"Every day is a beautiful spring day," Beckett said with satisfaction. "For the Outer Hebrides."
"It's not that cold!" Zelenka said. "For the thousandth time!"
"It's not snowing," Rodney said. "That's an improvement. Now, when can I get back to work?"
"Today," Woolsey said. He held up one finger. "But! Dr. Zelenka is still Chief of Sciences. The IOA still has doubts."
"What would it take to prove to the IOA that I'm fine?" Rodney expostulated. "Me being dead?"
"Possibly," Woolsey said. "But let's not try it, shall we? They do take a dim view of having been previously dead."
"Of all the…."
Zelenka shook his head. "And if we are all done here except for Rodney flailing, I am going to bed. I have not seen my own room in two days, and I am finished."
"Yes, of course," Woolsey said. He should have noticed that Zelenka had been going nonstop since before the city took off. It was his job to notice. "Go on, Doctor. I think we're through."
"I'm going to get some work done," Rodney said with satisfaction, following Zelenka out.
"Be careful of your arm!" Beckett called after him. "I said to be gentle with it!" The door closed behind Rodney. Beckett shook his head, turning around. "Are you all right?"
"Of course," Woolsey said.
"The IOA," Beckett replied. "They can't be happy, can they?"
Woolsey sighed. "No. They never are. But if they do relieve me, I will know I've done the best I possibly could. And it's worth the price."
"Aye," Beckett said, glancing around at the control room bathed in morning sunshine through the great windows. "Atlantis is worth the price." He picked up his laptop. "And now it's back to the infirmary. Good day, Mr. Woolsey."
"Thank you, Dr. Beckett."
The door closed, and Woolsey looked around his quiet office. Nice and quiet. With no crisis at the moment. He had a pile of paperwork to catch up on. He was certainly going to enjoy that. Dick Woolsey looked around once more, taking in the busy duty crew outside, the gate waiting quiet and watchful, the stained glass patterns across the floor. Yes indeed. He was certainly going to enjoy catching up on his paperwork.
Radek made his way up from the transport chamber in the golden morning light. Food. Shower. Bed. The day could not possibly improve. The labs had suffered no major damage in the battle, though some of the experiments had been disrupted and would have to be restarted; Rodney's cat had apparently eaten more than the pot of catnip someone had collected on M5W-2842, but suffered no more ill effects than producing a massive hairball overnight, deposited conveniently on a stack of pending paperwork. In the background, he could hear Rodney retelling the story, complete with sound effects, and quickened his step, not wanting to have to hear it again.
"Radek!"
He turned, to see William Lynn beckoning from one of the smaller conference rooms. "Yes?"
It wasn't just William, he saw; Dr. Jackson was there, and Ember, looking sleek and entirely recovered. The Wraith bowed in greeting, and Radek nodded, not sure what to say. They hadn't really spoken since the jumper, and Radek doubted there was any point of etiquette that would smooth the awkwardness. Jackson, however, seemed oblivious to the possibilities.
"What is McKay on about?"
"His cat," William said, before Radek could answer. "Sorry, I already heard the story twice."
"What about his cat?" Jackson looked from one to the other. "Why is there a cat on Atlantis?"
"That is a question better not asked," Radek said, and to his surprise Jackson grinned.
"Right. McKay's involved. Never mind." Jackson stuck his head out the door. "All clear. Dr. Lynn, thanks for your help — and yours, Ember — and I'll definitely take that up with General O'Neill when I see him."
The door slid shut behind him, and Ember tilted his head to one side. "Quicksilver — Dr. McKay — seems to produce that reaction."
"He is a difficult man," Radek said, and stopped. "And also brilliant, though you need not say I said so."
"Believe me, I would not," Ember answered. "That one knows his worth all too well."
"But he backs it up," Radek said.
Ember nodded. "Otherwise — you are his second, yes? As I was on Death's hive. Otherwise someone would have murdered him long ago."
"He was like that when he was a Wraith?" Radek waved the words away. "No, no, why should he be different?"
"I wondered how he had lived so long," Ember said, baring teeth. "Even being that good. You have my sympathy."
"As do you." Radek smiled back.
William cleared his throat. "Look, I don't want to interrupt, but Guide asked me to be sure to get you back to Alabaster's ship before she leaves —"
"Yes," Ember said, but made no move to follow. "There is, however, a thing I have to say before I go. This — what you did, to give me of your life, that is the mark of brothers, and I hold it no less so between us. I name you brother, if you will have me, and my life is yours to claim."
Radek saw William's eyebrows rise, and didn't know what to say himself. He'd never expected, never wanted, and yet — "I'm honored," he said, and realized that he meant it. He held out his hand, and Ember clasped it, awkwardly, the heavy claws scraping across Radek's skin. "Besides, you already saved my life."
"Well," William said, after Ember walked away. "Brother to Wraith."
Radek spread his hands. "And I was to say no to that?"
"One more reason to stay on Atlantis. My good friend Radek is 'brother' to a Wraith cleverman." William smiled. "It's wonderful for research."
"I didn't think you were planning to stay," Radek said, and William shrugged.
"One may change one's mind."
"Yes," Radek answered. "Yes, indeed."
The wormhole to Sateda had just opened, late that afternoon, when Mel Hocken came hurrying into the gate room, coming up to join Ronon.
"I thought you were in the infirmary," he said.
"I was," she said. "But it was just a little concussion. I hit my head on the canopy, but my head is pretty hard. Besides, what's a little concussion?" Mel gave him an impish grin, turning to face the wormhole. "I wanted to come along," she said. "Mr. Woolsey said it was fine."
They stepped through into warm sun and the smell of food cooking, smoke rising from chimneys and cooking fires around the square. More of the rubble had been cleared away since the last time he'd been there, and above the broad doors of what had once been a train depot hung the banners of the Satedan Band. Cai must have been able to persuade them to post at least a token force here, to discourage any more raiding.
"They've been busy," Hocken said.
"Looks like it," Ronon said. He made his way across the square to the old hotel that Ushan Cai had made the headquarters of his provisional government. "I've got to talk to Cai about some things," he said.
"So do I, actually," Hocken said. "I'll come in and wait."
He shrugged and pushed open the doors. The lobby of the old hotel was still dimly lit by lamplight, but through the doors into what had been the bar, he could see that the glass was back in two of the windows that opened onto the square, a patchwork of irregular pieces heavily leaded to fit where once there had been perfect squares.
Cai was talking to two women, a map spread out between them, but he raised a hand to Ronon in greeting, and Ronon nodded. He waited until they were done, Hocken turning to look out the window with the easy stance of someone used to waiting at attention.
"Ronon," Cai said finally, as the women went out. "And Colonel Hocken. It's good to see you. We've been hoping for news from Atlantis."
"Queen Death is dead," Ronon said. "Her alliance has fallen apart. I wanted you to know."
"I'll drink to that." He poured drinks for them, not the strong liquor that had survived Sateda's fall but a dark beer. "Courtesy of the Genii," Cai said, tapping his own mug. "We're brewing our own, but the first new ale won't be ready for another week yet. Or so I'm told."