STARGATE ATLANTIS: Dead End (30 page)

Teyla raised her head, ignoring the pain. She was lying in her hut, down in the fertile plain. All around was tranquil and quiet. The light from outside was warm and soft. Inside the darkness of the small chamber, a single figure sat, waiting for her to recover.

“Miruva?” said Teyla.

“No,” came a man’s voice. “She has gone out to the surface to bring the others back. More of your friends are here. They are restoring the tunnel to the outside.”

The voice was familiar. Teyla felt a sudden tremor of alarm. “Geran?” she said. “Why are you here? My friends…”

“The one you call Ronon is securing the breach. The others have left for the settlement.” Geran’s voice was subdued. The certainty he’d displayed in the past had disappeared.

Teyla pushed herself upright. She had no idea how much time had passed, but she’d seen the holographic weather projection in the control room. If they weren’t off the planet soon, then they might never escape. “How long have I been asleep?”

Geran shrugged. “Hours. You were taken here when Miruva left.”

“Then I ask you again,” she said, her voice hard. “Why are
you
here?”

Geran had the decency to look ashamed. “To make amends,” he said. “I was wrong. Even I cannot believe the stories about the Underworld now. I wanted to come and say that to you as soon as I could. I am sorry.”

Teyla didn’t find the words of much comfort. “You
should
be sorry, Geran,” she said. “Your actions delayed me. I do not yet know what that has cost.” She started to get up. Her head throbbed and her vision was cloudy, but she could keep her feet.

“You must rest! Ronon asked me make sure you were cared for.”

“Ironic, that he chose you,” she said. “My friends will need me. You have no idea what is happening.”

“There is no hurry,” protested Geran.

“Maybe not for you.” Teyla pushed past him, still woozy, out of the hut and into the artificial light of Sanctuary. “You can muse on your mistakes later,” she said. “I am going to find Ronon. Much as I might envy your life in this place, I do not wish to share it.”

Sheppard shielded his eyes against the worst of the driving snowfall. In the distance, far down the long column of trudging people, he could half hear the cries of children. It was hard to make out anything beyond a few dozen meters. His fingers were numb, and his eyebrows were already crusted with ice.

One of the Forgotten loomed towards him out of the swirling haze. It was Miruva.

“This is pretty bad!” yelled Sheppard, his words snatched away by the tearing wind. “We should be there by now.”

Miruva shook her head. Covered with furs as she was, the movement was slightly comical.

“We must be close!” she shouted back. “Some of the old folk are nearly frozen. We must find a way to pick up the pace.”

Sheppard winced. His legs already felt as heavy and unresponsive as iron. The trek to the settlement and back had taken it out of him. The way was short, but the environment was murderous. What was worse, he knew that he had a third journey ahead once the Forgotten were safely stowed in Sanctuary. He felt like he had been criss-crossing the surface of Khost for days.

“OK!” he shouted, and began to move down the column, exhorting a final push from the struggling lines of people.

Miruva passed in the other direction, towards the vanguard, making sure that none got separated in the white-out and that the column retained as much cohesion as possible.

The wind remained fierce. The snow piled up around them in thick swathes, and it soon became impossible to have any idea about footing. Many of the Forgotten stumbled. Sheppard and the other able-bodied members of the exodus were soon employed full-time in keeping the stragglers on their feet, keeping them moving, preventing the seductive collapse into the inviting banks of powder snow. Despite their long exposure to Khost’s harsh environment, some of the older folk were beginning to show the first signs of hypothermia, and Sheppard had become very worried about the smallest of the children. When not being carried by their exhausted parents, some of them had to wade at nearly waist-height through the snow to make any progress at all.

Then, suddenly, the breach became visible. Looming out of the driving snowfall, dark shapes became gradually apparent. A perimeter had been constructed around the opening. Some of it had collapsed in the howling wind, but enough remained to prevent them blundering blindly down into the workings.

“Bingo!” shouted Sheppard, trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. “Keep going! The worst is over.”

As if angered by their imminent escape, the storm threw one last desperate flurry at them. Sheppard felt the blast barrel into him as he turned to lift a child from the snow, and he stumbled badly. The heavy furs hindered him, and he sprawled face-down on the ground. The heavy snow cushioned his fall, but the wind was momentarily knocked from him. He staggered back to his feet, vision swimming. There were others staggering in the gale. They had reached the Sanctuary only just in time.

As they began to descend into the breach, fur-wrapped figures from below emerged to help them down the shaky ladders and into safety. Sheppard found himself yearning for the warmth of the tunnels, and would have given almost anything to get out of the frigid wind, but there were those weaker than him who still needed help. As he staggered over to a huddled group of older people, shuffling along painfully in the howling maelstrom, several tall figures surrounded him.

“How’s it going, Colonel?” came a cheerful voice. It was Orand.

Sheppard’s smile was more of a grimace. “I’ve had better days.”

McKay pushed against the Stargate; it was a futile gesture. There was nothing he could do to right it again. It had sunk over a meter into the cracked ice, and leaned at a sharp angle. The ZPM was still connected, but only just. Rodney stood back, squinting up at the curve of the ring. Could they get the Jumper through it? Maybe. But it’d be close. Very close.

But where were Sheppard and the others? If John had been right about how close this Sanctuary was, then he should have been back by now.

McKay had a sudden bad feeling. He should be at the Jumper controls. If they’d sent a message, he’d have missed it.

Breaking into a halting run, he began to hurry back to the Jumper. He was making poor decisions. He was tired, cold, and worried. The best thing he could do now was stay in the Jumper and wait. The Stargate would have to look after itself.

As he went, he heard a familiar cracking noise behind him. He speeded up, working his legs as fast as they’d go, plunging through the snow. Ending up in a crevasse would make a bad situation even worse.

The cracking stopped and McKay risked a glance over his shoulder. The gate was still there, but it looked like the top of the circle was swaying in the wind. Fresh lines of broken ice radiated from the buried base.

“C’mon, John!” McKay hissed to himself. “Get back here.”

“Did you secure the breach?” asked Sheppard, brushing the snow from his furs. He limped down the tunnel beside Orand.

“As well as we could,” Orand replied. “We’ll get these folk down as soon as we can. Some of them are in a bad way. Talking of which, you’d better get down below too. What have you been doing, swimming in snow?”

Sheppard let slip a rueful smile. “Yeah, kinda.”

Above them, the column filed down into the opening in an orderly fashion, herded by Orand’s team. As he watched them, Sheppard felt an overwhelming relief. Against all the odds, they had done it. The Forgotten would be safe. Whatever else happened to them on this mission, at least they’d done that; they’d saved a whole people.

Seeing that the hunters had everything in hand, he turned with some relief to the descent into Sanctuary. The steep way had been made easier with ladders and handrails and even the frailest of the Forgotten ought to be able to make the journey with help. Taking his place in the line, Sheppard joined the mass of bodies waiting to get into the warmth of the lower levels. As he went further down into the sheltering rock, the wind above gave a last, defiant howl, then guttered out.

Teyla limped across the Hall of Arrivals. It was not as dark as it had been, for the Forgotten had been busy placing braziers along the route up from the valley and into the control chambers. In time, the whole place would be illuminated. Though it would be a marvelous sight when completed, she heartily hoped she would not be there to witness it.

As she went, she saw reunited Forgotten celebrating. Some had already found there way down to the valley below, others lingered in the tunnels, helping newcomers down from the ice storm above. Not everyone celebrated. Some of the Forgotten in Sanctuary had discovered their loved ones had died on the surface, perhaps years ago. For every happy reunion, there were also isolated figures who lingered sadly in the shadows. Teyla’s heart went out to them; to suffer grief when all around were rejoicing was a hard burden to bear. And there was much adjusting to be done, on both sides. Many of the Forgotten in Sanctuary had honestly believed they were condemned to a twilight existence in the Underworld. To discover that they had been safely on Khost all the time, and that the route back to the surface had been opened again, required a profound shift in their beliefs. It would take time to become reconciled to the changes. Geran was proof of that; he had not come with her. He was one of those who needed time to adjust.

Teyla approached the control chambers where she and Miruva had discovered the Avatar and saw people coming and going without fear. It was quite a change. She was watching the celebrating Forgotten so intently that she hardly noticed the approach of the others. But then they were at her side, Sheppard and Ronon, looking as ragged around the edges as she felt herself.

“Hey, what are you doin’ up here?” said Sheppard, failing to disguise his concern. “We were coming to find you, and there were doctor’s orders.”

Teyla smiled. John’s anxiety was touching, but after several hours sleep in the warmth of the valley she thought she was probably in better shape than they were. Both men looked exhausted.

“I am much better,” she said, ignoring her persistent headache. “This place is good for healing. The Forgotten will find it so as well.”

“Well I’m glad to hear it. Right now, I need to take five.”

Sheppard slumped down on the floor against the wall, Teyla and Ronon either side of him. Around them, the Forgotten continued to come and go, all but oblivious to them. Cries of delight echoed down the corridors as long-sundered friends were reunited.

“Tell me what has happened,” said Teyla.

“It’s a real heartwarming story,” said Sheppard. “We’ve got the perfect storm up there, but these guys are safe.”

Ronon grunted. “Not looking forward to going back out there.”

“You and me both, but we don’t have a whole heap of options.” Sheppard closed his eyes, head back against the wall. He looked exhausted. “Besides, Rodney’s on his own and you know how much he enjoys that.”

Teyla’s brow furrowed with concern. Amid all the excitement at getting the Forgotten into Sanctuary, she had forgotten about Dr McKay. “He is not with you? The surface is no place to be on his own. Someone should have stayed with him.”

“Hey,
he’ll
be fine. The Jumper’s back up to full power. Anyhow, someone had to keep an eye on the Stargate. Let’s just say the ice beneath it isn’t entirely… reliable.”

“Sounds bad,” said Ronon.

“It is.”

“And we could’ve headed back hours ago…”

“Trust me, I heard it all from McKay.” Sheppard sighed. “Sometimes it sucks being the good guys.”

“You said it.”

“What is done is done,” Teyla said sharply. “Is the storm still blowing? Can we afford to wait it out?”

Sheppard shook his head. “Not unless you want to wait about nine thousand years.”

Before she could answer, Miruva and Orand approached, walking hand in hand. Beside them, Aralen hobbled, too proud to use a stick despite the arduous journey. His long-mourned wife supported him, and they leaned on one another closely. Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla rose to meet them.

“Teyla, you are well,” said Miruva. “That makes this day perfect. We cannot thank you enough. We would never have discovered it without you.”

“Oh, I dunno,” said Sheppard, putting a brave face on their own problems. “You’d have probably figured it out in time. We just gave you a little push.”

“But without that push we would all be dead,” Aralan said. All trace of bitterness had gone from his voice. “I see now that this is our future — and that it is clearly the will of the Ancestors.” He looked at his wife in affection and wonder. “We have all gained more than we could have hoped. I was wrong to judge you, Colonel Sheppard.”

“Aw, forget it,” said Sheppard, waving his hand dismissively. “If I’d been in your position, I’d have done the same. Can’t be a leader and let yourself get pushed around by a bunch of scruffy-looking travelers.”

Aralen smiled, though the expression was tinged with sadness. “A leader no more,” he said. “All things change.”

Without asking, Teyla knew who to address.
“Con-gratulations,” she said to Miruva, clasping her hand. “You will be a fine Foremost of your people.”

Miruva looked at Orand, and they both grinned. “Not just me,” she said, pride evident in her voice. “There is much for us to do, and all skills will be needed. When the route to the surface has been made safe, then we must start the work of exploring this place. Even with the gene, it will take us many years to uncover its mysteries.”

“What’ll you do about the tunnels?” said Ronon.

“We will preserve them,” said Orand. “We cannot allow ourselves to become trapped. We will explore them for new resources and one day, when the planet is restored, we will use them to return to the surface.”

“Good,” said Ronon. “Hate to think all that wandering around was for nothing. Gotta admit, I didn’t think we’d ever get out.”