"I love you." Her words faded, and her body went limp in his arms.
Holding her close, Rodney was paralyzed by loss and shame. In spite of his tirade, he couldn't fault his teammates or even Vend for their reactions when he'd held those same preconceptions himself. Actually, that wasn't true. He did blame them, and he blamed himself right along with them. Knowing as he did what it felt like to be rejected, how could he have judged her, even for a second?
Throughout the room, many of the cliff-dwellers were discovering their lost children. Seeing families reunite all around him, Vend still looked fearful and, to Rodney's way of thinking, sickeningly ignorant. "These wretched creatures should not hold such power," he protested, turning to accuse Nabu. "It was you who denied us the Ancestors' plans for this world. You stole our birthright!"
Nabu rounded on him, tears streaming down his scarred face. "And you have blinded yourself so completely that you no longer recognize the child of your loins!" His hand shook as he pointed at Turpi. "You cast her out into the desert when she was but a baby. Born already understanding who and what she was, she begged you to keep her, promising never to harm you. But your closed mind would not hear her! And yet she loved you to this day. Turpi, and many of our people, would have survived the poison that the waters would have released. Still, she chose to sacrifice herself to save you and the future of this world." He stabbed a finger at the other man's chest.
Vend inhaled sharply, comprehension dawning at last.
His gaze moving from Nabu to Vene to Rodney, Sheppard finally found his voice. "I, uh, think maybe we'd better leave these people to their reunions and get that machine back to Atlantis."
Rodney couldn't find the energy to care about any of it. He eased Turpi's body to the floor with exquisite care. Kneeling on the ground with his arms wrapped around her, he let his head sink to her chest, utterly lost inside.
Chapter Twenty
Ronon kept a close eye on both Vend and Nabu, not fully trusting either of them just yet. He could see that the villagers were beginning to recognize and welcome the others into their midst, but he didn't understand how they'd been driven apart in the first place. Cast out into the sandstorms? Were they serious?
Regardless of McKay's tirade, Ronon had not looked on Turpi in revulsion but with compassion. Like Teyla, the more he'd learned about the Ancestors, the more he came to believe that they hadn't been the benefactors that most people thought them to be.
Half expecting one of the cliff-dwellers to make a move, Ronon was caught off-guard when a bright light once more flooded the room. He squinted against the glare and found the source: the woman in McKay's arms. This time, however, the light was different, concentrating solely around her. As he watched, Turpi's body faded from existence, leaving nothing but clothes behind. The light glided upwards, disembodied, but with solid looking filaments reaching out and gently touching McKay's face.
Ronon had seen that light before. When Sheppard had been stuck in the time dilation field months earlier, the people who'd taken him in had vanished the same way, transformed into energy. Ascension, his teammates had called it. He'd heard accounts of it from a dozen worlds; even his own planet had tales about a state of existence that the Ancestors had striven for above all else. As a soldier, he hadn't paid much heed to spiritual matters, but by all accounts, it was quite a feat to achieve. Good for her.
The villagers appeared to recognize what was happening as well, watching with expressions of wonder, even awe. Some fell to their knees in supplication, while others staggered back. Whatever indignation Vend had possessed was gone in an instant, and he now gaped openly. The sadness on Nabu's face eased with a small smile, one that Ronon read as an acknowledgement of something richly deserved. Sometimes, it seemed, the universe played fair.
The coil of light hovered in front of McKay for a moment and then rose slowly. Its tendrils reached out to embrace Nabu and Vend, and everyone present, before vanishing from sight. Ronon figured that meant the show was over. These people were safe, so now it was Atlantis's turn.
He checked on Sheppard and found that his team leader had surreptitiously braced himself against the wall, his features taut. "Beckett's drugs wore off, huh?" Ronon asked.
"Pretty much." Collecting himself, the Colonel spent a moment focusing on the act of standing upright. Then, concentrating on each step, he went to McKay and dropped a hand onto the man's shoulder. "C'mon, Rodney. Time to save the day back home."
Turpi's robe still lay in McKay's loose grasp. He stared straight ahead, dazed and unresponsive.
Zelenka tried next. "Rodney, we must go now. Atlantis needs our help."
Something in that statement must have gotten through, because McKay nodded dumbly.
Offering him a hand up from the floor, Nabu said, "I will accompany you to Atlantis."
"Please." Vend took a step forward, his voice subdued. "I… I don't understand. We did not know. How could we have known? The records of the Ancestors were clear!"
There were a lot of things that Ronon might have said to that, but he'd long since learned that saying much of anything was a waste of time once people had set their minds in a certain direction. Nabu looked like he wanted to snap back the obvious reply, but instead said, "This world was but one more in many experiments that the Ancestors undertook."
Vend looked like a man whose faith had been severely shaken. Not unexpectedly, he still clung to past truths. "What poison do you speak of? Can we not continue Polrusso's transformation once all… considerations have been addressed?"
"No." McKay shook his head, raw grief unashamedly written across his features. "You're going to…have to wait." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat before continuing in a shaky tone. "The terraforming program here was set up exactly as your records show, but with a compound that was deliberately introduced in order to imbue you with immunity against the Wraith. Ancient-like abilities are a bonus side effect. You'll need to let the program run until-" He rubbed a sleeved arm across his eyes, clearing away the tears but not the anguish, and glanced at Nabu. "Until Nabu shuts it down."
Sounds of dismay erupted from the cliff-dwellers. "But how long must we wait?" asked one of the other Elders.
"Several more generations," replied Nabu.
Ronon stared at him. Generations, huh? Zelenka had said something about Nabu being part Ancient.
Cutting off Vene's disenchanted protest with a sharp swipe of his hand, McKay continued. "And you need to understand that it's these people, your children, who will inherit the new world you've been waiting for. The abilities they're developing are the future of this planet, possibly even this galaxy. If you want your civilization to survive, you'd better stop rejecting every child that looks different or acts outside the socially accepted norm." The normal bite in his tone was subdued, but emphatic nonetheless.
"And what are we to do when their madness endangers us all?" Vene's question was honest, the earlier condemnation gone.
"That won't be a problem." Rodney took a deep, steadying breath, clearly battling to recover his composure. "Nabu's people know how to control their abilities. They've been teaching each other for generations, and it'll be a lot easier for them to keep doing so if they don't have to hide from you or run around saving the kids you toss out like damaged goods." Despite the waver in his voice, there was also a clear challenge. Ronon could see that the emotional shutters were already slamming into place. An understandable tactic.
Teyla spoke up. "I do not believe anyone will be forced to hide any longer, Rodney." She inclined her head toward the villagers, many of them embracing their estranged children. "No one who saw what has happened this day will be able to return to the old ways."