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“I am Jitrine,” she said. “I am a doctor. I understand that you have been injured in an accident?”

“My friend has been badly hurt,” Teyla said, stepping aside so that she could come closer. “He has hit his head. It bled freely, and now he is also dizzy and sick.”

“Humm,” Jitrine said, and slid in to sit beside John, taking his wrist in her hand with the practiced motion of physicians anywhere. She frowned over it for a moment, then cupped her hand over his eyes. “Look at me,” she said sharply.

John blinked.

“You see?” Jitrine said to Teyla. “How his pupils do not respond to the light the same on each side? The left side is over dilated. That’s common with head injuries.”

“I see,” Teyla said, bending closer. The left pupil did not shrink when the light hit it as the right did.

“Now let me see the bandage,” Jitrine said.

“It has stuck,” Teyla said. “I thought water to soak it free?”

“Go and get some,” Jitrine said to one of the soldiers. When he stood stupidly she snapped, “Water. In a bowl. What do you think I will do while you are gone?”

She put her fingers to John’s neck, checking the pulse there, then lifted the corners of the dressing again. “Who did this, young woman? You?”

“Yes,” Teyla said, “And my name is Teyla. This is Colonel Sheppard, and we are travelers who have come here by accident. He was hurt when our ship crashed.”

“I’m still here you know,” John said. “You can talk to me.”

“We know,” Jitrine said tartly. “And you’re not going anywhere else. Not for quite a while. You will lie where you are while I tend you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John said, the ghost of his old smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Teyla thought he must find Jitrine’s bedside manner as comforting as she did.

“Water,” the soldier said, bringing back a bowl. He and the other soldier were moving things around behind them, and one of them edged the table closer.

“Now to soak this off,” Jitrine said, dipping a clean cloth in the water. “And see if I can keep it from bleeding again. You will probably need stitches. I hate to mess up your pretty face, but there it is. Your wife here won’t mind too much, if you keep your wits instead.”

“I am not his wife,” Teyla said.

A third soldier came to the door. “Is all well?”

Jitrine did not look around. “Tell Tolas this will take some time. And not to interrupt me every few minutes.”

“Yes, doctor,” the soldier said. There was again the sound of shuffling about, and he went out and shut the door.

“There!” Jitrine carefully lifted the soggy dressing off. “Beautiful.”

Teyla tried not to cringe. The cut was long and deep, four inches from just above his eyebrow to somewhere in his hair, slowly seeping blood.

“Bad?” John asked. Of course he could see her face.

“I’ve seen a lot worse,” Jitrine said. “But it doesn’t matter so much what the outside of your head looks like. What matters is if your brain is swelling inside. I certainly hope not.”

“You know about brain swelling?” Teyla asked. She had not seen anything to lead her to believe there was much technology on this world, certainly not the CAT scans that Dr. Beckett insisted on every time she got hit in the head.

“I am a doctor,” Jitrine said tartly. “Not a village midwife. I was trained in the College of the Healers in Pelagia, where we learn the causes of decease from the corpses of prisoners. I have practiced as a physician for twenty years. I have seen a man die from brain swelling, and if it is necessary I will open his skull to relieve the pressure.”

“Um, no…” John began.

“I hope that will not be necessary?” Teyla said quickly.

“I hope not as well,” Jitrine said. “I lose one out of four that way. I’d rather give you better odds.”

“Um, no!” John said quickly, starting to push up on his elbows.

“Lie down.” Jitrine pushed on his chest. “Don’t be stupid. I need to sew you up.”

John’s eyes were wide. “Just sewing. Not drilling my skull or something.”

“Just sewing,” Jitrine said with a tight smile. “You must be a soldier. Soldiers are the worst patients. Now lie still and let me work.” She sutured the wound with quick stitches, and if her work was not entirely sanitary, Teyla could not fault its expertise. Well, she thought, she had antibiotic cream in the medical kit, and probably some in her pocket case as well. She would put that on when Jitrine was finished.

“That’s done it,” Jitrine said, tying the last stitch off neatly and putting a pad of soft clean cloth to it. “I’ll tie the bandage on, and then you should rest.” She looked at Teyla. “If he seems unresponsive or stops making sense, I want you to send the soldiers for me at once, do you understand? If he seems disoriented at all. There is no time to lose in that event.”

Teyla opened her mouth and shut it again, and Jitrine reached over to pat her arm. “It is likely he will be fine, but we must keep close watch. It has been several hours already, and he seems himself, does he not?”

“Yes,” Teyla said. “He is making sense, and he does not seem different than he usually does.”

Jitrine nodded. “Then chances are it is a mild injury. But you must call me if anything changes. Right away.”

“I will,” Teyla promised.

Jitrine got to her feet, taking her bag with her. One of the two spearmen opened the door. “I will check on you later,” she said, and went out, followed by the soldiers. The door closed behind her. Teyla jumped up too slowly. Outside she heard the sound of a stout bar being lowered across it.

John started up from the pillow. “Not good,” he said.

“Perhaps they are not entirely certain of us,” Teyla said. “But they are not hostile, and she has given you good care. You should lie down. I am sure Jitrine will be back later.”

Her voice was soothing, but her eyes fell on the bare floor beside the door. Their packs and their P90s were gone.

Chapter Three

“It’s no use,” Radek Zelenka said, laying the radio aside. “We are too far from the Stargate to reach Rodney without the longer range transmitter in the jumper.”

Ronon crouched in the shadow of one of the Ancient citadel’s broken walls, scanning the seas and skies with binoculars. “Can you raise the jumper?”

“I have been trying,” Radek said. “They are not answering either. This is why I do not like to go offworld. This is why I avoid it if I can. One moment you are looking at a beautiful view, and the next moment you are in deep trouble.”

Ronon snorted. “That’s life.”

“Yes, well, it may be your life. I try not to have it be my life,” Radek said. He squinted out over the blue sea. The sun was definitely well past its zenith. He was not certain how long the days on this world were, but it was certainly late afternoon. It could not be so many hours to sunset. “They should have been back for us by now.”

“Maybe.” Ronon Dex was a man of few words. “Maybe not.”

“If they found something interesting, or if the Wraith cruiser found them?”

“Either way.” Ronon looked around, lowering the binoculars. “Sheppard’s a good pilot. But that thing’s got him outgunned. He may have decided to lay low for a while and slip back to get us after dark.”

“That could be,” Radek said. It was a comforting scenario, at least. Though with the cloak on the jumper surely it would not be necessary to wait until dark. The cloak should disguise the jumper far more effectively than mere darkness. He sat down against the wall and took a drink from his metal water bottle. “In which case we wait?”