What the hell might as well live up to my billing.
Zinging his football into the open bag, John tapped his earpiece. "Ronon, Sheppard."
Since the response was prompt, Caldwell obviously hadn't confiscated Ronon's com. Lucky break. "Here. You okay?"
"More or less. Listen, Beckett sprung me loose, and if I'm already twitchy, I figure you must be halfway to losing it. Want me to come over? We can play cards."
"I won most of your candy stash last time "
Which was true. Ronon's impassable poker face, combined with a rather… aggressive strategy, tended to work only when he got good cards. Unfortunately for everyone else, so far he'd been getting a lot of good cards.
"My pride can handle it."
"If you say so"
Ronon wasn't going to give the soldiers outside his door the satisfaction of getting any reaction at all from him. Although he chafed at being treated like a criminal, he could understand the others' concerns. It was the way Caldwell had shut Sheppard down that left him amazed. What manner of military gave its leaders authority to command but then tied their hands`?
The door chime sounded, and he went to open it. In the corridor, Sheppard stood between the two guards, none of them looking at each other. "Hey. Up for some pariah poker?"
Stepping aside, Ronon let him in. His team leader was still wearing his jacket and sidearm, and made no move to sit at the table. When the door closed, Sheppard pushed a hand through his hair, seemingly weighing a choice. "Look," he said finally, "this may or may not come as a surprise, but I didn't really come here to play cards"
He'd thought that might be a surprise? Clamping down on a snort, Ronon gave him a look of mild disdain and produced two rappelling harnesses from under his bed.
Blinking, Sheppard just looked at him for a minute. "Okay. I'm really that predictable?"
"Pretty much." Reaching back under his bed, Ronon began to unwind a length of rope. He hadn't measured it, but seven years without such conveniences gave a person lots of practice at estimation. "Your men always leave stuff lying around."
"Tell me about it. How'd you smuggle that stuff out of the jumper bay?"
"Jacket's big."
"Man, I need a jacket like that," Sheppard commented with a hint of envy.
"Figured you wouldn't want to damage the guards, so that left the window as the only other way out," Ronon explained as the Colonel put on and cinched up his harness. "There's a balcony about five stories down from here. How's your balance?"
"Good enough. Just be quick on the belay if I happen to zone out."
"Okay. Haven't decided how to break the glass without being heard yet."
"No sweat" With a tap on the frame, the window slid open. "You'd be surprised how many things around here respond to the magic gene." Sheppard gave him a sidelong glance as they secured the rope. "You don't have to go with me, you know."
He didn't get it, did he? McKay might be a little hard to get along with, but he was a teammate to both of them. Why should Ronon see the situation any differently than Sheppard did? Besides, his own military wasn't around anymore to discipline him, and this one didn't exactly have the clout.
Answering with another wordless look-some of the Marines had started naming Ronon's expressions, and this one had been oddly labeled `duh'-he stepped toward the window. "You going first or second?"
"Right." The flicker of gratitude obligingly vanished from Sheppard's expression, and he gestured. "After you."
This time when he woke, Rodney immediately felt much more alert. Some sensation had returned to his hands, and he was able to sit up without assistance. He could even hear the faint creak of the bed as he shifted. If that was any indication of how his eyes were progressing, he should indeed have the bandages off in a couple of days.
He wondered how much time had passed since he'd been brought to this place, but Turpi was there, sitting beside him on the bed and speaking before he could ask.
"It is good to see you looking so well," she told him, delight in her voice. "And you have woken just in time. I have a surprise for you."
He started to sense another person in the room with them. That notion was soon substantiated when a deep male voice spoke. "How are you feeling?"
The black rider, he was immediately certain. Abruptly, Rodney was struck by a realization. The mental images he had of his rescue couldn't possibly be real memories. He couldn't have seen the rider, because his eyes had been eaten away.
So what had really happened? Who had taken him?
He hoped his growing alarm didn't show-but it was a futile wish, since these people could read minds. In fact, had any conversation he'd had to date involved actual speech? "How did I get here?" he demanded unsteadily, listening for the words in his ears, trying to ascertain if he was indeed deaf as well as blind.
"I beamed you aboard my ship," Turpi's father answered.
That didn't clear anything up. Just the opposite, in fact. "Your ship?"
"Your kind call them Darts."
On the last word, Rodney's stomach did a back flip that even Turpi's touch could not soothe away. If he'd been able to see, panic would have blinded him when her father added, "My name is Nabu."
Chapter Sixteen
In the jumper bay, Teyla offered a reassuring smile to the young.man who was being wheeled away on a gurney. Dr. Beckett had assessed the Athosian refugees' injuries, and members of his staff had been assigned to tend to each one.
The doctor looked exhausted but straightened up as soon as she approached. "And how about you, lass? Do you hurt anywhere?" His eyes traveled to the gash on her forehead, long since washed clean by the rain.
She shook her head. "Do not trouble yourself. I am only bruised. Has the evacuation begun?"
With a sigh, Beckett stretched obviously stiff muscles and then took a swab from his kit to clean her head wound. "Just a few minutes ago," he said, dabbing gently. "We're sending people to the Alpha site with as much equipment as we can salvage."
"I should speak with Dr. Weir about the role of my people in this." The cut stung briefly.
"Aye, I expect so. She's down in her office, I believe." He applied a small bandage and added, "That should do it. It's quite a clean injury"
On the short walk, Teyla considered the future. Her people would adapt to a new home; they had done so before. She feared, though, that the loss of Atlantis would deal a harsh blow to the struggle against the Wraith for all the peoples of this galaxy.
When Teyla entered, Dr. Weir looked up from an array of paperwork covering her desk. Many more files were packed in cases stacked up on the floor. A weary but sincere smile broke across her face. "Teyla. It's good to have you back."
"Thank you. My people are very grateful for your efforts to help bring us in." She glanced outside when the Stargate opened. Several dozen people crowded nearby, carrying equipment or standing beside baggage carts. All wore the same exhausted, despondent expressions on their faces.
"We're still a team-a family, even," the city's leader said firmly, standing from her desk and coming to join her. "Even now, or maybe especially now. The Athosians who were injured in the evacuation of the mainland are still in the infirmary. The rest have already gone to the Alpha site with the expedition's first group."
Teyla nodded and walked outside with her to the balcony. "The city evacuation is proceeding as planned?" A deep sadness settled over her heart as she watched the current group make its way through the 'gate. Perhaps she imagined it, but their steps seemed slow and unwilling, and many looked back, taking in one final memory of their adopted home.
"You could say that, except we keep amending the plans as we go." Dr. Weir glanced at her office and her desk. "We'll know whether Dr. Zelenka's mission was successful in a few hours. Until then, the Alpha site is our focus."