"And it'll only be worse with the jumpers full of passengers." Over the radio, Dr. Weir's voice was resigned.
"We have to recall them," announced Colonel Caldwell. "Our resources are already divided between the city evacuation and the Daedalus repairs, and if they fly into that mess, we're only going to lose people"
In the pause that followed, Teyla heard her hopes slip away. She was not surprised when Dr. Weir said softly, "I'm sorry, Teyla. Jumpers, return to base."
The latest blast of wind shear rocked them violently, and Teyla barely managed to regain her seat. She heard static in her earpiece, but the view outside the windshield drew her focus. Seeing a rainblurred area of green and brown beyond the gray, she made one final attempt. "Dr. Weir, Jumper Three has the mainland in sight. We request permission to continue."
She looked over at Corletti, prepared to apologize for speaking for the both of them. But the Marine made no objection, concentrating on performing a stable descent.
The response from Atlantis was garbled. Their ship was tossed hard, its nose pitching up to near vertical before slamming back down. "Crap, I'm losing it!" Corletti's hands flew over the controls, but the planet's surface suddenly loomed ever larger in front of them. "Oh, God… Hang on. We're going in!"
Chapter Eight
"The jumpers should have arrived by now," Hailing yelled above the noise. They had erected tenting across a narrow gorge, little more than a cutting in the side of the cliff, and so were protected from the worst of the wind and the rain. But outside-Hailing did not need Dr. Weir to confirm that this storm was not natural.
Droplets of water falling from his nose and chin, the engineer, Kwesi, leaned in close to speak into his ear. "If Dr. Weir said they were on their way, they will get here."
"I do not doubt Dr. Weir's word, or the pilots' intent" Halling moved to the entrance and, ignoring the wind and rain that pounded his face, looked up at the sky before replying. "But it has been too long. Perhaps they were forced to turn back. I should have left sooner to bring the others down from the mountains."
When they had first come to the mainland, his people's priority had been to learn what this world had to offer by way of new food crops and animals, medicinal plants, and spices that they could use both for themselves and for trading. Although Teyla's presence had been sorely missed, their explorations had been filled with the excitement of discovery. After establishing a base, they had then set up outlying hunting camps, including one up in the mountains, on the shore of a lake. There, the waters contained plentiful fish, reeds suitable for making rope grew along the banks, and the shores were thick with an excellent clay for making pots, something in which Jinto had expressed interest. For that reason, and believing that it was safe, Halling had encouraged his son to spend time up in the mountain camp.
"Jinto will be all right," Kwesi assured him, motioning for him to come back under cover. "They have sturdy shelter and their camp is on high ground, well above the lake's shoreline."
Reluctant to turn away from the mountains and his son, Hailing replied, "Perhaps, but they do not know the nature of this storm. If the jumpers do come, we have a better chance if we are together." He pushed rain-soaked hair from his face and shook the water from his jacket. "When we came to Atlantis, many of my people feared that the Ancestors did not wish us to trespass on their sacred home. While we are very grateful to you for helping us, perhaps this is a further warning that we should have settled elsewhere."
"I do not believe that to be true. On Earth, my own people have suffered much tragedy through the generations, but through it all, their spirit has remained strong." Kwesi squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Almost as strong as the Athosians. We will get through this together, but you must have faith""
"It is not my faith that concerns me. Those in the other camps and out hunting may suspect that this storm is not normal, but they cannot know that it will worsen, nor that they must make their way here. Can you promise me that, should the jumpers arrive, the pilots will go up into that and bring back my son?" He pointed to the maelstrom of lightning and clouds that swirled like an enraged beast around the mountaintops.
Any reply Kwesi might have given him was drowned out by a tremendous noise that momentarily cut through the howling wind and rain. The ground beneath their feet trembled, prompting Halling to step further outside and seek the origin of the sound. It was not an earthquake; of that he was certain, for he had been on many worlds where such things were common.
Ignoring the rain, others now joined him. Was it the river, perhaps? Slogging across the churned-up mud beneath his feet, Hailing moved out even further, away from the limited protection of the cliff and into the full fury of the wind and rain, hoping to see if the expected floodwaters had reached the main campsite. It was not something that he relished, on the contrary, but he needed affirmation.
Kwesi, too, had thought to check on the river. Walking just ahead of Halling, the engineer stopped and peered down at his feet, then abruptly turned to face him. In the harsh storm light, the man's dark skin was pallid, and his eyes grew wide with terror. "Run!" Kwesi took an urgent step towards Halling, grabbed his arms and shook them for emphasis. "Go as fast as your feet will carry you. Take nothing! Flee to the other side of river!"
"What?" Had they not come here to escape the rising waters? But Kwesi had already rushed back under the shelter, calling for everyone who was still there to leave. Following him, Halling yelled, "Why?"
Inside, Kwesi gathered together the items he'd used to communicate with Dr. Weir, shouting for people to hurry. Halling did not understand. They were already on high ground, well above the level of even the worst floods. He knew this because he had seen the marks on the riverbanks, and had always respected such signs. "Why?" he repeated. "What's wrong?"
Around them, people were staring at each other in confusion, reluctant to leave what little shelter the cutting provided. It was dangerous outside, not simply because of the river, but because wind gusts had already knocked over trees, and branches were flying everywhere.
"The clay!" Kwesi snatched up his bag, grabbed a fistful of Halling's jacket, and pulled him across to the wall of the gorge. While a few bushes and weedy plants clung tenaciously to the almost vertical face, patches of damp earth were visible in places. Some water dribbled down, but for the most part, it was far drier than outside. Using his fingers, Kwesi scooped a handful of the clay into his palm. "Too much water!" he shouted above the noise of the storm.
Though Halling still had yet to see why that was a problem, Kwesi's distress was enough to hold his attention and that of the others who had now gathered around them. The engineer manipulated the clay between his fingers, pounding and squeezing it. Without warning, it liquefied and flowed from his hands.
Although he did not understand how this could be, Halling instantly understood the implications. Rushing outside, he looked up at the huge mountain looming over them and was struck by a terrible sense of dread. He grabbed up the nearest child, thrust her into her father's arms, and yelled, "Everyone must go down and cross the river-now!"
Teyla staggered to her feet, trying to find order inside the confusion of the puddle jumper. The machine had rolled and, as far as she could ascertain in the dark, flipped over upon landing. It now rested at an unidentifiable angle to…what? The bottom of the ocean? It had been dusk when they had gone in, and the ship was still shifting periodically, as if caught in a wayward current. Perhaps they were still sinking.