“Yes, yes,” Radek said, and edged into the gap between what looked like two different kinds of plating. “This may take a while.”
It took, in fact, the better part of an hour, Vin trailing Radek with the lamp, the two of them sharing a huddled conversation, and then moving on again. After twenty minutes, Ronon was bored, and convinced that Vin, at least, was honest; after forty-five minutes, he stopped the ex-apprentice as he darted after Radek.
“Is there a way to the roof?”
Vin blinked. “Yes — yes, actually. Through there. We’ve shored them up, and the roof, too, it’s perfectly safe — ”
“Thanks,” Ronon said, and turned away. He couldn’t have said quite what he was looking for, if he was even looking for anything, and not just trying to distract himself. The factory smelled old and dry, not even dead, and he needed air and light.
He ducked through the doorway that Vin had indicated, and started up the stairs, body tensed just in case the next step was the one that wouldn’t take his weight. He could see the paler wood of the repairs, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe Vin when he said it would hold — well, his mind believed, but his body did not. The occasional crack and groan didn’t improve matters.
Then at last he came out onto the roof, and stood for a moment, staring. Most of the biggest buildings were still there, their shells intact, roofless, broken, but recognizable. Somehow that seemed worse than if they had been missing altogether, and he shook his head, wishing he had the words. It was like looking at the skeleton of something so long dead that half the bones were missing. The eye filled in the gaps even as it noted them, shapes made as familiar as they were strange. There was the old guildhall, converted before he was born to a commercial exchange: the long windows were empty, carved frames broken out, but the line of the roof was intact. The Panopticon’s roof had fallen in, but its narrow towers still flanked the gap, scorched and blackened against the pale sky. In the far distance, sunlight glinted from the dome of the City Museum. Somehow most of the gilding had survived, and it had not been worth anyone’s while to pull it down for salvage. Or at least, not worth it yet. Cai was bound to get there, in the end.
Beyond that was the gap that had been Centenary Park, once dark with trees, now bleak and empty, a few twisted stumps thrusting out of the rubble. He and Melena had never gone there much, preferred the livelier amusement of Gateside, where there were band concerts three nights a week, and you could buy cakes and tea from a dozen vendors, and bring a flask of your own if you were reasonably discreet…
He looked back at the Museum, the afternoon sun bright on the gilded dome. If there’d been no looting there, no salvage — it had had what was supposed to be an important collection of Ancient artifacts. He remembered being taken there on school trips, walking through the echoing halls, boys in one long line, girls in the other, giggling and shoving each other when the teachers weren’t looking. There was much more in the catacombs beneath the museum: he definitely remembered one young teacher explaining that there was far too much to display, as well as things that were too fragile, and things that were too dangerous. Maybe that would be worth investigating, too, if Teyla’d managed to strike a deal.
They walked back to the hotel through lengthening shadows, Radek vainly trying to suppress his excitement. Teyla met them in the doorway, calm as ever, P90 still clipped to her chest.
“We — there is quite a bit of what we need,” Radek began, trying to be cautious, and Teyla nodded.
“We have come to some provisional arrangements,” she said, and smiled. Cai was smiling, too, Ronon saw, so the deal seemed fair to him. “We must return to Atlantis and confer with our superiors, of course, but I believe this will do well for both of us.”
Cai bowed. “I sincerely hope so.”
Chapter Thirteen
The City Museum
The debriefing didn’t take long — in fact, the longest part was Radek waxing rhapsodic about the titanium plates he had found. Though mostly, Ronon thought, it was quick because they didn’t have much choice. They could pay what Cai wanted, or look somewhere else. And Sheppard was not the kind of man who’d send a raiding party to steal something he could afford to pay for. Ronon allowed himself a crooked smile. And besides, the plates were too big and heavy to move if somebody was shooting at them. Sheppard was making wrap-it-up noises, and Ronon pulled himself upright.
“Sheppard. There’s one more thing.”
Everyone looked at him, Teyla with her head to one side, and he licked his lips.
“While Zelenka was doing his thing, I went up on the roof to take a look around. The City Museum looks pretty much intact. When I was a kid, they said there was a big collection of Ancient artifacts there. I’m thinking we should take a look.”
Sheppard nodded. “Sounds interesting. Teyla, do you think Cai would go for that?”
She paused, considering. “We might have to offer a little more, but, yes, I think he would agree. The Ancient gene is so rare here that there is little use any of us, Satedans, Athosians, Genii, or any other people, can make of their devices.”
“OK,” Sheppard said. “See what you can do. Ronon, you’ll be in charge if we get clearance, and, Radek, I’d like you to be part of that group.”
Radek nodded, took a deep breath. “We should also bring Dr. Lynn.” He paused, gave a rueful smile. “After all, is this not exactly what we have archeologists for?”
“OK,” Sheppard said again. “Then tomorrow we send the engineers — and I appreciate the loan of Hammond’s people, Colonel Carter — and Ronon and his team will check out this museum collection. But remember. Don’t touch the glowing things.”
William was the last to arrive in the gate room. He wasn’t actually late, but he was carrying a travel mug, which would have merited remark, Radek thought, if he hadn’t been carrying one himself. They had to wait for the control room team to disengage and redial the gate, a team of Marines with P90s at the ready just in case the Wraith picked that moment to try to dial in. The odds of that were vanishingly small, but it was not a chance anyone wanted to take.
Nonetheless, it was a relief to see the gate light again, the burst of blue steadying to the shimmer of the event horizon, filing the circle of the gate. The Marine detail formed up sharply, the engineers following with less conscious swagger, and Ronon and Teyla moved forward, ready to be first through the gate. Radek took a deep breath — this was really not what he’d signed up for — and followed. At the edge of the event horizon, he glanced over his shoulder, saw Sheppard watching from the rail of the control room, his face so expressionless it was clear how much he wanted to go in their place. I wish you could, Radek thought, and stepped through the gate.
He emerged into the chill of a spring morning, the light gold and new, the shadows long across the square. Smoke rose from the tents, and a bonfire was burning in a cleared spot at the center of the square. His breath left a trail of fog, but it was the kind of chill that promised a warm day to follow.
“Dex!” Ushan Cai emerged from the best-repaired of the buildings, a stocky woman at his side, and Ronon lifted his hand in greeting.
“Cai.”
“And Teyla and Dr. Zelenka,” Cai went on. “Welcome. I’m glad we’ve been able to come to an agreement.”
“As are we,” Teyla said.
“I assume there are more coming?” Cai asked, and Ronon nodded.
“Right behind us.”
Even as he spoke, the event horizon rippled again, and the first of the Marines emerged, hauling the crated trade goods. Cai nodded, nodded again as the engineers followed them, and there was the usual milling around as the Marines looked for the right place to leave the crates and the engineers looked for their orders. Ronon got them sorted out quickly enough, and Teyla smiled at Cai.