John glanced at the communications console, presumably making sure their microphones were turned off. “We have to figure out what to do with Dis. And then we need to get Ford back to Earth, assuming that Atlantis has fixed its little problem. But right now, Dis is the bigger problem.”
“Dr. Jackson has suggested killing him,” Teyla said. “I do not know if he is serious.”
“They did nearly kill him,” John said. “So I suppose I can’t blame him. But I guess we really can’t.”
“Probably not.” Teyla watched as Durant climbed away from the field, slowly at first, and then steadily faster, the white heart of its propulsion field glowing at its stern. It rose into the night, the field’s light dwindling until it was lost among the crowding stars.
“In orbit,” John said. He was watching the jumper’s sensor display. “No sign of any Wraith, not that I expected any. Ok, they’re breaking orbit — and entering hyperspace.”
Teyla craned her neck, but couldn’t be sure if she’d seen the flash of light or if it was just an illusion, a trick born of the star-filled sky.
“Guide,” John said. “Durant has jumped to hyperspace. We’re standing down.”
“That is good news,” Guide answered. “And next I presume we will see you lifting for Earth, to remove the Wolf from our galaxy?”
“You will,” John said, “but not before we’ve had a chance to catch our breath. We need to rest before we can leave.”
“If you must,” Guide said. “But I would not take too long if I were you. I might grow impatient.”
“We had a deal,” John said.
“We did indeed,” Guide said, “and that deal was that you would rid us of the Wolf.”
“And we are going to take him home,” John said. “Just not until we’ve rested.”
“Very well,” Guide said again, and his presence was abruptly gone from the edges of Teyla’s mind. He was still there, if she made the effort, but even the general tone of his thoughts was closed to her.
She looked at John. “And now?”
“And now we rest,” John answered.
They made their way back to the Vanir infirmary, to find Rodney hunched over his laptop and Daniel heating what looked like yet another round of instant coffee. Ford’s wife and baby were asleep on one of the corner beds, a display unit wheeled to screen them and give them at least the illusion of privacy, while Ford and Elizabeth were deep in a low-voiced conversation. Dis was still sitting on the edge of its bed, its pointed face completely expressionless — almost, Teyla thought, as though it had not moved at all since she had left.
Elizabeth looked up at their entrance, her face breaking into a wide smile. “Colonel! The lieutenant and I have been catching up on a few things.”
“Glad to hear it,” John said, without much sincerity. “Durant’s away, so now all that remains is to get Ford back to Atlantis. The problem is, we’ve got to figure out what to do about this guy first.” He nodded toward Dis, who blinked gravely.
“I have made an offer,” the Vanir said. “Release me, and I will guarantee that no one will hunt Dr. Weir any further.”
“I’m not sure we can do that,” John said, riding over a snort from Daniel and the start of an indignant comment from Rodney.
“You know, Colonel, something has occurred to me,” Elizabeth said. “Would it be all right if I asked Dis a question?”
John waved a hand. “Be my guest.”
“You’re determined to force Ran to unascend,” Elizabeth said. “Is that because she’s refused to help you? Or have you even asked?”
There was a silence that seemed to stretch forever. Teyla’s breath caught in her throat, and she could hear her own heartbeat suddenly loud in the quiet. Surely the answer could not be that simple — surely the Vanir would have tried to contact their own kin. Or would they? Could they? One did not contact the Ancestors, after all…
Dis blinked slowly, its great eyes blank. “We did not ask. How could we? Besides, it is well known that the Ascended are not permitted to meddle in the affairs of lesser beings.”
“That’s actually — well, somewhat debatable,” Daniel said. “It’s against the rules, yes, but any number of ascended beings do in fact interfere with ordinary mortals. That’s how I got ascended in the first place. And the second place, for that matter.”
“Me, too,” Elizabeth said. “And it was Ran who helped me.”
“And I’d bet it was Ran who arranged for you to be unascended where you were,” Daniel said. “Where you could be found, and find your way back to Atlantis.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Which argues that she might be willing to help her own people. Maybe even more so, since they are her kin.”
“To help others ascend is one thing,” Dis said. “To save us, she would have to unascend. What being would do that voluntarily?”
“We don’t in fact know that, do we?” Rodney asked, looking up from his laptop. “I mean, we don’t know what the limits of an ascended being’s power is, only that it’s amazing. Or at least it was pretty amazing when I was on my way to being ascended, and if it was that good without getting all the way there, you have to think that Ran might be able to do something for them without having to go all the way to unascending.”
“Well, possibly,” Daniel said. “Morgan le Fay was allowed to give us the names of two planets where we might find the Sangraal, and though the others stopped her from telling us which one we should look on, we don’t know what happened to her after that, whether she was punished or not. Oma Desala was given multiple chances, and used them to help multiple people ascend. Though I do have to point out that both Elizabeth and I were forcibly unascended for saving people.”
“We interfered very directly,” Elizabeth said. A smile flickered across her face as she glanced at Rodney. “And I hasten to say that I’d do it again. But it seems to me that it’s possible that providing genetic material, or even information that would allow for the repair of damaged genetic material — I could make a case for that being a much less direct action. Oh, I wish I could remember more.”
It was tempting, very tempting indeed, but Teyla shook her head. “I would like to believe this, but I cannot help thinking that this is the splitting of hairs.”
“That’s one thing I do know,” Daniel said. “Hair-splitting was a very popular pastime among the Ascended.”
“Very well,” Dis said slowly. “I will accept the premise for the moment. What if we ask Ran, and she refuses us?”
“Then you’re no worse off than you were before,” Elizabeth answered. “And you can proceed according to your conscience.”
“But if she says yes,” Teyla said, “then the Vanir have achieved their great need without loss to anyone. Including themselves.”
Dis raised its hands in what looked like frustration. “But this proceeds from a false assumption. There is no known way to contact an ascended being.”
“Actually, that’s not entirely true,” Daniel said. “Everywhere that the Ancients seeded populations, they also created so-called shrines, some of which contained sources of hidden knowledge, some of which contained healing devices, and some of which, yes, let the newly-settled populations contact their mentors. There are just as many shrines in the Pegasus Galaxy as there are in the Milky Way.”
“That is so,” Teyla said. “There are indeed many shrines, and many offer great gifts. Though I have never known anyone who received an answer directly from the Ancestors.”
“But there must be ones that were meant for establishing contact,” Rodney said, reaching for his laptop. “They’ll be in the Atlantis database, all we have to do is find one that looks likely —” He grimaced. “Except, of course, that Atlantis is locked down, which means I can’t do a search. Damn it.”
“We’ll have to wait until Lorne says we’re clear,” John said. “He said they were getting close.”
“Guide will not want to wait much longer,” Teyla said. “He is already unsure of our intentio
ns.”
“He’s got to be the most suspicious Wraith I’ve ever met,” John said, with a sidelong look that made her smile in spite of herself.
“I am serious, John.”
“So am I.”
“Um. There’s — I don’t know where there are shrines in this galaxy,” Daniel said, “but I know where there are half a dozen in the Milky Way. In fact, I know where there’s one on Earth.”
“You do?” John asked, and in the same moment Rodney said, “Of course you do.”
“And we’ve got that ship up there,” Daniel went on. “There’s no chance the Wraith can keep up with it. We can take that to Earth, see if Ran will help, and take Ford and his family home at the same time.”
“Guide will try to follow us,” Teyla said.
“But there’s no way he can keep up with an Asgard ship,” Rodney said. “I hate to say it, Sheppard, but this makes sense.”
“Where is this shrine you’re thinking of?” John asked.
“Scotland. The Outer Hebrides, in fact.” Daniel was looking faintly smug, Teyla saw with annoyance. “It’s on Eilean Mhure, which is one of the Shiant, or holy — or perhaps charmed — islands. Our UK members did some investigating there, and there’s some evidence that the so-called Castle Rock was actually a landing site for either the Asgard or the Ancients.”
It was, Teyla thought, essentially a good idea. She looked at John, who was nodding slowly, as though he’d come to the same conclusion.
“Well, Dis?” he asked, and the Vanir nodded slowly.
“Yes. I am willing to try this.”
“Ok.” John gave a lop-sided smiled. “So now all we have to do is convince General Landry that this is a good plan.”
Aulich had stripped her tower of machines down to the last, largest console, a black box that was as wide as Ronon’s forearm, and reached a bit higher than his waist. She and Joseph had cached the other machines on the far side of the Stargate, and had tied a ground sheet over them. They’d used the few metal stakes they’d brought with them from Atlantis to fasten the corners, and added more slivers of wood and a net of interlaced bungee cords to hold it all down, but Ronon couldn’t think it looked very secure. Or very dry.
And that was going to be a problem soon. The clouds had nearly reached the zenith, blotting out the light; the air felt heavy, and every sound seemed magnified. The breeze had died to the merest whisper, but it had a chill edge, warning of the storms to come. He could see lightning flickering along the horizon, though it was still too far off for them to hear thunder. At least the insects seemed to have stopped swarming; a few plants were still firing, but they were on the far side of the hill.
“How’s it looking?” he asked, and Aulich looked up from her laptop.
“Better than before. It looks as though we’re in a gap between two storm cells.” She turned the laptop so that Ronon could see, and pointed to the screen. “We’re here, and the storms are coming on steadily at 75 kilometers per hour. They haven’t changed their movement since I started tracking them, which means that this gap here —” She pointed again. “Is what’s going to pass over us.”
“Does that mean we won’t get any rain?” Ronon stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the images.
“Some, probably. My instruments aren’t going to pick up anything too light. But not much.” She called up the white marks that indicated the lightning strikes. They lay thickly over the two yellow blobs, but there were only three in the gap between them. “The better news is that there is a lot less lightning. A lot less.”
“Enough less to make it safe to stay in the shelter?” Ronon asked.
Aulich shrugged. “I think? At least as safe as it ever is to be outside in a storm.”
Ronon considered that. The Lanteans were more concerned about weather than his officers on Sateda had been, but then, the Lanteans both knew more about how lightning worked and had more places to hide from it. He’d lived through more than one big thunderstorm during training, and still more when he was a Runner. He wasn’t exactly eager to test himself against the storms, but he wasn’t as sure that they needed to break Atlantis’s quarantine. Especially if they were in a gap between the storms.
“Excuse me, Ronon?” Joseph called from the DHD. “It’s time for Atlantis’s check-in.”
The Stargate’s symbols were already lighting as he moved to join her. A moment later, the wormhole whooshed and then stabilized, and a window opened on Joseph’s laptop. Lorne looked out at them, his chin unshaven and his eyes heavy with exhaustion.
“Ronon. How’s it going?”
“Same as before.” From the look on Lorne’s face, nothing had changed for the better, but Ronon asked anyway. “Can we come back yet?”
“No progress with the DHD?” Lorne countered.
Ronon looked at Joseph, who shook her head. “Sorry, sir. I’ve been over the hardware half a dozen times, and I can’t find anything wrong. I’ve been waiting on a re-set, but so far we haven’t gotten one.”
Lorne grimaced. “We’re still in quarantine here. The biologists are making progress, but we’re still contaminated. I’m reluctant to bring you through unless there’s absolutely no other alternative.”
Ronon looked back at the rising storm. Lightning flickered in its base, giving brief glimpses of towering shapes among the uniform purple-black, but it was heaviest to the north and south, visual evidence of the gap Aulich had promised. “Captain Aulich’s been tracking the first line of storms, and it looks as though the big ones are going to pass to either side of us. Most likely the Stargate will draw any lightning we have. I think we can stay here safely enough.”
“The Stargates can withstand a direct lightning strike,” Lorne said. “When do you expect the storms to hit?”
“Captain?” Ronon looked over his shoulder, and Aulich came to join him.
“Sir?”
“When do you expect the storms to hit?” Lorne repeated.
“About an hour, sir.” Aulich glanced at Ronon. “I was going to get the last system under cover, and set it up for a quick shut down.”
Lorne’s mouth tightened. He didn’t like this much, Ronon thought, and, to be fair, he himself wouldn’t like it at all if he were in Lorne’s position. But on balance, he’d rather risk the storm than find himself trapped on Atlantis at the mercy of a fatal disease.
“How long will it take for the storms to pass?” Lorne asked.
“They’ve been very consistent in both speed and heading,” Aulich said. “We’ll be in rain for about forty minutes, but the worst of it — not more than fifteen minutes. Probably closer to ten.”
“And we’re between cells,” Ronon said.
Lorne nodded slowly. “All right. We’ll make contact again in two hours.”
“Better make it two and a half, sir,” Aulich said, and Lorne nodded again.
“All right, two and a half. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Ronon said, and the image disappeared from Joseph’s screen. A moment later, the Stargate closed. He hoped they wouldn’t need too much luck after all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DIS PRONOUNCED the Vanir scout serviceable, and John set Teyla to keep an eye on the Vanir while the rest of them finished stripping away the stiff cocoons that covered the ship’s interior. To John’s relief, there was a cargo compartment, just large enough to contain the puddlejumper, as well as enough narrow cabins for everyone and enough of the inert base material that fed the ship’s nutrition consoles, according to Dis, to supply a trip three times as long. John checked the MREs anyway, and was relieved to see that there would be enough to get them all to Earth. He didn’t like the idea of being dependent on the Vanir for everything. For a moment, he wished he could lie down, just for an hour or two, but told himself he could rest once they were in hyperspace. Finally, though, everything was ready, and he and Rodney headed back to the jumper, emerging onto the pavement to find the cruiser readied for lift-off, only a single blade on duty at the open
ramp.
“Presumably that’s a good sign,” Rodney said, settling himself into the co-pilot’s seat. “As long as it’s not because he’s, you know, getting ready to blast us out of existence.”
John scanned the displays as they came to life. “Doesn’t seem to be. I assume you’re not picking up anything that would suggest otherwise?”
Rodney shook his head. “You have to remember, though, I’m not Teyla. It’s not like I can pick up what they’re thinking when they’re not thinking more or less in my direction.”
John considered that for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll take it.” He touched the controls, extending the sensors’ reach — empty, all the way to the next planet’s orbit, no sign of Wraith or Travelers — and then turned his attention to communications. “Atlantis, this is Sheppard.”
There was a long pause before Banks answered, and another long wait before Lorne appeared, looking if anything more tired and less shaven than the last time they’d spoken.
“Colonel. Everything all right?”
“We’re fine here,” John said. “What’s your status?”
“We’re making progress.” Lorne glanced over his shoulder at something out of camera range. “Dr. Beckett and his team have just finished synthesizing the aerosol disinfectant, and we’re getting ready to place the canisters. We expect to be clear in about four hours.”
Assuming the aerosol worked. John heard the words as clearly as if they’d been spoken aloud, but nodded. “That’s good news. What about Dr. Parrish’s team?”
“Waiting out a storm. We’re not risking bringing them through until we get this cleared.”
“All right.”
“Will you be returning to Atlantis then, too, sir?”
John shook his head. “We can’t wait that long. Guide’s getting impatient. And we’ve managed to make a deal with the Vanir. We’re going to take the Vanir ship to Earth and bring Ford home that way. Since we can’t contact the SGC directly from here, I need you to inform General Landry that we’re on our way.”
Stargate Atlantis: Third Path: Book 8 in the Legacy series Page 23