“Hey, what are you doin’ up here?” said Sheppard, failing to disguise his concern. “We were coming to find you, and there were doctor’s orders.”
Teyla smiled. John’s anxiety was touching, but after several hours sleep in the warmth of the valley she thought she was probably in better shape than they were. Both men looked exhausted.
“I am much better,” she said, ignoring her persistent headache. “This place is good for healing. The Forgotten will find it so as well.”
“Well I’m glad to hear it. Right now, I need to take five.”
Sheppard slumped down on the floor against the wall, Teyla and Ronon either side of him. Around them, the Forgotten continued to come and go, all but oblivious to them. Cries of delight echoed down the corridors as long-sundered friends were reunited.
“Tell me what has happened,” said Teyla.
“It’s a real heartwarming story,” said Sheppard. “We’ve got the perfect storm up there, but these guys are safe.”
Ronon grunted. “Not looking forward to going back out there.”
“You and me both, but we don’t have a whole heap of options.” Sheppard closed his eyes, head back against the wall. He looked exhausted. “Besides, Rodney’s on his own and you know how much he enjoys that.”
Teyla’s brow furrowed with concern. Amid all the excitement at getting the Forgotten into Sanctuary, she had forgotten about Dr McKay. “He is not with you? The surface is no place to be on his own. Someone should have stayed with him.”
“Hey, he’ll be fine. The Jumper’s back up to full power. Anyhow, someone had to keep an eye on the Stargate. Let’s just say the ice beneath it isn’t entirely… reliable.”
“Sounds bad,” said Ronon.
“It is.”
“And we could’ve headed back hours ago…”
“Trust me, I heard it all from McKay.” Sheppard sighed. “Sometimes it sucks being the good guys.”
“You said it.”
“What is done is done,” Teyla said sharply. “Is the storm still blowing? Can we afford to wait it out?”
Sheppard shook his head. “Not unless you want to wait about nine thousand years.”
Before she could answer, Miruva and Orand approached, walking hand in hand. Beside them, Aralen hobbled, too proud to use a stick despite the arduous journey. His long-mourned wife supported him, and they leaned on one another closely. Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla rose to meet them.
“Teyla, you are well,” said Miruva. “That makes this day perfect. We cannot thank you enough. We would never have discovered it without you.”
“Oh, I dunno,” said Sheppard, putting a brave face on their own problems. “You’d have probably figured it out in time. We just gave you a little push.”
“But without that push we would all be dead,” Aralan said. All trace of bitterness had gone from his voice. “I see now that this is our future — and that it is clearly the will of the Ancestors.” He looked at his wife in affection and wonder. “We have all gained more than we could have hoped. I was wrong to judge you, Colonel Sheppard.”
“Aw, forget it,” said Sheppard, waving his hand dismissively. “If I’d been in your position, I’d have done the same. Can’t be a leader and let yourself get pushed around by a bunch of scruffy-looking travelers.”
Aralen smiled, though the expression was tinged with sadness. “A leader no more,” he said. “All things change.”
Without asking, Teyla knew who to address. “Con-gratulations,” she said to Miruva, clasping her hand. “You will be a fine Foremost of your people.”
Miruva looked at Orand, and they both grinned. “Not just me,” she said, pride evident in her voice. “There is much for us to do, and all skills will be needed. When the route to the surface has been made safe, then we must start the work of exploring this place. Even with the gene, it will take us many years to uncover its mysteries.”
“What’ll you do about the tunnels?” said Ronon.
“We will preserve them,” said Orand. “We cannot allow ourselves to become trapped. We will explore them for new resources and one day, when the planet is restored, we will use them to return to the surface.”
“Good,” said Ronon. “Hate to think all that wandering around was for nothing. Gotta admit, I didn’t think we’d ever get out.”
“Do not even think of that,” said Miruva. “You were all preserved, and that is enough. But what will you do now?”
“We gotta go,” said Sheppard. “Much as it looks nice around here.”
“Dr McKay is with our vessel,” said Teyla. “He thinks that we can still use the Stargate to return home.”
Aralen frowned. “You mean to return to the ice? The storm will still be fierce.”
“We have no choice,” said Teyla. “If the portal fails us, we will be stranded here — it is our only route home.”
“I wish you could stay,” said Miruva. “There is still much to learn about this place.”
Sheppard gave a grim smile. “Rodney would’ve liked to see it,” he said. “He’ll be mad as hell when we tell him what’s down here.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Orand. “You’ll need help on the ice.”
“No way,” said Ronon.
Sheppard nodded. “No dice, I’m afraid. You can’t help us out there.”
Miruva embraced Teyla. There were tears in her eyes, and Teyla felt her own throat tighten. “We will remember you always,” Miruva said. “The Ancestors will be with you.”
Ronon cast Sheppard a dark look. “They’d better be.”
Chapter Eighteen
McKay was getting angry. Mostly because he was scared. And the fact that he was scared was making him angrier.
The constant cracks and moans from the ice beneath the Jumper tore his nerves to shreds. The scanner told him the Stargate was still there, but any moment he expected to see the blip disappear. And that would be the end of it.
He’d looked over the flight controls a hundred times. Should he try and take off? Sheppard had shown him how to fly the thing once, but in this weather? And even if he’d been confident about flying the Jumper, he wasn’t sure there was enough juice in the tank for more than one short burst of atmospheric flight. If he tried to take off and seek higher ground, he might ruin their chances of escaping the planet entirely. And with the blizzard still howling around the Jumper with terrifying force, leaving the vessel was no longer an option. He’d never make it back to the empty settlement alone.
The choices were looking pretty bad.
He looked over the Jumper’s instrumentation one last time. The power configuration was set for optimal delivery at the right times, and the improvised Zelenka module (he’d have to think of a better name for that) was sending out a steady stream of helpful diagnostic readings to the central computer. Everything was ready to go. All, that was, except for the crew.
McKay flicked open the dividing doors between the rear bay and the cockpit, and took a look at the external viewfinders. Nothing. The screens were white with occasional flecks of gray. The snow was tearing around the ship at frightening speeds and even inside the heavily shielded frame, the sheer noise of the maelstrom was terrifying.
He sat down in the co-pilot’s chair and began to bite his nails. It had been hours since he’d heard from Sheppard and the others. And he couldn’t shake the image of them lost, in the heart of the storm, their meager furs flapping around their freezing bodies, their limbs ravaged by frostbite. Despite all they had endured since arriving on Khost, this maelstrom was something else. The planet had begun the process of inexorably scrubbing all life from its frozen surface.
Unable to settle, McKay got up from the chair and started pacing backwards and forwards. He had to make a decision, do something. If he’d been Sheppard, he might have been able to think of a cunning intervention to resolve things. McKay was proud enough of his brain, but even he would admit that it was better at some things than others. Fixing Ancient technology against hopeless odds with terrible equipment was something he could do; making split-second choices in the absence of any helpful information at all was something he couldn’t.