“McKay! Get her out of here!”
“Finally,” McKay exclaimed, and the jumper began to rise, the ramp lifting. Teyla took a step back and one of the creatures leaped for the dangling end, powerful forequarters drawing it up onto the ramp. Teyla promptly fired at it, and John lifted his own weapon, lowered it again as the animal dropped away. The jumper rose more quickly, drawing out of range, and someone caught John’s shoulder.
“Quickly, inside — now.”
John obeyed, and he and the last of the Genii scrambled up a ramp that rose under them, sealing them safely inside the hull. There was a series of thuds from outside as the creatures launched themselves in a fruitless attack, and then silence. John took a deep breath, the adrenaline still rushing through him, and touched his radio.
“Jumper One, this is Sheppard. We’re all safe in here.”
“This is Jumper One,” Teyla answered. “We are also safe. Rodney thinks he can find a place for us to set down and engage the cloak. He does not think these things will find us that way.”
“Good plan. I’ll let you know what we’re going to do.”
“Yes.” She paused. “You cannot come back to the jumper, John. Not until you know what is happening with this disease of theirs.”
“Yeah. I know.” And maybe I should have thought it through a little better, but I had to back up Ronon, he thought. We couldn’t let those guys get killed.
There was a little silence from the jumper. “We will remain in contact,” Teyla said, and cut the connection.
~#~
John flattened himself against the outer bulkhead as the Genii hauled the Ancient weapon and its power back out of the area around the hatch. Ronon did the same, a crooked smile flickering across his face.
“Nice shooting.”
“You might give me a little more warning next time, buddy.”
Ronon’s smile widened for an instant. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Yeah, well.” John lowered his voice. “Teyla reminds us we can’t come back to the jumper until there’s a cure for this disease.”
“Yeah.” Ronon’s smile faded, and he shrugged. “I don’t get sick much.”
“Let’s hope that holds.” John turned, seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw the Genii captain shouldering his way through the crowd of gun handlers. “Captain! Your people have been worried about you.”
“I expect they have.” The Genii looked worn out, fine lines creasing the corners of his eyes, his hair obviously unwashed. His uniform was untidy, too, jacket open over ragged, gunpowder-stained undershirt. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Bartolan Fredek, commander of the Pride.”
“Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.” John jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Ronon Dex.”
“You should not have joined us,” Fredek said. “Not that we’re not grateful, you saved our Ancient weapon and probably also some lives, but — I told you, we have sickness on board.”
“Yeah, about that,” John said. “Want to give us some details?”
“Yes.” Fredek gestured toward an interior hatch. “This way, please.”
They followed him through a familiar tangle of corridors. The Genii had done a good job restoring the Ancient ship. John remembered her mostly as a wreck, barely able to hold pressure in even the repaired sections of her hull, but now she was solid and brightly painted, full of the bustle of a living ship. Her crew looked efficient — looked well, John thought, and gave Ronon a sidelong glance. Ronon lifted an eyebrow in answer, and John guessed he’d noticed the same thing.
They stopped at the captain’s cabin, and Fredek waved them inside. “Sit where you can, there’s not much room. I’ll send for tea.”
There was only a single chair, and that clearly went with the captain’s desk. John perched uneasily on the edge of the bunk, and a moment later Ronon did the same. “You said your people were sick. They don’t look sick.”
“That’s — complicated,” Fredek said, with a wincing smile. “Yes, nearly all my crew has suffered from an unnamed disease, one that causes fevers and vomiting and — in the end — damages those of us with the artificial ATA gene so that we can no longer communicate with the ship. It does not seem to affect people with a natural ATA gene, but I only have three of them in the crew. That’s not enough to fly the ship, and, anyway, we could hardly return to the homeworld under these conditions.”
“Yeah, but you could have contacted them,” John said. “They’ve been worried.”
“Clearly, if the Chief requested help from Atlantis.” Fredek’s voice was sharp. He paused as someone knocked at the door, and opened it to admit a young man carrying a tray with a pot and cups and a plate of small square crackers. “Thank you, Jes, that’ll be all.” He filled three cups and handed them round, then rose to be sure the door was firmly closed before he returned to his seat. “Unfortunately, we’ve had other problems on this trip. Our communications array has been sabotaged.”
Well, that’s the Genii for you. John swallowed the words, though he thought from Ronon’s expression that he was thinking something similar, and said, “And you can’t repair it?”
“Not the second time.” Fredek sighed. “And, no, we have not located the saboteur, either. But that’s a small problem compared to the disease.”
“Avenger — the Pride — should have decontamination systems,” John said, frowning as he tried to remember the ship’s capabilities from his brief time at her helm. “And what about your doctors?”
“Our medical staff is not extensive,” Fredek said, “and they were sick, too. Except for Dr. Innyes, she’s one of the three who have the natural ATA gene. And, yes, we decontaminated the ship. It’s the first thing we did when we landed. We moved everyone off the ship, set up camp outside, and ran the decontamination protocols. They seemed to be successful; most of our sick recovered, but then we were besieged by the animals you saw out there. There were only a couple at first, but they just kept coming, and finally we moved everyone back on board. And two people came down with the same illness. They’re in isolation now, and there haven’t been any more cases, but — we’re not cured.”
“I thought most people who have a bug and get over it develop immunity,” John said. For a moment, he wished they’d brought Carson — but of course, they could send for him, just as soon as they figured out what Fredek wanted to do.
“Often, yes,” Fredek said, “but this doesn’t seem to work that way.” The intercom chimed, and he reached for it. “Bartolan here.”
“Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but those creatures are continuing to swarm. Permission to take some shots from the hull guns to see if that discourages them?”
“What exactly are they doing, First Officer?”
“Pacing around the campsite. They’ve trampled the generator for the fence. A few of them are still trying to beat their way in through the main hatch, those are the ones I’d like most to discourage.”
“You won’t find a gun on this ship that will depress far enough to bear on the hatch,” Fredek said. “See if the systems engineer can put a charge through the hull around the hatch, that might help. Otherwise — the last thing I want to do is start a fire.”
“I’ll talk to her, sir,” the voice answered, and the intercom switched off.
Fredek reached for his tea. ”I don’t suppose Atlantis has run into anything like these creatures before?”
“Sorry, no.” John shook his head.
“There are a hell of a lot of them out there,” Ronon said. “And they’re… stubborn. Most predators, you ought to be able to drive them off by killing a few, but these things just kept coming. More like bugs than animals.”
“That’s possible,” Fredek said, thoughtfully. “Our gun crew found traces of a liquid that might indicate a scent trail.”
That was an unpleasant thought, hundreds of these enormous hyena-like beasts drawn mindlessly to the downed ship. John said, “Maybe the best thing to do would be to ta
ke the Pride into orbit. We — the jumper could act as escort, and relay the news to your homeworld.”
“We’d also thought of that,” Fredek said. “My systems engineer is working out all the bypasses and workarounds we’ll need to run the ship without a crew capable of using the Ancient interface.“
He stopped, and John cocked his head to one side. “Let me guess. More sabotage?”
“It’s being repaired,” Fredek said stiffly. “But we’re not finished yet.”
“Maybe I can help,” John said. “I’m not a technician, but I do have the ATA gene.”
“By all means,” Fredek said.
“And I can shoot anybody who tries to sabotage anything,” Ronon said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“WE WILL REMAIN in contact,” Teyla said, and cut the circuit. The rear door was almost closed; through the last remaining gap she could see the grounded warship, the creatures flinging themselves against its sealed hull in a futile attack. They were safe from that, at least, but this disease… She made herself put that worry aside as she put aside her P90 and came forward to take the seat next to Rodney. He gave her a worried look, but his hands were steady on the jumper’s controls.
“Good. I assumed you were all right since nothing was trying to eat me, but it’s good to have that confirmed.”
Teyla smiled, as he had intended. “John and Ronon are safely aboard the Pride.”
“For some weird value of ‘safe,’” Rodney said.
“I believe that not being mauled and eaten counts as safe.”
“There’s that.” Rodney paused. “Did they say anything about this disease? Because I’ve got to say, the guys who were fighting looked pretty fit.”
“There was not time to discuss it,” Teyla said.
“That figures.” Rodney swung the jumper in a long arc that took them away from the Pride and over a low basin. Dozens of paths criss-crossed it, and more of the creatures were moving along them, converging on the downed ship. Teyla gave an exclamation of surprise.
“There are hundreds of them — perhaps more.”
“And more coming from beyond that,” Rodney said. “They’re coming in like — like ants following a scent trail, and that’s just weird. I thought maybe I could see the source — oh.”
Teyla saw it in the same moment, a low rise on the distant horizon. “Are they all coming from there?”
Rodney did something, and a new image appeared on the screen. “It looks like it.”
Teyla nodded. It seemed to be a treeless hill, its sides pocked with a line of holes and streaked with fans of different-colored dirt. Things moved on its surface, zigzagging down the slopes the grass below, but the creatures did not even look up as the jumper passed overhead.
“I’d like to take a closer look,” Rodney said. “Get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
“I think that is a good idea,” Teyla said. “They seem uninterested in flying things.”
“I’m not sure there are any,” Rodney said. “I haven’t seen any, though we maybe just scared them all away, the local birds and such.”
“Or you were right the first time, and there are none,” Teyla said. “The way the creatures ignore us may indicate that.”
“Or they’re too busy going after the Pride,” Rodney said. “Damn, that thing — it really looks like a giant termite mound. Only those aren’t anything like termites.”
The hill did look as though it had been raised artificially above the plain, and Teyla craned her neck, trying to see where the dirt and rock had come from. There were trenches radiating from the mound’s base, but there weren’t enough of them to create something that size. The creatures were well-suited to digging, with those heavy forequarters and thick-clawed paws; it was certainly possible that generations of them could have erected the structure. Though what had driven them to their current frenzy… She shook her head, peering out the window as the jumper slowly circled the mound. Creatures were still climbing out of the holes in the mound’s sides, and Rodney shook his head.
“I was hoping there’d be a finite number of those things, but they just keep coming — oh.”
A new image bloomed on Teyla’s side of the console, showing the mound and spaces and hollows beneath it, as though there were caves and tunnels running for miles under the grass. “I do not think we can count on that,” she said, and Rodney nodded.
“I don’t know why we can’t get an easy answer, just once. But, no, it looks like there could be thousands down there.”
“What do they eat?” Teyla asked. The plains looked bare of everything except the grass, barren of life. “They do not look like the sort of animal that survives on seeds.”
“There are lots of life signs down there in those tunnels,” Rodney said, grimly. “And I don’t think they’re just these things, either.”
“Perhaps we should not stay to make their acquaintance,” Teyla said.
Rodney circled the mound a final time and pointed the jumper back toward the grounded Pride. The sun was setting behind them, the grass and the steadily moving creatures casting long shadows. Ahead, the sky was growing darker, and Teyla saw the first faint glint of a star just above the horizon.
“We will need to contact Atlantis,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I think your idea was a good one, that we put the cloak on when we land. That should discourage these things.”
“Just as long as we don’t set down on top of one of their scent trails,” Rodney said. “Or whatever it is they’re following.”
“Surely that will be easy enough to avoid,” Teyla said.
Rodney shrugged. “Assuming we’ve got this figured out. I wish Ronon hadn’t done this, it’s stupid to expose himself to — whatever is wrong down there. Especially without having any details.”
“I do not see that they had any choice,” Teyla said, aware that she was trying to persuade herself as much as Rodney. Surely the Genii could simply have abandoned their weapon; there were plenty more on the ship. No one need have died to have saved them. Except that Ronon had been sure they would, and wasn’t about to let it happen, not any more than John would. The Genii captain had said the disease affected those with their artificial gene; perhaps that meant that those with the natural gene were immune, but it seemed more likely that they would be just as affected. Ronon, at least, should stay well, and should be able to care for John if necessary. She buried that thought, studying the ground and the still-arriving predators. “There,” she said, and pointed. “Where the grass has already been flattened.”
“Doesn’t that make it more likely that these things will come trampling over it again?” Rodney gave her a sidelong look.
“I do not think it was the creatures that flattened it,” she answered. “I think it was the Genii — going to fetch water from that stream, perhaps.”
“All right.” Rodney was turning the jumper as he spoke. “But if those things run into us —“
“They will regret it,” Teyla said.
Rodney gave her a startled look. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Teyla said. “But first let us contact Atlantis.”
“Yeah, better start there,” Rodney said, and the jumper rose toward orbit.
The connection was streaked with static, but the picture in the console’s small screen was clear enough. Colonel Carter looked out at them, frowning.
“Teyla. McKay. Where’s Sheppard?”
“We have found the Pride,” Teyla said quickly. “Colonel Sheppard is with them. As is Ronon.”
“Which may or may not be good news,” Rodney said, “considering they’ve had a plague on board.”
“Actually, it may not be a plague,” Carter said. “Thanks to intel gathered by Dr. Zelenka, we have reason to believe that the Pride was deliberately infected with an agent that destroyed the Genii’s artificial ATA gene. According to the informant, it was placed in the ship’s water supply. Dr. Beckett is working on an antid
ote. But in the meantime we have some information about the agent’s effects that the Pride’s people may find useful.”
“Wait a minute,” Rodney said. “How did Zelenka gather intel? That’s not his job — not his style, either.”
“Apparently someone just gave it to him,” Carter said.
Rodney scowled. “That doesn’t seem very likely.”
“Rodney is right,” Teyla began, but Carter was shaking her head.
“No, they gave us a formula, and that’s what it does. If it was turned loose on the Pride, it would have made people sick, and when they recovered, they’d find that the artificial ATA gene no longer worked for them, so they’d be unable to connect with the ship.”
“Colonel Sheppard has gone on board.” Teyla was unable to keep her voice from sounding sharp.
“He should be all right,” Carter said. “Beckett says the agent doesn’t affect the natural ATA gene at all. Ronon’s more likely to get sick, though it shouldn’t cause him any serious problems.”
“That is good to hear.” Teyla felt her shoulders relax at that.
Carter nodded. “I’ll inform the Genii — not that there’s anything they can do, if I’m reading the connection right.”
“No, it’s an orbital gate,” Rodney said. “And you also ought to know that there are a bunch of big hyena-insect-digger things that are very interested in the Pride. I don’t think there’s anything they can do to the hull, but nobody can leave the ship right now.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” Carter said. “Radim’s going to love hearing that.” She paused, her expression thoughtful. “All right, Beckett’s working on an antidote. I’ll send another jumper for support as soon as I have one available — and I’ll try to send the antidote with them if it’s ready. Do you have any information on conditions on board the Pride?”
“We have not had much chance to speak to them,” Teyla said. “Though we saw many of the crew in action, and they all seemed well. I will speak with Colonel Sheppard as soon as we can, and try to get you that information.”
Stargate Atlantis #24 Page 22