~ Out Of Time ~
Author's Note: This story takes place in early S2, when Ronon has had limited experience as a team member. It is before Teyla calls Sheppard 'John'.
Minor reference is made to my story, Dark & Dreary. It is not necessary to read DD first.
Another Author's Note follows the story.
Word Count: 5348
Characters: Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon.
Warning: Minor reference to Thirty-Eight Minutes.
Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.
SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA
John Sheppard settled in the pilot seat and began his pre-flight check. He mostly tuned out the chatter on his right ~ the non-stop grumbling by Rodney McKay that was accompanying the physicist's own equipment check.
"This is a waste of my valuable time," McKay was saying as he opened his laptop, "and it is not a mission. Our job is to find ZedPMs, not cattle rustlers." He sputtered in disgust. "We need technology. These people consider the fork to be an innovation."
"They're friends, McKay," John emphasized patiently. "And they need our help. Every trip through the Gate doesn't have to have a self-serving, technological goal."
McKay flipped some switches on the console and checked his laptop and handscanner. "So, we're going to look for Ferdinand in order to maintain relations. Do you even remember this place and how long ~ and through what ~ it took to walk to the first village? The missing livestock were probably sucked into a marsh. And I hope your friends," he turned his head to address Teyla, "contacted Pegasus Pest Control because there are dive-bombing insects on the planet the size of lounge chairs."
"That's why we're taking the Jumper," John offered.
Rodney huffed. "If we can manage to navigate through the trees just to get out of the Gate. And once we're above the trees, the umbrella effect of the leaves combined with the thick mist will prevent any useful visual inspection."
"Which is why you're here, Rodney," John maintained. "To adapt the sensors."
Teyla redirected the discussion. "Sarsu has assured me they have cleared enough foliage in front of the Gate. It will grow back. The landscape helps protect them from the Wraith."
"It also keeps them in the Dark Ages," McKay added.
"Their way of life is a choice," Teyla stated. "Their world has very few dangers for those who know it. The climate allows limited crop growth year-round so they are mostly self-sufficient. Restricted trading means they are not well known and will not draw unfriendly attention." She allowed, "Lack of technology does hinder their ability to investigate this situation."
"Again I make my point that we are not in the business of tracking cows," McKay persisted. "I am not John Wayne."
"Well, as the trail boss of this team," John smiled, "I say we get goin' on this mission."
McKay inserted the last word: "If this were a real mission we would have had a real briefing, at which I would have set forth any number of arguments to confirm this is not a real mission."
"Rodney," John spoke with a firmed voice, "we have to be certain there's not another player."
Teyla nodded. "It is not only animals that have disappeared. Three members of their communities have not been seen since each ventured out to search for missing livestock."
McKay's mouth opened in a silent 'oh'. He swiveled to look behind his seat at Ronon. "You mean raiders?"
The big man shook his head. "I don't think so."
"I agree with Ronon," Teyla concurred. "Raiders have no need for stealth. Whatever is occurring is being done in secrecy; however, there have been some unidentified noises."
"Unidentified noises?" McKay questioned carefully. "What kind of noises are 'unidentified noises'?"
Teyla responded with a steady look. "Sarsu said most of the village has heard the sounds. They are 'unidentified noises' because no one knows what the sounds signify."
Before McKay could form his rebuttal John ended the discussion by keying the radio. "Flight, we're good to go."
SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA
There was just enough space in front of the Gate to clear the Puddle and then go vertical through the gap in the canopy. John had piloted the Jumper very slowly until they were above the trees, then he relaxed and called up the Heads-Up Display. He studied the arc of semi-distant lifesign blobs, which marked the locations of several villages, way off to the right. "Where to, Teyla?"
"Straight ahead. It is quite a distance. The villages are situated where the land provides the most protection. The animals gravitate toward higher ground, where there is more open grassland."
John kept the puddlejumper on a slow, steady course through mist and over leaves so uniform and plentiful that the dense tree canopies presented like solid ground.
Ronon came forward to peer through the front window. "I see the advantage. Darts can't be used. Plenty of time for the locals to hide when Wraith have to come through the Gate on foot. If the population remains small, Wraith probably won't bother."
"You're up, McKay. We're looking for- what are they?" John angled the question over his shoulder at Teyla.
"They are called martils," Teyla answered. "They look somewhat like your goats but are slightly larger."
McKay snorted. "Instead of looking for cows, we're looking for nanny goats. Still a waste of my time." He bent over his laptop and began to type with a flurry of keystrokes.
Teyla argued, "Martils are very important to Sarsu's people because they provide food, clothing, and varied construction materials. It is their coats. Strands of martil hair can be combined with flexible threads from native trees and plants. The resulting fabrics are water resistant and extremely durable."
McKay was typing and monitoring panels on the console. He commented absently, "I've never tasted goat meat."
"Martils are too valuable to eat," Teyla clarified. "They provide milk products. Other beasts fulfill dietary needs."
"I've heard goat milk is...interesting." McKay finished with a couple key-taps and looked up. "That should do it." He pushed a button to restrict the search area. "Without an exact biosignature to scan for I can only set criteria for approximate weight and size. I assume most animals are not going to be found in herds."
John reached across the console to shift the search area on the screen. "I'm not seein' anything."
"And what will you do when you do see something?" Rodney asked distractedly. He studied the HUD and murmured, "Huh. I can broaden the parameters," and frowned as he typed. "Personally, I forgot my lasso," he finished with light snark.
The ground rose and the trees thinned, giving way to misty clearings of grass and waterways. John was still navigating the Jumper slowly through low clouds to allow for some visual examination. Something dashed across the HUD, appearing at the right side of the display and disappearing across the lower edge.
"At least one of the things is in the area," McKay remarked.
"Martils cannot run that fast," Teyla responded.
"Maybe a bird," Ronon suggested.
McKay scoffed, "The size of a goat?" He sighed in exasperation before lecturing, "I broadened the parameters. That means anything that is generally the size of a martil will show up. I assume there are other goat-size non-martils on the planet."
"I'm setting down," John suddenly announced.
"Did you see something?" McKay tapped buttons on the console to move the coverage of the scan. "Nothing shows up."
"I wanna check on something. Look." John pointed at the view through the window. Trees, mist, rising ground and open spaces, but there were also signs of centered decay and sickness, dying trees and brush. "Find me some solid ground, McKay."
Rodney sniffed. "The term 'solid' has a very fluid meaning on this planet, pun intended. The whole jungle is filled with sinkholes. Giant trees disappear. The speed of re-growth is what maintains the jungle's density." After typing and checking the console and handscanner, McKay pointed. "There. It's relatively solid, but I wouldn't stay parked for any length of time."
John guided the little ship to a gentle landing just as another lifeform dot zipped across the HUD. "Anybody actually see it?"
"Only movement," Teyla admitted, "but it is not a martil."
"Okay. Let's go. And step carefully," John cautioned.
SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA
The air outside was warm and muggy. The teammates slowly made their way through tall grass and mushy undergrowth. Teyla, the lightest and the one with the surest step, was in the lead. John had placed her on point, but she was tethered to him by a rope from the Jumper. Ronon brought up the rear, the largest and strongest member of the team in position to pull someone out of a bog if there were any missteps.
The atmosphere was stifling. There was a stillness, as if all movement had been suspended. John heard only the sound of squishy footsteps. "Where are your divebombers, McKay?"
Rodney didn't look up from his handscanner. "Hmm? This doesn't make sense." He tapped buttons on the scanner. "I've allowed pretty much all criteria in order to detect anything above the size of a rat, which makes the range extremely limited, but there's nothing here. And I mean nothing." He looked around. There was a sudden sound, like a howl or perhaps an extended yell. McKay swallowed audibly. "Is anyone expecting Tarzan?"
"Not Burroughs," John contradicted. "Doyle."
McKay clucked in impatience. "Your Hallowe'en costume is going to your head. This is not the Grimpen Mire."
The comment was almost funny. They were in a gloomy expanse of marshy land, made eerie by obscuring patches of mist. The trees at the edge of the clearing were bare of leaves and any color. Everything around them exuded an unnatural air. The unidentifiable wail added to the otherworldliness of the experience. The scene before them could have come directly from the book.
"Colonel." Teyla stopped and pointed.
Just ahead, off to the left, were skeletal remains, numerous pieces of varying sizes widely scattered over the spongy ground.
Ronon studied the evidence of violent death. "Maybe not a new player. A predator." He took a step toward the bones and knelt. "And more than one kind of prey." He slowly examined the ground. "More than one predator."
John looked at Teyla. "D'you know of any beast that could do this?" When she shook her head he turned to Rodney. "You're not detecting any lifesigns in the immediate area?"
Before McKay could answer, the ground shuddered in a gentle roll that made them all stagger to maintain balance.
"What was that?!" Rodney exclaimed wide-eyed.
Teyla straightened after resettling her feet on sure ground. "There have been tremors on this world for as long as anyone can remember. Sarsu did say they have become more frequent."
"McKay, what're you doin'?" John demanded. The man had excitedly snapped his fingers repeatedly before madly tapping buttons on the handscanner.
"Checking pH." McKay fished a probe from a pocket, connected it to the scanner, and handed the tethered peg to Teyla. "Reach out as far as you can and barely dip this in water."
"That would certainly explain a few things," John admitted.
Teyla had left the path. She stretched to lean over and gather the water sample, then stepped gingerly to return to the path and hand over the probe. "Could a herd of martils disappear in the soft ground, in one of those sinkholes? Although we cannot see very much of it, this soft area must be very large."
McKay was tapping buttons again. "There are holes the size of aircraft carriers-" He stopped and restated, "...the size of villages, so yes, they'd fit, but they wouldn't all conveniently disappear together all at once." He looked at John. "Four."
"What is 'four'?" Ronon wanted to know.
"It's a scale to identify the acidity of water," John replied. "Below seven is acidic. Smaller numbers mean stronger acids."
Ronon nodded and offered his observations. "This path we're taking was made by animals, not overly large, passing single file. The path is old, well worn, but not used lately."
John considered before speaking. "Acidity is rising, plants are dying, so this is no longer the local watering hole."
Rodney agreed. "It ties in with increasing recent seismic activity. The martils have simply found another water source." He shoved the handscanner into a pocket. "Why don't we go back to the Jumper and saddle up so we can expand our search and look for a bunch of goats and a new pond. Yee-haw."
John stared into the concealing mist that encircled them. "What about the missing people?"
McKay paused. "They could be out there anywhere, following the goats. Or, if the landscape is changing, they could have gotten lost in the mist or fallen into a bog."
"All three of them?" John raised an eyebrow and looked over at the strewn bones. "Now that bothers me."
A deep, unidentifiable yowl sounded in the mist. The dampening effect of the fog made it difficult to triangulate, but for John it was all too close for comfort. "That's it. Let's go."
Teyla took the lead again. They made good time until they heard a quick rhythm of something approaching in the white; whatever-it-was was coming toward them ~ fast. John stepped to the front of the team and raised his P90. He heard Ronon's blaster power up behind him. A shadow passed by in the swirling mist, off to the right, then a retreating pat...pat...pat tapered off. The ghostly figure had taken a route directly over the same quagmire their own path had carefully circumscribed.
"Move, McKay." Ronon slapped Rodney on the back.
John stayed in the lead, trying to maintain a safe, quick pace. There was another eerie cry, then a complicated tattoo of pat-pat-pat of a group of entities rushing somewhere in the mist. The ground suddenly shook in a jolt, once, twice, three times.
"That was not a tremor!" McKay squawked.
An unnatural bellow cut through the mist. The ground shuddered. John heard the sound of frantic wailing and crashing vegetation. Something moaned and creaked in an inhuman sigh.
"Ronon!" John called the big man to his side and they both ran with their weapons at the ready. The Jumper wasn't far, but John had a bad feeling about what they'd find. He checked over his shoulder to see Teyla had dropped back in order to place a hand on McKay's shoulder to help him maintain their speed.
The Jumper came into view and John didn't even slow down. "Stay here!" he ordered and kept running, right up over the front window, the angle of which had flattened because the craft was sinking, rear-end first. John activated the hatch while balancing on the top of the ship. Swamp gases bubbled and moaned and the Jumper lurched sidewise as it slipped deeper into the marsh. John nearly toppled into the bog; he slid over the hull but managed a tenuous grasp on a ridge. Dangling from the side, fingers notching the ridge, he sidled to the rear. Soft earth had prevented the hatch from fully lowering. With mud oozing into the Jumper John squeezed through the gap and dropped into the rear compartment. The ship automatically powered up when he touched down.
John raced to the pilot seat. He channeled additional mental effort to free the Jumper from the bog's hold, then guided the stern toward his teammates. He turned to watch Teyla spring onto the still-lowering hatch. She reached down to help Rodney just as a loud roar resounded. Even the ground trembled. McKay lost his grip and staggered back. A form darted from the fog, slamming into him before disappearing in the mist. Ronon steadied McKay and then shoved the man onto the ramp before leaping onto the hovering platform himself. "Go!" he shouted.
John slapped the button to close the ramp. He began the careful vertical lift to take the Jumper above the trees and mist.
McKay, wide-eyed and panting, plopped into the co-pilot seat. "Did you see that thing? It nearly knocked me down!"
"Yeah." To John it had looked like a man-size, upright lizard.
"Welcome to Jurassic Park," McKay breathed. "I guess we know what happened to the goats."
John shook his head. "I'm more worried about what it was running from because it wasn't interested in you."
McKay's eyes widened in understanding just as the Jumper's gentle rise jerked to a halt. The ship was yanked backward, down and to the left. John urged power from the drive-pods and manipulated the stern, side-to-side in a fishtail. "Get me some intel, McKay! What's out there?!"
Rodney hunched over his laptop and barely had time to tap one key before the Jumper was released and was catapulted straight up above the treetops. "We made it!" McKay crowed, his joyous exclamation competing with an external angry roar.
"Not so fast." John flipped console switches. The Jumper was spiraling in a slow-motion descent. "Left pod isn't responding."
McKay mewled and began typing again. "I can't do anything. It's not a matter of power. There's physical damage and we'd have to land to see if I can fix it."
"Can you shut it down?" John directed energy into the inertial dampeners. "I can maintain enough lift to keep us from crashing but I can't control the roll with the left pod misfiring."
McKay tapped some buttons and flipped switches. "I can't isolate the left drive-pod because of the damage."
If the uneven roll couldn't be controlled, they wouldn't be able to make it safely through the Gate. John made the decision. "Shut 'em both down and find me a place to land."
McKay typed and the Jumper went quiet. John steadied the ship's trajectory and concentrated on a gentle decline.
Rodney brought up the HUD with a representation of the landscape without mist. "Can you reach that?" He pointed to a distant wide spot, much farther along the path they had previously been exploring. "It should be fairly secure."
"Got it. Far edge of the Grimpen Mire." John almost smiled when he heard McKay huff in disgust at the literary name.
SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA
It wasn't the smoothest landing he'd ever made, but John considered there'd been no damage to the ship or his people so the landing had been a good one. The Jumper sat at the edge of the bog, with a slight list that indicated the path wasn't quite wide enough for a solid runway so the hull was resting just a little on the softer surface of the mushy clearing. Trees close to the ship were ailing and some had fallen onto the marsh. The ambient temperature had risen a few degrees since their arrival, making the air suffocating, but the mist had begun to thin in places.
"Talk to me, McKay," John ordered. He had stationed Teyla and Ronon outside to be on the watch for trouble. While McKay worked on the defective pod, John was cutting up the plastic case that held one of the Jumper's standard-issue firearms. There had been no more 'unidentified sounds' nor any further motion in the shadows, and so far no more tremors of any kind, but John knew anything could be waiting beyond the mist.
Rodney lowered the diagnostic tool with poorly-disguised ill humor. "That is the third time in..." -he checked his watch- "eleven minutes you want to know how things are going."
"So, how's it going?" John asked and kept working on his own project. He punched holes in the plastic and threaded ties. He was hoping to create a snowshoe, or 'marshshoe'. Whatever had traversed the mire had to have a natural footgear.
"I've disconnected the left pod's power so you'll be able to fly straight with only the one pod. Single-pod propulsion could be an issue but I can divert from other systems. The problem is to retract the mangled pod manually so we'll fit in the Gate." McKay glanced over and John knew the expression ~ being stuck should be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, never to be repeated. Rodney continued, "I'll be finished when I'm finished. Now, let me work." After a pause he asked, "What are you working on?"
"Insurance."
"What is 'insurance'?" Rodney queried suspiciously.
"Something we won't have to use if you get that drive-pod retracted in time."
"No pressure," McKay groused and bent over his laptop.
"Colonel."
Before responding to Teyla's summons John pointed at McKay. "Let me know when you're finished."
When John walked down the ramp Teyla silently indicated multiple shapes that were poorly visible through the swirling mist. Even with the lack of detail John now knew his team had encountered at least three different types of creatures. The ones before him seemed like a cross between a giant salamander and a snowshoe rabbit. Reptilian, nearly man-size, they had wide, flat tails and large hind feet with webbed digits, which allowed them to stay atop the insubstantial marshy ground. They were grazing on the small plants that grew on the surface of the bog. If their primary mode of travel was a hop or 'bounce', it explained the repeating pat-pat-pat sound. This was not the creature that had run into McKay. The third creature in the mist had to be tall enough to grab the Jumper in flight and its footsteps had shaken the ground, indicating it was many times larger than a man.
"Sheppard." Ronon was still scanning the edge of the disappearing mist. "This one's a predator," he rumbled softly.
John could barely make out the beast's outline, but it looked like the creature that had bumped into McKay. It was interested in the foragers on the marsh, studying them from a distance and apparently unwilling to step onto the soggy ground.
"That's the one that hit me."
John looked over his shoulder. McKay had come to the end of the ramp. "You finished?" John quietly inquired, then slowly turned back to monitor the danger before them.
Rodney spoke absently. "Not quite, but this is really something, isn't it?" He was looking in awe at the various beasts. "At least it explains why they didn't show up on sensors. I was looking for a hairy goat-thing, not a cold-blooded dinosaur. It would be interesting to study the differences with the Earth versions."
Without taking his eye off the predator John replied quietly, "Now is not the time, McKay." He heard Rodney step back up the ramp, but the predator's interest had already shifted. "Crap."
"The cloak still works," McKay offered, halfway up the ramp.
Quietly but firmly John answered, "Forget cloaking. It has a sense of smell and it can hear you. Just get to work."
McKay retreated carefully and a moment later Ronon pointed out that another predator had joined the first. The big man drew his blaster silently from its holster.
John didn't know if the mist would have provided help or hindrance, but as it thinned it left them in full view. He set the makeshift 'marshshoes' on the ground and leaned over slowly to attach the right shoe to his boot with the ties.
Teyla slowly backed toward him, always facing the bog. "I will do it. I am the smallest and fastest." When John made no move to accede to her proposition she added, "Only you can fly the Jumper in its current damaged condition."
John finally nodded. "It's just insurance." As he sidestepped away from the jerry-rigged plastic footwear he assured, "I'm only worried about the big one. Godzilla. Maybe he's gone."
Teyla raised an eyebrow at his comments, then she stepped on the flat, makeshift shoes and leaned down to tie them to her boots. Her actions were slow and careful. Ronon still hadn't moved. The predators' stares were fixed in the teammates' direction because they were the only accessible prey on solid ground.
The air was hard to breathe. Sweat trickled down the back of John's neck. He felt again the preternatural stillness, broken only by the small movements and sounds of the foragers.
Something metallic snapped. McKay called, "I'm finished!" and chaos erupted. With an eerie howl a third lizard suddenly appeared, to rush down the path toward the Jumper. Startled foragers scattered, bounding overtop the marshland to escape into the forested area surrounding the clearing. While Ronon fired at the first lizard ~ four blasts, five, head on ~ to take the beast down, the next two lizards came charging along the path, their interest still focused on the team. John barked, "McKay, power up the Jumper!" and joined Teyla in P90-fire.
A bellowing roar echoed through the air. The remaining two lizards changed direction mid-step and darted into the trees. The ground shook. John heard vegetation being smashed and another fearsome roar. "Ronon! Into the Jumper! Teyla, head to the far end of the marsh, straight down the middle. Go!"
Once in the pilot seat John ordered McKay to bring up the HUD and find a way to monitor both Teyla and Godzilla while John concentrated on taking off from unstable ground, lifting with only one drive-pod, and balancing with the muddy hatch open.
"Talk to me, McKay!" John hoped the insurance was working. He'd sent Teyla essentially to run down the middle of a football field with enough head-start and speed of her own to keep ahead of Godzilla, assuming it went after her.
McKay was tapping buttons. "She's doing okay. It's not her usual speed, but wearing those things... Maybe Godzilla doesn't see her so it won't go after her."
After a very slow, careful takeoff John was guiding the puddlejumper low-and-slow at the edge of the clearing. "I want it to go after her. That's the whole idea." John just hoped the bog was deep enough if Godzilla did take the plunge. John angled the ship to the left and headed over the mire to intercept Teyla. She was making far better time than he could have on marshshoes.
"It sees us," Ronon stated. He was leaning out the open hatch to keep an eye on his teammate and the huge beast. "It's watching Teyla, but she might be too small to consider."
"She was only meant to keep attention off us while we were dead on the ground," John acknowledged. "Get ready."
John eased the Jumper to hover in position ahead of Teyla; Ronon reached down to help her onto the ramp. With an angry bellow the huge beast entered the mire and the marsh undulated, causing a rise of soft groundcover to strike the lowered hatch. Ronon dropped Teyla into the bog. The wave had disrupted the top foliage and without continuous grasses and tangled roots to form a soft crust, Teyla had no firm purchase ~ she was going under. John settled the Jumper nearly atop the bog and Ronon tried again, but Godzilla's actions ~ sinking, but still wading in ~ were causing repeated movement of the mud, which kept buffeting the hatch. John took the ship vertical and Ronon dropped down to hang by his arms and offer his boots as a lifeline. Teyla grabbed hold and Ronon shouted, "Go!" just as Godzilla reached forward with small, outstretched arms- It missed and sank, so that only the tail tip was visible, whipping back and forth until the monstrous creature finally disappeared under the spongy surface.
John looked over his shoulder. "Everyone okay?" Teyla lacked her usual grace as she climbed over Ronon while wearing the marshshoes. She crawled onto the ramp and made her way to sit on a rear bench to remove the shoes. Once Ronon hoisted himself onto the ramp, John pushed the button to close the hatch.
"We do have ropes." Rodney eyed the growing mess on the floor as Teyla sluiced murky water and debris off her clothes.
"No time," Ronon answered, closing the subject. He flicked mud and marsh bits off his person before settling in his seat.
McKay didn't make a disgruntled comeback because John intervened by requesting geological information. Rodney checked the HUD and tapped on the console. "What are we doing?"
"Godzilla didn't come through the Gate." John raised his brow. "So how'd those guys get here?"
McKay was typing keys on the scanner and his laptop. He checked the console and re-configured the HUD. "Well, the good news is that I scanned the bones at the bog and found martil remains and now that I know exactly what I'm looking for I have broadened the scope and there's a lot of hairy goats in the opposite direction so I assume they're smart enough not to drink bad water and to stay away from dinosaurs. See?" The HUD indicated a few scattered dots near a large group. Rodney typed more keys and pushed buttons and brought up a different screen. "The bad news is over these mountains." He pointed to a line on the display. "Think lava and Hawai'ian Islands."
The Jumper guided easily up the gentle slope. John followed the fault, to slip through the ridge and down the other side. Before them was a broad expanse of ocean, as far as the eye could see. McKay typed and brought up a map showing another land mass, dwarfing the one on which the Gate stood. Bridging the masses was an uneven strip, edged by steaming, oozing lava.
"This is a dozen Kilaueas on steroids," McKay observed softly. "Hawai'i has had thirty major earthquakes since the 1860s and the Islands grow in acreage every month. Lava has been clocked at 10 kilometers an hour. This is off-scale."
John piloted the Jumper along the path, following the active flow to the next continent. They flew over a cliff and into lush surroundings. "I was right. It's Doyle," John uttered in awe.
McKay was almost speechless. "Yeah."
The view in the Jumper window was a page from Earth's history, a moment out of time, millions of years in the past. Heavy mist was interrupted by Redwood-size trees that had enormous fronds. In the distance a cousin of a brontosaurus nibbled at the ferny leaves. Large, flight-capable reptilian-looking birds soared above the giant trees. Lava steamed in the humid jungle.
Even taking into account his recent experiences in Pegasus, John found the vista to be surreal. "How could these things still be thriving here?" he wondered aloud.
"Earth dinosaurs might still be the dominant species if the planet hadn't undergone a cataclysmic event to precipitate their extinction." McKay paused and muttered, "Makes you wonder how well the Wraith would fare if they were stuck in Dinoland. They certainly wouldn't be at the top of the food chain."
"Why would the Ancestors put the Gate on a world where humans have to compete with these creatures?" Ronon asked.
Rodney went into lecture mode. "The planet clearly sustains life, which, we assume, was the primary criterion for planting a Gate and people. The Ancients had no reason to believe people would be in danger, although they should have taken a landbridge into account, considering how much the planet is still changing. Which means this is another one of their mistakes."
John guided the Jumper in a turn and headed back to sea.
"What are you going to do?" McKay wanted to know.
"Destroy the bridge." John fired drones as he took the little ship low along the volcanic path. "That oughta do it." He pulled up on the controls to fly over the ridge. "Sarsu's people need to know about the predators, but I think Godzilla was alone."
McKay was shaking his head. "This world will soon be uninhabitable, but you may have bought them time." He tapped more buttons to display computer-generated projections of future bridge-rebuilding lava flows and volcanic activity.
"I like time," John declared.
Teyla asked, "Will we be able to relocate Sarsu's people?"
John pointed in Teyla's direction and nodded. "See? If we have time we can relocate people and martils and maybe some of those plants and trees that are so important."
"Not on this planet," McKay advised. "According to scans there are dinosaurs on every land mass and the whole place is becoming more active, volcanically speaking. Another landbridge will be formed in a matter of years."
John insisted, "Time enough to find another world." *~*
. . .
Author's Note: Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950) is the creator of Tarzan (and other adventure/sci-fi icons). The first Tarzan story was published in 1912.
The Grimpen Mire is the major setting for The Hound of the Baskervilles (1901), probably the best known of the Sherlock Holmes stories by Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930).
At the end of this tale Sheppard and Rodney are referring to The Lost World (1912), a novel by Doyle that tells the story of a small group of explorers who discover that prehistoric creatures still live on an isolated plateau in the Amazon.
Jurassic Park (1990) is a novel by Michael Crichton (1942-2008) and is the source material for several films.
An American football field is a rectangle measuring 160 feet (48.5 m) wide and 360 feet (109 m) long.
'Godzilla' is a Pegasus cousin of tyrannosaurus rex. Fossils indicate t-rex was about 40 feet (12 m) high and 20 feet long (6 m). The brontosaurus, with its long neck and tail, measured about 80 feet long (~24 m).
Kilauea, on the Big Island of Hawai'i, is the youngest volcano on the island and is the most active volcano in the world. It is 4,190 feet (1,227 m) high and is part of Volcanoes National Park.
Redwood trees grow to be over 350 feet (107 m) tall. In a warmer and more humid climate in the distant past, redwoods grew throughout North America, Europe and Asia. Today they are limited to the Pacific Coast of California and Oregon.
Sherlock Holmes is one of the most portrayed, filmed, interpreted, referenced and imitated characters from literature. Some other literary characters that have entered popular culture are Tarzan, Dracula, Alice in Wonderland, Frankenstein's Monster, Conan the Barbarian and Zorro.
Sheppard's Holmes costume in my story Dark & Dreary actually kick-started this tale. I had always wanted to do a dinosaur SGA story, but no plot ever fully formed. Holmes, mist, mire... dinosaurs. And this story was born.
I give thanks to my parents, who are the best people I've ever known, and further thanks go to Iuvsbruce, who still answers the phone, even when she's dealing with her own 'crap'.
Feedback is always appreciated.
Unless I have a sudden Bright Idea, this is it for 2017. Thanks for reading.
