Homecoming

Chapter Fourteen New World, New Challenges

“How is it coming?” Woolsey asked, leaning over Radek’s shoulder in the control room.

Radek cast a surreptitious glance at the clock in the bottom corner of his laptop screen. Twenty two minutes. It had been all of twenty two minutes since the last time he’d asked. “It is coming,” Radek said. “Slowly, but it is coming.”

“It’s not like this is easy,” Rodney said from the upper tier of computers. He was examining something on his screen, leaning over a scan Miko Kusanagi was doing. “Since this planet has apparently never had a Stargate, we’re essentially making up a gate address. That is a little more complicated than just aligning to an existing one, like we did in California. That was a piece of cake. Carter did it in five hours. But then, presumably she knows where Earth is.”

“It was simply a matter of adjusting the coordinates of the Cheyenne Mountain gate a very small amount to compensate for the distance between Colorado and California,” Radek said, as Woolsey appeared unenlightened.

“And this is more complicated,” Woolsey said.

Rodney straightened up, his back stiff. “Why yes. This is just a little more complicated. We are creating a gate address in the middle of nowhere based on astronomical data that we have to gather before we can use it, and then we have to get a ten thousand year old alien computer system to accept our coding. And if we make the smallest mistake, even to the fraction of thousandth of a decimal point, instead of calling Earth we’ll be calling somewhere else in the Milky Way. Like the middle of a sun, or a gate controlled by one of our innumerable enemies. So yes. This is a little more complicated.”

Radek gave Woolsey a small shrug as Woolsey lapsed into silence. “He is like this,” Radek said. “But we will get it done.”

Woolsey frowned. The obvious question was how long, but he wasn’t going to ask it now.

“Several days, I should think,” Radek said. “Dr. Kusanagi is running a full-spectrum astronomical scan right now. That has about…” He glanced down. “…Sixty four minutes to run. Then we can start comparing the positioning data to the thirty six standard symbols in order to work out a dialable address. We have to do that first — the gate has to know where it is before it can dial anywhere else.” Woolsey blinked again. “Like getting a telephone number and being connected before you try to make a call,” Radek said.

“If you’re through with Stargates 101, would you mind doing some work?” Rodney asked testily. “Radek, I need you to work out the code for the reassignment of the unique point of origin symbol.”

“Yes, of course,” Radek said. Miko glanced up at him from down the board and gave him a half-smile. Oh yes. They knew Rodney very well.

Eva Robinson slipped quietly into the back of the room, the door sliding silently shut behind her, and went up the two steps to stand beside Dr. Keller. The mess hall had been rearranged classroom style to fit in the number of people required for the briefing — two hundred and sixteen — all the military personnel in Atlantis. Of that number, more than a hundred were new Air Force and Marines assigned to Atlantis in that last crazy week on Earth, when General O’Neill had been pulling in people to fill gaps.

And there were enormous gaps. Since Mr. Woolsey had been forbidden to hire anyone since the first days on Earth, when contractors like her had come aboard on a temporary basis to deal with the transition, he hadn’t been able to fill the spaces of anyone who left. Vital specialties had been left vacant from the infirmary to the control room. Five Air Force nurses and a Physician’s Assistant with a specialization in ophthalmology had been transferred from Cheyenne Mountain to bring the medical team back in the green, if not to full strength. Sergeant Taggart had been a night technician on Earth’s Stargate and had been transferred into the control room at the last second. She’d been moved so late, the day of departure, that she and her duffel bag had been beamed to Atlantis by the George Hammond. A plane from Colorado to California would never have made it.

Unlike the original expedition members, many of the new military personnel had not volunteered for this assignment. This was a deployment like any other. In outer space. Except for the ones coming through the SGC, many of them had never heard of Atlantis or a Stargate more than two weeks ago. They were cooks and HVAC specialists, mechanics and computer technicians, no doubt dreading a year in Baghdad. Instead, they were doing something straight out of a science fiction novel, battling aliens in a distant galaxy.

Needless to say, there would be an adjustment.

All of them, new and old personnel alike, were crowded into the mess hall for a general briefing. Eva thought she could see the fractures between new and old hands even from here — the tilt of a head, an incredulous expression, a vaguely superior way of sitting. They might all be wearing uniforms, but they didn’t look the least alike.

She was sure an effort would be made to get them all into Atlantis uniform, or at least to issue them. Most of them didn’t have them when they arrived, and so now they were a sea of colors — the blacks and charcoals of the Atlantis uniform standing out as badges of pride on the old hands, among Marine camo and Air Force blue. It didn’t make for solidarity. It made for rivalry, like a crowd wearing colors of different teams. But then, she imagined Sheppard knew that.

He was at the front of the room, waving around a long pointer at one of the Ancient viewscreens that someone had moved in for the presentation, in Atlantis uniform of course, but absolutely pressed. His BDUs were crisp. She hadn’t known there was an iron in Atlantis. Eva made a note to herself to find out who the iron belonged to so she could borrow it.

“That wraps up the briefing on our new planet,” Sheppard said, his voice carrying easily without a microphone. “I’ll take questions relating to the general briefing. Or if you have questions to direct to Major Lorne, this is an appropriate time.”

Lorne nodded sharply, standing three feet from Sheppard with his hands clasped.

There was the pause one expects, as everyone waits for someone else to go first.

A hand went up in the first row — Airman First Class Salawi, her black curling hair buzz cut like a man or a supermodel. She’d come from the SGC, and presumably was less intimidated than some. Eva made mental note that Ayesha Salawi had initiative. “Sir, if this planet appears uninhabited, do we know for a fact that it’s free of hostiles?”

“No, Airman, we don’t,” Sheppard said, swinging the pointer at his side. “We don’t know that at all. We do know that there aren’t any permanent dwellings or structures, any kind of town or base. We don’t know that this planet is never used as a stop off point for anyone.”

“The Wraith?” Salawi asked.

“Could be. It doesn’t have any resources they need, meaning food of the two-footed kind, or any unusual or valuable mineral resources. It’s off the beaten track in the middle of nowhere. That doesn’t mean they never come here. We also don’t know if any humans periodically stop on this world.”

“I thought you said that humans here all use the Stargate,” a voice said from the middle rows. Eva couldn’t quite make out who the speaker was.

“There are some humans with extrastellar craft,” Sheppard said. “There are people who’ve been forced off their worlds and who travel the galaxy as kind of a gypsy caravan in space. They’re called the Travelers, and we’ve had mixed relations with them. They have no central government, just ship groups, and they scavenge a lot, staying out of the way of the Wraith. They’re to be treated with caution, but not as enemies. This is the kind of world they’d like. It’s a good place to put down and repair without being bothered. So we’ll keep one eye out for the Travelers. If they turn up, we can probably work something out with them.”

In the front row, Salawi nodded.

A hard thing, Eva thought, looking around at faces, to adjust to the idea this was all real. Some faces had tightened up. This was weird, uncomfortable. Others looked solemn, like Salawi, determined to learn it all today. And a few were transformed with interest, as though transfixed by the idea that every fairy tale was true. She knew how that felt.

A young blond Marine in the back, shaved so close his cheeks were pink, raised his hand. “Sir, what are we doing first?”

“Our first order of business is to get back in touch with our allies,” Sheppard said, lifting his chin to make eye contact all the way in the back. “My team and Major Lorne’s will go out as soon as the gate is ready to visit our best friends and gather some intelligence. We’ve been gone nearly six months. A lot can happen in six months. Circumstances can materially change. So our first task is intelligence gathering. To that end, we may need subsequent teams to assist with various missions, including escorting allies and providing security for offworld operations.” He broke into a smile. “So you’ll get offworld soon enough, Lieutenant.”

The Lieutenant didn’t look away. “It’s pretty amazing, sir.”

“It is.” Sheppard swung the pointer again, and Major Lorne stepped back. “And pretty amazingly dangerous.”

Beside Eva, Dr. Keller looked grim. She leaned sideways and whispered, “You know, in five years here we’ve only had a few Marine lieutenants finish their tour without being seriously wounded or killed. Or being MIA. We have a couple of those.”

Eva blew out a long breath. “Not good odds.” But someone made it. Someone always did. It was always worthwhile to see what the survivor brought to the table, luck or skill or simple resilience. “Who finished?”

“Lieutenant Laura Cadman,” Keller whispered. “She did a two year tour and went home in one piece.”

“Someone always does,” Eva said.

“What about the Genii?” The questioner was somewhere in the middle of the room, Atlantis uniform with the yellow medical shirt beneath it, an old hand most likely.

Lorne glanced at Sheppard, who answered. “When we left the Genii were our allies. But as a lot of you know, that’s kind of a tricky thing. We don’t know what’s up with the Genii, or even if Ladon Radim is still in power. That’s one of the first things we need to find out.”

Lorne shifted from one foot to another. “Rest assured, we’re not going to let our guard down with the Genii,” he said.

Keller leaned in again. “A three hour briefing. All You Need to Know About Pegasus! It’s crazy.”

“It’s a start,” Eva said. “We’ve all got to start somewhere.”

“It would be more prudent,” Radek said, toying with his pen.

“Of course it would be more prudent,” Rodney agreed. “But we’d have to do two connections that way. One to send and then notify them we’ll dial in again to receive at a certain time.”

“Yes, but that is still less power than leaving the wormhole open for fifteen or twenty minutes,” Radek said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“What are we talking about?” John slid into his chair next to Rodney around the conference table.

No one was here yet for the 5 pm meeting but Teyla and the two scientists, who presumably had just come from their three hour afternoon orientation with all the new science personnel, following the morning one for all military personnel. Ronon and Lorne were conducting the first of half a dozen small group classes introducing Wraith stunners and other technology to the new military personnel, and probably wouldn’t make this meeting at all. Carson and Keller had a different small group for Safety in the Pegasus Galaxy 101, or as Carson preferred, Don’t Touch the Glowing Fungus. Banks had all the new people who had been assigned to the control room going over gate protocol. Kusanagi had all the new engineers and technicians out performing a post-landing visual inspection of the city’s superstructure, a really fun assignment in the dropping temperature. Oh, and the new Air Force cooks were getting their first run through Atlantis’ kitchens, getting dinner on the table for four hundred and seventeen people. Exactly who was going to be at this meeting besides them was a good question. Presumably Woolsey, or he wouldn’t have called it.

“They are discussing whether to recommend leaving the gate open and talking with General Landry at the SGC, or whether to send a databurst with all our information and dial back in tomorrow at the same time to receive a reply,” Teyla said. She was sitting next to Radek on the other side of the table cradling a cup of coffee between her hands.

“I don’t see that it helps much to talk to Landry,” John said, leaning back in his chair. “He can’t make the decision to divert Daedalus to our new position. That’s got to go through Homeworld Command. It’s going to have to be O’Neill anyhow, and he’s not going to be sitting around Cheyenne Mountain. So we might as well dial in, tell them what’s up, and then call back 24 hours later to give them a chance to bat it around the office.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Rodney said.

Radek rolled his eyes. “You mean my thoughts.”

“We had similar thoughts,” Rodney said.

“I am sure you both had the same sensible, prudent thought,” Teyla said, her eyes meeting John’s full of merriment.

The door opened and Woolsey came in, his jacket severely zipped all the way up. “It’s freezing in the gateroom,” he said.

“Yes. That’s because people keep flapping the outside doors,” Rodney said. “It’s cold outside. When you open the doors a lot, the heat goes out.”

“And we cannot heat the whole outdoors,” Radek said wearily.

“Your mom said that too?” John asked.

“Yes.” Radek pushed his glasses up on his nose again.

“We could put a note on the doors asking people to leave them closed,” Woolsey said.

“Yes,” Rodney agreed. “Someone should get right on it.”

“The weather is very inclement,” Teyla said.

“Cold too,” John added.

“Snowy,” Radek agreed, catching her eye. “I think it will snow.”

“Can we get on with this meeting?” Rodney said. “Haven’t we all got better things to do than talk about the weather?”

“You started it,” John said.

“I did not. Radek started it.”

“The Stargate,” Woolsey said, blinking. “Is the gate now operable?”

Rodney nodded. “The gate is operable. But I do feel it my duty to warn you that we are very short of power. We can dial Earth. A limited number of times. And every time we dial Earth, we cut down the amount of time that we’ll be able to run the shield if it becomes necessary. Our ZPMs are at 9 per cent, but that’s all the power we have for the foreseeable future. So — use wisely.”

“We must dial Earth at least once,” Woolsey said, his fingers tapping on the conference table. “Otherwise they have no idea where we are. The Daedalus and the Hammond are expecting to rendezvous with us at a different position. We have to tell them where we actually are.”

“We recommend…” Radek began.

“…a high speed databurst,” Rodney said. “That leaves the gate open the minimum amount of time, and we can get off everything we need, including everyone’s personal emails. We tell them we’ll dial back in 24 hours and get a reply.”

“Is that safe power consumption?” Woolsey asked.

Radek and Rodney shrugged at each other.

“Nothing’s safe,” Rodney said. “But it’s acceptable. We can’t just use no power at all.”

“And we have to tell them where we are,” John put in. “That’s a bottom line. All of our resupply is going to come out on Daedalus or Hammond, except for what we trade with our allies for.” He nodded across the table at Teyla. “Tomorrow we’re going out to start lining up ducks, finding out what’s happened with our allies. There’s enough power for dialing Pegasus gates, and the sooner we know what’s going on, the better.”

“Yes,” Woolsey agreed. “We need an intelligence estimate as soon as possible.” He looked at Teyla. “We’ll be relying on your connections, as usual.”

“I shall do my best,” Teyla assured him.

Woolsey straightened his jacket. “Then let’s get a camera in here and I’ll record a visual report as well as the written one. Are your reports in?”

“Mine is,” John said.

“Um,” Rodney said. “I didn’t get off the gate until one and then I wasted my time giving orientation from two until ten to five. When do you think I wrote a report?”

“I have the Sciences report,” Radek said.

“Oh good,” Woolsey said. John thought maybe he was getting used to Gnip and Gnop. “Fine. We’ll be ready to send in a few minutes then.” He glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on John. “Time to phone home.”

Huge snowflakes were falling. Teyla paused along the seaward balcony of the control tower, her jacket zipped tight against the wind. It sang through the railings and deserted metal chairs and tables. How not? Often these seats had been favorites, but who would choose to eat their meal out here, in gathering darkness and falling snow? This new world was not like the ones they were used to, balmy breezes and warm sun, for all that they were within twenty degrees of the equator. Already, a fine dusting of snow coated the floor and the surfaces of the tables. She wondered how much there would be before it stopped. Rodney would know. Or he would guess.

The doors slid open ahead of her, a few flakes whirling on the air, and she stepped into the control room. Rodney was at the first bank of computers, talking into his headset. “No, I cannot put up the shield,” he snapped at someone. “It’s snow, not an alien invasion! Do you think we have the power to run the shield because you don’t want to get your feet wet?” He paused, cupping the earpiece, as the gateroom was also noisy. “Yes, I am a Canadian!” He shook his head and took the headset off, laying it on the board beside him and scratching his ear.

Teyla caught his eye and smiled. “We should run the shield to keep off the snow?”

“Yeah. Like that will happen. It’s a few centimeters! Everyone can cope!”

“I agree,” Teyla said tranquilly.

Rodney stopped in midstream. “Good.”

Teyla very carefully did not look around. What she was asking was personal, not secret. Woolsey was by chance not in his office. No doubt he had gone to eat dinner. And if John were not around either, surely he had other things to do than hang around the gateroom. “I was wondering if now that you had recalibrated the gate and called Earth…”

Rodney scratched his head again, and it came to her that his hair was thinning on top. None of them were as young as they used to be. His eyes met hers frankly. “You were wondering if we could dial New Athos.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I know it will use power, but…”

“Pennies,” Rodney dismissed it. “Dialing a Pegasus gate is peanuts. Not like running the shield to keep the snow off the balcony. I can dial New Athos for you. In fact,” he put his head to the side. “I figured you’d ask.”

“Just long enough for a radio message,” Teyla said. “That is all. So that my people may know that we live and are well. I will not give them the gate address or anything that might require Mr. Woolsey’s permission.”

“I know,” Rodney said. He leaned back, stretching along the board, and hit the first key, Tail of the Dragon. Amelia Banks and the new one, Taggart, lifted their heads at the sound of the chevron locking. “Dialing New Athos,” Rodney said clearly.

Amelia gave Teyla a smile, and Taggart wasn’t about to question anything Rodney did. He was Chief of Sciences, and if he wanted to dial the gate, he could.

“Let me get the wormhole established, and the radio is all yours,” Rodney said.

The gate dialed cleanly, the wormhole exploding in a blue flash and settling. It took so very little time, really. She had not decided what to say. What was there to say, after five months? What could she say, before Rodney and the gateroom, before all of New Athos?

Rodney handed her the headset. “Here you go.”

Teyla slid it over her ear. “New Athos, this is Atlantis.” Her voice gained strength from that. She was not merely Teyla. She was Atlantis. “New Athos, this is Atlantis. Please respond.”

There was a crackle, and then an incredulous voice. “Atlantis? That is not possible.”

“Halling?” Teyla was surprised to feel her eyes filling. “Halling, this is Teyla.”

“Teyla?” She felt her heart would burst at the rush of joy in his voice. She could see where he must be, in his tent by night, the radio they had given him silent these many months, but still clearly kept within arms’ reach. “Teyla? It cannot be! We heard that Atlantis was destroyed. The gate has been dead. We have dialed and dialed, and we thought…”

“I know that you thought us gone,” Teyla said quickly. “We are no longer at the same address, but we live. The city lives. We are well and whole, Torren and I, and Ronon and Dr. Beckett and Dr. Keller and Colonel Sheppard and all the rest.”

Even now he might be sending someone for Kanaan. Of course he would be. She could imagine his brow furrowing. “We have thought you lost,” Halling said. “Why did you not…”

“We did not have the power to dial from where we were,” Teyla said swiftly with a sideways glance at Rodney. “But now that we do, I have called you as soon as I might.”

“Atlantis lives,” he said, as though it were just now striking him, that city as well as people survived.

“The city is well and whole as we,” Teyla said. Surely he was sending for Kanaan, and what should she say? There was nothing that could suffice, and she did not want the recriminations she richly deserved before half the city, that everyone should speak of it and know what passed. Enough that all of her people would pass their judgments. “Halling, we have been in great peril. And yet we are safe now, as safe as anyone may be. I feared that some ill might have befallen you, yet I guess now that is not so?”

“We have seen no Wraith, if that is what you mean,” Halling said. “But we have little to Cull at this point, and our trades have been cautious. We had a fever run through last month, and many were taken ill who have now recovered. Soen died three tendays ago, but he had long been ailing with the sickness in his lungs. It was not a surprise that the fever took him.”

“I sorrow at that,” Teyla said, and her voice broke. A fever. If they had been here, perhaps Jennifer could have done something for Soen. Her medicine might not permit a man to die of a fever that went to his lungs.

“Otherwise, we are well enough,” Halling said. “The grain is high in the field, and the beans have come in. The first fruits of the harvest are upon us.”

“That is good to hear indeed,” Teyla said.

“Do you come through the Ring of the Ancestors?” Halling asked. “There are many here who would see you.”

“No. Not now,” Teyla said swiftly. “I cannot yet. But I will come as soon as I may.” She gave Rodney a swift, sideways glance. “Tell Kanaan that Torren is well, and I will come when I can.”

“He will be glad to hear that,” Halling said. “He has…”

“I must go,” Teyla said. “I will come to New Athos soon. Farewell, my friend.”

“Farewell,” Halling said, and there was a note of perplexity in his voice. Perhaps he thought some danger threatened her even this moment. It might, from the speed with which she cut the gate.

Her hands on the board, Teyla closed her eyes.

Rodney put his arm around her, and she looked up at him, startled. “It’s ok,” Rodney said.

“No. It is not,” she said quietly. “I know when I do wrong.”

“I think you’re awfully hard on yourself,” Rodney said, and his smile quirked sideways. “You’re not the only person to get off the phone in a hurry when you call home.”

Teyla looked up at his frank blue eyes, at the soaring arches of the gateroom behind him. “This is home,” she said. “And that is the problem.”

“You’re not the only one there either,” he said. “If Jennifer had said she wasn’t coming back…”

“She did not,” Teyla said.

Rodney nodded. “She didn’t. Bullet dodged, until next time.”

Teyla leaned against him and put her head against Rodney’s shoulder. “Perhaps there will not be a next time. But I will have to face my people sooner or later. And I will have to explain why it is that I will not come home this time. When will I return? When will I stay?”

“And what’s the answer?” Rodney said quietly. “Or does that depend?”

She lifted her head sharply. “It does not depend on anything that it should not. I have done nothing that I may not speak the truth about.”

“I know that,” Rodney said seriously. “But.”

“There is no but,” Teyla said. “And sooner or later I must go.”