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"Pretty nondescript." John peered at the image, which appeared to show an open field. In the middle distance, off to the left of the gate, a stand of tall, arrow-straight trees rose into a gray sky. The ground was rocky, covered in places by scrub grasses. "Anybody home?"

"No sign of it so far," Rodney reported from just behind the engineer's shoulder, where he appeared to be backseat-driving the probe. "Take it twenty meters southwest. No, southwest relative to the MALP. Look, just-turn right and bring it around the side of the gate."

The image on the screen bounced as the MALP trundled along, eventually reaching the edge of a long, descending slope. Judging by the view, the gate appeared to be located on a rise. Partway down, a building was tucked in against the hill. Due to the distance and angle, the camera wasn't able to bring it completely into focus. Rodney straightened and glanced over at the rest of his team. "Well, there's a structure there, at least, but no energy readings. I'm loath to move much further in that direction, because the current perspective suggests uneven terrain. I'd rather not flip the MALP."

"Easy enough for us to check out, though," Ronon said. "Looks like a short hike."

Rodney spun toward him. "Now that you've brought it up, we need to discuss your definition of a `short hike.' Last time-"

John cut him off. "Rodney."

"I'm just saying, I get blisters."

Elizabeth watched the camera pan back across the unremarkable landscape and wished for some of her lost optimism back. Once, she had approached each new mission with a sense of eager anticipation, thinking of the knowledge they might uncover. Now, as often as not, her thoughts were dominated by the hazards they might face.

The International Oversight Authority had made it clear, after a hive ship had learned the location of Earth, that her decisions were being scrutinized-always after the fact, and from a galaxy away, but scrutinized. While.) ob security was hardly her first priority, she understood that the risks taken by the expedition had to be carefully managed. They took enough necessary risks out here that they couldn't afford to entertain any unnecessary ones.

But John was right. They couldn't simply cross their fingers and hope for a defense against their adversaries to fall into their laps.

"How's the atmosphere on the planet?" she asked Rodney.

"Breathable. Nothing in the way of toxins, radiation, et cetera. Temperature is a comfortable nineteen-"

"Sixty-six," John corrected under his breath.

"Must you do that?"

"Gentlemen." There were days, Elizabeth reflected, when working with her top advisors felt a lot like herding cats.

"And, last but certainly not least," Rodney continued as if he hadn't heard, "there's a DHD."

"All right." She looked at each team member in turn. "Does anyone foresee any other areas of concern for this mission?"

Ronon and Teyla shook their heads. Rodney pulled his pack onto his shoulder, while John crossed the room to retrieve his vest and P-90. "Elizabeth, I think the biggest concern we should have right now is the chance that we'll come up empty."

No excuses, then. "In that case, I guess you have a go." She caught her military commander's gaze and held it. "Be safe."

Teyla exited the gate with her weapon raised, visually sweeping the area. She often found that the small camera on the probe did not effectively convey to her a real sense of the planets they visited. Perhaps it was because she had lived most of her life without such pictures, but she did not find the same diversionary value in movies and television that the Earth team did. Colonel Sheppard and the Marines seemed enthralled whenever they received new recordings of sporting events, but she found their informal games on Atlantis far more entertaining, because their determination, their enthusiasm, was genuine and palpable. When watching a flat image on a screen, there was very little to feel.

Here, she had expected to find more depth of color than the N ALP screen had shown. In this case, however, the picture had been accurate. She could see that the forest surrounded two-thirds of the perimeter of the elevated plain, the ground sloping down to meet the trees. The remainder was open to a range of sizable mountains in the north, many miles away. To her left sat the gate's dialing pedestal, blending in with the muted grays and greens of the landscape.

Before long, Rodney had stowed his weapon in favor of a handheld scanner from his pack. "You're a trusting soul," John remarked, his P-90 still held at the ready.

"Not really," the scientist replied absently, focused on calibrating the scanner. "I figure I have the worst reflexes on the team, so if anything unpleasant pops up, any one of you is far more likely to take care of it before I can even aim.

He didn't see John's answering grin, but Teyla shared it. Trust came in many forms, after all.

"Keep your eyes open," John told them. "I'm gonna send the MALP home."

By unspoken agreement, she and Ronon took up positions on either side of the pedestal, watching the forest for any movement, as their team leader pressed the symbols of Atlantis's address.

John tapped his radio as soon as the wormhole was established. "Control, this is Sheppard. So far, so good. Go ahead and recall the MALP."

In response, the machine obligingly rolled toward the gate and vanished into a ripple of blue.

"MALP received," Elizabeth reported. "Good luck. Radio check in eight hours."

"Understood." John closed the connection and turned to Rodney. "Anything yet?"

"Maybe." Rodney checked his watch and then squinted at the readout. "I'm getting what looks like a hit for electromagnetic energy, but something's squirrelly."

"Squirrelly?" Even the other Earth native on the team looked bemused by his choice of words.

Waving a dismissive hand, Rodney clarified, "As in odd, bizarre, downright wrong. Look at your watch."

John obeyed. "09:12 Atlantis time."

"And it's still ticking, right? If these readings were correct, the second hand would have stopped dead as soon as we stepped out of the gate. The EM level's that high. Supposedly."

"Could your equipment be broken?" Ronon asked.

Rodney fixed him with a patronizing look. "Gosh, it never occurred to me to check that before leaving on a vital mission. Why don't you check your gun, too, just in case?"

"Settle down," John advised. "Is there any reason to think what you're reading could be dangerous?"

"No. Even if it were a legitimate result, it wouldn't hurt us, and most Ancient equipment is shielded from EM interference." Lifting his head, Rodney pointed toward the trees behind the gate, where the ground sloped away from them. "Unsurprisingly, the readings are coming from the direction of the structure located by the MALP, so we might as well head that way."

Continuing to keep watch as they walked south, Teyla raised her eyes to the slate-colored sky. As she glanced behind them, a sudden trail of light over the mountains drew her focus. "A starfall," she commented.

Turning, John followed the direction of her outstretched hand just before the light winked out. "On Earth, they say you're supposed to make a wish when you see a shooting star."

"Only mutant crickets say that," Rodney grumbled from the front of the group. Teyla didn't bother asking for an explanation of the peculiar statement.

John shook his head. "I bet you traumatized a lot of babysitters as a kid, Rodney."

"Only one. I was ten, and she couldn't figure out my trig workbook. I merely pointed out to her that I might have been better equipped to supervise her than vice versa." When Rodney finally deigned to glance up at the sky, he frowned. "Huh. You know, that might not have been a meteorite."