Her voice softened, and he could see what she saw, the pictures that she spoke. “The story begins as all stories begin, in the blue fire of a gate. A gate opened. A city rose from the sea, and legends walk. We stand in the time of story, my Guide. Blood binds to blood and like to like. Three sisters dwelt apart, one toiling in a distant land, one a slave, and one a queen. But that cannot be the end of the story, can it? How, Guide, shall this story turn?”
Like vast blocks beneath the earth moving in darkness, a piece fell into place soundlessly, like a deep subsonic shockwave spreading endlessly through the night. Stories too vast and too dangerous to tell, boxes with no keys, shadows cast by no light — all those things and more ran through his mind. Guide saw, and so did Teyla Emmagan.
“We are the story,” she said.
Sheppard’s blood running through his veins, bringing him to life in the depths of Kolya’s prison. Sheppard beneath the sea, falling on his knees to Coldamber. Snow turning to see him, her eyes lighting in a smile like Steelflower’s, warm and full of mysteries. The spires of Atlantis against the sky, the secret turnings of the hive, Earth’s Stargate flaring deep within its concealing mountain.
Sheppard and Guide. Snow and Teyla Emmagan. Waterlight and Alabaster and Jennifer Keller bent over her work. Osprey vanishing like mist and Amitas clothed in white, and a woman from the distant plains of Earth going about her work with a weapon in her hand, her green eyes bright as Sheppard’s.
“We are the story,” she said. “We hold it all within us.” Her voice choked and steadied. “And I do not know how it can end except in rivers of blood.”
“I do not know either,” Guide said, and reaching took her hand, as though she were his queen indeed, as though they were long lovers.
She did not flinch, only closed her small fingers around his. “I do not know,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Two Queens
The George Hammond cruised through hyperspace, serene and cool against the blue shifted blur. Eleven hours until time.
John lay stretched out on the lower bunk of one of the Hammond’s empty crew quarters, halfway between sleeping and waking. The noise of the ship was soothing, the low key sounds of systems working normally. Best to sleep while he could.
There was no point in worrying about the rest of his team. Ronon and Cadman and Keller were probably sleeping too. On the upper bunk above him Radek Zelenka was snoring softly.
We’re coming to get you, John thought, as though Rodney could hear it. I promise.
Nine hours until time. Jennifer Keller turned over on the narrow bunk, trying to get comfortable. Private quarters were scarce on the Hammond. Laura Cadman was permanently assigned to the Hammond’s crew, however, and as a captain rated a single room the size of a closet. It had been nice of her to offer to let Jennifer take a nap there while she did whatever it was she did.
Jennifer didn’t know her well, and she felt distinctly awkward around her. Laura had been a good friend of Katie Brown’s, people said. She’d tried to play matchmaker for Katie and Rodney. How she felt about Rodney’s next girlfriend was up in the air.
But it wasn’t as though Rodney had broken up with Katie for her. They’d called it quits months before she and Rodney had even considered going out. And ok, maybe Rodney had dumped Katie really awkwardly, but that was just Rodney. It didn’t have anything to do with her. He’d said it was because he didn’t want to get married, but then he’d been the one in a hurry.
Maybe because he knew he didn’t have much time left, some part of Jennifer whispered, some part that was ruthlessly thumped and put away. But it refused to stay in the box no matter how hard she shoved it down. They’d had nearly a year. That was as much as some people got. If that was all there was for Rodney…
Down. Jennifer shoved the thought from her mind. She wasn’t going to think like that. They were going to get Rodney back. And then everything was going to be fine.
Or was it, the treacherous little voice whispered. What if he was Wraith? What if he was crazy like Michael? Was that really what she planned to do with her life — nurse someone permanently insane? Was that what Rodney would want for her?
We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Jennifer thought grimly. There was no reason to think that Rodney would be impaired that way. If he survived going off the retrovirus…
And then everything will be peachy? Her little internal voice just wouldn’t be stopped. What if he wants to stay in Atlantis forever? What if he wants to get married? She could never bring up a child there the way Teyla was with Torren, never knowing if they were going to be attacked, never knowing what awful thing might happen. She felt a sick guilt over the cat! Children ought to be raised somewhere safe, with good schools and other kids and Little League teams and Girl Scouts and nothing worse that happened than cancer and car accidents. Not here, where any minute something might happen. How many gravely wounded children had she seen in the last three years on how many planets? There was no way she’d risk a child of hers that way. Never.
Rodney would understand that. And besides, Rodney didn’t like children. He probably wouldn’t want any, ever. He’d rather stay in Atlantis, living like he was in grad school forever, racing toy cars with Sheppard in the middle of the night…
Jennifer turned over, blinking. Laura Cadman’s pictures regarded her solemnly from the wall over the bed, an old couple with their arms around her, one on each side, while she smiled from beneath her beret, impeccable in service dress and brand new lieutenant’s bars. Across the bottom someone had written, “We are so proud of you Laura!” She topped the old woman by a head. The man smiled into the camera, the corners of his mouth wobbly with emotion.
Did they have any idea what she did? Probably not. No more than Jennifer’s father did. He didn’t ask anymore.
Dad, I’m home to stay, in Nevada. Oh wait. Two months later and I’m gone again. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything about it. I can’t call. You can email me, and I’ll reply in a week or two. That’s all.
Jennifer put her head down on the pillow. They’d find Rodney. And they’d get him back to normal. And then there would be time to think about all the rest of this.
Seven hours until time.
Ronon sat down at the table in the Hammond’s mess, realizing belatedly that he had a plate full of chicken casserole and no utensils. Maybe the bread, but that was going to get stares from the Hammond’s people at nearby tables and comments about barbarians who don’t know how to eat, an embarrassment to Sheppard and to Carter who had originally invited him to join the Hammond’s crew.
A pair of chopsticks in a paper packet waved in front of him, and Ronon looked up. Captain Cadman smiled down at him from beneath her beret, a tray in her other hand. “Spare pair,” she said.