One of them darted forward and struck at John’s pack, which he had been towing along beside him as he swam. The pack jerked out of John’s hands and disappeared under the surface of the water. “Hey. Hey!” John called indignantly.
“Better your pack than yourself,” Teyla said. Several more of the creatures were now diving toward the submerged pack, and after a moment items that Daniel recognized as Air Force issue began floating to the surface.
“I notice they didn’t take your pack,” John said.
“Yes, that is fortunate,” Teyla said, ignoring his sour tone. Daniel had a clear path now to the bank, and swam hard for it, hauling himself up into the shallow water and slogging through the mud toward the bank. The rest of the team was in shallow water as well, Ronon shaking out his hair and Rodney churning the water in his eagerness to reach the bank.
“We have penguins on Earth,” Rodney said. “They’re just not terrifying.”
“Then these aren’t penguins,” Ronon said.
“Close enough.”
Teyla looked at Daniel in concern as he dragged himself up the bank and well clear of the water, his leg aching with every step. “Are you hurt?”
“That would be a yes,” he said, and sat down heavily. In the river, the birds were still fighting over the remains of John’s pack. Two of them had found an MRE, and appeared to be trying to consume it packaging and all.
Daniel rolled up the remainder of his pants leg and let her bandage the deep scratch neatly. Ronon had a long scrape down his arm, but didn’t seem to consider it worth paying attention to at the moment.
“I’m thinking we get out of sight of the river, and then wait it out for a while,” John said. “If you’re hanging in there, Dr. Jackson.”
“Daniel,” he said. “And, yeah, I don’t think I’m currently heavily bleeding, so that’s probably a good idea.”
They stomped some distance away from the river, until they could no longer hear the sounds of splashing or see the water through the bushes.
“We should camp reasonably close to the river in case there’s another fire,” John said. The grass here wasn’t burned, although the wind was carrying the smell of smoke.
“But not close enough for the giant penguins to eat us,” Rodney said.
“Yes, not that close, McKay.”
“Are we going to make camp?” Ronon said. “We aren’t that far down river.”
“It’s probably not a bad idea,” Daniel said. “I’m guessing our friends back there are the ones who originally set the fire—”
“Nice of them,” Ronon said.
“They are hunters,” Teyla said.
“Burning the grass to drive game into their nets,” Daniel agreed. “Only we got in the way. I don’t know if we pissed them off, or if they just figured we’d be good eating, but either way, the more time we give them to take their catch and clear out, the better.”
“In about ten hours they’ll dial the gate to check up on us,” John said. “If we haven’t made it back to the site by then, I’ll tell Lorne to come give us a ride.”
They made camp where the bushes thinned out into dry grass. It would have been comfortable if their gear hadn’t been soaking wet, and if they had dared to heat up any of their food; as it was, it was tolerable. Daniel ate his cold dinner and leaned back against his backpack, looking up at the darkening sky.
He could almost hear Jack saying are we having fun yet, kids?
“You know, archaeology doesn’t have to be like this,” he said conversationally to the first stars, now hazily visible against the deepening blue.
“Welcome back to Pegasus,” John said.
The grandmother hugged Elizabeth one last time. “I hope you find your people,” she said.
“I hope so too.” Elizabeth hugged her back, tears stinging her eyes unexpectedly. Truly she had been taken in by these people, treated as one of their own when she had nothing to offer, a rare and extraordinary kindness.
The grandmother dropped her voice. “Not all of the Travelers are good people, and they’re sharp traders. But our Ring is in orbit. If they will take you to a gate in their travels, you can dial Sateda. You remember the address I gave you?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I do. And thank you.”
The last people were filing in amid goodbyes, the ship’s ramp still extended though everything had been packed away and the Mazatla were moving back to a safe distance. Elizabeth waved once more to Kyan and his father, then hurried aboard.
“This way,” Atelia said, leading her through a maze of improvised passages and ductwork. “Just stay out of the way during the lift, and we can talk when we’re in hyperspace. Here you go. This one’s yours.” She stopped in a narrow section of hallway. There were four bunks built into the walls, two on each side, with a thin foam mattress on each and a plastic curtain. One was drawn back to show the niche was empty except for the safety belts that would allow someone to strap in.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. She only had a small bundle, a change of clothes given her by the Mazatla, and she clipped it to one of the straps within.
“I’d advise you to strap in for lift,” Atelia said quickly. “It can be rough. And sometimes the grav generators don’t work right.”
“I’ll be careful,” Elizabeth said. She settled back into the bunk as Atelia hurried away, her head pillowed on her bundle as she fastened the seatbelts and drew the curtain. The yellow light fixture blinked, probably warning takeoff, as a slow rumble began somewhere beneath her. The ship’s main engines were coming online.
A scratchy voice came over an intercom. “Getting ready for power up. Everybody strap in. Don’t unstrap until I give the word.”
That was straightforward enough, Elizabeth thought. The roar and vibration grew. Should she be frightened? Wouldn’t someone planet-bound usually be? And yet she wasn’t, not really. Had she traveled on a space ship before? If so, when? Where those memories should be was nothing but blankness. Elizabeth closed her eyes as the vibration turned to shaking, presumably the actual lift in progress. Why couldn’t she remember? What had happened to her? Surely it was there somewhere, like these tantalizing flashes that came at odd moments, scenes of a life interrupted. There must be a way to find it.
She flexed her hands, willing her fingers to relax, stretching them against the leg of her pants. Relax. Deep breaths. Perhaps if she could relax, control her breathing, let the tension flow out, she would find her way. Relax.
The vibration was less now, a soothing sort of motion rather than shaking. Relax. Her eyes closed, her breath coming quietly. Around her, the shipboard noises were comforting rather than distracting, the sounds of machines and people going about their business, distanced by the curtain across her bunk.
Like a dormitory, she thought. Like a dormitory…
The light awakened her, bright through the curtainless window. It was open, and the warmth of an August morning blew in through the leaves of the old tree outside, the voices of students coming up from the walk below, the traffic sounds a distant blur. The breeze smelled of the river and sunshine.
Elizabeth opened her eyes. The other bed was empty, peach comforter pulled up, the clip light on the metal bed frame turned off. Her roommate had already left.
She sat up, pushing back the covers and taking a deep breath. Her blue and white rug covered the scuffed hardwood floor. Her plastic bins were stacked beside the dresser, her boombox plugged in beside the mirror, her suitcase unzipped on the dresser top where she’d gotten her pajamas out the night before. The digital clock said it was seven thirty.
Seven thirty of the first day. Her heart leaped. The first day, her first day of a new life, her first day on her own. Her first day, and these moments alone to savor it in her own place before she went in search of breakfast and the ten o’clock advisor meeting. The first day.