He was staring at the computer screen as he spoke, focused on something undefined. John didn't know Radek Zelenka all that well, didn't know anything about his background or life experiences, but he recognized and respected the determination he saw in the other man's features.
Rubbing distractedly at his right ear, which felt like it had been scoured from the inside and was starting to ache, John listened as the scientist continued. "There remains a possibility that I will be able to locate Atlas's exogenesis machine, if the Polrussons can retrieve the data disc that Rodney brought back."
John's stomach lurched at the idea that they might find the blasted thing clutched in his friend's dead hand. He forcibly pushed that thought aside. "So, do you want to work here or back on Atlantis?"
"Here. I need to get more of these systems running." Radek eyed him with an unreadable expression. "If you are willing to stay, your gene will be most useful."
John wondered if he was being offered a coping tactic and decided he didn't care one way or the other. "Sure. I'll let Vene and Shira know you and I are going to hang out here for a while."
Passing the HAZMAT-suited personnel moving swiftly toward the 'gate room, Elizabeth headed for the infirmary, vainly trying to imbue order on all the information thrown at her in the space of moments. They'd been able to raise the shield by remote access to the computer system, and the wormhole had just recently disengaged after the requisite thirty-eight minutes. The control room, her office, and the surrounding areas were off-limits while a hastily assembled emergency crew removed the worst of the corrosive sand.
Simpson's team had completed its survey of the subsystems Rodney had deemed necessary to make Atlantis spaceworthy, and the news wasn't good. Many of the systems appeared to have problems that were beyond the team's understanding, let alone their capacity to repair. Simpson had told her honestly that it simply couldn't be done without Rodney's input.
And even though she had no evidence, Elizabeth knew that holding out any hope of Rodney's survival would be nothing more than denial. Two of her control room techs were now in critical condition after being struck by far less sand than anyone on Polrusso would have gotten. Most likely, Rodney had been dead before they'd even enabled the 'gate shield.
A sudden thought chilled her: it was possible that he'd fallen victim to the 'gate shield itself.
The professionalism of Carson's staff kept the infirmary from falling into chaos. A number of people had received injuries and bums of varying degrees. Elizabeth affixed a reassuring smile to her face and strode through the main bay, toward the bed of the 'gate operator. The young man opened his eyes at her approach.
"Sean, how are you feeling?" she asked, sliding into a chair by his bed.
"Okay, ma'am. I didn't get hit too badly." His hoarse voice and the heavy bandages enveloping his hands and forearms belied that statement.
"That's good to hear. Can you tell me any more about what happened?"
"I wish I knew. We didn't receive an IDC when the 'gate activated, but then Colonel Sheppard came on the radio and said that Dr. McKay was on his way. I tried to lower the shield, but it wouldn't respond. I don't know if it detected the sand or what, but the Colonel was yelling that Dr. McKay was already in transit and I had to get the shield down." Sean lifted a troubled gaze to her. "I thought it was the right thing to do, ma'am, but then Samir got hit right in the face… Do you know if he's all right?"
"The doctors are working on him now. He's in good hands." She knew that Samir would be lucky if he only lost his eyesight. Since the Ancients had told the Polrussons that the sand was a normal component of terraforming, it stood to reason that the 'gate shield would be programmed to guard against it. Not that any of them could have known. "It was the right thing to do," she assured Sean, leaning forward and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I would have given the same order if I'd been in the control room. I just-I need to know something." It was an awful question, but there was no way around it. "Before you were able to lower the shield, did you hear anything large strike it?"
His eyes widened. "No."
"You're certain?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'd know if anything… anyone hit the shield. You can run a diagnostic to make sure."
While Elizabeth wanted to do just that, everyone qualified to run the program was either stuck on Polrusso, on the returning Daedalus, in the infirmary, or dead. "Thank you, Sean. Get some rest."
She couldn't bear to stay there any longer, looking at all the people who'd been hurt in their failed attempt to bring a colleague home. Escaping into the corridor, she was waylaid by the engineer in charge of monitoring Ea's exogenesis machine.
"I was hoping I'd find you here, Dr. Weir." The man's grim expression elevated her tension even more. "The device is gaining speed. It's digging through the ground at nearly triple its previous rate, and it's still getting faster. We're theorizing that it recently hit softer rock."
Just what we needed. "How long?"
"Impossible to tell. It could slow down again if it encounters a harder layer. If it continues at its current pace, days at most before it reaches the mantle." He sighed. "But if it continues to gain speed, or stops drilling because it's tapped into sufficient heat to power the next stage of operations, we'll need to consider enhancing the city shield as soon as the Daedalus returns. The longer we wait, the more we risk an uncontrolled nanite infestation on Atlantis."
She hadn't thought it would be possible, but Elizabeth felt yet another spike of anxiety. "If we increase the power to the shield too soon, we'll drain our reserves before the Daedalus can complete repairs."
"That's true. But the exogenesis machine is already beginning to separate." The engineer withdrew a printout from a folder in his hand and showed her the progression over time: first a single bright area of the Ancient composite material, then two, then four. "For all we know, these could be the component parts of the nanite manufacturing process. I plan to ask Dr. Beckett about it as soon as he arrives-he might know more."
"Please do that. And keep me informed." Elizabeth's com signaled, and she bit back a multilingual slew of curses. "Go ahead."
"Dr. Weir, we've just finished the diagnostic on the main dialing computer," another engineer reported-God, she was starting to lose track of who was doing what. "We can't dial out at all, even by remote access."
She ran her fingers across her temples and leaned against the wall. "Can you fix it?"
"We'll make it happen, ma'am, but…"
"But what?"
"But it would go a lot faster if Dr. McKay or Dr. Zelenka were here."
Ronon hefted a large sack onto the nearby cart and gave the animal hitched to it a wary look. The creature snuffled and ducked its head. "He will not provoke you," Shira promised, lifting another sack.
"He keeps looking at my hair like he wants to chew it."
The Polrusson woman laughed. "It probably reminds him of his mate. She had a long mane."
That didn't reassure him in the slightest. Ronon eased out of the animal's reach and continued to load the cart with goods. The storm still raged outside, and he'd grown increasingly frustrated with doing nothing in the Ancient lab, so when Shira had timidly requested his help in packing her cart with food and water for the new village, he'd agreed without a second thought.
While they worked, her children chased each other around the cart's wheels and through the adults' legs. In the market square, a dozen or so other carts were also being loaded with possessions. From what he had seen on the walk there, the entire village was gearing up for the exodus to its long-awaited future home.