The Chosen

Chapter Two

Lieutenant Aiden Ford studied the planet looming above the jumper’ s windscreen. Almost three quarters of the blue-green world was in daylight, while the rest was blanketed by a nighttime shadow. Odd angle notwithstanding, he had to admit that P3Y-something-or-other looked pretty from several thousand miles out. Sort of like Earth, except that there was just one landmass.

“Would it be too much to ask if you could keep us upright?” McKay griped.

“We’re in space,” Major Sheppard replied, maneuvering the jumper behind the MALP with careful precision. “There’s no such thing as ‘upright’. You’re gonna have to get used to that if you want to learn to fly one of these things outside an atmosphere.” He allowed the probe to touch the sloped face of the jumper with just enough force to halt its forward momentum. “Okay, dial her up.”

The vortex shot out of the orbiting Stargate then snapped reassuringly back into place. “Atlantis, Jumper One,” McKay called. “Ready to receive the MALP?”

“Go ahead, Jumper One.”

Aiden watched his commanding officer make just the tiniest motion with his hand. The jumper came to a stop, while the MALP continued through the rippling blue event horizon at a slight angle relative to their point of entry.

“MALP received. Good luck, Jumper One.” With that send-off, the event horizon vanished.

“That was skillfully done, Major,” Teyla said.

Until then, Aiden hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath. He had every confidence in the Major’s ability to pilot the jumper, and in any case a lot of it was automatic. But the ‘gate-in-space thing still kind of freaked him out. Getting stuck in one hadn’t been a whole lot of fun, and he really didn’t want a replay.

Sheppard gave a noncommittal shrug. “I just hope I didn’t dent the fender.”

“On this thing?” McKay said dismissively. “The jumpers have been demonstrated to be more or less indestructible. Not that I want to give them a stress test.”

“I meant the MALP. If it landed hard on the ‘gate room floor, you know that’ll be coming out of my paycheck.” Sheppard stretched his arms up over his head and cracked his knuckles. “You’re up, Rodney. Do your thing.”

McKay set his hands on the console to manipulate the craft’s sensors. “The troposphere extends about twenty-four kilometers above the surface. Let’s start at eighteen kilometers up.”

“Eleven miles it is,” the Major replied amiably. The conversion earned a huff of annoyance from McKay, which Aiden suspected was what Sheppard had intended. “What kind of scanning range have you got?”

“Plenty. We shouldn’t have to do too many orbits to cover the majority of the planet. Your role at present is simply to set us on a stable course. Of course, I suppose there’s no reason why I can’t do that myself—” McKay reached out to touch the panel, only to have his hand knocked aside by a glaring Sheppard.

“Okay,” said the Major, with exaggerated patience. “You’ve tried this once with the training wheels on, so good for you, but you’re not getting your mitts on a jumper in space until you’ve had a proper lesson.”

“And what wisdom do you have to impart that I haven’t already heard and mastered?” McKay wanted to know. “Straight and level — wasn’t that pretty much all there was to it?”

“As we just talked about, Rodney, things work a little differently in space.”

“I suppose you were an astronaut before coming to Atlantis?”

“No, but I do know enough about flying to perform a positive exchange of controls.” Sheppard fixed him with a stern look that suggested this lesson was non-negotiable. “It goes like this: the pilot in command says ‘You have the controls,’ and the other pilot repeats ‘I have the controls.’ Then, and only then, does he touch something. End of lesson.”

The scientist’s eyes narrowed. “This is yet another way of attempting to make me subservient to your authority, right? Real pilots don’t actually go through that rigmarole.”

“We sure as hell do — otherwise you can get conflicting control inputs, and that’s how bad days get started.”

“Fine, fine.” McKay retracted his hand. With a quiet grumble that might or might not have included the word ‘tyrant,’ he turned his full attention to the readouts in front of him. “The ‘gate appears to be in a geostationary orbit. I’d imagine that any civilization is located not far beneath us. That is, of course, if you’re willing to accept the term ‘beneath’, given that it’s space and all. Not much in the way of higher life forms yet…Hold that thought.”

“Have you found a native populace?” Teyla asked.

“Possibly. There’s a concentrated group of life signs down that way.” McKay pointed to the edge of a large land mass. “Assuming the planet rotates in the same direction as Earth, then it’s just after dawn. It’s the only reading I’m getting, so I suggest heading in that direction.”

“You’re the boss.”

The jumper’s flight path arced toward the indicated heading. McKay hunched over his readouts, his eyes crinkling in concentration. “I’d definitely call that a civilization. Thousands of distinct life signs, organized mostly among a set of structures perched on a basalt outcrop near the coast. In fact—” He fell silent while his fingers skipped over the console to call up a graphic on the head-up display. The screen showed groups of the white dots they’d come to recognize as human life signs hovering in and around a city-sized cluster of buildings. Though mostly contained within a massive encircling wall, other life signs were scattered in groups along the coastline and the countryside.

The sensors’ magnification capabilities were impressive, and McKay made good use of them. Except for one leafy area about the size of a football stadium, it looked to Aiden like the city had been carved out of the surrounding black rock. The buttressed walls of buildings were interconnected, with powerful, massive turrets melding it all into an imposing structure.

“Check it out.” Sheppard pointed to the monumental stonework and wide, sturdy walls. “This place was designed to take a pounding.”

McKay shook his head in undisguised awe. “If whatever society exists here is as archaic as some of that architecture looks, the sheer magnitude of all this is incredible.”

“Sorta like a cross between a monastery and a gigantic castle, surrounded by the Great Wall of China,” Aiden observed. For once, no one ridiculed his description.

“Complete with outer ramparts and — You gotta be kidding. Is that a moat?” The Major pointed to the display.

“It appears that a river has been diverted to flow around both sides of the hill,” McKay replied. “That was a startlingly bright move. Fresh water would be available at all times, even under a prolonged siege.”

“There’s more here than just the city.” Aiden leaned forward in his seat to examine the countryside and coastline now coming into view through the window. The land was dotted with farms and, where life signs were concentrated, villages. He couldn’t be certain from this height, but the objects in the harbor looked like they might have been boats. “Think they have much left over from when the Ancients were here?”

“Doesn’t look like the kind of thing the Ancients would go for.” Sheppard indicated the heavily fortified hill structure. “You’d only build something like this if you’re expecting a ground assault on a huge scale. Thing is, if this is the only civilization around, which sure looks likely going by the life signs, who’d be doing the attacking?”

“Everyone battles the Wraith,” Teyla said.

“Not like this. So far in our experience, the Wraith don’t come knocking on your front door. They strike from the air.”

“Maybe there were other civilizations,” Aiden ventured. “You know, in the past—”

“Hang on.” McKay interrupted, squinting at the screen. “Now that’s interesting.”

Aiden wondered if this was the kind of ‘interesting’ that involved some cool new tech or the kind that involved pissed-off natives taking target practice at them.

McKay, fortunately, wasn’t one to leave anything unsaid for long. “I’m getting some strong electromagnetic readings from the city. They just popped up, and they’re very patchy. Don’t descend any further,” he snapped.

“Why not?” Aiden asked.

“Because if we cross paths with one of those EM spikes, it’s another M7G-677.”

That reference was met with a blank stare from the Major.

“Really, how taxing is it to remember a simple six-digit identifier? The place with the marginally more civilized version of Lord of the Flies.”

Aiden was none the wiser. “I don’t get it.”

McKay shot him an exasperated look. “Children? Bows and arrows? The jumper doing its best impression of a glider? Would you like me to find a nice crayon and draw you a picture, Lieutenant?”

“Okay, kiddies, don’t make me turn this car around,” Sheppard warned, leveling off at about ten thousand feet. “Where’s the EM field originating?”

“There’s no central point of origin. They’re separate fields. The layout is mostly random, although largely concentrated over the western and southern sides of the city and immediate countryside.” McKay looked even more skeptical than usual. “If this is meant to be a protective shield, it’s a lousy design.”

“Offending your obsessive-compulsive tendencies?”

Poised to retort, McKay didn’t see Teyla stiffen, but Aiden did. “Major, Doctor,” he broke in, glancing over at his teammate.

Sheppard turned in his seat and frowned. “Teyla, what’s up?”

Sitting straight-backed, the Athosian lifted a hand toward the screen. “There is something else.”

The sensors showed a separate inorganic item just a few miles from the fortified southern wall. Composed of a different material than the structures, it sat perched in a field not far from one of the larger coastal villages. Its shape struck a familiar discordant note in Aiden’s memory. He smothered a curse. “That’s a Wraith Dart.”

A look of profound sadness crossed Teyla’s face. Aiden shot her a questioning glance.

“Each time I travel through the Stargate to a place that I have not yet visited,” she explained, “I hold within me a seed of hope that we will find a world, just one, which the Wraith have not touched.”

Well, that was a shiny, happy thought to start the mission.

“Is it a complete set, or is the Wraith sold separately?” The Major directed the question not to McKay, but to Teyla.

She shook her head. “I sense no life, but then, we are some distance away.”

“It’s dead,” McKay confirmed. “Not even a blip of energy coming off that thing. It must have met up with one of the EM fields.”

“It wasn’t the only one. Take a look.” Aiden tipped his head toward the windscreen. Scattered around the plowed fields were fully a dozen Darts. Each looked to have been the victim of a crash landing.

“I have never seen such a display,” Teyla said in surprise. “Is it possible that these people have found a way to defend themselves against a Wraith attack?”

Sheppard surveyed the wreckage and gave a low whistle. “All right, color me impressed. For a lousy design, they’re doing all right for themselves.”

McKay seemed to be working on convincing the sensor to record the data it was rapidly generating. “This Picasso-inspired checkerboard strategy wouldn’t stop everything. The law of averages dictates that a number of the Darts would find the unshielded areas, either through skill or blind luck.”

“But it did knock a bunch of them down.” The Major’s expression conveyed a kind of appreciation. “Once on the ground, the Wraith’s advantage would be seriously cut down. Would their stunners even work within the shield?”

“No, of course not, and the shields would repel any blasts fired into it from the outside. As I said, it’s like M7G-677.”

“And that’s where the fortifications come in. I’ve gotta say, as tactics go, this isn’t half bad.” Sheppard brought the image of a ruined Dart up on the screen. “I want to get a look inside one of those things. Anything we can learn about their style of offense will help us play better defense.”

Judging by the lack of griping about sports metaphors, McKay must not have heard the Major’s last comment. “No thanks to those oh-so-adorable little demon children, I discovered that the EM field on M7G-677 harnesses that planet’s unique magnetic field. Assuming these considerably smaller shields operate on a similar principle—” He tapped his finger at the patchy network visible on the display. “I can use the differences between the planets’ respective magnetic fields to recalibrate a smaller shield to suit any planet. If it could then be scaled up to cover an area the size of, say, Atlantis—”

“It’d take a lot more power than we’ve got,” Aiden finished.

“Yes, obviously. But these people seem to have the power available, so that’s all the more reason to find out where they’re getting it.”

Teyla looked uncomfortable. “We should introduce ourselves before intruding on these people’s land. We may mistakenly violate their customs if we act without making our intentions known.”

The scientist shifted his gaze to her, as though he hadn’t considered the possibility. She explained, “We have more to gain from being open with them at the outset. There is much farm-land here and their boats are no doubt employed for fishing. In addition to technology, we may also have the opportunity to trade for food.”

“Makes sense to me.” The Major called up a topographical map on the display. “All right, McKay, how about finding us an area not protected by the EM fields that’s relatively close to both a Dart and one of the villages?”

“As always, your wildly improbable wish is my command.” After only a few moments, though, McKay stabbed a finger at a coastal village. “Try there.”

“You’ll warn me if I’m getting too close to the shield this time, right?”

“Have you always been such a nervous driver?”

“It’s just gonna be a little hard going back for a repair kit with the Stargate in orbit.” He headed west toward the nearby mountains, cloaking the jumper as they went.

“You’re going the wrong way.” McKay looked confused.

“Just taking a quick look around. I like to eyeball the landscape on my way in.”

It was a subtle euphemism for reconnaissance, and that idea suited Aiden fine. Until last week, he had pegged Major Sheppard to be a decent superior officer with a typical flyboy attitude. No one would mistake him for a Marine, to be sure, and Aiden had heard enough scuttlebutt about his record to understand why Colonel Sumner hadn’t been too thrilled about having him on the expedition. But after the damage that Sheppard had inflicted on the Genii, there wasn’t a Marine on Atlantis who hadn’t gotten the picture and fast. More than anyone, Aiden now understood that the Major’s glib remarks camouflaged the mindset of an experienced tactician.

Capped with snow, the mountain range glinted in the early morning sun. “Air’s clean,” McKay observed, his nose still buried in the sensors. “Pre-industrialized society, at best, although there is a lingering trace of air pollutants. It’s likely that they went through a more developed phase between Wraith cullings, which would explain the construction of the city.”

The jumper’ s inertial dampeners took some of the fun out of it, but it was still a rush, zipping between the peaks low and fast. They abruptly exited into a wide valley, and the Major took them down to about five hundred feet. Spread out before them were patchy woodlands. Here and there, narrow roads bisected meadows of wildflowers and fields cultivated with what looked like orchard trees and newly planted crops.

“There’s a house.” Aiden pointed to a thatched stone bungalow. In a nearby field grazed some animals. He couldn’t make out the details, but they looked like large sheep, or maybe goats. “Place sure seems nice.”

“Hmm?” McKay finally looked up from the sensors. Eying another of the farms with suspicion, he added, “Very quaint. If we get dragged into a harvest celebration, so help me, I refuse to be held responsible for whatever reaction I might exhibit.”

“I think it’s a little early for that. There are still patches of snow in some of the ravines.”

“Whoa. That’s…imposing,” said Sheppard.

They had turned out of the valley onto a long, rolling plain dotted with more farms and woodlands that extended to the nearby coast. But that wasn’t what had drawn the Major’s attention. When he realized what had, Aiden almost gaped.

If it had been impressive from fifty thousand feet, from this angle the hill fortress, city, or whatever, looked awesome. Spread across an area slightly smaller than Manhattan, the hill jutted at least five hundred feet above the surrounding plain. A lot of the buildings had definitely been carved from the rock, with piecemeal additions constructed later from the same material. It was a Frankenstein kind of architecture, but damn if it didn’t look sturdy. “Sure wouldn’t want to have to lead a ground assault on the place. It’d take some serious ordnance just to make a dent in it.”

“Don’t go any further than that clump of trees.” McKay warned, pointing to an area about a mile away from the wreckage of a Dart.

They got their first view of the natives while on approach to land. “There are many people hurrying along the paths,” Teyla said. “They appear to be traveling from several directions.”

“Life sign detector is telling me the same thing,” McKay verified. “Hundreds of them, all rushing toward a handful of villages.”

Aiden pulled his eyes from the Darts and looked around. “Maybe they’re late for church?” the Major remarked, slowing the jumper to a halt. “I’m going to park in this gully. Less chance of someone tripping over us.”

The moment the jumper settled, Aiden was out of his seat and pulling on his pack. He grabbed his P-90, flicked off the safety and, exchanging a quick look with Sheppard, stood just inside the rear hatch as it opened.

No sign of life, except for a couple of the sheep-type things on the grassy slope of the gully. The animals lifted their heads and stared at him a moment, then went back to grazing.

Once outside, Aiden heard a deep, low noise that rose in pitch, then tapered off. “Wonder what that is?” The same sound echoed in the distance.

“Its sound is similar to the horns that my people use to signal one another when hunting,” Teyla said, joining him. She pulled her jacket close against the icy chill carried by the wind. “Perhaps it would explain why the inhabitants are making for the villages.”

“Yeah, but what’s the hurry?” Aiden wondered.

“Okay,” said Sheppard, powering down the jumper and checking its cloaking device. “We head for the village and find out.”

Aiden watched with some amusement as McKay struggled with his overloaded pack. “You did say that our powered equipment isn’t going to work under the shields, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but we won’t always be under the EM fields, will we?” snapped the scientist. “Be prepared, isn’t that the Marine motto?”

“That’s the Boy Scouts.”

“Ah. Close enough.”

Before Aiden could fire off a stinging reply, the Major shot him a warning look. Rank sure had its privileges. McKay’s self-importance was generally more entertaining than annoying, but taking a man’s hard-won, real chocolate brownie was no laughing matter. Neither was disparaging the Corps.

Although the sun was up, they were still in the shadow of the fortress, and the air had that fresh, dewy smell to it — with a tang of salt that Aiden recognized from his time on Atlantis. Crickets or their native equivalent chirped, while a few birds chattered in the branches. In the near distance, he could hear the sound of surf. Everything seemed peaceful enough, except for the periodic, insistent sound of horns. “I think the loudest call is coming from the village,” Aiden said.

“How perceptive of you.” McKay promptly stepped up to his ankle in what presumably were sheep droppings, except that they had the size and consistency of wet cow patties.

Aiden didn’t try to refrain from laughing.

They reached the trail a few minutes later. Too narrow to be a road, the lack of wheel ruts in the sandy soil told Aiden that the path must be a wide foot track. It wound through a few stumpy dune trees and emerged in the outskirts of the village, only a few hundred yards away. From the opposite direction came the sounds of people running through the forest, crying and shouting hysterically. He readied his weapon at precisely the same moment as his commanding officer.

“That doesn’t sound good,” the Major observed, then jerked back as a figure sprinted past them toward the village. He stepped off the path and motioned for them to take cover behind some bushes.

“Oh, that’s fantastic,” McKay groused, floundering around in the branches. “I think I’ve just encountered this world’s version of brambles. With my luck, it’ll probably be industrial-strength poison ivy.”

Dozens of people burst over the top of the rise. Dressed in simple tunics and thick hide boots held in place by leather thongs, they looked like farmers and hunters. Overhead, a flock of startled birds took to wing. The Major turned, and Aiden followed his gaze. Running behind them through the trees, also headed to the village, were still more people. All of them had the same look of dread that Aiden had seen on the Athosians’ faces the night the Wraith had struck. The tension in his stomach ratcheted up several more notches.

“They attack!”

Women clutching terrified children and heavily bearded men carrying axes flooded past on either side of the team. They didn’t look like the sort of people who’d normally run from much of anything.

“Who is attacking?” McKay asked no one in particular. “Not us, right?”

No one replied. Aiden had seen enough frightened mobs in his time to know that this one probably hadn’t even noticed them. Just in front of him, someone stumbled, dropping a burlap bag, while another person appeared to go down. A woman stooped to recover the bag, but the man with her shouted, “Leave it. There is no time. They come!”

The horns continued to blow. People pushed past Aiden, knocking him aside in their desperate flight. Unless they went with the flow, the four team members were in serious danger of being trampled. He looked to the Major, who was shouting something and pointing to a rocky outcrop. The crowds, now screaming unintelligibly, seemed to be skirting around it. Following Teyla, Aiden made his way across the growing surge of humanity.

McKay’s self-preservation skills had kicked in fast. By the time Aiden reached the rocks, the scientist was already clambering up the side, yelling, “Where the hell did all of these people come from?”

“I’m more worried about what’s following them,” Sheppard shouted back.

“Of course,” McKay declared loudly. “It’s these patchy EM fields. The life signs intermittently vanish and reappear once people emerge from the shields’ umbrella.”

Teyla reached the top of the outcrop ahead of Aiden, and looked down at the living tide. “They are searching the sky.”

“Wraith!” Aiden declared, hauling himself up. He looked out across the ocean, half expecting to see a swarm of Darts headed in their direction. Instead, all he noted was a bunch of large wooden boats tied up in the harbor.

Sheppard rounded on the Athosian. “Teyla?”

A slight frown marred her features, but she seemed more puzzled than concerned. “I feel nothing,” she declared.

The crowds had tapered off until only stragglers, mostly the elderly, panting and struggling with their few meager possessions, hurried by. A long, keening cry came from a ditch off to one side of the path. Something was alive down there. Without hesitation Aiden jumped off the rock and went to investigate.

A young woman — a girl, really, probably around sixteen — was desperately trying to bury herself in leaves and twigs. Aiden briefly glanced back to see the rest of his team coming up behind him. Dropping to one knee beside the girl, he said, “Hey, you need help?”

Her pallid features were contorted with pain and abject terror. “My leg.” A flash of confusion crossed her face when her eyes took in his clothes, but it didn’t distract her from her plea. “They are coming, and I cannot run!”

“Someone probably knocked her down,” McKay observed needlessly. “The same thing almost happened to me. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to—”

Ignoring him, Teyla stepped down into the sandy ditch, quickly brushed aside the leaves, and gently ran her hands along the girl’s leg. Unlike the sturdy looking footware of the people who had been running, this child’s hide boots were thin and patchy. Teyla quickly unwound the leather bindings. “I believe one of the bones below the knee may have been broken.”

Aiden pulled off his pack, intending to take a splint from his med kit. The girl clutched at his sleeve. “Please! We have little time before the Wraith come. We must get to the inn!”

“I still sense nothing.” Teyla glanced up at the Major. “If we attempt to move her leg before it is immobilized, the damage will be great.”

Stragglers continued to stumble along the path, breathless but doggedly determined. None stopped to offer help, although one or two cast a sympathetic look in their direction.

“Perhaps they have some kind of early warning system?” McKay theorized, looking around nervously.

Sheppard scanned the area. His eyes settled on the village. “If there is protection there, it’d be closer than heading back to the jumper.”

“Whoa, hold on a minute!” McKay objected. “If by protection you mean the EM field, let’s use some basic common sense here. With or without their energy weapons, I don’t really care to enter into yet one more running battle with God knows how many Wraith attacking from every direction.”

“If they’re even coming,” Sheppard retorted, glancing at Teyla. “Lieutenant? How long before you get that splint in place?”

“Not long, sir.” This, at least, was something he was trained to do. Aiden swallowed hard and went to work, ignoring the girl’s screams and scrabbling hands. A busted leg hurt like hell.

Teyla was trying to reassure the girl with gentle words. “What is your name?”

“Lisera,” she supplied between cries. “Please stop. It hurts so much!”

“Almost done.” Aiden tightened the splint. “It’s not perfect, but it should do ‘till we get back to the jumper.”

“The inn,” Lisera whimpered. “Not far. Please!” Her face was pale with shock and her eyes were imploring. “We must get there in time.”

“Teyla?” said Sheppard again, his gaze on her intense.

Pursing her lips, Teyla hesitated before replying, “Perhaps it is as Dr McKay says. These people may have a distant warning system.”

The horn blew again, and several more people ran past. “If we’re caught out in the open, we’re toast,” said the Major. “Even in the jumper I don’t like the idea of negotiating a swarm of Darts to get to the ‘gate.” He gestured toward Lisera. “Ford, can you carry her?”

“No sweat, sir.” Aiden pulled his pack on, swung his P-90 to one side and gently scooped Lisera into his arms. The girl cringed with pain, but stoically bit her lip and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Lisera, my name’s Aiden Ford. These are my friends Major Sheppard, Dr McKay, and Teyla.”

“Meet and greet later. Move now.” Sheppard’s gaze was focused on the village, where the majority of the mob was beginning to disappear from sight. “Why is everyone going to the inn?”

Seemingly confused, Lisera took a moment to reply, “For the Chosen to lead us to safety, of course.”

Ahead of them, Aiden saw McKay shoot Sheppard an inquisitive look and mouth ‘Chosen?’ The Major gave a quick shake of his head and kept going.

Aiden could feel Lisera’s trembling, and her tears were dampening his collar. This kid was beyond terrified and well into the first stages of shock. And she was light as a feather. He’d thought her legs were kind of skinny, but the rest of her was just as bony.

Keeping pace with him, Teyla, asked, “Are these attacks common, Lisera?”

“The Wraith have not come for many years, since long before my birth.” She noisily sniffed back her tears. “It was not until recently that the raids began again.”

The backs of his two teammates went rigid, and they traded a glance. Aiden knew the Major felt responsible for waking the Wraith, but to his way of thinking, the issue wasn’t even worth debating. Leaving Colonel Sumner behind — leaving anyone behind — hadn’t been an option. Besides, Aiden had taken out plenty of the guards himself. It just didn’t make sense that one rescue mission had been enough to start this galaxy’s version of the War of the Worlds. Then again, for all anyone knew, just landing on the Wraith’s godforsaken planet might’ve been enough.

“Where is the place of safety?” Teyla asked.

“Inside the Citadel. The winged monsters cannot fly over the lands protected by the Chosen, but the Wraith will attack on foot, just as…”A tremor went through Lisera’s voice, and she leaned into Aiden’s shoulder. “Just as they did two weeks past, when my brother was taken.”

The same jolt of sick fury hit Aiden every time he heard something like this. His arms had been getting a little tired, carrying the girl, but he hugged her closer, trying to infuse her with his determination to save her. “Almost there,” he said reassuringly.

McKay pulled up short, looking at his now-dark handheld scanner. “We’re under the EM field. Everybody stick together, because the radios aren’t going to be worth much.”

“We’re at the village,” Aiden said to Lisera.

The girl’s head turned in the direction they were traveling.

“So the Chosen come to the inn to help move everyone inside the Citadel?” Sheppard asked over his shoulder.

“There is a transport there,” she replied. “But the Chosen will not wait for long, for fear that the Wraith will discover the transport and use it to penetrate the Citadel.” Her eyes turned to the massive wall encircling the city, about three miles away. “We must hurry!”

“Which direction?”

“Pass the well,” Lisera said through clenched teeth. “And then go to the left, along the waterfront.” Her terror of the Wraith clearly outweighed the pain she had to be feeling.

Walking quickly beside Aiden, Teyla drew her P-90 closer, all senses primed to detect the first sign of attack. He met her eyes, and she shook her head. If the Wraith were coming, they were still out of range of whatever it was she used to perceive them.

Ahead of them, the village streets were deserted. Aiden glanced around, noting possible places of refuge. Most of the single-story structures were made of wood, black stone and some sort of thatching on the roofs. Fishing nets were strung all over the place, and a strong odor drew his attention to racks of drying squid-looking things.

They passed a couple of piles of rubble that might once have been buildings, before they’d become the targets of some artillery-level weapons.

Lisera’s voice hitched as she explained, “The second time the Wraith’s winged monsters came, they breathed fire on the market stalls. Then the Chosen used their powers to protect the village and the monsters fell from the sky.” Her voice dissolved into whimpers. The pain was really getting to her now.

The Major’s head snapped back, and he started to say something, but a growing commotion nearby diverted his attention. They reached a stone well featuring an old-fashioned hand pump, and looked left down a cobblestone road that opened out into an expansive square. The area was rapidly filling with people, crowding against each other, some spilling down toward beach. The tension level was skyrocketing. As they drew closer, Aiden began to make out what was being said.

“The Chosen have forsaken us.”

“The transport cannot take us to safety!”

“The Wraith will kill us all!” came the increasingly desperate cries.

Lisera stiffened, and her arms tightened around Aiden’s neck. He felt her heart pounding and her breathing quicken. Wild-eyed, she began to sob and shake her head, saying, “No, no,” over and over again.

Red-faced and panting from exhaustion, people ran up behind them, desperate to force their way through, but there was nowhere to go. In order to better see, a few climbed on top of boats that had been hauled up onto the beach.

Jostled by the surging crowds, Lisera cried out in pain. “We’re going to die!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll be safe. I promise.” Aiden tried to inject as much reassurance as he could into his tone, but he had to admit, he wasn’t feeling too comfortable with the general situation.

“My brother said that,” Lisera blurted through her tears. “Then the ghosts came, and…and I ran. My brother came after me. That’s when the Wraith took him. And now they will take me!”

“The Wraith are coming,” someone cried, pointing to the sky.

Shadows passed across the face of the sun. “They come!”