Exogenesis

Chapter Twelve

Conflicting instincts warred in John's mind as Elizabeth asked and Caldwell commanded Jumper One to return. Learning that Rodney had been taken by a Wraith beam changed the picture considerably, in spite of what Vend had said about his condition. As badly as John wanted to stay on Polrusso and search for Rodney, Teyla was in just as much danger on the mainland. With two missing teammates pulling him in different directions, he decided to head for Atlantis. They needed Radek there, and John could return to Polrusso and begin the search after getting up to speed on the situation back home. The jumper's dialer would allow him to establish an outgoing wormhole without need for the main computer.

Assuming, of course, that he could still fly at that point. Although sitting down seemed to improve matters, his balance was off and getting worse. He'd never been prone to vertigo, but his ear was aching mercilessly, and he was beginning to suspect that the sand was somehow to blame.

On the other side of the event horizon everything seemed to tilt, and he drew in a sharp breath, grateful for the jumper's 'gatelinked autopilot. When he managed to focus again he saw that the control room doors to the balcony were open and giant fans had been set up to remove the sand. A half-dozen personnel in HAZMAT suits wandered through the contaminated area, working on the controls.

While the autopilot smoothly lifted them into the jumper bay, John shut his eyes, gathering himself for a moment before selecting a berth for Jumper One. The bay had remained relatively sand-free, and so Elizabeth was waiting for them, surrounded by a throng of scientists.

"I believe this is my cue." Radek stood up from the copilot's seat, his eyes narrowing worriedly when John didn't follow.

John turned in his seat, but indicated he should leave first. "Be there in a minute."

The moment the hatch opened, Radek got mobbed. Ronon stood back, one eyebrow cocked at the free-for-all. The Czech couldn't even finish answering a question before someone else broke in with what John supposed was a more urgent request. Even through an ear that felt stuffed with steel wool, he could hear enough of the various subjects to know that they'd get nothing accomplished this way.

At last, Radek had had enough. "Ticho, debilove! Quiet! No wonder Rodney rails at you so!"

The effect was instantaneous. Silence fell, and John, who had by now carefully made his way to the rear of the jumper, realized just how much losing Rodney had shaken them all. Present tense, he noted. Did Radek believe Rodney might still be alive, too`? Or was John reading way too much into one word?

Elizabeth, who was hovering by the rear hatch, took the opportunity to restore order. "There are a lot of important issues to deal with, everyone. I trust Dr. Zelenka to assign the appropriate priority to each of them. Please get him up to speed-one person at a time."

The jumper bay doors opened to admit Colonel Caldwell. Figuring he'd better report to his superior, John started to disembark from the jumper, only to stagger as he stepped through the hatch. Again, Ronon steadied him.

Damn it, I do not need this right now. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to get his balance. Pain was radiating down through his jaw; it felt like somebody had punched him when he wasn't looking.

Concern was immediately evident in Elizabeth's bearing. She approached him, saying something he couldn't make out.

"What?"

"Are you all right?" she repeated.

"Yeah, just got a little rocked by the transit" Aware of how flimsy it sounded, he immediately turned to Caldwell. "How did Teyla get left behind on the mainland?"

"It was her choice. She understood that we had to leave and asked to continue the search for the rest of the Athosians." Caldwell's lips compressed in regret, but he also looked resigned to that decision. "We'll go back for them if at all possible, but right now we have more immediate priorities."

John nodded, realizing a half-second too late that any such movement was a bad idea. "One of those priorities needs to be me going back to Polmsso. It's possible that Rodney's still alive."

Elizabeth's eyes flared wide. "How can that be?"

"Apparently the villagers saw one of the local Wraith beam him onto a Dart." John leaned on the extended drive pod of Jumper Eight, currently down for maintenance, and willed his head to get its act together. "From what the Elders said, I didn't get the feeling that the hive was awake, just that a few Darts go out on occasional snack runs during the storms"

"If the Wraith have McKay, they may know about Atlantis by now." Caldwell looked none too thrilled with that possibility.

"Not necessarily. The villager said that Rodney was barely alive when he was taken."

`But the Wraith need healthy victims."

"Which means they might not feed off Rodney right away, or even at all. They might put him in one of those damned cocoons, dump him in a corner, and leave him to a slow and agonizing death." Elizabeth's horrified reaction told John he was hitting below the belt, but being delicate wouldn't serve anyone's purposes right now.

Caldwell was studying him a little too carefully. "Colonel, forgive me for sounding skeptical, but this seems like a risk we may not be able to take. For starters, you don't appear to be in any condition to lead a rescue mission."

"I just need a couple hours of sleep-"

"John, you're white as a sheet and barely upright," Elizabeth cut him off gently. "And your face and ear look… Well, you certainly need medical attention."

"Given the situation here," the Daedalus commander continued, "we're not in a position to go mounting an attack on a hive ship. An attempted extraction would most likely awaken the hive, and they'd be apt to finish the job the exogenesis machine started on Atlantis."

"This is not necessarily true," countered Radek. John hadn't noticed him break free from the science team, but the Czech now came over to join them. "We can still carry out the original plan to acquire the ZPMs and simultaneously flood the Wraith ship. But if I am to do this, I will need to return to the planet as soon as we have taken care of the worst of Atlantis's problems."

Elizabeth held up a hand to slow him down. "I understand the urgency here, but I need more information. What would be the impact to the Polrussons? You said they needed time to complete their move."

"They'll move fast enough now." That statement came from Ronon, and received a look of mild suspicion from Atlantis's leader.

Even talking was starting to hurt, but the anger John still felt toward Vend and his people spurred him on. "It took far more than it should have to get the Polrussons to be honest with us about the Wraith. Given the way we had to drag the information out of them, and the way we left, they have to assume that we've gone for good. When we go back, we can tell them that we'll only help if we're allowed to release the water now, because we're as worried about the Wraith threat as they feared. While Radek gets everything set up, we'll have the opportunity to take a team in to extract Rodney."

Caldwell didn't appear convinced. He turned to Radek. "How confident are you that we'll be able to acquire the ZPMs and flood the Wraith ship?"

The scientist's brief hesitation put the differences between Rodney and Radek into sharp relief. "I cannot guarantee," he replied truthfully. "We must remember that a hive ship is indeed a ship, and has the capability to seal itself against water as it does against the vacuum of space. Still, Atlantis was submerged for a purpose. Perhaps the Wraith do not like water. But whatever the reason, we can only work to minimize the time the Wraith will have to recognize the threat and defend themselves or escape."

"What's your plan for shutting down the terraforming system and collecting the ZPMs?" Elizabeth asked.

In response, Radek withdrew his laptop from his pack and quickly called up a schematic. From what John could see through a fog of pain, it was a diagram of the ZPM locations on Polrusso. "The ZPMs form a type of power matrix across the surface of the planet. If we go by jumper to remove them sequentially from the matrix, the remaining units will attempt to compensate, and the system will weaken. We will remove the first ZPM from the area where we wish the force field to fail initially, but this does not assure that the water will rush out at once. It may do this, but equally it may take days or even weeks for the water pressure to break through the rock holding it back." Radek pushed his glasses up on his nose. "It may also still be possible for me to locate the second exogenesis machine. This I cannot promise, either, but if there is time-"

"Time we can only buy ourselves by doing everything in our power not to alert the Wraith," Caldwell interrupted.

Radek's head bobbed readily. "Hopefully by then we will have acquired sufficient ZPMs to power the city shield, against the Wraith as well as the nanites. That will give us time to repair the Daedalus."

Even before Caldwell spoke, John knew he wasn't going to like what he heard. "If you go barging into that hive ship now, the Wraith will be all over you before you can blink, and we'll kiss off any chance of acquiring even one of those ZPMs."

"Not necessarily," John insisted. "We've learned a lot about the layout inside those ships. And if we do wake them up, we can go for some of the furthest ZPMs right away, before they can stop us."

"You don't know that you'll make it."

"You don't know that we won't!"

"Gentlemen." Elizabeth sounded utterly torn.

John felt for her, but there was nothing he could do to make this easier.

"Our best chance to save the most people is to initiate Radek's plan," she said at last. "With any luck, we'll also be able to find the second exogenesis machine and bring it back here, but that must be our secondary priority"

"Understood. Radek, is two hours enough-" John's world tilted again. By the time he managed to straighten up, four pairs of eyes were watching him with varying degrees of alarm and doubt.

"Major Lome's team will go," Caldwell concluded. "You, Colonel, need to face facts and go see Dr. Beckett. You're injured, and you'd be a liability out there."

The sick feeling that settled in his gut had nothing to do with the sand or the pain, and everything to do with a disturbing sense of deja vu. John looked to Elizabeth. "You're not going to let Lome search for Rodney, are you?"

"John, we have to be realistic. The odds-"

"Since when has this expedition relied on the odds?" he demanded. "I recognize that Rodney's chances aren't good. But as long as there is a chance, don't we have an obligation to try?"

"Don't think that I like this any better than you." Elizabeth sighed. "God knows we can't afford to lose Rodney. But it's overwhelmingly likely that he is dead. It's my call, and with this level of risk I can't allow a rescue mission to proceed."

Starting to feel a flicker of desperation, John held her gaze. "You once asked me to tell you if I thought you were making a mistake," he said quietly, remembering the mission that had followed the long-past storm. "I'm telling you now."

Her eyes held endless empathy but also resolve. "The answer's no. I'm sorry."

And there it was. "You're sorry," he repeated, not bothering to mask the edge of contempt in his voice. "I feel better already."

Elizabeth flinched, but didn't falter. Caldwell moved in front of her, arms folded over his chest. "In case I wasn't clear before, Lieutenant Colonel, you're to stand down and report to the infirmary immediately."

Before John could figure out how to respond, Ronon stepped up beside him, staring the older man down. "You told me your people placed high importance on your loyalty to your comrades, Sheppard."

Bristling, Caldwell drew himself taller. "I don't like what you're implying."

John knew he should shut Ronon up before this got ugly, but he was too pissed off and too wrung out to try.

"I don't care what you like. I don't like leaving my teammates to suffer and die!"

"You are way out of line, Specialist!"

"Don't use my rank like it means something to you," the Satedan growled. "I didn't take your army's oath. You don't get to decide where my line is."

"Maybe not." Still as stoic as ever, Caldwell signaled to the Marines standing guard in the corridor. "Confine this man to his quarters until further notice," he ordered. "This much I do get to decide."

"Hold on a minute," John objected, only to feel Caldwell's iron gaze fall on him next.

"Infirmary, Sheppard. And under no circumstances are you to leave until cleared by Beckett."

Out of the comer of his eye, John saw another pair of Marines inching toward him. This day just kept getting better and better. "Is this a joke, sir?"

"Put yourself in my place, handling someone with a record that reads like yours," Caldwell said, unmoved.

So, because he'd bucked orders in a similar situation before, that justified preemptive confinement`? What the hell kind of ship did this guy run? John stared at Elizabeth, willing her to stand up for him. "You're going along with this?" he accused.

"I hope Rodney can forgive me," she said softly. "But if it keeps you from blindly tilting at windmills, then yes, I am."

The feeling was familiar, and yet infinitely more of a betrayal. "Well, this has been… educational."

His body turned traitor next as a rush of dizziness sideswiped him, dropping him awkwardly to one knee. Elizabeth took a step toward him, but he pinned her with a fierce glare and staggered to his feet unassisted. With as much dignity as he could summon, he turned and started toward the infirmary, the two Marines moving to flank him as he went.

Without blinking Corletti accepted the dried meat Jinto offered her. "Good stuff," she proclaimed after taking a bite. "Best jerky ever."

"Jerky." Sitting cross-legged at the top of the jumper's open hatch, Jinto tested out the unfamiliar word. "What does it mean?"

"Um… To tell you the truth, kiddo, I don't actually know."

Teyla smiled as she finished binding Niva's leg wound. They had reached the jumper and taken it back down into the hunting camp. Clearing skies and the discovery of food and drink in the camp had improved the immediate situation measurably. The nearby mountains, though, were a testament to the power of Ea's exogenesis machine. They were being steadily torn apart in a series of landslides, evidenced by an almost continuous rumble in the air. The group had been fortunate to escape more than one close call on their journey down.

If hunting had been their goal today, their bounty would have been great. She watched as many animals, sensing the terror to come, picked their way across the mudslide that had enveloped part of the camp. Overhead, thousands of birds fled the area as well.

"Oughta think about building them an ark," Corletti said, half to herself. Teyla did not bother to question the meaning of the comment, and the Marine headed into the jumper's cockpit and activated the radio. "Atlantis, this is Jumper Three report ing in. You guys forgotten about us yet?"

"Not a chance, Jumper Three," a tech responded. "Stand by while I get Dr. Weir."

Only moments passed before Dr. Weir's voice came on the line. "It's good to hear from you, Lieutenant. What's your status?"

"Ma'am, the good news is that we've rounded up all the Athosians and made it back to the main camp. The bad news is that we can see the beginning of the nanite influx, and it's moving fast."

Beneath them, Teyla felt a reverberation through the ground. Not a tremor, but the hooves of many large-bodied grazing beasts stampeding through already churned soil. Even from this distance she could see the vapor puffing from their wide nostrils and the fear in the way they snapped at one another even as they ran. She slid into the copilot's seat to listen to the conversation. Outside the windshield the gray continued its relentless progress. It would not be long now before they were engulfed, but she would not give up hope.

"The jumper's not exactly firing on all cylinders," Corletti continued. "And I don't like our chances of making it to Atlantis. Can you spare a technical specialist to talk us through some troubleshooting?"

"I'll get someone to assist." Dr. Weir paused. "You realize, though, that-"

"Yes, ma'am." Corletti shared a look with Teyla, unnoticed by Jinto only a short distance away. Both women understood that even if they could get the jumper operational, returning to Atlantis would risk infecting the city. "Our goal is to move to another area of the mainland, farther away from the nanites. If we can buy ourselves a day or two, the brain trust back on Atlantis should be able to figure something out."

Teyla wasn't sure if the Marine's words stemmed from true optimism or from a desire to put forward a brave face. She chose to believe it was the former, but she felt a renewed sadness as she remembered that any solution the expedition might devise would have to be reached without its chief scientist.

Watching from the doorway while Radek Zelenka simultaneously tackled a dozen problems from a dozen people, Elizabeth was struck by the sharp contrast between his working approach and Rodney's. Radek's quiet, competent manner was a stabilizing influence, but it was clear that he was becoming overextended. He worked more slowly, more methodically, and was less inclined to take risks. Seeing him in action now highlighted all the reasons why he and Rodney had complemented each other so well.

Radek looked up and, noticing that she was waiting, lifted an open hand toward her. "You are in need of updates," he guessed.

"I'm afraid so." Readying herself for bad news due to sheer habit, Elizabeth entered the room and leaned her forearms on the lab bench. "The star drive?"

Immediately he shook his head. "I wish I could say differently, but it cannot be done. Given the problems I have already seen, not to mention the others that surely exist, Atlantis is simply not capable of space travel in its current state"

Against her better judgment, she allowed a rueful smile to slip free. "Rodney wouldn't have said that."

"No, he would not," Radek admitted. "But neither would he have succeeded with the repairs."

She wanted to believe that, but the uncertainty fed into other doubts. She'd been questioning her decision not to mount a rescue mission almost from the moment it had been made. Not because of John; although she understood that the situation had to be tweaking all of his Afghanistan-related defenses, he was clearly too sick to lead such a mission. Ronon and a team of Marines might still be able to bring Rodney home, but at what cost? And what would be left of him if they found him?

Right now, survival for as many as possible was Elizabeth's only goal. Anything else had to come second. Her com alerted her to the check-in from Jumper Three, and Radek listened in, looking progressively tenser, while Lieutenant Corletti described the situation on the mainland.

"We can wait no longer," Radek said regretfully, covering his microphone with his hand. "If the nanites have appeared on the surface, I must reconfigure the city's shield and boost power to it immediately. We have no way of knowing if or when they will become airborne. When that occurs, it will still be several hours before they can reach Atlantis, of course, but we must act now to be certain."

The consequences of that proposal hung like a solid weight around her neck. While Radek expertly multitasked, packing equipment and rattling off instructions to other scientists and, at the same time, explaining to Corletti how to reroute the auxiliary power systems in the jumper, Elizabeth sank into a chair. The other jumpers' DHDs afforded them the ability to dial out to the Alpha site, but it still remained a race against time.

Vaguely aware that the many scientists, engineers and technicians in the room were looking to her for a decision, for leadership, she lifted her chin and gave the order that would result in a death sentence for those left on the mainland. "Reconfigure the shield."

Radek went to the computer and typed in his access code. "It will have to be at full strength. Rodney is-was-correct. We cannot risk allowing anything to enter, not even air. At this rate our ZPM will be depleted very quickly. I must get back to Polrusso and make preparations for obtaining at least one more."

Elizabeth nodded and watched him go, feeling a creeping sense of despair and a weariness deeper than she'd ever known.

Midway through the fifteenth straight hour of tending to the injured Athosians on the Daedalus and the control room personnel on Atlantis, it occurred to Carson that the entire expedition was now engaged in a form of triage. Everyone was attempting to treat the most critical issues first, keeping the city alive for as long as possible. It wasn't the most eloquent metaphor ever dreamed up, but he couldn't be faulted for being a bit sleep-deprived.

After checking on the control room techs again, he'd hoped to retreat to the relative safety of his office and rest his eyes for a few minutes. Then two Marines had all but carried in an ashen Colonel Sheppard, and suddenly Carson was putting the Ancient equivalent of an MRI machine into service.

When the results of the scan appeared on the screen, Carson had to fight to rein in the despondency that threatened to surface. Certainly he'd been the bearer of considerably worse news in his career as a doctor, but this was one diagnosis he dreaded giving.

The sand had done extraordinary damage to the Colonel's middle ear and sinus cavities — it was a wonder that the man had stayed on his feet as long as he had. From the evidence, Carson could only theorize that the residual properties of the iratus retrovirus in Sheppard's system had somehow stopped the caustic substance from reaching his brain. Either fate or coincidence had prompted a virus that had once nearly killed him to save his life now, but it still felt like a cruel trick. The pain, severe though it surely was, would be treatable. The vertigo would be a bit more complex-but…

Given the physical and mental gauntlet Carson had run over the past couple of days, he'd almost expected to hit his breaking point sooner or later. This might just be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Outside, the nanites had begun their destruction. Inside the city, people he called friends were injured or dead. All of it a consequence of events set in motion by his own hands. The ravaged face and utterly destroyed eyesight of that poor lad from the control room, the Athosian woman whose leg had been so badly mangled-God, an entire planet brought to ruin. Had he really expected to be able to sleep after seeing that? Or ever again?

"Carson."

Sheppard rarely called him by his first name, and it swiftly brought him out of his introspection. As directed, the Colonel had hardly moved since settling on the bed, to mitigate the pain as well as to facilitate the scan. Now he only turned his head far enough to better listen with his good ear. "Cut it out"

With false cheer, Carson said, "And what is it you'd like me to cut out, Colonel?"

"You know what I mean. Quit thinking that what's happening is your fault. It isn't-none of it."

He sighed. "That's all very well to say, but it's hard to get around the simple cause-and-effect nature of it all."

"Yeah, I know. Remember, I'm the one who kept skulking around here after Ronon got shot" Sheppard looked at him intently, not letting him off the hook. "You don't owe anyone any apologies. You couldn't have done anything to stop Ea."

And that was the heart of it. Carson badly wanted to believe that, but one thing held him back. "I could have stayed away from that pod."

"Yeah, you could have. But you're a doctor," Sheppard said, as if it explained everything. Someday, perhaps, that sentiment might not ring so hollow.

Trying to regain his professionalism, Carson stepped closer to the bed. "You may not feel so sympathetic when you hear your diagnosis."

Although the pilot's expression didn't noticeably change, the openness he'd shown only moments ago suddenly vanished. "Hit me."

"There's a fair bit of damage. A lot of it can be rectified with surgery, and we can manage the vertigo with medication until then. As for your hearing…I'm not a specialist, but I believe a cochlear implant would help you regain enough to meet the military's medical standards."

A flash of unbridled anguish tightened Sheppard's features as the implications became clear. "Doc, you know what the limits are for the flight physical."

"Aye. I'm so sorry, John."

The Colonel closed his eyes. A familiar mask of control slid into place within seconds, but its edges were frayed. "Can you get me on my feet to go back to Polrusso?"

Carson hesitated, not sure he'd made himself clear. "Right now, lad, I don't think you'd be able to fly even as a passenger. The worst of the inflammation will subside in time, but only in the event of an evacuation would I want you going through the 'gate. Just rest here for a while. If the pain gets too bad, or you start to feel any nausea, let me know so we can adjust the meds."

With a quick, awkward pat to Sheppard's shoulder, he moved away, sure the other man wouldn't want anyone hovering while he came to terms with the shattering blow he'd just been dealt. Before Carson could leave the room, though, Sheppard spoke up again. "Just for the record, this isn't your fault, either."

Turning back, Carson asked, "Then whose, Colonel?"

Sheppard stared up at the ceiling, his eyes lifeless. "Does it matter?"

That point, at least, Carson was forced to concede. He'd never doubted his decision to join the expedition before this. Maybe in time, the doubts would fade, but right now he wondered if the risks they'd taken had ever been worthwhile.

"Next you must reconnect the tertiary data bus-third crystal from the left."

Teyla followed Dr. Zelenka's instructions precisely, determined to leave no room for error. Across from her, Corletti was standing on one of the rear seats to gain better access to the bank of Ancient crystals. "Dr. Z, which one was the grounding slot again?"

"Top compartment, all the way to the rear," the scientist replied patiently.

"Okay." Corletti tossed a sheepish smile over her shoulder as she reached in with her good arm. "I keep forgetting which ones I'm not supposed to move, and I don't want to fry us."

The Marine didn't show it, of course, but Teyla knew she had to be running on her last reserves of energy. Facing a seemingly endless series of challenges had drained them all, in spirit as well as physically. Still, no one had mentioned the end-of-life ritual since Halting's comment hours ago, and she refused to consider it herself. While they had the jumper, there still was a chance. A brief glance outside told her that it was slim. "What next?"

"That was the last reroute," replied Zelenka. "You may try the start sequence now."

"All right! Let's do this thing." Corletti climbed down and headed for the cockpit. "Powering up" She placed her hand over the panel and slid it forward.

The expected hum of energy never came. The pilot let loose with a string of curses that only ceased when she noticed Jinto listening in from outside the open hatch. "Dr. Z?"

"I have gone through the entire auxiliary power system schematic." Zelenka sounded almost as frustrated as Corletti. "Perhaps there is more damage than we anticipated."

Dropping into her seat with a groan, Corletti pushed back the strands of dark hair that had escaped from her braid. "It's the Ancient equivalent of a battery pack. Maybe it has a loose lead somewhere."

"Teyla!" Halling rushed to the hatch, the others hurriedly gathering their belongings behind him. "The gray now streams down the hills like water. It will be here momentarily." The look in his eyes warned her that they had run out of time. "The ceremony. If not for yourself, then do not deny it to Jinto."

Going to investigate, Teyla came to the rear of the jumper and looked outside. As she suspected, even were they to run, they would soon be outpaced, for the grayness moved like nothing she had ever encountered. It was not alive, and yet it held a malevolence that she could not define. She watched in repugnance as it easily overtook a herd of unfortunate animals attempting to flee before its relentless path. Their squeals of terror brought cries from those on the far side of the jumper who also watched. Within seconds the carnage was assimilated into the amorphous gray substance.

"Teyla?" Halling's voice was insistent. "We must begin now, with or without you."

"You must do what you think is best, but I will not give up so easily." Meeting the eyes of several, she then went back inside to the cockpit.

"Teyla!" She heard Halling's footsteps inside the jumper, and then felt his hand on her shoulder. "You need this, perhaps more than we, to make peace with yourself. There is no more time."

She turned to confront him. The plea in his eyes, Teyla knew, was out of concern for her, and yet for some reason it felt wrong. Before her stood a man she had known all of her life, calm in the face of impending death, preparing himself for that final, inevitable journey. Behind her in the pilot's seat, Lieutenant Corletti was equally calm, but determinedly refusing to give up. The Marine would not abandon her efforts until the grayness swept over her.

In that brief moment, Teyla understood that the genes bequeathed to her by generations long past, generations before the Wraith had even become as they were, had traveled to a distant galaxy in the bodies of the Ancestors and bred a world of humans who refused to surrender in the face of adversity. Neither Corletti nor Hailing was right or wrong, but Teyla knew now that a part of her was from both worlds. The ritual was a good and necessary ceremony-but it was one that should only be undertaken by those who were ready to die.

Glancing firstly through the rear hatch and then the windshield, she saw that the gray had now surrounded their elevated position on a hillock. Teyla turned her attention to the power unit and said, "And I am not yet ready to die." When Corletti tossed her a grim look, she added, "Perhaps a variation on the procedure you employed earlier?" She directed a well-placed kick into the side of the unit. The jumper hummed to life.

"Oo-rah!" Corletti beamed at her. "You just earned yourself an honorary commission as a Marine."

Dashing to the hatch, Teyla beckoned the rest of the group inside. The jumper soon filled with refugees, far more than she had ever seen the craft hold, for the last of her people, the two she had thought lost to the river the previous night, had finally staggered into the camp. The gray death pursued them relentlessly, drawing ever nearer as everyone piled inside. As soon as the last person stepped aboard, Corletti yanked the jumper off the ground, not waiting for the hatch to fully close. Just before it sealed, Teyla caught a chilling glimpse of a filament of gray only a body length away.

"Atlantis, Jumper Three is airborne," Corletti reported, her tone a mixture of relief and exuberance.

"Good work, very good work. And your jumper-starting secret is safe with me." There was a hint of a smile in Zelenka's voice, but it soon faded. "I only wish I could tell you to come home."

"It's okay, Dr. Z. We can outrun this crap for a while"

This time Teyla was sure the confidence in the young woman's voice rang of false bravado, but it had an effect on Halling and the others, for there was no more talk of rituals.

"I must return to Polrusso now," Zelenka informed them. "When I come back, I will have the means to stop this monstrous thing."

"We'll hold you to that. Safe trip."

The jumper climbed, and Teyla looked through the windshield at the astonishing sight below. The grayness had spread outward from its starting place up in the mountains, leveling everything in its path. It now flowed like water through and over the riverbanks, perhaps using the speed of the river itself to facilitate its progress. At the rate it now traveled the planet would surely be overwhelmed in days.

"Lieutenant!" Zelenka's animated voice broke in again, startling them. A few rapid words about halting the dialing sequence were spoken to someone off-radio, and then he was back. "Please, take a reading of the gray goo. Of what exactly is it made-not just the chemical breakdown, but the molecular structure?"

"Stand by." Calling up the HUD, Corletti watched a list of options scroll across the screen and struggled to manipulate the sensors with only her uninjured hand. After a few seconds the results came up on the screen. "Okay, I've got a material analysis, but it's Greek to me. Can I transmit it to you somehow?"

"Yes, yes. I am in Jumper Two, preparing to leave, but I have just had an idea." He rattled off a series of short instructions, and Corletti obeyed. Another minute passed before they heard an exul tant shout in his native language. "I believe it can be done!"

"What can be done?"

"Recalibration of the jumper's shield. Much like we calibrated it to repel water while on the sea floor, we can attempt to configure it to repel gray goo."

"Will that allow us to reach Atlantis?" Teyla asked.

"If I am right, Atlantis's shield can also be programmed to match the jumper's. Then you should be allowed to pass through without bringing any undesirables with you."

The survivors behind her broke into a hopeful murmur, loud enough that Corletti had to raise her voice. "All right, what do we need to do?"

"Wait one minute, please." Another pause, punctuated by a few hushed, unintelligible mutterings. "Ali, now. Please activate the shield. I will talk you through it."

With Zelenka's guidance, Corletti made the necessary adjustments. "Okay, that's it," the Marine announced at last. "Now how do we know if it's working?"

The response was subdued. "I can think of only one way."

Peering down at the mass of writhing gray below the jumper, Corletti glanced over at Teyla, looking for confirmation. Although her stomach lurched at the prospect of what was to come, Teyla turned in her seat to face Halling and the others. She did not have the right to endanger their lives, especially as she had denied them the ritual.

Halling offered her a tentative smile. "You must do what is necessary." Drawing Jinto closer to him, he nodded once, briefly, and turned his gaze to his son. "I love you."

At that moment, Teyla could not have been more proud to call herself an Athosian.

Corletti put the craft into a shallow descent and drew in a long breath. They would no doubt be dead before much longer in any case, and at the very least, a failure here would be swift.

Jumper Three settled onto a mass of gray goo-and was immediately engulfed by darkness.