"I think that's a terrific idea," John said, his voice deadly serious. "Why don't you go wait in the briefing room until it's time to dial 316 and check on your handiwork?"
Looking a little pale, Woolsey all but fled the room. Elizabeth motioned John's team, Radek, and Geisler into her office. It was something of a tight squeeze; all of them huddled in a circle in front of her desk like they were setting up a football play. The last one in, Radek closed the door behind him, and all the angry tension seemed to leach out of their bodies.
John bounced on the balls of his feet. "I couldn't see the screen. How did it look?"
"How do you think it looked?" Rodney looked faintly affronted. "The hologram worked brilliantly."
"And so did you and your team, Rodney." Elizabeth sat on a comer of her desk, feeling drained but elated. "You all deserve Academy Awards for that performance, to say nothing of the technical aspects."
The scientist gave a satisfied smirk. "It was simply a matter of manipulating the dialing crystals. Instead of M1M-316, Woolsey sent the bomb to a thoroughly barren chunk of rock that happened to contain trace amounts of naquadah. I'm sure the fireworks were impressive."
"And M1M-316?" Geisler asked.
"Once Mr. Woolsey confirms that the planet's surface has been completely destroyed," answered Elizabeth, "I'll stall him with a few final reports from the botany department on the properties of the ginkgo while Rodney changes the crystals back. He'll march off to Earth and tell the IOA members the threat's been eliminated."
Rodney added, "I'll also update the database at that time to lock 316 out of the system. The records will show that it won't be safe to visit for eighty-one million years, give or take a few millennia."
Geisler's broad smile turned wistful. "I can only imagine the heights its extraordinary residents will have achieved by then."
"Nice work, everyone. Really. Now get back into character in case Woolsey gets up the courage to stick his head out of the briefing room." Elizabeth watched the others leave, taking her brief euphoria with them. She looked up at John, who'd hung back in the doorway.
"Did we do the right thing here?" she asked simply.
John returned and perched on the opposite corner of the desk. "No question about it."
"If the Lilith, or even the Ninlil, ever find a way off Earth-"
"Let's not worry about that unless we have a reason to. They're pretty decimated, and the SGC's got a good handle on homeworld defense."
Elizabeth accepted that response, weaving her fingers together in her lap. Decimated. She resisted the urge to press her military commander for details about what had happened on Earth, knowing he would only recite the facts, never explaining the reasons behind the distant expression she'd seen flicker across his features.
"We have a secret now," she said softly, "one we have no choice but to keep. The instant anyone from the SGC or the IOA learns that M1M-316 was spared, every last one of us will be recalled to Earth, and the expedition, if it continues at all, will go forward with new leadership that will finish the job. While I know we all agreed on this course of action, I can't help feeling like I've put a lot of people in a very difficult position."
With a purposely cavalier shrug, John replied, "I can't speak for anyone else, but I've built up something of a name for myself in the business of following my instincts and risking the wrath of superiors. It'd be a shame to break my streak now. I just wish we could tell Jackson how we flipped the IOA the bird." Sobering, he cast a sidelong glance at her. "Don't put this on yourself, Elizabeth. Like you said, we all agreed. We're in this together, just like we always have been."
It was surprisingly comforting, that last phrase, amid all the uncertainty that seemed to define the Atlantis expedition. This time around, they'd managed to circumvent a militaristic preemptive action toward a perceived threat. Between the dangers posed by the Wraith and the Asurans, however, she feared that such actions might become increasingly attractive, possibly even advisable under some circumstances. Where that would leave her, professionally and personally, she couldn't be sure.
But John was right. They'd figure it out together, as always.
"Thank you," she told him, reaching out to touch his shoulder before standing up. "Shall we go mope and glare at Woolsey until he gets out of our hair?"
"Sounds like a plan." John held out a hand in an `after you' gesture.
Sunlight played over the gate room floor as they crossed the walkway, and Elizabeth felt some of her confidence return. As she'd vowed to herself at the start of this journey, nearly three years ago, she would take each day as it came.