STARGATE ATLANTIS: The Furies (Book 4 in the Legacy series) (29 page)

The doors to the pier slid open ahead of her, and here was Franklin coming toward her. Which begged the question of waiting. Better to get it over with.

“Major Franklin,” she said. “Just the man I was looking for.”

“Ma’am?” Franklin looked surprised. That wasn’t her usual tone of voice. She sounded like she was channeling Jack. He could kick somebody’s butt between their ears in the most thorough way she’d ever seen without ever raising his voice.

“I understand you have a problem with Colonel Sheppard,” she said. Spit it out and see what he said.

“Ma’am?” He looked bewildered, not guilty. That was a good sign, if it was genuine.

“Telling stories on his record at the poker game last night.” She didn’t wait for him to deny it. That was a General Hammondism — if you know it’s true, never give them a chance to sidetrack the conversation onto how you know it. “I’m very disappointed in you, Major. That’s unprofessional. Digging up rumors seven or eight years old about the commander of the base you’re visiting and repeating them to his subordinates is absolutely out of bounds.”

“Um,” Franklin gulped. Ok, not guilt or hostility. Franklin could be a motor mouth. She’d already figured that out. Maybe this was nothing but that, gossip to make himself sound important when trying to fit in with people he didn’t know. But Hocken would read it as a threat, and Lorne as an attack on someone whose back he was watching.

“Sheppard is a fine man and a good officer,” Sam said. “Moreover, he’s the commander of this base, where we are guests. Guests do not muddy the water for their hosts. Is that clear?”

“Abundantly, ma’am,” Franklin said, drawing himself up. If she’d been him, her cheeks would have been flaming.

“Right now we are enjoying the full liberty of the city. It wouldn’t be very pleasant if the crew of the
Hammond
or any individual were to lose that liberty and have to stay aboard the ship for the remainder of our stay.” Atlantis’ mess served fresh food. They had unlimited showers and a full gym, movie nights and poker games and pick up basketball. Franklin being stuck aboard the
Hammond
for several weeks would be a pretty severe punishment. For the entire crew of the
Hammon
d
to be stuck aboard the ship because Franklin had insulted the base commander would make his life utter hell.

Not that Sheppard would do that. He wouldn’t punish the whole crew of the
Hammond
by placing the city off limits. But Franklin probably didn’t know Sheppard well enough to know that. And Sam would certainly require Franklin to stay aboard if she thought he was going to make trouble.

“Yes, ma’am.” Franklin’s voice was very precise. He saw the event horizon looming there too.

“I do not want to hear any further stories about you spreading old rumors,” Sam said. “Gossip is unprofessional, and doubly so when it reflects poorly on your ship and your command. I am sure this is the last of this incident.”

“It is, ma’am.” Franklin brought himself to attention.

“Good. Now go get a crew together to get the hull plates that Dr. Kusanagi will need for repairs tomorrow. Ask her which bay they’re stored and move them to the tarmac next to the
Hammond
. You’ll need the bobcat, because the plates are large and very heavy.” Franklin had probably been on his way to dinner, but it wouldn’t hurt him to wait a little while. A couple of hours’ work loading hull plates would serve as a reminder of how very unpleasant his life could become, but wouldn’t be severe enough to get his back up. That was the other thing she couldn’t afford. She needed a first officer who was on her team, who was 100 percent bought in. She could strangle him for making this necessary. But it also wasn’t the kind of thing she could afford to let pass.

“Yes, ma’am.” Franklin opened his mouth and shut it again, as though deciding what to say. “Ma’am, I want you to know that I don’t have anything personal against Colonel Sheppard. I barely knew him in Kandahar.”

“Good,” Sam said. “Then I’m certain we won’t need to speak of this again.”

Teyla dreamed, and in her dream she knew she was in Atlantis. She rose up from her bed and left John sleeping, left her rooms and walked the halls sleeplessly, through silent echoing corridors, past windows that opened on night.

She made her way to the control room, hearing even before she entered the comforting soft sounds of the machines, the voices of the duty crew. Chuck was at the ops board, and gave her a smile as she passed. The office door was open, and Teyla was unsurprised to hear Rodney, to see him pacing back and forth, explaining something to Elizabeth, who sat at her desk, her laptop open before her.

“Of course it’s a problem,” he said testily. “90 percent of the females died in the initial trials. But those who lived were more radically transformed than we anticipated. I don’t think we had any idea that we would be creating those kinds of mental powers, far beyond anything we have previously experienced.”

Teyla stood in the doorway, hesitating, but Elizabeth raised her eyes and beckoned to her. “Come in, Teyla,” she said. “This concerns you.”

“It’s a big problem,” Rodney said.

“The mortality rate?”

“No, no, no.” Rodney shook his head. “We knew that might be an issue.”

“What are you talking about?” Teyla asked, and thought she saw Elizabeth nod almost imperceptibly.

“What to do about the Asurans,” John said, slouching in the visitor’s chair.

“Michael,” Carson said, standing by the window, looking out into the gateroom below. “What do we do with Michael? We should never have begun this.”

“How else were you going to get this off my neck?” John asked, turning his head. The Iratus Bug was clamped on his throat, teeth in the vein.

“I think we’ve got a problem here,” Rodney said. He turned and looked at her, Elizabeth’s eyes following him. “We have to kill Osprey.”

“It’s too bad,” Carson said mildly.

“Yeah,” John said, and got to his feet in one swift move, leveling the P90 at her.

And then she was running, diving behind the control board as the shots followed her, rattling off the metal, throwing sparks from the Ancient systems. She was running and they were behind her, the gateroom floor dancing with tracer fire as she sprinted toward the open event horizon, John’s voice behind her, calling in Marine teams on the radio. She felt the bullets touch her, once, twice, but miraculously she was still on her feet, still running through the pain, plunging into the wormhole.

And out the other end.

She stood in the gatefield on Athos, and a low moon was setting behind scudding clouds. Across the water the ruined city rose cold and stark.

Elizabeth stood before the gate, lifted her chin. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Athos,” Teyla said, looking around. The wind whispered over the dry grass. “This is Gatefield. My mother was Tegan of Gatefield. My people came here in the spring each year of my life. We spent the winters in the valleys where the weather was less harsh, but we returned here every spring, to Gatefield and Emege That Was.” She looked at Elizabeth, her heart still pounding. Guides came but seldom in dreams, but she knew one when she saw it. And of course it would take the form of one she had known and trusted. “Elizabeth,” she said respectfully, “What is it I am supposed to know? What are you trying to tell me?”

“You already know,” Elizabeth said. “You have all the pieces, Teyla. You just have to put them together.”

“You will not tell me?” Teyla asked, though she did not expect an answer. If it were so simple, there would be no need of the rest of it.

“I can’t do that,” Elizabeth said, and Teyla thought she heard real regret in her voice. “But you have all the pieces now. It’s all there. You should ask Kate to help you put it together.”

“Kate is dead,” Teyla said, and her voice broke on it. “She is dead these two years.”

“Janus knew,” she said. “But he did not tell me. Perhaps he told Dr. Jackson. I don’t know. If so, he does not remember.”

“I do not know what you mean,” Teyla said. “Elizabeth, what use is there in asking people who are dead or who do not remember?”

“You remember,” Elizabeth said. “It’s in your blood, in your lineage. You remember. And you are free to act.”

“And you are not?” Teyla asked sharply, her head rising like a hunting dog’s.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Wake,” she said. “And remember.”

Eva Robinson had just put her cup of coffee down on her desk and switched on her monitor, ready to begin her day, when there was a soft knock on the door. She looked up and suppressed a shudder.

Teyla stood in the doorway, Teyla and not Teyla at the same time. She understood that the physical transformation into a Wraith queen was grueling, and of course it didn’t make any sense to undo it when presumably Dr. Keller would only have to redo it again in a few days, but it was still eerie. For now it seemed that a Wraith queen was walking freely around Atlantis.

It didn’t help that Teyla dressed the part, still wearing the black skirts and dark emerald bodice of the Wraith queen rather than her usual clothing. Maybe her regular clothes looked too strange on a Wraith. Maybe that was worse, or at least more confusing.

“Do you have a few moments?” Teyla asked politely.

“I have lots of moments,” Eva said, glancing down at the calendar up on her computer. “I have all the moments until 11 o’clock.” She shrugged. “I’m still not the most popular person in Atlantis.”

Teyla came in, her skirts whispering against the door as it closed behind her. She lifted her chin. “I would like to talk to you about my dreams. This is something that I would have brought to Kate.”

Eva smiled, picking up her coffee cup. It was snowing again, big moist white flakes swirling around the towers. “Come on in and sit down,” she said. “I can be a pretty good ear too.” She handed Teyla her coffee. “Can you hold this for me for a minute? I’m getting pretty good on the crutches, but I can’t handle them with a full cup of coffee yet.” Teyla took the cup and she pushed up, coming around the desk to one of the chairs by the window.

“I am happy to,” Teyla said, handing her cup to her once she was sitting and had arranged the crutches close at hand. She settled into the other chair, shaking her hair back from her face. “Elizabeth said I should bring this to Kate, and since I cannot, I bring it to you.”

Eva’s coffee grew cold in the cup while the story unfolded. At last Teyla sat with her hands in her lap, silent. “That’s pretty incredible,” she said.

“I do not expect you to believe that I have really spoken with Elizabeth,” Teyla said tightly.

Eva shrugged. “Why not? Many people have the experience of speaking with friends or loved ones who are dead.”

Teyla looked at her keenly with sharp golden eyes. “You are different,” she said.

“It takes a certain kind of arrogance to dismiss the experiences of thousands of other people because they don’t jibe with your personal beliefs,” Eva said. “I don’t know what happens after death. But I do know that many people have very profound experiences dreaming about or talking with the dead.” She put her coffee cup down. “It’s not my job to change people’s beliefs, Teyla. My job is to help people find solutions to their problems within the framework of their beliefs.”

“I am asking you,” Teyla said. “What do you think this is about?’

Eva sighed. “Well, at a glance the glib answer would be that you’re deeply disturbed by this masquerade. You find yourself identifying with the Wraith, and that makes you question your relationships with the people in your life.”

“I know that,” Teyla said. “Believe me, I am aware that I make people uncomfortable.”

“You would make people less uncomfortable if you wore your regular clothes,” Eva said. “And you don’t.”

Teyla smiled, and it was a Wraith queen’s smile. “Perhaps I think it is good for people to be a little uncomfortable. It makes them uncomfortable to see a Wraith as a person. It is always uncomfortable to see the enemy as people, and yet that is the truth of it.”

Eva nodded. “That’s a hard thing for people to do when they’re engaged in battle. There’s a school of thought that it’s one of the primary reasons for PTSD. It’s the people who have the strongest empathy, the people who are the most culturally flexible and have the strongest sense of responsibility for others who are the most vulnerable. They can’t turn it off. They can’t stop caring.”

“And yet they are the best ones,” Teyla said quietly, her eyes on the falling snow outside. “Who would want to entrust the lives of people to someone to whom they were nothing? I would not follow such a leader. Nor would I give responsibility to someone who did not feel the full weight of it.”

“There’s the bind,” Eva said. “Empathy and flexibility are important in a leader. And yet it’s those very qualities that mean that events cut them to pieces.” She reached for her cold coffee. Cold was better than none. “So they’ve got to have something firm to stand on. They need good skills and a supportive network to get through it. With the right kind of platform to stand on, people can thrive in the most difficult situations.” Her eyes met Teyla’s. “But you know that,” she said. “Coming from a world where everyone lives under that kind of shadow.”

“Yes,” Teyla said thoughtfully, “And no. Because there is no responsibility. The Wraith come, inevitable as weather, but also equally without fault. No one is to blame. Tragedy strikes, but no one is expected to do anything about it. It is no one’s fault.” She shook her head. “I am dreaming about old stories,” she said. “I never liked the story of the changeling girl, never, not even as a child.” She gave Eva a rueful smile, strange in a Wraith queen’s face. “I felt sorry for her. A girl who was transformed into a monster, into a revenant, but who even the Ancestors could not catch, because she could shift her shape into that of a white bird. And so she haunts the forests still, disguised as a patch of mist or as a water bird, waiting for the unwary.” Teyla shrugged, rearranging her sleeve along her arm. “I expect this is the sort of tale that all peoples have, to prevent children from wandering off into the forest. Do as your parents tell you and be home by dark or the changeling will get you!”