She had to find out who was on that newly arrived ship. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She carefully stretched out toward that tenuous mental connection, toward the alien ship in orbit.
It came almost immediately.
Hunger They had traveled far from the hive, chasing the elusive energy traces that might indicate Lantian technology, and there had been little to feed on along their route. There were tantalizing hints from other hives that a new feeding ground existed, rich beyond measure, that Lantian technology might lead to it.
Trishen retreated, startled. She didn't think they were aware of her; there was something primitive about most of the minds in the matrix, and she could tell there was no female onboard. That can't be a good sign. She pushed harder, slipping past the higher levels of awareness, choosing an individual mind at random.
She saw with his eyes.
He was walking through the ship. It was primitive too, at least this section of it. She caught sight of another crew member, and was baffled by the heavy mask of what looked like bone concealing his-its? — face. Another passed by, but this one looked like an Eidolon male. That doesn't make sense. The humans had acted as if they had never seen an Eidolon before. Trishen opened her senses further, trying to understand. Then she gagged, her throat nearly closing at the stench of death; the sweetness of rotting flesh was thick in the air. There's been an accident, she thought, bewildered, a hull breach. But she could see the crew, Eidolon and the masked beings, passing in the corridor as if nothing was wrong. And the stink; had they just left the bodies where they lay? And there was web everywhere, thick bundles of it. What in the name of the Creators are they doing? she wondered incredulously.
Then the being she was riding stopped in front of a small chamber, in front of a mass of web, and she saw a body trapped in it. A human female, naked except for a few rags, slumped over with only the web holding her upright. Dead, surely she was dead. He reached toward her, his hand on her chest, and Trishen's thoughts dissolved in horror. No. It can't be. This can 't be.
The human jerked and screamed.
Trishen fled, snatching her awareness away. Back in her own body she shoved away from the console, staggered blindly to the wall. Bile rose in her throat as her body tried to revolt. Wraith. Not Eidolon. Wraith. The species that had destroyed the Creators.
This… explained a great deal.
Ignoring the chiming of the comm unit, she leaned on the wall, breathing in the clean air of her own ship. Squeezing her eyes shut didn't help; the human female's horrific death was burned into her brain. Now you know why the humans ran from you, she told herself.
Now she understood the hate, too.
They found the roof access on the uppermost level, a lift platform that took them up into a circular structure with one section open to the outside. The elevator doors opened and John stepped out cautiously, Teyla beside him, warily surveying the scene. The flat roof stretched away, an empty expanse of dust-streaked blue stone, under a sky that was starting to dim as the moon's orbit took it into eclipse again. John said, "This the right place?"
"No, the elevator took us to another dimension." Rodney was already checking his various screens.
John exchanged a startled look with Teyla, then he rolled his eyes in annoyance and they both glared at Rodney. "McKay."
"What?" Rodney demanded, not looking up.
Brows lowered and sounding distinctly testy, Teyla began, "Considering where we are-"
John finished in a flat voice, "That wasn't funny."
On the headset, John heard Zelenka confide in an undertone to either Kusanagi or Ronon, "Rodney thinks he is hilarious."
"I can hear you, Zelenka, and all right, fine, yes, this is the right part of the roof." Rodney checked his tablet again. "The array is straight ahead, on the inside edge."
John waited while Rodney did a last check through of all his equipment. Mirror: probably not about to discharge and kill them. Life signs: currently clear except for the three of them. Wraith darts: none close enough to detect. Scout ship: at the far end of its polar orbit, out of range for at least the next half hour. Then John stepped out into the open, trying to ignore the sensation of being fully exposed to the view of every Wraith in the entire system.
As they started across the open expanse of the roof, Radek reported that they had reached the freight entrance and that Miko was maneuvering the cloaked jumper down the corridor. A moment later John heard a yelp and a faint metallic crunch. Miko snapped, "Shimatta!"
John winced in genuine pain. It was his favorite jumper. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Radek replied hurriedly. "It's a small scratch, I'll fix it when we get home."
Rodney snorted in exasperation. "It's `The Bobbsey Twins Try to Park a Puddlejumper.
"Just be careful," John told Radek.
As they neared the edge of the roof, John saw a wide square trench, close to thirty feet across and about five feet deep, apparently running the full circumference of the building, just as Rodney had predicted. The far side curved up into a blue-green metallic housing that he hoped was for the pulse generator, forming a square block that extended out over the edge of the installation like a porch roof. Okay, this is what I saw from the window bubble in that monitoring room. There were a scatter of low stone platforms of different heights along the trench, probably bases for equipment that had been long removed.
John jumped down into the trench and Rodney and Teyla used the little set of steps. After a little searching, they found the nearly invisible seams of a large square access port. Rodney set his tablet down and unslung his pack, taking out his toolkit. He tapped his radio. "Radek, we've found it. Pull up the database on Ancient conductivity and energy control-"
"I have it, Rodney," Radek replied. "And we have found a nice bay to sit in."
Studying the sky uneasily, John asked, "How long is this going to take?"
Still holding the toolkit, Rodney rolled his eyes. "A long long time, if someone interrupts me every ten seconds to ask-"
Then Teyla shouted, "Colonel!"
John turned, saw the white flash. Wraith were beaming down on the inside edge of the trench, between them and the lift platform. He yelled, "Wraith!"
He opened fire with Teyla as the Wraith materialized. A high-flying dart must have picked them up on its sensors, beamed down this search group. There were at least seven of them, males and drones, and that was too many. One drone dropped, then another. The others were lifting stunners. In his peripheral vision, John saw Rodney turn, aim his pistol at his tablet where it sat on the pavement, squeeze off two shots. Good, John thought, right before the stun blast hit him in the chest.
John saw the ground rushing toward him, and slammed into it.
Dazed, Rodney opened his eyes when something tugged at his SCBA. No, no, what the hell? I need that. He fumbled for the chest strap with numb fingers, trying to hold on to it. The next tug was violent, ripping the mask away, taking the tank and his tac vest with it. It yanked him around so that he was sprawled on his side; Rodney choked on a breath, the thin air laden with dust, and stared upward.
There was a Wraith drone standing over him, faceless in the bone mask it wore. He choked on an outcry, his throat closing. He tried to scramble away but his muscles were limp, his body like an unstrung puppet.
The drone stepped back and Rodney saw Sheppard lying on his side a few feet away. His jacket, vest, and SCBA had been pulled off and tossed aside. Teyla lay in a crumpled heap not far beyond Sheppard, another drone just now dragging off her vest and breathing unit, ignor ing her startled outcry and her weak attempt to punch it. Rodney gasped, "No, we need those," the words came out in a weak wheeze and Rodney felt the first pressure on his lungs. The Wraith had taken their weapons, the headsets. And their air.