The Inheritors

Chapter Five Compromises

"So I expect you'll want to start moving your fleet into position," Jack said.

"Yes," Guide said, pacing behind the chair where Alabaster sat. "As soon as we see that you have destroyed Hyperion's weapon."

"That could take a little time."

Guide showed his teeth. "How long would you like us all to wait?"

Jack thumbed on his radio headset. "Carter, are you almost ready to drop that weapon into the sun?"

"We've hit a snag, sir," Sam said over the radio.

"We don't have time to hit a snag. Figure it out and let's get this done."

"For that we would need the weapon, and right now we can't find it."

Jack looked at Guide and Alabaster. "Excuse me just one moment." Alabaster tilted her head to one side in a gesture that might have meant permission to leave. Jack stepped out into the hall, ignoring the questioning look from the Marine guard.

"What do you mean, you lost it?"

"I didn't lose it," Sam said firmly. "I never had it. Sheppard hid it for safekeeping, and when he went back to get it, he discovered it was gone. Someone stole it and tampered with the security footage to cover their tracks. We're combing the city for it now."

"Queen Death's fleet will be here in thirty-six hours," Jack said. "I need this thing destroyed about ten minutes ago."

"We're working on it," Sam said. "You're going to have to stall the Wraith until we find it."

"Stalling them isn't the problem," Jack said. "Getting their fleet moving is the problem."

"I don't know, be diplomatic. As soon as we find the thing, we'll take it out and dump it. The Wraith can ride along if they want to watch. But I can't destroy it when I don't know where it is."

"So find out where it is."

"Yes, sir."

Jack stepped back into the conference room. "We've hit a little snag," he said.

"Of course you have," Guide said. "As time is growing short, perhaps you should turn the weapon over to us. I expect we can think of some solution to your insoluble problem."

"Have you considered dropping it into the sun?" Alabaster said.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Because you have no intention of destroying the weapon at all," Guide snapped.

"No, because it's missing," Jack said flatly. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Guide and Alabaster exchanged a brief glance. "Why would we want to prevent this grotesque weapon from being destroyed?"

"You wouldn't," Jack said. "Unless you were looking for an excuse to back out of our deal."

"You are the one who is trying to deceive us," Guide said. He circled the conference table, teeth bared in a snarl. Jack stood his ground. Guide stopped a few paces away from him, flexing one hand as if considering how Jack would taste. "A dangerous gamble."

"I try not to gamble," Jack said. "I prefer to bet on sure things. Like the fact that Carter is going to destroy that weapon just as soon as we get it back in our hands."

"Not good enough," Guide said, raising his hand, claws outstretched toward Jack's chest. He had to force himself not to move. The worst thing you could do when you were trying to stare down a predator was to run.

Alabaster made a tsking noise. "I don't think eating him will help matters."

Guide didn't look as certain of that, but he did back off, his eyes still on Jack's face. He bowed to Alabaster in what looked to Jack like a slightly overdone show of obedience, turning up his palms and then deliberately lowering his hands to his sides.

"You know, we have this game on Earth," Jack said. "We call it 'good cop, bad cop.'"

Alabaster tilted her head to one side. "What is a cop?"

"We waste time," Guide snapped. "We must return to our fleet. With or without an alliance. Decide which you would prefer."

"I'd prefer with," Jack said. "We'll find the weapon." He nodded blandly to both Wraith and stepped back out into the hallway, trying not to feel like he was retreating under fire. "Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell me you can find this weapon."

"We're doing our best," she said. "I've got Zelenka going over the altered security footage to see if there's any way of retrieving the original data."

"I am beginning to doubt it," Zelenka said as he came onto the radio. "Whoever did this was very good."

"And who do we think that is?"

"A good question," Zelenka said. "I suspect someone with legitimate access to the security system. And very good at covering their tracks."

"And they would have to have known about Hyperion's weapon," Sam said. "I hate to say it, but…"

"You do not think…" Zelenka said.

"What?" Jack demanded.

"Well, sir," Sam said, "it's beginning to look like it must have been McKay."

"Then it's time we had a little talk with McKay," Jack said. "Tell Sheppard to find McKay and put him under arrest."

"Finally," Rodney snapped as John and Woolsey came in from the corridor outside the detention area. "Will you get me out of this ridiculous cell?"

"I'm afraid we can't do that until you answer some questions," Woolsey said.

Rodney threw up his hands. "How many more questions do you want me to answer? I've been debriefed a million times since I got back to Atlantis. Yesterday, you were fine with my going on missions. Today, you're locking me up. How does that even make sense?"

"Hyperion's weapon is missing," John said. "We know you took it."

"Oh, is that all?" Rodney felt a rush of mingled guilt and relief, swiftly turning to indignation. "You could have just asked me. It's perfectly safe."

"What happened to it?"

"I moved it," Rodney said.

Woolsey frowned. "You don't deny you're responsible?"

"Why would I deny that? I mean, yes, I know technically I should have told you, but as the head of the Sciences department, it is my responsibility. And since Sheppard here was thinking about where he put it so loudly that the Wraith would have to have their hands over their ears not to hear him—"

"Were you in my head?" John said, with a look of distaste.

"Oh, like it's the first time you've had a Wraith poking around in there."

"You're not a Wraith. And I thought the Gift didn't work on humans."

"Teyla's Gift doesn't. But I wasn't a human with some Wraith DNA, I was actually a Wraith, and some parts of my brain are apparently still Wraith-shaped. And when someone is standing there very loudly thinking 'I really hope none of the Wraith can figure out my secret hiding place, because that would really suck'…"

"You read my mind."

"It's not like I did it on purpose."

"And that explains why you stole the weapon?" Woolsey asked.

"I didn't steal it, I moved it," Rodney insisted. "It seemed to me that it would be safer in a secure location that Sheppard didn't know about."

John scowled at him. "And what if they read your mind?"

"Well, we can't very well put it somewhere that none of us knows about, unless you're planning for us all to get that amnesia virus again."

"We've all had that already," John said.

"I haven't," Woolsey said, looking a bit worried.

John looked at him sideways. "Lucky you."

"I can keep the…" Rodney stumbled on his next words, with an abrupt and confusing sense of seeing the world through two competing perspectives. ‘The other Wraith’, Quicksilver would have said, but Quicksilver had never really existed. "I can keep the Wraith from hearing what I'm thinking."

"Are you sure?" John asked.

"Pretty sure?"

"How sure?"

"Pretty sure! Which is better than any of the rest of us can say, except maybe Teyla."

"You could have given it to Teyla."

"So could you, Mr. Lone Cowboy."

"Let me get this straight," Woolsey broke in. He put his fingers to his temple as if he were getting a headache. "You found the device by extracting the location of its hiding place from his mind using Wraith telepathy."

"We have got to have regulations against doing that," John said.

"We'll come back to that," Woolsey said. "You took the device from its hiding place and moved it to another location. Did you at any time communicate that location to any of the Wraith?"

"No," Rodney said, staring at him. "Why would I do that?"

"If you were compromised, McKay," John said, as if he were a slow student. "Are you sure they didn't make you take it?"

"Of course they didn't make me take it," Rodney said. "I took it because I don't trust the United States military with genocide-in-a-box."

"We work for the United States military," John said.

"You work for the United States military," Rodney said. "I work for the IOA. Has anyone asked them what we ought to do with the device?"

"Does that sound like a remotely good idea to you?" John demanded.

"All right, no," Rodney admitted. "I don't trust them with this. I don't trust us with this. I'm not sure I'd trust anybody with this." He drew himself up to his full height. "I think it ought to be destroyed."

"Which is what we are currently planning to do," Woolsey said.

Rodney blinked at him. "We are?"

"O'Neill decided that last night," John said. "Carter and I went to get the device to destroy it, only, hey, it's gone. As you can imagine, Todd and Alabaster are pretty pissed off with us, or at least that's what they tell us. So if you're not brainwashed, where's the goddamn weapon?"

Rodney hesitated. He hated to lose the security of his private retreat. Of course, there were other unused tower rooms, but he'd always liked the view there. "I could go get it," he said.

"Not a chance," John said. His hand rested pointedly on his stunner.

"What, like stunning me is going to make me tell you where it is? Which I'm about to do," he said, to cut off any further accusations. "North pier, tower 11, the west side of the top floor. The password is 23181401012218. It's on a box under the desk."

John tapped his radio. "Carter, this is Sheppard," he said. "McKay says he moved it to keep it safe." He sounded extremely dubious, but repeated the details Rodney had given him. "She's going to go see if it's there."

"I should go up there too," Rodney said. "This is a delicate piece of machinery we barely know anything about, and no offense to Colonel Carter, but—"

"She'll be fine," John said. "And you're not going anywhere."

"You've got to be kidding," Rodney said indignantly. "Queen Death's fleet is on its way. Every second I spend in here is time I'm wasting not preparing the city for a major Wraith attack."

Woolsey cleared his throat. "Under the circumstances, Dr. McKay, you'll understand why I think it's better if you don't help."

"So, what, you're just going to keep me in here?"

"Just sit tight, McKay," John said. "As soon as this is over—"

"Once this is over, what? I mean, assuming that we're not all eaten by the Wraith. Is there any way that I can ever actually prove that I haven't been compromised? Because I can't even begin to do my job if you don't trust me. I need to be back on regular duty, and I need full access to the computer system back."

"Which is exactly what you'd be saying if you had been compromised," Woolsey said.

"And exactly what I'd be saying if I hadn't been compromised, so that doesn't tell you anything. It's like the man who always lies and the one who always tells the truth."

John frowned. "What are you talking about, McKay?"

"You know, the logic problem. Where there's one man who always lies, and one who always tells the truth, and if you ask them if they're lying, they're both always going to say no."

"Have you been compromised by the Wraith?" John asked, but Rodney could hear the black humor in his voice.

"No," Rodney said, with the same bleak smile.

John shrugged. "Good enough for me."

"Does that mean I can go now? I still need to help Sam figure out how to actually destroy this thing."

"She says she's going to drop it into a sun."

"Oh, yes, that's elegant."

"We're not going for elegant, here, McKay, just gone. And you're not going anywhere until we hear from Carter."

"Fine," Rodney said, and crossed his arms. "We'll just wait."

After a few very tense minutes, John looked up, his hand on his radio earpiece. "What do you mean?" He listened again for a moment, his whole body tense. "No, I copy that."

"What's going on?" Rodney demanded.

"You tell me," John said in a dangerous tone. "Carter found your secret clubhouse. The weapon isn't there."

"That's where I left it," Rodney said. "Someone must have found it." John and Woolsey exchanged looks. "You have to believe me."

"Believe me, I wish we could," Woolsey said.

"But we can't," John said flatly. "Not unless we can get someone to tell us what's really going on in your head."

Woolsey looked skeptical. "I know Alabaster has the ability to read human minds, but I don't see how we could possibly trust her."

"I'm not talking about Alabaster," John said. "I'm talking about Teyla."

Another break from another interminable meeting, this time ostensibly for lunch, though Teyla doubted anyone would actually eat. Certainly the Wraith would not, and she had no appetite, too tense from four hours at the conference table. Instead, Teyla walked out on the balcony. She would stand for a moment in the wind and sun and hope to find balance.

The bright sun caught the white caps of the waves breaking against the piers below, glittered off windows scrubbed by rain. The wind was cold, but she could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, turning her face toward it like a dayflower.

The door opened again behind her and she knew without turning that it was Alabaster, and knew just as clearly that two Marines stood behind just inside the door, technically guarding the door, not the young queen. The thought lay on the surface of Alabaster's mind, a sardonic aside — as though what? She might suddenly leap from a forty story building? Why?

“It is their job to guard,” Teyla said, mind to mind. “You would not rebuke any blade for doing his duty.”

“To guard you?”

“I do not need guarding,” Teyla said, but there was no heat in it. Alabaster knew it well enough.

Instead she rested her elbows on the railing, looking out over city and sea. Her red hair caught the sun brighter than any hue natural to humans, and she stretched out her hands, palms downwards, as though the warmth felt good to her too. For a long moment she stood thus, watching the shadows of clouds on the sea and across the City of the Ancients.

“It is beautiful,” Alabaster said contemplatively. “I have never seen anything like it, and Osprey had no memories of Atlantis.”

“No,” Teyla agreed. “Osprey was never in Atlantis.” The only memories of the City of the Ancients were her own — her own life, her own path, her own choices — not those of a woman dead ten thousand years.

“It is beautiful,” Alabaster said again. “One of many beautiful things they wrought. So much that was wrong, and yet so many things that are beautiful.” She turned to Teyla, her hands at her sides and she smiled in a way that no doubt disconcerted the Marines just within. “And can you say that we are not beautiful, you and I?”

Odd and strange, yes, but beautiful still, the turnings of the hive, the light on the towers of Atlantis. “All of the daughters of the Ancients are beautiful,” Teyla said, and a strange peace opened in her heart. “All of the daughters, whether the daughters of Amytas in Pegasus, or the daughters of the women of Earth, or Osprey and her kind. We are all the heirs of the Ancients.” Towers reflected sun and sea or each other, dazzling brightness. “This belongs to all of us. We are all their children.”

“Yes,” Alabaster said. She looked away, toward the sea again, and her face seemed very young, a girl of eighteen or so, which perhaps she was in Wraith years, a woman young for her service. “I do not believe you would use this weapon. I do not think it is in your heart to do so. But that is not true of everyone here, and you know it.”

“I do,” Teyla said. “But we will prevail. I have known all these people for years, and I put my trust in Mr. Woolsey and General O'Neill.”

“Then why is it not done?”

“I do not know,” Teyla said. “But it shall be. I give you my word.”

Alabaster's eyes searched her face, as though looking for some sign there which it would be improper to seek mind to mind. “And then what? Once we have defeated Queen Death, then what will we do? Shall I try to kill you, or you me?”

“I hope that the retrovirus Dr. Keller and Guide have made will give us another option,” Teyla said.

“My men are eager to try it,” Alabaster agreed. “Each of them has pledged already to give of their lives to save others who are gravely injured or ill, a heroes' pledge among their people, just as they pledge to give their lives as warriors or rescuers for those lost at sea. It is an honor among them. Do you understand this?”

“Yes,” Teyla said.

“If they must die for others they shall, or be gravely injured or lose years of their lives. They know this. But if it is possible to save others and not die, it is better. If they may save others without the sacrifice of their lives or health, they would prefer it. Are not your people the same?”

“Yes,” Teyla said again, and an ache stirred in her. “It would be better if they did not have to die, even though they are pledged to the sacrifice.”

“That is what I think too,” Alabaster said. “Life must come from somewhere. We must eat if we aren't to starve. But if we could feed without causing death, and if those who have promised to pay the price did not have to pay with their lives, but only with pain that lasts a few days, perhaps….”

“…perhaps in time there might be peace,” Teyla said. “I do not know if this can be. But I know what lies in the other direction.” The pictures were there in her mind, the ruined city of Emege, the drawings of the Athosians on the walls of their refuge, Osprey burning with the pain of starvation.

“So do I,” Alabaster said.

Teyla's radio clicked. "Teyla?" John's voice was sharp. "I need you in the brig now."

"What has happened?" she asked, putting her hand to the headset.

"I'll tell you when you get down here."

Alabaster did not seem alarmed. "I shall wait for your Mr. Woolsey to open the session again. It seems your Consort needs you greatly."

"It seems so," Teyla said. She opened the channel again. "I am on my way," she said.