The Inheritors

Chapter Eleven Preparing for the Worst

William Lynn closed the last of the storage cases and looked around the long narrow room he'd called his lab for the few months he'd been on Atlantis. It was stripped nearly bare, only a few cables and the spare laptop to remind him of what the room had become; now that it was returned to its Ancient form, he wondered again what it had originally been intended for. Beyond the long window, the sea was gray in the city's shadow, the sun sparking from the waves beyond its edges.

The word had come through at twenty-two hundred hours the night before: non-essential personnel were to prepare for evacuation starting at oh-eight-hundred, and archeology fell firmly into the non-essential category. Fortunately, fieldwork for the SGC taught one to be ready to run at a moment's notice, and none of his staff had lost the habit. They'd been ready by oh-one hundred hours, and now it was only the final boxes that had to be hauled to the gateroom, along with the last of the backup drives. They were all perched now on a little cart, not heavy and not even very awkward, just waiting to be taken away.

He turned again, surveying the empty room, and Miranda James looked up from the laptop.

"That's everything transferred, Doc."

"Thank you." He forced a smile. "You can shut it down, then."

"Right." She frowned as the screen went dark, then closed the lid with a final-sounding snick. "When are you scheduled to go through?"

"I don't have a time yet," William answered. "You?"

She glanced at her watch. "Eleven-fifty. Time for coffee, anyway. What are you doing about your stuff?"

"Leaving it, I suppose," William said. "I'd settled in, rather, and there's quite a lot to try to move."

"Yeah, me, too." She shook her head. "I don't know, it's not that I want to stay — I've done a Wraith invasion twice now, thank you very much! But I feel kind of guilty leaving."

"There's not much either of us can do that would be useful," William said. Sensible though he knew they were, the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't want to leave, he realized, and shoved the thought aside. He reached for his tablet and checked the screen. "The next step is to check in with Sergeant Pollard so he can put it into the transfer queue." So that everything moves through the Stargate as efficiently as possible, he thought, and every scrap of power is conserved for the coming battle.

"Want me to take care of that?" Miranda asked. "It looks like you've got plenty still to do."

"That'd be brilliant, thanks." William helped her push the cart through the door, and glanced back at the window as the door closed behind her. No, he didn't want to leave — somehow, in the middle of work and all the ordinary tasks of an SGC social scientist, he'd fallen for Pegasus, and for Atlantis. He stared blindly at the sunlit towers, seeing instead the ruins of Sateda, half rebuilt, smelling of wood smoke and mint-and-lemon tea. Even on this world, icy and barren, there were things still to be explored. He remembered Radek taking him down to the city's lowest levels, where unexpectedly the sea's black depths teemed with light, with life, a squid's tentacle mimicking a flashlight waved behind thick glass.

And yet, practically speaking, he was of no use to anyone. He wasn't a soldier and he wasn't a technician, and those were the skills needed now. And quite possibly he'd merely be in the way, a nuisance, though if he stayed in his quarters and did nothing, surely no one could object. It was only his own life he was risking….

He shook his head, and turned his back on the window. He would do what he had to do.

Radek found Dr. Keller briskly stacking boxes in cabinets in the infirmary and waited for a moment until she noticed him.

"Sorry, just trying to get the fragile stuff squared away in case we get shaken up in here," she said, wedging boxes into the back corner of a shelf tightly enough that they seemed unlikely to shift. "What can I do for you?"

"I would like you to give me the retrovirus," Radek said.

Jennifer put down the box in her hand and turned to face him. "You know that Mr. Woolsey recommended against distributing the retrovirus."

"He said it was optional for civilian personnel."

"It's really early in the testing process," Jennifer said. "Carson and I have made a couple of changes that we hope will eliminate the side effects I had, or at least make them much less serious. But we haven't had time to see if that works. I want to be very clear about the risks. You could go into convulsions. It's possible that you could die."

"I am willing to take the risk."

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

Radek shrugged. "I have been in Atlantis since the first year we were here. That was a very bad year." Faces rose unbidden in memory, friends withered into corpses. He had seen death before, but not like that, shocking and obscene and terrifying. He had thought, briefly, about returning to Earth once that was possible, where he would never have to watch that kind of death again.

He had decided that Atlantis was worth it, and never regretted it. But it was always a shadow underneath everything they did, the knowledge that one bad mission could mean returning to Atlantis in a bag, a shrunken thing to be buried in a closed coffin so his family would not see what he had become.

"The Wraith have killed so many of us," he went on, shaking off the memories. "I do not want to die that way. If there is fighting in the city, or God forbid if I am ever captured, I want to have every chance."

"You know that if you are captured, having the retrovirus could mean being trapped in the feeding cells… pretty much indefinitely."

"From which there is a chance of escape. From death, not so much so."

"I'm not arguing with that," Jennifer said. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

"I am sure."

"All right. If you're absolutely sure." She crossed to a different refrigerated cabinet and withdrew a small bottle, which she set on a tray as she began unwrapping a syringe. Her white coat was crisp, her hair drawn back in her usual tight ponytail, but there were dark circles under her eyes.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

She looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I heard about you and Rodney. I am sorry."

"Yes, well," Jennifer said. "I guess we just… aren't working out."

"He is a difficult man," Radek said. "I say this as his friend."

"He's not so bad," Jennifer said. "We just want different things, I guess. Eventually, I'd like to go home, and I don't think he does. Which is a problem."

"I am starting to settle down here, myself," Radek said. "I am not sure I will ever go back to Prague. But life in Atlantis is very much an acquired taste."

"I wish I could acquire it. Everyone else seems to have the knack."

"It is not heaven," Radek said. "It is just another small town. Not everyone wants to live in the same small town, no matter how many wonders it holds."

"I suppose not," Jennifer said. She picked up the syringe, and he could see her drawing her professional dignity back around her. "Roll up your sleeve."

The needle stung, and afterwards his arm burned. He flexed it gingerly.

"If you have any unusual symptoms, any nausea or lightheadedness, come back right away," Jennifer said.

"I will."

"If all goes well, in twelve hours we can test your immunity with a willing Wraith," Jennifer said. "Assuming there are any of those around at that point, and that you're even up for that."

Radek shifted uncomfortably. "Is that actually required?"

"It would be helpful to me in figuring out whether the formula actually works," Jennifer said. "But, again, there's an element of risk. I'm not going to ask you to do it, and certainly nobody's going to order you to do it."

He let out a breath. "I will do it," he said, although his skin crawled at the idea.

"Thank you." She glanced down at her hands and cleared her throat awkwardly. "And, umm, thank you for not deciding I'm the bad guy in this whole mess with Rodney. I know he's probably talked about it to you."

"Because when we work I am a captive audience," Radek said, and then relented. "He is my friend, and I would like him to be happy, but not at your expense."

She smiled at him, a more genuine smile that lit her face. She was only very young and a bit shy, he thought, not his romantic type, but someone who might make a good friend in time. "Thanks," she said.

"I should be thanking you," Radek said, rolling his sleeve back down. "You may have just saved me from the Wraith."

"Thank me when we know it works."

"If you believe it will work, then I trust you."

"Try not to test it by being attacked by a Wraith today, okay?"

Radek breathed a laugh. "I promise you, I will try."

John stopped in the mess hall for yet another cup of coffee, though by now his teeth were starting to feel as though they were coated with a thin film. After the real doughnuts at the briefing — O’Neill hadn’t been kidding — the long-packaged pastries still on the counter were less than appealing, and he settled for just coffee. He still wasn’t entirely sure this was going to work, but all in all he thought they had a better chance flying than staying on the planet. Of course, it would be better if Todd would just cooperate….

“Colonel Sheppard?”

He looked up, startled, to see a couple of the civilian scientists hovering uncertainly. He recognized the city’s new archeologist — well, not new, exactly, but newer than some — but not the freckled woman with him. “Yes?”

“Might we have a quick word?” That was the woman, and she seemed to realize in the same instant that he didn’t recognize her. “Claire Greensmith. I’m one of the geologists.”

John nodded. “As long as you really mean quick — yeah, go ahead.”

“Very quick, I promise.” That was Lynn, with a fleeting smile. “Colonel, how would we go about becoming essential?”

John blinked once, and then the meaning hit him. “You’d be a lot better off leaving. Both of you.”

“Yes, well.” Lynn spread his hands. “All my things are still here, and it’s just such a bother to pack —“

“We know the risk, I assure you,” Greensmith said. “It’s just — I don’t want to leave the city. Not now.”

Not ever, John thought, reading the determination in her face, and wondered if Lynn felt that same passion. “How good a shot are you?”

“Not bad, actually.” Greensmith smiled, and Lynn shrugged.

“As good as any social scientist who’s been with the SGC.”

“Passable,” John said.

Lynn nodded. “About that, yes.”

John sighed. He ought to tell them to leave, to protect themselves, but he understood loving the city, this astonishing place, alien and familiar all at once. “Exploration geologist?” he said.

Greensmith nodded.

“That sounds essential to me,” John said. He looked at Lynn. “And I’m sure you’ve memorized a lot of useful gate addresses and could help people get along on those worlds if our people have to go to ground somewhere.”

Lynn smiled. “Yes, I believe I have.”

“I’ll put you both on the list,” John said.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Greensmith said, and Lynn echoed her.

“Yeah,” John said. “Thank me later.”

Radek had managed to snatch a three-hour nap since the briefing, and that and the shower and clean clothes had given him a shot of energy. And if he needed more incentive, he thought, all he had to do was check the screens that showed the oncoming Wraith fleet. They were now well within range of the normal sensors, without resorting to Rodney's jury-rigged adjustments, and it wasn't looking good. Half a dozen hives was a lot of ships at the best of times, and at least some of them would be equipped with the new shield technology. Thanks to Rodney, Radek thought, shoving his glasses up on his nose, and couldn't manage to feel guilty. At least Colonel Carter had gotten a description of how the new shields worked, and thought she could use that to wear down the enemy.

He glanced back at his consoles, seeing displays he hadn't seen since they arrived on this unnamed world. Atlantis was stabilizing her towers, readying her systems for flight. Capacitors were charging, drawing from the thin sun and the motion of the waves, extra bursts of power to spare the ZPM. It was all going according to plan.

Except it wasn't going fast enough. He frowned at the graphs that showed the city's progress, system and structural readiness and the time needed to complete all the essential tasks. At the current rate, it would be done just after the Wraith reached attack range. Presumably the Hammond and the Genii ship would engage before then, but that was cutting it too close. He glared at the systems, and then began typing, moving the least essential items off the list entirely, telling the city and his teams to skip steps within other processes. The computers considered, and displayed a new result: he'd gained an hour.

Radek swore under his breath. There had to be another way — something he wasn't seeing, some shortcut he was missing….

"Problems, Doc?" That was Sheppard, coming up behind him so quietly that Radek jumped and swore again.

"Yes and no," he said. "This takes time, this process, and that is not something we have an infinite amount of."

"Preflight for something this big has to be a bitch," Carter said. She came to join Sheppard, peering at the displays. "What's the estimate look like?"

"Not what I would like," Radek answered, and leaned back to let her see more clearly. "Right now, we will launch about an hour before the Wraith fleet comes within shooting range. That is not counting on the Hammond and the Genii, of course —"

"That's not good enough," Sheppard said flatly. "We need to be in orbit when they enter the system, preferably before."

"I am trying," Radek answered. "There are things that can be cut, but — you know how complex the systems are."

Carter nodded slowly. "And I'm going to have to pull my people out to get the Hammond ready to launch."

"Could you give me another couple of hours?" Radek asked. "The more people we have, the more likely we can get this done. Or perhaps Dr. Lee's team?"

"We're still locking things down," Carter answered. "I'll send Dr. Lee as soon as we're ready for takeoff. They've already said they'll be the last team through the gate, that should help."

"It will help some," Radek said. You had to admire Bill Lee, he thought. The man had no real desire to travel to distant worlds, to put his life on the line, and yet here he was, doing exactly that, and not for the first time, either. He shook the thought away, tapping his fingers on the console. "Perhaps — no, damn it, that has to be cleared before the shield generators can be tested."

"I hate to say it," Carter said, "but we may need to put McKay on this."

"Rodney," Sheppard said.

Is there another McKay here? Radek swallowed the words. "I don't think that's necessarily a good idea —"

"You don't seriously think he's compromised," Sheppard said.

"The — this device is still missing," Radek said. "I do not like the risk."

Sheppard looked over his shoulder as though he expected to find the weapon lying under a console. "We'll find the damn thing. And if we don't, it's even more important to get the city ready to fly."

"And we will waste as much time double checking Rodney's work as we will save having him help us," Radek said. "I — no, I don't believe he is compromised, or certainly not consciously, but nonetheless we will all worry."

"It's your call, Dr. Zelenka," Carter said, in a tone that meant precisely the opposite, "but I think it would be helpful."

"What would be helpful?" And that was General O'Neill, drawn inevitably toward any cluster of senior people. Radek blinked up at him.

"We are looking for ways to speed up the preparations," he said. "Colonel Carter has suggested we get Rodney to help."

"And you don't like it," O'Neill said.

Radek shoved his glasses back up on his nose. Did he really think Rodney would betray them again? Not consciously, not knowingly or willingly, no: Teyla had said he was not Queen Death's man, and Radek trusted her implicitly. It was just — there were so many variables to juggle, so many things that all had to be gotten exactly right, and the truth of the matter was that no one else in Sciences could tell for sure if something was one of Rodney's brilliant ideas or a clever attempt at sabotage. And yet, it was Rodney. They had to trust him some time. "I do not, particularly," he said. "But Colonel Carter is right. We don't have a better choice."

"I could assign Ronon to keep an eye on him," Sheppard said. "If that would make people feel better."

"I like it," O'Neill said. "Go get McKay."

Just Fortune dropped out of hyperspace, the transitions shivering through its massive length. In the queen's quarters, Teyla looked up sharply, and Alabaster lifted her head.

"Surely we are too early," Teyla said aloud.

Alabaster rose from her couch and crossed to the nearest console, brushing aside a screen of metal vines. “By several hours. I wonder….” Her mental voice faded as she reached for the intercom. "Hivemaster. What has gone wrong?"

There was a little silence before Bonewhite answered, and when he spoke, he sounded faintly breathless, as though he had only just come to the bridge. "I don't yet know, Lady. We have dropped out of hyperspace — apparently a failsafe tripped. I'll inform you as soon as I know more."

"Do that," Alabaster answered, and closed the connection.

“I do not like the sound of that,” Teyla said.

“No more do I.” Alabaster was pacing again, as unable to wait in stillness as her father.

“It is pointless to speculate,” Teyla said, as much to herself as to the queen, and Alabaster showed teeth in genuine amusement.

“No, but one cannot help it. Failsafes can fire when they're not needed, that happens. Much depends on how cautious the Hivemaster is, though Bonewhite was never known for that.”

“He is Guide's right hand,” Teyla said her tone dry, and Alabaster laughed.

“It is true that my father was always called reckless. Even when I was a child, I remember —” The words stopped, but the image continued, Guide bowing deep to another scarlet-haired queen, her mind caught between amusement and exasperation. Alabaster's mother, Teyla realized, Guide's lost queen, her mind as cool and bright as the unmelting snow on the highest peaks of Athos.

Alabaster nodded, following her thoughts with ease. “Yes, that is Snow, my mother. The Seed had been planted for my own hive when she was killed, and I — was trapped in exile.”

Teyla repressed a shudder at that. She'd seen what happened when Dr. Keller had accidentally been infected, and she doubted the process was any more pleasant for the human just because the Wraith were controlling it. She did her best to conceal that thought, but some trace of it must have escaped, and Alabaster gave her a thin smile, daring her to comment.

"Lady." Bonewhite's voice spoke from the console, and Alabaster turned to answer.

"Yes."

"We've found the problem. A failsafe was tripped, and Hasten is working to be sure it will not happen again."

"Surely we can get underway without it?" Alabaster said.

"Hasten believes it will merely fire again if it isn't replaced," Bonewhite answered. "Give us an hour, no more than two, and it will be done."

We don't have that time. Teyla swallowed the words, and saw Alabaster's back straighten. "An hour, Hivemaster. No more. We must reach Atlantis before Death's fleet."

"Yes, Lady," Bonewhite said, and the screen went blank.

“I would also very much like to know exactly how that component came to fail,” Teyla said.

Alabaster nodded. “As would I. If Ember is right….”

“Then this may not be the last failure,” Teyla said, her voice grim. And if they did not reach Atlantis in time — no, she wouldn't allow herself to think that, any more than she would believe that Guide would fail them in the end.