Ronon drew back, steadied himself, and kicked the gate hard. It swung open a few feet, leaving the shallow imprint of the wrought iron on the bottom of Ronon’s boot. It made him feel better.
“It was already open,” Cumby commented. “It’s been open a very long time.”
“Whatever,” Ronon said.
They passed through the gates quickly, taking care not to touch any part of them. Mara paused before passing that border. She turned and stared back at the city, frowning.
“What is it?” Sheppard said, taking her arm.
“Nothing.” She pulled away from him and walked on through the ruined gates.
“I really am sorry.”
She studied him, his face streaked with dust and sweat, too red from the sun, and she sighed. “I know.” And then she was through the gates, slipping into the group and away from Sheppard.
He went through last. It bothered him that he’d had to lie to Mara and if there had been any other way, he wouldn’t have done it. But he’d pay her back — he’d save her from this fiery death.
Before them lay a long stretch of open field, unfettered by trees or ground cover of any kind. Sheppard blinked hard, trying to force the sweat from his eyes.
“I can see the gate,” Ronon offered, pointing into the distance.
Waves of heat roiled over the dead field and in the distance, the gate stood watch. Sheppard nodded and headed off in that direction. Dead grass lashed at their legs and crunched beneath their feet. There were no bugs to fly up into their faces and the sky was completely devoid of clouds. Whatever birds might have dominated the sky had long since died. In that barren, sun-baked landscape, Sheppard and his team were the only living things.
As they approached the gate, Sheppard stepped up to the DHD to activate it. Mara was close on his heels and she wavered where she stood. The sun beat down relentlessly, scorching the tops of their heads and making them all dizzy, despite the fact they’d pulled out jackets and other gear for shade.
“Hang on,” Sheppard said, starting to dial, “we’ll be out of here soon.”
“You are in quite the hurry, Colonel Sheppard.” Saul, looking half-dead from heat and fatigue, emerged from behind the gate. Behind him straggled a handful of guards, equally ragged from the heat. But they were armed and Sheppard didn’t discount them for a moment. “Did they promise to take you with them?” Saul asked Mara. “Is that why you helped them? Did he tell you that he loved you?” Saul’s face was a study in crimson, lost somewhere between crazy anger and pain.
Mara risked a look at Sheppard. The sight of his pained face tugged at her heart and she turned back to Saul. “I helped them because it was the right thing to do.”
“Being loyal to your people isn’t the right thing to do? You’ve spent your whole life with us and yet you betray your city in the end? Is that the right thing to do?”
She didn’t know what to say. She stood, swooning in the heat, her arms limp at her sides.
Sheppard stepped between them, planting his feet firmly and fighting the urge to sit down. “Your type of loyalty leaves a lot to be desired. You force them to a certain death and you call that loyalty? They are loyal to you, you betray them. In any case, forcing us to be a part of it all? How is that ‘the right thing’?”
“Not death, Colonel. Ascension. I’m leading them to a better place, a better plane of existence.”
Sheppard turned on Mara, took her by the shoulders. “You don’t believe that. You know what ascension meant to your ancestors. This isn’t that — this is suicide. This is giving up. You don’t have to die like this. You can come with us. You don’t have to stay.”
“Have you ever believed in something so strongly that you’d give your life for it?” Mara’s eyes burned but no tears would come.
“Of course.”
“That’s how I feel, in a way. I feel like I’ve given my life already, and now it’s time to let it go. I’ve spent my life here, with Saul and the others. Together, we’ve spent our entire lives betting. We bet on everything. Games, chance, life, death…it’s all a gamble. Gambling is the only thing we know. But at the end of it all, the one thing that drives us is the biggest gamble of all — that there’s some sort of meaning in what we do. I think we lost that bet. I know there’s no ascension in this death, but for me — for us — ascension is a belief and a dream that died long ago. I believe we’re going to have to settle for peace.”
He shook her a bit. It was enough to steal her breath in the heat. “But not now. Not this way!”
“Maybe Saul is right. Maybe this is the right time and the right way. The gambit is over. There’s nothing left for us. Our way of life was empty even before Saul steered us toward the sun.”
“Listen to her, Colonel. She speaks the truth.” Saul still looked tortured by the heat but beneath all that, there was a touch of arrogance, self-righteous indignation.
“Come with us.” Sheppard’s eyes pleaded with her. “There’s a better life on the other side of that gate. A whole world. I can show you records of your people, the truth — the real truth. You just have to give me the chance to do it.”
“There’s a better life on the other side of death, as well,” she said. “At least it won’t be more of this.”
Sheppard searched her face but could find no shred of hope there. He nodded and let go of her. Mara stepped down to where Saul stood and let him put one sweat-slickened arm around her shoulders.
“Be well, John Sheppard. And remember me.”
Sheppard nodded, heaved a last, painful sigh. “Cumby,” he said, “dial us up.” She watched them go, one by one, to the safety of that other world. Ronon stepped through first, then Cumby. Sheppard went last, risking one last, agonized glance over his shoulder and pausing just before stepping through the gate. Then he lifted his hand to his head — a salute, she realized. But not for her; his gaze was fixed on the city — the final resting place of his fallen friends. “Dr. Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan,” he said. “We won’t forget you.”
And then his eyes narrowed, peering into the distance, and his hand fell to his side. “What the hell…?”
Chapter Thirty-three
Lorne and his team waited. The gate stood idle but the Wraith were not. Someone on that hive ship knew the team was there, and anything that even smelled odd was going to be checked out thoroughly. Lorne had only one objective: defend the gate at all costs, and watch for the moment Sheppard’s team stepped through. They had no idea what they were crossing into, and it would be up to Lorne to provide cover fire.
He tried to occupy his mind by counting the times Sheppard had saved his life. He wouldn’t let the Colonel down — couldn’t let him down. Lorne just prayed that Sheppard would show up soon, hopefully before the Wraith.
The team was firmly ensconced in a small stand of trees just east of the gate. While the gate was clearly visible, it was some forty meters away. Standing out in the open was suicide. They could better defend the gate from the safety of the woods and, besides the cover, it offered shade. There was no way to know exactly how long they’d be there, and it was best to be prepared.
Lorne heard a small noise, sort of a hum and a whine. He stood very still and listened; he knew the sound only too well.
“Cover,” he barked. “Wraith incoming.”
The dart dropped in over the tops of the trees, closely followed by a second. They cruised by very low, and Lorne knew they’d be scanning for intruders. They were well hidden, but all it would take was a small break in the foliage overhead to give away their position.
“Stay down!” he hissed. He brought his gun up and held it ready, keeping a close watch on the trees, and listening for the next pass.