Lorne said. “And thank you for the tea.”

  Parabantha escorted them back to the steam-car, and they trundled off toward the waiting jumper. Lorne said nothing until they were back on board the jumper and had closed the tailgate. Peebles reached over the back of the pilot’s chair to hand Kaminsky a slightly squashed cookie, and Lorne settled himself in the co-pilot’s seat. Radek freed himself from his P90 and strapped himself in behind Lorne, who ran his hand over his controls.

  “Anything come up, Kaminsky?”

  “No, sir.” Kaminsky’s voice was muffled by crumbs; he swallowed and went on, more clearly. “I did a quick scan of the system, but there wasn’t anything out there.”

  “Did you think,” Radek said, “that they were very eager to see Atlantis involved? To establish some sort of formal relationship?”

  Lorne paused. “Now that you mention it, yeah. I’m not sure if it means anything, though.”

  “We’ve got the best trade goods,” Peebles said. “Everybody wants to deal directly with us.”

  “Yes, of course,” Radek said, “but — it occurs to me that it might be very awkward for them to do so while they are essentially a Genii client-state. We should perhaps inform Atlantis.”

  “I take your point,” Lorne said. “But first we’ve got to find the Pride.” He looked at Kaminsky. “Run the scan at maximum, as far as you can reach.”

  “Already done, sir,” Kaminsky answered. “No sign of any ship.”

  Lorne looked over his shoulder. “Doc? What do you think? Gate to the next planet, or go off-world and scan again from orbit?”

  Radek reached for his tablet, calling up the course the Genii had given them. “I think if we ga
te to P2M-770, here, we can get good coverage of the first segment of their course.”

  “Ok.” Lorne reached for the jumper’s DHD. “P2M-770 it is.”

  ~#~

  John brought his jumper out of the orbital Stargate above the uninhabited planet of P4M-191 — Ouroun, in the Ancient databases — and settled into a parking orbit. In his screens and in the windshield, the curve of the planet lay below him, seas thrashed by a coil of storms along the equator, a scattering of green-topped islands giving way to a cloud-scattered continent to the north and east.

  “Hot and steamy,” McKay said, “not to mention what looks like a pretty significant hurricane off shore. And headed right for those islands, I might add. If the Pride landed there, they’ll be in for a nasty surprise.”

  “But did they?” Teyla asked.

  McKay shook his head. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here — no large life signs, nothing but lots of trees.”

  “Trees are good,” Ronon said.

  “Except when they try to eat you,” McKay answered, and John stared at him.

  “When did we ever run into a carnivorous tree?”

  “I’m sure we must have. Everything else has tried to eat us, why not the trees?”

  “I have never heard of such a thing,” Teyla said, and John could hear the humor lurking in her voice.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” McKay said, his hands still busy on the controls. “Sheppard, I’m not seeing anything in this hemisphere. Can you take us around the other side?”

  “Sure thing.” John touched the controls, and the jumper broke orbit, curving around the planet against the direction of its rotation, plunging into night. Below them, the ground was very dark, no sign of human or any other habitation, and McKay bent closer over his screen.

  “Ok, that’s interesting. The Pride’s not here, but I’m picking up traces of metal, hydrocarbons, also some cleared land. I wonder if the Travelers haven’t used this place as a repair stop.”

  “Let me see.” John waited while the image appeared on his secondary screen, swelling rapidly until he could make out a night-vision view of plants and a bare space spreading away toward what looked like the edge of a lake. The trees had only tiny leaves, and a lot of thin, spiny-looking branches, and he almost couldn’t blame McKay for calling them carnivorous.