by Jo Graham
“My gun doesn’t fire bullets,” Ronon said.
“No, it fires directed energy. Did what I just said make that sound like a better idea to you?”
“We will not fire except as a last resort,” Teyla said. She glanced at Daniel, as if making certain that he was paying attention, and he nodded.
“Got it.”
“Hopefully there won’t be anything to shoot at,” John said.
“Hostile wildlife,” Rodney said, as if John might have forgotten.
“Thousands of years ago. Maybe they’ve moved on. Dr. Jackson, any idea where we should be looking for your archaeological site?”
“The records mentioned a river near the gate.”
“For some definition of ‘near,’” Rodney said.
Ronon rolled his eyes at him. “It’s not like we’re having to walk.”
Jinx, Jack would have said. Daniel shook his head, wondering why he was thinking about the early years of his team rather than the actual team he’d left behind. He wasn’t nostalgic for those days, he told himself. Nostalgic for the people he’d worked with then, maybe, but not actually for those early days of blundering in the dark, making lethal mistakes more often than they solved problems.
They hadn’t even known what questions to ask, then, and there had been no time to look for answers that weren’t immediately useful. Now, finally, he had the luxury of doing real archaeology, the kind that didn’t involve trying to shoot pictures of artifacts while being chased past them by enemy troops. It was hard to remember how that even felt. He tried to summon up his old enthusiasm for the beginning of a dig, the promise of answers to questions he hadn’t even thought of yet, and couldn’t quite recapture the feeling. All he could think of was how many questions there were, and how inadequate the answers always seemed.
“All right,” John said. “It looks like there’s a river about thirty klicks to the northwest of here, so let’s go check it out.”
Ronon leaned over Rodney’s shoulder to look out the front window. “What are we looking for?”
“Hopefully, visible buildings,” Daniel said. “Or mounds that have accreted over buildings. I’m hoping we won’t end up having to dig too much.”
“It would have been nice if they’d built a road,” John said.
“They probably did, but we’re talking about thousands of years, here. It could be under meters of dirt, and I don’t see anything that looks like the track of a road here. You might try the jumper’s sensors, though. If the road was paved, you may be able to pick up the building material as distinct from the soil in the local area
—”
“Already on it,” Rodney said, his hands flying over the console in front of him. “And voilà.” The jumper’s screen now displayed an enhanced version of the scene outside, clearly showing a three-meter strip of irregular paving stone stretching from the gate to the northwest.
“Nice,” Daniel said.
John nodded, one hand moving affectionately over the jumper’s controls. “You ought to get yourselves one of these.”
“You know, we’ve asked, but that keeps not happening.”
“Oh, please, you have a time traveling jumper to study,” Rodney said. “You know we’ve asked for that back, right?”
“It’s like they think we would use it,” John said.
“Only as, you know, a last resort,” Rodney said. Teyla and Ronon exchanged a skeptical look.
“That’s always how it starts,” Daniel said. He squinted at the haze of trees now visible to the northwest, and then at the display scrolling across the screen. “It doesn’t look like the road goes all the way to the river. Take us a little lower.”
John obliged, bringing the jumper down to skim low enough over the grass that it billowed in the wind they kicked up.
“There,” he said, pointing to a stand of scrub trees and bushes far short of the meandering green line of the river’s course on the horizon.
“That’s not near the river,” Rodney said.
“It used to be. Look at the contours
—
there’s a depression here just the right shape to be an old ox-bow. The river meanders, a loop gets cut off, it turns into a lake, then eventually the lake dries up. What was an outpost next to the river turns into an outpost sitting in the middle of a field. But those trees suggest there’s still some source of water there
—
try running a more tightly focused scan.”
The display on the console shifted as John gave instructions to the jumper, and Rodney’s skeptical look changed to one of focused attention. “Oh, that’s definitely man made,” he said. “There’s some kind of rectangular structure down there. And metal piping running down to the water table.”
“The Ancients sunk a well. It’s probably leaking, and the water source and the slight windbreak caused by the depression in the ground is how you get trees.”
John frowned as he brought the jumper lower. “Why would the Ancients put in a well if this used to be right on the river?”
“Ah… I’m not entirely sure. Maybe the river water wasn’t drinkable without purification, which makes sense if there was a lot of native wildlife. Or maybe they didn’t want their water source to be dependent on the river’s present course.”
“Taking the really long view?”
“They did that. We’re talking about people who seeded entire civilizations. The chance of the river changing its course in a few hundred years might have seemed like next week’s problem to them. Try not to put us down right on top of the archaeological site, please.”
John set the jumper down well clear of the structure, and Daniel climbed out, pushing his way into the chest-high grass that crunched dryly underfoot as he walked. Teyla fingered a stalk, frowning.
“Problems?” John said, looking sideways at her.
“We call this tindergrass,” she said. “It grows in burned-over fields and other places where there has recently been a fire.”
“I wouldn’t say recently,” John said, pushing dry seed-heads aside as he plowed through the tall grass.
“It grows very quickly. And it burns very easily itself.”
“So would soaking wet wood, in this atmosphere,” Rodney said. “That’s why we’re all going to be really careful
—”
“We get the picture,” John said.
Ronon turned abruptly, drawing his pistol, and Rodney slapped his arm. “What did I just say!”
“I thought I saw something.”
“Probably some kind of animal,” John said.
“I figured that, yes.” Ronon pushed his way some distance through the tall grass away from their path, and crouched to brush the grasses aside. “There’s a trail here.”
“Now we get the tyrannosaurs,” Rodney said.
Ronon grinned. “Only if they’re two feet tall.”
“There were small dinosaurs,” Rodney said. “Small but vicious. Probably poisonous.”
“Can we put a hold on the extreme pessimism until we actually get to the site?” Sheppard brushed sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Please?”
“I think they’re little grazing animals,” Ronon said. “These look like hoofprints.”
“So, probably not really scary.”
“Famous last words,” Daniel said.
There was a sudden rustling in the grass, coming rapidly toward them. Daniel drew his own pistol despite Rodney’s warnings, although he didn’t thumb the safety off. Ronon and Teyla turned toward the sound, backing warily away.
Several small brown forms exploded out of the grass and raced across their path, hooves beating the ground. Everyone stared after them for a moment as they vanished into the sea of tall grass on the other side.
John adjusted his sunglasses, as if they might have been affecting his vision. “Were those horses?”
“Really short horses,” Ronon said. “With fangs.”
“They did not have fangs,” Rodney sa
id.
“You’re right, they didn’t.”
“I think we will all be fine,” Teyla said. “Let us see what we can make of Dr. Jackson’s archaeological site.”
“It doesn’t look like much,” Rodney said, squinting at the structure. There was definitely a manmade building there, its rectangular lines too regular for anything but a purposeful construction. It was half buried by vegetation, the wind having heaped up the soil against one side of it, leaving the lee side clear enough to distinguish beneath the tangle of scrubby brush. “Under all that dirt, we’re looking at, what, a metal box?”
John shrugged. “What do you want, a sign saying ‘the Ancients were here’?”
“That would be nice.”
“There’s nothing here the Ancients could have used to build with,” Daniel said. “It would have been easier to use metal than to bring in stone.”
“Well, yes, of course, but anybody could have
—
hello.” Rodney was crouching down in front of one wall of the structure, brushing away the weeds.
“It’s Ancient, right?” Daniel said without needing to see past him.
“It’s built in an Ancient style, and this is Ancient lettering, but technically it’s still possible that
—”
“McKay,” John said.
“All right, yes, it’s Ancient. There’s something weird about this door, though, it looks like maybe somebody tried to pry it open.”
Daniel crouched to see, and Rodney leaned back out of his way somewhat grudgingly. The metal was definitely scored in what he didn’t think could be an intentional part of its design. “I think you’re right,” he said. “Relic hunters?” He glanced up at Teyla for confirmation.
“It is possible,” she said. “The devices of the Ancestors are very valuable to those with the ability to use them. There are groups who move from world to world scavenging what they can from Culled civilizations. They would certainly have taken any relics of the Ancestors they could find in hopes of being able to sell them to someone who had a use for them.”
“And so much for finding anything useful to us,” Rodney said.
“Okay, what part of ‘we probably aren’t going to find any weapons’ was I unclear about? I’m just asking because
—”
Daniel broke off at a louder rustling in the grass. Another herd of the miniature horses thundered past, kicking up dust as they went. There was a whirring of wings, and a flock of birds arrowed through the underbrush, past them and gone.
“People,” Ronon said. “We have a problem.”
“I told you something would turn out to have fangs,” Rodney muttered, and then his expression changed as he turned. On the horizon, there was a smear of black and a flickering brightness, and above them the wavering mirage of rising heat. The wind was blowing toward them across the sea of grass, hot and heavy with smoke.
“Let’s get back to the jumper,” John said.
Ronon shook his head and caught him by the arm. “There’s not time.”
“Ronon is right,” Teyla said, her eyes on the rising smoke. “We would not reach the jumper.” Even as she spoke, Daniel could see new patches of flame breaking out ahead of the racing wall of fire, sparks leaping toward them on the wind.
John turned to Rodney. “Can you get that door open?”
“How fast?”
“Fast.”
“Then, no.”
“Don’t open the door,” Daniel said quickly. “If we can’t get it closed again, the fire could ruin the interior of the site.”
“Also us!”
“Move,” Ronon said, grabbing Rodney by the arm and pulling him up. Teyla caught Daniel’s arm to urge him forward, but he hardly needed the encouragement to run.
Ronon was setting their direction, not directly away from the fire but angling away from it toward the river. The smell of smoke was stronger, but Daniel resisted the urge to turn and look over his shoulder. Ronon was well out ahead of them, clearly having to slow himself down even so, and he did turn back to make sure they were all following. His expression wasn’t reassuring. “Pick up the pace.”
“Not getting enough of a workout?” John called back from behind him.
“You can do better,” Ronon said.
Rodney sounded breathless when he spoke, although he was keeping up as well as Daniel. Clearly his years in Pegasus had given him plenty of practice at running away. “Please do joke about our imminent fiery demise.”
“We’re not going to – hey!” Ronon went down, sprawling as if he’d tripped over something, but there was something odd about the way he was twisting trying to get up – he was tangled in a net, Daniel realized abruptly, a waist-high, broad woven net stretched between stakes.
“What the hell?” John demanded, slowing his pace to avoid running into the net himself. Ronon was already cutting himself free when Teyla spun, brandishing her sticks. John raised his P90, his arm tensing as if he were struggling with the urge to fire.
The attack came from the side, and for a moment Daniel thought “dinosaur,” and then, “really big bird,” and then, “I should be getting out of its way.” He threw himself to one side at the same time as the creature skidded to a halt, screeching and backing up, ducking its head to inspect them. It was built like an ostrich, but taller and far stockier, with a beak the size of Daniel’s head and wickedly sharp claws.
It had a net draped across its body. Entangled in the same net, he thought for a moment, but the edges didn’t look torn, the drape of the net too purposeful. As if it were carrying the net, or wearing it.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, putting his hands out, “we’re not going to hurt you.”
“Teyla, can you take this thing?” Ronon asked. He was up by now, his pistol leveled at the giant bird.
“I believe so,” Teyla said. “It would be unwise to shoot.”
“It’s just a really big bird,” John said, backing slowly away from the creature with his hands held up in front of him. “Nice birdie. How about we all just… ”
There was the thunder of feet, and another of the enormous birds came into view, this one even bigger, slowing but not stopping as it saw them. It raised its head and made a deep chattering noise, its eyes on the smaller one. Daniel could feel another gust of hot wind from behind them.
As if coming to agreement, both creatures lowered their heads and charged, the larger one heading for Ronon, the smaller for John. “Run!” John yelled.
Teyla swept low with her sticks, trying to knock the feet out from under the one charging John. It screamed and struck at John, its beak coming down like an axe. John swore and threw himself out of the way, and it raised one foot to rake at him.
Daniel threw himself against it with all his weight, and it staggered. It flailed out with its wings, and he saw not entirely to his surprise that the wingtips ended in long, bony fingers. They grabbed for him, trying to entangle them in the net.
Then the creature screeched again and went down as Teyla lashed out again with her sticks, its feet flailing. He could hear fabric tearing as one claw snared his pants leg. Ronon had slashed free a section of the staked net and was wielding it like a gladiator, while the other bird circled him warily.
Then Rodney was tugging him up, somewhat to his surprise. “Go, go!” Daniel needed no more encouragement. He sprinted for the horizon, Teyla and Rodney following.
“Come on, Sheppard!” Rodney yelled.
“We’re coming!”
There was an enraged squawk that he interpreted as a large bird being entangled in net. He risked a glance back over his shoulder and saw that both John and Ronon were running after them, already beginning to close the distance between them. His leg was beginning to sting in an insistent way that suggested the claw had connected with more than fabric.
The smaller of the two birds was on its feet, reaching down to bite at the strands of net that still entangled it.
Ahead of them, he could see th
e green line of brush that sloped down to the river. So could every small animal trying to escape the fire. Anything that wasn’t caught in the nets would make for the protection of the water—
“They’re going to be waiting at the river,” Ronon said, catching up to Daniel. He sounded as though this were no more than an easy jog.
“I know,” John called from behind him. “But they don’t look like great swimmers, so when we get there, everybody into the water.”
“We’re going to have to go through these guys,” Ronon said.
“We’ve just met an entirely new intelligent species, and we’re about to make first contact by shooting them,” Daniel said.
“You got a better idea?”
“Try warning shots,” John said. “And, yes, Rodney, I remember why that’s a bad idea, but we’re heading straight for the river.”
“I’m just saying the two things I didn’t want in my day were dinosaurs and fire!” Rodney said, unslinging his own P-90 and cradling it as he ran.
“They’re not dinosaurs, McKay.”
“Birds are essentially dinosaurs, any paleontologist—”
Ronon grabbed the back of Rodney’s jacket, thrusting him forward faster. “Shut up and run!”
Daniel could see the bird-creatures as they neared the river, their beaks and feathered heads partially concealed behind bushes and scrubby trees. Unnaturally sharpened sticks protruding from the bushes suggested that some of them had constructed spears to add to their natural weaponry.
The grass ended well short of the greener tangle of brush that led down the bank, with an area of scraped bare ground between them. A firebreak, he realized, and couldn’t help wondering if they’d used their claws or some kind of shovel – their wings were too short for a hand-held digging tool to get much leverage—
“Net!” Teyla called, and leapt over it gracefully, landing squarely in the dirt on the other side. Daniel managed to jump it himself, although when he landed, the stinging in his leg increased to an urgent burn. By the time he steadied himself, the others were over, John and Ronon moving out in front.
“Get out of our way!” John yelled.
“I don’t think they understand what you’re saying,” Ronon said. Daniel could see several of them moving closer, and he suspected that meant there were more moving that he couldn’t see.