Cheery thought. "And what's your plan'?"
"Acquire the ginkgo without alerting the disastrous experiment known as the Wraith, create a vaccine using the ginkgo and the mutated virus in Rebecca's blood, and slowly and carefully introduce it into the human population so that the Awakening is eased for all concerned. The Awakened will be given live animals to feed upon as soon as the compulsion takes hold. They'll never need to feed from a human-most people are averse to the idea due to deeply ingrained principles of ethical behavior. That's what saved you when Rebecca Awakened."
"Handing them chickens and goats instead will probably piss off a lot of vegetarians," John commented.
Anata's smile returned. "The feeding will be far more merciful than what currently takes place in a slaughterhouse. More to the point, in the long term you'll have a force capable of going up against the Orici, if necessary, and certainly the Wraith. All the IOA has to do is allow genetic modification on a global scale. Oh, and declassify the Stargate to explain everything while they're at it. Tell me, what do you think the chances are of them going along with that plan?"
Just once, John would really appreciate it if the solution to a problem turned out to be obvious and straightforward.
Before he could answer, the low undercurrent of voices resonating off the cave walls grew louder. He looked up to see people hurrying toward the cavern he thought of as an armory. Abruptly, Anata dropped her mug and ran to join them.
John followed, watching weapons being distributed with alarming speed. "What's going on?" he demanded, afraid he already knew the answer.
"We have guests. The ones you call Lilith know Rebecca is here, and they want her dead. To them she is an abomination. I had hoped we would have more time, but if this is how we are to make our stand, then so be it." Anata snatched up an AK-47. "You can leave through the sinkhole if you choose. This is our fight and-"
From a distance, the first sharp reports of discharging automatic weapons echoed through the caves.
The choices weren't great: take sides in a succubus crusade, or roll the dice and attempt to repeat that marathon swim-this time without help. Of course, if John chose the swim and somehow managed to pull it off, he'd find himself stranded in the middle of an inferno. His teams on the surface must have been either driven back by the fires or overrun by the Lilith. As much as he hoped it was the first option and not the second, the difference didn't change his immediate situation. For now, he was on his own, and he wasn't sure they could afford to let the Lilith win this fight.
"I shoot best with a P-90, if you've got any," he said, reaching for a few spare clips of ammunition. "I think we're all in this together, whether everyone out there knows it or not."
Chapter thirty-one
Years ago, when Ronon's existence had been defined by running and fury and hopelessness, he'd often contemplated the best manner in which to die. All the variations had centered on taking out as many Wraith as possible in the process. None of them had involved burning to death trapped and alone.
For that reason, he didn't plan to bum. Even in the middle of the ever-changing fire, he'd managed to retain his sense of direction, and he knew he was close to the main entrance to the cave. All he had to do was get through the flames that stood between him and that opening.
He sprinted along a creek, the water far too warm as it splashed into his boots. A thermal area, he remembered Rodney saying earlier. In front of him, a huge branch splintered at the point where it joined the tree trunk and started to fall. On instinct, Ronon threw himself into the shallow water on his hands and knees and rolled around to saturate his clothes and hair as best he could.
The branch plummeted to the ground in an explosion of sparks, knocking over a pair of nearby tree ferns as it crashed across his path. The ferns, maybe still damp from the melted snow, didn't ignite right away. They bought him a few seconds, which he used without hesitation.
He took a running start, jumped up onto the shriveling fronds and leapt through the wall of flames. Intense, unimaginable heat assaulted every part of his body, but his coat shielded most of his skin. Emerging on the other side, he found a set of steps and a ramp he recognized as leading to the cave.
At the top of the steps, he caught a quick glimpse of a boot through the smoke. Someone was running ahead of him. Ronon took the steps three at a time, each breath getting shallower as he felt the heat scorching his lungs.
"Ronon!"
He identified the voice as Daniel Jackson's. Following it, he made for a gray smudge amid the sea of orange. As soon as he crossed into the dark, cool entrance of the cave, the door slammed shut behind him.
Ronon leaned back against a wall and inhaled deeply, tasting the moisture in the air.
Breathing hard, sweat streaking through the soot on his face, Jackson offered, "Fancy meeting you here."
Hands pounding out a lock of hair that had started to smolder, Ronon smirked. The archeologist was just the kind of doctor he could work with.
After taking a few seconds more to recover, Jackson reached for his radio. "Jumper One, this is Daniel Jackson. Ronon and I are safe in the cave for the moment."
No response came. Ronon tried his own radio. "All jumpers, come in. Anyone hear me?" Nothing-not even static. He glanced back at the heavy door separating them from the blaze outside. "Maybe the door's too thick to let the signal through."
"I don't think that's it." Jackson aimed the light affixed to his P-90 down a set of steps. The beam was soon swallowed up by the black void. Changing tactics, he played his light over the nearer walls until he found a rusty box mounted on one side. "Aha. This is a show cave," he explained, opening a panel on the box with one hand while illuminating it with his weapon in the other. "It's been made accessible so tourists can come in and look around."
He flipped a set of switches, and the cave was suddenly awash in light. Looking over the rail, Ronon could see steps descending to an open area.
Bending down, Jackson picked up an abandoned flashlight and handed it to Ronon. He also located a handheld radio and a couple of crumpled pieces of paper advertising some kind of singing concert.
The flashlight and radio served as reminders that others had been here recently, though the warning was unnecessary. The missing park guides and the broken padlock had been clear enough. Ronon drew his blaster and started down the steep steps, listening for any sign of movement or noise in the cave.
At the bottom, a shallow pool, so clear and still that at first he wasn't certain it even contained water, ran alongside a section of flowstone covered in rows of bench seats. While Jackson looked around what he described as pews, Ronon climbed the next set of steps, which had been partially cut into the existing stone and finished with the artificial rock called cement. The cave was large, its layout complex. He was almost to the top step when Jackson said, "They use this place as a concert chamber."
Although he'd used a normal speaking voice, the sound resonated throughout the cavern. Ronon felt the air shift and turned toward a darkened passage off to his left. Was something down there?
He glanced down. Standing motionless at the bottom of the cave, the other man studied the walls with a thoughtful expression. "Sansenoy," Jackson intoned.
The word echoed for some time, reverberating under Ronon's feet and even through his hand where he grasped the guardrail. He watched Jackson as he spoke again, understanding the idea. As weapons went, it didn't seem like much, but it might be better than nothing.