"I think I'm uniquely qualified to self-diagnose," Carson replied with a half-smile. When it failed to sway her, he continued in a more solemn vein. "Ea's memories aren't fading the way I might have expected. Perhaps it's because she was an Ancient that they're so clear, but in any case, I think I may yet have some knowledge that could be important once we get to Polrusso." He glanced at Rodney, who had turned back to the computer.
A sudden thought struck Elizabeth. "Are you sure we can trust whatever information Ea left behind?"
"Just before she died, Ea made a conscious choice to heal me," Carson said. "I don't think she was a bad person, simply traumatized beyond her limits. I think she had reservations about what she'd done, or at least a part of her did. It's hard to say exactly what she most regretted, her actions on Atlantis or Polrusso… or perhaps it was something else entirely. I can't tell, and I…I really need to know." He started to say more, but paused, uncertain.
Aware that he hadn't answered her question, Elizabeth studied Carson's determined stance with concern. The doctor loathed going through the Stargate, and she felt certain his desire to do so now was driven by a misplaced sense of responsibility for Ea's actions. From the way he was talking, it also seemed that Ea's possession had impacted him somewhat differently than Phoebus's possession had her. While she'd known what Phoebus had planned and had been helpless to stop it, she hadn't had access to the pilot's memories. Recalling another SGC file, Elizabeth wondered if the effect on Carson might be more similar to Colonel Carter's encounter with the Tok'ra, Jolinar.
Before she could respond, however, Rodney's newfound exuberance figuratively trampled her. "Things are looking up," he announced, tapping his fingers against the computer screen. "The Ancient database indicates that ten thousand years ago, Polmsso was in the early stages of a sanctioned terraforming, with all the associated equipment that implies. Presumably the process is now complete. Even if we can't locate Atlas's experimental exogenesis machine right away, a collection of three or four ZPMs with even a small percentage of power opens up our options considerably."
"How's that?" John entered the control room, Ronon not far behind. Like Rodney and Carson, they were mission-ready.
"Well, for one thing, it would buy us more shield time, which would be best used to search whatever records exist on Polrusso for the experimental machine or at least a blueprint of the thing"
"More time might help Atlantis, but not Teyla's people," Ronon pointed out.
"Right, so obviously it's not our first choice, but can everyone please cut me a little slack here? Considering what we have to work with, the idea that any additional ZPM power might be available is something we all ought to be turning cartwheels over."
Celebration was clearly not on Carson's mind, for he was frowning, seemingly lost in thought. "Were you going to say something else earlier, Carson?" Elizabeth pressed.
Troubled, the doctor shook his head. "I can't grasp the details, but something about the terraforming of Polrusso bothered Ea. I think it may have been associated with her feelings of guilt."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "After ten millennia, I hardly think we need to worry about whatever neighbors the Ancients may have ticked off."
"That's pretty much what we said before the super-Wraith took out Gall and Abrams," John reminded him quietly.
Rodney's haughty expression faltered.
"So we go prepared," Ronon said in his usual forthright fashion.
As prepared as possible, Elizabeth corrected mentally. There wasn't time for a proper survey of the planet or its possible inhabitants. As always, they'd simply have to do the best they could. "Good luck," she told the team. "Stay safe"
Chapter Six
"This is what ten thousand years of terraforming buys you, huh?" Sheppard stepped out of the jumper. "A dark and stormy planet."
"It's not dark," said Ronon, squinting against the bright sunlight. He took a few steps away from the jumper and looked around.
"And I doubt there's been a storm here, ever." McKay was smearing some sort of creamy white gunk across his neck and ears.
"Hey, I'm the guy who has to submit the reports," retorted the Colonel. "Assuming I even get the chance to write this up, at least let me make it a little less boring than `We came, and we saw nothing but sand and sky. "'
For the first time since they'd boarded the jumper back on Atlantis, Dr. Beckett spoke up from the rear. "I'm told that SG- l's reports are noted for their brevity." He accepted the tube of gunk from McKay and began rubbing it across his face.
"I don't get it," Sheppard admitted, eyeing the barren landscape. "This doesn't look like the kind of place you'd build by design."
"Terraforming must have failed," Ronon ventured. An aerial reconnaissance pass could have told them more, but McKay had wanted to land the moment they'd exited the Stargate, babbling something about `it' being right here.
"Brilliant deduction, Watson," muttered the scientist, nose now buried in his handheld scanner.
Ronon wondered what kind of insult `Watson' was supposed to be. If McKay had planned to continue his derogatory remarks, he was interrupted by a pointed query from Sheppard. "Rodney? We're on something of a time limit here."
"What did you expect? A ZPM to just pop up from the ground and say, `Take me to your leader?' I'm still determining its exact location."
Sheppard used the jumper's remote to close the hatch and activate the cloak. The ship vanished from view but left an obvious indentation in the soft sand. "If a ZPM is still giving off power readings, why did the terraforming fail?"
"Could have been any number of factors" McKay took a few steps toward the nearest dune. "As much as we make them out to be Holy Grails, ZPMs are simply power sources, nothing more. Whatever method the Ancients used to carry out their landscaping projects, it undoubtedly involved some form of computer, which itself may have malfunctioned or even been tampered with by Atlas and Ea in preparation for experimenting with their exogenesis machine"
Three gazes slid toward Beckett, who looked doubtful. "I don't know," he confessed. "It might explain Ea's deep reservations. But I can't be sure "
McKay ran his scanner across the face of the dune. "There's definitely some sort of Ancient structure beneath this." When he started up the sandy slope, Sheppard moved to take the lead. By unspoken agreement, Ronon waited until Beckett followed the others and then brought up the rear.
"The ZPM is about five kilometers away." McKay managed to operate his equipment while negotiating the shifting sands, no small feat for a man who often got distracted enough to walk into tables.
"In which direction?" pressed the Colonel.
Sucking in a lungful of air and squinting against the sun, McKay declared, "Straight down."
"Say what?" Sheppard turned to stare at the scientist.
"Just…hang on." His breathing became more labored as they continued to climb.
"Maybe it didn't fail," Ronon suggested. "Maybe it was never switched on."
"It was." Beckett paused to pull his cap down, shading his eyes from the worst of the glare.
Ronon glanced ahead, wary. He knew the doctor was fully himself again, but the way the man's focus drifted each time he remembered something from Ea was just. .not right.
"If you'd like some evidence to go along with that sixth sense," McKay panted, "look no further." He waved his scanner back in the direction they had come from. "Underneath that dune sea is a reservoir with enough water to fill"-he reached the top of the sand ridge and his eyes widened-"that."