"The most serious cases were transferred to the SGC last night, and the last of the minor cases as well as personnel with conditions that would endanger them should they remain on the city will be going through the Stargate with the 7 AM group. Dr. Beckett and I are still looking at seven cases where we believe the individuals should be evacuated, but the person in question doesn't agree, and we'll have final decisions before the 9 AM transfer."
Zelenka leaned forward. "I know we have spoken about this, Dr. Keller, but there are key personnel on that list."
"Yes, Dr. Zelenka, but I can't let them stay if they are likely to do themselves harm." Keller looked down the table at General O'Neill. "Or if they're not going to be able to fight."
"It's your call, Doctor," O'Neill said, mildly enough, and Zelenka shrugged agreement.
"Very good," Woolsey said, but Keller kept talking, folding her hands tightly on the tabletop.
"There's one other thing I wanted to bring up, and that's the retrovirus. The one that we've been working on that keeps the Wraith from killing people when they feed. Dr. Beckett and I have an experimental version which has worked, in the one trial we've made of it." She took a deep breath. "It's not hard to make, now that we know how, and Dr. Beckett and I — we thought it might be worth offering people the option of taking it."
There was a confused murmur of response around the table, and John sat up straighter. He'd known about the retrovirus, of course — Rodney had only survived his transformation back to a human being because he'd been able to feed on Keller without killing her, and he knew that Alabaster had brought some of the humans from her planet to test the serum — but he'd thought the side effects were too severe to risk in any kind of larger trial. "I thought —"
He stopped, realizing that everyone was looking at him, and O'Neill said, "Go on, Colonel."
John chose his words with care. "It was my understanding that the side effects were — at best — pretty serious."
Keller nodded. "That's possible. Dr. Beckett and I think we've modified the retrovirus in such a way that it won't cause as severe a reaction as it did when I took it — and that included convulsions and a ten-hour coma — but it hasn't been tested as anything except a computer simulation."
"But it works?" That was the Marine Major, Holmes, his eyes narrowed.
"It worked on me," Keller said. "And the simulations say it should work on everyone. But that's the problem, Major. It hasn't been tested on a wider sample, and right now there isn't time."
"What do you think the side effects are likely to be?" Carter asked.
"We think —" Keller emphasized the second word. "We think that it's likely to be headache and nausea and maybe dizziness, plus pain at the injection site. Possibly fever."
"Which sounds debilitating enough," Carter said.
"And that's why I'm bringing it up now," Keller said. "The Wraith are still some eighteen hours away — there's just barely time to take the retrovirus and let it take hold before they get here."
"If you're right about the symptoms and their duration," O'Neill said. He shook his head. "Carter?"
The colonel looked at her hands. "I don't know, sir. Yes, it's protection, but — I don't like the risks."
"Holmes?"
The Marine didn't answer for a long moment, rubbing his impeccably shaved chin. "If we had more time — I'm with the Colonel, General. I don't think it's worth it."
"I agree," O'Neill said. "Sorry, Dr. Keller. It's too late to try it now."
"At least let me make it available to civilian personnel," Keller said. "The side effects don't matter so much there."
"Except for critical personnel," O'Neill answered. "But that's Mr. Woolsey's call."
Woolsey shot him a look that should have melted steel. "I'm afraid I have to agree with General O'Neill. I don't think we can risk losing key personnel to side effects at this point. I am certainly willing to let you make the shot available to others, but I will personally recommend against taking it."
"All right, then," Keller said. She pressed her lips together, but said nothing more. A year ago, she would have argued, John thought. Two years ago, she wouldn't have tried to push it through at all.
Woolsey glanced at his notes. "Next — Dr. Zelenka, if you'd give us an update on Queen Death's fleet."
"Yes, of course," Zelenka answered.
John tuned him out and reached for his last donut. He'd looked at the scanners before he'd come to the briefing, and he didn't need to hear the details again. Queen Death was on her way, the fleet getting closer every hour. They'd be within range in a little more than eighteen hours, with half a dozen hives and an equal number of cruisers and support craft: no matter how you sliced it, it wasn't good.
Maybe they did need the retrovirus to give them the advantage — except that if it went wrong, they'd have put their own side out of action, worse than shooting yourself in the foot. Once this was all over, well, with a bit of luck there'd be a chance to test it properly, and then…. Would he want to take it? He didn't know. On the one hand, to know that he wasn't going to die like so many of his men — that he was never going to end up like Sumner, withered to a skeleton. He remembered all too clearly what it had felt like when Todd stole his life, left him gasping like a stranded fish. The shock of life returned was almost as bad, a tangle of fear and anger and gratitude, and a rush of strength and vitality that left him almost weeping with relief. Yeah, maybe he'd do it, so he never had to feel that again. Though if the Wraith could never kill you…. He suppressed a shudder, the picture all too clear. You could hang in a feeding cell forever, death an unattainable mercy.
Zelenka had stopped speaking, and John looked up quickly, hoping he hadn't missed anything important.
"Ok," O'Neill said. "There are a lot more of them than I'd like, and they're closer than I wish. So what else is new?"
It was probably a joke, John thought, but not many people were smiling.
"There is some good news on that front," Woolsey said. "As of 0400 this morning, Major Lorne reported the Pride of the Genii on course with an anticipated arrival time of 1800 hours. That puts them here several hours ahead of the Wraith."
Yeah, assuming they really were going to cooperate, John thought. Though Radim wasn't stupid enough to think that he could stand up against Queen Death without Atlantis's help.
"Any word from Todd's fleet?" Carter asked.
"Unfortunately, no." Woolsey's mouth thinned. "And as — I assume — we are still unable to meet his conditions…." His voice trailed off.
"Sheppard?" O'Neill asked.
John spread his hands. "No luck so far. We're still working on it."
"Keep me posted."
"Yes, sir." John refrained from adding that he'd be getting more done if he wasn't in this meeting, particularly since half the people here were the ones who'd been looking for the weapon. Ronon will find it, he told himself. If anyone can come up with that needle in this haystack, it's Ronon.
"Colonel Carter," O'Neill said. "What's the Hammond's status?"
"Thanks to Dr. Zelenka's team overnight and Dr. Lee this morning, we're in pretty good shape," Carter answered. "We're at ninety percent of optimum right now, and Dr. Lee tells me he can get us to ninety-five percent by tonight."
"Nice," O'Neill said, and there was an appreciative murmur around the table. "Colonel Sheppard, what about the city itself?"
John collected himself. "With the evacuations proceeding, we'll be down to essential personnel, plus Major Holmes's teams. We'll have enough people to defend the central spire, though we'll want to evacuate the outlying areas once the shooting starts." He could see the look in O'Neill's eye, and forestalled the question. "We'd need a couple hundred men to defend that perimeter. But we can hold the center."