"Don't shoot them!" he called out on impulse, lowering his gun. As if understanding his action, the animal visibly calmed. Amoment later he realized that, despite the chaos that had previously gripped the room, only one weapon had been discharged. Were the others sensing the same strange connection that he had?
Lome's voice, heard from behind a row of boxes a few yards away, gave him his answer. "Anybody else getting a strong `please don't hurt me' vibe from these guys?"
"This is just plain weird," muttered Hawthorne.
Ronon wasn't so certain; he'd had plenty of experience with the sorts of illusionary tricks the Wraith could project. While this was different, perhaps even a trick to lull them into complacency, he still had the option of shooting them. Although the compulsion he felt was strong, it wasn't strong enough to stop him from acting if he thought it necessary. As much as it went against everything he knew, this was one time when pausing to ask questions seemed like a good idea.
"All teams stand down." Teyla's urgent instruction rang in Ronon's earpiece. "These animals are docile. They have come out of hiding and are not threatening us."
Ronon stepped back, allowing the dinosaur freedom to move. Slowly, it crept toward the center of the room, where its friends were gathering. That first stun bolt must have either missed or had no effect, because all five animals now clustered together, unharmed.
"Same here," reported Lome. "Is it possible we might be able to herd 'em back to the gate room?"
"I believe so," Teyla said. "They seem aware of our intent and our reluctance to harm them. As long as we do not frighten them further, I sense they will follow where we lead."
Ronon wouldn't have believed it, but she was right. The Marines covertly blocked all corridors except the desired path, and the five animals from the storage area willingly joined Teyla's group of three down the hall. A surreal silence reigned as the Athosian guided the small pack through the Operations tower, finally reaching the gate room.
Waiting in the control room, Geisler sprang to his feet and hurried down the steps, relief written openly on his worn features. "I knew they'd come peacefully. They're not built for attack."
"Damnedest thing I ever saw, Doc. Teyla the Pied Piper." With that strange comment, Lome gestured to the gate tech. "Dial it up."
"But-"
The Major put out a hand to stop the paleontologist from approaching one of the animals. "Not here. You'll get your chance. Let's send these critters home."
Teyla stepped back to join Ronon as the activation lights began to circle the Stargate. "You look troubled," she said, making the statement sound like a question.
"I thought they might taste good," he admitted. "I was about to shoot one. I still don't know why I stopped."
Teyla nodded in a way that told him she had no answers for him. "Right now there is much we do not know."
The little dinosaurs didn't appear in the least bit startled by the vortex, and without even a glance back, they scampered through.
Chapter nine
"You know what would improve this place immeasurably? A duty-free store."
Radek opened a cabinet, stuck his arm in up to the shoulder, and came up with a handful of oatmeal cream pies. "Atlantis does not charge an import tax, but your point is well taken. I, too, was hoping fora shopping opportunity."
"I sent one of the more eager airmen off to the nearest Starbucks to stock up for us." Rodney perched on a stepstool to inventory the contents of the highest shelf.
"Most likely he will not make it back in time," Radek warned, catching the pack of pudding cups Rodney tossed down to him. "We are set to leave in less than half an hour."
"If that's the case, he can put it in my locker for our next visit. Given the size and scope of the current crisis, the odds are exceedingly good that we'll be on M1M-316 for about two minutes before being summarily ordered right back here." A large coffee can sat on the counter. Rodney examined the generic label and blew out an aggrieved sigh. "If we need to muddle through with this slag for a while, I suppose it's a sacrifice we'll have to make."
"Martyrs, all," Radek agreed dryly, sliding the can across to join the collection of snacks accumulating on the counter.
The door of the SGC mess hall's stockroom swung open. "We have authorization to do this!" Rodney called defensively, tensing on instinct.
"No, you don't." Sheppard strolled in and started perusing the shelves. "And neither do I, so how about keeping this just between us pals?"
"Areasonable arrangement. In case you wondered, the popcorn is in the third cabinet from the right." Radek tipped his head to indicate the correct location.
Breaking into a sly grin, the Colonel headed in that direction.
"So what did your FBI acquaintance have to say about our unlocked secrets of the universe once she picked her exceptionally well-formed jaw up off the floor?" asked Rodney.
"She's still getting the Stargate 101 crash course from Elizabeth and Dr. Jackson. All I've heard out of her since she first saw the gate room was a mumble along the lines of `They're trying to reach the Stargate. "'
"`They' being the Wraith-succubus-whatever?"
"I guess. Seems like kind of a big leap to me, but then I'm not an FBI profiler who's been on the trail of these things for years."
"Years?" Rodney paused and glanced down at him. Now that he fully grasped the situation, it seemed conceivable that deaths of a similar nature might have been exasperating authorities for generations. "Hmm. I suppose that tracks, given the context "
A stack of microwave popcorn packets tucked into the crook of his arm, Sheppard eyed the large can in the scientists' pile of loot. "Don't we have plenty of coffee on Atlantis?"
"In the mess hall, yes. The inventory control officer, however, tends to get very unpleasant when anyone borrows from the citywide supply. You never should have given that job to a Marine. Have you seen her biceps'? Anyway, we keep a separate stash and a coffeemaker in the labs. It's inefficient to keep going to the mess for refills."
Rodney climbed down from the stepstool and surveyed their take. "This will have to do. As much as I appreciate the opportunity to replenish some of our most critical stores, this visit has been little more than a waste of time and effort. We've accomplished nothing other than acting as bit players to your obligatory weekly Kirk moment. You were correct in your assessment that Radek and I, not Ronon and Teyla, should have been sent to 316 at the outset, but hey, as long as those in charge can make themselves feel better by yanking us around…"
"At the risk of sounding like an apologist for the brass," Sheppard said, leaning against the counter, "the IOA reacted to this threat pretty much the way you did. They hit the panic button."
Wasn't that just typical? "I did not panic," Rodney explained with far more patience than his teammate deserved. "You know I don't function well in enclosed spaces. Add that to the lemon scented booby trap planted in the SUV, which was just asinine-please tell me the base motor pool isn't in charge of pre-flighting our ride home. It would complete my day to discover that some enthusiastic airman decided to polish Jumper One's windshield with lemon Windex."
"Like I said," Sheppard continued evenly, helping Radek load their supplies into a cardboard box appropriated from a neglected corner. "They panicked, and they told all of us supposed Wraith experts to hike our asses back to Earth and do something about it. The mission to 316 was set up as standard recon because the only thing we could be sure of finding there was a really big carnivore. It's an understandable response, knee-jerk or not." He shook his head as he hefted the box up from the floor. "That said, our friends in the IOA need to wake up and recognize that Teyla and Ronon are two of our very best people for the job back here. Being an Earth native shouldn't be an exclusive requirement."