It was repeating itself.
The merging imminent, that shimmering holographic vision of Ikaros hung above the crystal assembly of Charybdis's core, smiling down at Elizabeth. "My motivation for doing this is irrelevant, Dr. Weir, and it doesn't affect the functioning of Charybdis. You can't prevent the inevitable, but I assure you, nobody will be harmed-except the Wraith."
Elizabeth was turning to him, panic written all over her face, about to shout his name, and John, feeling himself slot into unity with his other self, prayed that this was the beat that he'd missed before. "Rodney! Pull the plug! Now!"
McKay executed a classy fish dive toward the generator, and even as he was watching him, a horrible conviction slammed into John-he was late, again, after all that. The ephemeral shape of Ikaros brightened into a whirl of colors, blossoming above the core unit of Charybdis, stretching toward the ceiling, expanding to fill the interior of the dome and suffuse them all. Rodney hung suspended mid-flight, horizontally in the air, fingers splayed and-
His motionless body began to shed an unearthly golden light. It feathered out into glowing coils, wrapped around the rainbow whorl that was the union of Charybdis and the Ikaros program, snaked through it like a weaver's shuttle though the warp, in living, pulsing threads of gold, compacted the destructive iridescence-it reminded John of nothing so much as a kid kneading the mother of all snowballs-and hurled it back into the core of Charybdis.
In the end it was utterly and oddly unspectacular. The radiance of the crystal core dimmed and winked out, and the dullness spread outward like ripples in a pond to climb the walls of the dome. The being Ikaros had become hovered serenely where his holographic counterfeit had risen only seconds ago. Two of those luminous octopus arms gently lowered Rodney to the ground.
He will be alright, a disembodied voice assured them. I've healed him.
Personally, John thought Ikaros might have done that a little sooner.
I couldn't. I wasn't complete before.
Ah. It made sense in a weird sort of way. Not all of him had found its way into Rodney the first time round… only the matching personality traits. John grinned, stared up at that uncanny lightshow. "So you're fully ascended now?"
Somehow the Day-Glo squid managed to throw out a nod.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, and I'm not complaining or anything, but if you're ascended, aren't you supposed not to inter fere?"
The air rippled with silent laughter.
Rectifying interference could be defined as un-interference, don't you think… nephew? Besides, now it will have been me who has written that rule, so I suppose I rate a little wiggle room.
John didn't even try to wrap his head around the sequence of tenses and its implications. He'd had enough of temporal paradoxes to last him a lifetime. And then some.
You should go now The crystal lattices are disintegrating, and the dome won't be stable for much longer I'll see you around.
"Is that a threat?"
Another ripple of laughter, and Ikaros rose toward the apex of the dome, bled through the ceiling. For a moment John could still see a shimmer of brightness shining through the walls, then that was gone, too. The crystal structure dimmed, dullness spreading like a blight.
"Should have put the kid over my knee while I had a chance," growled Ronon. He stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, his face haggard with fatigue, but he was smiling.
"For once in my life I agree with you." Rodney climbed to his feet and cautiously poked at the remnants of the Charybdis core. "It's dead. He wrecked it. And you probably can scrap that naquada generator, too. I'll just have to-"
"Rodney!" Elizabeth and Radek shouted in unison.
Across the chamber, past the brewing argument, Teyla looked at him, her eyes back to their rich, dark brown. Charybdis had never happened, and she had never been blinded by it. She smiled at him. "Maybe we should go home, Colonel…"
Home.
There was a thought.
"Yes. Let's go home."
Epilogue
"Congratulations." Carson Beckett flicked off his penlight and pointed at an eye chart on the infirmary wall. "You also read the really wee bits in the bottom line over there, so I'd say twenty-twenty vision. Better than that. Whatever it was that affected your eyes, Teyla, it's cleared up completely."
"Thank you, Dr. Beckett "
"You're welcome." He cocked his head, looked at her quiz- zingly for a moment.
She knew her thanks had sounded a lot less self-contained than her usual self, but then, no eye exam could measure the vibrancy of color, the richness of texture, the warmth of the smiles she saw. And it couldn't measure what it meant. Nor could she adequately explain it.
Somehow Dr. Beckett seemed to grasp the gist of it though. "Never mind." He grinned. "Go on. Get out of here. You can go check on Colonel Sheppard. If he's hopping around like a yoyo send him right back to me."
"I will." She returned his grin, slid off the gurney she'd been sitting on, and headed out into the corridor.
It was busy at midmorning, people bustling along, on errands or changing shifts, some on their way to the mess for a break, others returning from there. Voices, brisk footfalls, laughter, and a sense of purpose-life. She'd spent a lot of time in the corridors and common areas lately, more than usual, because she needed to soak in this buzz. It went a long way toward dispelling the lingering memories of these same hallways filled with silence, ancient dust, and the staleness of death.
Without consciously intending to, from sheer habit perhaps, she ended up in the control center. At least she could make good on her promise to Dr. Beckett. Not entirely surprisingly, Colonel Sheppard was there, perched on the desk in Dr. Weir's office. He'd been released from the infirmary only the previous day, after a week of strict bed rest to tend a severe concussion. Toward the end of it he'd almost wept with boredom.
so Rodney got nowhere?" he asked.
Dr. Weir shook her head. "Apart from managing to repair the naquada generator he found nothing. Which left him more than usually frustrated… and frustrating." She gave a pained grin, then discovered Teyla hovering in the door. "Oh. Hi. Come in. What did Dr. Beckett say?"
"I am fine."
Colonel Sheppard perked up. "Does that mean we can take up our sparring sessions again?"
As invited, Teyla took a couple of steps into the office and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Since, in your case, that would qualify as hopping around like a yoyo, I would be required to send you back to the infirmary."
" I sense a lack of due respect. What do you think, Elizabeth?"
Stifling a grin, Dr. Weir tapped a sheaf of printouts sitting on her desk. "I think you both should have a look at this."
The look in Colonel Sheppard's eyes said that he'd just estimated the height of the stack of paper as too high. "Reading's contraindicated for concussion. Can you give us the Reader Digest version?"
"I can." Weir's grin broke free, indicating that she knew exactly what he was playing at. "But you still should take a look at it. I guarantee you'll find it fascinating. More fascinating than War and Peace." She settled back in her chair, steepled her fingers under her chin, and the grin disappeared. "I've asked the historians to do some further digging into Ikaros. What they came up with… differs a little from their original research. It seems Ikaros was the one who introduced the Ancients to the possibility-of ascension."