"Com check," John said into his radio. "All scout teams report in."
Marine voices sounded off in rapid succession.
"Alpha here." "Bravo." "Charlie."
"Alpha and Bravo, head out to your assigned areas," John directed. "Any indication of recent activity, let us know ASAP. Charlie, gear up for cave entry. Remember that you're going to have to wade through some water to get where you're going."
"Aye, sir."
John twisted a dial on his handheld radio. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, U.S. Air Force, calling local Army command post. Please respond."
"Army here," came the prompt, accented reply. "Captain Rhodes speaking. I take it you're on the ground, then, Colonel?"
"Just landed. Have you been briefed on the situation?"
"Yes, sir. We've secured the main highway twenty kilometers from your position. Haven't yet dispersed patrol teams."
"Hold off on that for the moment," said John. "Our teams have been inoculated against the virus, so we'll take point."
"Understood, sir. Standing by."
"We'll be in touch. USAF out." John glanced up at the sky. "Huh. Wasn't expecting that." — - — - -- -
Rebecca blinked, realizing belatedly that a light snow had begun to fall. "I thought it was summer here."
"Tasmania's weather systems are notoriously fickle," said Dr. Jackson, zipping his jacket. "It's the first stop for wind systems coming straight off Antarctica."
"We probably only have about an hour of sunlight left." John clipped a P-90 to his vest and pressed a button on some kind of remote control to close the jumper's hatch. "Let's get moving."
As they headed down the walkway through a glen of trees neatly labeled to educate tourists, Rebecca got a fleeting look at a rather intimidating gun concealed in a holster under Ronon's coat. These aliens, apparently, didn't mess around.
The entrance's waiting area, where helpful signs detailed the history and geology of the karst area, was empty. His weapon ready, John clicked his radio with one hand. "Rhodes, Sheppard. We were supposed to meet a pair of guides at the cave entrance. Do you know if they were delayed?"
"They passed our checkpoint an hour ago, Colonel. Look for a Toyota Land Cruiser with a National Parks logo on the door."
John cursed under his breath. "Thanks." Cautiously, he approached the metal door that blocked the entrance itself. "Lock's broken."
"As is this one." Teyla stood by a smaller door within the shelter, shining the light affixed to her weapon inside. "There is a radio on the floor in pieces."
Distantly, it occurred to Rebecca that she had a sidearm and that procedure would suggest she ought to have it unhol- stered. She wasn't sure why she hadn't done so earlier, but she made no move to correct the oversight.
"So much for my very faint hope that this might be simple." John exited the shelter and strode back along the path. "Fall back to the jumper."
Once the group was inside the Ancient ship again and the hatch had closed, cleaner, smoke-free air began to circulate. Rebecca drank it in, hoping it might clear her head. She wasn't sure what was wrong with her, why she felt so… disoriented. John was already relaying what they'd found at the cave entrance via satellite phone to General Landry, who was in continuous contact with the Australian authorities. The pilot's steady voice faded into the background as Rebecca hunted around in the jumper's supply locker, looking for something to eat. If she could just find a snack, get some energy back…
A handful of power bars was the best she could do. Sitting down, she tore into one of them and finished it in three bites. It did nothing to help.
The sun might still be above the horizon, but down here in the glade it was already dark, leaving the jumper's interior lights to take over. John stowed the sat-phone and took a seat next to Rebecca on the long bench. She could feel the heat of his irritation. "It's going to be two hours until we can get another guide out here," he reported. "Landry's orders are to wait. The other teams are in place, but we're just going to have to sit tight."
Teyla stood near the closed hatch, a strange expression on her face. "May I go outside?" she asked abruptly. "I will not go far. I merely want to confirm a perception."
John frowned, obviously recognizing her intent. "Something pinging on your radar'?"
The alien woman gave a single nod. "Not in the way a Wraith would, but…I cannot place it."
Tensing almost imperceptibly, John said, "It's starting to sound like we're in the right place. Go ahead. Stay in visual range." He cast a glance at Ronon, who rose to follow Teyla without a word, and activated his radio. "All teams, be on alert. Teyla might have something. Remember, no one is to enter the caves until you hear my order. And stay in pairs or threes at all times. Don't forget what happened to those cops in Germany."
The hatch opened, and Rebecca could see snow beginning to accumulate on the ground outside, marred by scattered gray flecks of ash from the nearby fires. The fire…
"It was afire, Becca. It happened so fast your mom and dad couldn't get out. "
For years her memory of that awful night had centered on nothing more than those words, or words similar to them, but now she recalled the events much more clearly. She hadn't been sleeping over at a friend's house; her parents had brought her to their friends, to people like them, for her protection, because they had sensed what was coming.
"Can you help me put some pieces together?" John's voice brought her back to the present. "Why is it that you're so sure the Lilith followers want to enslave everyone? Is it in their doctrine somewhere?"
She didn't have an answer for him. She'd barely understood the questions through a dull, constant ringing in her ears, like the background noise of a room full ofpeople. It was a struggle just to concentrate. Jackson was giving some kind of response to John, but instead she heard her parents' voices, suddenly crystal-clear after decades of obscurity.
"They know about her. They know she is the one to free us of our inhuman burden. "
The Lilith followers had discovered young Rebecca's existence; they wanted her dead, as they wanted all heretics dead, but her in particular because… because she was the one. Her parents had cultivated those false memories for her and had given them also to the Watchers who had fed on them and then set fire to the house to cover their actions.
Wait. I'm almost there.
Rebecca stiffened. That voice hadn't been a memory. It had been as real and lucid as the conversation between Dr. Jackson and John.
A burning need, almost like hunger but more compelling, began to overtake her.
She knew things now, so many things about her destiny. After the fire she'd been taken from her hometown and helped to vanish into a new life, with a new name-had her aunt even been a real aunt'? Her parents' friends had realized they could not protect her, had deliberately refused to find out where she'd been taken-because if even one of them had known the secret and been fed upon by a Lilith, the truth of her existence would have been exposed.
The sense of purpose that now drove her was almost blinding, as was the hunger… it was hunger, a consuming need to feed that could not be satiated by any number of power bars.
Resist, Rebecca. We're on the way; we'll help you find what you need.
She understood that need, the desperate hunger that drove men and women to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty that branded them monsters. She'd spent years getting into their heads, tasting their desires. Never until now had she truly comprehended what it was to crave something so powerfully that the pain of denial was enough to make her want to weep. Reason and logic were hindrances as flimsy and transparent as wet tissue.
And yet she clung to them while John and Dr. Jackson talked: about the Ori, about Atlantis, about so many things… None of it mattered, because nothing was as important as the need to feed.