Brimstone

Chapter Twenty-six

Zelenka sat hunched over his console, his fingers operating the controls delicately. On the monitor, the signal he’d discovered danced in and out of a larger sine wave pattern. Meticulously, he removed one frequency at a time, checking it against the earlier signals that had not contained the static. He needed to use the original as a filter, remove everything that was not the static and leave behind only the new, odd signal.

As time passed, he intensified his concentration. He didn’t know how he knew but somehow he did — Rodney was behind this. That stray bit of frequency shift held some sort of message, or a clue how to help, and Zelenka was determined to figure out what it was. He wouldn’t have admitted it if challenged, but half the reason he was so determined was that he didn’t want anyone saying Rodney had sent him a message he wasn’t capable of deciphering.

He turned a final knob very slowly. The signal wavered, and then the background carrier disappeared.

“Yes!” he said.

He pulled back quickly, saved the signal, and transferred it to another screen. His fingers trembled as he started to play the signal through. The screen immediately filled with a short burst of text, followed by numbers. Zelenka read, memorized, and then transferred the message to Woolsey’s terminal. Before the transfer was complete, he’d turned away and was on the move.

Woolsey looked up as Zelenka burst through his door, hair wilder than normal and eyes wide.

“Did you see?”

“See what? You could have — ”

“We don’t have time,” Zelenka interrupted.

Woolsey sat back, confused. “We don’t have time for what?”

“On your terminal. I’ve sent you a file,” Zelenka said. “Rodney found a way to get through. He sent us a message and coordinates. We have to start.”

Frowning, Woolsey turned to his terminal. He found the message Zelenka had sent, opened it, and read quickly. He didn’t pause to memorize.

“Mobilize the backup team. Get extra security up to join them. We don’t know what might be waiting on the other side of that gate.”

“Yes sir,” Zelenka turned and disappeared.

Woolsey sat a moment, watching the empty doorway, and then turned to his console. He keyed communications system and waited a moment.

“Yes sir?” a voice reported immediately.

“Have you had any luck reaching the Daedelus?”

“Yes sir. They have received your message and they have altered course. They have informed us that it is unlikely they will be able to reach Admah before it is destroyed, but they are making all possible speed for the attempt.”

“Thank you.” Woolsey said, disconnecting the communicator and rising slowly.

Straightening the papers on his desk, he stepped out of his office and into the passageway beyond. He picked up speed as he made his way toward the control room, and by the time he reached the elevator and the final hatch his expression was resolute. There would be very little time for consultation or discussion. He was going to have to direct the coming operation, and whatever the outcome he was going to have to take responsibility. He knew the regulations, and he knew the laws and codes behind them. When he’d first come to Atlantis, he’d believed this to be more than adequate — the perfect qualification for command.

At that moment, however, stepping into the control room and finding himself the focus of all those on the backup team, those at the control consoles, and those who had gathered to lend their support, he understood what Colonel Sheppard must feel every time he led his team through the Stargate. The responsibility was total.

Woolsey moved quickly and with as much confidence as he could muster to the DHD, where Zelenka and a couple of lab assistants were gathered. “Do you have the coordinates?”

“Yes,” Zelenka said. “We don’t have much information on the world on the far side. Rodney’s message said he can’t be certain it will support life, but it must have supported some type of life at one point, or there wouldn’t be a gate. He gave no more detail and there’s no time to send a MALP…”

Woolsey cut him off. “Is the team ready?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then let’s get this operation underway.” Woolsey turned to where the team waited, their equipment packed and ready and their eyes bright.

“Normally, I would be the last person to send you blind into a new world,” he said. “But today we have no choice. Major Lorne?”

Lorne stepped forward with a crisp salute. “Sir.”

“Take up a secure position around the gate and wait,” Woolsey said. “You’ll be on your own until Colonel Sheppard dials in from Admah.”

“Understood, sir.” Lorne replied. “We’ll bring them back.”

Woolsey nodded. “I know you will, Major. Good luck.” He turned to Zelenka. “Ready?”

“Ready sir.”

Zelenka began to dial. The symbols lit and came to life, one character at a time, and after a moment the space in the circle grew brighter, and the gate surged open. The event horizon shivered, and then settled.

The team stood for just a moment, watching it, and then they moved forward, one after the other, plunging into the wormhole and disappearing from sight. When the last of them had passed through and the gate had closed, Zelenka turned to Woolsey. The two men held one another’s gaze for a long moment, then turned in opposite directions and walked away.”