SGA-21 - Inheritors - Book VI of the Legacy Series

by Melissa Scott

  "We have a potential problem," Sheppard said quietly. "Can you access the security cameras without everyone knowing about it?"

  Radek paused. "Yes. Or at least they won't know immediately. But once I have looked, anyone who comes after me will see the search."

  "That's probably all right," Sheppard said, though he didn't look as though he entirely believed it himself.

  "It would be helpful if you had a place you wanted me to look," Radek said. "And a time? A range of times? Or maybe you could just tell me what is going on."

  Sheppard gave a crooked grin. "Oh, come on, Doc, nobody ever tells anybody that." He sobered abruptly. "An object has gone missing – a package, about so big." He mimed a rectangle half a meter long and maybe a hand's-breadth wide. "It was in a secure location, or at least what I thought was secure, but someone's taken it. I need to find it before anyone knows it's gone. And that means –"

  Radek nodded. "I will keep my mouth shut, of course. Where was this – package – taken from?"

  Sheppard looked over his shoulder. "Maybe we could take this somewhere more private?"

  "Okay." Radek beckoned to Dr. Merritt, who rose reluctantly from his place. "You're all right with the underwater sensors now?"

  Merritt nodded.

  "Then I am going to get some breakfast. Next time, it would be better to check the cameras first."

  "Yeah," Merritt said. "I'm sorry, Dr. Zelenka, I just forgot."

  "Yes, well," Radek said. "Not again, please?" He nodded to Sheppard. "And I am at your disposal, Colonel."

  "After you," Sheppard said.

  After a moment's thought, Radek took him to one of the smaller system labs, not often used except when they were running full-systems tests on the city. He entered his passcodes and brought the consoles to life, then typed more commands to let himself into the security system. A map of the city blossomed on the screen, slowly rotating, and he looked over his shoulder at Sheppard.

  "Okay," he said again. "Tell me where this thing was so I can start to look."

  "Here." Sheppard touched one of the smaller southwest towers, just below the top chamber. "I'm guessing you don't have cameras there, right?"

  "Right," Radek answered, entering coordinates. "But we do have cameras in the stairwells and outside the transport chambers. When did this happen?"

  "That's an excellent question," Sheppard said. "Start with overnight."

  "Yes," Radek said, typing that in, and grimaced at the size of the datafeed. "It will take me some time to go through this, Colonel –"

  "I was afraid of that," Sheppard answered. "Look, if you find anything – radio me right away, got it?"

  "Yes, of course," Radek said, "but it would help if you told me more about what I might be looking for –"

  He stopped, realizing that he was speaking to empty air. "Of course not," he said, and frowned at the screen.

  Luckily, they had already developed algorithms that could do the preliminary analysis of the footage, but it was still almost an hour before he spotted the first anomaly, and even then it was sheer chance that alerted him. The camera in the ZPM room showed that he had entered the area at 9:19 the previous night for a routine check of the subsystems' direct readouts. Radek touched keys to reverse the image, and played it again, watching himself enter the ZPM room and walk purposefully to the console. The problem was, he hadn't been anywhere near the ZPM room yesterday. That footage – he slowed down the image, zoomed in to look at his own left hand. Yes, it had been taken the day before, there was no question about it. That was the bandage he had gotten in the infirmary after he'd cut his left forefinger reaching into one of the less accessible parts of the Hammond's engines. It was a small cut, and he'd only gotten the bandage so that he didn't bleed on the more sensitive equipment. He'd taken it off again at the end of the day, and the only sign it had ever been there was a tender spot on his finger. At 9:19 last night, he'd been in the shower, not in the ZPM room, and that meant someone had tampered with the security footage.

  Once he examined it more closely, it was easy to see what had happened. Someone had erased a section of the security record and replaced it with footage taken on an earlier occasion. It was easy enough to spot once you knew to look for it, and Radek quickly set up a search algorithm of his own to find the all-but-invisible anomalies. He wasn't surprised when the program found three more, and then another, but when it finished its search, he shook his head, swearing softly at the screen.

  He touched his radio. "Colonel Sheppard."

  There was a brief pause before Sheppard answered, and he sounded faintly breathless. "Yeah, Doc?"

  Radek hesitated, not sure he wanted to make this announcement on an open channel. "Do you have a moment?"

  "I'm kind of in the middle of something," Sheppard said slowly. "Can you give me the high points?"

  "Yes," Radek said. "You asked me to let you know at once if I found anything. I have found gaps."

  "Gaps," Sheppard repeated. "Crap."

  "Just so."

  "How many? And where?"

  "More than twenty," Radek said, glancing at his screen. "I am not quite finished with the analysis, but – too many to blame on any normal malfunction. At least one of them occurred in your area of interest, and there are others throughout the city."

  "Someone has edited themselves out of the security footage," Sheppard said.

  "That is my conclusion," Radek said.

  There was a moment of silence, and Radek guessed Sheppard was talking to someone off-channel. "Can you get me locations covered by these edits? Times, too, but the locations are the main thing."

  "Yes," Radek said. "I'm already compiling that." He glanced at his screen, checking the progress bar. "Give me another ten, fifteen minutes, and I'll have it ready."

  "Thanks," Sheppard said. "I'm sending Captain Cadman to collect it. Don't say anything to anybody else, all right?"

  "Yes, I understand that," Radek said. "Though if you would tell me more, I might be able to help –"

  He stopped, aware that he was speaking to empty air. He swore in Czech, glaring at the screen, and wondered what new disaster they'd stumbled into.

  Chapter Two

  Broken Trust

  "Here's where we need to concentrate our search," John said. It was a small briefing, with only Carter, Cadman, Ronon, and Lorne in attendance. "You all have assigned areas to search, and we need to move fast."

  "While being discreet," Carter added. "We need to find the ... object ... without drawing attention to the fact that we're looking for it."

  Cadman's eyebrows went up, but she didn't ask questions. Carter and Lorne didn't look like they had questions. Ronon figured he'd wait until everyone else left before getting the real story out of John.

  "All right, move out," John said. The others headed out, Lorne still leaning on a cane but managing a brisk pace despite it.

  "So what's this thing we're looking for?" Ronon said.

  John's face went suddenly closed. "Just find it, okay? It's about so big, made of naquadah, looks like some kind of scepter or club."

  "I heard that the first time," Ronon said. He waited a moment. "So what aren't you telling me?"

  "Nothing you need to know."

  "You sure?"

  John's gaze slid sideways. "I'm sure. Let's just find this thing."

  "Whatever you say," Ronon said, and went out into the hall. He waited until he was out of earshot, and then called Teyla on the radio.

  "Yes, Ronon?"

  "Are you up there with the Wraith?"

  "Not at the moment."

  "Sheppard knows something he doesn't want to tell me," Ronon said. "I thought you might know what that is."

  There was a pause, and then Teyla said, "We should talk. But not over the radio."

  He met her in the gym, their usual place to talk in private. Teyla was there when he arrived, standing with her hands folded as if in meditation, although he thought her calm didn't reach below the surface.
r />   "The device that is missing is the Ancient weapon we found on Alabaster's world," she said.

  "It's not her world." Alabaster might think of the place as hers, and of the humans there as her pets, but it had been the humans' world first.

  "The world where she has lived for many years. She is not the first Wraith to make a home there, Ronon. Thousands of years ago, the first Wraith visited the same world."

  "So?" His voice was harsh in his own ears, but Teyla went on undaunted.

  "They had been human beings themselves, once. They were the product of a very unwise experiment by one of the Ancestors, a man named Hyperion. He may have been trying to find a way for the Ancients to live forever without Ascending."

  "Becoming a Wraith? Not a good trade."

  "That was not his intention. But the experiment went badly wrong. Instead of creating humans with the powers of Ascended Ancients, it created the Wraith. Hyperion imprisoned them to study them, trying to find out what had gone wrong. They were here on this planet. The island base we found beneath the ice was Hyperion's laboratory."

  Ronon felt a chill run down his spine. He'd wondered who the prisoners were who'd been imprisoned in those cells on the island. He'd been glad to think that they escaped. But they'd been Wraith. The first Wraith, setting off to prey on the rest of the galaxy.

  "They killed Hyperion, and escaped his laboratory," Teyla went on. "They could not return to their homes, so they scattered to many worlds. Eventually they created the hive ships, and made their homes in space."

  "And made more Wraith."

  "They had children."

  "Same thing."

  Teyla's mouth tightened, but she carried on. ''Hyperion also created a failsafe, a weapon created to kill the Wraith. The first mothers of the Wraith took it with them when they escaped. They could not destroy it, so they hid it on Alabaster's world."

  He let the question of whose world it was go that time. "A weapon that kills Wraith. Okay. What's the big secret?"

  "It is not just a weapon to kill Wraith," Teyla said. "It is a weapon with the power to destroy every Wraith in the galaxy."

  It took Ronon a moment to find words to reply. "That's impossible."

  "Colonel Carter tells me that the Ancients once created a weapon that could destroy all life in an entire galaxy," Teyla said. "Such things were within their power. And Hyperion was a brilliant man."

  "He made the Wraith."

  "Brilliant and very arrogant. He believed his experiment would be a success. And he never imagined that the humans he thought of as laboratory animals could truly overpower the Ancients who created them."

  "So why aren't we using the weapon?"

  "Even if we wanted to, we could not," Teyla said. "It would kill all those with the genetic markers of the Wraith as well. Myself, Rodney, Torren, Kanaan, and every other human being with the Gift. Hundreds or thousands of innocent humans would die."

  "How do we know this?"

  "Alabaster warned us when we found the device."

  "Oh, Alabaster says so."

  "She does," Teyla said firmly. "I do not trust her unduly, but she is skilled in the sciences, and she knows more of the history of Hyperion's weapon than we do. And Rodney agrees with her. If you cannot trust Alabaster, surely you can trust Rodney."

  "Unless he's working for the Wraith himself."

  "He is not."

  "It's happened before. And don't say they couldn't break McKay. They can break anybody. Who knows what it did to him, turning him into a Wraith, messing with his head–"

  "Guide and Alabaster have no idea where Hyperion's weapon is," Teyla said. "Their anger that it is missing is real. And if Rodney had been compromised by the Wraith, that would be all the more reason for him to want the weapon destroyed."

  "I'm not going to argue with that." Ronon shook his head. "Sheppard should have told me himself."

  "I believe John felt you should not have to share the responsibility for destroying a weapon that could kill all the Wraith. He wanted to spare you that."

  "I'd still be responsible even if I didn't know," Ronon said.

  "I thought you would see it that way."

  "I guess I'd better go look for the weapon. So that we can do the right thing."

  He started to shoulder past her, but she caught his arm. "Please tell me that I have done the right thing by telling you about the weapon."

  "Don't you trust me?" Ronon said, and shrugged her arm away as he went by.

  The news reached Ladon Radim in the still hours before dawn: one of their most valuable agents, a man so well-placed that only the innermost circle of the government even knew of his existence, had stumbled through the Stargate on Taadin, and was demanding to see the Chief. Ladon dressed quickly, listening to the report, the sky outside the high window still glazed with stars, and gave his aide Ambros a thoughtful glance. This could not be good news, unless Varelon had lost his nerve, and that seemed unlikely. It was more likely that the Wraith had turned him, sent him back to wreak what havoc he could before he died. Ladon did not need to say that, however, and tugged on gloves against the cold.

  "Who's with him?"

  "Arrasid Bak and Colonel Hanan."

  Ladon nodded. They were both good men, loyal and reliable; if this were a Wraith trick, he could trust them to defend him. Even so, he slipped a knife into the sheath hidden beneath the sleeve of his uniform jacket, and made sure his pistol was loose and ready in its holster. There was no need to take unreasonable chances.

  They had brought Valeran to a secure site not too far from the Stargate, a low stone house distinguished from its neighbors only by the government truck pulled up inside the courtyard gate. There were soldiers as well, Hanan's men on discreet watch. Ladon returned their salute, and was ushered into what had been the informal receiving room. The curtains were drawn tight, and a fire blazed on the hearth; all the lamps were lit, and Varelon sat huddled in the central armchair, his arms folded tight as though he were cold. He shot to his feet as the door opened, and Ladon saw the movement of his shoulders as he stopped himself from bowing as though to a Wraith Queen.

  "Varelon," Ladon said, keeping his voice scrupulously neutral, and the spy ducked his head in awkward acknowledgement.

  "Chief. You know I would not have left my post for anything but dire emergency –"

  "I know," Ladon said. He eyed the other man, tall and whip-thin, his hair long and loose in the style affected by most Wraith worshippers, saw the tremors in his muscles that spoke of having been too long without the Wraith enzyme. "Sit, man, and speak plainly. I expect there's no time to waste."

  "No." Varelon sank gratefully into his chair. "Chief, you know I have been placed in the household of a Wraith commander and that he has joined the alliance of Queen Death."

  "Yes," Ladon said, when it seemed that some response was required.

  "Death has summoned her commanders and their fleets," Varelon said. "She intends to attack and destroy Atlantis."

  Ladon saw shock and fear on the others' faces, and let his breath out in a soundless sigh. "You're certain." It was not a question, but Varelon nodded anyway.

  "Sure enough that I abandoned my post and came to warn you directly. Chief, their fleet will be underway even now."

  And that was the next question answered: not merely a planned attack, but one already begun. That forced his hand. He could not allow Death to destroy Atlantis. "Ambros. Summon the inner council – tell them it's urgent, but don't give them any details. And make sure my sister attends, and the commander of the Pride of the Genii. Then contact Atlantis. Talk to them yourself, and get me a meeting with Mr. Woolsey as soon as possible." He looked back at Varelon. "I know you're in need, but can you accompany me to Atlantis? The Lanteans will want to hear the details from you directly."

  Varelon shivered, but nodded. "Yes, Chief. I'll be fine."

  I doubt it, Ladon thought, but clapped him on the shoulder as though he believed him. "Good man."

  Ronon finis
hed searching the third location on his list and pulled out his tablet to look at the city map. It could easily take them all day to search every inch of every location where the security footage had been tampered with. There had to be a better way.

  Think like your prey, his grandfather had said, years ago on childhood hunting trips. That would be easier if he knew who the thief had been. It had to be a scientist or a specialist, someone who could alter the security footage. Someone who knew about Hyperion's weapon and knew or guessed where Sheppard had hidden it. Someone either reckless or driven enough to steal it. Or else someone compromised by the Wraith.

  If it were the Wraith themselves, they'd keep it on their persons, figuring it would create a diplomatic incident to search them. So assume it's not the Wraith. Who else fit the picture? Teyla was sure that it wasn't Rodney.

  Ronon wasn't so sure. Rodney knew about the weapon because he'd been there when they found it. And he'd been compromised by the Wraith. Ronon knew better than anyone how good they were at breaking people. Rodney might still be working for them, carrying out some plan for Queen Death while he smiled and promised all his friends that he was fine. He'd been acting strangely since he came back, a new twist in his smile and something slightly off-key about his conversation, especially when the Wraith were around.

  If it were Rodney... Ronon glanced at the map. Suspicion hardened into certainty. Only one place on it mattered, a rarely-used tower room with skylights that let in the sun, some Ancient scientist's laboratory too far out of the way of the central tower and mess hall to be attractive as work space. He'd followed Rodney up there years ago, watched him stash things there and leave without ever noticing he'd been followed.

  A lot of the longtime Atlantis personnel, veterans of too many invasions and alarms, kept emergency caches of food and equipment somewhere in the city. Ronon had made something of a game of looking for them, never disturbing what he found, but remembering where he'd found it.

  He headed for Rodney's cache of supplies, despite the fact that it wasn't on his list of places to search. The transport chamber opened only three floors below the lab, and he took the stairs at a fast jog.