The only one on his team who seemed to be sitting silent and pensive was Teyla. Just as evident as Rodney’s excitement was the Athosian’s troubled countenance. On one level, John was glad that he was sensitized to each of his team members’ moods, but on another he couldn’t afford to let the current tensions continue unchecked. They were all on a sharp learning curve, having to accommodate unprecedented situations without so much as an out-of-date guidebook. Even Teyla, who had started out as their roving ambassador, had had to deal both with their alien Earth culture and with having some deep holes punched into her preconceived ideas about everyone from the Genii to the Ancients.
Right now, he was just hoping that everything went smoothly on this second visit to Dalera. Rodney might have had the right idea — although John would be damned if he said that out loud, seeing as McKay was already saying it enough for everyone — but John also had enough personal experiences stashed away in the recesses of his memory to suspect that Teyla wasn’t altogether wrong.
“Okay” he said to Rodney. “I have the controls.”
“Oh, c’mon!” his teammate whined. “At least let me fly it down through the atmosphere.”
John smirked at the lack of eloquence. He’d long suspected that their chief scientist had never been a child — or at least not a normal one — but that display had just proved otherwise. “Next lesson. Meanwhile, you can bring up the HUD.”
That request seemed to pacify Rodney somewhat. Coming in much higher this time, John noted that none of the EM fields activated before he parked the jumper on the outskirts of the village. That was a good sign.
Although Lisera had grasped the fundamentals of using crutches, she wasn’t entirely mobile yet. However, Yann was as good as his word, and was waiting with another couple of muscle-bound fishermen holding the stretcher. After making certain that everything they were carrying was switched off, and that they were well clear of the jumper, Teyla withdrew the Shields from where she’d hidden them between the rocks. Surprised that they were still there, John felt a stab of guilt for not entirely trusting the merchant. The return of the Wraith must have rekindled faith in Dalera’s Shields, even if those who currently wielded them afforded less respect.
“Zelenka may actually have come up with a useful suggestion,” Rodney ventured, accepting his Shield. “There may be a way to disable the capacitor.” He continued to mumble vague hypotheses during the short trek to the village.
Walking along the cobbled road to the inn, they encountered a mixed reaction. It beat their first visit hands-down, but it was still somewhat unsettling. While a number of kids ran up to Lisera, begging her to tell them of the magical things she’d seen, just as many adults looked on with unconcealed resentment. He’d already warned Lisera to say nothing of her ‘Chosen’ status until presenting the fact to Kesun, but that hadn’t kept her from describing Atlantis with a rapid string of slightly embellished adjectives.
When they reached the square, a bunch of people loaded down with goods obviously destined for market were parked outside the inn. None of them looked happy. Check that. One of them, Balzar, had a smug smile on his face. “Market day in the Citadel, huh?” John inquired to Yann.
The merchant’s face darkened. “No. Since your arrival, a change has come. We must now double what we once paid before we are allowed entry into the transport. Additionally, we must pay in advance.”
“What?” One word was enough to summarize Rodney’s disbelief, but naturally he didn’t leave it at that. “What can the Chosen possibly need with all that food when there are so few—”
“Dr McKay,” Teyla all but hissed. “Had we not agreed to return Lisera to the Citadel first?”
“After you, Rodney.” John pushed open the door of the inn and gave the scientist a not-quite-gentle prod in the back. Offering a smile in Yann’s direction, and raising his voice so that the waiting villagers could hear, he added, “Let’s hold off until we discuss a few things with the Chosen.”
“And if the Wraith return?” someone called.
“Then I’ll come back here,” John replied, lifting his Shield. “That’s a promise.”
Mutters of grudging acceptance followed him into the inn. The old guy behind the bar was standing in the exact same spot where John had left him, still looking surly, although his expression shifted somewhat when Yann entered with Lisera and the other merchants.
That was yet another thing that had John’s self-preservation skills screaming. Something wasn’t adding up. He might have chalked it up to the heightened fear and resentment in the village, except Teyla seemed equally tense and watchful. She returned his glance with a subtle shake of her head. No Wraith, then, but something.
The fishermen carrying Lisera walked down into the transport ahead of Ford, who was also looking around, alert for anything amiss. Rodney was already inside, practically bouncing on his toes. “I’m looking forward to this.”
“Did I mention that I’ve added a spiked metal plate to the heel of my boots?” John remarked, stepping in beside him and placing his palm on the single light.
“Oh, you won’t have to worry about me speaking out of turn,” Rodney replied. “I’ll be quite happy just to observe and feel utterly vindicated.”
The doors opened on a familiar feculent odor, and the scientist’s smile slipped a few notches. The Sanctuary Hall was still as grubby and crowded and noisy as it had been two days earlier, although the area around the entrance to the transport seemed marginally less cluttered. In fact, it looked as if—
Too late, John saw thick rope nets fly across them. Before he’d even had a chance to raise his weapon, he felt himself jerked off his feet. Teyla’s warning cry had likewise come too late. Rodney yelped an objection moments later, when John found himself directly on top of the scientist, on the floor, twisted up inside the greasy net. Then he became aware of the smell and feel of a dozen bodies crowded around them.
“We will not harm you,” Yann called above their cries, “if you cease struggling, and release your weapons to us.”
Someone near him — Teyla, by the feel of it — continued to twist around inside the net, no doubt trying to free at least one of her arms. John tried to reach for his knife, but the mesh pulled tighter and Yann called out again, “We promise you no harm, but you must listen!”
Damn it, damn it, damn it. And people wondered why he seemed to live by gut instinct rather than set plans. It wasn’t out of any deep desire to rock the boat. It was because when he ignored that instinct, crap like this tended to happen.
“Is my arm still attached to my shoulder?” Rodney inquired in a plaintive voice. “It’s hard to tell at the moment, what with the pain and the awkward angle and the grown man lying on top of me.”
“Believe me when I say it isn’t by choice, Rodney.”
Ford’s, “Sir?” was muffled, but John knew what the Lieutenant was asking.
Heaving a sigh, he made the all but inevitable decision. “All right. We’re listening.”
The net slackened, and they untangled themselves. Their weapons were pulled away, disappearing into the throng of people, and their wrists were bound with thick ropes. Outmaneuvered by a bunch of guys with a net. They were never going to live this one down.
“We have no wish to make enemies of you,” Yann began, his expression so earnest that John almost believed him. “On the contrary, we hope you will find us to be worthy allies.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not shaking your hand.” John gave a sarcastic tug on his bindings.