“About the walls,” Cumby said, unperturbed. “Have you studied the pattern on the tapestries?”
“Pattern?” Rodney said. “What pattern? I haven’t seen two tapestries the same since we got here.”
“There are no matches.”
Rodney started to question him and then stopped. “Okay, right, photographic memory. So none of them is alike — they bore easily, and diversify their interior design. So what if none of the images repeats itself? In fact, that would seem to indicate that there is no pattern, so what are you talking about?”
Cumby stepped closer to the wall. He ran his finger down a zigzag stitched seam. “Look here.”
Rodney looked.
Then Cumby stepped about four feet to the right, and ran his finger down a different seam. This time, rather than the zigzag pattern, the two tapestries were joined by interlocking strips. The image to the right of that seam included a temple, and on the wall of that temple, a four-armed block cross pattern was formed. Closer inspection showed that the same interlocking pattern ran around the cross.
“I’ve seen this same anomaly in the pattern around various shapes throughout the city,” Cumby said. “At first I didn’t pay any attention to it — I’m always noticing things like this, and to be honest it usually means nothing at all. This time, though, I started to realize that the shapes I was seeing fell at regular intervals.”
“As if they were hiding something,” Sheppard said.
“But…”
Before Rodney could speak there was a knock on the door. When it opened, Saul stood in the doorway. He held yet another oddly colored drink, and it was obvious that he’d had several in between. His eyes were dark, and the smile that curled his lips was anything but friendly. Before he spoke, he took a sip.
“I suppose by now,” he said, “you’ve managed to put all the pieces together in your minds. The gate you came through is never going to carry you back to Atlantis, or to anywhere else. No one who visits Admah is treated any differently. You could puff out your chests, threaten me with how your people will come for you — all standard arguments, I assure you — but you’d be wasting your time.”
“Is that right?” Sheppard stepped forward, hand on his weapon.
“None of you is ever going to leave this city,” Saul said, his gaze resting on the gun, unperturbed. “It’s a simple fact that you can either accept or not — either way, you have no ability to change it. I am here to offer you the same options that we offer all our visitors. You’ve sampled our hospitality. You’ve witnessed our entertainments. I’ve explained the choice.”
“As choices go,” Sheppard said, “it leaves a lot to be desired.”
“I’d have expected more cooperation from you, of all people, Colonel,” Saul smiled. “Mara has certainly taken an interest in you and there are far worse fates that could befall a man than to catch her attention.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Sheppard said. “There is no choice, Saul. You’re holding us prisoner here. Citizen or entertainer, it makes no difference.”
“Not to mention,” Rodney said from where he stood by the wall, “the fact that we’re flying straight into the sun — and you won’t tell us what you’re going to do about it!”
“In most corners of the universe, that’s hardly considered civilized,” Sheppard agreed.
“And yet,” Saul sipped his drink again and his smile broadened, “this is the only corner of the universe that will ever matter to any of you ever again. Or to me, for that matter. Those are the rules we exist by, so here we are. You have a choice to make and I will bear witness; join us as citizens, or enter the arena.”
“I have a question,” Ronon cut in.
Everyone turned to the big man.
“I want to know about the sword,” he said. “The sword that was used to fight the Woard. That was no ordinary blade.”
“Very observant,” Saul said. “Very good indeed. No wonder the elders have been sizing you up. I thought it was just your musculature…”
Ronon glared and even Saul seemed somewhat taken aback.
“The weapons differ in every battle, of course,” Saul said. “When the adversary is one of the specials — those bred for extreme size or violence — something has to be done to even the odds. We like a good competition, and we like the bets to be worth our while. No one is entertained by a battle with an obvious outcome. Our weapons are enhanced, of course, to ensure maximum entertainment.” His gaze moved to Sheppard. “You,” he said, “could use one. And you.” He flicked a glance at McKay.
Rodney swallowed. “Me? Are you kidding?”
“We can alter those warriors who choose to fight the specials,” Saul said, studying Ronon with a speculative air, “but the weapons respond so much better to those who are born to them.”
“They wouldn’t work for me,” Ronon said. “I wouldn’t want them.”
“Too much honor,” Saul chuckled. “Of course, something like the Woard might change your mind. Bravery is all well and good, but it is no substitute for life.”
“If you say so.”
Saul didn’t answer, regarding the rest of the group with his half drunken gaze. “You have until morning to make your decisions. Think carefully, my friends, it is the most important decision you have ever made.”
With that he left and Sheppard stood very still until the door had closed behind him tightly.
“We have got to get out of here,” he said as soon as the door was shut. “And fast. Rodney — how’s it going?”
“Slowly,” he replied, as he and Cumby moved back to the tapestry and began running their hands around the seam of the cross pattern they’d been studying. After only a short search, Rodney caught something with his finger, tugged, and the panel of tapestry peeled away. “Or maybe not.”
Behind it, the wall was smooth metal, and set into that metal they saw a square panel. Rodney worked quickly. He pulled a hex key from one of his pockets and quickly unfastened the panel. Behind it, circuits gleamed and lights flashed.
He slipped cables from his pocket, plugged them into his laptop. The other ends of the cables fit snugly into jacks in the access. “Yes,” he muttered, “just the same as Atlantis.”
He tapped some keys, waited, tapped a few more, and then began typing furiously. No one in the room moved, or said a word. Finally, he tapped a final key, and waited. Sheppard found himself holding his breath. Then, suddenly, Rodney raised his hand in a fist, pumped it downward, and said, “Yes!”
“You’re in?” Sheppard guessed.
“Of course I’m in.”
“Great. Now find us something we can use — I have no intention of dying here.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Well?”
Rodney stiffened, but did not turn. “Brilliant as I undoubtedly am, you might give me a full minute in an alien system before you start checking on the status.”
“It’s been two hours.”
“It has?” Rodney glanced at his watch and looked up, blinking. “Hey, where is everyone?”
“Ronon and Teyla went to bed.”
His eyebrows rose. “Together?”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
With a shrug, Rodney got back to work. He moved his connection inside the panel once, then a second time, returned to the keyboard and, finally, with a soft outburst of triumph, he looked up. “It’s familiar in concept, but the layout is completely different. I had to trace the power couplings and work backward. Not sure how deep my access is, and if they have any security protocols running they may know we’re there, but we’re in.”
Sheppard sat up. “Can you reach the DHD configuration?”
“Trying that now,” Rodney said. He fiddled with his computer, waited, and then nodded. “Yes, I can see it but — ”
“No buts,” Sheppard warned. “Buts are always bad.”
“I can see the circuit that provides the phase shift,” Rodney said. “It’s not added on or patched in — they�
�ve integrated it into the system itself. Without that circuit in place, none of it will work.”
“Can you get around it?”
“Given time,” Rodney said. “If I go in there and just start trying to bypass things, I’m more likely to break the dialing protocol forever. And I don’t have to remind you it’s going to start getting hotter around here very soon.”
“So there’s nothing you can do?”
“I didn’t say that,” Rodney frowned, keying in a set of commands. “Come to think of it, when was there ever ‘nothing’ I could do?”
“So what are you doing?” Cumby said, trying to glance over his shoulder.
“I’m trying to work under incredibly cramped and uncomfortable conditions while idiots babble in my ear. When I’ve done something significant, you’ll be the first to know. Or the second, maybe the third. I’ll be sure to get you on the list.”
Cumby stepped back.
“Don’t mind Rodney,” Sheppard sighed. “Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by his own intellect.”
There was an abrupt knock on the door. Sheppard was on his feet in an instant, he and Cumby stepping between Rodney and the open computer access hatch. But when the door opened, it revealed only Ronon and Teyla returning.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Ronon said with a shrug.
“Rodney was just about to explain whatever it is he just did,” Sheppard said. “That might help.”
Ronon smiled, but said nothing.
“I’ve been thinking,” Cumby said as the door slid shut again. “What if we don’t get the gate working? We’re going to have to make some sort of decision by tomorrow. If they just lock us up, we’ll never get out of here.”
“Oh please,” Rodney muttered, not looking up from his work. “As if there’s even a choice! Eat, drink, and be merry, or go all Russell Crowe in the arena? It’s a no-brainer.”
Ronon glanced up and met Sheppard’s gaze. “The other choice might work.”
Cumby stared. “For you, maybe. How long you think I’d last against something like that Woard?”
“Just hold on,” Sheppard said. “Nobody is making any decisions right this second. But whatever we do, we act as a group. If they separate us, we’re going to have a harder time getting everyone out when we find a way.”
“Yes!” Rodney exclaimed.
Sheppard turned to him, eyebrow raised.
“Sorry,” he said. “But I got the signal. I’ve been able to analyze it and nail down the frequency of the signal that triggers the phase shift. I know what it is that prevents the gate from locking onto an address more than once.”
“And can you fix it?”
“It’s simple,” Rodney said, “and for once I don’t mean it’s simple for me and impossible to explain.”
He placed his computer on a small table and they gathered around. In the center of the screen a modulated sine wave had been captured, numbers and readings surrounding it. Rodney pointed to one.
“This is the frequency of the signal,” he said. “When someone dials an address on the DHD that has already been accessed, this circuit is activated. The symbols that are keyed in on the dialer create a precise pattern keyed to the location they are trying to reach. The circuit that Saul designed causes a shift in the phase of the carrier signal for the code — basically, the data itself remains correct, but the manner of its delivery is changed enough that what is dialed, and what reaches the gate, are two different codes.”
“And you already told us you can’t get past it, recreate it, or predict it,” Cumby said, “so…”
“If you’ll let me finish?”
Cumby fell silent, and Rodney continued. “The way RF radio signals are sent is by adding your signal to a carrier wave. The receiver at the other end takes the signal, filters out the carrier, and what is left is the message.”
Sheppard cocked his head. “We can use this carrier to get a message to Atlantis?”
“In theory. If we can get our message attached to that carrier frequency, and if Atlantis tries to dial the address into their DHD, and if someone on the other end is analyzing the signal to try and figure out why they can’t lock onto the gate they are trying to dial. It might open a gate somewhere, if the new code actually coincides with an address, but it breaks the connection to Admah. It’s a chance…it might be the only one we have. Zalenka is still back there. If it isn’t me working on it, he’s my second choice.”
“Get that panel closed up,” Sheppard said. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to think it through. We get one message — one chance to try and let them know what has happened, and how to get us out. Right now we don’t even know what to tell them.”
Rodney disconnected quickly from the access panel. He pocketed the cables he’d used to connect into the system and reattached the panel, tightening the screws as quickly and efficiently as possible. When he was done, he stepped back. Cumby already had the piece of tapestry in his hands and he and Teyla pressed it back into place. They were working on the final seam when there was another knock on the door. This time, there was no hesitation between the knock and the door opening.
Teyla sat down quickly while Cumby stood, gaping at the door. One small corner of the tapestry cover protruded from the design, but there was no way to smooth it out without drawing immediate attention to it. No one moved.
Mara stood in the doorway, staring in at them. The tension caught her by surprise and she glanced first at one of them, then the other, and finally let her gaze alight on Sheppard, where it held.
“What is it? You all look as if you’ve seen something horrible.” She glanced past Cumby at the tapestry, stood very still for a moment, and then turned back to Sheppard. “If you are almost done here, I was hoping you might join me for a drink?”
Sheppard glanced at the others, and then nodded. “Sure, why not?” Like it or not, Mara was their best bet of finding a way out and he wasn’t above exploiting her to get his team home. “The rest of you, get some rest. We’ll meet back here first thing in the morning.”
Mara held out her arm and Sheppard put on his most engaging smile, took the proffered arm and stepped through the door. A moment later it closed behind them and Mara drew closer, a slow smile on her lips.
The things I do for the team.
He wasn’t even joking.
Chapter Eighteen
Mara led Sheppard down the hall, but turned off before they reached the main room. “I need to talk to you,” she said. “I thought maybe we could share a drink and find some privacy. There’s a lot that Saul isn’t telling you.”
“But you will,” he said. “Why?”
She looked hurt, but somehow the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s just say that not everyone here believes Saul is the end of things. He’s made some very serious decisions for the entire city, and he’s making others for you and your people. You’ve been… interesting. The least I can do is even the odds. Without my help, you will not survive long.”
“Saul offered us the same choice he’s given all other travelers to Admah,” he said. “Join your merry band of drunkards and gamblers, or take our chances in the arena. That seems bad enough, but it gets worse?”
Mara bit her lip. “I shouldn’t tell you, but under the circumstances there’s little he can do about it. I mean, what’s he going to do? Kill me? He’s already doing that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He isn’t going to offer you a choice,” she said, lowering her voice and glancing down the empty corridor. “He’s looking for warriors, and he’s short on those with the genes to bring the weapons to life. If you and your team hadn’t come through when you did, he’d have culled his entertainers from the citizens. As far as he’s concerned, nothing in the universe is more important than the upcoming Entertainment.”
“Why?” Sheppard said, feeling a sick kind of inevitability. “Does it have to do with the shift in orbit?”
Mara nodded. “Saul believes we’ve reached o
ur peak — that there’s nothing left in the city amusing enough to be worth our time. A civilization that isn’t moving forward begins to decline, and he’s convinced that is what will happen to us if we continue as we are. I’m one of those who understand that we’ve been declining for a very long time already. If we needed any further proof, all we need to do is step back and take a look at what we’ve become. Saul doesn’t see it. He thinks that we are at the pinnacle of our strength, but that we’ll devolve into some lower form — some less civilized version of ourselves — if we don’t find an end to it now.”
“Your people — before you came to this place — they believed in ascending to a higher plane. I’ve met a few. I have to tell you that I don’t see much similarity between them, their lives, or their philosophies, and what you have here. If the games and the decadence have grown stale, why not reverse your track? Why not embrace your history and follow the path you left behind? Sure, it’ll take longer, but it’s better than just giving up.”
Mara shook her head. “We were a part of all of that once. It was so long ago I can hardly believe it happened, but we made our choice. The road back has been lost, we cannot be what we once were or what, perhaps, we were once destined to become. We are the architects of our own demise, and now we must pay the price.”
“The price?” Sheppard felt a cold beat of horror. “He’s not going to turn the city away from the sun, is he?”
She didn’t answer, for just then they came to a doorway on the right side of the passage. Mara opened it and gestured for him to step inside. Once the door was shut, she said, “I’m not really frightened that he’d try anything with me, but I’ll feel better if we talk in here. Admah is very old, and he’s had a long time to set up his tricks and traps. Saul is fond of knowing everything that happens in the city.”
“Like any tin-pot dictator.”
Mara moved straight to a cabinet across the room and pulled out two glasses. Without asking, she dropped ice cubes in each and poured out something dark and golden. She turned back and carried one to Sheppard. “Sit with me?”
SGA-15 Brimstone Page 9