“Yes,” Zelenka said. “We don’t have much information on the world on the far side. Rodney’s message said he can’t be certain it will support life, but it must have supported some type of life at one point, or there wouldn’t be a gate. He gave no more detail and there’s no time to send a MALP…”
Woolsey cut him off. “Is the team ready?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then let’s get this operation underway.” Woolsey turned to where the team waited, their equipment packed and ready and their eyes bright.
“Normally, I would be the last person to send you blind into a new world,” he said. “But today we have no choice. Major Lorne?”
Lorne stepped forward with a crisp salute. “Sir.”
“Take up a secure position around the gate and wait,” Woolsey said. “You’ll be on your own until Colonel Sheppard dials in from Admah.”
“Understood, sir.” Lorne replied. “We’ll bring them back.”
Woolsey nodded. “I know you will, Major. Good luck.” He turned to Zelenka. “Ready?”
“Ready sir.”
Zelenka began to dial. The symbols lit and came to life, one character at a time, and after a moment the space in the circle grew brighter, and the gate surged open. The event horizon shivered, and then settled.
The team stood for just a moment, watching it, and then they moved forward, one after the other, plunging into the wormhole and disappearing from sight. When the last of them had passed through and the gate had closed, Zelenka turned to Woolsey. The two men held one another’s gaze for a long moment, then turned in opposite directions and walked away.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Ronon sat in one corner of the holding cell, his legs propped up and eyes closed, pretending to sleep. The steady click of computer keys lulled him, but he heard something beneath that; something farther away and growing louder. His muscles tensed and his eyes slid open just as the doors did.
Three of Saul’s guards stood in the opening, brandishing their weapons. “You! Come with us!”
The guard pointed directly at Rodney. Rodney looked behind him, to each side, then back to the guard. “Me?”
“You are the one that Saul wants. It’s your time. Let’s go.”
The guard took one slow step forward and Rodney was on his feet. He managed to keep the laptop concealed behind him, and Cumby, who’d been sitting beside him, moved as if to grab Rodney and stop him. When the guards were momentarily distracted, he slid the laptop behind his back.
“You don’t want me,” Rodney said. “I’m no fighter. I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag. Ask any of them.”
Ronon stood up and crossed the room in three quick steps. He stood toe to toe with the guard, staring daggers at him. Another half a step, and their chests would have bumped. The guard brought his weapon up and trained it directly on Ronon’s face.
“He’s right,” Ronon said. “You want entertainment, and that means you want me. This one won’t last five minutes. He’ll be dead before the doors even close on him. I can take anything you throw at me.”
The guard said nothing in response, only glared into Ronon’s steely eyes.
“Take me instead.” Cumby stepped forward and inserted himself into the tiny space between Ronon and the guard, pressing them apart. “What you really want, what your entertainment needs, is me. What better entertainment than someone who can use brains instead of brawn? Colonel Sheppard lied before — I have the gene, and I can use your weapons. I’m smaller than he is,” he nodded at Ronon, “but I can fight.”
The guard let his gaze trickle over Cumby; he smirked, but said nothing.
“You won’t be disappointed, I assure you.”
“Forget them. He fights like a girl,” Ronon said. He turned toward Rodney, “And he’ll faint like a girl.”
“Hey!” Rodney said. Then, as if thinking about what he was doing, he added, “He’s right, of course. I’d probably just pass out. He’s the warrior. He’s the one you want.”
“Come on,” Ronon laughed. “Wouldn’t you rather see me take on that beast? I know I would.”
“Enough!” The guard pushed Ronon aside and stepped around to where Rodney stood, seizing him by the arm. His partner flanked him and they held Rodney between them. “What I want doesn’t matter. I have orders to bring this one to the arena. Now, step aside before we put you out of your misery.”
“Hey! Wait!” Rodney’s heels scuffed along the floor as the guards dragged him toward the doors. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”
Ronon moved to follow, but Cumby grabbed his arm. He couldn’t have restrained the bigger man, but the last guard had his weapon trained on Ronon and he didn’t look like he would hesitate to use it. Ronon shook free, but not before Rodney had been dragged into the outer room.
The doors shut on the three of them and Rodney’s whining voice grew muffled and more distant.
“He’s going to be killed out there. He won’t stand a chance,” Cumby said.
Ronon’s jaw tensed and he began to pace. “We should have done more. We should have stopped them.”
“Yeah, sure we should, because that worked so well last time,” Cumby said dryly. “They would have just shot you, and you’d be no good to anyone.”
“I know, but to just let him be taken like that?”
He dropped heavily onto the stout chair in the far corner of the room and turned away. Cumby held his silence.
“Hey! How’s about slowing down a bit, huh?” Rodney said. “Sheesh! By the time we get wherever we’re going, I’ll be too exhausted to fight.”
He alternately dragged his heels to gain time, and struggled to keep up with the two larger guards as they hauled him in and out of elevators, down corridors, and finally into the staging area. He heard the roar of the crowd all around him, muffled a bit by walls but nonetheless disconcerting. He felt disoriented, and things around him passed in a haze. His nerves were badly frayed. He needed to concentrate, but he was terrified, and that sense of dread grew each moment he drew closer to — what? He had no idea what sort of creature he would be fighting. His knees began to shake.
First, he was relieved of his jacket and shoes, and then redressed in armor. It was made of a very light metal and shone like silver, even in the dim light. There were crystals embedded in the surface, forming a pattern. He’d never seen it, but he recognized it as the work of the Ancients. As he waited, he chattered to himself nervously, eyes darting around, trying to get some glimpse of something that would tell him what he was up against.
“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re a smart guy. You’ll find a way out of this. Sheppard won’t just leave you out here to die. He never does. Besides, you prepared for this. You’re ready.”
Guards and trainers jerked him around, thrusting him this way and that, shoving things at him and barking orders.
“Maybe the weapons will give me some idea what creature I’m fighting. Don’t panic, Rodney. You’ll get through this. You always do.” And then, “Hey! Watch it! I bruise easily. Don’t I at least get a chance to practice?”
“Stop complaining. Your friend was right about you,” the guard growled.
“Oh yeah? Well, you may have giant mutant creatures, but I have a secret weapon.” Rodney smiled and nodded, tapped his head. “Besides, I don’t see any of you jumping into that arena.”
Ronon leaped up from his seat in the corner when the view screen opened. Cumby was on his feet already, leaning against the wall by the door. He turned his head and frowned. “That was fast. Didn’t they even take the time to show him how the weapons work?”