"We don't have it," O'Neill said. "And believe me, that doesn't make us any happier than it does you."
"Forgive me if I doubt that," Guide snapped.
"It is not to our advantage to lose two of our best people," Woolsey said. "Not to mention an unknown number of others. Nor is it the policy of my government to wantonly murder its allies."
Guide's eyes slid to Sheppard at that, saw the hint of doubt in the younger man's eyes. "Perhaps you do not generally kill your allies," he said, "but our alliance is… tenuous at best."
"And not made any stronger by you not siding with us against Death," O'Neill said.
"And if you were in my place, would you throw your fleet into battle alongside 'allies' who hold a knife to your throat?" Guide shook his head. "Hyperion's weapon must be destroyed. That is not a matter for negotiation."
"But we don't have it," Sheppard said. His frustration was palpable, and for a moment Guide felt a shiver of doubt. If in fact the Lanteans weren't bluffing, if they'd somehow lost the weapon — but, no, they could not be that careless. This was just another attempt to get something for nothing.
"I'll be honest with you," O'Neill said. "Without your fleet, we don't stand much of a chance against Queen Death. I think we can get the city away safely, and maybe without getting the Hammond and the Genii shot up too badly, but we'll just have to do it again someplace else. And maybe you're thinking about that, thinking that maybe we'll soften up Queen Death enough that you can take her out by yourself. But I think if you thought you could get away with it, you wouldn't have bothered making a deal with us in the first place, weapon or no weapon. Which says to me that you're running one hell of a risk not helping us out here. And I really get the impression that the lady doesn't like you."
Guide grinned. "She does not, no. But I say again, Hyperion's weapon negates all other considerations. You say we cannot risk fighting Death alone. I say that it would be worse, far worse, to leave Hyperion's weapon intact and in your hands."
"If we were going to use it," Sheppard said, "we wouldn't be planning to fight Queen Death ourselves."
Guide rounded on him, deliberately moving at his full speed. "But you have lost the weapon, have you not? You have no choice but to fight."
To his credit, Sheppard didn't flinch. "Yes, we have lost it, and no, we don't have any choice. And, no, we're not going to use the damn thing!"
He believed it, Guide thought, his eyes flickering back to Woolsey and O'Neill. But the others…. They were bluffing, hoping to force his hand. And for the sake of his people — of all the Wraith — he could not give in. "I would do the same if I were you," he said, "and I will speak to my fleet. But I will not order them to move until I see Hyperion's weapon destroyed."
Chapter Sixteen
Atlantis Rising
There was a moment of quiet as they came up into the control room, a heartbeat's silence like an intake of breath. John knew exactly where it came from, the moment of panic they all still felt when an unfettered Wraith walked into range, even when that Wraith was technically an ally. The talk resumed, determinedly, technicians and airmen alike trying to pretend Guide wasn't there, half a hand's-breadth taller than either of the escorting Marines, and Guide bared teeth in something that might have been amusement.
"Well, John Sheppard," he said. "We come round the circle again."
"We've been here before, all right," John said, and Woolsey drew himself up to his full height.
"Er — Guide."
You could see it almost killed him not to have an honorific to tack onto the name, John thought.
"Your fleet has arrived, and their commander wishes to speak to you."
"I'm sure he does." Guide looked at him and then at O'Neill. "I ask you again, are you prepared to meet my terms?"
"Yes," Woolsey said. "It's to our advantage to do so. We just can't do it right now."
Guide shook his head, the long strands of his hair hissing against the leather of his coat. "Then there is no bargain. I would like to speak to my commander now."
"Be my guest," O'Neill said. The frustration in his voice was very clear.
"Banks," Woolsey said, and the dark-haired woman nodded.
"I have them on the screen, sir."
She nodded toward the larger of the communications displays, and John turned toward it as it lit, revealing Kenny's straggling hair and high forehead. The tattoo on his right cheek seemed very dark against his marbled skin.
"Commander. What are your orders?"
"To do nothing, for now." Guide looked back at O'Neill as if waiting for him to change his mind. "We will not engage just now."
"Very good, Commander."
Did Kenny look a little confused? John wondered. He hoped so — anything that would disrupt Guide's plans had to be good for them. Maybe.
"And now…." Guide looked down at Woolsey, clearly relishing the difference in their heights. "If we can come to no agreement, Mr. Woolsey, then I must return to my ship."
To his credit, Woolsey didn't step back, just lifted his chin a little to meet the Wraith's slit-eyed stare. "If you wish, of course —"
"But we're a little busy to be running a taxi service," O'Neill said.
"Now that," Guide said, "begins to sound like a threat. And that, surely, would be unwise."
"No threats," Woolsey said, with a minatory look at O'Neill. "And I'm sure we can arrange transport, as Ms. Emmagan will surely want to return to Atlantis. Her presence with your fleet is no longer required."
"Of course," Guide said. He looked back at the screen. "I will be returning to the hive, and Teyla Emmagan will be coming back to Atlantis. Inform the Young Queen."
"At once, Commander." Kenny bowed, and the picture disappeared.
John glanced at the sensor display, calculating times and distances. Half an hour out and back, a quick switch-over on the hive — yeah, the city could spare him that long. "With your permission, General, I'll take Guide across to the hive in a jumper, and bring Teyla back."
O'Neill lifted an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Woolsey nodded. "Thank you, Colonel."
John touched his radio. "Lieutenant Clark. I'd like a Marine escort in the jumper bay immediately."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant answered, and John looked at Guide.
"I just don't want you getting any ideas."
Guide showed teeth. "It is not I who needs help, John Sheppard."
It was not a long flight to the hive. Kenny had the Dart bay open for them, and John brought the puddlejumper neatly into the open space. In the viewscreen, he could see Teyla waiting, flanked by Alabaster and a handful of drones, and he pushed himself up out of the pilot's chair as the Marines lowered the tailgate.
"Guide."
The Wraith looked over his shoulder.
"You know neither one of us can beat Death alone."
Guide paused. "I know. And you know my price, John Sheppard."
He turned, coat swirling at his heels, and stalked down the ramp to join his daughter. Teyla moved at the same moment, and they passed without speaking. Teyla climbed into the jumper, and the nearest Marine hit the switch that closed the tail.
"We're clear, sir."
John was already back in the pilot's chair, the board lighting blue at his touch, and a moment later Teyla settled into the co-pilot's place. "Good to have you back," he said, without looking up, but he could almost feel her smile.
"It is good to be back," she said. "Though I think it would be well if we did not linger."
The Dart bay door was still open, and John brought the puddlejumper up and around in a single smooth curve. He braced himself for collision alarms, for closing doors and the crash of energy weapons, but nothing happened. They slid smoothly out into the night, and nothing pursued.