Teyla's shoulders began to unknot the moment she and John left the confines of the village. Until that moment, she had not truly appreciated how tense she was. She rolled her neck surreptitiously, grateful for the reprieve.
John cast her a sidelong glance. "You okay?"
She offered him a bright smile that was only partially forced. "Yes. Why do you ask?"
He shrugged. "You don't usually come with me to check in with Atlantis."
"Ah." For a moment they walked in silence, following the stone path leading back to the stargate. "I will admit," she said finally, "I was uncomfortable within the village. It seemed as though all of the council members were... nervous around me."
Judging from John's quizzical glance, he had not noticed the same. "What do you mean?"
"They kept giving me odd looks -- some fearful, others... I could not read. Many of the council, perhaps most, moved away from me when I stood beside them." She shook her head. "Taken individually, they would be small things, but together, they made me... uncomfortable."
John considered her words. "Everyone on the council was male," he pointed out. "Some kind of bias, maybe? Something in their culture against women being outside the kitchen and bedroom?"
"It is possible." They had certainly encountered such peoples before. Teyla compared her experiences on those worlds with the ones here and came to no definitive conclusion. "They did not speak against me," she said slowly, thinking aloud, "or try to dismiss me from the discussion."
"So... they respect cultural differences?" he hazarded. "They don't include their own women, but they don't try to make other people do the same thing?" His expression was uncertain.
Teyla felt the same. "Perhaps" was the strongest reply she could formulate.
John lapsed into silence for a number of steps. The lines of a frown creased his forehead. "You know... I didn't see any women on the streets when we got there, or when we came back through on our way out."
Her first thought was that if such a lack existed, naturally John Sheppard would notice. Her second thought was to consult her own memory. While she did not have quite his focus when it came to potentially eligible women, she did take note of her surroundings. She was startled to agree with his assessment. "Is it possible that they were there and simply blended in with the men? If they dressed similarly, and in loose clothing..."
John grimaced, his disbelief plain even as he conceded the possibility. "Maybe."
"No."
The voice did not belong to either of them.
A boy stepped out of the brush on the side of path. Teyla hid her surprise, inwardly chastising herself for letting her guard down. From John's bitten-off curse, she assumed that he had not known the boy was there, either. Had their ambusher been Wraith or Genii, the two of them would have been taken at a significant disadvantage.
Teyla accepted the lesson and set it aside in favor of focusing on the boy in front of them. He was no more than 14 summers old, she guessed. Slender but not unhealthy; dirty but not unkempt. His blue eyes were clear, the intensity in them one of purpose rather than madness. Whatever that purpose was, he did not seem to intend them harm -- he was unarmed and did not move in a threatening manner. Teyla had no doubts as to their ability to handle him if he chose to attempt an attack, but it was best that such an attempt was not made in the first place.
"Who are you?" John demanded, weapon lowered but at the ready.
"Tymas. I'm from the village you just left." He didn't give them time to ask a question; instead he charged ahead fiercely. "You were asking about the women." His intent gaze transferred to Teyla. "You're a woman."
Teyla could tell from the curve of John's mouth that he was restraining some comment, likely about stating the obvious. She permitted herself a small smile, nodding slightly. "I am." Her smile fell away. "Are there no women in your village?"
"There are." His grim expression was too old for his young face. "You wouldn't see them, though. No outsider does."
"Why not?"
"They are locked away. Always." He nearly snarled. "They -- the elders -- they say it's to protect the women. And to protect us from them."
Teyla and John shared a wary glance. "Why would you need to be protected from them?"
The boy shook his head violently. "The elders spread vicious stories, but they are lies! Pathetic, flimsy excuses to steal the women away and keep them like -- like pets at best, and cattle at worst! Their very minds are stolen away, so that they will do as they are told and never protest! See, see for yourself --"
He abruptly turned and dashed back into the undergrowth. Startled, for a moment all Teyla could do was stare after him. John was likewise taken by surprise. Just as she wondered if they were supposed to follow, and to wonder if that was at all a good idea, Tymas returned.
He did not return alone.
As he reemerged from the brush, he led by the hand a girl on the verge of womanhood. She was perhaps a year younger than Tymas, and like enough to him in features that Teyla suspected a familial relationship between them. Where the boy's blue eyes were clear and fierce, however, the girl's were...
Empty.
A chill crawled down Teyla's spine. The girl was able to walk on her own -- Tymas was not dragging her but merely leading her by the hand. She did not, however, appear to be aware of her surroundings. Her eyes did not focus on the boy, or on Teyla or John. If they settled on any one thing, it was a thing that Teyla could not see.
John found his voice before Teyla did. "What's wrong with her?" He sounded as disturbed as she was.
"I told you." There was a minute amount of satisfaction in the boy's voice, though anger dominated. "The elders stole her mind, as they do all of the women. They give them something in their food. It makes them like this." Now he turned his gaze on the girl. The despair in that look tore at Teyla's heart. "She was fine. She was normal. And then, three months ago, she became a woman, and they took her away. She is my sister," he added. His hand hadn't left hers; Teyla saw his fingers tighten. "They took her away from us -- my father and our brothers. The next time I saw her, two weeks later, she was like this."
He turned desperate eyes back on the two from Atlantis. "I couldn't bear it. It's not right! She was smart -- smarter than me! -- and funny and kind -- and now she's nothing." He clenched his teeth, fighting a losing battle with tears.
Tymas' sister did not flinch at his outburst, nor at his description of her current state. She remained as blankly serene as if she had not heard a single word.
Teyla wanted to step forward, to touch the girl. Perhaps to slap her, in an effort to wake her from this chilling non-presence. Some instinct, or maybe the boy's desperation -- for surely he had tried such things -- convinced her that it would not help. Instead, she softly said, "John."
The colonel hesitated. "Why did you stop us?" he asked the boy quietly. "What do you want from us?"
Tymas drew himself up straight. "Help me. Help her." He nodded sharply back down the road, the way they had come. "Help the others." He looked pointedly at their weapons. "You can make the elders stop." Now he looked at Teyla. "You can prove to them that women are no threat. That their minds are as good as men's, and that they should be allowed to be free."
Teyla and John exchanged another look. After a moment, he nodded. "You'd better come with us," he told the boy.
"You'll help?" His eyes lit, returning to him the youth his despair and determination had stolen.
"It is not our decision to make," Teyla told him gently. "However, we will do everything in our power to convince our leader to help." She paused. "Our leader is also a woman, and fair. I do not believe she will need much convincing."
John nodded his agreement and gestured down the path. "Let's go, then."
"We've run into a situation."
Elizabeth frowned at the open gate. "What kind of situation?"
John paused. In her mind's eye she could see him formulating his words, picking and choosing with care. "Things in the village were fine, except for a distinct lack of women. When Teyla and I were on our way back to the gate, we ran into a boy who claims that all of the women of the village are being drugged and held prisoner against their will."
Her blood ran cold. For a split second she wondered if she'd heard him right. "Did you just say -- all of them?"
"Yeah." His voice was understandably grim, even over the radio. "From the moment they hit puberty. Which happened to Tymas' sister a few months ago. He broke her out and now they're asking for our help. Well, he is. She... doesn't really seem capable of asking for help right now."
"Drugged?" she asked quietly.
"Looks like it to me. Something's been done to this girl."
Her heart clenched. Keeping a tight lid on her emotions, she asked, "What kind of help are they looking for?"
"From the way he keeps eying our weapons, I think he wants us to lead an armed assault to break out the women."
She blinked. "John --"
"I know." He paused again. "I think you should hear what he has to say."
Her eyebrows crept towards her hairline. "You want to bring him here."
"They do need a safe place to stay."
She hesitated. "I don't need to remind you that base security is our first priority."
"Well, yeah, but these are a couple of kids we're talking about here."
"Kids we know nothing about. The SGC has been threatened on more than one occasion by seemingly innocent children." She hated having to point it out, but that was the job -- play the bad guy, point out the dangers, be the mom to the entire city. Keep them safe when the man who was supposed to be in charge of base security wanted to bring home strays.
His words echoed back through her mind and she winced. Strays or not, she needed to hear what the boy had to say. And to see the girl for herself.
"Double the guard," he said firmly. "And have Beckett run tests on them. Hell, have Heightmeyer interview them if you want."
"I might do that. The first two, we'll definitely do." She nodded briefly to the sergeant standing to the side, who relayed the order to the guards. Behind her, she heard Chuck issue the call to the infirmary for medical personnel to report to the gate room.
"So we're good to bring them in?"
As soon as the guards were set, she nodded to Chuck, who lowered the shield on the stargate. "The door is open."
Moments later, John emerged from the event horizon. He was followed closely by two children -- young teenagers, really. Elizabeth watched them closely as she slowly descended the stairs. The boy was clearly overwhelmed. It might have been his first trip through the stargate, for one. For another, he was in the city of the Ancients, whom most of the Pegasus galaxy revered as near-gods. And for yet another, he had a lot of guns pointed at him, which was disconcerting to anyone. She couldn't blame him for being wide eyed and pale.
The girl was a different story entirely. Where the boy was shaken, she seemed completely unconcerned. Blank was a better word for it. As Elizabeth got closer, she could see that the girl's eyes didn't track; she was staring off into the distance, clearly not focused on anything. Her brother held onto her hand.
With a slight pause that she thought no one but John noticed, Elizabeth stepped past the circle of guards to approach the group on the ramp. "Colonel, welcome back."
"Thanks." He gestured to the pair beside him. "Dr. Weir, meet Tymas and Alana. Tymas, this is Dr. Weir, our leader here."
The boy's eyes went from overwhelmed to intense in an instant. He stared at her almost challengingly. "Will you help my sister?"
"We'll do what we can," she assured him quietly.
The arrival of the medical team made her turn. She introduced Dr. Beckett to the boy, telling him, "The doctors need to look you both over, if that's alright. After that, I'd like to talk to you, to find out whatever you can tell us about what's happened to your sister and the other women."
Tymas looked dubious at the mention of the doctors, but his expression cleared to one of grim determination at her last words. He nodded bravely and followed the medical team, leading his sister by the hand. A half-dozen guards went with them.
Elizabeth touched Carson's arm before he could move to follow. "Do a full workup."
She didn't need to tell him the potential risks. He nodded, concern in his eyes. "Aye. And the girl?"
"Her brother says she's been drugged. Find out whatever you can."
When he left, she headed back towards the stairs. John fell into step beside her. "I figured this might take a while, so I sent Teyla back to fill in Ronon and McKay."
She glanced at him. "Will she be alright? If these people really are mistreating their women..."
"The worst anyone's done to her so far is give her funny looks. She said they made her uncomfortable, but nothing worse than that."
"Hmm." They passed through the control room and into her office. "We'll try to get back to them as soon as possible, in any case." She sat at her desk while John sprawled in the chair across from her. "While we wait for the doctors' reports, I need a fuller report of what happened."
He didn't have a lot to report, unfortunately. Everything had been fairly standard -- greeted by a group of town elders, brought in for food and drink, sat down for some talking. The elders had asked about the state of things in the rest of the galaxy, especially some trading partners they'd lost touch with. They themselves had suffered a culling not long ago, which they were still recovering from, but they'd fared better than some. From what John said, the town wasn't large, but it was big enough to have developed some protections, probably in the form of some caves or underground tunnels where they could hide from the Wraith. Understandably, the elders hadn't volunteered that information.
Nothing in John's report raised her eyebrows -- aside from the visible lack of women, of course. He was clearly chagrined not to have noticed the oddity immediately. Elizabeth shrugged a little, giving him a small smile. "You weren't exactly expecting it. I'm not sure anyone would be looking for it. At least you realized it eventually."
He shrugged in return. "I think Tymas would have stopped us, either way. At least this way we weren't completely surprised by what he had to say."
"No, just mostly surprised." She shook her head. "I've heard of a lot of things, but drugging every woman in a culture? I can't imagine it being done without a reason. A misguided one, maybe, but..."
John nodded a little. "If they'd reacted badly to Teyla, I'd have assumed they just hate women. Since they didn't..."
"It's more complicated." She could only hope that the boy would be able to clarify things. She had her doubts the reliability of someone his age, especially when he was as emotionally involved as he was, but she needed to have what information was available before she could go to the elders herself.
It wasn't too much later that Carson came to her office. "We've completed our assessment of Tymas. Initial results show nothing dangerous in his system. We still have a couple of tests pending, but I'm ready to turn him over to you."
Elizabeth nodded, grateful for the opportunity to move forward. "And the girl, Alana?"
Concern darkened his gaze. "Again, nothing dangerous in her system. However, we're still looking at her, trying to determine what's been done to her. I'm not ready to make any report on that subject yet."
John eyed him. "Meaning you don't know anything yet."
Carson shrugged, unabashed. "Aye. Tests such as these take time."
"Faster is better, Carson, but take whatever time is needed. We need to be sure."
"Aye."
She stood, John following her lead a moment later. "Have Tymas brought to the briefing room."
The boy met them there. He'd been cleaned up and no longer looked like quite the ruffian he had when he'd arrived, though his clothing was still dirt-marked. Without his sister to hold onto, his hands fidgeted and clung to each other. His eyes briefly darted around the room as he sat. They fixed quickly enough on Elizabeth and John, though, with the same intensity as before.
Elizabeth leaned forward, setting her hands on the table. "I'm sorry for taking you away from your sister. I assure you, she's in the best of care."
The boy nodded. "You said you'd help. The doctors -- they can make her better, right?"
"They'll certainly do everything they can. It would help us both to help her and to help the rest of the women in your village if you could tell us everything you know about what's going on."
Tymas nodded again. He drew in a deep breath, looking at his hands. "When a girl becomes a woman," he said slowly, "she's taken away. When it happened to Alana, a bunch of men came to the house." He glanced up at Elizabeth and John. "My father didn't argue. He wasn't even mad, he was just... sad. Like there was nothing he could do. But she's his daughter!" He clenched his jaw, swallowing hard. "He said she would be safe. That -- that she wasn't going to come home. He said I'd understand when I was older."
Elizabeth frowned, not hearing among the "he saids" the answer she really wanted. "Did he say why she was taken?"
The boy shook his head. "The elders -- they say it's for their own good. It's a lie." His look was ferocious. "I knew where they took her. Everyone knows where the women are. Some of the men spend a lot of time there, but they won't talk about it! They just tell me I'll find out when I'm older." He shook his head. "I went there. I found a way to get in without getting caught. And I saw them. All of them. They're all... blank. Like Alana. They're drugged."
"You know for sure they're drugged?" John asked.
"I saw it." Tymas nodded sharply. "I went back and watched whenever I had a chance. I watched for three weeks. The men, they take care of them. They bring them food, help them wash, everything. But they put stuff in their food. And sometimes they take some of the women away. I -- I didn't follow them." Shame lowered his eyes, but he added defensively, "I would have gotten caught. I couldn't follow them."
Elizabeth suspected he hadn't entirely wanted to know what happened to the women who were taken off alone. She could certainly make some guesses of her own, few of them pleasant. "That's alright," she assured him quietly.
John sat forward. "Were any of the women hurt?"
The boy frowned in thought. "No, I don't think so. But... Alana fell a couple times in the woods, after I got her out. She skinned her knee, but she didn't cry out or anything. She walked normal, too, and I know when I hurt my knee it's harder to walk."
Carson would let them know if there were any more serious injuries on the girl. It was disturbing to know that she -- and presumably the rest of the women -- wasn't even aware when she'd been hurt, and couldn't tell anyone if she had been injured. Elizabeth did her best to suppress a shudder as she picked up the thread of questioning. "You said the elders' explanation is a lie. What exactly do they claim?"
His face darkened. "They say they're sick. They don't think right. They're confused and violent. But Alana was never violent! I've never seen a woman be violent or any of the things they say."
Beside her, John frowned. "When would you have?" At the boy's confused look, he elaborated, "If all the women are locked up, when have you seen any that weren't drugged?"
Tymas' expression cleared. "Traders," he answered promptly. "And we have some old stories with women in them who are normal, just like men."
Elizabeth felt her eyebrows go up. "Things weren't always like this?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't know when it started, but... in history lessons, we learn about notable elders of previous generations, and a lot of them are women."
"But there's no mention of when that changed, or why?"
"No." He shook his head again, emphatically. "But it doesn't matter. What matters is what's happening now."
"When you want to stop something from happening," she told him softly, "it's crucial to know why it's happening."
The boy didn't look convinced. John sat forward, pointing at him. "You want us to take a bunch of guns, bust down the doors -- the whole heroic rescue thing, right?" Tymas nodded sharply. John nodded back, slowly. "We could do that."
"We could," Elizabeth agreed with a glance at John, "but a lot of people would get hurt. A lot of your people."
"Including some of the women we're supposed to be rescuing," John finished.
There were other issues, of course. Like the fact that they would have an entire village's worth of women on their hands -- completely helpless women -- who would need a place to stay. Atlantis was huge, but their resources were still limited. There was also the fact that they would essentially be declaring war on Tymas' people. His town wasn't terribly large, but they had trading partners who could make the Lanteans' lives difficult. That was assuming Elizabeth was okay with starting a war -- another one -- which she wasn't.
She folded her hands, looking piercingly at the boy. Their words had taken some of the fight out of him; now he looked more desperate and hopeless than angry. "What can you do, then? You said you'd help."
"We'll talk to the elders. We may be able to convince them to stop what they're doing -- without a show of force." She hesitated. Another thought occurred to her, but it wasn't one she thought the boy would be willing to hear. She held her peace, instead saying, "When we go back to your people, would you like to come with us? To make your case to the elders alongside us?"
Surprise lit his expressive eyes, followed by a jumble of emotions she was sure only the young could manage. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, fear won out. "I can't go back," he asserted with a shake of his head. He trembled slightly. "They'll be mad that I stole Alana from them. They'll be mad that I went to you. They'll punish me -- maybe do to me what they did to her." He shook his head again. "I -- I want to stay here. With my sister," he added quickly, looking rapidly between Elizabeth and John.
"Of course." She nodded firmly. "If you don't want to go back, we won't make you. And we certainly won't take your sister back until it's safe."
He relaxed a little, nodding. "Thank you."
"Is there anything else you can tell us? About the women, the elders...?"
Tymas was already shaking his head. "I -- I'd like to go see my sister. Please."
Elizabeth tried not to sigh. She'd frightened him by mentioning going back. She couldn't blame him for wanting to make sure his sister was okay. "Of course." Standing, she gestured to the door. "Sergeant Moore will take you back to the infirmary."
He slipped out, following the sergeant. Once he was out of sight, John came over to perch on the table beside her. She glanced at him, assessing his mood. "Thoughts?"
"He's scared." He shrugged. "Can't say I blame him. The idea of ending up like Alana is pretty scary to me, too."
She nodded. "What I've been trying to wrap my head around is why. Why drug an entire town's worth of women?"
"Make them more pliable. Less independent."
"This goes way beyond 'less independent.' They apparently can't even take care of themselves. They're clearly not contributing to any industry..." The moment she said it, she realized it wasn't necessarily true. There were any number of things a group of helpless women could provide -- things generally reserved for the likes of cattle, not humans. She met John's eyes grimly. From his expression, the same thoughts had occurred to him. She shook her head sharply. "We could speculate endlessly. We need to talk to the elders and see these women for ourselves."
"Agreed."
She hesitated. "It occurred to me earlier that the elders might be telling the truth -- that the women really are sick. If that's the case, it may change things."
He looked thoughtful. "If that's the case, then it's a good thing Alana's with the best doctors in the galaxy."
She nodded. "I'll make sure Carson looks for possible illnesses. I'll also suggest she be moved into isolation. That way if she's contagious --"
"Or gets violent."
"She'll be contained." She grimaced as they headed out of the briefing room. "There are days when I love this job. A day when I have to make plans to restrain a 14-year-old girl isn't one of them."
"Yeah."
A day when she found out an entire village's worth of women were being drugged into submission in no way made the list, either. Her stomach was a knot as she went into the control room. She just hoped they could do something for those ladies, or she wasn't sure she'd be able to live with herself.
Teyla had watched John and the children pass through the stargate before she returned to the village. Given the boy's revelations regarding the women in this village, she found herself more on edge as she walked. She had not been threatened in any way, but perhaps now that she was alone...
She saw no one on the path, however, and in town the attitudes had not changed. Now she noticed the lack of women in the streets. There were men going about their business, traveling the streets, selling wares, talking with neighbors. There were children playing -- both male and female. There were no grown women, though, and the lack was startlingly obvious now that she knew to look for it. She saw, too, the odd looks the men and children gave her. As though she was something rare, that they did not see often. Which was obviously the case.
When she returned to the meeting house, Rodney and Ronon were still deep in discussions with the elders. She joined the conversation, but her attention was divided between the words that were spoken and the silent attitudes of the men in the room. When the opportunity presented itself, she suggested to the elders that they had taken up more than enough of the esteemed gentlemen's time, and that breakfast had been a long time ago... They took the hint and suggested in return that they take their lunch in the inn down the street. There they were whisked into a back room and given privacy, which suited Teyla's purposes.
She filled in the others as they ate. Rodney was startled enough that he set down his fork. "No women? Really?" His brow furrowed. "I hadn't noticed."
"I had." Ronon lifted a shoulder in a shrug at her look. "Not even any women here in the inn. Never seen a place to eat that didn't have women serving the food."
"Huh."
She related the rest of what Tymas had said. Rodney blanched. Ronon reached for his weapon. After convincing the Satedan to return to his seat, she recommended that they all remain in the private room until they heard from Atlantis or John returned.
Ronon paced. Rodney speculated aloud. Teyla sat and thought quietly. She was grateful when, after only a short time, her radio spoke. "Teyla, this is Atlantis, do you read?"
It was Elizabeth's voice. "Atlantis, this is Teyla, I read you."
"How are things going?"
How much to say? "Well," she allowed. "We spoke with the elders about a number of things. We then broke for lunch. I am with Ronon and Dr. McKay in a private room in the town's inn."
There was a slight pause. "So you can speak freely?"
"I believe so." She had no reason to think the elders were eavesdropping on their conversation. Of course, she would not have thought they were drugging their women... However, if the elders were listening in, they would already have heard her telling her teammates of Tymas' tale, so the question was most likely moot.
"I've spoken with the boy, and the doctors are looking over the girl. His claim that she was drugged has been confirmed."
Teyla was not surprised, though in retrospect another explanation for her state would have been welcome. She found herself nodding. "Understood."
"I will be accompanying John when he returns to the village."
That was a surprise. "You intend to bring the boy's concerns to the elders?"
"They've become my concerns." Elizabeth's voice was grim.
"And mine," Teyla agreed. Sounds of assent rose from the other side of the room.
"You've spoken with them. How can I expect them to react to me?"
Teyla gave the question some thought. "They are... something of a contradiction. For the most part I have been treated with a great deal of respect. However, I've also noticed quite a few sidelong glances, and some of the men seem uncomfortable to stand near me. Two of the seven have attitudes that border on hostile, though their words have been polite." She paused, considering it. "In general, I believe you will be accepted as an equal. However, I cannot guess what their reaction will be when you challenge them regarding the women."
"I understand." Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "Thank you, Teyla. It's good to have an idea of what I'm stepping into."
"Would you like us to meet you at the stargate?"
"Please, but only if you can do so without the elders coming with you. I'd prefer to beard the lion in his den, not on the steps of the stargate."
The town looked remarkably normal. Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure what she'd expected -- maybe that the disturbing treatment of the women of the village would be evident in some other way. Bare trees, creepy animals, misshapen buildings... Instead, it was a town that could have been the sister to many she'd seen, both off-world and on Earth.
Except, of course, for the lack of women.
Since she knew to look for it, the lack was obvious. It bothered her more than she'd expected. As they walked through the streets, seeing men and only men going about their business, it took an effort of will not to grit her teeth. She was a firm believer in balance in life, and this -- this was beyond unbalanced.
She actually relaxed a little when they entered the hall of the elders. Here, at least, she was on familiar footing; she had spent much of her diplomatic career arguing with rooms full of men. This time she even had a group of armed men behind her, as well as an equally capable and determined woman. Their presence wasn't something she relied on, but it bolstered her.
The elders were introduced to her and pleasantries exchanged. She made note of the various reactions the elders had to her. They matched what Teyla had conveyed -- curiosity, some discomfort, and hostility only from two of the seven. She had received worse on Earth from leaders of supposedly free countries. She filed away that comparison, wondering what, if anything, it meant.
They were invited to sit at a long rectangular table. The elders shared one side, with the Eldest, a man named Korrin, in the center. Elizabeth sat across from him. John sat to her left, while Teyla took the seat to her right. The flicker of surprise that crossed several of the elders' faces told her the seating choice was the right one.
Korrin himself didn't betray any such reaction -- a good diplomat, she wondered, or truly unfazed? Instead he smiled warmly, spreading his hands. "Dr. Weir, we are indeed glad to have you at our table."
The words had the feeling of a ritual welcome. She inclined her head deeply, hands clasped on the table in front of her. "I am honored to be here. I only wish it was under better circumstances."
That certainly got his attention. "And what," he asked carefully, "are the circumstances that have brought you here?"
"It's more a question." She held his gaze. "Eldest, where are your women?"
Every one of the elders reacted. She didn't take her eyes from Korrin, but peripherally she saw the others flinch, heard them exhale or shift or quietly swear. Someone actually growled -- the one named Prentt, she thought. He appeared to be the youngest of the council, and his hostility had already been noted. She knew that John and the others would keep an eye on him in case he did more than growl.
For his part, Korrin paled but otherwise kept his calm. "That is a private matter," he said levelly. The warmth was gone from his face, leaving his expression polite but distant -- a diplomatic mask Elizabeth was well familiar with.
She kept her voice level, as well, but there was an edge of steel to it. "When a member of your community comes forward and asks for our help, it is no longer a private matter."
A mutter from down the table might have been Tymas' name. Korrin sat forward slightly, his manner earnest. "A boy has gone missing. It had been assumed that he simply ran away in a fit of pique, but... If he is the one you say 'came forward,' I urge you to remember that children have vivid imaginations. He has said wild things in the past."
"Wild like, 'there are no women in this village'?" Rodney snapped his fingers. "Except, wait, all you have to do is step outside to see that."
"The allegations," Elizabeth said, regaining control, "are serious." She met Korrin's eyes. "We were told that your women are held against their will and drugged into submission."
The Eldest's mask slipped, showing the anger beneath it. Others were not so subtle about it. Two shoved back their chairs, standing belligerently, while the rest grumbled or stared. One, Meril, nearly shouted at her, "It is none of your concern!"
"I beg to differ," she snapped back. "My people will not do business -- of any form -- with a culture that mistreats anyone in such a way."
"Whatever you may have been told, our women are not being mistreated." Korrin's mask was back in place, but he spoke rapidly. "They are given the best possible care --"
"We don't have to explain ourselves to these people!"
"They are allies --"
"We have other allies! What need to we have for ones who would dig into things that are none of their business?"
"Yes, we have other allies," Korrin said scathingly, glaring at his cohort. "And what reaction would they have to the news that we threw out visitors from Atlantis? And for what crime? For asking after the welfare of our people?" He shook his head slowly. "We would soon, I think, have far fewer allies than we currently do." He met Elizabeth's gaze again, a question in his eyes.
She nodded slightly. "I don't spread rumors and gossip, Eldest, but I would feel it necessary to warn anyone who might have dealings with you that you are... not entirely what you appear."
He considered her gravely. "And that, I think, is fair."
"Fair!"
"Peace," he ordered, steel in his voice. The elder who had spoken frowned deeply but subsided. Korrin nodded to Elizabeth. He seemed abruptly weary. "I apologize for our reaction. What you question is a sensitive subject, and not one we speak of with outsiders."
"I understand." She leaned forward slightly. "Believe me, I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't seen and heard enough to make me believe the allegations had merit. Once I did believe it, I couldn't in good conscience not ask. So. Let me ask again: where are your women?"
The Eldest took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Our women are ill."
"Ill how?"
"It began long ago. In my father's father's father's youth, a woman named Marna began acting strangely. She had been a sweet woman, kind and generous. She was married to a good man, one who treated her well, and they had recently celebrated the birth of their first child. Her odd behavior was initially thought to be the result of the strain of childbirth. Few thought anything of it.
"Until one night she killed both husband and child, and then herself."
Elizabeth started. Korrin did not seem to notice; his manner had become that of a teacher or story-teller, his words obviously well rehearsed. He continued with only a slight pause to let the surprise sink in.
"Even after that tragedy, none knew the full meaning of what had happened. It was taken as an isolated incident, nothing more.
"Two months later, another woman began acting strangely. This woman, Eirn, was young and unwed. Her family attempted to hide her odd behavior, for what man would have a woman whose mind had turned?" There was a haunted, bitter twist to Korrin's lips then. It passed as he continued. "Her secret was revealed when she had an outburst in public, trying to beat a child who offered her a flower. When brought before the elders in trial, the depth of her madness became clear. Her family agreed to keep her in their home, safe but away from strangers, both for her protection and for the safety of others.
"That night, after the trial, one of the elders, a woman by the name of Pena, made a confession to the others. Her daughter was also exhibiting some disturbing behavior. The elder was torn between love for her daughter and concern for her people. The latter won out. One such illness, she said, was nothing to worry about. Twice was coincidence. Three times was the beginning of a problem.
"She and the others agreed to keep an eye on the women of the village. They watched -- discreetly -- and reported back at the next council meeting. Their findings were not comforting. A great number of women were acting out of character. The elders wanted to blame the observations on on their own paranoia, to say that it was not truly something to worry about. Perhaps it wasn't a change, or perhaps the season was to blame. The more they watched, however, the more they realized that the problem was real -- and it was growing.
"Violence grew sharply. Women struck their husbands and children for minor offenses. There was brawling for equally little reason. Some began to wander, in their sleep or in broad daylight, without direction or conscious thought. Some responded to voices no one else could hear. Some attempted murder or suicide. A few succeeded.
"By year's end, the entire community knew of the problem. It had spread like fire, but with no obvious method of contagion. Marna and Eirn, whom all considered to be the first afflicted, had not been friends. Their paths rarely crossed. If this was a sickness, it seems unlikely that it was spread from woman to woman. How it was spread remains a mystery.
"Families soon began keeping their daughters and wives at home when they began showing signs of the madness. It was difficult on all, particularly those families with several daughters. Some simply could not care for their own. When it was realized that more than half of the women of the community were sick, the elders decided that a more centralized system would provide better care -- as well as better protection for those who were well.
"It soon became clear, however, that the community was ill-prepared to contain a large number of women with violent impulses and little sense. They outnumbered their guards significantly, and it was unfortunately easy for them to leave their dwelling and cause havoc in the town. The only way to subdue them was with force." Korrin's face was drawn as he shook his head. "We set out to be caretakers. We became, instead, jailers.
"It was a man named Solan who discovered the answer to at least some of our hopes. What we wanted most, of course, was a cure for the illness that plagued them. In lieu of that, we needed a way to contain the women without force. We needed a way to prevent them from doing harm to themselves or others. Solan's discovery was a trio of herbs that, mixed together and ingested, create a submissive demeanor in a person. When taken by even the most disturbed, they become sedate. Pliable. They do not yell, or strike out, or wander.
"They also do not speak, or eat, or clean themselves. They are like dolls who live and breathe, without a mind or will of their own.
"It is not an ideal solution, but it is the only solution we have. By Solan's generation, every woman in the village was afflicted with the madness. Now we send every female to the women's complex in the month she becomes a woman. It is better by far that they do not experience the wild thoughts and behaviors that come with the illness. Better, indeed, for all of us.
"It is the task of the men of our people to watch over the women, to care for them, for they cannot care for themselves. Every male from the time he comes of age has a place on the caretaker rotation. For three months at a time, he spends half of his hours in the women's complex, doing all that is required of him. It is an honorable duty, and one which we all must share."
Silence fell heavily over the group.
It was hard to process the Eldest's words, to truly grasp the weight of the tale. Elizabeth was still processing it when John sat forward. "That's a good story." His tone was deceptively flippant. "It sounds like you tell it a lot, but you said you don't talk about all of that to outsiders."
"We don't." Korrin nodded slightly at John. "We tell the history to every man as he comes of age, so that he knows and understands what it means to be a man in our community."
That explained why Tymas hadn't known the full story -- or at least the elders' version of it. She couldn't help but wonder how much was true. It certainly was plausible, moreso than the idea that their culture had started drugging all of their women for some nefarious purpose. And yet, how could they prove it?
"I wonder," she said slowly, an idea forming, "if maybe we can help you find a more... satisfactory solution to your problem."
Korrin's gaze sharpened. "How do you mean?"
"Our doctors have experience with a vast array of illnesses. It's possible they would be able to identify, treat, or even cure whatever is wrong with your women."
Korrin's eyes lit up. "You -- you truly believe this is possible?"
"Well, I'm not a medical doctor, so I can't say for certain. But our doctors are the best anywhere. Yes, I believe it's possible."
The Eldest breathed out hard, sitting back in his chair. "Stunned" described his look well. Actually, it fit the expressions on all of the elders. "That... Dr. Weir, that would truly be miraculous. A gift from the ancestors. I do not know if you understand what it would mean to our people if you could do as you say. A cure..." He shook his head wonderingly. "Surely you have been sent by the ancestors themselves to aid us."
She tried to hide her discomfort. "I want to be sure you realize, there's no guarantee that we will be able to do anything."
"I know," he assured her quickly, nodding. "But it's more hope than we have had in generations."
"In that case, let's not delay things any further." She stood. Her team followed suit, though she felt their uncertain glances. "I need to speak with my people back in Atlantis. I hope you realize that if we're going to help you, we will need full access to the women, and full cooperation from all of your people. Can you promise that?"
"I can and do." Korrin nodded emphatically. He stood as well, bowing deeply. "We will anxiously await your return."
Rodney started to say something when they got out of the building, but Elizabeth waved him off. Only when they got out of the village did she turn to the others. "Thoughts?"
"If that story is true?" Rodney shuddered. "It's downright scary."
"If? You still have doubts?"
"Do you not?" Teyla asked her.
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "If they weren't sincere, why were they so eager for our help? They seemed genuinely thrilled at our offer."
John shot her a look. "Not all of them."
"I did notice that." At least three of the seven elders had shown less enthusiasm than the others. Notably, two of them had been the same ones who had been the most wary around Teyla in the initial talks. "Maybe there's some truth to Tymas' accusations," she mused. "Maybe the original intentions were good, but..."
"Perhaps they are abusing the power they hold." Teyla nodded gravely. "It would be hard to believe such abuse never occurred, even without having heard Tymas' claims."
John grimaced. "Power corrupts."
"Do you think they'll give us problems?"
Ronon spoke up for the first time. "We can take them."
Elizabeth cast a glance back at him. "Well, yes, but I'd rather our people not have to 'take' anyone who is supposed to be our ally."
"We should make sure our doctors have guards with them at all times, though," John pointed out. "Just in case."
"Agreed." She shook her head. "What a mess."
No one disagreed.
While Teyla was not a doctor, she had some knowledge of medicines. It was thought among her people that anyone who would lead them should have familiarity with as many skills and professions as possible. How could she properly lead if she did not understand what her people could do? And yet nothing she had seen among her own people and their allies could have prepared her for what the people from Earth were capable of. They had understanding and technology that far surpassed anything she had encountered before.
Whenever she had the opportunity, she learned what she could from the doctors and nurses in the infirmary -- enough, at least, to understand the terms they used, and to be able to perform what they considered to be basic "first aid." (The incident with the Iratus bug early in her time in Atlantis had given her a good start on that knowledge, at least.)
She volunteered without hesitation when Colonel Sheppard was assigning people to guard the doctors on their visit to the women's complex. Not just for the medical knowledge, but also because she wished to see for herself the condition of the women of this culture. They had been told two very different stories; she needed to see what the truth was.
She walked beside Dr. Beckett as they traveled the path towards the village. His team and their guards trailed behind them. It was not a large group, fortunately, just a few doctors and nurses. They would, he had said, assess the situation and determine the best course of action from there, including whether or not they would need more personnel. She hoped not; it was far easier to protect the smaller group, should it come to that.
He glanced at her sidelong. "You seem nervous."
"I am... uneasy," she confessed. "I am not certain what to expect when we get to the women's complex."
"Oh, aye." He shook his head. "Tymas was able to tell me some, but I'm not sure how much to trust it. I don't know that they would let us see it if it was as bad as he said."
Teyla nodded her agreement. "How is he?"
"He's alright. He's a good lad. Very attentive of his sister."
"And how is she?"
"There are positives signs, actually. She's begun to register outside stimuli -- her pupils react to light, loud noises make her flinch. Given the state she was in when she came through the gate, her progress has been remarkable."
"Is that because of something you did?"
"No, no. We believe the drugs she was given here have been working their way out of her system. With any luck, we'll soon see her normal state. I suspect we'll learn more from her than from the ladies here, to be honest. It's difficult to diagnose a problem when you can't see the symptoms of it."
Their conversation was cut short as they entered the village. A small group waited in the square to take them to the women's complex. It lay in the opposite direction from the stargate, away from where any visitors might accidentally wander. The path to it was clearly frequently traveled by the village inhabitants, however.
Teyla listened as their guide, an elder by the name of Sorin, described the complex to Dr. Beckett while they walked. "There are four buildings, all connected, with a courtyard in the center. We feel it's important that the women get fresh air on a regular basis. The men on duty are paired up and assigned to care for groups of twenty to thirty women at a time. They bathe and feed them, make sure that they perform sufficient physical activity each day -- to prevent stiffness and sores and other problems from immobility -- and guide them to receive medical care when necessary. They are also, of course, responsible for ensuring that every woman receives her daily dose. If any woman in their care begins behaving erratically, they are to report that immediately, and act to subdue her if necessary."
His casual tone bothered Teyla, though she strove to hide it. "How many women are currently in the complex?"
"Nearly three hundred."
Her steps faltered. "That many?"
Sorin nodded. "It is difficult," he acknowledged. His tone was no longer so casual. "I will confess, we have considered... limiting the number of girl children in our community, to prevent the caretakers from being overburdened. Thankfully, no such measures have needed to be implemented."
Teyla shuddered. Beside her, Dr. Beckett did the same. "Thankfully, indeed," he muttered.
The elder's comments brought to light something that had already been bothering Teyla. She had not be certain how to broach it. Even now, she spoke carefully. "How is it that you have children at all?" At Sorin's look of shock, she apologized, "I know it is a private subject --"
"It is." He frowned fiercely at her.
She was undaunted. "And yet I must ask. The women here have no will to give consent..."
Sorin's long, stony silence was enough of an answer.
She felt herself grow angry. "They are made to bear children against their will." She made it a statement, not a question. "They are made to carry a man's child -- to lay with him? Without being able to choose for herself? Without even being in control of her own body?"
"They are not aware of what is happening to them!" Sorin snapped, turning to face her. "They are less conscious of the process than a herd animal brought to breed."
"That does not make it right!"
"Right?" He stepped closer. "Would it be right to let our people die out?" He lowered his voice, desperation creeping into his tone. "What other choice do we have?"
Dr. Becket laid a hand on the man's arm. "That's why we're here." His eyes were on Teyla. "To hopefully present another option. A better one."
Sorin let out a breath, the anger draining from him. "Then let's make haste, so that better option may be found, and quickly."
Nauseous and uncertain, Teyla remained quiet as they resumed walking down the path.
The women's complex was similar in appearance to the buildings of the village -- single level stone structures that looked sturdy and well-crafted. There were few windows and only one main door in the nearest building, which they entered. Inside, it was comfortably appointed, though the decorations were sparse and impersonal. Teyla found herself immediately longing for the beauty of Atlantis or the warm charm of Athosian dwellings. To spend much time in this spare place would be to invite madness.
They were given a brief tour of the facility. Each group of women had a large room to themselves, with beds and tables and chairs for each of the occupants. Bathing rooms were centrally located to be shared by several groups. Each of the four buildings had its own kitchen and medical rooms. The center courtyard was supposed to be a garden, but it was nearly as spare as the decorations inside. According to their guide, the plants and paths in the garden had to be kept at a low height and density to ensure that no one could be lost or hard to get to in the case of a problem.
Throughout the tour, they saw groups of women going through what was apparently their everyday life in the complex. Had Teyla not seen Alana for herself, she would have been shocked at the complete blankness of these women. Even with that experience, it was unpleasantly jarring to see so many women in one place with the same vacancy in their eyes.
After the tour, the doctors got to work. Teyla accompanied Dr. Beckett as he examined women from several of the groups in the first building. From what she understood, it was always better to have as large a "sample size" as possible. The more women were examined, the more chance they had to understand what was wrong with them.
The women were, of course, easy to handle, never fussing or complaining the way a normal patient would. Their male caretakers were less at ease with the process. They did not seem disturbed by Dr. Beckett, however. Instead, they cast wary glances at Teyla. One particularly uneasy man addressed Dr. Beckett directly. "Is it safe for her to be here?"
"Oh, aye. Well, as far as we can tell. No female visitor to your village has sickened before, correct? And if there is some airborne toxin, she's already been exposed. I have ordered that she and all of my female staff avoid physical contact with your ladies, though." He patted the shoulder of the woman he was examining, smiling sadly at her. "She should be alright," he concluded with a glance at the man.
"Ah," was the only response. If anything, the doctor's answer seemed to cause him to be more uneasy, rather than less. He avoided Teyla for the remainder of their time with that group.
They eventually emerged once again into the courtyard. At least two groups were out "enjoying" the fresh air. Women of all ages sat or stood around the courtyard. None spoke. None moved. It was nothing she had not seen again and again over the past two hours, but out here it was... different. They were like bleak statues among the ragged bushes and trees. It was unnerving -- and yet she could not look away. She found herself looking at each woman-statue, staring, hoping for some sign of life beyond the rise and fall of her chest.
It was that hope that drew her eyes to the only human motion in the garden. After an instant's surprise, she realized that the movement came not from a woman, but from a male caretaker sitting beside one of his charges. There was something off about the way they sat -- very close, with the woman's body almost hidden from sight. Frowning, Teyla stepped closer. The man's movement was somehow furtive. She could not see his hands, but as she neared, she realized that one was up the young woman's shirt.
"Excuse me," she called sharply, walking faster. "What are you doing?"
The man leapt up as though she'd hit him. "What?"
She spared a glance for the girl. That blank expression had not changed, but her clothing was disarrayed. So was the man's. Teyla glared at him. "What were you doing?" she demanded, though she had little doubt of the answer.
He held out his hands, palms out. "Stay calm."
"Stay calm?" She took another step towards him. "When you were --"
"Guards!" His shout startled her. Why was he calling for the guards? His next words made as little sense, though they were aimed at her. "Put the weapon down."
"I am not pointing it at you!"
"Everything will be alright."
She was still staring at him, bewildered, when several hands grabbed her. They were neither gentle nor friendly. She struggled against them, shouting with surprise as they tried to take her weapon. She tried to fight them off, but they were too many. She cried out for Dr. Beckett as the men swept her feet from under her, throwing her painfully to the ground. The impact stunned her, knocking the air from her lungs, and it was long minutes before she was aware of anything else.
"I am fine," Teyla assured them for the fifth or sixth time.
Elizabeth fought the urge to make a face at her. "You're lucky you didn't get a concussion."
The Athosian woman mustered a wan smile. "Dr. Beckett assures me I have a thick skull."
"Even so." Elizabeth wasn't able to smile in return. "It shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."
Teyla frowned. "Why are you sorry?"
"I shouldn't have allowed you to go. I should have realized their prejudice would run so deep. The elders dealt with us so evenly that it didn't occur to me that the rest of the men wouldn't be so open-minded."
"I should have thought of it, too," John said, nodding to Teyla. "I'm sorry."
"Perhaps we all should have." Teyla shook her head gingerly. "I knew they were wary of me, but it did not occur to me that my carrying a weapon would be seen as a threat. Though," her expression turned fierce, "to be frank, I would have used it as one on the man I approached. I trust he is being punished?"
"He is," Elizabeth assured her grimly. "Twenty lashes and a public shunning to last three weeks. They take this sort of thing very seriously."
"As well they should," John muttered, looking ill.
Teyla sighed her agreement. "Then the headache is worth it."
"Regardless, the incident does emphasize the need to find a better solution for those women. Quickly."
"Yes." Teyla glanced around the infirmary. "Have the doctors found anything yet?"
"They've only just begun. Carson tells me it will take some time." She grimaced her impatience. "They did leave a small team on the planet, to continue checking out the women and to make sure there's nothing there that they've missed. I ordered that the team be entirely male -- I'm not letting any of our female personnel back there without a damn good reason." She didn't like the restriction, but she wasn't about to put any more of her people in harm's way.
Teyla nodded. "Did Dr. Beckett remain?"
"No, he's here. He's checking in on Alana, Tymas' sister."
"Actually..." John nodded towards the door. "Speak of the devil."
Carson was smiling as he approached. "Not in this case, I think, Colonel. I come bearing good news. Alana is, for lack of a better term, awake."
Elizabeth frowned slightly. "Awake?"
"Perhaps 'aware' is more appropriate. She's conscious of her surroundings and she's even able to speak."
Elizabeth felt a surge of relief. "That's fantastic!" The sentiments were echoed by both John and Teyla.
Carson nodded, clearly pleased. "She's still a bit vague, but that should wear off. We should soon see what she's really like under that cloud of drugs."
"I'd like to speak with her, if possible."
"Aye, I thought you might. She's up for it, though I'd prefer you keep it short."
They followed him into the isolation room Alana was occupying. The change in the girl was immediately noticeable. Her eyes were fixed on her brother, who stood at her side, a joyous look on his young face. A smile stretched Alana's lips, though her features were still droopy with the drugs. Even with the lingering effects, there was a feel of life about her that had been missing before.
Elizabeth found herself smiling as she entered the room. She hung back, though, until the girl's gaze swung around towards them. Then she stepped forward slightly, hoping her smile was reassuring. "Hello, Alana. I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm Dr. Weir."
"You... at the gate." The girl's voice wavered but was understandable. Her eyes slid to John and Teyla, who had come in after Elizabeth. "You -- on the path."
"Yes." Teyla smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." Elizabeth saw her hand tighten on her brother's. "Almost... me."
"Good. I'm glad." With a glance at Carson, Elizabeth stepped forward again, to the end of the bed. "Would it be alright if I asked you a couple of questions?"
Alana blinked slowly. "Okay."
"Do you remember what things were like at the women's complex?"
"Mm." She closed her eyes. For long moment, Elizabeth thought she had fallen asleep. "Like seeing... in water," she said finally. "Moving in a dream." She opened her eyes, meeting Elizabeth's gaze again. "Doesn't feel real."
Elizabeth nodded. "Do you know why you were there?"
"Women go. We're sick." One of her shoulders lifted in the ghost of a shrug. "Didn't feel sick."
"You never felt sick? Or acted sick?"
"No."
Elizabeth nodded again. Softly, making sure she had Alana's gaze, she asked, "If you had the choice, would you go back?"
For the first time, she felt like she had the full weight of the girl's attention. "No," she said clearly. Her fingers were tight around her brother's hand. He looked back at Elizabeth, alarmed, but relaxed when she nodded to him.
"We're doing everything we can to make sure you never have to," she told the girl, and was rewarded with a smile.
Two days passed. Teyla recovered from the incident in the women's complex with no more than a bump on her head and a scrape on one elbow. Ronon gave her grief for being overpowered by several small, relatively untrained men. She retaliated by dropping him on his rear several times in one practice session. He quickly ceased his mocking.
Unfortunately, Alana's recovery was not so easy. Teyla did not follow the girl's progress closely, but she was in Dr. Weir's office when Dr. Beckett came to deliver disturbing news. "Alana had an outburst," he told them, his face grim. "She hit her brother. With no provocation, according to the nurse who was present. They were talking about perfectly ordinary things when she shrieked something nonsensical and slapped him. Repeatedly. The nurse had to physically restrain her."
Teyla's heart felt like a stone in her chest. She glanced at Elizabeth, whose eyes closed briefly. "We knew it was a possibility..."
"Aye," Dr. Beckett agreed softly, "but I'm not sure the boy did."
"How is he?" Teyla asked.
"Physically, he's alright. Emotionally..." He shook his head.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, regarding the doctor steadily. "Have Dr. Heightmeyer talk to Alana."
He nodded. "I called her before I came. She's with her now. Tymas is with one of the other counselors, Dr. Garner."
"Good. Keep me posted."
He and Dr. Heightmeyer updated them and the rest of the command staff later that day. Neither of the doctors looked happy when they entered the room. Teyla did her best to prepare herself for bad news.
"Alana is getting worse," Dr. Heightmeyer confirmed almost immediately. "In addition to violent outbursts -- she had another when I spoke with her this afternoon -- she is also hearing things. Whispers, voices, other sounds that aren't there. She's having trouble distinguishing between what's real and what's not."
Elizabeth leaned forward. "Is it possible this is a side-effect of the drugs she was given?"
"Unfortunately not," Dr. Beckett replied. "From the blood drawn from the women in the complex as well as from Alana herself, we've been able to determine relative levels of the drug in the system. As of this morning, Alana was completely clear of it. Nothing should be left in her body to produce side-effects."
"Is there anything you can do for her?" Teyla asked.
The doctors exchanged a glance. "That's actually a two-part question," Dr. Heightmeyer told her, nodding to Dr. Beckett.
"If you're looking for a cure," he said gravely, "the answer is no."
Elizabeth started. "You're certain?"
"You've barely had two days to look, and you're giving up already?" Rodney's tone was incredulous.
To his credit, Dr. Beckett did not flinch. "After looking at a number of brain scans, it became quite obvious. A portion of their brains is physically damaged in a way that we don't have the ability to repair."
Teyla looked away. Even Rodney could only manage a quiet, "Oh," in response. After a moment, Elizabeth cleared her throat to ask, "Can you tell what caused the damage?"
"Not yet," came the regretful answer. "I thought perhaps it was actually caused by the drugs, but a scan of a prepubescent girl -- one who has never been dosed -- revealed the beginnings of similar damage. Our current theory is that something in their bodies reacts badly to the hormone change at puberty, but it is only a theory."
"So right now, you can't prevent this from happening to the next generation, as well." Elizabeth's quiet statement hung in the air, punctuated by Dr. Beckett's reluctant nod.
John spoke up. "So you can't cure it, and you can't prevent it. What can you do?"
Dr. Heightmeyer leaned forward, folding her hands on the table. "Alana's symptoms bear a close resemblance to schizophrenia, though there are some differences. I'd like to try her on some of the meds commonly prescribed for that condition, as a starting point. If we could find something that worked to minimize her symptoms, it could provide us with a solution."
"Wait." Rodney stared across the table. "Your 'solution' is to medicate them? Every single woman in that village?"
Dr. Heightmeyer looked back at him steadily. "They're already being medicated."
He blinked. "Right."
Ronon spoke up for the first time. "So how's this any better?"
"With the right combination of meds, they'll be able to think clearly. To talk and communicate with the people around them. To take care of themselves. Compared to their current state, I think it's a thousand times better."
"Yeah, but it's not that easy." John caught Dr. Heightmeyer's eye. "Is it?"
"No," she acknowledged with a nod. "It's not. Finding the right medication is something that will have to be done for each woman individually. It's not a simple thing, either. It takes time for a prescription to reach its full effectiveness. Side effects can render even the most effective medicine unbearable for the person taking it. Many patients stop taking their medicine because they don't like the way it makes them feel, or because they start to feel stable and decide they don't need it anymore. Some prefer to self-medicate using alcohol or recreational drugs." She shook her head, meeting Elizabeth's gaze. "It's a rocky road. I don't see what other choice we have, though."
Teyla watched Elizabeth, glad -- as she often was -- that she was not the leader here. Her people's problems had often been difficult, but they were never on a scale like this. Elizabeth was silent for a long moment before she nodded. "Do what you can with Alana, and keep me posted. If and when she shows improvement, we'll take the option to the elders."
It took time and patience, but after a few weeks, Alana did begin to improve. Elizabeth went back to the village to talk to the elders. They were understandably disappointed that the doctors hadn't been able to find a cure. Their reactions to the option that was presented were mixed. Some, including Korrin, were optimistic and enthusiastic. Others were less so.
Prentt, one of the elders who had been openly hostile in their first meeting, was nearly beside himself. "You expect us to have women among us who can -- and probably will, according to you! -- stop taking their medication and revert to the violence we have so long tried to keep them from? We should put ourselves and our children in danger simply because you say so?"
Elizabeth gave him a steely look. "Is there no violence among your people already? Are the men in your community so perfect they never raise a hand in anger or act irrationally?"
Prentt growled. "It's not the same thing!"
"It's similar enough, Prentt, and the point is well taken." Korrin stared at his compatriot until the younger man subsided. Nodding to Elizabeth, the Eldest continued. "We will punish any woman who acts violently, as we do for a man. Steps may have to be taken for any woman who causes disturbances after stopping to take her medications, as well."
Elizabeth nodded cautiously. "I do suggest that you work with our doctors in cases like that -- it could be that a different set of medications would be more acceptable to her."
"Agreed. Of course we will have to work closely with your doctors in any case, to ensure that all of the women are given the best chance for a normal life."
Another elder down the table frowned. "I still fail to see how this is a better solution than what we have now. The current system works. Yes, it is a burden on the men, but we willingly shoulder it. And it does not force us to rely on outsiders."
The man in the next seat glared at him. "The current system does not work, you fool."
"It does!" He glared back. "Our community is strong and peaceful."
"Our community," Korrin said heavily, "is half-dead." He looked around the table, catching every eye. Even the most dissident of the elders stayed silent under that regard. "We have too long imprisoned the women of our community. We have too long taken away their will. For their own good, yes. But for too long. It is time to give their will back to them. To let them think. To choose. We have the means, now." He nodded to Elizabeth, who nodded back silently. "We owe it to our women to do what we always swore we would: we must give them their lives back, to do with as they wish.
"It will not be an easy road. Our lives will get more difficult. More complicated. And yet, we will sleep easier, knowing that we have done not what is easy, but what is right. That is all we can do. The rest will fall as it will."
Elizabeth left the meeting house feeling cautiously optimistic, herself. She wasn't sure the elders understood just how difficult things could get -- not just because of the issues surrounding the women's medication, but in terms of fallout from the years of physical and mental imprisonment. Alana swore the time she spent in the women's complex was like a vague dream, difficult to remember. Elizabeth hoped that would be true for the rest of the women. Without that, the community could be permanently fractured.
Despite the uncertain future, it was hard not to have hope. That hope grew as they walked through the village and saw Alana standing with Tymas outside of a house. The girl held a young child in her arms, and she was laughing happily. Her eyes met Elizabeth's briefly and she nodded once, smiling broadly. Elizabeth smiled back. As she and her team headed towards the stargate, she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out alright.