The apparition hovered motionless before Miruva. The people in the chamber gaped at it in horror, but none of them moved. Moment by moment the air of menace emanating from the Avatar dissipated until McKay found he could breathe again and could observe the device quite dispassionately. Clearly, the emotional response it generated was linked to the emotions of the observer. Clever, really.
“Announce yourself,” Miruva commanded.
“I am TF-34,” replied the Banshee in a scratchy voice. “My function is to provide teleported transportation to Sanctuary. This is the great work. Minimal power readings. I cannot remain instantiated. Shutting-down link.”
The vision guttered and faded out.
“They have been charged with bringing us to the Sanctuary created for us by the Ancestors,” said Miruva. “Their failing power supply has necessitated the transportation without explanation. But now we can access the caves directly, and you’ve seen the way I can control them. Surely you will relent, Father?”
Aralen gazed at her in wonder. “You can control them…”
“Yeah, it’s a gift,” Sheppard said. “All the best people have it.”
Aralen looked up at the symbol, and then back over the gathered crowd in the chamber. An unbroken hush had descended over the hall as the Forgotten awaited his verdict. McKay had an urge to say something, but bit his tongue.
The wait seemed interminable, but finally Aralen took a deep breath. “If you can summon the Banshees at will, how can I fail to take note of what you say? Everything I have clung on to has been turned to ashes.” He looked at Miruva, and his eyes shone with emotion. “My daughter, you have returned to us when we thought you lost. It is time for you to lead our people and fulfill the will of the Ancestors. Lead us to our Sanctuary.”
An expression of profound relief passed between Miruva and Sheppard as the crowd dissolved into excited chatter. The decision had been made, and it was the right one.
McKay elbowed his way through the press of people towards Sheppard. “Glad to have you back,” he called over the hubbub. “But what about Teyla? Ronon? Did you find them?”
“Yeah, my hunch paid out,” replied Sheppard. “They’re in Sanctuary right now. They’ve had a rough ride — I figured they needed the rest.”
“Thank God. When you came back without them, I started to imagine the worst. Not that I’m getting into irrational fears, or anything. But, well, it’s been a bit lonely out on the ice.”
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “I’ll remember you said that,” he said. “Where are we with the Jumper?”
McKay looked troubled. “I can get us airborne,” he said. “Not for long, and probably only for a single flight. But the gate is a dead as stone. And that’s a problem.”
Sheppard smiled, and produced a large tubular item from his furs. “Oh, really?”
McKay let his mouth drop open. It shut again, then fell back.
“My God!” he cried. “A ZPM! Where the hell… Of course. Sanctuary.”
“There was more than one and Miruva says they can spare it — but I don’t think it has much juice left. You can use it, right?”
“Yes. I can. You’ve just brought me our ticket home, Colonel.”
“Glad to be of service,” said Sheppard. “As soon as we’ve got these people to safety there we can — ”
“Wait.” Rodney was appalled. “We’re not leaving now? You do know there’s a storm of utterly monumental proportions coming our way? In fact, the storm of utterly monumental proportions.”
“Yeah, and that’s why we’ve got to get these people underground before we lose the chance.”
McKay looked exasperated. “Is that our job?” he asked. “Did we come here to escort a bunch of primitives into the ground? No. We thought there’d be tech here we could use. There isn’t, and we’re in a lot of trouble. Weir would say the same thing, John, and you know it. We’ve got to get out. Pronto. Let them sort out their own mess.”
“Hey,” Sheppard growled. “Even by your standards, Rodney, that’s a pretty low shot. Maybe we shouldn’t have come here, but we did, and now we gotta help out. We’ve got one shot. We’re gonna get these folks safely underground, and then we’ll power-up the Jumper. That’s it. No debate.”
McKay glared at him for a moment. He didn’t like it, but he’d seen Sheppard in these moods before. They didn’t have the time to fight it out, and he didn’t have the strength. “How long do you need?”
“Same as before. You’ll hardly miss us.”
“A matter of hours?” said Rodney. “A lot can happen in that time. You’ve seen the gate. You know what the ice is doing round here. My God, this is crazy.”
Sheppard drew the proximity meter from his furs and handed it to Rodney.
“Take this,” he said. “It’s got the coordinates of Sanctuary in it. If you can’t get the Jumper started, or something happens to the gate, you’ll know where we’ve headed.”
McKay took the device and looked at it miserably. “That doesn’t make me feel a lot better,” he said. “When that storm hits, all bets are off.”
“You got it,” said Sheppard. “And you know the drill. If we’re not back when you need to get out, don’t wait. That Jumper’s going back to Atlantis, whether we’re on it or not.”
Even after so long on Khost, the cold was astonishing. It seeped into every pore, probed under every flap of fur and leather. Once in the bones, it stayed there.
Sheppard shuddered, pulled his furs more tightly around him, and looked over his shoulder. The entire population of the settlement stretched out behind him, huddling under glowering skies. Once Aralen had given the order, the Forgotten had acted quickly. Many of them had been waiting all their lives for this day. None had been left behind. Years of living in such an unpredictable environment had made them quick to respect the destructive power of the storms, and they followed Aralen’s orders without question.
Sheppard pulled his arms tight around his chest and checked to see if there were any stragglers. The column of people stretched back a long way. He was reminded of the aftermath of combat he’d seen before in the Gulf: lines of refugees leaving their homes, fleeing the destruction of their lives. The situation was not so different. The planet itself was at war with them. What they were doing was the only possible solution.
A gust of wind snagged against his hood and Sheppard shook himself out of his thoughts. He set off again and it took him a few moments to realize that Miruva was walking alongside.
“You OK?” he asked, his voice muffled against the leather facemask.
“They are all here,” she replied. “All that is left of us. You have done a great thing for our people. If you had not arrived when you did…”
“Oh, you’d have found a way outta there in the end,” he said, but not with conviction. The truth was that things were far too tight for comfort. The storm was on their shoulder already. He wondered if it would have been better to have waited it out. But then, according to McKay, there wouldn’t be another chance. This was it. They had to leave before surface travel became impossible.
A sudden gust buffeted him, and Sheppard staggered forward. He almost lost his footing. “I’m getting the hint,” he said. “This place really doesn’t like us,”
Black clouds crouched above them and, in the far distance, flickers of lightning scored the horizon. The wind was growing stronger and the incessant moan of the highlands was being replaced by a higher-pitched whine.
Miruva scanned the sky with practiced eyes. “It’s coming up quickly,” she said. “I’ve not seen one come so fast. I thought we had time to get everyone in before it hit. But these winds…”
She tailed off, looking at the piled clouds with concern.
“We’ll make it,” said Sheppard. “You people are pretty tough.”