Death Game

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The blast from Ronon’s pistol was loud in the confined space, but Radek didn’t cover his ears. He wanted to hear what happened next.

The initial blast, Ronon shooting his way through the false wall, was followed by five sharp shots and then silence. The corridor was full of plaster dust, and pressed against the wall around the corner, Radek wondered what to do next. Unarmed, he was of very little use charging in if there were Wraith. But if Ronon had been stunned, he could not stand by and do nothing. He must do his best to rescue him somehow.

“Zelenka?” Ronon called out softly.

“It is about time,” Radek said, pushing through the plaster dust to the irregularly shaped hole in the false door.

Ronon shrugged, shoving pieces of door out of the way.

“Ah, now this is more like it!” Radek said happily. On the other side of the door was a control room, several banks of monitors and computers half obscured by dust. Two dead Wraith lay on the floor, taken care of by Ronon’s energy pistol. Doubtless they were the technicians who managed the machinery of the maze. Radek sat down before the nearest workstation, lit up with three screens and five or six glittering leads coming in.

“Can you get it to work?” Ronon said, leaning over his shoulder.

“It is already working,” Radek said. His fingers flew over the panels of touch sensitive electrodes that made up a Wraith keyboard. Data was streaming in from dozens of locations. “The problem is getting it to stop.”

“You can figure it out, right?” Ronon sounded worried. Perhaps the screens upon screens of data in Wraith made him a little nervous.

“Of course I can figure it out,” Radek said testily. “But it takes some time. I figured out how the rematerialization phase booster on a Dart worked, didn’t I? Otherwise Rodney and Lt. Cadman would not be alive. But it is not simple or quick. Wraith tech is not intuitive to the human mind.”

“I got that far,” Ronon said. “Can you find Sheppard and Teyla?”

“I am sure that I can in a few minutes.” Radek tried a combination of keys with familiar looking figures, glancing up to see if the display screens changed. They did. One screen showing an empty section of corridor shifted to a view of an empty room with a table and two chairs in it. “Ah!” he said.

“What?” Ronon leaned over, his chin almost on Radek’s shoulder.

“I have found a camera toggle. It changes between different cameras live in the maze. But I do not know how to tell it which ones…” Another touch, and it showed a view of different corridor, a body at the far end lying very still. “I think I am making it cycle through the cameras.”

“Can you get the corridors around us to see if anybody’s coming?”

Radek turned his head and gave Ronon a quelling look over the frames of his glasses. “I can, in time. I do not tell you your business. I do not tell you how to blast things or kick things. Please do not tell me how to do computers! I will work much faster if you will back off and let me.”

Ronon looked abashed. “Ok.” He took a step back. “I’ll just stand here by the door and guard.”

“Thank you,” Radek said, and bent his head to the board. Truly, one would think there was nothing to it, as little respect as his work garnered! Why there is nothing more simple than to crack an alien computer system in an unintelligible language in order to gain access to the security systems of a large complex!

A combination of touches brought up what must be another menu. Some of the labels were plain enough, even with the very limited Wraith vocabulary that Dr. Weir had worked out. Some were similar to the controls of the Wraith Dart that he had worked on, as little as there had been of that left. The cockpit interfaces had been almost destroyed.

But yet there were some things that made sense. Lights must control the artificial lighting in the maze, presumably leading to a submenu that broke lighting out into locations. Water? That was mysterious, but presumably the complex had plumbing. Steam? Perhaps he was not reading that right. Or perhaps the contestants were in worse trouble than he had imagined.

“Perhaps if we go around the pool,” Teyla said, “We might be able to get up on one of the ledges on the other side.”

John squinted across the dimly lit water. “I don’t think it’s any better over there. The walls are pretty steep. And the water’s awfully cold.”

Teyla thought that he might be shivering, though he tried his best to hide it. A long swim in icy water was not exactly what the doctor ordered for a man with a head injury. Swimming across the pool would chill him to the bone again, and in truth the sides of the pond did not look any easier to climb over there. All of the ledges on that side looked as though they were at least ten feet above the water. If they gave onto corridors that was all very well, but she did not see how they would get up to them. “I suppose we could go back down the drain and try the door again,” she said.

The alternative was to sit right here, trapped on this ledge, until the games ended and the Wraith came to round up the losers. That also seemed like a bad plan. Going back down the drain involved another plunge into the icy water, but the room below seemed warmer. Even if they could not get the door open, it might be a better place to be stuck. And perhaps they would find a way to get the door open in time.

“Sheppard!”

Teyla’s head jerked up.

Jitrine stood on the ledge above them with a torch in her hand. She turned and looked back down the corridor. “They’re here,” she called excitedly to someone. “Come on!” In a moment Nevin and Suua hurried out onto the ledge.

“What the hell?” John said to Teyla.

She shrugged. “I do not know.”

“We found you!” Jitrine said triumphantly. “We knew if we followed the water we would find you eventually.”

Suua began lowering down a rope ladder made of the ropes from the bridge. His hair was plastered wetly to his head, and his clothes were dripping. “Come on up,” he said with a grin.

Teyla began laboriously to climb up. Without the rope ladder it would be impossible, and as it was it was both difficult and painful.

“Why did you look for us?” John said, a note of genuine confusion in his voice.

Jitrine reached down to put her hand beneath Teyla’s good shoulder and help her up. “Did you think that after you had fought on our behalf we would desert you?”

“Kind of, yeah,” John said.

Jitrine gave him a stern look. “You have much to learn of Pelagia, Sheppard. You underestimate us.”

“A hero’s got to have friends, right?” Nevin piped up. “Those guys who are in the story too.”

John looked abashed. “Thanks,” he said.

Suua gave him a hand up the last few feet. “No problem,” he said. “We’re going to get out of here, right?”

“Right,” John said. “And when we’ve shut this place down, we’ll get you home to your wife and daughter. I promise.”

“Then we have a deal,” Suua said, and shook John’s offered hand.

Teyla blinked. It was like him to remember Suua’s family, in case he needed to know that. But then she had seen him send far too many messages to families, messages to break hearts and rend lives.

She turned instead to Jitrine. “How did you get across the stream?”

“After you and Sheppard were swept away the men on the other bank laughed at us, saying we would never get across and we had lost already. We waited until they left, and then Suua swam across. He threw the ropes back for us, and Nevin and I crossed on them,” Jitrine explained. Her face was serene, as though she had never had any doubts that Suua, who had so lately attacked them himself, would keep his promise to throw the ropes to them once he was across. Perhaps it would have made no difference, and Jitrine would have stayed with Nevin regardless. Or perhaps she truly had never had any doubts.

“After that Jitrine said we needed to follow the water,” Nevin said brightly. “She said that it all flowed downhill, and that we needed to get to the place where it came out. That all cisterns have a basin.”

Teyla looked at Jitrine in surprise.

“I am a Pelagian scientist,” Jitrine said firmly. “Do you think we do not have cisterns and sewers? Do you think I have no idea how they work?”

“Of course not,” Teyla said. Perhaps John was not the only one to underestimate the Pelagians. Perhaps she had, too.

“How did you get here?” John asked. “Do you know where these corridors go?” He craned his neck, looking back in the direction they had come.

“There are many corridors back there,” Suua said. “It seemed like they were coming together, but we heard the running water so we backtracked up one of them until we found this ledge.”

“We came out first on the other side,” Nevin said helpfully, “And we saw you, but we couldn’t get across.”

“That was you?” John said.

Jitrine nodded. “So we backtracked and found another way down. I think Suua is right. The maze is converging. I think we are coming to the end, or at least to some major obstacle that they wish all contenders to face.”

“Great,” John said. “The big monster.”

Teyla looked at him swiftly. “The big monster?”

“There’s always one,” John said. “The big guy with all the hit points. The penultimate challenge of manhood and strength, an epic adventure the like of which has never been seen before!”

“Why has your voice gotten funny like that?” Teyla asked.

John dipped his head. “It was like a dramatic voice over. In a preview. Oh, never mind…”

“You mean when it says, ‘Next week on Star Trek, Jean-Luc Picard takes his shirt off?” Teyla asked. She could not help breaking into a broad smile. No matter how cold and wet and hungry and miserable they were, she could always rely on John to keep everyone moving by whatever means worked best. It took a great deal to dampen his spirits. He was, perhaps, the most resilient man she had ever met.

“Yeah, like that,” John said. “But I don’t think they actually say the part about the shirt. And there’s always a plot-related reason for it. Like he’s dead for the fourteenth time or something, or he’s about to be impregnated by shrimp.”

“That observation is very meta,” Teyla said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Suua said. “Again.”

“This is the witty banter,” John said. “I don’t know why, but she likes it.”

Jitrine looked at Teyla seriously, though a smile played about the corners of her mouth. “I see why you do not marry him.”

Teyla shrugged. “There is only so much of this one can take.”

“The big monster,” Suua said. “Is there really a monster, do you think?”

“If there is, we’ll take care of it,” John said. “Can’t be much in here you and me can’t handle, right?”

Suua nodded seriously. “That’s true.”

Teyla bit her lip, refraining from saying, ‘Except about forty Wraith!’ That would be extremely counterproductive. John was doing a fine job of countering the strangeness and spookiness of the labyrinth with humor, and it would not be a good idea to deflate him. Especially as the one most in need of something to keep him going with was probably John. He ought to be lying down resting, not swimming across icy streams and climbing walls.

“Onward and downward then!” He took the torch from Jitrine and started down the corridor, back into the heart of the maze, leaving wet footprints on the floor of the corridor behind him. His boots made a distinct squishing noise.

Suua came just behind him. “To the left,” Suua said. “And then down the stairs. That’s where we came from before we doubled back here to come to the water.”

“Got it,” John said. “Teyla, on six.”

She took up her usual place in the rear, behind Nevin, who turned and smiled at her. “Do you want this back?” He held out her jacket, the one she had shed before leaping in the stream after John.

“Yes, thank you so much,” Teyla said, taking it and putting it on. It was warm and dry, and she felt it improve her morale on the spot.

Ahead, John froze silhouetted against the faint light that came around the corner from the corridor ahead.

“Shhhh,” Teyla whispered to Nevin, who had begun to say something. She held up a warning finger as they all came to a halt.

John looked back at her, meeting her eyes, and passed the torch to Suua. He was going ahead to scout.

From around the corner ahead came a scarlet glow, as though there was a vast inferno. Or a bunch of red lights. Teyla shook her head. These kind of mindgames with the credulous were so characteristic of the Wraith, who loved to torment their prey.

Anger began a slow burn in her belly. Anger is good, she thought. Anger keeps you strong. Anger makes you warm.

John slipped off down the corridor ahead, a dark shadow against the ruby light. It was some minutes before he returned, and when he did he herded them all back up the corridor and behind the first turn.

“What is it?” Teyla whispered.

“The big monster,” John said grimly.