It seemed to be the right answer, at least, because Halling was visibly relieved. With a smile he stepped forward and hauled both boys to their feet. One of them he took by the hands — a dark-haired, skinny kid with round eyes — and touched his forehead with his own.
"Jinto, how often have I told you not to play in the forest after dark?" Halling softened when the boy frowned, duly chastened. "But I am glad you are safe." He stood straight, still keeping one of the boy's hands in his. "Come," he said to Sheppard, glancing at Ford and Sumner to include them too, "Teyla will wish to meet with you."
Teyla being the boss, Sheppard assumed.
Without further invitation Halling turned and strode back into the trees, hauling the two children after him. As they left, Sheppard just caught Jinto's plaintive whisper to his friend. "Next time I get to be the Wraith…"
But Sumner didn't move, watching the guy leave with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Sir?" Sheppard was afraid they were going to lose them in the forest. "I think we're supposed to follow…"
"Sharp thinking, Sheppard," the Colonel growled. "Thank God you're here." Sheppard glared, but Sumner just turned away and keyed his radio. "Parker, Smitty, you're on gate duty. Dial Atlantis base and let the good doctor know we've made contact with the indigenous people."
The good doctor? Nice. Respectful.
Without another word, Sumner headed after Halling. Arrogant bastard. If he thought he could intimidate John Sheppard with his barbed comments and veiled disrespect to Weir, then he'd- A hand landed on his shoulder and Sheppard looked up to see Ford standing at his side. The lieutenant didn't say anything, but there was wisdom in the kid's eyes. Let it go, they said. And they were right. This time.
But, swear to God, if that patronizing SOB didn't get the hell off his ass Sheppard was gonna call him on it. And to hell with the chain of command; men like Sumner didn't deserve respect.
Colonel Marshall Sumner was not a happy man. Not only had he been saddled with a civilian woman as mission leader, but she had insisted — with her unsurpassed knowledge of how fighting units worked — on forcing him to take a loose cannon along for the ride.
Sumner didn't like Sheppard, and he didn't give a damn who knew it. Out here in the field, where your life and those of your team depended on following the goddamn order to the letter, you didn't need men like Sheppard. They were dangerous, they damaged unit morale and, frankly, they were irritating as hell. If he'd had his way, Sheppard would never have set foot through the gate. But all his objections had been overruled by the little doctor, and so he was lumbered with the jerk.
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking-" The unexpected interruption came from Lieutenant Ford. Now there was a kid you could trust; there was a kid who'd go far. "I noticed you've got a problem with Major Sheppard."
Ten out of ten for observation. Sumner kept his eyes front, not wanting to lose sight of the man they were following through the trees. Halling. He looked like a peasant; Sumner didn't hold out much hope that these people would be able to offer any meaningful assistance. "My problem, Lieutenant," he said, "is with his record. I don't like people who don't respect the proper chain of command."
"Yessir," came the abrupt response, but there was a touch of surprise in it that Sumner found irritating. The other problem with men like Sheppard was that they were altogether too plausible, too charming… People trusted them when they had no cause to. In fact, people trusted them when they were the last people anyone should trust. Because they weren't team players. No, sir, not men like Sheppard.
Ford dropped back slightly, no doubt to rejoin the Major. Sumner let him go, but kept his ears open as they walked. Sheppard was talking with the two kids. Maybe he was enjoying the conversation of intellectual equals for a change, because it wasn't like they were gonna cough up any tactical info. Charm triumphing over substance again; Sheppard just liked the sound of his own voice.
"What was that mask you were wearing?" one of the boys asked. Jinto, Sumner remembered, Halling's son by the looks of him.
"It helps us see in the dark," Sheppard replied, handing it over. "Here, check it out." And there goes $20,000 of tax payers' money…
"Wow!" came the awed response, followed by the whines of the other child.
"Let me see…"
Like the toy it wasn't, Sheppard allowed his equipment to be passed between the kids. So help him, if they broke it…
"Can I have it?" the other boy asked.
"Nope," came the Major's answer. At least he had that much sense. "So, what were you all dressed up as?"
"Wraith," the kid answered. And that was the second time Sumner had heard that name. Did he mean ghost?
"Wraith?" Sheppard repeated. "What's that?"
Jinto seemed astonished. "You don't know?"
"What world do you come from?" the other asked, equally amazed.
Sheppard hesitated. "Actually," he said slowly, "we come from a galaxy far, far away…"
Ha-ha. Fortunately Sumner's attention was dis tracted from Sheppard's lame humor by the fact that the trees around them were thinning, and ahead he could see the first signs of civilization. If that was the right word. Torches glittered like gold in the thin predawn light, giving just enough illumination to reveal some kind of shantytown. It was far from permanent, just a collection of tents and sketchy huts that looked as if a stiff breeze would reduce them to matchsticks. The air was thick with wood smoke and the stench of unwashed people and animals. A few of the locals drifted between the tents, as ragged as the settlement itself, eyeing the strangers with a mixture of caution and curiosity.
Sumner sensed no threat from these people, but they weren't what he needed. There was no technology here, no weapons, nothing they could use. Mission failure; the sooner they got back to the gate, the better.
Disappointed, he turned to Sheppard. The man was gazing at the ragtag camp with interest, taking it all in as if the entire dung heap were an object of fascination. It only irritated Sumner more. This wasn't why they were here; Atlantis was drowning, the entire mission was on the point of failure, and Sheppard was ogling the natives.
"These people don't have anything we need," Sumner growled, keeping his voice down. "This is a waste of time."
Sheppard just smiled. Right then, the Colonel could have punched his lights out.
The hour was early, and sleep was just releasing its hold on the mind of Teyla Emmagan as she sat drinking tea and thinking of the day to come. It would soon be time to move their encampment to the summer pastures, but Toran had warned her only yesterday that the river still flowed too high. Yet the days were pressing on, and the need to move became more urgent daily. Perhaps they could take the north route, if the snows had cleared? The air, even here in the forest, was still cold, but soon-
Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion at the door of the yurt as Hailing ducked inside, followed by four exotic-looking travelers. Immediately he came to her and murmured, "These men are traders.
With a nod, Teyla rose and slowly approached the newcomers. They were well armed and in a fashion she had not seen before. Their clothing was unusual and she could not help but notice that they carried little to trade, unless they planned to trade their wits.
At her approach one of the men pulled off his hat and offered a smile. "Nice to meet you," he said. He spoke with a lilt to his accent that was as unfamiliar as his clothing, but there was a warmth in his eyes that spoke of honesty.
"I am Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan," she began, introducing herself formally, as was proper. Any further words were forestalled by the interruption of another of their party.
"Is your father available to meet with us?"