"We're still a team-a family, even," the city's leader said firmly, standing from her desk and coming to join her. "Even now, or maybe especially now. The Athosians who were injured in the evacuation of the mainland are still in the infirmary. The rest have already gone to the Alpha site with the expedition's first group."
Teyla nodded and walked outside with her to the balcony. "The city evacuation is proceeding as planned?" A deep sadness settled over her heart as she watched the current group make its way through the 'gate. Perhaps she imagined it, but their steps seemed slow and unwilling, and many looked back, taking in one final memory of their adopted home.
"You could say that, except we keep amending the plans as we go." Dr. Weir glanced at her office and her desk. "We'll know whether Dr. Zelenka's mission was successful in a few hours. Until then, the Alpha site is our focus."
"And after that?" Teyla was obliged to ask. "If your people travel back to your home galaxy, will anyone return?"
A mix of emotions flitted across the Earth woman's features. She clasped her hands before her. "I don't-"
Teyla held up a hand. "I understand that such a decision cannot be made here and now. And I understand as well that your world's leaders must act on their people's behalf. Just-please ask them to consider that even if Atlantis is lost, far more will be lost to my people and many others if your expedition ends. All that has been learned, the friends and enemies made..." A sudden feeling of hopelessness swept over her as she considered what it would mean to start over again: the merciless pursuits, the constant fear. Gathering herself, she finished quietly, "It should count for something."
For a moment, Weir looked away, an unusual reaction from her. "I know. All I can promise is that we'll do everything we can to make certain that this galaxy is not left to face the Wraith alone. It would be naive of my world's leaders to think that the Wraith, knowing of the existence of Earth and the many other worlds in our galaxy, would abandon their hope of turning their sights on us. It's in all of our interests to support you."
Before Teyla could ask the whereabouts of Colonel Sheppard and Ronon, the control room shuddered and the 'gate shut down. Steadying herself on the railing, she traded a look of alarm with an equally shaken Dr. Weir, who asked loudly, "What's happening?"
"Ma'am, the exogenesis machine has reached the asthenosphere" A tech called up a map on the main screen, which Teyla and Dr. Weir both approached. "It's sending seismic shocks through the planet."
"Did everyone in transit make it to the Alpha site before the 'gate shut down?"
"Yes, ma'am. The shutdown occurred due to an inbuilt safety protocol."
Weir touched her earpiece. "Dr. Beckett to the control room, please." Her request was punctuated by another shock, and she grabbed the closest console to brace herself. "Will the city be able to withstand all this?"
"The seismic activity, yes." A scientist moved to join them. "But the shocks are initiating seismic waves-like tsunamis, but on a much larger and continuous scale. We've got about an hour until the first one hits, so we'll need to increase power to the shields before then."
"Do it," Weir ordered. "Wait as long as possible, but do it. What about our ability to dial out again? Are these shocks going to interfere with our evacuation to the Alpha site?"
"Running a diagnostic now," reported the 'gate tech.
Colonel Caldwell charged into the control room, with Dr. Beckett not far behind. The officer was poised to ask a question, but waited as the scientist continued. "This exacerbates our power problem significantly. We'll have to maintain the shield at full strength indefinitely to protect against the nanites and the shockwaves. It's also possible that the system holding Atlantis in a fixed position may not be able to withstand the sustained pressure, in which case we're going to have to employ the inertial dampeners linked to the city's engines."
"How long do we have at full shield strength before the ZPM is depleted?"
"Assuming the shocks maintain their current magnitude, which we certainly can't guarantee"-the scientist ran a quick calculation, and then looked up, his eyes bright with concern-"just under thirty-five hours."
Caldwell rounded on Beckett. "Doctor, any information to offer?"
Studying the image on the screen, Beckett shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he admitted. When Caldwell continued to stare at him, he added, "Honestly, I'd be more specific if I could. All I get is occasional bits of secondhand memory, and they're limited by my understanding-or lack thereof-of the machine. For all I know, the planet might disintegrate right under us "
By now Teyla was rarely surprised at the capabilities of the Ancestors' technology. Still, the idea that such a small object could wreak so much damage was shocking and humbling.
"How are the Daedalus repairs coming'?" Dr. Weir asked.
The ship's commander was pensive. "As expected, and not much faster. No one ever considered trying to fabricate these kinds of parts in the field before now. Titanium is notoriously difficult to work with, and my maintenance group wasn't trained in metalworking. Thirty-five hours would be a wildly optimistic goal for completion."
"I was afraid of that."
"If we're very lucky, we might be able to finish machining the necessary parts just under the wire," Caldwell said. "When the crew evacuates with the last of the Atlantis personnel, I'll assemble a volunteer crew and take the ship to the planet at the edge of this star system. We'll install the new parts and get the hyperdrive operational, then meet up with you at the Alpha site."
He didn't voice the alternative. Repairing the Daedalus's interstellar engines would be difficult enough on Atlantis, but Teyla had journeyed to that nearby planet when then-Major Sheppard's team had come under attack from the `super-Wraith,' and she knew it to be less than hospitable. She could see in Dr. Weir's expression that the other leader detested the idea of dividing the group, but it was the best choice for them all.
"Off-world activation," the 'gate tech suddenly reported. "The system appears to be stable. I don't think we'll experience another automated shutdown." Teyla turned to see the wormhole engage. "It's Dr. Zelenka."
"Radek, this is Elizabeth. Please give us good news "
"Well ...news is not the worst so far," Zelenka offered tentatively. "The Polrussons are leaving the areas that will be impacted by the removal of the ZPMs. However, I discovered new information in the Ancient database here about the nature of the force fields. They do not reinforce a rock face keeping back the water, as we had theorized. Instead, they are like huge cups, holding both water and land in place. Over the years, many faults have developed in the rock. Also, many of the ZPMs are nearing depletion. Once the first of them is removed, the power grid will be insufficient to retain land or water."
Dr. Weir seemed to process the implications quickly. "So it's all or nothing?"
"Yes." Teyla imagined the scientist walking in an absentminded circle as he talked. "The water is held in connecting reservoirs, each roughly the size of a large Earth nation. It is unlikely that we will be able to recover more than the first and last ZPMs in the chain. The others will be rapidly washed away."
"What if we sent more jumpers to collect the other ZPMs simultaneously?" Weir asked, automatically bracing herself when another tremor struck the city.
"Very dangerous," answered Zelenka. "Too dangerous. The ZPMs are deep underground. It would take too long to reach them, and any attempt to remove them even a moment early would disrupt the sequence."
"I see. But we could still get two?"
"If we are fortunate, yes."
Two modules would not save the city, Teyla knew. But the additional power would give them much-needed time to repair the Daedalus. Perhaps it would be enough.
Weir nodded, almost to herself, as if trying to restore her own confidence in order to encourage others. "Anything on the second exogenesis device?"
"I have run three different scans, and found no energy or material signature anywhere in the area to match that of the machine.
I have checked the database, even though Atlas's device was not a sanctioned part of the project. There are some files about an experiment unique to Polrusso, but I have not been able to study them yet. I will endeavor to bring them back with me."
"Do that, Radek, but we're out of time. The exogenesis machine here appears to be running another program. We need to draw maximum power for the city shield." Weir glanced at Teyla. "I'm sending another jumper through to help you collect the ZPMs."
"I will go," Teyla said immediately, knowing her team would be called upon.
"We will need a third jumper," Zelenka told them. "Jumper Two is connected to a sort of keyhole here at the lab. If it detaches, I will lose access to the complete Ancient database."
"All right. Expect two jumpers within the next ten minutes."
"Five," Caldwell corrected Dr. Weir's statement. Atlantis's leader sent him a look Teyla couldn't decipher, but he was already speaking on his com, ordering two teams to the jumper bay. Neither contained the names she had expected to hear.
"Colonel? I had assumed I would go with Colonel Sheppard and Ronon..." She left the query open.
"Colonel Sheppard is not medically cleared to fly, and Mr. Dex has been confined to quarters." Before she could grasp his words enough to request an explanation, Caldwell's attention was diverted. Raising a hand to his earpiece, he turned to Weir. "I have to get back to the Daedalus. Hermiod has a status update, and he needs to know the contingency plans. They all do."
"Go." Weir nodded as he quickly departed. Interpreting Teyla's concern, she said, "John's all right. It's just-it's a long story. Teyla, you're not obligated to join one of the jumper teams."
Weighing the choice, Teyla decided that the makeup of the team was a lesser issue. "Still, I will do so. The Marines have much left to do here. My presence on the mission will allow one of them to stay and help."
"Thank you. And good luck."
Briefly bowing her head in acknowledgement, she left.
The two jumpers descended into the 'gate room from the bay above, one following the other, almost like cars on an assembly line. Elizabeth watched them move into position for their transit through the event horizon. When both had disappeared into the rippling void, she started toward her office.
The expected sound of the wormhole disengaging never reached her ears. After a moment, she heard a timid question from the tech on duty. "Dr. Weir, you said two jumpers were going, right?"
She flew back to the railing in half a second, and saw a third craft perform a rather graceless descent from the jumper bay before being steadied by the automatic 'gate sequence. "Who is that?" she demanded, even as she realized what the answer must be.
In two strides she was at the control console and slapping at the com. "Jumper One, what the hell are you doing?"
John's response was brief, earnest, and nowhere close to satisfying. "Sorry, Elizabeth."
Then the jumper was through the event horizon and gone. When the 'gate shut down, she leaned forward until her forehead nearly touched the rail, getting her frustration under control as quickly as possible. She didn't need to check with Ronon's guards to know that he must have gone with John in search of Rodney. The surge of disbelief and anger that resulted from her military advisor's defiance-again-was soon quelled by the fatalistic realization that their actions would result in little risk at this point, except to themselves. If they stirred the Wraith nest now, it would be too late to make any difference. The water would soon be on top of them all.
Rodney scuttled backward on the bed, pressing himself as far into the corner as possible. When nothing grabbed him, his analytical side started to catch up to his paranoid side. This wasn't the Wraith's style. He'd heard his teammates' descriptions of hive ship decor many times, and they'd all tended towards the same creepedout slimy places like that hellish supply ship Gall had died in rather than comfortable, clean-sheeted beds.
And no Wraith would have hands as soft and gentle as Turpi's. Then again, if she could get into his mind, what was to stop her from affecting the way he perceived her touch? Could a Wraith project thoughts that detailed?
His vision would have been singularly useful right about now. Still, for the first time in what seemed like ages, the fog had entirely cleared from his head. All he felt, besides his own wariness, was a sense of overwhelming regret from Turpi.
"So, just for the record," he said, hoping to convey an air of composure. "Not Wraith, right?"
"No!" She sounded distressed, but Rodney was too emotionally whiplashed to have much sympathy. "I did not mean to frighten you. We use the beam because it is the only way to gather and protect the children. And I... I must also calm their stricken minds. They must be prevented from hurting themselves or others until they learn to control their abilities "
At her explanation, he began to understand just what it was the villagers saw as madness. These kids weren't going after their parents with kitchen knives or bringing guns to school. With uncontrolled telepathic and healing powers, they could likely stop a person's heart just by wishing it.
Damn it, that was going to prompt a whole new phobia- and he still hadn't gotten over the previous scare. "How do I know you're not manipulating me now?" he demanded, unwilling to give up the emotional walls that had been his mainstay since kindergarten.
"I am not."
"Well, forgive me for being a tiny bit cautious, but that's what you said the last time. If you can plant an image in my head, how am I ever supposed to know what's real and what isn't? This is my mind we're talking about here! This is the one thing that no one, absolutely no one should ever mess with!"
She gave no answer.
"Hello? Isn't it impolite to give a blind person the silent treatment?"
"She has left," Nabu's resonant voice replied. "Turpi's empathic ability is exceptionally strong. She sees that you do not trust her. It affects her deeply."
Paying attention to nuance in much of anything had never been one of Rodney's priorities. But with at least two of his five senses compromised, he found himself listening more carefully. Nabu's tone was solemn and held no trace of malice. Rodney was also certain-perhaps because Turpi had left the room-that he and he alone was occupying his head. He felt an unfamiliar twinge of guilt for having lashed out at her.
Something soft landed on his legs. "I have brought clothing," said Nabu. "If you will permit me to help you dress, we can walk for a while."
"Uh, thanks" Cautiously, Rodney moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Where will Turpi go?"
"To the children. They have been asking for her for some time, but she has been devoted to your recovery."
Way to rub it in, thanks. He'd acted like a jerk, and he knew it. Since these people could read minds, they no doubt knew that it was hardly the first time. He felt the soft fabric of a shirt being pulled over his head, and lifted his arms to facilitate the inevitable awkwardness with the sleeves.
"All the children adore Turpi," Nabu continued, a note of paternal pride in his voice. "She senses and soothes their torment from the moment they arrive. She is the only mother many of them have ever known."
Loose pants were slipped over one foot and then the other. Rodney ignored the flush of embarrassment that resulted from being dressed like a toddler and rose tentatively from the bed. To his relief, his legs supported him without complaint, and his bare feet felt considerably more intact than his hands. For the first time, he was inclined to feel some appreciation for military-issue boots.
Now what? Before he could ask, a large hand closed around his elbow. "I will guide you. Keep your steps small."
The material underfoot was cool, and its texture felt like stonework or perhaps slate tiling. It occurred to Rodney that he ought to be counting steps and memorizing turns, in case an escape became necessary later. He suspected that the half-baked notion stemmed from too many action-movie nights and too many outings with Sheppard and his merry Marines. The whole walking thing wasn't nearly as easy as it looked, and he was r
eady to give up before they'd gone more than fifty feet.
Then he heard something unexpected, and the numbers he'd so carefully fixed in his mind went up in smoke. "Is that-?"
"The children are playing," Nabu confirmed. Peals of laughter echoed all around what must have been an open expanse of land. It wouldn't have been Rodney's preferred backdrop, but just then it sounded very normal and reassuring. Whatever else he knew about the Wraith, they were not, and could never be, as innocent as those young voices.
A moment passed before he realized that he wasn't walking on sand but a spongy grass-like surface. The sun on his face felt warm, but not in the parched, stifling way he remembered. The air held some moisture here, and he heard the rustle of leaves and-was that a bird? "This can't possibly still be Polrusso," he stated, almost daring Nabu to claim otherwise.
"Your surprise is understandable." Nabu guided his arm to the side until it bumped against something. "That is the arm of a chair. Please, sit."
Rodney did as suggested, and the odd echo of the children's voices gave him his answer. "We're not outside, are we?"
"No, we are not "
The whisper of Nabu's clothes and the soft creak of a chair announced that the other man presumably had sat down. "This is an enclosed habitat," Nabu continued, "protected from the sand. In this place, samples of plants and animals are stored from a biotic bank which will be used when the terraforming of Polrusso is complete."
"So you know about the Ancients' terraforming plans as well." Rodney had a number of questions on that front, but he found himself fascinated by the very idea of the garden. His hearing had definitely improved, because he could clearly distinguish different bird sounds-judging by the flapping of wings they had to be birds-and something that might have been insects or frogs. Frogs? Which meant pools and running water someplace. "This is a sustainable ecosystem, all by itself?"
"We are careful to maintain its balance, and it has benefited us in many ways."
An imperceptible shift in the atmosphere signaled to Rodney that someone else had approached them. Feeling a familiar sense of hesitation, he asked, "Turpi?"
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