Blood Ties

Chapter thirty-six

Elizabeth stood up from her desk and stretched, in a vain attempt to chase out the tension in her shoulders. Across the walkway in the control room, Woolsey was standing at the railing with Rodney, apparently trying to ignore the resentment of the technicians around him. She hadn't been surprised by the IOA's insistence on having one of their representatives witness the neutralization of M1M-316, but she had felt compelled to warn Woolsey that the expedition was unanimous in its vehement opposition to the action. All of them had been touched in some small way by the empathy of the microceratops during their brief visit, and no one wanted to see the animals summarily killed.

Rodney had written a persuasive-and detailed, at two hundred pages-report on the impracticality of using a pair of Stargates to link 316's sun to the nearest black hole. Firstly, they would have to deposit a gate close enough to the black hole for the link to work. Even supposing that such a highly dangerous mission could be undertaken successfully, the resultant supernova would not only destroy Ml M-316 but also emit an extraordinary amount of the plutonium isotope Pu-244, coincidentally annihilating all life on every planet of a neighboring star system just one hundred and fifty lightyears away.

The report had been worded with such a liberal-even by Rodney's usual standards-amount of hyperbole that the IOA, accustomed to almost instantaneous travel across millions of light years, had failed to note a minor element: the light from the supernova would take one hundred and fifty years to reach the unsuspecting and very human inhabitants of that system, and the dangerous isotope, considerably longer. In Elizabeth's eyes, genocide was genocide regardless of how long it took, and since the 10A s definition of that term seemed to hinge on the victims being human, Rodney had made sure to imply that the committee members would be risking a trip to the Hague if they ordered such an action. Lest anyone accuse the expedition of stalling the inevitable, he'd smoothly offered a counterproposal involving a naquadah- enhanced nuclear bomb.

Andnow the IOAhad taken them upon that, even suggesting that this act would cement the expedition's role as a critical component of Earth's homeworld defense. How quickly some things changed.

Here goes. Elizabeth strode across the walkway to join Rodney and Woolsey.

"How did this alternative proposal come about?" Woolsey was asking, as he feigned obliviousness at the frost in the room.

"Actually, it was the result of a failed test undertaken by Colonel Carter back in 2001, during General Bauer's brief tenure in command of the SGC." While Rodney was at least willing to speak to their visitor, his features were set in hard, sharp lines. "A naquadah-lithium hydride enhanced nuclear weapon set up a chain reaction on a planet whose surface held traces of naquadah in about the same proportion as the soil samples we took from M1M-316. The bomb you're about to send will make the surface of 316 completely uninhabitable for the next eighty-one million years."

Woolsey gave a weak, false-sounding chuckle. "You say that as if you're expecting me to push the button myself."

Elizabeth folded her arms. "We've made our position clear on this matter," she told him. "If the IOA wants to turn 316 into a giant ball of superheated plasma, that's certainly their prerogative. But we're not going to do it for you." She favored him with an equally false expression of innocence. "Besides, I assume you'll want to report back that you personally confirmed the elimination of the threat. What better way to do that than to send the weapon and check the results for yourself?"

Backed into a figurative comer, Woolsey looked uneasy. Still, he lifted his chin and nodded, stepping up to the dialing computer. "Give me the address of the planet, please."

With a glare that could have melted steel, Radek tapped a command into the computer, and the requested address appeared on the screen. Woolsey input each symbol in careful succession, and the gate opened. Mounted on a MALP, looking far too small and simple for a weapon of such magnitude, the bomb trundled through the event horizon.

On the control room screen, the now-familiar landscape of MlM-316 appeared. After a few seconds, a slight bluish shimmer signaled the MALP's passage through the force field surrounding the gate. A massive torosaurus lumbered past the camera, and a pair of childlike microceratops ran up to the MALP, inspecting it curiously. In the distance, Elizabeth could see a group of quetzalcoatlus flying past a breathtaking waterfall. It was the very picture of tranquility, and the very antithesis of the sleek silver weapon that now lay in its midst. How had the sentient raptors described manufactured objects? Dead things? And the bringer of death…

Summoning her resolve, Elizabeth turned to Woolsey. "Is there something you're waiting for?" she asked coldly.

Woolsey glanced around. A crowd had gathered in and around the gate room, in alcoves and on balconies. Everyone stared at him with open hostility. John, Ronon, and Teyla had appeared on the walkway, their expressions only marginally less scathing than that of Dr. Geisler, who'd arrived with them. In the control room, many of the technicians were holding back tears.

His jaw, flexing, Woolsey pressed the button.

The MALP's onboard camera swiveled to face the bomb's digital timer, which began a countdown sequence. When the timer reached the final second, the gate shut down.

From the back of the control room, a murmured prayer could be heard.

Before a startled Woolsey could ask about the shutdown, Rodney said, "Safety measure. The last time we used a bomb like this, the Stargate on the planet in question wasn't destroyed, and the feedback through the wormhole almost blew up Earth's gate, titanium iris and all. Atlantis's shield is considerably stronger, but all the same it's not really worth the risk. We'll dial back to make our confirmation in an hour."

"Just as well," Woolsey said quietly. "No one should have to bear witness to what we just did."

Elizabeth supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to hear his remorse. It wasn't as if he was truly heartless-merely caught in a difficult position and doing what he felt was necessary.

Woolsey raised his voice to address the assembled crowd. "I understand your strong feelings on this matter. This decision wasn't made without difficulty or conflict, but it was determined to be the best option to protect our world. I hope that one day you'll be able to believe that."

As expedition members began to disperse back to their duty stations, he turned to Elizabeth. "I believe it would be best if I return to Earth as soon as possible to deliver my report "

"I think that's a terrific idea," John said, his voice deadly serious. "Why don't you go wait in the briefing room until it's time to dial 316 and check on your handiwork?"

Looking a little pale, Woolsey all but fled the room. Elizabeth motioned John's team, Radek, and Geisler into her office. It was something of a tight squeeze; all of them huddled in a circle in front of her desk like they were setting up a football play. The last one in, Radek closed the door behind him, and all the angry tension seemed to leach out of their bodies.

John bounced on the balls of his feet. "I couldn't see the screen. How did it look?"

"How do you think it looked?" Rodney looked faintly affronted. "The hologram worked brilliantly."

"And so did you and your team, Rodney." Elizabeth sat on a comer of her desk, feeling drained but elated. "You all deserve Academy Awards for that performance, to say nothing of the technical aspects."

The scientist gave a satisfied smirk. "It was simply a matter of manipulating the dialing crystals. Instead of M1M-316, Woolsey sent the bomb to a thoroughly barren chunk of rock that happened to contain trace amounts of naquadah. I'm sure the fireworks were impressive."

"And M1M-316?" Geisler asked.

"Once Mr. Woolsey confirms that the planet's surface has been completely destroyed," answered Elizabeth, "I'll stall him with a few final reports from the botany department on the properties of the ginkgo while Rodney changes the crystals back. He'll march off to Earth and tell the IOA members the threat's been eliminated."

Rodney added, "I'll also update the database at that time to lock 316 out of the system. The records will show that it won't be safe to visit for eighty-one million years, give or take a few millennia."

Geisler's broad smile turned wistful. "I can only imagine the heights its extraordinary residents will have achieved by then."

"Nice work, everyone. Really. Now get back into character in case Woolsey gets up the courage to stick his head out of the briefing room." Elizabeth watched the others leave, taking her brief euphoria with them. She looked up at John, who'd hung back in the doorway.

"Did we do the right thing here?" she asked simply.

John returned and perched on the opposite corner of the desk. "No question about it."

"If the Lilith, or even the Ninlil, ever find a way off Earth-"

"Let's not worry about that unless we have a reason to. They're pretty decimated, and the SGC's got a good handle on homeworld defense."

Elizabeth accepted that response, weaving her fingers together in her lap. Decimated. She resisted the urge to press her military commander for details about what had happened on Earth, knowing he would only recite the facts, never explaining the reasons behind the distant expression she'd seen flicker across his features.

"We have a secret now," she said softly, "one we have no choice but to keep. The instant anyone from the SGC or the IOA learns that M1M-316 was spared, every last one of us will be recalled to Earth, and the expedition, if it continues at all, will go forward with new leadership that will finish the job. While I know we all agreed on this course of action, I can't help feeling like I've put a lot of people in a very difficult position."

With a purposely cavalier shrug, John replied, "I can't speak for anyone else, but I've built up something of a name for myself in the business of following my instincts and risking the wrath of superiors. It'd be a shame to break my streak now. I just wish we could tell Jackson how we flipped the IOA the bird." Sobering, he cast a sidelong glance at her. "Don't put this on yourself, Elizabeth. Like you said, we all agreed. We're in this together, just like we always have been."

It was surprisingly comforting, that last phrase, amid all the uncertainty that seemed to define the Atlantis expedition. This time around, they'd managed to circumvent a militaristic preemptive action toward a perceived threat. Between the dangers posed by the Wraith and the Asurans, however, she feared that such actions might become increasingly attractive, possibly even advisable under some circumstances. Where that would leave her, professionally and personally, she couldn't be sure.

But John was right. They'd figure it out together, as always.

"Thank you," she told him, reaching out to touch his shoulder before standing up. "Shall we go mope and glare at Woolsey until he gets out of our hair?"

"Sounds like a plan." John held out a hand in an `after you' gesture.

Sunlight played over the gate room floor as they crossed the walkway, and Elizabeth felt some of her confidence return. As she'd vowed to herself at the start of this journey, nearly three years ago, she would take each day as it came.