"Eva! Get ready to leave!" Radek dragged himself upright, the floor wobbling again, and turned back to Ember's body. He stripped off his jacket, wrapped it around his hands to drag at the smoking conduit – thick cable, heavy but not impossible to move. The heat seared his palms, and he swore loudly, but the cable moved.
"They've knocked us loose from the hive," Eva called. "We have to go now."
Radek swore again. Ember's coat was shredded, the skin beneath it green with blood, and there were half a dozen finger-sized pieces of metal embedded in his back around the knobs of his spine. But he wasn't dead. A hand moved, and then his head, and Radek grabbed him by the arms and heaved, dragging him up the tailgate and into the jumper. He slapped the door controls, saw the tailgate begin to lift. "Ok, go!"
The puddlejumper lifted, hovering a meter or so above the deck. "I can't get the door to open," Eva said.
"Try a drone!"
"Oh. Yes, of course."
Radek saw her shoulders hunch, and a moment later a drone flashed into view, exploding against the cruiser's inner hull. The bay door blew out, debris pelting the jumper's hull, and outside the stars pinwheeled past. There was no sign of any other Wraith ships, but.... "We're tumbling," he said.
"Yeah." Eva's voice was tight. "There's a gravity field holding us steady relative to the cruiser, right?"
"Yes."
"What happens when we leave it?"
"The jumper should compensate," Radek said. "Go!"
"I really hope you're right."
The jumper lurched into motion, arrowing for the center of the bay door. Radek braced himself against the rear seats, one arm across Ember's body in what he suspected would be a futile attempt to keep him still, and abruptly the cruiser seemed to spin around them.
"The gravity field's down!"
Eva didn't answer, all her attention on the controls as she fought to keep the jumper steady. They were falling sideways, heading for the edge of the bay door. Radek ducked his head, closing his eyes, and felt rather than saw the jumper scrape hard along the jagged metal where the drone had hit. It staggered, metal keening, and then they were free.
"We're all right!" Eva said. "We're okay ...."
Her voice trailed off, and Radek looked up quickly. "Except for?"
"One of the engines is out, and the jumper – either I can't fly it without it or it won't fly without it, but we're out of power."
Radek pulled himself up to the copilot's seat, scanning the navigation console. "We're okay," he said. "We're not going to run into anything immediately, and we're not going to hit atmosphere any time soon. We're okay." He suspected his voice was shakier than his words.
"Yeah." Eva nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess we are. So we just wait?"
"We wait till they stop fighting," Radek said. "And then we ask nicely for someone to come pick us up."
There were voices that echoed through Teyla's head, not through her ringing ears but through her mind itself.
“I am Waterlight of the line of Osprey.”
“You are nothing but a child!”
Waterlight. And Queen Death. Teyla opened her eyes, blinking as her vision swam. She had only been unconscious for a few moments. She lay half behind one of the seats in Death's zenana. Before her Waterlight stood with her back to Teyla, facing the other queen.
Death stood just inside the doorway, alone, but no less menacing for that, her long black hair caught up in combs of bone, her voice filled with fury and triumph. She had no eyes for anyone but Waterlight, and Teyla understood. Death had not seen Steelflower either. She had seen only a worshipper, a grunt at Waterlight's back, no more to be regarded than Bronze, stunned and forgotten on the floor.
“I am not a child,” Waterlight said. “And you will not kill me like one, craven and begging for my life.”
“So be it,” Death said. “Queen to queen.” She took a step forward, and though her hands did not rise, Teyla felt it like a physical blow, the force of her mind pressing, just as Coldamber's had in the drilling station beneath the sea. Inexorable. Heavy as weight, strong as gravity, pressing her down. Teyla had fallen beneath Coldamber's first onslaught, unexpected and relentless. She had only won later because Coldamber was befuddled with drugs. She knew she could not have stood against her.
But that was three years ago. That was before Guide's tutelage, before she had used her mind as she could, back when she still feared what she was. These things went through Teyla's mind in the moment that she saw Waterlight sway, the moment before Waterlight crumpled to the ground, a small, sad pale heap on the floor.
And Teyla Emmagan stood up. Her hip was bruised again and her leg shook beneath her, but there was the back of the seat to hand. "Look at me, Death," she said aloud.
Death raised her head from where Waterlight lay, no doubt seeing a human guard prepared to die to give her queen one more chance.
“Look at me again,” Teyla said softly, her mind like polished iron, like flowers wrought of steel.
“You will die as surely as your overlady,” Death said, but there was a flicker of uncertainty.
“I will not,” Teyla said. “This is not my day to die. It is yours. Unless you surrender and leave off this war.” An odd serenity gripped her. This was no different from a knife fight, no different from the bantos sticks, mind to mind, though anyone watching would have seen nothing of the maneuver and block, of the clash of one stick against the other.
“You....”
“I am Steelflower,” Teyla said. “And I will give you one more chance. Surrender and we shall make terms, you and I. Otherwise, I will kill you.”
“You cannot be!” Death said. “You aren't.”
“I am.” Block and parry and advance, though they stood still as statues. “The world is not what you think. I exist, part human and part Wraith. We are not so different. Now come. Let us put aside the past and look to the future together. Lay aside the burden of old wrongs.”
Pushing, so very strong, but with no discipline, no sorrow beneath it. For all her bravado, Death was very young. She was not so much older than Waterlight, and filled with anger untempered, ancient pains turned outward, every desire fanned as something that she deserved.
Teyla held, as a fighter holds her opponent at bay with both hands on the stick, holding off the pressure at arms' length, elbows locked. “Put it aside,” she said. “Whatever you have been told, whatever of the First Mothers you remember, whatever injustice you are heir to. Put it aside. You will destroy your people and all others too. What shall your blades and clevermen eat when you have made the galaxy a wasteland, killing that which you cannot consume? How shall the Returned survive when you have narrowed all bloodlines to your own? Do you not understand that you will doom your own people as well as all the other children of the Ancients?”
And there in Death's mind was the Old One – Ashes, Teyla realized with a shiver of recognition. His was the voice that whispered in Death's ear, his the promises of sweet revenge.
“Put him aside,” Teyla said, and still she held, defending but not striking. “Let it go, my sister.”
“I am not your sister!” Death said, and shoved with all her mental strength, crushing and dark as a wave, consuming all within its depths.
The surface of the water broke, and from it rose the white bird. Spray flew from its wings as they extended.
“You cannot defeat me,” Teyla said, and in that moment she knew it was true. The greater strength was hers, born of experience and life, of compassion and love, of all she had overcome to stand there. “But I can defeat you. And I shall if you will not yield.”
“I will never yield to you.” Attack again, all strength extended, a fire that rose to consume–
Quenched by mist. It cut off all light. It cut off breath, shutting down those parts of the brain that made her lungs work, holding synapses inactive though Death's body screamed to take a breath.
“Yield,” Teyla said, and she held. She held until the end, until Death died
in the prison of her orthodoxy, until her eyes dimmed and she fell to the floor.
Teyla staggered, leaning forward over the seat and lowering herself shaking beside it. Her hands shook against the soft floor covering, and she sat amid the bodies. In a moment she would get up and see if Waterlight lived. In a moment.
There was a rattle of P90 fire somewhere far away, the sounds of footsteps, of minds, human and Wraith alike. A Wraith boarding party was there, nine strong, and with them three Marines and Captain Cadman. It was Guide's man Swiftripen who led them, the one who had so wanted to impress Steelflower. Teyla felt them check at the door, heard one blade go to one knee beside Bronze.
"This one lives," he said aloud.
Laura Cadman looked in, P90 at the ready, and Teyla moved.
Swiftripen came behind her, and then he saw Waterlight and Death. "What has happened here?"
Teyla did not pull herself to her feet. She was not certain she could yet, but her voice was strong. "Queen Waterlight met Queen Death," she said. "And Waterlight prevailed. Though I do not know if she has survived her victory."
Cadman's eyes widened, and Teyla shook her head a fraction. No. It must be as she had said.
Swiftripen hurried in, flinging himself to the floor beside Waterlight and turning her over gently. "She lives!" he said, his hand to her neck. "The young queen lives!"
"The other is dead," Teyla said. "Death is dead."
Cadman helped her to her feet, one arm about her waist. She smelled of cordite and improbably of oranges. "Are you okay?"
"I shall be," Teyla said. "I am only stunned."
"Okay," Cadman said. "Hang on." Her eyes went to Death where she lay on the floor. "What happened?"
"It is over," Teyla said. Her hip twinged as she put her weight on it, and so she leaned on Laura. "It is over."
“Queen Waterlight did it!” one of Guide's blades said wonderingly. “So young and so brave.”
“And so beautiful.” Swiftripen's thought followed.
They lifted Waterlight up and tenderly laid her on a couch, while another bent over Bronze. Yes, Teyla thought. This is how the legend begins. The brave young queen in her white dress met Death face to face, and hope killed death and the world began again. That is what happened once above the City of the Ancestors, long ago and far away.
She closed her eyes and leaned on Laura Cadman's shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-six
The End of the Beginning
Radek crouched on the jumper floor, staring at the injured Wraith. He wasn't dead, but that was about all Radek could say for him. Wraith were supposed to be able to regenerate almost anything, but this wasn't looking particularly good. If he were a human – Radek had had the usual first aid training, but nothing he could remember seemed likely to help, and opening the kit carried in every jumper didn't reveal anything that looked particularly useful. Ember opened his eyes then, the pupils contracted to narrow slits; he grimaced, hands scrabbling for a moment along the padding, but then relaxed.
"We are on the jumper," Radek said. "We will be able to call for help soon."
"Not soon enough...." The words were barely a whisper.
"Tell me what to do."
"Must feed...." Ember's eyes closed again, his feeding hand lax on the padding. Was he unable to attack, Radek wondered, or was he choosing not to?
"I heard that," Eva said. "Radek, you might want to step away."
Radek ignored her, his own heart racing. He'd taken the retrovirus, he could, in theory, survive a feeding, and if Ember hadn't saved his life back in the shuttle bay, he'd certainly saved him from serious injury. "It's all right," he said, and heard his own voice thin and strained. He opened the neck of his jacket, and the shirt beneath it, aware that his hands were trembling. "I took Dr. Keller's retrovirus. He – I can let him –"
"We don't know for sure that that works," Eva said. She turned backward in her chair to stare at him. "Radek, it's too much of a risk."
"Yes, well." Radek spread his hands. "I can't just let him die." And what is the world coming to, that I am thinking this about a Wraith? What is it coming to, that a Wraith saved my life? I'm not Sheppard, these things don't happen to me... He took a deep breath. "Ember."
The green-gold eyes flickered open. "I heard. We also... worked on such a thing."
"Do it before I change my mind," Radek said.
Impossibly, something like a smile crossed Ember's face. His feeding hand moved as though of its own volition, faster than Radek had expected, fastening onto the bared skin of his chest. Pain lanced through him, worse than he would have believed possible, a hundred heart attacks, a thousand knives. It had all gone wrong, he thought, hazily, Keller was wrong, and I'm going to die. Except... his hands were unchanged, unwithered, remained ordinary and unmarked even as the pain pulled him down into the dark.
Eva swore under her breath, scrambling out of the pilot's chair, grabbing for the heavy wrench someone had left tucked into the jumper's wall straps. She had no idea what she was going to do, how she was going to stop the Wraith, but she had to try. She stopped abruptly, seeing his hand flex and release, Radek sprawling back against the base of the jumper seats, apparently unconscious but not visibly changed. Ember rolled over, his back healed beneath the drying blood and ripped leather, moved away from her, out of reach of both of them.
"I think – he is all right?"
Eva lifted the wrench, fumbled for a carotid pulse with her other hand. Yes, there it was, strong and regular, and she relaxed just a little. "I think so. Don't try it again, though."
"No." Ember shook his head. "This.... I am in his debt."
"Yeah, you are," Eva said. "You better believe it." She hauled herself back into the pilot's chair, checking the navigation screen. All the ships were green, friendlies, and she let the cloak slide away. "Hammond, this is Dr. Robinson. I'm on a puddlejumper –"
"We see you, Doctor." The voice on the radio was reassuringly steady. "Can you bring the jumper back to the city?"
"I can't. I've lost an engine pod."
"Don't worry, Dr. Robinson." That was Colonel Carter, calm as ever. "We'll tractor you aboard."
"Thank you," Eva said, and braced herself for the jolt of the beam attaching.
Five pilots lost, six injured. Four other crewmen injured. As usual the 302s had taken the brunt of the casualties. Sam nodded, listening to Franklin give the report. The Hammond's systems were stable, though the port thrusters had taken external physical damage and the shields were extremely low. But it could have been worse. Much worse. They hadn't lost a life aboard the Hammond. They'd lost five pilots.
And Rodney.
"Franklin, you have the bridge," Sam said, getting up. Everything was on course for the moment.
As soon as Atlantis landed they would follow suit, resting beneath Atlantis's shield to repair, but for now they'd maintain orbit while their allies cleaned up. The damaged Wraith ships were surrendering to Alabaster, who was granting their parole or something with oaths of allegiance to her and to Waterlight, the young queen who seemed to have finally killed Queen Death. What exactly had happened aboard the hive was a mystery to Sam, though she knew she'd have Cadman's report when she got back. Cadman had sounded like there were things she thought it best not to say on an open channel, and she respected Cadman's judgment there. Cadman was coming along nicely. Sam was very proud of how she'd handled the last few weeks, and it was time to tell her so.
But first, the infirmary. As soon as the shooting stopped and the ship was in no immediate danger, it was time to check on her people, at least the ones who were here. Hocken was on Pride of the Genii with a concussion, but she seemed to be in one piece. She hoped Mitchell hadn't managed to do too bad a number on himself with that crazy landing. He'd hit the barrier pretty hard. With any luck he hadn't broken bones.
An airman hit the wall outside the infirmary as she approached, and Sam acknowledged the courtesy with a smile. They'd all done well. Her team was coming together.
"No, I am not going to let you set it! Dr. Beckett is going to do it. He's a real doctor!"
Sam stopped dead in the doorway. That couldn't be. That complaint, that voice.... "Rodney?"
Rodney McKay was sitting on the edge of the examining table wearing a hospital gown while McNair, one of the two physician's assistants, tried to immobilize his left wrist.
"I thought you were dead!" Sam managed.
"Well, I'm not, unless your inept military pseudo-doctor kills me!" Rodney said indignantly. "I told him to just bandage it up and transfer me over to Carson, but he won't do it. Do you realize how important it is for me to have full use of my left hand?"
"I thought you were dead," Sam said again. "We couldn't beam you aboard."
"Obviously you did," Rodney said. He looked at her with a frown.
"Obviously I didn't," Sam said. "You were at eight times the range of our Asgard beams." Something was strange here.
"Colonel Carter?" her radio beeped. "Major Lorne needs to talk to you on the bridge."
"On my way," Sam said. She looked at Rodney again. It was clearly Rodney. And just as clearly there was no way the Hammond had picked him up. A thought struck her. "Did you arrive here in your clothes?"
"Of course I did!" Rodney replied. "What? You normally beam people without their clothes and just have them appear places stark naked?"
"I don't," Sam said.
"Ma'am, Major Lorne says it's urgent."
"Coming," Sam said. It would wait.
"There is much to discuss," Alabaster said, her eyes on Waterlight. "And many things that must be decided between us before we treat with others."
"Yes," Waterlight said. To Teyla she felt awkward, unused to adult counsels without her father at her side, a place that he would never fill again.
There was a soft chime at the door, and Bronze's voice came in filled with elation. "My queens, we have the Old One!"
Alabaster let out a soft hiss. "Bring him in," she said, and Teyla moved to stand beside her, Waterlight to her other side.
SGA-21 - Inheritors - Book VI of the Legacy Series Page 30