To Freedom

Chapter Fourteen: Interview

Fourth of July update. Woolsey makes his formal appearance in this story. I'm not quite satisfied because I don't think I've quite got a handle on his character, but oh well, what can you do.

I've been suffering a massive case of writer's block recently. Let's hope this helps me get out of it.

"And why is Woolsey coming again?" Sheppard said, raising both eyebrows. "I mean, I wasn't aware there was a crisis..."

Weir sighed and shook her head. "To the IOA, there is. We have a Wraith in Atlantis."

"Yeah, and haven't you explained that Keith is a guest?" Sheppard said in exasperation. "A guest who saved the life of this city's military commander?"

"'Course we have, but come on, like that matters to them," Rodney said. "If they want a reason to complain they'll make one up, you know them."

"At least it's only Mr. Woolsey," said Weir. "He's more sympathetic to us than the others."

"Yeah, by an iota, maybe," grumbled Rodney.

"Nonetheless," Teyla said, "it is happening, so there is no point in fighting against it. The best thing we can do is make a good impression for Mr. Woolsey."

Sheppard, Weir, Rodney, and Teyla were gathered in the meeting room, discussing the latest development that had come as a message from General Landry at the SGC - the IOA was sending Richard Woolsey to Atlantis to survey the situation there. Which most likely meant they were going to demand why Weir hadn't killed Keith yet.

"It's not just Keith," Weir said, her eyebrows drawing together. "They'll want to interrogate Schebner."

"And why? The guy doesn't have anything to say!" Sheppard said.

"Didn't you say he stopped taking his crazy pills?" Rodney said.

"They're not crazy pills, and second of all, that doesn't mean he's any more cooperative," Sheppard explained. "He's just as uncooperative as before, just in different ways. Now he's pretending to sleep all day. No matter how loud Samuels and the others yell at him."

"But I fail to see what is so important about Schebner that the IOA would send one of their own to interrogate him," Teyla said, addressing Weir. "One Wraith worshipper should not be a threat to them..."

"That's true," Weir said, "but General Landry told me that the IOA are antsy because we're holding both a Wraith and Wraith worshipper at the same time."

"Oh, come on," Sheppard said. "Schebner won't even talk to Keith!"

"Yes, but the IOA doesn't know that," Weir said. "Nor do they fully understand your...history...with Keith. From what General Landry told me, they believe that your relationship with Keith was solely one of convenience."

"Convenience? How's that?" Sheppard slammed his palm upon the table, which made Rodney jump. "How many times have I explained this, dammit! Keith had a choice. He wasn't another prisoner, not like that Wraith in Kolya's hole. He chose to leave behind his life, risked his ass to do it and - "

"John," Weir said, her tone severe. "We know this already. All of us. But the IOA doesn't."

"And you know what, something tells me they won't care," Rodney said.

"What do they want from Keith, anyway?" Sheppard demanded. "He's already cooperating with Beckett's research, and he's already given us intel."

"Perhaps they believe that Keith cannot be trusted," Teyla said. "That he is not giving us...complete or accurate information."

Sheppard laughed, but he felt more like crying - or choking. "Come on, he can't fake the research results - and if he doesn't have complete intel, that's 'cause his clearance was low."

"John, listen, John," Weir said, leaning towards him. "You're wasting your time explaining to us. We all know this. Explain to Woolsey when he comes, but for now, I'd rather we prepare for his arrival instead of repeating things we already know."

Sheppard wanted to argue, but he couldn't because he knew that Weir had a point. Sighing, he slumped into his seat. Dammit, how much he and Keith had fought to convince Atlantis that the Wraith was on their side...only for something like this to happen. Somehow, he thought that Woolsey would be much harder to sway than, say, Rodney.

"The IOA remembers what happened the last time we formed an alliance with the Wraith," Weir said, wincing - she remembered too, and so did everyone at the table. "Naturally, they're paranoid about any Wraith who appears too helpful."

"It's not like it's an alliance," Sheppard said. "Keith's a defector who we've offered political asylum. That should fly with them, shouldn't it?"

"It would," Weir said, "if Keith weren't a Wraith. Like it or not, John - whether he likes it or not - he's a member of a species that needs to kill humans to survive. It's understandable why they're so skittish. I don't like it, but...we can't do anything about it."

Sheppard sighed. "When's Woolsey coming?"

"In two hours," Weir said. "He'll want to interview Schebner first, then Keith."

"If Schebner talks," Teyla said.

"I wouldn't count on that," Sheppard said. "Nope, he's just gonna continue the Sleeping Beauty act. Without the 'beauty' part."

Weir cracked a slight smile, but her expression soon became serious again. "I guess that's it. The most we can do now is wait for Woolsey's arrival. Once he comes, you can explain everything you've explained to us, John. But please, try not to come across as too hostile."

Sheppard sighed, thinking about the slippery half-bald man who represented the whiniest group of humans on Earth, and said, "No promises."

Weir sighed as well, though he felt it was for different reasons.

"Offworld activation," called Chuck. "We're receiving Mr. Woolsey's IDC."

"Lower the shield," Weir said.

The shield flickered out of existence and seconds later Richard Woolsey's familiar figure stepped briskly from the event horizon. He looked exactly as Weir remembered - balding, dressed in a neat suit, a briefcase dangling from one hand. Weir stepped forward to greet him.

"Welcome to Atlantis, Mr. Woolsey," she said.

"It's a pleasure to be here, Dr. Weir," Woolsey said as they shook hands. "Now, I'm rather pressed for time, so if you don't mind, I'd prefer if we took care of business as soon as possible."

"Of course," said Weir. She'd been expecting this - after all, this wasn't a pleasure trip. Not that the IOA would ever bother visiting Atlantis for pleasure, although she privately thought that they derived plenty of pleasure from complaining.

As she fell into step beside Woolsey, guiding him towards the brig, she said, "I take you'd like to speak to the Wraith worshipper first?"

Woolsey stopped mid-step and pivoted around to face her. He looked a little nervous. "Well...actually, no."

Weir blinked. Had she just misheard? She'd assumed that Woolsey would prefer to save the more unpleasant (in his eyes) task for later. He certainly didn't seem the type who would be in a hurry to meet a Wraith.

"I know it's sudden, and it's not exactly the order the IOA had in mind," Woolsey said. "But I'd prefer to get this meeting over with sooner rather than later."

"Well, all right," Weir said, cocking an eyebrow. Through her jack, she said, "John, come in."

"What is it, Elizabeth?"

"You're with Keith, aren't you?" she said.

"Sure I am. What about it?"

"There's been a change in plans. Woolsey wants to talk to Keith first."

"What? Well, all right...where do you want me to take him?"

Weir nodded at Woolsey. "Where would you like this meeting to be held?"

"You know," Woolsey said, "I believe it'd be much more secure if this Wraith was being held in the brig..."

"That's out of the question," Elizabeth said. "Keith is here as our guest. We're not going to force him into the brig so you can feel more secure during the interview."

"Yes, well," Woolsey began.

"I know you think that I'm making a mistake, but I assure you that I am not," Weir said. "I have every reason to trust Keith. He's been nothing short of cooperative - "

"A little too cooperative, don't you think?" Woolsey's gaze became sharp, suspicious. "Don't you remember what happened the last time the Wraith were this helpful?"

"That was different," Weir said. "That was an entire Hive deceiving us. Keith is one Wraith who deliberately betrayed his own people."

"Yes, I know you describe him as a defector, but all the same," Woolsey insisted, "you can't forget that he's a Wraith. And the Wraith have proven quite duplicitous in the past."

"Very well," Weir said. "If you're really so worried, I'll have a contigent of four marines - and Colonel Sheppard - with him in the room, ready to fire if anything goes wrong. The meeting will be held in my office. Is that acceptable?"

Woolsey's throat convulsed as if he was about to protest, but when he spoke it was with a nod. "Yes, it is. But I warn you, if I find any sign that this Wraith is deceiving us, I will not need your permission to order him terminated."

Weir did not like the idea of giving him such authority. Where had this authority come from - the IOA? The thought of them interfering with Atlantis' operations burned in her throat, but she shoved her anger down. Keith would not give Woolsey any reason to distrust him.

"John," she said, calling Sheppard through the jack again.

"Hey there, Elizabeth. Took your sweet time answering..."

"Yes, well, Mr. Woolsey and I had to deliberate for a while, but we've decided," Weir said. "Bring Keith to the meeting room - and expand his guard detail to four."

"Someone's sure paranoid, huh?" Sheppard said without humor. "All right, Sheppard out."

Weir gestured for Woolsey to follow and led to the way to her office.

Sheppard had already explained the situation to Keith, so Keith wasn't surprised to see the balding human sitting in one of two chairs in Dr. Weir's office. This must be Richard Woolsey, agent of the International Oversight Advisory. Keith was not exactly sure what this "IOA" was, but the way Sheppard spoke about it implied it was up to no good, and it answered to the authorities on Earth. At the end of that little briefing, Sheppard had admonished Keith to stay on his "best behavior."

Keith hadn't planned to do otherwise. If this Richard Woolsey represented that sort of authority, then it wouldn't hurt to treat him as politely as possible.

The instant he entered his room, tailed by the four marines and Colonel Sheppard, Woolsey sniffened and he clasped his hands tight in his lap. Keith nodded respectuflly to him and took the seat opposite him; Woolsey made a motion as if he wanted to scoot his chair backwards, but didn't follow through.

Since the human looked momentarily stricken dumb, Keith spoke first. "Good morning, Mr. Woolsey. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Woolsey swallowed hard - Keith could see every moment of his throat - and squeezed his hands together so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you too..."

There was an awkward silence for several seconds that dragged into an eternity. Keith became uncomfortable - he felt he should speak, but at the same time, if this was an interview, then Woolsey ought to take the initiative.

"Well," Woolsey said finally, clearing his throat. "So you're the Wraith who's been rendering so much help to Atlantis."

Was he suspicious? Keith couldn't tell. "Yes, I am. You may address me as 'Keith.'"

"Ah...Colonel Sheppard named you that, right? When he was captured by the Wraith," Woolsey said.

"That's right," Keith said. "I helped him escape."

"Of course, I read the reports..." Woolsey wiped his forehead with the back of his head; Keith detected the acrid tang of sweat. Sweat, and fear. It annoyed the Wraith more than he could say. Once again, here was a human who couldn't view him as more than a monster...

"Which brings us to my first question," Woolsey said, straightening. "Why did you help Colonel Sheppard escape?"

Sheppard took a step forward, looking like he wanted to speak, but Weir shook her head warningly at him. He fell back, though he looked angry. Keith was grateful for Weir's intervention - he had the feeling that if Sheppard had spoken, that would do little to improve his image in Woolsey's eyes. No, best answer himself. Convince the IOA agent himself.

"I helped him because I knew that if he did not escape, he would soon die," Keith said. "Over the course of his imprisonment, I had come to...befriend him."

"Befriend him. Really," Woolsey said. "In two days?"

"It was more like a week for us," Keith said. "That world orbits on its axis about three times as fast as this one."

"So you befriended him. What do you mean by that?" Woolsey asked.

Keith blinked. "I - I'm sorry? I don't quite understand..."

"What do you mean by 'befriending' him, specifically? What did you do that entailed...'befriending?'" Woolsey said delicately.

Keith had the feeling that was too personal a question for such an interview, but he kept his objections to himself. "It started because we were mutually interested in one another. I thought that he was different for a human - he was so adamant that he could escape - and he, he thought I was different for a Wraith..."

"You know, 'cause most of them would just snarl 'I am your death' instead of ask how do you do," Sheppard piped up.

Keith went on as if Sheppard hadn't spoken. "I was interested in him, and I thought it would be a shame if he died, so I...helped him. Brought him food - the food provided to him was drugged - and nursed him back to health when he was injured. When my superior fed on him."

"And did you ever feed on him?" There was a challenge in Woolsey's voice.

Keith jerked, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. "No. No, absolutely not, I would never - "

"He promised," Sheppard said. "And I happen to trust his promises."

"John, that's enough," Weir murmured.

"Hmm." Woolsey looked from Sheppard to Keith, frowning. "Well, then. Is that the only reason you helped him escape? Because you became...friends?"

"What more reason do I need," Keith said, struggling to suppress his anger. "I saw someone in need of help and I helped him."

"A very noble instinct," Woolsey said. "Unusual from a Wraith."

Keith caught on in a flash. "I do not have an ulterior motive. I did what I did because - "

"Because what?" Woolsey leaned forward; anger seemed to have dissipated some of his fear. "Am I supposed to believe that you brought Colonel Sheppard back to Atlantis out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Yes, dammit!" Sheppard yelled, surging him forward - Weir and a marine pushed him back.

"Not now, John," Weir said, shaking her head.

Keith sat up stiffly, furious about having to address this argument again. "If you're implying that I helped Colonel Sheppard escape so I could spy on Atlantis - "

"Why wouldn't that be your true purpose?" Woolsey said. "Your kind has proven before that you're not above this sort of ruse."

Normally Keith considered himself a peaceful person, but now he was finding it difficult to keep himself from getting up and punching Woolsey in the nose. He swallowed back the urge and said as calmly as he could, "My superiors would never trust me with that sort of mission. I am an outcast among Wraith. I - I don't like what I am, I don't like having to feed on humans - "

"I'm sure that's all part of your cover story," Woolsey said.

Keith hissed in frustration, sinking his claws into the chair arms to keep from launching himself at Woolsey. No, he couldn't attack... Control, control. Control himself.

"Such is the way of the warrior," Luka's voice whispered across space and time. "Control yourself, show no weakness to the enemy. Focus only on breathing. Let you become the universe."

Oh, Luka, all those days spent talking to him across bars - teaching and learning -

It was useless. He'd never learned anything from Luka, because his base nature was that of a coward, and Luka's that of a warrior. That divide was even deeper than the one between human and Wraith.

Nonetheless, he did as Luka had instructed. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. Holding each breath for his long as possible, feeling his ribcage expand before contracting. Let his universe slip away until it was just him in the chair. Him, alone. Or not so alone, because Colonel Sheppard was standing behind him, radiating silent support...support that washed over him like a balm. That was right, calm down, breathe, Colonel Sheppard would stand by his side, help him get through this.

When he looked back at Woolsey the rush of homicidal rage had dissipated, though he by no means was happy with the IOA agent. "I am sincere. Whether you believe me or not, Mr. Woolsey."

"If that's the case," Woolsey said, sounding deeply suspicious, "then why haven't you taken the retrovirus developed by Dr. Beckett? Surely you would have considered that if you don't like what you are."

It took all of Keith's effort to keep from hissing. No, he had to behave at his most civilized... "The retovirus would wipe my memory. I don't wish to forget the things that happened in my past, whether I like them or not. Would you?"

It was out of spite that he shot the question back at Woolsey, whose face contorted as if he wanted to snap something back. Either Woolsey decided against it or he had nothing to say, because he just nodded briskly and plunged forward with the questioning.

"Tell me the nature of the intel that you brought to Atlantis."

Finally a question he could answer without feeling like he wanted to pummel somebody. "I did not have very high clearance there and I don't know much about computers, but I brought everything I could. The base's day-to-day logistics, the planet's address, my own research - "

"Research. Ah," Woolsey said. "What kind of research would that be?"

Keith wondered how this was relevant, but it couldn't hurt to indulge Woolsey. "I researched humans. The superiors wanted be to do it because they wanted their prey to be more 'palatable' - their words, not mine. But I have always been interested in humans, so...I used the opportunity to find out more about humans, their society, their physiology."

"I see," Woolsey said, though his eyebrows drew closer together and he looked disturbed. "Why did you bring that research with you?"

"I..." Keith swallowed. "I thought the people at Atlantis would be interested in finding out just how much the Wraith know about humans...we were working on ways to better incapacitate humans, you see, so I thought Atlantis might want to know preemptively how to counteract such measures. And to be honest, my own research was the only information I had unfettered access to. I'll admit I wasn't thinking about what information I downloaded, because I was pressed for time at that junction."

"Hmm." Woolsey didn't speak for some time. "Fair enough. And I hear you've been cooperating with Dr. Beckett's medical research?"

"Yes," Keith said. "He says that thanks to me, the expedition's knowledge of Wraith physiology has been advanced by decades." It was hard to keep down the warm bubble of pride that rose inside him when he spoke. He thought of Dr. Beckett's kind smile and the way he addressed Keith as "lad." At least there was one other human in Atlantis who trusted him unequivocally.

"Interesting," Woolsey said, in a tone that implied the opposite. "And I hear that only two days ago you saved Ronon Dex's life?"

"That's right," Keith said.

"You're being very helpful, aren't you?" Woolsey said. The aggression was back in his tone and posture. "A little...too much, wouldn't you say?"

Keith's insides froze. This was exactly what Sheppard had thrown at him last night. The accusation that still lanced at him when he thought too hard about it - so he tried not to think about it at all. Opportunistic little snake... It was all a ruse... But it hadn't been, truly it hadn't been. His own safety was incidental; everything he'd done had been for Sheppard's sake.

Had it? After all, the way he viewed things, it wasn't him who had helped Sheppard escape - it was Sheppard who had helped him escape. If that was true, then he really had just used Sheppard.

Keith swallowed - revulsion at his own actions. No, not actions. By any standards, his actions had been commendable. But his intentions...

I am truly the lowest of the low. Even the reasons I wanted John to live...it wasn't for him, but for me. I wanted to see his eyes. His smile. I didn't want that extinguished, I - I needed it. I think he would have been happy with death if it meant he didn't give up his people. But I forced him to live.

And to think Sheppard had misread Keith's selfishness as bravery.

He couldn't speak anymore. He wanted this interview to be over with, he just wanted to go somewhere quiet, somewhere he didn't have to think - away from Sheppard. Stupid Sheppard. The one who'd reached inside him and twisted his heart around the way no one had since Luka. Even more than Luka had.

"Well? Aren't you going to answer?" Woolsey said impatiently.

"No, Mr. Woolsey, you've inquired enough," Keith replied in the same tone. "I've told you everything there is to tell you. If you don't believe that my reasons are sincere then that's your problem. I shouldn't have to explain myself - "

"Keith," Sheppard said, his tone gentle - but edged with a warning. "Listen, I know how you feel but Woolsey doesn't. And as long as he has questions he wants to ask then you're gonna have to sit tight and answer them."

Keith rounded on Sheppard, disbelieving. What the hell was he saying, wasn't Sheppard supposed to be on his side here? But when he met Sheppard's eyes the colonel just shook his head and made a vague gesture with his hands. Saying without words that he knew what he was doing, even if he didn't like it.

In an instant Keith felt ashamed. How could he ever have thought that Sheppard wasn't helping him. That was all that the colonel had done since they'd arrived in Atlantis.

Woolsey was looking at him expectantly, so he straightened and met the man's eyes. To his satisfaction, Woolsey flinched. When he spoke, though, he was calm. "Answer the question, Keith."

At least he was using Keith's name. Keith looked at him and said, his voice steely, "I don't see me as being too helpful. I see myself as repaying a debt I owe to Atlantis."

The truth. The truth couldn't hurt, even if it did cast him in a somewhat selfish light.

"A debt you owe Atlantis?" Woolsey cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes. I had no life back at that base, you see. I was viewed as weak and pathetic, whether I even lived was uncertain... Colonel Sheppard showed me kindness, and he offered me a way out. So because of that, I must repay it some way."

"What? What?" Sheppard sounded incredulous. It struck Keith that he'd never told the colonel the truth before - he'd told it to Dr. Beckett, but nobody else. Because he thought that they wouldn't be able to understand...yet here he was telling this agent of the IOA the complicated truth. But what else did he have to give?

"Hold on a minute," Woolsey said. "Didn't you say that you helped Sheppard out of pure altruism? And now you're saying it's because you're repaying a favor?"

Keith inhaled deeply, remembered Luka's and Sheppard's words, and sat up straight-backed and confident. "Yes, Mr. Woolsey. I did. What's so wrong about that? I can have more than one reason for doing things."

Woolsey shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like, "preposterous" under his breath. It took all of Keith's effort to keep from hissing at him. The whole point of this interview was to persuade the IOA man that he was not an average Wraith.

"Keith, that's - I mean, come on, you don't owe me anything! It's me who owes you, you saved my ass back there," Sheppard said.

Keith flicked his eyes over to Sheppard and smiled. "I'm aware of that too, John. Perhaps we owe each other."

"And it all cancels out," Sheppard said sardonically. "Listen, you should stop thinking about things like that. Who owes whom - it's all just too complicated, you know? We helped each other, that's it, let it go."

This wasn't very logical, Keith thought, but it made sense for Sheppard. Strange. Sheppard logic. He resisted the urge to smile and turned around to face Woolsey again.

"Mr. Woolsey?" he said. "Do you have any further questions?"

Woolsey jerked as if he'd been awoken from a nap. "No, no. I don't think so. I believe I've found out everything I need to know."

He stood up in a single brisk movement and turned towards Weir, who nodded. Keith remained seated, sensing that it'd be wise to leave after Woolsey did. He wondered what impression he'd given Woolsey - the interview had seemed distressingly short. Too short for Woolsey to find out everything he wanted.

It couldn't hurt to ask. "Mr. Woolsey?" he said. "If I may ask, what will the IOA do with me?"

Woolsey stopped at the door and looked at Keith, long and hard. There was still a little fear in his gaze, but it was tempered by something else. Not admiration, nor liking. Perhaps...wary respect? Seeing that lifted Keith's spirits more than anything that happened today.

"Well, we'll have to take some time deliberating before we can reach a final decision," Woolsey said, "but as of now, I can safely say that if you continue to be as cooperative and helpful as you are, then the IOA will - for now, I stress - not have a problem with your continued presence in Atlantis. That's all."

With that, he turned around - trying to act brusque - and walked out of the room, followed shortly by Weir who began engaging him in an animated conversation. Keith, his heart pounding, turned to face Sheppard.

Sheppard cracked him a grin and patted his shoulder. "Best you could hope for, given the circumstances. You convinced him, kiddo."

Keith wasn't so sure of that, but Sheppard looked so happy that Keith decided to say nothing. It was better if Sheppard smiled, better for the both of them.

The pirsoner Schebner was lying upon the bench like a corpse, his eyes peacefully shut and his hands folded across his chest. Richard Woolsey regarded him skeptically before turning to Weir.

"He's asleep," he said.

"No, he isn't," Weir said. "He's been faking sleep ever since his drug capsule was removed."

"Ah, yes, this drug that turned him temporarily insane," Woolsey said. "I read about it in the report."

"No doubt you did," Weir said. She nodded at the guards. "Open it."

The guards obliged; Weir motioned "after you" and Woolsey stepped inside. Perspiration was beaded on his bald brow, but he didn't look nearly as nervous as he had during his interview with Keith. It made sense - a sleeping human was always less of a threat than a fully-conscious Wraith.

"Well...good morning, Schebner," Woolsey said, straightening his coat lapels. "I'm Richard Woolsey from the International Oversight Advisory, and if you don't mind I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Schebner's response was a faint snore. If Weir hadn't known better she'd have thought it was genuine.

"Schebner," she said forcefully, stepping forward. "This man represents one of the most powerful authorities on the planet Earth. I'd advise that it's in your best interests to answer him."

The Wraith worshipper cracked open one eye. His eyes were light blue, and startlingly clear now that the murkiness the drug had caused was gone. Like looking into a mountain lake. When he spoke, it was one nonsensical word: "Moon-eyes."

"You can't pretend to be insane anymore," Weir said, "now that you no longer have your drugs."

"Ah." His voice was faint, a little hoarse. Much more ordinary-sounding than his high-pitched giggles and screeches before. "Of course. He removed it. The Wraith I know as Moon-eyes."

He could mean no one but Keith. Weir exchanged glances with Woolsey, and Woolsey cleared his throat and said, "If I may, I'd like to start from there. Your relationship to the Wraith who we know as 'Keith.'"

Schebner snorted and lolled his head to the side. "A ridiculous name. Not fitting for him at all."

"Answer the question, Schebner," Woolsey said with an edge.

"Of course, Mr...Woolsey, was it? You want to know because you think it is suspicious. You trust neither of us."

"The question, if you please," Woolsey said.

"We met once," Schebner said. "Several years ago. He was young. His hair was still dark, I remember. Those eyes, I remember. How could I forget? I called him 'Moon-eyes' because that was essentially what his telepathic signature - what the Wraith use in lieu of names - translated into. He was very kind, very polite. Not very much like a Wraith. I sensed that he had been waiting to talk to me for a very long time. Hmm, we didn't talk for long. Pity. I would have liked to have known him better. He seems like a good boy."

"And what did you discuss during this first meeting?" Woolsey demanded.

"Nothing much," Schebner said, almost dreamily. "Oh, but I taught him to whistle. Or I tried. He hasn't much of a musical sense, unfortunately."

"Enough," Woolsey said. "There's no point being facetious, you're - "

"But I'm not being facetious, Woolsey from Earth. This is what we discussed. This is our connection. You wanted to know, so I told you."

Weir was disconcerted by the change that had come over Schebner. This man's voice was quiet, his manner subdued; he was gazing at the ceiling with a contemplative light in his eyes. Not at all like the maniacal, cackling madman who'd been rolling around the cell floor. When she looked at him, dressed in spare Atlantis fatigues, she saw a soldier she could have passed every day in the city halls.

"Do you have anything useful to tell us, Schebner?" Woolsey said. "Any intel on the Wraith's plans and movements?"

Schebner frowned. "I might."

"Tell us what you know, then."

"What is in it for me?"

"You're not in a position to make demands," Woolsey said.

"Actually, I think I am," Scbebner said. "I have been in worse situations than behind bars. I'll simply wait it out, I think. For you want something from me, and I want nothing from you. So I will wait until the Wraith come and rescue me."

"How can you be so certain they'll come?" Weir said.

"Of course they will," Schebner said, sounding almost disinterested. "They will come because this is the only thing they seek. The City of the Ancients. They are patient, and they are never-ending."

"And that's why you serve them," Weir said.

"My reasons are mine alone," Schebner said.

Woolsey appeared to be deliberating very hard; he spent an inordinate time rubbing his chin. Weir watched him warily, wondering what he had planned. Or rather, what the IOA had planned.

At length, Woolsey stepped forward and said, "What if...we were to give you something that you want?"

Schebner said, "I want nothing."

"That's not true," Woolsey said. "You must want something."

"Perhaps I do," Schebner said, almost morosely. "But you Lanteans are duplicitous. You will no doubt attempt to double-cross me."

Woolsey opened his mouth, but Weir spoke before he could. "Mr. Woolsey, what are you going on about? We're certainly not about to give in to his demands..."

"If he has valuable intel," Woolsey hissed, "then yes, one small thing wouldn't hurt. Goodness knows we've been lacking adequate information about the Wraith - "

"And who's to say he even has that information?" Weir said.

"Oh, I have it," Schebner said. "I have everything you want, and then some. Some that you would not suspect." He sat upright in a single fluid motion, his eyes glinting. "Truly, I am lucky to have run into Moon-eyes here. With him here, there is so much I can do..."

The back of Weir's neck prickled. "You're not planning on returning him to his Hive, are you?"

Schebner smiled - not one of his deranged grins from earlier, but a weary smirk. "Who knows what I am planning? What is your name again?"

"Dr. Weir," Weir said. "I'm the leader of the Atlantis expedition."

"Ah," Schebner said. "Their Queen, now?"

Weir didn't know what to say to this so she said nothing. She folded her arms and gazed at Schebner, while watching Woolsey from the corner of her eye. Woolsey said, "What will it take for you to give us this information?"

Schebner seemed to think for a while, his icy eyes darting back and forth while his brow creased in concentration. When he spoke, his words were slow, measured, deliberate. As if he was parting from a reluctant secret.

"There is a world...its address I have memorized. I wish to be taken to this world. On this world, I will tell you all the information you desire."

"Unacceptable," Weir said instantly. "Mr. Woolsey's position is too important for us to compromise him like that. For all we know, you might be leading us straight into a Wraith stronghold."

"It is not a Wraith world," Schebner said. "It is uninhabited. All I want is equal ground, Dr. Weir. Here, you hold the power. On that world, there will be only you and me and Mr. Woolsey. We can talk. Like equals."

"You're not an equal," Woolsey said. "You're a prisoner."

"And as I've said, unless there's a full complement of marines with us, we won't go," Weir said.

"Marines? You mean, more guards like these ones?" Schebner's eyes flashed with distaste when they landed on the guards flanking the cell. "No. I will not accept that. Very well. If you don't wish to go personally, Mr. Woolsey and Dr. Weir, then send your most trusted lieutenants. At most four of them. And I would like Moon-eyes to come along too."

Weir and Woolsey exchanged glances. For a moment, they forgot that they were meant to have something of an antagonistic relationship, being IOA and Atlantean. Here, they were two authority figures in the same predicament - figuring out how to deal with his prisoner. Deciding whether to acquiesce to his request or not.

They stared into each other's eyes for several long, tense seconds - and then Woolsey lowered his head a fraction. A nod. Her heart hammering, Weir turned to face Schebner.

"Schebner. My people work in teams of four. I will send my most trusted team - the one lead by John Sheppard - with you and Keith. If you or Keith make any wrong moves, they will not hesitate to gun you down on the spot. Is that understood?"

She'd have to ensure that Ronon was fit for duty by the time they went on this mission. Though she trusted Sheppard and Teyla, she doubted that Sheppard would be willing to kill Keith and perhaps Teyla would hesitate. Only Ronon could be counted on to fire first, with no thought or emotion but instinct. It was a trait of his that had bothered her in the past and she was still not sure if she condoned it, but if a mission like this went south, then she needed that more than ever.

Privately, she wondered what insanity had overtaken her if she was agreeing to this. But it was too late - she'd already agreed, and she already had IOA (well, Richard Woolsey) approval.

Schebner smiled and it struck Weir that he was probably handsome. Perhaps something he used to his advantage. "I understand. When will we go?"

"When I give the call." When Ronon recovered.

"Very well, Dr. Weir, Mr. Woolsey," Schebner said. "Then we have nothing else to discuss."

Weir nodded sharply, and Woolsey followed suit. They then exited the cell without a word; only when they'd left the brig and were heading through the city's brightly lit halls did Woolsey finally break the pensive silence in which they'd been engaged.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Dr. Weir?"

"Well, you're the one who first agreed to it," Weir said. "It's too late to back down now."

"Right," Woolsey said, nodding. "Of course, too late."

The look on his face clearly said, though, that he wished it wasn't.

The next few chapters get the plot moving in a really big way, to the point of maybe even qualifying as Wham Episodes. However, I'm stuck on that particular arc so don't expect it to show up in a while.

In the meantime, you can review. Reviews are always nice, yah?