by Jo Graham
“I do not see Colonel Sheppard with you,” Todd said.
“He’s busy at the moment,” Sam said pleasantly. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” It had occurred to her that Todd always seemed more cooperative with her than with some — maybe because of the battle with the Replicators. If so, she was ready to take whatever advantage it gave her.
“You mean he is missing and the prisoner of a certain hive,” Todd said. “I would like to know what you would give for your consort’s safe return.”
Zelenka started to say something, and Sam put her hand on his shoulder, hopefully out of range of the camera. “Sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do know what I mean, Colonel Carter,” Todd said. “And I am prepared to tell you where Sheppard is while it is still possible for you to recover him. If you hesitate, he will be in Queen Death’s hands.”
“And then she’ll know you’re double dealing,” Sam said with a cheerful smile. “So I don’t think I’ll need to give you anything for the information.”
She thought that he would hiss and spark, but instead Todd smiled. “What have you done with Woolsey, Colonel Carter?”
“He’s on Earth right now,” Sam said truthfully. “Tending to some business. Like I said, you’re stuck with me.”
“Indeed I am,” Todd said, and bowed his head slightly with what she thought was an expression of amusement. “Then I will tell you that he is the prisoner of a very young Queen named Waterlight, aboard her hive ship at these coordinates. Waterlight is not yet a member of Queen Death’s alliance, but she hopes to be so. She will trade Sheppard to Queen Death for favorable terms. Mind you, I do not think it is an alliance she wants, but these are difficult times. We must all make what compromises we can.”
Teyla hurried into the control room and stopped, but not far enough back.
Todd could apparently see her on camera, for he nodded pleasantly in her direction. “I see the Young Queen is with you still, Colonel Carter.”
“Teyla’s a valuable part of the team,” Sam said, not certain what that was about.
“Indeed,” Todd said, grinning wolfishly. “You choose your proxies well. But you must act quickly. Once Sheppard is in the hands of Queen Death’s men, there will be nothing you can do.” He cut the transmission, and it dissolved into a burst of static.
Sam let out a long breath, suddenly aware that her hand was still on Zelenka’s shoulder. Her eyes met Teyla’s. “Not good,” she said.
“I did not hear the beginning,” Teyla said.
“I’ll recap.” Sam glanced along the control panels at Airman Salawi in the far seat. “Airman, will you ask Doctors Beckett and Keller to join us in the conference room? Also Colonel Hocken, Ronon, and of course you, Dr. Zelenka?”
“Of course,” Radek said, getting to his feet. “This is very interesting.” He pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “Are we to recall the Daedalus?”
“That’s one of the things we need to talk about,” Sam said.
Theoretically, Radek was in charge, Teyla thought. But he took his usual seat along the side of the conference room table, looking at Sam expectantly. Old habits were hard to break, and she had been in charge here once. She hesitated, looking at the chair at the end of the table. By rights it was John’s place, but he was missing. Leaving it empty was perhaps too stark. Sam slid into the chair at the end as Colonel Hocken and Ronon came in.
Ronon sat down beside Teyla. “What’s going on?”
“Todd has called,” she said. “He told us where he thinks John is.”
Ronon blew out a long breath. “Another of Todd’s deals,” he said.
“Yes. And we do not know what it portends.”
Jennifer and Carson came in together, sitting down beside Radek across from her, while Hocken took the seat on the other side of Ronon, leaning forward expectantly in her crisp flight suit.
“We’ve had a communication from Todd,” Sam said, and hit the playback to the wall screen to let it speak for itself. When the transmission finished there was a long silence.
“We go get him,” Ronon said. He put his hands on the table and looked at Hocken, who was frowning. “That’s what we do.”
Sam’s brow creased. “How?”
“What do you mean?” Ronon asked.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t,” Sam said, one finger tapping on the table. “What I’m asking is how. The Hammond isn’t capable of hyperspace travel and won’t be for six or seven days at least. The 302s have no hyperspace capability, and there is no Stargate near the coordinates Todd gave us. It’s the same problem with a puddle jumper. We don’t have any way to get there.”
“Daedalus,” Radek said. “We could recall Daedalus. Colonel Caldwell—”
“The Daedalus left three days ago,” Sam said. “Right now it’s between galaxies and out of communications. Even if we could recall Daedalus, it will take Daedalus at least three days to get back here. By that time Colonel Sheppard may be dead or traded to Queen Death. And if you’ve got a way of reaching the Daedalus while she’s in hyperspace, let me know. That’s the scientific coup of the century.”
“We can’t just do nothing,” Ronon said.
“We could try to contact the Travelers,” Jennifer said. She looked across at Teyla appealingly. “They like Colonel Sheppard. They loaned him a ship before.”
“I’m comfortable with trying that,” Sam said. “The problem is that the last time we did that it took weeks for them to get the message. We can’t count on their help in time.”
“There’s no other ship that’s hyperdrive equipped?” Hocken asked. “What about that warship the Genii have?”
“I’ll try flying the damned thing,” Carson said, putting his hands on the table. “No promises, now. But I’ll give it a turn.”
Time, Teyla thought. Time. Time to contact Ladon Radim, to hope that he could be persuaded, as unlikely as that seemed. Time to get the ship here and then get there. Time was slipping through her fingers like a fistful of water.
“Thank you, Carson,” Sam said. “I think it’s worthwhile to ask the Genii. I don’t know that they’ll cooperate. Or what they’ll want in return.” She looked at Ronon
“Sateda,” he said.
“Maybe.” Sam steepled her hands in front of her mouth. “That’s a pretty stiff price.”
Teyla closed her eyes. A ship. There must be a ship. Some way of reaching the coordinates in time, before the Wraith… Her eyes sprung open. “There is another ship,” she said. “Another ship here in Atlantis.”
Sam blinked. “What other ship?”
“The Wraith cruiser,” Teyla said. She looked down the table at Mel Hocken. “You took out the life support and made a hull breach. But its hyperdrive was intact, was it not?”
“Yes, so?” Hocken looked confused. “It’s a Wraith ship. Nobody can fly it. It’s adrift in a decaying orbit.”
Sam had been here two years ago, and she sat bolt upright in her chair, a smile breaking over her face. “Nobody except Teyla.”
“I can fly it,” Teyla said with a voice that sounded more confident than she was. “I have flown a hive ship before. I can use the interfaces. If the hull breach can be repaired and the systems restored, I can fly it.”
“We will have to see how bad it is,” Radek said. “But unless it is very bad indeed, it will be much easier to seal off compartments and isolate the breach than it is to rebuild the Hammond’s Asgard drive. That is not easy.” He looked at Sam.
“No,” she said, “it’s not.”
“I will have to go aboard and see,” Radek said. “But unless it is very bad it should be possible in a day or two, working around the clock.”
“So we go get Sheppard in the Wraith cruiser,” Ronon said. “Sweet.”
“It’s a cruiser,” Sam said. “No dart bays. No place to put 302s. And you can’t shoot it out with a hive ship. This isn’t that kind of mission.” She looked at Teyla. “If it is a mission. Let’s get Dr. Zelen
ka up there to see what kind of shape the cruiser is in, and then we’ll talk about it.” She looked down the table, making eye contact with Carson, Ronon and Jennifer in turn. “We can’t strip Atlantis of our defenses. This might be a trap. Todd has played us before.”
“Yeah,” Ronon said grimly.
“What if this is a ruse to lure you and our air cover away, to get our teams out in the field while they attack again?” She shook her head. “We can’t risk it. With Major Lorne unable to walk at present, and our shield inoperable, you’re not going anywhere.”
“Teyla can’t do this alone,” Ronon said. “Sheppard…”
“Ronon.” Sam said quietly, and to Teyla’s surprise he stopped, his hands closing in frustration. “Let’s see where we are after Dr. Zelenka has a look at the ship. If it’s not repairable, it’s all an academic question.”
“Then I had best get going,” Radek said, getting to his feet. “Carson, will you take me up in a jumper? And I will want a team together. We will need suits. Teyla, will you come?”
“Most assuredly,” Teyla said.
Of course they could not strip Atlantis’ defenses. It might be a trap. She did not think it was, did not feel it in her bones, but the one they called Todd had never been entirely honest, even when she had played his Queen to assist him in his plan. When she had been Steelflower.
And in that moment an idea blossomed.
Ronon and Jennifer walked out together, he bending his head to speak with her, Radek bustling around them in conversation with Hocken about comparative ship technology. Teyla rose to follow them, then stopped.
Sam closed her laptop, looking uncomfortable. “Teyla, you know if there’s a way to make this work…” she began.
“There is a way,” she said, and though cold dread settled in her stomach she spoke on. “A way that is certain, and risks no lives except my own.”
Sam frowned. “What’s that?”
“Dr. Keller can transform me once again into Steelflower,” she said. Teyla lifted her chin. “She is…I was…Todd’s Queen, a person of note. I cannot even begin to tell you what it means among the Wraith to be queen. I cannot explain how it feels, how a queen holds sway. What the mental bonds feel like. But if this Waterlight who has John is young and untried, I can push her. I can compel her men. I can make them release John to me.”
“And if they see through you?”
“No one did before,” Teyla said. “And I was many days among them. Why should they in the course of a single meeting or two, when I come with my own cruiser? I can demand their compliance if nothing else.”
“If they don’t buy it?”
Teyla took a step closer. “It is only my own life at risk.”
Sam’s eyes were very blue, and met hers frankly. “That’s not nothing.”
“If it were General O’Neill, would not you do it?” she asked.
Sam’s gaze slid away, and she smiled ruefully, as though shaking her head at herself. “I have,” she said. She picked up the laptop and looked at Teyla. “Ok. If Dr. Keller is comfortable with the procedure and the ship is flyable.” She smiled again. “It’s not like I can order you not to, right?”
“That is true,” Teyla said. “I am a contractor, and I can quit.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sam said. “But you’d better go talk to Keller now so you’ll have time to suit up if Zelenka needs you upstairs to initialize systems on the cruiser. Unless you were planning for Torren to do that.”
“Torren is on New Athos, and can stay there until I return,” Teyla said. “It is best. And I will speak to Dr. Keller now.”
Chapter Four
Quicksilver
The visit to Gaffen had been delayed and delayed again after the loss of the queen’s cruiser, but finally Ember had managed to convince someone that it was a priority if they were to make use of the stolen ZPM. What had proven impossible was to convince anyone that Quicksilver should accompany them. Quicksilver snarled silently at the memory. Even Ember had refused — you are too important to risk, he had said, which was probably true, but not really an adequate excuse. Nighthaze had tipped his head to one side, perplexed — your men can’t handle this on their own? — and he had not dared take the matter further.
Which meant he was stuck here, on the hive, while Ember and the others were on Gaffen, and there was no way he could ask them to investigate the last few addresses in the DHD’s buffer to see if Atlantis had dialed there. He had almost convinced himself that he was mistaken, anyway, that he was truly Quicksilver, brother of Dust, senior cleverman in the hive of Queen Death, but the decision to send his men to Gaffen wakened all his previous doubts. And now he would never know.
He snarled again, pacing the length of the chamber he shared with Ember, as much at his own melodrama as at the situation itself. He would find another way to test his hypothesis, of course — if it was impossible, he was the man to do it — but that would mean starting over again. And there was no way to predict when the queen would order another attack on Atlantis’s blocked Stargate. If he were McKay in truth, that ought to please him, but at the moment, it was only more frustration.
At least Ember’s absence gave him a chance to search the other cleverman’s files. He had been through them before, but always in haste, always with one eye on the door, for fear that Ember would return and catch him at it. This time he would have time to work without fear of being interrupted.
He went to his own console, entered a query. The screen pulsed for an instant, then displayed his answer: Ember’s shuttle had left the hive. And that meant it was time to get to work. He turned to Ember’s console, entered the codes he had stolen, and watched as the system unlocked itself. He would need to be careful, do nothing that could not be erased, but he would at least have a chance to look at Ember’s files on him. He was typing the query even as he thought, scowled as the system returned a null result. All right, maybe Ember didn’t keep a file on him — that was a point in favor of his being Quicksilver — or maybe it was just better hidden.
At second search, there was a hidden portal, secure storage reached through a second set of codes. Quicksilver stared at the screen for a moment, then entered a code he knew Ember kept in reserve. The subsystem opened obediently, but the screen was blank. Quicksilver narrowed his eyes at the screen. That made no sense; he was sure there was something here, something hidden — the numbers didn’t match, there was something in the volume in spite of the void. He considered it for a moment, then entered another code. The screen shifted, and a gameboard swam into view.
“Oh, please,” he said, irritated. If he’d wasted time on Ember’s secret plan to win at towers… And then the pattern registered: not a plan, but a problem, and in the moment he identified it, he saw the solution. He moved the silver blade, and the image dissolved, revealed a tiny list of files.
None of them had anything to do with him, either. One was communication codes — Ember was more loyal to his commander than to his queen, it seemed — and the rest were short notations, work on the ZPM and the new hyperdrive, nothing to do with him. But the last…
He caught his breath. The last was a video file, captured from the hive’s communications system — perhaps even excised from it, from the codes, and that was worth seeing. He triggered it, leaning close to capture every nuance.
A stranger looked from the screen, an unfamiliar older blade. “Old friend, I seek to confirm or deny a — possibility. In culling Gaffen this last ten-day, my queen’s blades took one who greatly resembles the Consort of Atlantis. I know you have seen him yourself, and so I set his image before you. Is this the human himself, or merely one similar?” He paused. “If it should be so, we may wish to treat, my queen and I, that we may come to some agreement with your lady.”
The screen brightened, filled with a human shape: a man sitting against the wall of a holding cell, his eyes closed, head tipped back against the cell’s wall. The camera zoomed in, focusing on the face, shifting sli
ghtly to get the clearest view. The man opened his eyes as though he’d heard something, stared into the camera as though he sensed its presence: a dark-haired man, ordinary enough, a few days’ growth of beard on his chin, hazel eyes that stared defiance.
Quicksilver closed his own eyes, his stomach roiling as though he were in freefall. He knew the man — knew him with a certainty he had not felt since before he was captured, could put a name to him, a human name. John Sheppard — Consort of Atlantis, indeed, commander of the Lanteans; the man who had led the attack on the hive, who had tried to capture him. Tried to rescue him…
Tried to answer his message. The stranger had said Sheppard had been taken on Gaffen. And that meant that his own message had been received, and answered: Sheppard had come for him — had come for McKay, and he was McKay in truth. And, unwittingly, he’d led Sheppard into a trap.
His heart was racing, painful in his chest. He was Rodney McKay, except he’d been turned into a Wraith — but that wasn’t the important thing right now. Atlantis knew that, Sheppard knew that, and they’d come for him anyway. Except Sheppard had been taken prisoner.
“All right,” he whispered. “All right. Think.”
First of all, this message was old — for all he knew, the team might have rescued Sheppard already. At the worst, he wasn’t being held by Death, because everyone in the hive would have heard that news, so Sheppard was still with this other blade’s queen, whoever she was. And that made rescue or escape a whole lot easier. Sheppard would escape. He always did.
Second — the thought was a sharp as a knife to the heart, but he faced it anyway. Second, even if Sheppard was a prisoner, there was nothing he could do about it. He had to keep his counsel, hide what he knew, and wait, either for rescue — because Sheppard wouldn’t leave him behind — or for a chance to escape on his own. Sooner or later, there would be a chance. There had to be a chance. Sooner or later, someone would come.
He took a shuddering breath, feeling his heart steady a little, extended his hands to see them shaking. They looked alien, suddenly, frightening, with their heavy claws badly tended, and the thick vein that wound around his feeding hand. He curled his fingers to fists, and looked away. Ember had hidden this file, cut it from the ship’s record and concealed it: the cleverman was playing a double game, at least, or maybe even triple, and that was something he could use.