Clearly none of the locals had been this far into their vaunted Hall, or they would have tidied up. Past a certain point, many of the lamps that lined the walls were inoperable, their transparent sheaths smashed on the floor.
"Could these areas have been damaged in the Wraith attack?" Wen asked, switching on his flashlight. "We must be closer to the surface than before."
Rodney had noted the slight incline of the corridor, but it wasn't a steep enough gradient to have brought them anywhere near the crest of the hill. He'd lost any sense of where they were in relation to the gate ages ago. "If the alternate entrance is located on the side of the hill, maybe." Which was possible. The entrance they'd used had been on what he considered to be the back of the rise, nearest the Falnori forest and opposite the land leading to the Nistra mountains. Neither group would have had any reason to go looking for a hidden entrance in their version of a demilitarized zone.
Slowing his pace, Rodney aimed his flashlight into a lab along the way. The room did bear some resemblance to the ruined building on the surface, with equipment strewn across the floor. Something about it all didn't quite fit, though.
"The walls and ceiling are completely intact," he said, mostly to himself. "Nothing in here shows any fire damage. I don't think the Wraith did this."
"Someone else came in here and trashed the place?" Kendall didn't appear too pleased by that concept.
"Well, Cestan did seem rather ticked off about some alleged Nistra break-ins. Maybe he was telling the truth."
The trio moved with a little more caution after that. Rodney told himself that the odds of anyone else poking around in here at this particular moment were so low as to be negligible. For one thing, a half-dozen Marines and a really intimidating Satedan were patrolling the gate area. Granted, the alternate entrance was, in all likelihood, some distance away from the gate area… Oh, hell, was that a noise?
He whipped around to look at Wen and Kendall, whose alarmed expressions confirmed his suspicions. And just when had he ended up in front of them?
Flattening himself against the wall, he shut off his light and listened intently. Voices could now be heard reflecting off the smooth walls, weak reverberations making the words indistinguishable.
Rodney inched forward, trying to view the situation objectively. If they needed to contact anyone for help, using the alternate entrance would be more practical than going back the way they'd come. It was closer, and it might enable them to use their radios, which didn't transmit well through so much rock and reinforced structure.
That, of course, presumed they could get to the alternate entrance. When he summoned his courage to peek around the next corner, he spotted faint light emanating from two sources: the doorway to another lab, and an opening at the far end of the corridor. The opening had to be the alternate entrance; it appeared to be a large hatch set high in an inward-angled wall, positioned at the top of a three-meter ladder. The people who had left it ajar were almost certainly the owners of the voices he heard coming from the illuminated lab.
Crouching low, Rodney risked a quick glance into the room. He counted at least five people ransacking its contents, holding up items for inspection and stuffing some of them into oversized packs. Every so often someone would offer an opinion on a device's value, occasionally prompting an argument. Judging by their well-made clothes and the pistol-style guns at their belts, they had some experience in this arena.
Rodney turned to instruct Kendall and Wen and found them well within his personal space. Deliver me from amateurs. A decisive shoving motion conveyed his irritation, and they shuffled backward. The military had hand signals for these things. Unfortunately, the military wasn't here. Damn it, why had they picked today to cave in to unreasonable native rules when the natives themselves weren't playing fair?
If these pirate rejects were natives, a fact of which Rodney wasn't at all certain. He hadn't seen clothes or weapons like that on any of the Falnori or Nistra rep resentatives, to be sure, but it would be the height of naivete to presume that he'd seen every charming facet of this planet. And how likely was it that someone had gotten through the gate without alerting the guards? Of course, these people could have arrived days ago, for all anyone knew. Reports of the scavenging gang once led by Colonel Maybourne came to mind.
In any case, he had precious little time to wonder about it. Feeling ridiculous, Rodney pointed at the hatch, mimed a running action with two fingers, and jammed one of those fingers against his lips to emphasize the need for silence. His companions nodded vigorously, wide-eyed.
It wasn't so hard. All they had to do was get past the doorway without being seen and then up the ladder without being heard. The Marines could take it from there.
Rodney ineffectually willed his pulse to quit racing and waited until the raiders got themselves embroiled in another argument. As the dispute grew louder, he bent as low as his knees would allow and hustled across the doorway. Wen and Kendall weren't far behind.
No one seemed to have noticed, if the ongoing insults inside the lab were any indication. Exhaling a long-held breath, Rodney grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed toward the hatch. For all their faults, the Ancients built things to last, even ladders. His ascent was accompanied by not a single squeak. Two more rungs and-
The barrel of a gun greeted him almost as quickly as the daylight. Behind it, a raider eyed him, looking amused.
In his head, Rodney cursed his lack of foresight. What self-respecting bunch of thugs wouldn't leave a guard outside to stand watch?
"Crap!" hissed Kendall below him. "Sergeant, we're close by and we need help-"
The attempted radio call was aborted when the raider hauled Rodney through the hatch, tossed him aside, and aimed at Kendall instead.
That settled it. Local customs be damned. From now on, assuming he survived the day, Rodney wasn't going as far as the bathroom without a sidearm.
Chapter seven
In many circumstances, Teyla enjoyed negotiating treaties. She found well-reasoned debate to be stimulating, and there was always much to learn about new societies and potential allies.
However, such talks could also be singularly frustrating. This one was already falling into the latter category.
No one had initiated any physical attacks, but the arguments so far had been heated. Neither ruler seemed willing to believe any statements made by the other. Teyla admired Elizabeth's patience. Atlantis's leader had not reacted to any of the inflammatory claims put forth except to press for more information. She gave no indication of leaning toward either side.
Of course, John and Major Lorne appeared unbiased as well. They looked as though they wanted nothing more than for the proceedings to end.
"Minister Galven, you spoke of many Nistra being in poor health," Elizabeth commented. "Could you elaborate?"
Galven's tone now sounded more despondent than accusatory. "Our winters are harsh, and we have less to sustain us than we once did. The hunting clans provide what they can, but every person who hunts is another person unavailable for the mines. And mining is arduous work which cannot be done by all."
"Your people are threatened by hunger, then?"
The minister hesitated slightly, as if the description was not quite accurate. "We are weakened, more susceptible to disease. For many the weakness first manifests itself in the mind."