“There was another matter we were interested in discussing. Perhaps I might have a word?”
“Of course,” Cai answered, and they moved out of earshot.
“Zelenka!” Ronon called. “Help Vin get Captain Corvasc set up at the factory. Then come back and we’ll see what Teyla’s come up with.”
“Yes, of course,” Radek said, and hurried to help.
It didn’t take long to show the engineers the plates, and to get them started. They’d brought plasma torches and an Ancient skid that seemed have some kind of antigravity, as well as props and blocks, and Vin was happy to help, particularly when the detail sergeant proved willing to explain the torch. Radek waited a few minutes to be sure it was all in order, then started back to the square.
He was expecting a call to tell him to hurry up, but the radio stayed silent the whole way. Instead, there was birdsong and sunlight, a sense of spring that felt impossibly good after the weeks of cold and snow. There was new growth in what had obviously been household gardens, tucked in between ruined houses, and he guessed that Cai’s people would be able to eat well for the summer, at least. They didn’t lack courage, coming back here, particularly with Death gathering the Wraith behind her, but if she could be stopped — From the look of things, they could do well.
William was standing by the dying bonfire, talking to the stocky woman who had been with Cai — in fact, they were trading tastes of each other’s drinks, nodding seriously. That was also something Radek remembered, the way William had always used food and drink to make connections, talking as easily to grandmothers as to street vendors, and he made himself smile as he moved to join them. William’s greeting was equally reserved, and Radek was glad to see movement in the doorway of Cai’s headquarters. Ronon emerged, followed by Teyla, still talking over her shoulder to Cai, who stooped slightly to listen.
“Zelenka,” Ronon said. “We’re good to go.”
“Very well,” Radek answered. “The engineers are settled to work, and I think that will go well.”
“How far is it to this museum?” William asked.
Ronon paused, obviously calculating. “About — three kilometers, I’d say. A little less than that.”
“Not bad,” William said, and tucked the now-empty travel mug into his pack.
Radek looked at Teyla. “So we have a deal?”
“Yes.” Her smile was serene. “I have agreed that we will share information on what is still in the museum, in exchange for first choice of what is found. I think it is fair.”
“Good enough for me,” Ronon said. He wasn’t looking good, Radek thought, as though the first pleasure of seeing his fellow Satedans had worn off and he was seeing the ruined city all the more clearly for having been happy. “Let’s go.”
Cai’s people had done some clearing of the streets around the gate square, but once they’d gone a kilometer or so, the damage was more impressive. Buildings had collapsed into the street, spilling bricks across what had been a broad roadway, so that they had to scramble over and around the piles of debris. Glass glittered between the paving stones, spread in swaths across the bricks. The birds seemed more distant now, driven off by the sound of their footsteps.
Walking would have been bearable, but the uneven footing, the detours and the occasional climb, was making Radek’s leg begin to ache. He felt himself lagging, gritted his teeth, not wanting to say anything, and was only mildly embarrassed when Teyla called a halt at the next open square. He sat on the edge of the now-dry fountain — otherwise almost untouched; winged nymphs lifted wreaths to a central pillar, their bodies chipped but intact — and discreetly massaged the cramped muscle while the others took long drinks from their water bottles. The sun was definitely hot now, and Radek loosened his own jacket.
William turned on his heel, surveying the square. “Residential?” he asked, and Ronon glared at him.
“Yeah.”
“A nice neighborhood,” William said, almost to himself, looking over the top of his glasses at the lines of the roofs.
“It used to be,” Ronon said, and his voice was grim.
“I believe I was here once,” Teyla began, and looked at Ronon. “But no matter.”
Radek looked up at them, the pain in his leg forgotten. There was a baffled anger in Ronon’s face that made him wince in sympathy. “When I was a little boy,” he said, groping for the words. “The town I grew up in had been bombed in the war. There had been a German manufacturing plant there, and the center of the city was destroyed with it. I was not yet born, of course, but I heard the stories. Three nights of raids, with a bomber’s moon high in the sky, and everyone huddling in their cellars not knowing what they wished except to survive.”
William nodded, familiar quick sympathy, but Radek was watching Ronon, saw the hint of curiosity. Behind the Satedan, Teyla nodded gravely, and Radek wondered what stories Sheppard had told her, while they were trapped on Earth.
“We had been conquered by our enemy,” he said, his eyes on Ronon. “So we wished to see them beaten, and yet the cost…” He shrugged. “The new town, the center that everyone was so proud of, it was gone. The Old Town was shattered, and the people were gone, and there were streets filled to the second floors of the houses with broken stone. But by the time I was born… When I was very little, there were empty cellars, wrecked houses, and we were told never to play in them, or we would drown or be buried alive. By the time I was in school, the cellars were filled in, and my grandmother had a garden again. My uncle built his house where there had been a drygoods shop.” He hesitated, shrugged again. “It is possible to rebuild. And Cai is making a good beginning, I think.”
“It won’t be the same,” Ronon said.
“No,” Radek agreed. “But it will exist.”
Ronon turned away, the heavy dreadlocks flying. Radek sighed, and took a long drink from his water bottle. His leg was feeling better, and he couldn’t help thinking perhaps he should not have said anything.
“Let us move on,” Teyla said, after a moment.
Radek tucked his bottle back into the pack and began to haul himself to his feet, but to his surprise Ronon turned and held out his hand. Radek took it, grateful for the support as he got his knee working again, and Ronon said, “Thanks.”
I meant it, Radek wanted to say, but they both knew that. He nodded instead, and settled the P90 more comfortably against his chest.
They came up to the Museum by the back way, or so Ronon said — the street that had been the intended approach was still blocked by a collapsed building, and this was easier, if a little longer. Even from the back, the building was impressive: a long stretch of once-pale stone, fire-streaked now in places, the severe line of windows gaping empty. Everything was sharp, straight lines, except for the dome that rose from the center of the building. There had been statues once at the four corners of that central portion, but only fragments remained. It looked vaguely German, Radek thought — pre-war, pre-Hitler German — except for the lines of Satedan script carved into the band of stone that marked the division between the first and second stories.
“What does that say?” William asked, and Ronon looked over his shoulder, impatient.
“It’s the names of the city districts, and the suburbs. It’s the Museum of the City.”
“Ah.” William had his camera out, was recording the facade with practiced ease.
“This door is open,” Teyla said. She looked at Ronon. “Is this the best way in?”