Thanks for the reviews. I should be preparing for my exams but I just had to write more for you.
Oh, and if somebody feels a little bit familiar with the mission Carlos talked about, I got an inspiration from one of the stories I have read, but I can't remember its title. If it's your story, sorry for not asking prior to publishing. It just felt right to use it there. O:-)
Now on with the story:
Ruins on the planet. Rodney and Sarah had already finished the initial examination of the entrance and had moved inside the building where they had found other carved Ancient letters, but these were completed with symbols which looked rather decorative. They kept arguing throughout the translation because of nonsenses like if it was in present or future tense as it could mean something else in different phrasal structures. Rodney was so sure he was right, he wouldn't admit a defeat no matter what. He had never been wrong! He was always, almost always, right. Well, only according to himself. Others knew he wasn't a perfect infallible Superman but still, he had pulled miracles out of his pocket and had been their Sydney Carton a few times…
Anyway, right then he shined his torch on the wall again to check the inscription, they had been working on, once again. He was perplexed; not that he would admit that. Sarah had thought this was important but he wasn't so sure.
"It's utter nonsense," he muttered silently before facing Sarah. "Look at this. It seems to be saying 'Total Fear Will Be Walking Interior'. It's ridiculous."
She defended herself: "I thought it might be of importance when it is repeated several times along the corridor." She sounded perturbed when finishing with: "I have translated it to 'Beware All Who Enter'."
Rodney responded: "Well, yes, if you read all the symbols completely wrong." He showed her his data pad. "These 5 symbols represent the noun 'fear', metus, not the verb 'beware' - entirely different symbols. Moreover, they've used future tense of 'to walk', not the infinitive of 'to enter'. Although they may look the same, there are two different symbols, see? And the word 'interior' looks as if it was from a more modern dialect." Rodney clutched the pad to his chest and rubbed his forehead. "It's all utter hogwash!"
"But…" Sarah tried, "…they might have meant to say 'Beware all who enter'…"
Rodney snorted. "Then it would have said that, wouldn't it? This is all just gibberish! As if someone used the Internet to translate a sentence, not even bothering to cross-translate it to see the result! Only a moron would try to find a meaning in this lunacy!"
Sarah didn't bother with his last comment. She kneeled down to her small pack and fished a camera. Then she took a few photos and thought that once they returned, Elizabeth or somebody, who wasn't so snobbish, would tell her who had been right. Then she realised something was odd. She looked at her watch to find out they were due for a check-in in five minutes and they had promised to report their progress in. And their progress was currently in her hands even though it should have been with Allan.
"You know what? I need fresh air. Do whatever you want, I'll be back as soon as I check in with others."
Rodney hummed something but didn't reply properly. Sarah turned her head, returned back to daylight and shouldered her backpack. She didn't plan on returning too soon and this was an awesome excuse she couldn't miss. Allan was already gone so she strode away by herself, settling in a pace which would take her to the Gate rather quickly.
Meanwhile, Rodney moved further into the corridor. He shone his light along rows of pretty but pointless symbols. Some of them seemed to form words, a logical syntax, but the rest of them was just 'wrong'. "It's as if someone didn't want to make it obvious for a normal reader," Rodney said out loud. "And added some useless graffiti to make it harder."
He involuntarily shivered in the cool damp air filling the corridor and pulled his jacket closer around his torso. Having to run before the Wraith could catch him and start to feed, and evading ambushes had taken their prize – his formerly tight jacket had become loose-fitting.
The weather conditions inside the corridor were a bit worse than outside in the ruins because what little sunshine was out there didn't penetrate in the building. "It makes no sense," Rodney complained again but he noticed Sarah wasn't with him anymore. He started to panic but then he remembered her saying she needed to leave. Or something like that.
He leant one shoulder against the wall and contemplated the situation he had got into. He was lucky he didn't push a certain glyph, but at that time nobody knew what it was for… And there were some drawings covering the proper Ancient texts; maybe it was another language, who knew?
"What is this all about?" he asked the air around him because he knew no-one would hear him and answer.
He exhaled deeply. Right now he could have been on the sunny surface of the Lantea's mainland. He clearly remembered the lake John had mentioned as he recalled having seen it from a Jumper when their team flew around the mainland after the Storm. He even remembered how Aiden claimed it would be a nice place to hang out. And Teyla who stated that swimming there naked would be very freeing. He wondered if John and Aiden had actually paid any attention to the word 'naked' when they nodded thoughtfully to her comment, or if it was just him who had put another word in her sentence. It would be interesting and maybe quite funny to spend time there, without straight contact with Atlantis but with people he cared about. Not to mention that he was quite familiar with the surroundings as well.
Rodney's heart fell. Once again he felt left out of the loop. He thought that it wouldn't be so bad, were the ruins not so frustrating, was the planet not so damp and drippy, was Dr. Ginger not so … over-sensitive. He would have loved to go with his own team no matter if Teyla brought her swimsuit or someone had to lend it to her. From what he could see during training fights and her clothes, her body was shaped like the statues which were exhibited in Ancient sections of many museums. But he preferred another woman, the one who always saved his ass, the only one who could calm him down in every situation, the only one who could see his real self, caring and soft-hearted but mainly broken and bruised from his childhood.
He thought how nice it would have been to spend a day on the shore of that pretty lake with his team. He hoped he had become one of John's men but maybe he kept pushing them away and it was not bearable for them.
He started drowning in his sorrow so he quickly snapped back to reality without knowing, rather being oblivious to, how long he had been thinking what could have been.
"Well, you've chosen this particular expedition, Rodney," he said aloud. "And you'd best stick with it. Complete the survey and report back. And you might receive a nice gift."
He glanced to the doorway, wondering where Sarah had gone. Then he chided himself for being too anxious and returned to work.
He reached the end of the corridor and realised he had got very far from the entrance of the building because his only light was his small torch and he didn't see a lighter spot behind him. He shone his torch around to get an idea where he was. There were two wooden doors, one at each side of the corridor. He chose the one on his left and opened it by pulling. It led into an oddly shaped room; it looked like a hexagon. All walls were grey, without a tint of another live colour. Right in front of him, there was another door like the one he used to get in. And in the middle there was a white pillar with blue glass atop of it, sitting on a dais. Rodney eyed the room suspiciously, just like John would, and he used the same, John's, tactics to check it. When he found out it was safe, he moved over to the column but didn't step on the dais. He could distinguish Ancient letters on it, and smiled to himself.
"Now we're getting somewhere," he whispered delightedly. To get closer to the pillar, he put one foot on the dais which started glowing blue. Rodney knew something had to be here and there should be some power left. It may have been a research centre, with a ZPM hidden somewhere deep underground. Then he realised he should contact others so he stayed like this and activated his radio. "Listen," he told them, "Captain Jorgenson, Doctor Ginger, I think I've found something you'll want to see."
Allan's tired voice replied: "What is it? More of those damned symbols?"
Rodney decided to step fully on the dais to get even closer so that he could read the letters more easily, and it got even brighter. Even the walls began to emit soft light but Rodney was too concentrated on the column and the conversation to notice.
"I've found a room with what looks like an Ancient column. Send Doctor Ginger. We really need to explore this area thoroughly and…"
The column shone bright white which ricocheted from the walls and formed a thick white field in the entrance. Before Rodney could realise what had just happened, he heard Allan's shout: "Wraith!"
And he heard something buzz in the sky although he was in a hill. Rodney froze, listening to the sound of a Wraith Dart nearby. Shouts of Jorgenson's team mixed with it. "Take cover under trees! Maria, get back to me! Vegaz, get Dr. Ginger to the Gate! Go to the Gate! Run, run! Fall back to the Gate!"
Rodney repeated to himself: "Fall back to the Gate." He turned to see that his only way out was blocked. "No, no, no, NO!" he began. He looked around frantically to find another way out, to get to Jorgenson's team. The door on the other side had vanished so he quickly pulled out his data pad and connected it to the pillar to access this defence mechanism.
"What the heck!" he swore when everything he found was a message of farewell in Ancient. No information about a ZPM, the structure, or its defences. No access codes. No embedded link to something else. Rodney punched the column and cried out in pain when his right hand collided with the hard surface.
The Dart was still within hearing range and painfully reminded him how little time he had.
Rodney cradled his arm, which was still sometimes painful due to Kolya's surgical accuracy, and stepped off the dais. As soon as it didn't sense the presence of the ATA gene, it went dark, the light stopped shining and the white wall in the entrance disappeared. Rodney watched it bewildered, "How could I have been so silly?"
He didn't wait any longer, pulled out all the wires he had connected, and shot through the door and the corridor right to the main entrance where he had left his backpack. He put it on his shoulders and hid in the main entrance, gazing up. He was far from the tree canopy so he needed to make sure the Dart wouldn't get him before he reached the protective leaves. The ruins didn't provide him with enough cover and what was worse, there were dark clouds forming in the sky. Suddenly, the Dart whizzed past right above him. Rodney involuntarily jumped up at the sudden loud screeching noise. He followed it with his eyes until it disappeared behind treetops and then he still counted to ten before he ran to the forest. Another useful/useless habit he had taken from John Sheppard, as he realised when he was safely hidden under trees.
He tried to recall how they had arrived in here because they had chosen a zigzag path which wasn't covered in so much undergrowth. He decided to run straight and not to bother if he got wet as the imminent danger was worse than any kind of mud. He inhaled decisively and began running to the Gate while watching the sky for any sign of the Dart or a culling beam. He rushed through the mossy forest to join his team as soon as possible so that they all could return to Atlantis.
"Shit, damn it, shit, damn it," he muttered between grasping for the too moist air. He tore into the woods without paying much attention to where the path was. All his surroundings were shades of green; olive, bright, dark, pastel, khaki…, they seemed unreal for Rodney. And his fear intensified them so much that it hurt him to watch one spot a little longer. Many times he stopped due to branches, dodging his way through the verdant wood. Moss under his feet was very spongy, being watered almost every day, and where there was none, the ground was slimy with mud. He had to balance a lot to remain on his feet, not to fall and roll down. Any professional skater would be proud of what he was performing.
Nevertheless, it wasn't only the ground which endangered him on this perilous path, not considering the Dart roaming around. Every now and then he was showered by rainwater collected on the foliage, and the flora of this planet had developed huge leaves and low branches, which he considered for nothing but beating him in the face and spraying him with water.
During his frantic dash, he found enough presence of mind to unholster his Glock 9x19mm, but he knew it wouldn't damage the Dart at all. It could, however, slow the Wraith on the ground. He sadly remembered John with a P-90 clipped on his chest and his thigh holster. Both these guns had saved them many times. He longed for John's calming shouts to run, that he covered his six. He longed for the sound of his gunfire. He was feeling so lonely!
He suppressed a pang of grief and self-hatred because he knew he had to return to his current team. He wasn't planning on being the reason why the team stayed in plain sight, waiting.
As he was getting closer to the area of the Gate, he could hear the gunfire of P-90s trying to get down the Dart. He hoped to hear a thud when the Dart was hit and land-crashed. It didn't plummet, to his bad luck, but it flew right above him and he stopped breathing in rapid shallow breaths. He was in a less covered area so he sure as hell didn't want to be caught off-guard. He didn't look where he was going and collided with another branch. It smacked his cheek, leaving red marks there. Rodney gulped in some more air, wiped water from his face, which was mixing with his sweat, and moved on. After a while, he realised he couldn't hear any instructions from Jorgenson and was terrified that the Dart took them. The heart hammering in his chest began galloping even faster.
He touched his left ear and, to his immense relief, he found out his comm was gone. He calmed down a little because it must have been torn off by the last branch and it was obvious he wouldn't be able to hear them without it.
He continued running, slipping more and more than actually walking. He reached a fallen partly-rotten tree covered in moss and lichen. He couldn't bring himself to leave the straight way down, so he put one leg over it but slipped and fell on it as if it was a horse. He muffled a cry of pain in his groin which ended up on a basis of a branch. He pulled his other leg over and exhaled a few times to make the pain subside, which happened quite soon with all the adrenaline coursing through his blood-vessels.
He rushed onward getting to knee-high ferns. He was already so wet he could pretend to have run through a heavy rain.
He didn't have the power to speak, even to curse, anymore. He was so angry with himself. He mentally scorned himself for not going with Dr. Ginger to send the photos, for not being in a better shape, for not spending enough time in the makeshift gym and for being a total failure. However, he was NOT completely right. He wasn't accustomed to the terrain, which was more slippery than most waxed dancing floors.
His lungs burned so much. His muscles were trembling from the exhaustion but he didn't want to let up. He shoved aside wet branches, slipping, stumbling, sliding, getting to his feet again, moving on. His vision contracted to a tunnel so he didn't have the 180 degrees angle to take into account all his surroundings. But all the moss, mud and muck weren't much to look at. Sometime during his falls, he lost his Glock. And the worst fall happened to him when his backpack got stuck in a tree, jerked him backwards and sent him spinning to the trunk. He let out a cry of despair and frustration when he fell to his knees. He turned his head to see what happened and realised he didn't have time to extricate his pack. So he freed himself and stumbled onwards.
