When you sent his belongings home, I was furious with you. I was certain you'd given up on him after you'd promised to do everything you could to keep looking. After a few more months with no word, though, I started to realize that 'missing in action'wasn't the hope we'd thought it was. I still can 't fully believe that he's dead that would be betraying him, somehow but I'm beginning to accept that he won 't be walking through the door tomorrow, or the next day, and I can leave the house without worrying that the phone will ring with urgent news.
I spent a lot of time placing blame at first. I had plenty to go around. I blamed the government and the military, and of course you know I blamed you. Right to your face I accused you of abusing Aiden's faith in your leadership. I've come to believe it was shortsighted to say that without any understanding of the events that led to Aiden's loss. It wasn't fair to you, but mostly it wasn t fair to Aiden, because it belittled his judgment. And I realized that he was the one I'd really been trying to blame. I was angry at him for leaving us, for hurting his grandparents, without any explanation of how or why.
I don't ever want to feel like that anymore. I love my cousin, and I'm proud of him, no matter where he is. I have to believe that what he chose to fight for what all of you choose to fight for is right, even if I can 't always see the reasons. Aiden lived for the Marine Corps and for the people he served with. He trusted you, and so I do, too.
I'm not completely sure what I'm trying to say to you, Colonel, but I want you to know that I'm not angry anymore. With the help of caring friends, I've found a kind of peace. I hope you've been able to do the same.
After he'd read the letter straight through for the third time, John sat back against the steps of the southwest pier. His fingers reflexively tightened as an ocean breeze threatened to tug the paper out of his hand. Lara Ford was a strong person. Stronger than him, in some ways.
The bright-faced lieutenant with the goofy grin and the penchant for assigning lame nicknames had been a part of John's team for a year. He'd manned Atlantis's defenses after the Wraith had overrun the city. Even once the enzyme had taken hold and he'd barely resembled the Aiden Ford they'd known, his last act in John's sight had been to risk himself to save his former team. He deserved to be remembered. So did Harper, and Travis, and Markham, and all the others. John just wasn't sure how to accomplish that without going a little bit nuts in the process.
He'd heard and understood what Ronon had said ear her. Even the act of telling the story had meant something to him, because he knew he'd just heard more complete sentences from the Satedan than anyone had in months. He'd gotten the message, but he couldn't quite bring himself to fully accept it. Not yet.
The telltale snick of the door sounded behind him. He waited, not turning to look. Today was a down day for his team, and anyone who wanted his attention badly enough to find him out here could damn well hike his or her ass a few more yards.
A gentle hand dropped onto his shoulder, and Teyla gracefully took a seat on the step above his. "You and Chewie tag-teaming me today?" he asked, keeping his voice light.
"You were missed at lunch," she responded. Teyla never pushed; that was one of the many things John liked about her. Without a word he held the letter out to her.
"I do not read your language well when it is written by hand." By her expression, though, he could see that she recognized the name at the bottom of the page. "This will take some time."
"I'll wait," he said simply.
While she read, he watched the waves, unchanging and inevitable, bumping against the feet of the city. After a few minutes, she raised her head and handed the letter back. "Have you found peace?"
He was pretty sure she already knew the answer to that. Otherwise they wouldn't be out here. "It's not that simple."
"The act is not. The question, however, is."
Exhaling a long breath, he pulled one knee up to his chest. "Not completely. I don't know how. I think maybe I'm afraid of being too okay with the losses. I mean, if a Marine dies and I just pick up and move on, what does that make me?"
Her approving look suggested that his honesty was welcome. "When we traveled on the Daedalus to Sateda, I told you that your people's dedication to each other impressed me. I should have said more. I should have told you that such dedication is one of the traits I admire most about your expedition and, even more, about you."
Caught off-guard by the praise, John couldn't figure out how to reply. Teyla might have counted on that reaction, because she pressed on. "The Athosian people have suffered great losses, both before and during my time as their leader. In spite of that, we have managed to move forward. But I believe that the day I accept a loss without pain will be the day I am no longer fit to lead."
She returned her hand to his shoulder and spoke with an earnestness that he couldn't help but believe. "Like everything else, John, it is a balance. As we have faith in you to keep that balance, you must have faith in yourself."
A knot of tension in his stomach seemed to ease at her words. He looked up at her with a faint smile, hoping she'd see the gratitude there. "I'm working on it."
"Work on it between meals," put in a deep voice. "You missed beef stew at lunch."
John started, whipping his head around to find Ronon leaning against the wall by the door. "God! Warn a guy, would you?" The big man only smirked. "Have you been there the whole time?"
Pushing himself off the wall, Ronon nodded at Teyla. "She's better at this stuff than me."
Yet he'd come along for the ride anyway. The knot loosened a little further. "I don't know," John commented truthfully, climbing to his feet. "You weren't half bad."
When the door snicked open again, it revealed an impatient scientist. "Are we done dealing with the identity crisis or whatever now? I need the Colonel in the lab."
John folded his arms, choosing to let Rodney's brash question roll off. "For what?"
"What do I ever need out of you in the lab? Your gene." Rodney heaved a put-upon sigh. "As much as it pains me to say this aloud yet again, you have significantly better control with ATA-enabled equipment than I do, especially when I'm trying to operate it and take readings simultaneously. So come be a good little guinea pig for an hour. You'll still have plenty of the day left to be philosophical."
Although John had a suspicion that this was Rodney's unique way of trying to help, he played along. "Yeah? What's in it for me?"
"Funny you should ask." With a waggle of eyebrows-Rodney could not pull off a devious look to save his life-he produced a plastic baggie containing one of Mrs. Beckett's prized scones. "All yours for a single measly hour of your time."
"How the hell did you pry that away from Carson?"
Rodney waved dismissively. "It's for the furtherance of science. If he knew, he'd be honored to contribute."
That only confirmed Rodney's motives. In deference to the man's hard-earned reputation as a self-absorbed pain in the ass, John thanked him the best way he could: by not thanking him. "Don't expect me to share this," he informed Rodney, plucking the bag out of his hand.
"Please. Like I didn't steal one for myself while I was at it?"
With the help of caring friends, Lara had said.
Maybe it could be that simple after all. At the least, it was enough to see him through to tomorrow.
John tucked the letter into his jacket and let his teammates lead him back inside.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elizabeth Christensen owns a T-shirt that says "Actually, I AM a rocket scientist." In her defense, it was a gift from her parents. A civilian engineer at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, she endures daily the burden of being a University of Michigan alum in the heart of Ohio State territory. She is a native of the Detroit area and misses her hometown hockey team. Alongside her husband, she flies a 1979 Grumman Tiger airplane with a terrific engine and a paint job only a mother could love.
Beth's previous Stargate Atlantis novels are The Chosen and Exogenesis, both co-authored with Sonny Whitelaw
.
• For more information, visit www.elizabethchristensen. com
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SNEAK PREVIEW
STARGATE SGI : RELATIVITY
by James Swallow
aniel reached the top of the stairs and looked up. And up. And up. He felt his head swim a little and his balance fluttered. A firm hand pressed into his shoulder and he glanced back to see Teal'c providing the support. "Thanks," he said lamely. "That last step is a doozy."
To be honest, Jackson hadn't really known what to expect. He'd been inside lots of big spaceships before, and one set of corridors looked pretty much like another, right? Granted, the mix-and-match tunnelsand-technology look of the Wanderer's passageways was something new, but this space, this atrium... For a moment, it took his breath away. Daniel had imagined they would come out in some sort of room, maybe like a reception chamber or a hall for audiences. He had not expected to find himself standing in the middle of what looked like parkland, having emerged from the side of a shallow hill. For long moments his brain registered a kind of disconnect. The scenery was one of sparse grasses and low, wide trees. The first Earth-like analogy that sprang to mind was the African veldt, a savan nah that went off to the horizon - or at least, it would have if there had actually been a horizon. Jackson swallowed hard and let his eyes follow the line of the landscape, over the gentle, rolling hills, finding roads and regular, oval lakes, the patchwork of what looked like farmland and clusters of buildings that were bright white stone in the even daylight.
But where the view should have gone to the vanishing point, the land did something very different. It folded up and away, and Daniel tried not to get dizzy as he walked his gaze up it, around and along until he saw the curvature coming together miles over his head. "Whoa."
Suddenly, like one of those weird optical illusion pictures, the sight popped in his brain and Jackson's sense of perception caught up to what it was he was actually seeing. "On the inside," he said to himself. "It's inside out. An inside out planet."
"Is that what it is?" said O'Neill. "Oh good. That makes a lot more sense than trees stuck to the ceiling.
Suj, still smiling in faint amusement, held her hands palms up in front of her. "Imagine a map, flat on a table. Then take it and fold it into a tube." She put her hands together. "We are inside that tube, standing on the map. Look up," and she pointed into the air, "and you see the rest of the map arching overhead." Suj inclined her head. "Do not the Tau'ri have similar colonies in their star system?"
"Only in theory," admitted Carter. "I'm familiar with the concept, though." Sam glanced at Daniel and the others. "Back in the Sixties, a scientist called Gerard O'Neill posited the idea of building a huge cyl inder in space, or hollowing out an asteroid and setting it to spin along the longest axis." She made a turning motion with her fingers. "The centrifugal force created on the inside surface of the cylinder mimics Earth-normal gravity..." Her voice tailed off. "Never thought I'd ever see one, though."
"O'Neill, huh?" said Jack. "Cool." He gave Suj a look. "No relation, in case you were wondering."
"It's incredible," Daniel took in the scope of the construction. He made out the forms of thin steel towers rising up from the surface like the spokes on a wheel, to meet at a series of spheres along the midline of the massive open chamber. "What are those?"
"The effect of gravity lessens the closer you get to the center of the Wanderer," explained Suj. "At the hub there is no effect at all. We maintain artificial solar generators up there to create the illusion of a night and day cycle."
"It's a hell of a lot of real estate to keep in a can," noted Jack.
"The Wanderer has been the heart of the Pack since the day of the first escape," said Suj, a little defensively. "Please, if you'll walk with me."
They followed a path down to the nearest of the townships, which lay clustered around the base of one of the steel towers. Close up, Daniel saw that the buildings had an organic feel to them, as if they were made of coral. He wondered if they were grown rather than assembled.
The locals matched the look of Suj and the Pack from the planet. Clothing, technology and the people themselves were an eclectic mixture. This was a magpie culture, he reasoned, tribes of people who had lost their worlds and their identities in the wake of Goa'uld oppression, and then come together to forge a new whole from the fragments. Jackson felt the same rush of excitement as he had on the planet with the stone orbs, the promise of studying something strange and undiscovered; and these were living, breathing people with a vital, ongoing culture, not simply the memorials of a civilization long dead.
In the central square of the township they came upon Vix and Ryn, along with a handful of other men and women who all wore patient and vigilant expressions.
"Hey," said Jack, giving them a jaunty wave. "Nice digs you have here. Love what you've done with the place."
Vix accepted the greeting with a nod. "O'Neill." He turned to his companions. "These are the Tau'ri of Earth. I have brought them to parley."
Ryn said nothing, but an older, dark-skinned man in a heavy tunic and robes stepped closer. "Not what we expected, Vix. Not what we expected at all. Where is the salvage our scouts spoke of?"
"Yeah, about that," offered the colonel. "If I can field that one, I'm thinking that your folks and ours were led on a wild goose chase in that regard."
"There are only war machines down there," explained Vix. "Guardians, I suspect, placed there to protect the stone monoliths. Our sweeps detected nothing that we could use."
The other man frowned. "Our needs-"
"Are known to me," finished Vix bluntly. "Do not question that. This is why I have brought these people to our home. They talk of trade."
"Words cost little," grumbled Ryn.
"Damn right they do," O'Neill broke in. "So, what do you say we see if there's something more tangible we can chat about?" He spread his hands. "We're not the snakeheads, kids. We're here to, uh..." Jack glanced at Sam. "Carter, what was that phrase?"
"Make in-roads, sir," she replied, pulling up the expression from a dull briefing document from the International Oversight Advisory that all of them had been forced to read. The world governments who knew about the Stargate were forever applying pressure for concrete rewards from the program.
"In-roads, right." Jack nodded sagely, and Daniel was struck by the fact that he gave a good impression of knowing what he was doing. "You guys saved our butts back on that pool-table planet. Helluva good way to make new friends."
For the first time, Vix cracked something like a smile. He was warming to them. "You and I will talk, Colonel." He beckoned him closer. "I have chambers where there is food and refreshment.'
Ryn sniffed. "Where you can create secret deals with the Tau'ri to strengthen your own position?"
The other man's outburst made the moment turn awkward. "I will seek only what is best for the Pack," said Vix, at length.
"Then there will be no impediment to my presence as well," retorted the other pilot, darting a look at Suj.
"Ryn is correct," said the historian. "The codes of conduct allow it. One of the Pack for each visitor. But this means O'Neill must have a companion as well."
"Oh, I getcha." Jack nodded. "Teal'c? Come with. We can get a snack."
"What about us, sir?" said Sam.
"Make nice," replied the co
lonel. "But don't wander too far."
As they departed, the dark-skinned man gave Sam a small bow. "Forgive me, I am remiss. I am Koe, and the Pack's welfare is my remit. Perhaps you and your associate would join me while our leaders talk? I would be pleased to show you some of the Wanderer."
"If it pleases you, healer," Suj broke in. "Might I speak with Doctor Jackson? It appears we have some common interests."
The two members of the Pack exchanged glances and Daniel saw a subtle communication pass between them. "Of course," said Koe.
Sam gave him a nod as they parted company and tapped the radio on her gear vest; the message was clear. Stay in touch -just in case. Daniel nodded back, and for a moment he felt a slight tinge of disappointment. They'd barely met these people and already they had defaulted to the assumption that the Pack were untrustworthy. It made Jackson feel glum; but then SG-1 had learned through bitter experience that seemingly-friendly faces were often far from it. The Shavadai, the Eurondans, the Aschen, the Bedrosians... We've had more of our fair share of knives hidden behind smiles. He sighed and gave Suj a weak grin. For once, he hoped, it would be nice to find the reverse was true.
STARGATE SGI : RELATIVITY
AVAILABLE OCTOBER 2007
For more information, visit www.stargatenovels.com
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Casualties of War Page 28