Brimstone

Chapter Thirteen

Sheppard ploughed back into the main room, blinking to accustom his eyes to the semi-darkness and flickering lights. The giant party that was the heartbeat of Admah continued unabated. If anything, there were more dancers and musicians, more laughing revelers and passionate couples than before. It took a moment to orient himself, but as soon as he spotted it he returned to the bar where he’d met Mara. The rest of the team — including McKay — had gathered around a single table, where Saul sat talking to Teyla. A couple of the local women hovered near Cumby, full of smiles and seduction.

“Returning to us so soon?” Saul raised an eyebrow. “I’d assumed that Mara would be giving you an… extended tour.”

“You have a beautiful city,” Sheppard said, struggling to keep his anger in check. “She took me to the observatory — the view was…overwhelming.”

Saul’s jaw stiffened, and then his smile returned. Clearly caught by surprise, he didn’t seem perturbed. “Startling view isn’t it?”

“Eye opening,” Sheppard agreed.

Ronon, Teyla, and the others stared at him but Sheppard kept his expression neutral. He was about to speak again, when Saul stood and clapped his hands. The crowd grew silent, chairs shuffled, and a whispered murmur fluttered across the room.

The chamber grew lighter gradually as lamps were lit along its walls, and a group of men emerged from the shadows and began to slide tables together near the center of the room. It all took place in a matter of moments — obviously a well-practiced ritual. Sheppard and his team stood, watching in silence and waiting to see what new surprise Saul had in store.

“As it turns out,” Saul said, “you’ve returned just in time for dinner, Colonel.”

He turned to Teyla and offered his arm. She stared at it as if it might be poisonous and glanced at Sheppard. Though he longed to throttle the truth from Saul’s lips now was hardly the time, so he nodded to Teyla and she reached out and took Saul’s arm.

Turning away from the bar, Saul smiled and made his way down the dinner tables.

The rest of the team followed and Sheppard dropped back, falling in step beside Rodney.

“Listen up,” he whispered, keeping his eye on Saul. “You’re going to love this.”

Rodney cocked his head, clearly trying to appear inconspicuous, but only succeeding in looking supremely suspicious and uncomfortable. Stealth was not among his talents.

“There is no storm, you were right. Mara says there’s a protocol in place that prevents the gate from connecting to the same address twice. Once someone comes through from one gate, they can’t return to where they came from and no one else can come through from there.”

“But — ”

“Just listen. I need you to figure out how they could do that — and then disable the protocol. Otherwise we’re not getting home before we’re all deep fried.”

“There’s a surprise,” Rodney said through gritted teeth. “Whatever we do let’s not get into a situation where Rodney has plenty of time to save the day. In fact, let’s see if we can’t complicate it hopelessly, encrypt it using Ancient code, and — oh, yeah — why not make sure it only involves equipment we’ve never seen?”

Sheppard looked at him. “Just do it Rodney.”

Saul seated Teyla near the head of the dining table. He leaned close to one of the men hovering nearby — it was hard to tell if they were servants, or guards, or just used to doing what Saul told them. The man asked something, Saul answered, and the other nodded. He broke off from the group he’d been conversing with and approached Sheppard.

“We have taken the liberty of assigning you seating,” the man said. “Many of our people have voiced an interest in meeting you, so we’ve done what we can to spread you out and give everyone the chance to entertain you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” Sheppard said.

“If you will follow me then?”

Before Sheppard could do so, a hand fell on his shoulder. Mara was standing beside him, smiling tentatively. Teyla wondered what had occurred between them during their absence, but could not read the truth on Colonel Sheppard’s face.

“If you don’t mind,” Mara said, “you could sit with me?”

“Of course,” Sheppard said smoothly, breaking free of the pack and taking her arm. “I was hoping you’d catch up.”

The man who was guiding them seemed irritated by the interruption, but he shrugged it off as Sheppard turned to follow Mara down the table and away. He led the rest on down the table and, within a few moments, Rodney had been deposited between two women who eyed him with interest, and Cumby had been escorted down to an oddly dressed group of diners near the far end of the table.

Ronon was the last to be seated. He found himself placed between a pair of elderly men who didn’t speak to him at all. They studied him up and down, and cast glances back and forth. When one of them winked, he leaned forward, very close, and scowled. The man scuttled back and Ronon turned away to hide his grin.

As soon as everyone was seated, a round of appetizers was served. There were small platters stacked with warm, fresh bread, fried vegetables and fish of some sort, and more of the wine they’d been served in the bar. Next they brought out the main course, which was a smorgasbord of scent, color, and style. There were roasts of various types, large bowls of vegetables, exotic fruit, soups and breads and cheese. No matter how many times the wine glasses were filled more appeared as if by magic. It was the sort of feast that Sheppard imagined was usually reserved for royalty, but the citizens of Admah seemed unimpressed.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said, leaning closer to Mara. “Or do you eat this way all the time?”

“We always dine at this time,” Mara said simply. “Remember, we are a people who have dedicated ourselves to excess. Saul goes to a lot of trouble to keep us happy and we have become accustomed to our pleasures. It’s the curse of living too long in isolation. When your options are limited, you spice them up.”

“There’s a question for you,” Sheppard said. “You live in this place, the surface of the moon you’ve attached your city to is barren, and yet you can provide a meal like this? Where does it all come from? Does Saul send teams through the gate to forage? Does he have a way to override the protocols that lock gates out after one dial-in?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mara replied. “I know what that would mean to you, but we have extensive gardens in the lower levels of the city. We raise the animals, grow the vegetables and fruits. It’s become an art form, much like everything else remotely associated with pleasure and entertainment.”

She reached out and trailed her fingers down his arm. “I have to admit though, that while the meal is nothing special, you make a rather pleasant spice.”

Sheppard forced a smile and glanced down the table toward McKay. Rodney had magicked his computer out of nowhere and it was open on the table in front of him. A woman with long platinum blonde hair and green eyeliner leaned over his shoulder on his left, trying to whisper in his ear as he worked. Whatever it was she was saying, he did his best to ignore her, but she was persistent. She ran her index finger up and down his throat, teasing his earlobe and laughing softly. Eventually, Rodney drew back, exasperated.

Across the table and farther down, Teyla had engaged Saul in conversation. He was smiling and speaking expansively while she pretended to sip at her wine and nibbled the food. Sheppard saw that she kept a close eye on those near her, and he smiled. He didn’t have to worry about Teyla letting her guard down, and if anyone could get something useful out of Saul, it was her.

Cumby was talking to a thin woman with so much hair piled on her head that it stretched a foot above her head. He kept glancing up at it, as if afraid it might topple into his food, or fall across his face and smother him. Under different circumstances, it would have been funny.

When Sheppard turned to Ronon he caught the big man’s eyes. Ronon was eating. Of them all, he probably had the most common sense in situations like these. His plate was piled high with a little bit of everything available. He leaned over the table, his elbows planted firmly on either side of his plate, creating as threatening a countenance as possible. He shoveled the food in quickly, using his fingers when possible, and from time to time he glanced in irritation, or distrust, at one or other of the old men beside him. When he saw Sheppard looking at him he nodded toward the hallway leading to their rooms. His eyes were desperate.

At that moment, one of the old men reached out and squeezed Ronon’s bicep. The big man shied away, turning toward the offender and scooping up another bite of the stew he was gulping down.

“I don’t like being separated from my people,” Sheppard said, turning back to Mara. “It makes me nervous.”

“Please,” Mara said, her voice low. “Eat. Later there will be an entertainment. I will see to it that you and your friends are seated together and, when there is more noise to cover our words, we will talk.”

Sheppard met her gaze for a moment and then nodded. He had no choice but to trust her — she was the only one who had told them the truth, and that had to count for something. He turned to his plate and began to eat, keeping one eye on what happened up and down the table as he did so.