SGA 22 Legacy 7 Unascended

by Jo Graham

  “But since we don’t have any leads right now, we’re going to go talk to the Wraith about the Asgard,” John said. “Have you got your head on straight enough to do that?”

  Rodney nodded. “We’ll keep looking. But right now we know where to look to find out something about the Asgard and our weather machine—”

  “You said you weren’t sure it was a weather machine.”

  “It’s probably a weather machine. I’d be a lot more certain of that if we could find another one.”

  “So let’s go talk to the Wraith,” John said.

  SGA-22 Unascended

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Daniel watched as John brought the jumper down through the orbital gate toward the planet hanging round and blue beneath them. Even after all these years in the SGC, there was still something magical about seeing planets from space, something that walking through a Stargate didn’t entirely capture.

  The jumper began to dive down through the atmosphere, a map scrolling across the heads-up display and showing coastline and a river. The ground rose up beneath them, resolving into the patchwork of fields and coastline that Daniel was more used to seeing from an airplane, and then into a broad river wending its way toward the sea and branching into meandering tributaries. John followed the course of the river, skimming over an expanse of green marshland.

  “Alabaster has agreed to meet us at Pilgrim House,” Teyla said.

  “Where she used to suck life out of her worshippers,” Ronon said.

  Teyla appeared unruffled. “In exchange for healing those who were sick and dying.”

  “We’re not going to argue about whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing right now,” John said firmly. “We’re just going to have a little chat and try to find out what she and her people know about the Asgard.”

  John set the jumper down at the edge of the marsh near what appeared to be a fishing village. A couple of small boats bobbed at anchor, and Daniel could see white sails flashing farther out to sea. Birds wheeled in the air and settled to roost on the ledges of sea cliffs above the waves.

  “Not in the marsh again,” Rodney muttered as John headed for the back hatch.

  “Well, they haven’t built us a nice, flat, dry landing pad since last time, so, yes.”

  “I bet the Wraith used transport beams to get down here.”

  “You mean culling beams,” Ronon said.

  John had his hand on the hatch controls, but he turned, his face stone. “We are not doing this here,” he said. “Anyone who doesn’t want to play nice with the Wraith can stay in the jumper. But we are not arguing about the Wraith in front of the Wraith.”

  “I hear you,” Ronon said after a moment.

  “Good.” John palmed the controls, and the rear hatchway of the jumper opened, squelching as the end of the ramp sank into marsh grass. “Let’s go meet the Wraith.”

  Daniel would have preferred not to have to be introduced to the Wraith wet to the knees and smelling of marsh, but it didn’t seem to be a tactful moment to point that out. He stayed close to Teyla, who seemed to have a better knack than John for sticking to mostly dry ground, and tried to step where she stepped. She was using one of her bantos sticks to sound uncertain footing, and he wished he’d had the foresight to bring a stick himself.

  “Is this your first time dealing with the Wraith?” Teyla asked.

  “Not exactly my first time, no. A few years back my team and I were accidentally transported to an alternate version of Atlantis – it’s kind of a long story. While we were stuck in that universe, I was taken prisoner aboard a Wraith hive.”

  “And lived to tell about it?” Teyla asked. “You are very fortunate.”

  “I know I am. I think in retrospect that the Wraith who was my main captor was keeping me as … something between a pet and a biological specimen. He didn’t know what to make of humans who didn’t already know about the Wraith. It was an interesting experience.”

  “I am sure it was.”

  “That was back in the first year of the Atlantis expedition, so we just filed the report and didn’t think about it much. But now that I’ve looked over your records – and seen the Wraith delegation that came to Atlantis when we were fighting Queen Death – it’s interesting, because I think one of the Wraith aboard that ship was the same one that you call Guide. Todd.”

  “Guide,” Teyla said. She looked genuinely interested. “Was he the leader of the hive that captured you?”

  “I thought Wraith hives always had queens.”

  “Usually they do. But it is not unheard of for Wraith to live in hives where the queen has died, or where the survivors of defeated hives have gathered together without a queen. It is a precarious existence, but some prefer it to submitting themselves to a strange queen’s authority. Guide was in command of one of those hives for several years.”

  “This one had a Wraith Queen. Believe me, I met her.” He remembered all too vividly being the focus of her cool curiosity, her mind pressing heavily on his own. It wasn’t an experience he particularly cared to repeat.

  “That universe’s version of Alabaster, perhaps.”

  “That will be a little disturbing. I guess we’ll see.”

  They came out of the marsh onto a path that led toward the village. Several girls who were apparently cutting grasses at the edge of the path stopped to stare at them, and the oldest stepped out a little protectively in front of the others, tucking wayward strands of red hair behind her ear.

  “We don’t mean you any harm,” John said, spreading out his hands in reassurance. “We’re looking for Pilgrim House.”

  The girl relaxed a little, although she still eyed their clothing with some suspicion. “I can show you the way to Pilgrim House. I don’t know how much room there is left for you, though. Pilgrims have been coming for days and days. You’re come awfully late.”

  “Is it a special celebration?” Daniel asked.

  The girl frowned at him. “The Bride is here again,” she said, as if that ought to be obvious.

  “Our friend has been sick,” Teyla said, putting her hand protectively on Daniel’s arm as if she didn’t trust him not to wander off.

  “Oh,” the girl said, nodding in sudden tactful understanding. She spoke to Daniel in the carefully loud tones of someone addressing a senile centenarian. “Come with me.”

  “She’s expecting us,” John said. “We’re friends of… the Bride.”

  Ronon’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t argue.

  “I’m sure that’s a great honor,” the girl said, although she looked as if she didn’t really believe him.

  “Let’s just do this,” Ronon said.

  “This way,” the girl beckoned. The team followed, and the other girls followed as well, now apparently more interested in the odd strangers than they were shy. The path was little more than a beaten track, although here and there unshaped stones had been set to mark its boundaries, probably to prevent travelers from straying into the marsh. “There’s a road, you know,” the girl said as if following his thought, looking them up and down with the superiority of a teenager who couldn’t imagine being silly enough to go wading in the marsh.

  “I’m afraid that we strayed from the road,” Teyla said.

  “It’s hard to miss if you watch where you’re going.”

  “You’re being rude, Vannie,” one of the other girls said. “They’re strangers, like. Anyone could fall in the marsh. My little brother falls in up to his armpits all the time. He does it just to vex my mam, I expect.”

  “Your little brother is five years old,” Vannie said.

  “Vannie.”

  “We are grateful for your help in finding our way. We have only been here once before, and are not used to following the path,” Teyla said.

  “Then how do you know the Bride?”

  “That’s kind of complicated,” John said. “And I’m not sure you’d believe me if I explained.”

  “Some people said she went away to the
stars,” Vannie said, in a highly skeptical tone.

  “My mam says she did,” one of the younger girls said.

  “And how would your mam know?”

  “Because the Bride said, before she went away. And her handmaiden that came with her this time, she said, too.”

  “Some people say all kinds of things,” Vannie said, shaking her head.

  “Anyway, the important thing is that the Bride came back,” a third girl said, in the tones of a peacemaker.

  “Of course she came back,” Vannie said.

  “Of course?” Daniel couldn’t help asking.

  “She’s our Bride,” Vannie said, as if that were something anyone ought to know.

  Pilgrim House was a long, low building that looked more than anything like a barn. Smoke rose from a chimney at one end of the stone building, and the broad doors they faced could have admitted a team of oxen. Behind the building, a tent appeared to have been pitched, maybe to house those who wouldn’t fit inside.

  The long building might have once been a barn, but inside, it was clearly a cross between an inn and an infirmary. People had spread blankets at one end of a long, low room, making little camps around the hearth. Bundles of their possessions lay on the blankets, and several of them were passing around bowls of some kind of stew that was simmering over the fire.

  At the other end of the room, the ill and infirm lay on low beds, most with family members sitting nearby to tend them. A girl who couldn’t have been more than ten moaned, and her mother stroked her hair to quiet her. Next to her, an old man with swollen joints shifted as if to ease pain, his expression one of resignation rather than alarm. A woman just as old sat by his bedside with a drop spindle, playing out lengths of undyed wool into a lengthening thread and then winding the thread round the spindle with swift, practiced hands.

  A bustling woman with a shawl around her shoulders came up to them and looked them over critically. “You’re certainly from far away.”

  “We are here to see the Bride,” Teyla said.

  The woman snorted. “So is everyone here, young lady. You’ll wait your turn like the rest. I don’t see any of you dropping dead on the spot.”

  “That’s Mala,” Vannie said. “She’ll tell you what to do.” She and the other girls hovered around the entrance of Pilgrim House as if hoping that something exciting involving the odd strangers would happen now.

  “I see you’ve shown them the way,” Mala said. “Not over well, if they’ve been bathing in the marsh.”

  “That was before we found them!” Vannie protested indignantly. “We wouldn’t let pilgrims fall in the marsh.”

  “Not on purpose,” one of the other girls said.

  “I should hope you were old enough to have that much sense. Now, what’s become of those reeds you were cutting?”

  There was a general shuffling of feet among the girls, and Mala nodded sharply. “Go and get them, then,” she said, and waved the girls off. “Now, as to you, let’s find you a place where you can rest while you wait your turn.” The last was said in an extremely firm tone.

  “I think the Bride will want to talk to us,” John said. “We’re from Atlantis, and she’s expecting us.”

  The woman’s expression changed. “More Lanteans. I should have known from the leather you wear. It’s true, the Bride told her handmaiden that she would speak with you when you arrived.”

  “More Lanteans?” Rodney said quickly. “Is there a Lantean with them?”

  “The Bride’s new handmaiden,” Mala said. “She’s outside with the Bride and the other holy ones. I’ll go and get her.”

  She wove her way around pilgrims and bundles of possessions, and ducked outside through a side door. A moment later, Jennifer Keller came in through the same door. She smiled when she saw them, her eyes on Rodney’s face, and Rodney lit up at the sight of her. They hurried toward each other, and then checked awkwardly at the last minute, as if not sure whether to hug or not.

  Jennifer seemed to settle on an awkward sort of hand-patting gesture. Rodney cleared his throat and turned it into an even more awkward handshake. John and Teyla looked at each other in obvious sympathetic embarrassment.

  “Hi, Rodney,” Jennifer said.

  “Hi, Jennifer. Dr. Keller. Jennifer.”

  “It’s good to see you in one piece, Dr. Keller,” John said.

  “You mean uneaten?” Jennifer said dryly. “I’m fine. Alabaster and her men are outside in the tent they’ve set up. Every time she comes in here, people swarm around her, and it was getting to be a bit much.”

  “Can you fill us in before we go out there?” John said.

  Jennifer looked around at the limited privacy available, and then drew them over into the least crowded patch of space she could find. One of the local women offered her a cup of tea, which she took with a nod of thanks.

  “We’re here testing the retrovirus,” Jennifer said, cradling the cup of tea between her hands. “This is our second round of tests on this world. There are three other research sites, and we’re making repeat visits to each one. Some of the locals have been keeping an eye on the people who took the retrovirus, checking for any sign of side effects.”

  “Any problems so far?”

  “Nothing unexpected. The same temporary illness when the virus is first administered. Most of the reactions have been mild, but we’ve had a few cases of seizures. Not the kind of side effect that would be acceptable in a drug being tested on Earth.”

  “You’re still doing it, though,” Ronon said.

  “We’re working on altering the retrovirus to reduce the risk of serious side effects. Alabaster’s clevermen are spending a lot of time on that problem in the lab. But Alabaster is determined to go ahead with the testing, and it’s either help her or go home.”

  Ronon shook his head. “You think she’d let you go home if you wanted to?”

  “I’m not her prisoner,” Jennifer said. “And she’s pretty determined to maintain good relations with Atlantis, so she’s probably not going to kill me even if I told her I wanted to leave. I don’t know how long it would take her to actually get around to dropping me off somewhere with a gate, though.”

  “We have a jumper right here,” Rodney said.

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said. “But I’m doing okay. I’d rather be here where I can see for myself what the retrovirus is doing.” She shrugged. “Besides the initial side effects, we haven’t been seeing any long-term problems emerging. Nothing like the Hoffan drug. There have been some people who got sick in the weeks after they took the retrovirus, but no more than in the control group of people who didn’t get the injection.”

  “And the retrovirus works?”

  “It works,” Jennifer said. “At least, so far it does. All the initial experimental subjects survived being fed on with no apparent long-term side effects. That’s one thing we’re checking for on this visit. Alabaster and her people are also feeding on some of the same people to see if there are any harmful side effects of repeated feeding.”

  “Are we sure the people are okay with this?” John asked.

  “They say they are.”

  “They think she’s a god,” Ronon said. “That’s not exactly ‘informed consent,’ right?” Rodney looked at Ronon sideways, and Ronon met his eyes with a little shrug. “Your people say that a lot.”

  “I’ve explained what we’re doing and why we’re doing it as best as I can,” Jennifer said. “Believe me, I know this is all ethically questionable. But so is letting people lose years of their lives or die preventable deaths when we can help them.”

  “Okay,” John said, looking around at his team as if to forestall further discussion. “Dr. Keller is going to go on doing what she’s doing. That’s not actually up for debate, because it’s not actually our mission or our call. We’re going to go talk to Alabaster about the Asgard.”

  “I’ll take you to her,” Jennifer said.

  They followed Jennifer out the side door of the building int
o a tent, its woolen flaps lowered despite the warmth of the day. It was dim inside, and Daniel blinked to accustom himself to the light.

  “I’ll let you talk,” Jennifer said, and ducked back through the door into Pilgrim House. Daniel turned, and got his first good look at the Wraith they were here to see.

  A scarlet-haired Wraith queen was sitting in a woven reed chair across the tent, white-haired males standing by her chair or standing about the tent in attitudes of what Daniel suspected was boredom. One of them he recognized at once, both from photographs and from his sojourn in the alternate universe.

  “Hello, Guide,” John drawled. “We always love to see you.”

  “Sheppard.” The tall Wraith bared his teeth. Daniel wasn’t sure whether to interpret that as a smile or not.

  The Wraith queen stood, inclining her head, and both Teyla and Rodney looked up as if she had spoken.

  “Hello, Alabaster,” John said.

  “Welcome,” Alabaster said, but addressing Teyla rather than John.

  “It is good to see you again,” Teyla said, sounding more like she meant it.

  The Wraith were a matriarchal society, Daniel remembered from the few cultural notes on the Wraith they’d managed to collect. A few queens ruling over many males, who were themselves divided into castes: warriors, scientists, and the non-sentient drones who served as manual labor and cannon fodder. They had been resistant to attempts to explain that human society wasn’t set up the same way; it wasn’t clear to Daniel whether they didn’t understand, or understood but still couldn’t bring themselves to treat human males as equal to females. When they acknowledged that humans were people at all.

  “Our test of the retrovirus goes well,” Alabaster said. “We have fed on the same humans again, only months after the first experiment. It weakened them, but they will live.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” John said. Despite the casual words, Daniel wasn’t fooled into thinking he was relaxed.

  “You’d hate to have to train new pets,” Ronon said.