He cast a baleful gaze at the snowcapped mountains. Typical of the gleeful spite with which the universe seemed to be treating him these days. To compound the situation, a half dozen Marines assigned to accompany them were sporting fleece-lined jackets with `CDC' logos on the front and back.
Valiantly suppressing a shiver, Rodney eyed the crusted rime of ice on the windscreen of the government-issue SUV provided to the rest of the team. "Does it have four-wheel drive?"
"We're going to the coroner's office, not up Pikes Peak," Sheppard replied. "It's not even snowing." He'd gotten the keys to both vehicles from the timid motor pool sergeant simply by virtue of being the only officer in the group, Rodney was sure. Wearing a uniform that looked stiff with disuse as well as starch, the Colonel climbed into a refrigerated biohazard truck also marked `CDC' with an unconscious air of authority. Although Rodney knew the blue dress shirt under that leather aviator jacket wasn't made for warmth, the man didn't even look chilly, damn him.
"That's no predictor of whether or not it will start snowing. And try to remember that Chevrolets don't read your mind."
As if to further taunt him, Sheppard then tossed the SUV keys to Radek.
"Oh for pity's sake," Rodney objected. "At least let Dr. Jackson drive." He pivoted toward the archeologist. "Presumably you've been behind the wheel more recently than six months ago, and in this country?"
"I always enjoy exploring unfamiliar roads," Radek said pleasantly, tugging on a pair of warm-looking gloves; where he'd managed to find them Rodney would very much liked to have known.
As she so often did, Elizabeth put an end to the discussion. She held out a hand to Radek. "If it'll make you feel any better, Rodney, I'll drive." With a tolerant smile, she added, "You don't have any objections to that, do you?"
Taking some comfort from the fact that Elizabeth at least knew the Colorado Springs area, Rodney climbed into the front passenger seat and slammed the door behind him. Just as Elizabeth put the SUV in gear, he noticed Lam, also wearing one of the CDC jackets, climb into the truck beside Sheppard. Rodney supposed it made sense that they would have such vehicles on standby, given the nature of some of the life forms that had made their way through the gate and even, occasionally, escaped.
The thought crossed his mind that a Wraith must have somehow sneaked through the gate or stowed away aboard the Daedalus. It wasn't inconceivable. After all, a Goa'uld had hitched a ride to Pegasus inside Colonel Caldwell. However, that notion died almost before it was born, because if Jackson was correct and the various succubus myths were in fact based on Wraith attacks, it meant that the creatures had been on Earth for centuries, if not longer.
The four of them in the SUV weren't a terribly professional group in appearance; more like a bunch of ill-equipped tourists looking for a ski resort. Rodney wondered exactly what this cover story was supposed to entail. As Elizabeth pulled out of the parking lot, though, he ran out of trivialities to help cover his anxiety over everything they'd just learned. The lead weight that had settled in his stomach upon seeing that footage of Woolsey's cousin quickly made its presence known again.
Somebody had to start the unavoidable conversation, and so Rodney took it upon himself. "If there have been Wraith wandering around here years before we woke up their Pegasus compatriots, we need to seriously reevaluate what we know about their goals and methods °"
"They are not Wraith," Radek stated from the seat behind him. "They are-"
"Oh, and you're basing that assessment on your extensive experience in a hive ship cocoon?" Rodney snapped his fingers. "Wait, no, I'm sorry-that was me."
"Gentlemen, are we really going to have that contest?" Their driver pointedly inclined her head toward the other vehicle in their small caravan.
Rodney conceded Elizabeth's point, albeit not out loud. When it came to Wraith encounters, nobody, not even Ronon, could claim to have had one quite like Sheppard's.
He moved on by twisting around in the seat to glare at Radek. "While we're on the subject of what each of us knows, at what point were you going to clue everyone in on your follow-up to Carson's project?"
"When you stopped grumbling long enough to let me. I am still waiting."
From the other back seat, Jackson leaned forward to address Elizabeth. "They always like this?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "More or less. Rodney's being particularly charming today."
"Your support is heartwarming," Rodney groused. "If I'd had something marginally more nourishing than a Snickers bar for breakfast-"
"Eighteen months ago," Radek said, interrupting, "Carson asked me to write a macro that would allow him to analyze his genetic data more comprehensively." He took off his glasses, which were starting to fog in the rapidly warming SUV. "Some of us are willing to contribute to interdisciplinary research. Some of us even view biological studies as something higher than voodoo."
Objecting almost on instinct, Rodney snapped, "I never called it `voodoo'!"
"More than once," the Czech informed him, unruffled. "Also `farm science' on one occasion."
Had he really dismissed Carson that harshly, and that regularly? Rodney covered a stab ofremorse by pressing his offensive. "If I did, it was only because you were dedicating an unwarranted amount of your time to playing code monkey for a largely theoretical project when you could have been-"
"Working on your research instead'? Were you really so lost without my help'?"
"Radek." Elizabeth already sounded weary. In the rearview mirror, Rodney caught a glimpse of Jackson's rolled eyes. Maybe SG-1 wasn't into the sibling rivalry dynamic.
Coming back to the point, Radek said, "To be accurate, I should say that these attackers are not precisely Wraith."
"It's like I was saying in the briefing," Jackson supplied. "They're succubus, or incubus in the case of males."
Turning to face the road, Rodney tapped impatient fingers on his armrest and wished fervently that he'd gotten at least one more cup of coffee before starting out on this trip. "Aside from the medieval connotations, what exactly does that mean?"
"While Carson worked to isolate the ATA gene, he also found other genes worthy of note," Radek continued. "According to him, not long ago such genes would have been labeled junk DNA, considered useless to our understanding of the human genome. Carson, of course, knew better. The genes he identified-and he was the first to admit that there were many more besides-are actually viral DNA. Geneticists refer to them as endogenous retroviruses."
"Whoa, hold on a minute." That word set off a mental warning bell for Rodney. "Generally speaking, I'm not a big proponent of anything retrovirus related, since that category includes the iratus virus."
"That is so," acknowledged Radek. "Most retroviruses of this type are inactive, however. The term `endogenous' means that the viral DNA actually inserted itself, or was inserted deliberately, into human genetic code."
"Deliberately?" Rodney echoed. Feeling his earlier spike of panic intensify in amplitude, he barely noticed that the snow he'd earlier predicted had in fact started to fall.
"Carson cross-referenced many of his findings with the Mitochondrial Eve project, which traced the matrilineal heritage of all living humans back to a common female ancestor. He discovered that the first incidence of the ATA gene in humans occurred ten thousand years ago-"
"And that fact should come as a shock to precisely no one, since we already know that the Ancients arrived on Earth at that time." He shot a scathing look at Radek. "Can we possibly aim for speed over style in this explanation?"