The Lazarus Effect
Orange.
Every leaf was a shade of the color. Clinging desperately to the surrounding trees, although most had already fallen and littered the ground. A veritable tapestry of dry, crunchy leaves spreading along the short grass, submerging it in a sea of orange. John Sheppard stared, momentarily distracted by the sight of autumn on an alien planet. But he quickly flew the Jumper smoothly out of the proximity of the Stargate and cloaked the ship. Rendering it invisible.
His gaze fell to the uncloaked Jumper ahead of him as it slowly descended, heading for the village. Air currents blew the fallen leaves into a frenzy of whirling orange tornadoes. Clearing the grasses until the ship had passed, then collapsing back to the ground. "Rodney?"
Rodney McKay was scowling, as he checked the screens. "Scanning. Nothing. No energy signatures of any kind. No EMF pulses. Just another agrarian community."
"On the surface," John noted. He activated the HUD. The screen projected a map in green lines.
"Those so-called religious structures are pretty far from the main village. Here we go." John flew towards them, glancing once more at the other Jumper as it smoothly landed. At the team exiting the vehicle. He could just make out Moira O'Meara's swinging ponytail against her blue jacked before he accelerated. Losing sight of them as he gained altitude.
"I don't understand why you are so suspicious, John," Rodney complained. "One gun–"
"One anomalous gun," John corrected, but Rodney ignored him.
"–doesn't prove anything! If they had developed any significant technology or even nuclear power I would have detected it!"
"I do not like this either," Teyla Emmagan confessed, frowning. "We are sneaking behind their backs to investigate their society when we have no justifiable reason to do so."
"The gun," John repeated.
"Good enough reason for me," Ronon Dex stated.
"What is the big deal about the gun anyway?" Rodney questioned.
"Humor me, Rodney. All right?" John requested tiredly. He piloted the ship smoothly.
"No. I fail to see the significance of a simple piece of–"
"Look, it's not open for discussion!" John snapped. "If I'm proven wrong, fine. If not, then and only then will I explain. Here. Do those look like religious structures to you?"
The jagged towers gleamed black in the sunshine. Stark contrasts sticking up at odd angles from the surrounding fall foliage. Hills rose gently in the distance. Leaves littered the ground. Yellow instead of orange. Like a faded golden carpet.
"No," Rodney flatly assessed. "They are definitely Lantean, though. Abandoned. I'm reading no energy signatures of any kind."
"We can only take their word that these are religious structures," Teyla admonished. "Many people worship the Ancients and what they left behind. If we violate their sanctuary we will lose all of their trust."
"They'll never know," John assured. He lowered the ship. Powered down. "All right." He turned to view his team. Met skeptical, disapproving, curious expressions. "We go in quiet. No comm chatter unless absolutely necessary. I'll take point. Ronon, the six. Rodney, keep your scans to a bare minimum. Teyla, flank right. Let's go." He stood, grabbed his P90, checked the holstered gun at his hip. Led them out of the ship. "Remember where we parked."
A cold breeze buffeted them as they stepped onto the ground. Leaves crunched under their feet, burying their boots in places. "For a religious sanctuary it looks awfully deserted," Ronon noted as they made their way through the structures.
"Iron. Interesting." Rodney touched one of the towers. Rapped his knuckles on it. A hollow clang filled the cold air.
"Hey! I said quiet!" John retorted, glaring.
"Perhaps it was abandoned after the last culling," Teyla suggested, staring round. Staring up at the towering spires. Like black fingers pointing into the blue sky. "Did not Major Lorne say this planet experienced a last culling twenty years ago? It would have decimated any progress."
"True," Rodney agreed. "They could just be recovering in secret, re-building their own technological advances. Like the Hoffans."
"Or the Genii," Ronon reminded.
"Yeah. Listen to him," John advised. He passed a tangled shrub choking with red vines. Paused. Moved back to it. Stared at it a moment. The wind whistled in the structures around him. Leaves scattering as if in fright.
"What?" Rodney stopped by him. "Vegetation. Fascinating," he quipped. Moved on.
"Why here? Why only here?" John asked, glancing round. The rest of the ground was devoid of any kind of plant life. Cleared for the structures. Only brown grass remained. And yellow leaves clustering as the wind blew them.
"What are they hiding?" Ronon asked, coming to same conclusion as John.
"Exactly. Help me." They pulled at the shrubs, the red vines. The plants weren't rooted to the ground and came away easily. Away from a double door set at an angle into the ground. Appearing clean, as if it was in use, or had been in use recently.
"Okay...but that proves nothing," Rodney stated. Glanced round nervously. The wind soughed among the iron towers, creating an odd disharmony of sound. Leaves fluttered.
"It could be a shelter from the Wraith," Teyla agreed. "Several societies have such hidden places. This proves nothing."
"Maybe," John agreed, "but let's find out, shall we?" He grabbed one handle. Ronon grabbed the other. The men pulled. Pulled. With a creaking scream that sounded too loud the double doors parted. Revealed a square of darkness. Dust motes glittered in the sunlight. A few leaves flew into the opening, propelled by the wind.
"Should I mention now how I hate going underground?"
"No," John said to Rodney. He flicked on the P90's light. Illuminated a set of steep stairs. He glanced at his team. Began to descend cautiously. Quietly. Step by step.
*******************************************************************
Moira crouched on the ridge, eyes glued to the camcorder's zoom lens as she filmed, observed. Two of the canine-like striped animals were lying in the sun. One yawned. Displaying an elongated jaw full of sharp teeth. Their tawny coats nearly melted into the brown grasses and yellow leaves proliferating on the ground.
Small ears flicked hearing sounds that Moira could not. Thin tails swished in the short grass. The second animal stood, revealing its long legs, thin, long body. Brindled coat of brown stripes on the paler tawny fur. The animal circled, then settled again. Undisturbed.
"Anything?" Evan Lorne asked, crouching beside her. He nodded politely to their guide, glanced to see Aaron Josephes and Steve Clarkson as they stood near. Stances casual, but covertly flanking them. Eyes scanning the scenery. Aaron was looking round with interest, eyes darting to Moira as soft exclamations escaped her. Steve appeared bored, but dutifully regarded the terrain in case any threat presented itself.
"Yes!" Moira exclaimed. "Evan, Evan, I think these really are thylacines! Thylacinus cynocephalus! Also known as the Tasmanian tiger but it is a Tasmanian pouched wolf! I can't see the marsupial pouch yet but otherwise the superficial resemblance is astounding! We have to gather tissue and blood samples to be sure! If these are thylacines we will need to secure a few breeding pairs to reintroduce them to their natural and original enviro–"
"Slow down, Moira. One step at a time," Evan chastised, but smiled at her enthusiasm.
"These animals. They are predators...prey upon our sheep and goats. They are scarce in your world?" the guide asked, looking askew at Moira.
"Very," Evan answered, amused at the guide's utter bewilderment.
Moira glanced at them. "They were rendered extinct by over-hunting! Needless slaughtering by ranchers. Oh! You're not killing them, are you? Please, please don't tell me you are killing them!" she said, horror in her brown eyes.
"No...we usually scare them off...they are hard to catch."
"Good! Good, you mustn't kill them! You mustn't!" she scolded. "You can't blame them for going after easy prey, since their natural prey is nonexistent here. I think. Unless you also have kangaroos or wallabies? Do you? Do you know the population density?" she asked, not pausing for an answer between questions.
"She means how many are there," Evan translated to the guide's quizzical look.
"Several. At least fifty or more. They are a nuisance but keep to the hills beyond our fields mostly. Except when we graze our herds there. Then there is trouble."
"Excellent!" Moira said, oblivious to the implied approval of their troubles. "We need to get closer, Evan! We need samples to comprise a full genetic code to compare for exact analysis. No doubt there have been adaptations to this specific planet and climate since this isn't Tasmania or even Western Australia, after all. Not an island in any sense...and we need a composite of the existing population to select which ones we can reintroduce."
"You wish to take them to your world?"
"Yes! Only a few, to repopulate their former indigenous environment." She stood, finally lowering the camcorder. "We're not placing them in zoos, Evan," she strenuously stated, as if he had suggested it. "We are going to reintroduce them to their natural habitat. Wild. The way they should be, like they are here. I'm sure the authorities will make them a protected species."
"One step at a time, Moira," Evan repeated, amused. "Why don't we get closer first?" He gestured and the two marines began to take point.
"Yes. Follow me. Evan,"she enthused, "this is a Lazarus Effect! When a species previously believed to be extinct is suddenly discovered to be extant after decades, after years!"
"Like the coelacanth?"
"Exactly! This is incredible!" Moira turned to the guide. "These hills where the packs congregate. Where are they, exactly?"
"This way. I have never seen such excitement over an animal before," the guide commented.
Evan smiled. "You have no idea."
**********************************************************************
John led his team deeper into the shadows. Descending the stairs as they curved round, hugging the dirt wall. Lights shone on debris. Broken pieces of furniture. Abandoned supplies. Dust puffed with every footstep.
"We have gone three levels down, colonel. Obviously there is nothing here," Teyla stated. The annoyance pronounced in her voice. A sneeze escaped her.
"Nothing. No energy readings, no pulses, nothing," Rodney confirmed. "No traces of anything even resembling technology. I'm with Teyla, John. There's nothing here."
"Maybe..." John couldn't shake the nagging suspicion. Despite the dust and debris the stairs were clean. Clear. As if ready for use. Despite the stagnant air they were breathing. He entered another large, wide chamber. "Bingo."
"Bingo? What the..." Rodney's voice faltered as he shoved past John to stare.
The bunker stretched and stretched. Filled. With barrels. With tables. Lined with guns. Weapons. Teyla stared, speechless. Ronon searched the wall, found a switch. Bulbs flickered, casting a yellow glow to the cavernous room.
"Are these guns comparable to the ones you saw?" Teyla asked, somewhat chastened.
"Yes." John moved slowly, studying the assembled arsenal. The antiquated yet familiar handguns. "Look at this, Rodney! Tommy-guns! Actual Tommy-guns!"
"Who is Tommy and why is that his gun?" Ronon asked.
"Like the gangsters used in the nineteen twenties? Wow." Rodney fingered one.
"These weapons are familiar to you?" Teyla asked.
"Too familiar," John commented. He lifted one, turned it over in his hands. Sighted along the barrel. Checked the ammunition. "If I didn't know better I'd say these were from nineteen twenty-three, Earth. And almost brand new."
"Replicas?" Rodney asked.
"Exact replicas. Look! The materials, the design...how can you explain that?" John asked. He hefted the weapon again, felt its weight.
"Are you saying these weapons are from Earth?" Teyla asked.
"That's impossible," Rodney scoffed. "How in the world could the Pegasus galaxy acquire weapons from nineteen twenties Earth? By then the Ancients were gone, either wiped out by the Wraith or ascended."
"I know...but the evidence is right here, Rodney," John argued. He set the weapon down. Moved on to view more. "Hey, maybe we can find a speakeasy and get a drink," he jested.
"Nah. Prohibition, remember? We need to run some moonshine," Rodney quipped. The two men shared a laugh.
"Speakeasy? Moonshine?" Ronon asked, shaking his head.
Teyla shrugged. "This must be more Earth slang. Even I cannot follow it sometimes." The two exchanged a bemused glance.
"Those cavemen on M1M436 were carrying these kind of weapons, remember?" John explained, pausing to examine a machine gun. "When I saw the gun here the connection clicked."
"But there are no cavemen here. Are there?" Rodney looked round.
"No. Not so far, anyway. But this is the source of the weaponry that Baldy had. The cavemen had. The deformed men had."
"So we found the source of the weaponry. Now what?" Ronon asked.
Rodney snapped his fingers. "Ford! Or rather Ford's men! That's what this is about! That's what you've been chasing all along!"
"Yes," John confirmed. "We may have found their base of operations. Hiding behind this agrarian community. Sound familiar?"
"Why did you not tell us this?" Teyla demanded.
"Because I wasn't sure. Until now."
"Hey, hey, look at this!" Rodney was gesturing wildly from across the room. "This is Ancient tech!" He knelt by a dilapidated device. "Sheppard! Does this look familiar?"
John moved to him, eyed it. "The subsonic controlling device on M1M436?"
"Exactly! Except this one is broken. The crystals are smashed, circuits fried," Rodney noted. He stood. "Still...more evidence."
"The question is what do we do with all of this evidence," Ronon observed. The team eyed each other, debating.
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Moira frowned. "Nothing yet. We may have to wait here awhile." She glanced at the guide. "Are you sure they have been seen here?"
"Yes...in large groups," the guide replied. Yet he glanced at the surrounding hills as if nervous.
Evan's gaze narrowed. He saw Moira's frown. Drew her aside. "What?"
"I don't know. This terrain...it's...it's wrong. Wrong for thylacines. And the animals we saw went in the other direction, I'm sure. And where is the prey? Do you see any sheep or goats? Or even deer, any herbivores?"
"Major Lorne." Aaron joined them. "I can't contact Clarkson. He was flanking right but I've got no visual. And he's not answering his radio."
"Great." Evan tapped his earpiece. "Clarkson, report. Clarkson, what's your twenty?" Silence.
"Sir!"
Evan turned. Saw a group of people heading for them. With markedly different clothing than the villagers, than the guide who was slowly sidestepping away from them. The newcomers held guns. "Great." He raised his gun as did Aaron. "Moira! Hold position!"
"What? I...oh..." Moira froze behind the men, distracted from her search of the distance. She watched the advancing strangers.
"That's close enough!" Evan ordered. "Stand down! What's the meaning of this? Hey!" He glanced to the guide but the man was rapidly moving away from them. Evan returned his gaze to the advancing men. "This is your last warning! Stand down or we will fire!" He clicked off the safety. "Moira, stay behind us," he advised. "If they fire we go over the ridge. Got it?"
"Yes, Evan."
Gunfire erupted. Aaron fell, screaming as blood spurted. "No! We need them alive! We need her!" one shouted. Evan fired, but a stun blast knocked him to the ground.
Moira fell to her knees, scrambled to Aaron. Blood gushed from his gut. "No, no! Aaron, hold on!" She yanked off her jacket to staunch the wound. Looked up as the men advanced. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" She hit the earpiece hidden by her hair. "John! Sweetie, sweetie, copy?" she muttered, head bowed to conceal her words. "Death Star two." She shut it off, yanked it from her ear to shove into her pants pocket. Huddled over Aaron still she pressed her jacket into the wound.
"You. We need you."
Moira looked to see one man pointing at her. "No! You can't just leave..." She was pulled to her feet. Glanced frantically at Aaron, at Evan who was unconscious on the ground. Leaves blowing and piling around his inert body. "Help him! He'll die if you don't help–"
"Not my concern. Bring her!"
"No! No!" Moira was dragged from the men. "Evan! Aaron! Who are you? What do you want? Let go! Let go of me! Let–" A blast wracked her body. Made her drop to the ground.