Gods Among Us

Chapter Ten

Atlantis

That Same Time

Doctor Rodney McKay stood quietly on the end of the northern facing pier of Atlantis, looking out at the seemingly endless expanse of Lantea's ocean. A soft breeze, rich with the scents of the ocean, ruffled his hair gently. The sun slowly descended below the horizon, painting the sky with a million hues of pink, red and gold. He'd long ago discovered that coming out here was a very relaxing way to end a trying day. Today had been one of those days.

The damage sustained in the third tower was extreme, and would take a very long time to repair. He had been drawing up the repair schedule. It was hard and emotionally harrowing work—some of the scientists who had died in the third tower had been his friends. Knowing that he, and others who had known them, would be working in the areas where they'd died – repairing it as much as their skills would allow…it was not an easy thing to cope with.

On top of that, there had been the revelation that Major Lorne had superhuman abilities – abilities that came from somewhere in his DNA. And these changes weren't induced by advanced technology or genetic manipulation by an advanced race. In his free moments, Rodney hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. The scientist in him was fascinated by the notion that superpowers were real, and he wanted to understand how it was possible. He was no geneticist, but he would love to get a look at Lorne's DNA. Look for answers to the questions that kept popping into his head—like how this man was able to move at such high speeds when every physical law Rodney knew said he should not be able to.

He had to confess that he was a little jealous; there had been a number of recent occasions when he'd wished he had a superpower. It would help him cope with the tons of paperwork that seemed to materialise out of nowhere.

Rodney sighed, trying to push it out of his mind. He let the soft roaring of the ocean waves relax him, as it always did. But the curiosity about Lorne, or rather the existence of real superpowers, refused to leave him alone. It had been awhile since he'd read Activating Evolution, but he could recall most of what it had said. It had him wondering, especially now that the existence of people with powers had been confirmed to be true; wondering if the late Chandra Suresh was indeed correct, and that the humans of Earth were evolving to a more advanced level. It was fascinating to consider – and suggested to Rodney that, while they were the second evolution of the Ancients, they were also evolving on their own, separate path. It was a fascinating concept, and it had the scientist in him wondering what they would become in generations to come.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and Rodney glanced over to where they were coming from. He smiled when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Carson," he said, frowning slightly in concern when he saw telltale signs of exhaustion in the Scotsman's expression and posture. He knew Carson was having a hard time with the recent influx of wounded personnel, but that shouldn't have had such a profound effect on the man. Carson, Rodney realized, had not been sleeping for some reason.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. Carson was his best friend in the whole city. The man seemed to have the knack for getting under his skin, brushing aside the manner that came off as arrogance, and seeing the person underneath. Next to his sister, no one had ever been able to do that (though Sam Carter had come close). Having someone he could talk to—really talk to – was something he appreciated deeply.

Carson sighed as he reached where Rodney was standing. "Not really, Rodney," he admitted, trying to ignore the exhaustion pulling at him as much as possible. It wasn't easy. Since leaving Elizabeth, he had spent most of the day battling to save the life of one of the most critically wounded expedition members. That, coupled with the constant bombardment of emotions from the rest of the injured, as well as his own staff, had stressed him to the limit. His mental shields were barely holding together now. He needed to sleep, but he knew himself – he wouldn't be able to until he got his thoughts off of his chest.

"What's wrong, Carson?" Rodney asked, his worry causing his brows to crease in a frown. The last two days had been very hard on all of them, but Carson and his medical team had borne the brunt of it – bombarded by a flood of the dead, dying and wounded. It must have been taking its toll.

"I'm just tired, Rodney," Carson replied. "It's not been a very good day. I've spent the last few hours trying to save a man's life. We managed to bring him back, but the patient is still in critical condition."

Rodney nodded. "But that's not all that's bothering you is it, Carson?"

"No. It isn't," he replied. He sighed softly. "Though I could ask you the same question, Rodney. You seem bothered by something as well."

Rodney sighed as well, but knew better than to deny it. "It's Lorne," he said. "Or, more precisely, what he is. I mean, he's a real-life superhuman. He hasn't been artificially granted powers like in the case of an Ori Prior—he was actually born with them. I can't stop thinking about it, wondering what it means for humanity as a species."

"It is pretty amazing," Carson agreed, his mouth spreading into a knowing smile. He understood Rodney's feelings all too well. He had felt them himself when he'd first met Carolyn and learned that there were more people like him out there.

Knowing what he knew now only made the appearance of metahumans like himself and Evan even more surprising. Everything he knew about human genetics, and Ancient genetics, indicated that there shouldn't be any 'superpowers' in Earth humans. Not yet, at least. And what was more, there were so many different abilities – abilities that, in many cases, were completely unlike what the Ancients themselves had possessed. He would be lying if he said that the prospect that they were evolving on similar, but at the same time different, line to the Ancients wasn't an exhilarating notion.

"I noticed in this morning's briefing you didn't seem surprised when Lorne told us what he could do," Rodney said. "Did you already know, Carson?"

"Yes, Rodney. I did. I've known about Evan's abilities since a few weeks after he was first assigned here after the siege. But I couldn't tell anyone."

"Doctor/patient confidentiality?"

"Something like that. But it also wasn't my secret to tell. We learned long ago that telling people about our powers is something best avoided, if possible."

"I understand," Rodney said. It took a moment for Caron's words to fully register. "Wait. You said 'our' powers. You've got powers too?"

"Yes. I do," Carson said. "Though mine are…different to Evan's. I also haven't had them as long as him."

"You've never said anything."

"Before now, it never seemed to be the right time to bring it up. But you deserve to know, as long as you promise not to tell anyone else. Only two other people in Atlantis know what I am, and I would prefer to keep it that way."

"I guess Lorne is one," Rodney said. Carson nodded in affirmation. "Who's the other?"

"Elizabeth. I told her earlier today." Carson looked at Rodney. He was mildly surprised to sense that Rodney didn't appear hurt or angry with him, like Elizabeth had initially been. Instead he sensed shock, surprise and a growing curiosity. "Before I say anymore, will you promise me that you won't speak about this to anyone else?"

"Of course I won't," Rodney insisted. "I'll keep it a secret for as long as you want."

Carson smiled. "Thank you, Rodney. Now, I guess you have some questions for me."

"Yes," said Rodney. "Firstly: What can you do?"

"It's…complicated," Carson answered. "And it's going to take a bit of time to explain. We had better sit down-- this could take a while."

Rodney nodded and sat down on the edge of the pier, making himself as comfortable as the metal surface would allow. The soles of his feet dangled only a few centimetres above the line of the surf. Carson settled down beside him, and looked down at the waves for a moment. Then, he began to explain everything.

Earth

That Same Time

Peter Petrelli was confused. Very confused. The street he was on with Hiro and Ando didn't look like any New York street he had seen before, and he had seen a lot of his native city over the course of his life. The air seemed cooler than what he was used to less humid. And, try as he might, he couldn't spot any of New York's distinctive yellow cabs. It was too quiet. He hadn't heard anything aside from the car horns that had sounded when they had first materialised. He was beginning to wonder if they were in New York at all. He knew that Hiro's control over exactly when and where he teleported wasn't perfect.

"Something isn't right here," he said to his two companions. "This doesn't look like New York."

"It doesn't?" Ando asked.

"No. It doesn't. It's too quiet. Normally, you can't walk around New York for two seconds without hearing car horns going off. But I haven't heard anything in the last ten minutes. It's October, too—it should be warmer."

Hiro frowned slightly at the conversation. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short when the street opened out into a square. There were white-walled stone buildings all around, ornamental fountains, and, at one end, a massive stone column topped by a larger than life statue of a man. A man decked out in a British Royal Navy admiral's uniform from the Napoleonic era.

Peter's eyes went wide in shock as he took in the striking spectacle. He recognised it. He had seen it before on a family holiday when he and Nathan were still children. It was Nelson's Column.

They were in Trafalgar Square the heart of the British capital city.

"We're in London," he said, shocked.

"What?" Ando breathed. "How can you tell?"

"That statue is of Admiral Horatio Nelson. That means that this can only be Trafalgar Square."

"London! I aim for New York," Hiro said. His frown deepened, how had they ended up so far off course?

"It's okay, Hiro. No one's blaming you for ending up here," Peter said. "Trust me, I know how difficult it sometimes is to control our powers. We just need to find somewhere around here to sit down and think about what we're going to do next. The military will come after us as soon as they realise that we're gone."

Especially now, he thought. We know something that we shouldn't—we're a security risk.

"And why would the military be after you? Haven't you got enough problems, Peter?" The voice, sarcastic and familiar, came out of nowhere. Hiro and Ando jumped in surprise. Spinning around, Peter saw nothing.

"Claude?" he asked.

A section of the air rippled for a moment, and then Claude Raines was there, leaning against the side of Nelson's Column, arms folded across his chest. He looked a little better than the last time Peter had seen him. The scruffy, hobo look was gone. Instead, Claude was dressed in a pair of jeans, a blue and white chequered shirt, and a leather jacket. He seemed considerably more at ease.

"Wow. Invisible Man!" Hiro exclaimed gleefully.

Claude ignored the Japanese man, focusing his attention on Peter. "I turn my back on you for five minutes and you get into trouble," Claude said, shaking his head. "What is it with empathic mimics? You're all trouble magnets. So, what have you gone and gotten yourself into now?"

Peter couldn't help but smile at the familiar tone in Claude's voice. "It's a long story," he said, looking at the crowds of people milling around. "And I'll think you'll agree this is not the best place to talk."

Claude nodded. "You're right," he said. "Very well. Come with me, all of you."

Claude turned and walked away, resisting the impulse to fade into his normal invisibility. Using his ability to hide away from the world was habitual now, it had been the only thing that had kept him alive since Bennett had tried to kill him. Going invisible now, however, would not be a good idea. Peter and his entourage would not be able to follow.

Peter followed a few paces behind him, careful to keep track of the usually invisible man. He remembered full well how anti-social Claude could be, but he seemed to be more accommodating at the moment. Instead, he was leading them somewhere through the bustling streets of a vast city. It was strange and slightly out of character for the Claude he remembered, but he seemed more comfortable here, as if he knew this was a safer place to hide than New York. This begged the question: Why he hadn't come back here in the first place? Why had he remained in New York, knowing that the Company could capture him?

I'll ask him later, Peter thought. I just hope that he'll give a straight answer.

"Where are we going?" Ando asked from behind Peter.

Claude glanced back. "Somewhere we can talk," he said, and continued to lead the way through the bustling streets of London.

Claude brought them to an apartment on the third floor of a building in the city's Soho district. The apartment was surprisingly spacious, with all the modern conveniences. The furniture was all light woods and cream coloured leather, the floor covered in light laminate wood with a few rugs here and there.

"Very nice," Peter said, looking around. "An apartment like this must be expensive. How can you afford it?"

"I have my ways," Claude answered. Peter frowned, and Claude noticed. "And no, it's not what you're thinking. You're not the only one who comes from a wealthy family, Peter."

"I see," Peter said, wondering why Claude had lived as a tramp for seven years if he'd had such immense wealth at his disposal. Claude was truly an enigma.

"Everyone sit down." Claude gestured to the three-piece suite. The three guests complied. Peter looked carefully at Claude.

"So, are you still having difficulties with your powers, Peter?" Claude asked.

"A few," Peter admitted. "But I am getting better. That mental file card trick really works."

"Good, but if you're still having problems the 'card trick' is obviously not enough. We'll have to see what we can do about that," Claude said, his expression shifting into a grin.

Peter grimaced slightly, knowing that 'doing something about it' meant more training with Claude. Training that was going to be every painful. But he could bare it, especially if it helped him save New York from himself.

Claude laughed slightly at the look on Peter's face. "Now then, tell me what you've gone and done to get yourselves into trouble with the US military."

"As I said before-- it's a long story."

"Then I suggest you start at the beginning, and be as succinct as possible," Claude said, settling down in one of the chairs and giving the trio on the couch a pointed, expectant look.

Peter, Hiro and Ando looked at each other for a moment, trying to decide who would start. Finally, Peter opened his mouth and began their tale.

"It all began when we went to see Isaac Mendez…"