Richard Woolsey let the door of his office close behind him, cutting off the murmur and hurry of the gateroom. He'd been meeting with Ladon Radim off and on since that morning, and he was beginning to feel the need for a moment's quiet thought. Radim was still politely adamant that he would not send for the Pride of the Genii without a sample of the ATA gene therapy, and now Hyperion's weapon was missing. The Wraith weren't happy about that, and Woolsey couldn't really blame them. If he were in Guide's place, he wouldn't believe them either.
But that was O'Neill's problem for the moment. Right now, he needed to get Radim off Atlantis and headed home to collect the Pride of the Genii before he heard anything about a missing weapon and figured out what that weapon did. In fact — Woolsey stopped abruptly. Surely it was impossible for the Genii to have had anything to do with the missing weapon. Radim himself had been in the conference room since he came through the Stargate, and the Marines had been watching his guards and the spy. Or at least they were supposed to have been. He glanced quickly at his watch, and touched his radio.
"Major Lorne."
"Sir?" Lorne's voice was wary, as well it might be.
"I need you to confirm for me that the rest of the Genii — Mr. Radim's escort and the messenger — have been under observation since they came through the gate."
"Yes, sir," Lorne said. "I'm still trying to coordinate the search of the city —"
"This needs to take priority," Woolsey said firmly, and could almost hear the snick of teeth as Lorne closed his mouth over further protest.
"Yes, sir," he said again. "I'll let you know as soon as possible."
"Thank you," Woolsey said. Unfortunately, it didn't entirely solve the problem. If the Genii had an agent in the city — it was admittedly unlikely, but couldn't entirely be ruled out — then someone could have gotten them the weapon, or be waiting to give it to them before they left. And that had to be prevented. He glanced again at the shelf of books he'd brought with him from Earth, the books that he had carried with him through hundreds of postings, stories of heroes to remind him that, while he himself was not a hero and never would be, nonetheless actions mattered. As did decisions. He needed Radim's cooperation, and he couldn't afford to let him get access to any Ancient technology, never mind Hyperion's weapon: how to arrange both?
The radio clicked, and he touched his earpiece. "Woolsey."
"Lorne here, sir. My men confirm that the Genii escort has been under direct observation the entire time they've been in the city. No one has seen anything out of the ordinary."
"Thank you, Major," Woolsey said, and Lorne cut the connection without further comment. Heading back to the search, Woolsey knew, but he would not feel guilty for distracting him. There was more to deal with here than just finding Hyperion's weapon.
He looked out into the control room again. If Radim and the Genii were somehow involved in the weapon's disappearance, they hadn't gotten it in hand yet. And that meant they probably weren't involved and had no idea the thing existed, and his job should be to get them out of Atlantis before they found out anything more. But he needed to be sure before they left that they weren't carrying the thing….
Naquadah. The weapon's casing was naquadah, and there was such a thing as a naquadah detector. The Genii party could be scanned in the gateroom before they went through — for that matter, they could be scanned now, in the conference room, and no one would be the wiser. He waved his hand at the door and walked back into into the control room.
"Dr. Zelenka."
Zelenka looked up sharply, and came out from behind his console. "More troubles?"
"Not exactly." Woolsey tipped his head toward the redundant stations at the end of the row of consoles, empty now while the scientists concentrated on the sensor suite, and Zelenka followed, his frown deepening. "I need a word with you."
"And I am here."
"I need you to scan the Genii party for traces of naquadah," Woolsey said. "I understand the limitations on the process, but surely that room doesn't contain undue amounts? And I need to be certain that — however unlikely it seems — Ladon Radim has not gotten his hands on the missing item."
Zelenka pursed his lips. "Yes. Yes, I think I can do that. There is always naquadah, of course, that's been our problem, but I believe I can discount that, at least in that volume." He paused. "And before you ask, that is why we cannot find this object by scanning the city. If we knew where to look, that would be different, but not knowing —"
"I understand," Woolsey said, and Zelenka adjusted his glasses.
"Yes, sorry. Give me moment." He turned back to the bank of screens, said something quiet to one of the airmen, who promptly gave up his seat. Woolsey moved quietly to look over his shoulder, though the images that flashed across the screen were mostly unfamiliar. He recognized a tower schematic, and then something that seemed to be the plan of the conference rooms, but most of the code was in Ancient. The schematic reappeared, a green dot swelling until it seemed to fill an entire section or corridor. A chime sounded, and the light vanished.
"Well," Zelenka said, swinging away from the console. "That is your answer. There is no more than a normal trace of naquadah in those rooms."
"Thank you, Dr. Zelenka," Woolsey said, and took a deep breath. This was the hard part, the judgment call, and regardless of advice, the decision was his alone. "General O'Neill, it's Woolsey. I need a quick word with you. In person."
There was a moment of silence, and then O'Neill said, "We were just about to take a break — not for snacks. I'll meet you."
Woolsey straightened his jacket, not for the first time wishing for the armor of a proper suit and tie, and made his way toward the main conference room. O'Neill was there ahead of him, of course, leaning one shoulder against the wall, head cocked to one side as he listened to Major Lorne. He looked up alertly at Woolsey's approach, and Lorne broke off.
"Any news?" Woolsey asked.
Lorne shook his head. "Sorry, sir." He looked back to O'Neill. "If you'll excuse me, sir?"
"Actually," Woolsey said, "this is something that concerns you, Major. If you don't mind."
"That doesn't sound good," O'Neill said. Lorne looked as though he wanted to agree, but regulations kept him silent.
"We are very nearly at an impasse with Mr. Radim," Woolsey said, "as well as with the Wraith. And I believe we need to remove the Genii from Atlantis as quickly as possible for — well, reasons that I know you both understand. Mr. Radim is demanding a sample of the gene therapy that activates a recessive copy of the ATA gene before he will order the Pride of the Genii to join our fight. And, although the ATA gene seems to be vanishingly rare in the Pegasus Galaxy, it does exist. Also — Mr. Radim has obtained a sample of the ATA gene in the past, though we don’t know if his technicians have been able to isolate it well enough to use in the gene therapy."
"He's bluffing," O'Neill said.
"Maybe," Woolsey said. "But we don't have the time to find out."
O'Neill grimaced. "You're not seriously proposing that we give them the therapy —"
"Neither Dr. Keller nor Dr. Beckett think the Genii will be able to rework our technique to allow them to insert an artificial ATA gene," Woolsey said. "Nor do they think the recessive is significantly more common than the expressed gene. I think it's more important to get them out of here and bringing a warship to our aid than to stonewall on this. I would like to offer them access to the therapy and a volunteer who could pilot the ship for them."