The Chosen

Chapter Twenty-two

Several hours exploring the Enclave had revealed nothing except the degree of hatred the Daleran rebels had had for the Chosen. So much anger directed — indeed, misdirected — against something other than the Wraith bothered Teyla deeply.

Walking back to the transport with her, Lieutenant Ford seemed pensive and withdrawn. When she inquired as to what disturbed him so much, he replied, “A second team will be coming through the ‘gate tonight, and we still have no way of warning them. Dammit!” He kicked at the remains of what had once been a fine floor mosaic. A few tiny tiles skittered across the ground. The color of the ceramic reminded Teyla of something.

Back inside the transport, she crouched before the recessed panel. In all, there were three buttons, one of which was a bright aquamarine. “Peryn, which of these did you use to bring us here?”

He stepped inside and pointed to the navy button. Teyla recalled that the Major had used the yellow button to reveal the panel displaying the Citadel’s transport map.

“What is it?” Lieutenant Ford asked.

Examining the transport map again, Teyla realized that no light existed to represent the transport room where they were currently standing. Pointing to the third, aquamarine button, she said, “I believe we should attempt to see what this reveals.”

“You sure?” The Lieutenant’s voice betrayed his uncertainty. “We could end up in another Wraith ambush.”

“I do not believe so. Peryn?”

Ford shrugged, but readied his weapon in preparation. The boy’s touch revealed a new wall panel — which folded back to expose a second, previously unseen map of the Citadel. The lights indicated that a secondary transport system existed, one that had been kept hidden from all but the Chosen.

Lowering his P-90, Lieutenant Ford ran his finger around the sequence of lights. “The Stations!” he declared.

“I believe you are correct.”

“Y’ know, I’d wondered about that. Didn’t make a whole lot of sense that the Chosen had to walk all the way to a Sanctuary Hall just to operate a transport, especially in the middle of a Wraith attack.”

“Two lights exist here in the Enclave, side by side,” Teyla observed. “This would indicate that an additional transport must exit nearby.”

“Or on different levels?”

“Perhaps.” She nodded when Peryn looked at her for permission. When the boy touched the second light, the transport doors folded shut, and immediately opened into a small room. Teyla lifted her weapon at the same instant as Lieutenant Ford. Two Wraith Queens stared at them.

Rodney wasn’t confident that he’d be able to hit anything with his gun, but under the current circumstances — namely, another occurrence of all-but-certain death — it seemed prudent to make an attempt. He scrambled to withdraw the sidearm from its holster and bring it to bear on the transport.

When the doors opened, it took him a moment to comprehend just what he was seeing. Ford stepped out of the transport with his P-90 aimed, Teyla following behind with Peryn. As they stood in the Sanctuary Hall, whole and unhurt and defying all bounds of logic, Rodney felt his knees give just a bit before he locked them. Likewise, if his eyes were suddenly stinging, it had to be a consequence of the remaining smoke. This changed… well, it changed everything.

The motion of the doors galvanized him into action. “Don’t let them shut!” he shouted, darting forward. “The next time it shows up, it could be full of Wraith.”

Instantly understanding, Peryn ducked back to the panel and halted the mechanism. Ford and Teyla barely had time to step away before the children swarmed past and mobbed Peryn, their shouts of joy mingling together.

“Good to see you on your feet again, Major.” Ford approached his commanding officer with a broad grin and a hand extended.

Sheppard shook it firmly and clapped the Lieutenant on the back, his weapon forgotten at his side. “Not half as good as it is to see the two of you.” His voice was rough, and Rodney imagined he could see a telltale brightness in the other man’s eyes. Then again, the Major had been pretty glassy-eyed for a while now.

“Gotta say, though, sir, you’re not looking so great.”

“Everybody’s a critic.” Sheppard deflected the comment. “Let’s have a sit rep, Lieutenant.”

“Starting with how you managed to escape the explosion at North Bridge,” Rodney put in, still trying to recover his composure.

“Yeah, that was close. We’re lucky Peryn’s quick on the trigger, or we wouldn’t have transported out in time. It was bizarre. Somehow all the oil backed up through the fountains or something…” Ford seemed to have picked up Rodney’s discomfort, because he pulled back with a suspicious glare. “You were actually trying to drown us in oil, weren’t you?”

“Surely you can understand that we might have had more reason to expect the Wraith to be in that transport rather than you.” A rapid shift in emotional states seemed to be an obligatory part of battlefield operations. Falling back onto his natural defensiveness, then, seemed the most prudent course of action to Rodney.

“Peryn then took us into what remains of the Enclave,” Teyla continued. “It appears that there are two separate systems of transports, one of which was kept secret from all but the Chosen. When we used this hidden transport, we found…something of great interest.”

“It looks sorta like some weird Ancient technology, sir,” Ford broke in.

Rodney felt his face go slack. Defensiveness immediately shifted into aggression. “Again with the information that should have been presented earlier.” Striding toward the transport, he was soon caught up in a throng of refugees, swarming around him in desperation. Hands grabbed at him, causing him to wonder if they were purposely trying to drive him into additional therapy.

“We must leave!” one cried. “The rivers burn. All around the Citadel is fire!”

The thick black smoke seemed to bear that statement out. It blocked much of the sunlight outside and began to roll into the Sanctuary Hall through the smashed windows.

“The Wraith are everywhere!” another voice wailed. “There is no place safe.”

“The safest thing you can do right now is stay put!” Sheppard called back. “Or at least it will be once I take a look at this device.” He reached out to grip a warrior’s arm. “All of you need to stay here and fight off any Wraith that come through the transport.”

The trainee warriors shared looks of disbelief and dismay. “You would leave us now, when we are most in need?” one demanded. Murmurs of “typical Chosen” reached Rodney’s ears.

“I’m not running,” Sheppard protested. “Dalera’s weapon is our best hope of beating the Wraith, and I’m telling you I can make it work.”

You hope, Rodney didn’t add. There were a lot of uncertainties built into that assertion, not the least of which was the hope that they had been able to get sufficient Genes to man the Stations.

The Hall tumbled into bedlam. Refugees began to push and shove, frantic to pack into the transport. Beside Rodney, people were starting to crush against the children, trying to force them out. Someone was going to get trampled very soon if this wasn’t stopped. Peryn and Yann were yelling at everyone to calm down, but it was useless. Sheppard glanced over at Teyla and tapped his P-90. She nodded, resigned, and he fired a short burst over the crowd’s heads into the far wall. The Major’s features immediately twisted into a grimace. Obviously he hadn’t considered the effect of the gun’s loud report on a concussion. The desired effect was achieved, however, as the shouting halted.

“The room’s not big enough for all these people to cram in,” Ford said. “And I don’t think it would be such a great idea, anyway, given what else we found in there.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that statement, Lieutenant?” Rodney snapped.

Ford glanced around. “I don’t think so. Let’s just say you’re going to have to see it to believe it.”

“We will transport everyone to the upper level of the Enclave.” Teyla raised her voice for all to hear, and once again Rodney understood why she was the leader of her people. “You will be safe there. I will stay with you.”

“So will I,” put in Peryn.

“Major Sheppard will operate Dalera’s Weapon, and the Wraith will fall. Do not abandon your resolve now, after so much has been sacrificed for your survival.”

“She speaks true.” Yann stepped next to Teyla. “I will return in the transport, and I will not leave it until all of you have a place in the Enclave. The Genes have risked their lives this past day transporting you and your families from the outlying villages. Remember that, and know that as one of that number, I will not betray your trust.”

Their assurances calmed everyone down enough for the doors to close, and Rodney had to admit that it sounded good. He understood with agonizing clarity that nowhere in the Citadel would be safe. But these people had lived all their lives with a perception of the Enclave as a fortress of strength, always protected. That, if nothing else, had to give them some comfort.

A new thought occurred to him, and he began to comprehend just what had been at stake when the Chosen had made the awful choice to leave villagers to the Wraith rather than risk being captured themselves. It hadn’t been an act of cowardice or superiority, but instead the only way of protecting the Enclave, and by extension the heart of their defensive system and their weapon. It was yet one more apology he might have made for his earlier assumptions, but, as with so much about this situation, it would come far too late.

The first group of refugees poured out of the transport and into the gutted ruins. Through crumbling walls and broken windowpanes, a ring of fire and black smoke was visible around the Citadel. Although in places the smoke wasn’t terribly high, corresponding to the level of oil in that quadrant, the conflagration at Black Hill was immense and almost mesmeric. Due to the elevation of the plateau where the Enclave temple had once stood, the air was much clearer, but Rodney knew that wouldn’t last for long. A dark smudge in the sky caught his gaze, and he tried not to think too hard about the possibility that it was a group of Darts amassing for some kind of coordinated run.

“Getting rid of the Wraith isn’t going to solve the oil problem,” Ford commented, stepping out of the transport and over a blackened beam.

Would he never learn? “Thank you for once again illuminating the patently obvious, Lieutenant. One problem at a time if you don’t mind.”

The Marine ignored him and turned to Sheppard. “Knock ‘em dead, sir.”

“That’s the plan,” replied the Major. “See you back here when it’s over.”

The transport had finally emptied, leaving only Rodney along with Sheppard, Teyla and the children. The little girl who’d seemingly been tailing Rodney for hours had somehow managed to attach one small, sticky hand to his. He didn’t bother trying to extricate himself before pressing the button that Teyla indicated. The doors shut and re-opened again — and never in his life had he been so taken aback. He fumbled for his weapon, but the child clinging to him joined in the chorus of terrified screams and welded herself to his legs.

“It is all right,” Teyla declared, exiting the transport ahead of Sheppard. “They cannot harm you.” She smiled reassuringly at the children and walked across to the transparent stasis chambers embedded in one wall. “I believe they are in a form of hibernation.”

Extracating himself from the cluster of limbs, Rodney joined Teyla and Sheppard staring with a mixture of repugnance and fascination at the naked Wraith curled into fetal positions. Noting the framework surrounding the Wraith’s heads, and recalling the little he’d gleaned about Dalera’s experiments, he immediately assessed the situation. “Oh…my. Oh, wow! This is amazing. Do you realize what this is?” But there was little time to admire Dalera’s handiwork. If his theory was correct, the power grid would only work if all of the Genes maintained their positions — and with choking, oily smoke rolling in, that wouldn’t be for long, assuming that they were all manned in the first place.

“The reason why the Wraith are hell bent on breaking into the Citadel?” Sheppard made no effort to disguise his shock. “I thought you said this was a weapon?”

The children were wandering around the room with their mouths agape. “Don’t touch anything.” Rodney pulled off his pack, lowered it to the ground, and scanned what looked to be a patchwork of consoles made up from several different types of technology. While some of it was decidedly Ancient in origin, much was unfamiliar to him. “Dalera experimented with a neural interface for a weapon. I had assumed it was something like the weapons chair. Apparently not.”

Sheppard turned to him. “Didn’t you say that it was unsuccessful?”

“In her colleagues’ opinion, yes, but I’m wondering if her banishment really was due to her choice in husbands, or—”

“The nature of her experiments.” Sheppard turned his attention back to the Queens.

Nodding curtly, Rodney added, “Once exiled, Dalera wouldn’t have had access to much in the way of technology. Instead, she cobbled together whatever she could find — including control panels from…I don’t know.” He examined the consoles again. “Wraith ships, perhaps.”

“They don’t look ten thousand years old.” Sheppard studied the Wraith uncertainly. “And they’re kind of small — younger than the last Queen I met. I gotta say, the whole eyes-open thing is a little on the freaky side.”

“Being in stasis,” Rodney muttered, searching for a familiar point of reference, “theoretically they should age, but at a vastly decelerated rate.” Rubbing his forehead in frustration, he snapped, “I’m never going to be able to get this operational. I can’t even use my instruments to create an interface…Wait. Here’s something.”

He flipped open a panel similar to the one that Kesun had used to display charts of the planet’s land mass. Instead of maps, though, the information offered a tantalizing insight into the weapon’s plan. It vindicated his theory that the Stations were vital hubs in a kind of circuit board that powered a weapon, in addition to providing a defensive strategy. It also indicated something that looked like—

Realization hit Rodney with almost painful force. That was why her colleagues had dismissed the experiments as a failure. But Dalera had continued with them nonetheless. “That’s why the Wraith are attacking!” He turned to Sheppard. “What role do queen bees play a hive?”

“They make lots of baby bees?”

“Yes, of course, Major, but more importantly they control the activity of every bee in the hive.” Now that Rodney understood what was going on, it was hard to keep his words from tumbling over each other. “These weren’t Queens when they were placed in these chambers. They were larvae, babies, whatever you call these things when they’re young. Dalera incorporated them as a biological component to a weapons’ system, but—”

“In the years hence, they grew into adults.” Teyla turned to face him, a less than thrilled expression on her face.

“The determination of the Wraith attack and their unwillingness to bomb this Citadel would indicate that their offensive is considerably more than a mere culling. Instead of mounting the intended defense, these two—” Rodney rapped a knuckle against the hood of one of the stasis chambers. “—are most likely using the Wraith equivalent of pheromones to drive the attack, but in such a way that will ensure their retrieval.”

“Well, there’s one solution to that.” The Major stepped back, raised his weapon and, cringing against the anticipated shock, aimed it at the stasis chambers.

“Would you just hold on a moment?” Rodney shouted. “Not every solution comes at the end of a gun.” He felt a momentary twinge of guilt when Sheppard winced. The Major really did not look good. And unless he found a solution to this further problem that the vaunted Dalera had failed to foresee, none of them would fare too well when the Wraith burst in here to rescue their Queens-in-waiting.

“Move back!” Aiden ordered, ushering people away from the entrance of the transport. “We need the space to get everyone in the next group out of the transport as quickly as possible.”

The Dalerans were reluctant to shift their positions near the doors. Parents grasped children, terrified of losing them in the crowd, while many of the elderly stared at their surroundings with tears in their eyes. In the distance, a squadron of Darts had set up a holding pattern, obviously hovering just outside the edge of the Shields’ influence. They were like vultures, waiting to strike as soon as the Dalerans were forced to evacuate the Citadel.

Aiden turned to pose a question to Yann, Peryn having returned in the transport for the next group, but it was answered by the wails of the villagers.

“The sacred Enclave is destroyed,” sobbed a woman near his elbow. “Our last sanctuary offers nothing but false hope.”

“Surely we are lost now,” cried another. “Who could have done this?”

“Who is responsible for burning the Enclave?”

Aiden stared at them. They’d wanted to save these people, from oppression and from the Wraith, but had they ever had a chance at saving them from themselves?

“This was but one building, the temple,” Yann reminded them as he went back inside the transport to retrieve the next lot. “The heart of the Enclave, Dalera’s weapon, remains untouched. With the help of all the Genes, you will be protected.”

The transport doors closed, and Aiden’s thoughts turned to Lisera, still at her post in the Station. The smoke was most likely closing in—

Hearing a noise nearby, he spun around, bringing his P-90 to bear. A short distance away, the remains of a fountain toppled to one side, and an area about the size of a manhole opened up. Elsewhere, timbers creaked and glass shifted as more holes began opening up. People scuttled away, screaming, “Wraith! The Wraith are here!” And this time, they weren’t jumping at shadows.

It was the childish giggle that alerted Rodney. It was so unexpected that he glanced around. The children were huddled together in the shadows on the other side of the room, about as far from the Wraith as anyone could possibly get. He didn’t much blame them. So what did they find so hilarious?

“It feels funny,” the little girl supplied.

Even in the darkness, Rodney could see that she had inserted her hand in something. “I thought I told you not to touch anything!” he admonished, striding across to them. But when he saw what she was touching, instead of batting her hand away, for a brief, insane moment he considered adopting the child. “Major!”

The children parted to let Sheppard through. He immediately placed his hand against the same rubbery control device that normally existed on an Ancient chair. Nothing happened. Before Rodney could so instruct him, the Major stepped into the stasis chamber and leaned back.

The resulting hum sounded almost like a sigh, as if the system were somehow grateful to have been awakened. A blue glow lit the entire room, eliciting gasps of wonder from the children. The little girl who had previously appropriated Rodney’s hand seemed oblivious to their rapidly approaching doom. “It is very beautiful.”

Rodney didn’t see anything particularly beautiful about a piece of technology. All it had done so far was turn itself on. If the blasted thing performed as he hoped, then he’d consider viewing it more poetically. “Major, think about where we are in the solar system,” he instructed. “Rapidly.”

“How would I know the first thing about where we are in this solar system?”

Even as he spoke, however, an image appeared overhead. Rather than a diagram of space, it was instead a map of the planet. The murmurs, punctuated by several ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ from the kids, grew louder. Rodney was fairly amazed himself, and unlike them, he’d seen this kind of thing before.

Two large blips appeared on the projected image. Wraith hive ships, almost certainly. Thousands of smaller blips winked into existence — Darts, no doubt — and buzzed around the larger blips like gnats.

“I’m thinking about shooting them down,” Sheppard said in a hopeful voice. Silence stretched as everyone watched the projection for any change.

“Nothing’s happening.” Rodney felt his pulse accelerate. “Maybe it’s the concussion — maybe you bashed in whatever neurological centers this thing taps into.”

“Or maybe I’ve used up my allocated brain power for the day,” Sheppard shot back.

“Major, your propensity for snarking at inopportune moments—”

“Rodney, unless you want to try this yourself, shut the hell up.”

They’d found the weapon and activated it. Surely that would be enough. Wouldn’t it? How much more could Dalera ask of them? Come on, come on… “The interface!” he blurted, and scrambled around the console for a piece of curved ceramic that he’d seen earlier. Snatching it up and thrusting it into Sheppard’s free hand, he ordered, “Put it on!”

Sheppard turned the ceramic over. It was identical to the skull caps worn by the Wraith. His gaze slid from his teammate to the Queens, then back to Rodney. He didn’t need to voice his concern. This contraption could very well link his mind in some way to the Wraith. But as usual, they were out of options. Jamming the thing on his head, he said, “This is Wraith tech, right? I’m gonna try something a little different.”

Choking back his panicked impatience, Rodney watched as the scene playing over Sheppard’s head changed to a three-dimensional map of the Citadel and surrounding countryside.

Behind them, the transport doors opened and a wild-eyed Peryn staggered to the entrance, but did not step out. “The Wraith have invaded the Enclave. Lieutenant Ford…ordered me to tell you.”

Teyla ran to him and caught him in her arms before he fell to the floor.

“Don’t let that transport recycle or we’re all dead!” Rodney directed his order at Teyla, but then his eyes fell to the Shield on Peryn’s belt. It had stopped glowing. Swinging around, Rodney saw that Sheppard’s had also ceased to glow. Desperately, he grabbed his own methodically accumulated collection of Shields. “No, no, no no! This can’t be happening!” Every one of the Shields had turned black.

“Wraithlight! Wraithlight!” people screamed.

“What the…?” Aiden looked up and saw hundreds of Darts crossing what he had thought of as the no-fly zone. Glancing at the Gene beside him, he noticed that the man’s Shield had gone black. The momentary surge of panic that hit Aiden was brief, but it was just long enough to allow the Wraith he’d been pumping bullets into to reach him. Next thing he knew, he was on the ground and the Wraith was standing over him with its hand upraised.

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Rodney felt his knees give way. He clasped the edge of the console, swallowing against his suddenly dry mouth. This time they were dead, no question about it. The little girl squealed and ran into the transport, trying to hide behind Peryn. Several of the other children followed — until Teyla slowly stood and walked toward him, her eyes fastened to a point over Sheppard’s head.

Rodney turned and looked up at the hologram. The images of dozens of frighteningly familiar lights shot out of multiple locations around the Enclave.

The expected impact of the hand on Aiden’s chest never came. Abruptly the Wraith vanished in a liquid blue beam.

Around him, the sounds of the battle ceased and everything went strangely quiet. He picked himself up, grabbed his weapon, which had been knocked out of his hand, and looked around the Enclave. The Wraith were gone. He staggered across to the upended fountain where most of the creatures had been pouring out, and looked down. All he could see was the remains of plumbing. There was no sign of the Wraith anywhere. The Major had done…Aiden wasn’t entirely certain what he’d done, but he turned to the group with a yell of triumph. “It’s Dalera’s weapon. Major Sheppard is using it to attack the Wraith!”

Just at that moment, the transport doors opened and a second group came rushing out. But then they paused and, along with the first bunch of refugees who had been fighting off the Wraith, looked skyward.

Yann stepped out behind them and came across to Aiden. Like everyone who stood amid the ruins of the once elegant temple, the Gene watched in awe as the watery blue beams streaked across the sky, cutting through the squadrons of Wraith Darts — which began falling from the sky. Even through the thickening black smoke of the oil fires, they caught sight of balls of fire where the craft hit the ground.

“How can this be?” breathed a villager. “Who does this?”

“We do!” Yann shouted, jabbing a victorious fist into the air. “Our brothers and sisters hold the power of Dalera’s Weapon now. By joining together we have made ourselves worthy of her glory and driven the Wraith from our world!”

Cheers swept through the crowd. The warriors congratulated each other and mingled with the townspeople, reveling in the moment. Yann slapped Aiden on the back, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process. For the first time since Aiden had set foot on the planet, he heard the sound of Daleran laughter.

“Finally,” he said under his breath. Finally, these people believed they had a future.

In the weapon room, the din of celebrating young voices was piercing. Rodney cringed, sure that the noise wasn’t doing the Major’s headache any favors. “All right, enough already,” he snapped, locking his fear back up behind a familiar veneer of annoyance. “Imminent doom averted and all that. Next.”

His relief was so strong it hurt, and the best way to conceal that was to move briskly on to the next problem. They’d won the battle, but the unchecked oil fire was likely to make the Citadel and nearby countryside — possibly even the entire planet — unfit for life. Nor was there any guarantee that the hive ships wouldn’t wait around and send in more Darts as soon as evacuations began. Yet another unanswerable question he’d inevitably be required to answer.

Rodney opened his mouth to instruct the Major to explore any other functions the device might have — and stopped mid-thought when the activation lights died out. Whether through the departure of one of the Genes or through some malfunction in the device, the grid had failed. He resisted the urge to kick something — could they not get a break for once?

Without a word, Sheppard dropped his hand and opened his eyes. At the same time a distant explosion made itself known. Even from inside the room, they could feel a tremor. Rodney stared at Sheppard. “What did you do?”

Sheppard merely returned his gaze. “What’s the one way you can extinguish an oil fire?”

Another wave of relief washed over him, and once again Rodney was surprised and impressed by the pilot’s resourcefulness. “Nice work.”

“A guy’s gotta make himself useful.”

Oddly enough, Sheppard’s shield turned aquamarine. Rodney glanced down at his own and noted that they had begun to glow. Of course. He should have realized sooner. “The Shields went temporarily inactive because the device doesn’t allow you to defend and attack simultaneously.”

“That’s how it works on the Enterprise, so it seemed worth a try.” Stepping out of the chamber, Sheppard stumbled, listing to one side. Rodney instinctively reached out to steady him. “It’s okay. I’m good.” The Major tried to smile, but seemed to recognize that he wasn’t fooling anyone.

For Sheppard’s sake, the sooner they got back to Atlantis, the better. Unfortunately, there was still the minor matter of the hive ships in orbit around the planet.

Rodney took one last look around before stepping into the transport. The Wraith that had been swept up in the reconfigured beams had to have been transported somewhere. And then there was the issue of leaving two Wraith Queens behind—

— which was suddenly was no longer an issue. Features tightened against the pain, Sheppard was standing at the door of the transport, unleashing a hail of bullets into the stasis chambers.

When the clip was finally empty, Rodney batted away at the cordite-smelling smoke. “Was that really wise?”

Turning back toward him, Sheppard said simply, “Yes.” The grim look on the Major’s face told Rodney a great deal more. It had also answered his question of whether the device had brought him into contact with the minds of the immature Queens.

Swallowing again, this time against a momentary surge of nausea, Rodney nodded to Peryn, signaling it was time to leave.

Somewhere between the weapon room and Nemst, they’d managed to lose most of their entourage, while acquiring Ford and Teyla. John wasn’t entirely certain what they were doing in the village. Something about Teyla needing to be outside the influence of the Shielded Citadel to sense whether or not the Wraith had departed. It sounded like it would have made sense had his brain not been fairly scrambled.

When the doors to the transport opened, it was to a scene of devastation. The roof of the inn had collapsed, and they could see outside to the sky, now more or less free of the ubiquitous oily smoke. A large group of people, mostly men that John recognized as residents of Nemst, were surveying the area and looking mighty unhappy. He didn’t recall suggesting that anyone could safely leave the Citadel, but then, just staying upright was enough of a challenge for him at the moment. Having extra eyes and weapons around the place was probably a good idea in case they ran into any Wraith he hadn’t managed to scoop up with Dalera’s nifty anti-Wraith beam.

“The Wraith,” Teyla stated, her voice edged with a familiar bitterness. “They have retaliated by destroying much of the town.”

Rodney opened his mouth to correct that misconception, but seemed to think better of it. Which was fortunate. Concussed or not, John knew the makings of a lynch mob when he saw one, and he’d already had a taste of Daleran ‘gratitude’.

They climbed over more wreckage until they were standing in what had once been the inn’s entrance. “This is the way of the Wraith. Even when they are able to cull most of a population, they destroy much that remains behind.” The Athosian was directing her speech to the citizens of Nemst. Her stance and the quick look she sent John told him exactly what he needed to know. The Wraith had left. Even in his admittedly addled state, he understood what the Athosian was now trying to achieve.

Outside the inn they found a sight familiar to John. The men with them reacted with astonishment and anger. One of them released a cry of despair. “The wheel! The waterwheel that has stood for countless generations — it’s gone!”

Someone else began talking about the forge, and all too soon, the murmurs began turning to blame. “The Wraith destroyed our village because of the blackwater.”

“Why should we have to bear this burden alone?”

“Who will rebuild our beautiful forge?”

Beautiful forge? John ran an unsteady hand across his eyes. He was about to snap out a reply, but Yann beat him to it. “Thank Dalera that you still live to see and speak of such things. When the Wraith have departed, we will rebuild.” He strode out purposefully behind Ford as they made their way across the splintered wreckage to the impressive crater that had replaced most of the hill.

The bitter complaints and recriminations dropped to muttered whispers. Yeah, there was no getting around it. This place was going to face some serious social and political fallout.

“I do not believe Major Sheppard is well,” Teyla said softly. “Try telling him that.” Aiden used his binoculars to look out across the Citadel. When one of the blue beams had targeted a squadron of Darts heading west toward Nemst, Aiden hadn’t been entirely certain what to expect. But the Major had apparently taken a page out of Red Adair’s book. By using the beam to remove their Wraith pilots at just the right moment, the uncontrolled Darts had plunged into Black Hill. The massive explosion had starved the raging oil fire of oxygen just long enough for the flames to be extinguished. True, a few of the Darts had overshot their mark and crashed into Nemst, but when the bulk of the hill had collapsed its center, it had cut off the flow of oil. With nothing to feed it, the fire around the Citadel also was rapidly dying down. Although the resultant haze would provide a spectacular sunset, the strong afternoon west wind had blown the worst of the smoke away.

Teyla sighed. “Were I in his position, I would be much the same.” Aiden met her eyes, and she added, “As would you.”

Shrugging, he replied, “As long as we don’t have to go one-on-one with any Wraith who might have been left behind, he should be okay, but we really need to get him back to Atlantis.”

“The Wraith departed soon after the Major unleashed the weapon. None remain. Of that I am now certain.”

“And that’s a perfect end to a perfect day.” McKay turned back from the edge of the cliff, where everyone else was gathered, and strode across to the two of them. It hadn’t taken the scientist long to regain his typical bluster. “The oil flow has stopped, all right. Which of course was the desired outcome, but only if the Wraith don’t come back.”

“No!” came the forceful voice of one of the Nemst townsfolk. The guy marched up to the Major and waved a threatening finger under his nose. “It is your fault that our magnificent town is in ruins. You will not now bring the full force of the Wraith down upon us—”

“And steal our livelihood,” another injected.

“—by destroying what little remains of Black Hill!” finished the first man.

McKay gestured in the direction of the men. “As I was about to explain.”

Aiden moved the same instant as Teyla. Letting the Dalerans think that the Wraith had blown up Nemst seemed the wisest course of action. The Major was in no shape to be fielding an argument.

“Do you deny that releasing the blackwater onto the river defended the Citadel against the Wraith?” Yann yelled back just as loudly.

“The Citadel, yes. But what of our home?”

“It was the will of Dalera that the Citadel be your place of refuge during a Wraith culling,” Teyla began. “Never in all my travels have I seen a world untouched by the Wraith. They destroy what humans have built in order to stop us from finding ways to defeat them. What you call Wraithcraft—” She paused and shook her head.

“What you call Wraithcraft,” McKay continued, “interferes with the operation of the Shields. But in and of itself, it isn’t bad. For the most part, it isn’t even designed by the Wraith, but they’d prefer you to remain ignorant of it in order to prevent you from developing a functioning civilization.”

“Dalera offers a truly fortunate defense,” Teyla interjected. “For as long as you work together and use the Shields, you will always have the power to fend off the worst Wraith depravations.”

“Then the Citadel must pay us for the blackwater you used.” The man’s glare moved from Teyla and Yann to McKay. “But you will not steal from us any further.” He crossed his arms belligerently. “You will not destroy the cliff holding back the last of our blackwater.”

“So,” Major Sheppard replied with a weary expression. “Where would you like us to take you when the Wraith resume their attack? East wall, maybe? Or would you rather just stay here sitting on your hoard of black gold?”

The Nemst townsfolk looked unsure. “What of Dalera’s Weapon?”

“The things specifically used to power it…died.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s noticed,” McKay said, staring out across the countryside. “But I can’t see any sign of the Wraith. Y’ know?” A confident smile crossed his face, and he eyed his collection of now dull Shields. “I think we really did make them turn tail and leave. It may not be necessary to blow up the remains of the cliff after all.”

Aiden clamped his jaw shut. Just once, couldn’t the scientist get with the program and see what was happening around him? Another few minutes and the townspeople might have been forced to concede that to survive the Wraith in the long term, they had to follow Dalera’s plan to protect the Citadel. And that meant working together and being willing to employ every resource they had, including their oil. Sure, it was great that they wouldn’t have to use it now, but right at this moment, that wasn’t the point.

Teyla, too, pursed her lips, while Sheppard just shot McKay an incredulous look. “Thank you, Rodney.”

The scientist’s supercilious smirk faded into uncertainty. “Well, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes,” Teyla replied, her biting tone leaving no room for doubt. “Truly wonderful.”

“What do you think?” The Major turned to Teyla. “Are they likely to be hanging around?” He’d obviously abandoned the attempt to get the townsfolk to consider anything other than themselves.

The golden light from the afternoon sun failed to take the edge off Teyla’s tightly drawn features. Still glaring at McKay, she replied, “The Wraith do not linger when they are finished, but travel swiftly to the next world. I believe Dalera will be safe once more — until the next culling generations from now.”

“You know,” McKay said. “I stood on this same spot the night before last, watching the Wraith Darts zooming around like they owned the place.”

“Which they did,” Teyla reminded him.

“Oh, I don’t know.” McKay seemed suddenly aware of the resentful Nemst townsfolk. “While you were all safe and snug inside the Citadel, your engineers didn’t hesitate to put their lives on the line implementing my plan.”

“And where are those men now?” snapped the guy who’d been doing all the complaining. “One of them was my cousin, and he has not returned.” His eyes narrowed and turned cunning. “Why is it that you alone survived?”

McKay took a step back. “Hey! That’s not true. What about the rest of the team who readjusted the length of boom across the channel? They’re still around… Aren’t they?”

“Indeed they are,” Yann interceded. “Your cousin assists in the rebuilding of the East wall. Come, I will take you to him.”

“What need do we have of this wall now that the Wraith have left? We need the men back here, to rebuild Nemst!”

“And who will provide the necessary payment for this rebuilding?”

The argument continued on the walk to the inn, and Aiden let out a soft sigh.

McKay waited until the Dalerans were out of earshot before saying, “Although those crashed Darts successfully collapsed most of the hill, the bottom of the cliff where Ford and I inserted the C-4 is still intact. I set the charges to go off remotely, but unless I detonate it soon, the flow won’t nearly be sufficient to sustain the blaze.”

“I do not think it will be necessary,” Teyla said.

“Seriously? You really, truly don’t think the Wraith will be coming back?”

“No,” Teyla replied in a barely civil voice. “I no longer sense their nearness.”

Visibly slumping in relief, McKay let out a long sigh. “Okay. Do you realize I haven’t eaten since—?”

“McKay!”

The scientist appeared taken back by the edge in the Major’s voice. “What?”

“Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but the good citizens of Dalera don’t appear to be tossing flowers at us, thanking us for saving their collective butts from the Wraith.”

Scratching his chin, McKay replied. “Yes, I had noticed some reticence in their attitude. I mean, the nerve of that guy, blaming me for surviving the death of…” His voice trailed off and he swallowed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should quietly make our exit stage left.”

With a shake of her head, Teyla turned and walked ahead of them.