He as ready as we are going to be.
I'll right, then.âBeckett looked over his shoulder at the empty chamber, the lights gleaming in its depths.
Sheppard wanted to ask him what it had been like for him, if he had dreamed, if he remembered being there. If it still filled the corners of his nightmares the way it did his own, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answers. Instead, he touched his earpiece. This is Colonel Sheppard. You can bring the prisoner.
Todd looked less starved in his own clothes, more menacing. He've been placed in the same restraints he was worn before, the shackles that held his arms close to his side, but he strode into the room as though he owned it, the Marines with their lowered weapons as much escort as guard. It took balls to do that, Sheppard thought, even as he moved to meet them, that and a perverse sense of the dramatic.
The Wraith bared his teeth as though he’d guessed the thought, and one of the Marines lifted his P90 just a little. Sheppard glared at him, and the man shuffled his feet, relaxing again.
“You ready for this?” he said, and Todd made a sound that might have been laughter.
“I have hibernated many times before.”
Keller stepped around the console, stood looking up at the Wraith. She was within arm’s reach if he’d been free, and Sheppard wondered if she realized it. “I want you to understand that we don’t know that this will work. That there is a possibility that it will kill you rather than put you into stasis.”
“I am well aware of it,” Todd answered. He fixed his eyes on Sheppard. “But there seem to be very few alternatives.”
“None at all,” Sheppard said, and saw Todd nod almost imperceptibly.
Keller’s mouth tightened again. “All right.”
She stepped back, and Todd moved toward the stasis chamber, the Marines following. Sheppard moved with them, and wasn’t surprised when Todd turned back to face him.
“I don’t suppose—” The Wraith lifted his shackled hands, and Sheppard shook his head.
“Not a chance.”
“Very well.” Todd looked back at the chamber.
“A little different from what you’re used to,” Sheppard said. “But, who knows, you may even find it comfy.”
Todd showed teeth again, and stepped up onto the platform. He turned to face the door, his hands still held low at his side, and his eyes sought Sheppard’s. “Until next time, then.”
Sheppard nodded. That was what this was about, that there be a next time — yeah, Todd had gotten them the ZPMs that saved the city, but it was more than just owing him. “Next time,” he said, softly, and Beckett looked up from his controls.
“Ready to begin.”
“Starting the process,” Keller answered, so close at Sheppard’s elbow that he started and then stepped back. She showed no signs of having noticed, all her focus on the displays in front of her.
The chamber door slid shut, sealed with a sound so soft and deep it was more like a touch, the pressure of a finger against his breastbone. The transparent covering clouded, and Sheppard looked quickly over Keller’s shoulder. The indicators were shifting, flickering — going from yellow to green, most of them. A few wavered between yellow and orange; she frowned, touched keys, and at last those stabilized. The board glowed solid green, and Keller looked up with a sigh of relief.
“He’s in stasis. Everything’s holding.”
“Good job, love,” Beckett said. “Very good job.”
“Yeah,” Sheppard said. His voice caught oddly — stress, he thought — and he had to clear his throat. “Good work.”
“Thanks,” Keller said, and glanced sideways at him. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Sheppard said. He forced a smile, knowing in the instant he did it that it would come out wrong. Teyla would have called him on it, but Keller said nothing. He looked past her to the stasis chamber. The Wraith looked almost serene, the way he had when they’d revived him on his hive not so many months ago: let’s hope this one ends better, Sheppard thought, and turned away.
Chapter Four
Shut Out
Woolsey had only been back in Atlantis half an hour, back from yet another cross country flight to deal with the IOA and the rest of the politics, but he was in his office, his head buried in his laptop.
John slouched through the door without knocking. “Any news?”
Woolsey’s eyes were grim as he looked up. “Shut the door.”
It slid shut behind John without his touch.
“They’re not buying it,” Woolsey said. “Nechayev and Dixon-Smythe have both dug their heels in for different reasons, and I can’t budge either of them.” His eyes flickered over John. “Have you taken care of the issue with Todd?”
John nodded and came around to sit in one of the office chairs. “He’s in stasis. Carson says he’s fine and that the systems are normal. Apparently they adapt to his metabolism as well as to a human’s.”
“One less thing to worry about, at least until the IOA hears what we’ve done with him.” Woolsey pushed his laptop back on the desk. “It’s not looking good.”
“We have to go back,” John said. “We can’t just…”
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Woolsey held up a hand. “Colonel Sheppard, I know what you want and I assure you I’m on the same page. But the IOA is not. Our allies are running scared because of the hive ship. They are beginning to get an inkling of what the Wraith reaching Earth would mean. Now that the Antarctic chair is destroyed, Atlantis is our only way of taking out a hive ship. It’s understandable that they want to keep Atlantis and her weapons capability here.”
“The best way to deal with the Wraith is to hit them in Pegasus,” John said.
“The Wraith are not the only thing that Earth has had to deal with,” Woolsey said. “The Goa’uld and the Ori, for example, have both posed credible threats. The IOA is understandably concerned about leaving Earth defenseless.”
John rubbed the middle of his forehead. “So you’re saying that the IOA…”
“I’m saying that we may be staying,” Woolsey said, and waited a long moment for that to sink all the way to the pit of John’s stomach. “I have not yet hit on any argument sufficient to convince any single IOA member or their government that letting Atlantis return to Pegasus is a good idea. Letting them see this city punched all their buttons. But how could we refuse to let them visit?”
“We could have locked the door,” John said. He was being unreasonable and he knew it. “We could have told them no.”
“On what grounds?” Woolsey shook his head.
“It’s not theirs,” John said. “It doesn’t belong to them.”
“It doesn’t belong to us either.” Woolsey met his eyes. “It’s not your city, John.”
John flinched. It felt like it was. It was his home, the only place he’d ever felt…
“I’m doing everything I can,” Woolsey said. “But it’s only fair to tell you that may not be enough. Atlantis may be staying on Earth for the foreseeable future.”
Teyla looked over at the glass doors to Woolsey’s office and frowned. He and John did not seem to be having a happy conversation.
“Do you know what they are talking about?” she asked Rodney, who was sitting at the control panel with his laptop propped on the DHD.
“Um?” Rodney didn’t look up. “Who?”
“Mr. Woolsey and Colonel Sheppard,” Teyla said. “Rodney, are you paying attention?”
“No.” He didn’t look up, the light from the laptop playing across his face.
“Rodney,” she said in a very different tone, “I need your help.”
He glanced up, startled. She hadn’t meant to sound quite that miserable. “What’s wrong?”