STARGATE ATLANTIS: Dead End (27 page)

As they went, the noise of the machinery grew weaker and the deathly silence of the underworld returned. Teyla started to speak to Miruva — anything to break the unearthly quiet — but was interrupted by muffled cries of distress from far ahead.

She looked at Miruva, startled. It sounded like human voices raised in anger and fear.

“I hear it too,” said Miruva.

They started to run. Teyla held the flashlight low as she went, trying as best she could to pick out the perilous shards of rock barring their way. Her heart began to race. Who could be down here, so far from the habitable areas? Was it Sheppard? If so, that meant there was a route to the surface…

The tunnel took a sharp bend to the right. Miruva and Teyla tore round it, and stumbled into a scene of bedlam. There were fur-clad figures cowering against the stone. Some had covered their faces; others were trying to scramble back the way they had come. The reason for their panic was obvious. Banshees were hovering, staring at the humans with their baleful eyes. Despite knowing what she did about the Avatars, Teyla felt the fear rise in her too.

“Enough!” Miruva made a dismissive gesture with her hands and, almost instantly, the Banshees rippled out of existence. The chamber sunk back into darkness, lit only by Teyla’s flashlight and the stubs of a few candles.

“They were confused,” said Miruva to Teyla, almost by way of apology. “Their programming is corrupted. They can’t help it.”

Teyla nodded, still feeling the after-effects of her receding fear. Whatever the bug was, it really needed to be ironed-out.

Shakily, the men in the room began to get to their feet. One of them came forward, his face pasty and haggard.

“Orand!” cried Miruva, and threw herself at him, embracing him fervently.

“Miruva!” Orand exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You should be at the settlement.”

“It is a long story,” said Teyla.

A huge shadowy figure loomed over Orand’s shoulder. Teyla flicked the torch up, illuminating Ronon’s shaggy face. She burst into a smile.

“Ronon!” she cried. “I am
very
glad to see you.”

The Satedan looked too weary to smile back. “Me too,” he said, gruffly. “How d’you get rid of those things?”

“I’ll fill you in when there’s time,” said Miruva. “Right now, we need to know how you got down here. We need a route back to the surface.”

Orand’s face fell. “This isn’t the way out? There’s no exit back there. Just tunnels. Miles of them.”

Teyla felt the relief at meeting the hunters begin to fade. If the tunnel led to a dead end, then her hopes of reaching Sheppard were close to disappearing.

“There must be,” she insisted. “We should press on. Perhaps there is an exit that you missed in the dark.”

Miruva put her hand on Teyla’s arm. “Teyla, these men are exhausted. We don’t have the supplies for a long trek under the ice.”

Teyla felt a stab of frustration. The longer they delayed, the less likely it was any of them would ever leave Khost. Frantically, she searched for a reason to keep going.

Deep down, though, she knew that Miruva was right. The hunters needed to rest, and Sanctuary was the best place for them. For the time being, they would have to withdraw. The escape attempt would have to wait until they had gathered their strength.

“Very well,” she said. “We will go back to the inhabited areas.”

She looked back at Ronon. “There is much that has been hidden here,” she said. “And you will not believe what we have found.”

Sheppard looked down at the newly-exposed tunnel. He had to suppress a whoop of triumph. Helmar had been as good as his word, and the miners had smashed their way further than he would have thought possible.

Breathing heavily from his exertions, he joined the others as they scrambled down the loose stone. He had little idea how far they’d gone, but it must have been many meters. The light from the aperture above was now almost useless, and the miners lit fresh torches.

“That it?” he asked, looking at the bare rock below him.

“It is,” said Helmar, looking proud. “There’s a hollow space under us, or I’m a buffalo’s
hrnmar
.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” said Sheppard. “Whatever ‘that’ is.”

“How are your arms? Have you got strength for more work?”

Sheppard felt his biceps ache as he flexed them. He hadn’t been this strung out for a long, long time. “You
promise
we’re nearly there?”

Helmar grinned. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Sheppard.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Sheppard. “Then let’s go. Final push.”

Together with the hunters around him, he began to hack at the stone. The sound of rock chipping and ice shattering filled the narrow space. The axes hammered down again and again, aimed with precision. The Forgotten knew what they were doing. First one crack appeared, then another. They widened, attacked relentlessly by the miners.

“Back!” cried Helmar suddenly. The nearest miners sprung away from the crumbling rock floor. There was the sound of falling debris under them.

Helmar turned to Sheppard, his eyes alive with triumph.

“It’s giving way!” he said. “We’re breaking through!”

The hunting party gathered itself together and the group limped back through the tunnels towards Sanctuary. As they passed the massive chamber of machinery, it was all the hunters could do not to stumble into the chasm. None of them seemed much interested in the machines below; they were on their last legs.

They picked up the pace slightly as the light increased. In the distance, Teyla could see the bright lights of the Banshee’s control room and suddenly realized how weary she was herself. A rest, some warmth, and some food would do all of them good. Only then would they be in any state to reconsider how they were going to get out.

Suddenly, there was the sound of grinding rock above them. Teyla stopped walking, her senses alert. “What’s that?” she hissed. “Banshees?”

The sound got louder, a terrible renting and grinding. “There are no Banshees activated,” said Miruva, looking at the rock roof with alarm. “Must be a tremor. Run!”

She broke into a jog. Behind her, the hunters staggered forward; it was all they could do to stay on their feet. Lines of rock-dust began to stream down from the ceiling. The sound of breaking rock grew until the entire corridor echoed with it.

“Keep going!” yelled Teyla, pushing the fatigued hunters onwards, letting herself slip to the rear of the group. “The tunnel is collapsing!”

The noise reached a painful crescendo. The very stone was being tortured, and now rocks the size of fists were falling from the roof. Teyla pushed the last of the hunters in front of her and the man stumbled into a staggering run. From further down the tunnel, the thump of falling earth echoed. It was as if the world was being reshaped around her.

Teyla sprung forward, seeing the light of the Banshee control room entrance tantalizingly close. Her shoulders were showered with debris, and the sound of scraping, breaking rock hammered in her ears.

She was just a few dozen feet away when the stone hit her. She crumpled to the ground. Her hand shakily touched her forehead, and hot blood ran over her fingers. She looked up, seeing the ceiling above her crack and splinter.

“Must keep going…” she murmured, but knew she was losing consciousness.

The world lurched. It felt as if she was spinning into the void. Teyla pulled herself up to her elbows with difficulty, but then the rocks began falling in earnest. A shard shattered across her neck, and she fell back down to earth. The corridor tilted on its axis. The flashlight beam guttered and went out. Somewhere, dimly, she heard someone calling her name. But a glut of nausea was rising in her throat, her vision closing in, and then she knew no more.

With
a final shiver of defeat, the rock floor caved in. A huge plume of dust and debris flew up into the cramped workings, and Sheppard had to turn his face away.

After it subsided, the miners began to drop into the gap. Their torches unveiled a deep well carved into the stone. On either side of the well, there were two gaping holes, only partly choked by the rubble. They’d broken into some kind of tunnel. Even in the flickering light Sheppard could see that it was man-made.

Relief flooded over him. They’d made it.

He took out the proximity meter. It was going crazy. There were signals all around him, and not just those of Helmar and his men.

“C’mon!” he cried. “They’ll be down here somewhere.”

He started to clamber down into the gap. As he went, the torches threw long, snaking shadows across the cracked rock. The floor of the tunnel was becoming visible. There was more light, bleeding up from somewhere deeper down, and he began to make sense of the chaos around him.

Sheppard froze. He felt his heart beating powerfully in his chest. Beneath him, where the newly opened tunnel snaked downwards, there was a body lying in the rubble on the floor. It looked horribly familiar.

“Helmar!” he cried, hurrying towards it. “I’m gonna need some help here.”

Within seconds, other miners bearing torches had scrambled over to his position. They were still calling to one another with triumph as they came. All Sheppard could feel was the sick sensation in his stomach. As the miners caught sight of the body, they fell quiet.

Teyla lay slumped across a collapsed section of stone. She was out cold, and there was an ugly cut on her forehead.

He crouched down, feeling for a pulse. It was there, thank God. Not strong, but she was alive. Helmar dropped down beside him.

“Will she be well?” he asked, his voice full of concern. Sheppard wished he had Dr Beckett around to answer that. Teyla looked like she’d taken a battering when the miners had broken through. “You got any healers with you?”

“We’ll do what we can.”

“Quickly!”

Helmar disappeared. Working carefully, the other miners began to clear the stone from around her. They took care not to move her. Sheppard stayed crouched by her side.

He felt impotent, and angry. All of a sudden he regretted his desire for a speedy resolution to the mission. The gathering storm on the surface had unsettled him. McKay clearly thought his plan was crazy. The fact that the miners had managed to break through the layers of rock to the hidden tunnels beneath should have been Sheppard’s vindication. As it was, looking down at Teyla lying prone on the rock floor, he wondered if the price for his daring had been far too high.

A surge of warmth moved through McKay’s body, bathing him in pleasure. Of course, he wasn’t
actually
warm. He hadn’t been anything other than freezing ever since they’d landed on Khost. The heat was metaphorical: the glow of success, the sustaining balm of genius. He had done it.

At last, the Jumper was good to go. It almost looked normal, though a genuine pilot would have balked at the bolted-together equipment lining the walls of the rear bay. Zelenka’s gadget had finally been constructed, more or less as intended. There were a few modifications, of course. Some were due to there not being enough parts in the Jumper; some were enhancements supplied by McKay’s own ingenuity. Rodney found himself looking forward to explaining the weaknesses in the Zelenka’s schematics in person. Now that the Jumper could fly again, the chances of him being able to do that had significantly increased.

The Stargate had been something else. Working in the cold, on his own, in the failing light and without access to any routine diagnostic instruments had nearly killed him. There had been moments out on the ice with the wind biting hard and his fingers frozen to the bone when he’d almost given up. No matter what he tried, there was no way of coaxing enough power to kick it into life. All he needed was enough to hold open the gate for a centisecond or two, but even that was far beyond him. Once within the wormhole, Zelenka’s machine would kick in and the experimental Ancient tech would do the rest. The waiting was too frustrating for words.

Of course, even if the power could be found, getting home relied on an entirely unproven hypotheses about wormhole physics — and a good degree of faith that his makeshift power array would stand up to the strain. Not to mention an absolute conviction that Sheppard would be able to pilot the vessel at the optimum speed, at the correct angle, and would switch to the Zelenka-inspired grid at just the right moment.

But that was all fine. Hardly a day went by on Atlantis without some kind of impossible odds to conquer, and at least they were back in the game now. The important thing was that he
believed
it was going to work. Though the source eluded him for the moment, he was sure something could be done about the power shortfall. When it came to technology, that was really all that was important. He never got it wrong.

Or at least, he seldom did. Which was almost as good. But now it was well into the night, and there was nothing more he could do. With a shudder, he looked over at the rear bay doors. It would be a cold walk back to the settlement.

The tunnel was gradually cleared of rubble and the breach in the roof secured. As they had done throughout, the miners worked tirelessly and skillfully. More torches were brought down and placed against the walls of the corridor.

Sheppard hardly took any of it in. He’d remained by Teyla’s side. He barely noticed Helmar return.

“We’ve sent some men down into the complex beyond,” the hunter said. “It’s just as you thought. There’s room there for everyone. There are others further down. I’ve sent for a healer.”

Sheppard looked up, hearing what the man said but barely taking it in.

“Who’s down there?” he asked

“Miruva, and she’s explained what’s going on,” he said. “There’s power, and light, and air. All those taken by the Banshees are here. Orand is too. And your friend, the big man.”