The day of the skybattle match between Athar and Janus has arrived! But first, some thoughts from Teyla…

Chapter 8

It appeared that life at Atlantis Academy was settling down into a predictable routine of lessons and homework and not too much other excitement besides that, for which Teyla was grateful.

She still didn't really understand her roommates, but had reasoned that if she wanted to be a diplomat when she was older she'd have to make an effort to understand other cultures, and this was certainly a very different culture from hers.

In the interests of diplomatic relations, she had dutifully watched a video of a boyband that Jennifer, Alison and Kate were all squealing over and had tried her best to pick a favourite out of the four singers. It had been difficult. They were very bland and very boyish. She had recalled the wrestling matches that the older boys and men took part in at Athos House, and how she'd realised last summer that her interest was no longer held solely by the participants' fighting techniques; their straining efforts to subdue their opponents, the shape and strength of their bodies, even the grunting and sweating which, not long ago she'd found funny - now these things had a strange fascination. The smooth, soft boys in the video held none of that fascination. Still, Teyla thought, as she gazed into the strange blue box floating between the towers, she would continue to make an effort.

It was a cold Saturday morning, grey and blustery with a few spits of rain just working up to a heavier downpour. It wouldn't blow into the Athar seats, though; not unless the wind changed. The blue, boxy Skybattle forcefield hung between five towers, each of which held a large, covered seating area for viewing the action. Teyla tucked her scarf in more tightly at her throat.

The fronts of the stands had been screened when they sat down, but the huge panels of glass, or whatever material the Ancients had used, had slid away, letting in the fresh air of which Rodney vocally disapproved.

"I'm freezing. My face is freezing. My hands are freezing. My feet are like blocks of ice. Why did they have to open the windows right out? We could have seen the match through them just as well."

"I think we will feel more part of the action like this," said Teyla.

"I don't want to be part of the action. I want to be cosy and warm and not have to watch my friend getting beaten to a pulp, thank you very much."

"That will not happen, Rodney. The referee would not allow it."

The stands were all full, one for each of the houses and another where the staff were sitting. Professor Carter was talking animatedly to Professor Teal'c, her hands waving. Professor Theodorus sat slightly apart, his bearing straight and formal. Teyla smiled. Professor Jackson had his arm around Professor Brown. He turned to speak to the Head, sitting behind him. The biology Professor took something from her pocket and held it up to her face. It was too far away to see what it was, but the girls in Teyla's room made the same gestures when they checked their appearance in their compact make-up sets. Not that they were supposed to wear make-up, but most did outside of lessons. Kate had offered to teach Teyla. Maybe she'd take up the offer.

The players had appeared on the grass below the box and, hanging back at the foot of one of the towers, was Ronon with his dog, Runner. Teyla searched for John amongst the black-clad players and quickly found him, the smallest of them all.

"I repeat, 'beaten to a pulp'," said Rodney. "Look at the size of him next to those hulking great Janus players!"

"The Janus team are all sixth formers, I think."

"Grown men, that's what they are! Or possibly women. And there's Sheppard in his skinny skin-tight suit, looking like the wind's going to blow him away. Why they have to wear those things, I don't know. They'll freeze. And just when he finally has some decent clothes."

Teyla shifted, an uncomfortable sense of guilt squirming in her stomach.

"Let it go, Teyla. It's my fault too. I just thought it was Sheppard craziness to go round with no socks and holes in his clothes. Or I didn't think."

John had come back from his first session with Ronon wearing an adult size sweater. And then at breakfast the following day, Professor Weir had taken him with her out of the Mess Hall. Arriving back in the Athar common room, Rodney had immediately whipped out his laptop and tapped into the security feed from the Professor's office and they had watched as John sat on his hands and wriggled and dropped his head and generally looked like he was getting told off for something.

But the Professor had sat down next to John on the couch and then she'd got out her laptop and they'd spent some time looking at the screen, with John occasionally shrugging, nodding or shaking his head and, although Rodney and Teyla had both tried to interpret this scene neither had been able to.

John had returned. Rodney had lasted thirty seconds before challenging him. John had stiffened and his expression had turned blank. Teyla had thought he would walk away, angry and offended.

But he hadn't. He'd jerked his head at the campfire rocks. They'd sat down. John had stared into the flames and Teyla had tried not to stare at John.

Eventually, he'd said, "I thought they hadn't left me anything. My parents." There'd been some foot shuffling and hands in and out of pockets. "I was always told I had nothing, so I never got much stuff… clothes… you know."

Teyla had remained silent and for once, so had Rodney.

"But it turns out they did. So, Prof Weir helped me order some stuff."

She had tried to apologise, but John had twitched a deflecting hand. "No. I could've said something. I need to learn to tell people… stuff. That's what Prof Weir says." He'd shrugged, they'd all stared at the flames for a while and then they'd gone about their day as normal.

But since then, the post delivery had become almost a daily excitement on the Athar table, speculation being rife about what John would receive next. At first he was embarrassed to be a source of interested gossip, then pleased as the daily unwrapping became a ritual, and then red with embarrassment once more as he'd opened a package at the breakfast table which had burst, sending underwear flying everywhere.

Teyla smiled and choked back a snort of laughter.

"What's up? Not still sniggering over boxergate are you?"

"Such things should not be amusing."

"But they are. That's not, though. Why don't they call it off?"

The rain began in earnest just as the players burst from one corner into the box and took their positions, Athar in black with burgundy patches, Janus in black and gold. Mr Ford followed them in, hovering on his own board.

He released the zips, throwing them in opposite directions and then threw the pointer up between the two ranks of teams. The game began.

Jinto and Wex had told Teyla, at tedious length, about their Skybattle matches. She now wished that she had listened more closely. She had not imagined that play would be quite so fast or difficult to follow. Neither, it appeared, had John, who, straining to catch a zip before the opposition, reached out too far and fell from his board.

Rodney surged out of his seat with a yell.

John fell to the floor of the box and bounced as if he'd landed on a trampoline.

"Oh," said Rodney. He sat down. "Well, that's a relief, anyway. Wait, why isn't he moving? Is he hurt? Someone get the doctor!"

"Rodney it is alright! If a player falls, they have to sit out for five minutes."

"Hmph. He won't like that."

There was an excited roar from the Janus tower. Their team was heading for the goal, moving fast around the Athar players. But no, the two Athar defenders, Miko Kusanagi and Chuck Larson flanked the attacking players, Janus fumbled a pass and Miko caught the pointer. She raised her arms to throw to Chuck. Then a blue streak came out of nowhere and hit her hand. She dropped the pointer, a Janus player caught it and, in a flash, they'd scored. The Janus stands erupted, black and gold banners waving.

The small figure sitting on the forcefield base jumped to his feet, his board hovering by his side. The referee looked at his watch and shook his head. Play resumed.

It started well for Athar. They gained possession of the pointer and moved swiftly down the box, passing the ball between the three attackers, Evan, Jinto and Wex. Above them, Dusty Mehra, a catcher like John, batted a zip toward the opposition and then swept her board into the lower half of the box in pursuit of the other zip.

Evan jinked left as the goal patch swooped away from him. He flew straight toward it, the pointer firmly under his arm. Surely he'd score. But one of the Janus catchers had a zip in his net and flung it toward Evan, and another zip was sent hurtling toward him with a sweep of a stick. They both hit his board and Evan fell. He clung on with one arm, the pointer still tucked under the other, but he was slipping, the surface of his board slick from the rain, his legs swinging in the wind - he was going to fall. But he let the pointer fall instead, it was neatly caught by a Janus player, and Evan flung his other arm over his board and slithered back on.

"Surely that's five minutes!" Rodney was out of his seat again.

Yes, Mr Ford was nodding at John and he hopped up onto his board and returned to the game.

At first it seemed as if John was totally overwhelmed by the speed of play. The two teams wove around each other, diving below, swooping above, some of them sweeping by John so close and so fast that he was buffeted by the wind of their passing and flung out his arms, wobbling. There were jeers and cat-calls from the stands.

Someone behind Teyla said, "He's lost his nerve," but before she could treat them to a hard-eyed glare, Rodney knelt up over the back of his chair.

"John Sheppard does not lose his nerve! He has more nerve in his little finger than the rest of you put together!" Rodney impaled his assembled house with fierce blue eyes.

Teyla noticed Carson, sitting a couple of rows behind with Peter Grodin and his friends. He'd been distant since the incident on the south west pier and she missed his company.

"Sit down, Rodney. Look! John is moving."

Their friend shot, arrow-fast past the Athar stand, crouched low, both hands curved around the edges of his board.

"He's seen one, he's tracking it," said Rodney.

Sure enough, John had anticipated the trajectory of a zip, and as it ricocheted, a blue blur, out of the corner of the box, he caught it neatly in his net, swung around, deflected a sweep of a Janus catcher's stick with the bat end of his own and hurled the zip toward the players besieging his own attackers. He hit one in the back of the head and the player lurched forward, flailed for balance and fell, knocking into another Janus defender and taking him down too.

"Two players out!" said Rodney, gleefully, clapping his hands and bouncing in his seat. He turned around. "Take that, doubters!"

Nobody heard him because the whole stand had erupted in cheering and banner waving.

"What? What did I miss?"

"Athar have scored, Rodney."

"Thanks to Sheppard."

"It is a team effort."

"Yes, but they wouldn't have done that without John. Ten all." Rodney rubbed his hands together. "Now for Athar to surge ahead!"

The players returned to their starting position, Evan calling encouragement to his team and the Janus captain briefly gathering her team for a hurried pep talk. Rain fell steadily. Both teams were soaked, their hair plastered to their heads.

Mr Ford once again threw the pointer straight up between the ranked teams. It was caught by a Janus player, but quickly intercepted by Jinto and passed to Wex. With their two defenders sitting out, the Janus team were hard-pressed and Athar scored again almost straight away. The Janus catchers tried to keep up a double role, watching out for the zips and helping with defence, but John and Dusty flew loops around them catching one zip after the other, sometimes smacking the little balls to each other to get the best angle of attack on the Janus players.

"They're pelting them!" Rodney was bouncing in his seat again. "Smack! And again! Ha!"

Evan passed to Jinto who passed to Wex, who scored to another resounding cheer from all around Teyla, and she cheered along with them.

Then the five minutes were up and the Janus team were back to full strength. Their plan was clear immediately and, while their attackers gained possession of the pointer, both of their catchers set about marking John, who seemed to always be in the right place at the right time to catch a zip.

"It's simple math," said Rodney. "Angle of incidence equals angle of reflection. Go Sheppard!"

"The Janus players can work that out too," said Teyla.

The two Janus catchers converged on John. He sped forward, reaching out with his net, but they pressed close either side of him, bumping his board with theirs and jostling him with the ends of their sticks.

"Foul!" yelled Rodney.

A Janus catcher swiped the zip into her net and sent it spinning toward the Athar attackers. It hit Jinto's back but he didn't falter. John dropped down suddenly to evade his opposite numbers, then sped away, swerving around the melee approaching the Athar goal.

Dusty sent a zip hurtling toward the Janus defenders. John was pursuing the other zip. A Janus catcher raced to intercept Dusty's zip and, drawing back the bat end of her stick, hit it with an almighty crack. It shot straight at John, who, intent on his target, flew straight into it. He staggered, his stick fell from his hands and down to the base of the box, and Teyla was sure John would fall too. But, though the board dropped suddenly and John collapsed onto his hands and knees, he kept his balance.

Wex drop-kicked the pointer, but the goal patch shrank and swerved away. Athar were still just one goal ahead.

The whistle blew for half time.

oOo

"That had to be a foul! Didn't it? It had to be!" Rodney couldn't see John any more, or any of the players. "How long do they get for half time?" He didn't wait for Teyla's answer. "I'm going down there. Are you coming?"

He thought Teyla might try to pacify him, get him to sit down and calm down and probably breathe deeply or something. She didn't.

"Yes. I want to see if John is alright."

They pushed through the crowd of children intent on gossiping about the match or buying popcorn or hot drinks from the stalls run by older students. For once, snacks held no interest for Rodney.

There was a team room at the base of the tower. Rodney didn't think about whether they were allowed in or not. He went in and Teyla followed. The room was lined with benches and hooks, like any changing room. It was stiflingly warm and he undid his coat.

"I'm fine."

Typical John. Surrounded by his team, looking smaller than ever, he sat on a bench, a huge towel around his shoulders, an ice pack held to his cheek.

Rodney barged through, ignoring the fact that the players were all older and bigger than him and could probably wipe the floor with his face if they felt like it.

"Let me see!" He pushed John's hand aside. His friend's cheek was swollen and red and would probably be purple quite soon, and might at some point be good to make fun of, but not right now. "You can't go back out there! You could be concussed or have a fractured cheekbone or a fractured skull or something else fractured - probably your common sense!"

"It's fine, Rodney. Doc Fraiser said so."

"What difference does that make? Medicine's not a proper science! What did she do, wave some bones over you? Shake her magic feathers?" Faces were suddenly blank all around him. Someone dripped steadily onto the floor. "What?" Silence. "What?"

"No bones or feathers, Mr McKay." A firm, authoritative, maybe amused - he really hoped amused - voice spoke behind him.

Rodney turned around, and even if Doctor Fraiser had been ten feet tall rather than the bare couple of inches taller than himself, she couldn't have made him feel more insectlike and in danger of being squished under her shiny high heels. "Um."

"For your information, I used this." She held up a device which looked like a large pocket calculator, as so many Ancient devices did. He bet an actual Ancient pocket calculator looked like something else entirely, maybe a pepper mill or one of those squeegee scraper things. "It's a portable scanner. Which I'll just run over your friend once more. Just to be sure."

Rodney stepped silently out of the dragon's path.

She crouched down in front of John. "Feeling warmer now?"

He nodded.

"Hold still." She held the scanner a few inches from his face and moved it up and down. "Definitely no fractures, not even the tiniest hairline. You're good."

"So, I can go back out there?"

"If you want to. But you know how tough it is now - first-years don't usually make the team. Nobody'd think any the less of you if you chose to sit this one out."

"Yes, they would," said Rodney.

"Thank you, Mr McKay, your input won't be necessary."

"It's okay, Doc. I want to carry on. The team needs me."

"Alright, then." The doctor got up.

Mr Ford appeared in the doorway. "Let's go, folks! Time's up!"

The players let the Doctor leave ahead of them and then began to file out, back into the freezing cold and the rain.

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. We're gonna win this!" said John. His wet hair drooped, his face was pale but for the rapidly purpling cheekbone, but as he walked out into the rain, his eyes were alight with the will to win.

Outside, Professor Theodorus was looming over the much shorter Doctor. "It is unfortunate that Athar will be disadvantaged by the loss of a player," he said. "But very young humans are fragile and perhaps the Athar captain made … an unreliable choice."

"Athar will have their full team, Professor," replied the Doctor. "John Sheppard's plenty tough enough to get the job done."

The chemistry Professor hissed through his teeth. Was he laughing or angry? Rodney couldn't tell. The Wraith turned to the three children and his eyes narrowed when they fell on John.

"Take care, John Sheppard. Skybattle is a game known for unfortunate accidents." With a swirl of his long, black coat, he was gone.

"What a creep!" said Rodney.

"Enough of that, young man!" Doctor Fraiser reprimanded. "The Professor's just a bit too zealous about the House Skybattle cup. Merlin hasn't won for years and he thinks if Janus beats you today, his house will stand a better chance. Now, off you go John - as you said, your team needs you. And you two, go on!"

John followed his team and Rodney and Teyla returned to their seats.

The downpour had increased and Rodney squinted into the grey deluge. "We're not going to be able to see anything in this. Sheppard hasn't got a hope of catching the zips."

"Rain often appears lighter when you are out in it," said Teyla.

"Huh. Really?"

It roared against the walls of their tower, so that when Mr Ford threw up the ball, the shouts of the players were drowned out completely.

"I cannot see John," said Teyla.

"Not surprising. He probably can't even see his own board."

There was a flash of orange, which was probably Evan Lorne and the tagging flashes of blue and red would be Jinto and Wex. Did they have the pointer? Yes, but then there was a flurry of gold flashes on black suits and, as far as Rodney could tell, Janus had possession.

"Where is he?"

Someone yelled from the seats behind them. "Sheppard's lost it this time!" and another loud voice agreed. "That's what you get for putting a little kid on the team."

"What?" Rodney spluttered. "'Little kid'?"

Cheers came from the direction of the Janus tower. They had equalised.

"Rodney, he is there!" Teyla pointed to the nearest top corner of the box. John was as far as he could get into the corner, flattened behind his board and clinging to it with both hands.

"He's hiding behind his board! That last hit's scared the pants off him!"

Rodney stood up and turned around. "Who said that? Who? Come on, let's have you! Come down here and say that!"

"Okay." A brawny sixth-former stood up, arms folded.

"Oh. Er, well, em, maybe I'll let you off this time." Rodney fell heavily back into his seat. John was still cowering in the corner. But he couldn't be cowering; not John. "There's something wrong. There must be something wrong with his board."

"I believe they do sometimes malfunction," said Teyla.

"Do they?" Rodney chewed a fingertip. He shook his head. His friend was squashed into the corner and now his board was moving in and out as if it were trying to hammer John into the converging walls. "No. No, I'm not having that. Someone's messing with his board. Come on!" He got up and pushed Teyla before him.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to find a terminal. Tap into the nearby systems and see if there's anything going on." He glanced over his shoulder across the rain-blurred players and toward the staff tower. Was Professor Theodorus holding something in his hands? Sweeps of rain gusted across the blue box-forcefield and in between gusts, Rodney was sure he could see the Wraith holding something. His head was definitely turned toward John, his gaze steady and unmoving.

They clattered down the stairs.

"There'll be something here somewhere - a terminal for the heating controls, if nothing else." Rodney checked the changing room, flinging coats aside and checking the walls behind.

"Rodney, here! Under here!"

Teyla had found a panel in the angular space beneath the flight of stairs. Rodney wasted no time, selecting a screwdriver from the mini tool set in his jacket pocket and unwinding the cable that let him connect his tablet to the system.

"You carry those all the time?"

"Yes, and a good thing too," said Rodney. He stabbed at the surface of the tablet, grumbling, all the time aware that his friend was in trouble and maybe hurt. They could just stop the match. Did the referee think John had lost his nerve and was hiding?

"What can you do?"

"Not a lot, from here. I'd need access to security systems to detect any signal that might mess with John's board and hacking into that would take time." Professor Theodorus. It had to be the Wraith. Who else might have a reason to hurt or discredit John? Rodney scanned through the easily accessible systems. "Heat and light and… the windows. I can do that." In a flurry of rapid taps, he directed the windows of the staff tower to close and become opaque and he cut out their lights. Would it be enough? Would the staff, blundering and confused in the dark, distract Professor Theodorus from his attack on John?

"What's going on?"

Rodney jumped. Ronon bent to fit his tall shape beneath the overhanging stairs, a hairy, teeth-filled face forcing its way beneath his arm.

"I'm… er… we were just…"

"Sheppard's in trouble. You trying to help?"

"Yes! Someone's messing with his board! In the staff box."

"I'll go and see." Both hairy faces withdrew.

Teyla and Rodney ran outside and looked up, the rain streaming down into their eyes. The players blurred, darting like a shoal of fish this way and that as the pointer passed from one side to another and they swerved to avoid the stinging zips. Rodney had no idea what the score was and, frankly, didn't care. The face of the staff tower was blank, windows closed and opaque.

"I cannot see!" Teyla swiped wet hair away from her face.

"There!" Rodney pointed at a small shape falling out of a top corner toward them. It skimmed the surface of the base and then swept across the width of the box to pause briefly. They could just see the underside of John's board and then above it a line projected, swung back and then flicked forward. A Janus player swerved aside and another lurched and bounced off the side wall. "He's back! John's back in the game!"

It was difficult to see the action from below. Janus regained the pointer and Rodney thought they were going to score, but the Athar keeper, Anne Teldy, saved it and then Athar had possession. He tried to follow John's board but it seemed his mottled black-and-white and Dusty Mehra's yellow board were everywhere and Janus' efforts to score were constantly frustrated by attacks from the hurtling zips.

Athar scored and then scored again. Janus scored, and then Rodney thought they too had scored again. But Mr Ford blew his whistle, the play stopped briefly and the referee spoke to the Janus team captain who then surged away, gesturing angrily. Had the goal been disallowed?

The rain pelted down in Rodney's rapidly numbing face. How much longer could this go on? At last, the referee blew his whistle a long, shrill, final time, and the players scattered and swirled around the box in random sweeps. Who was celebrating?

Hot breath blew on the back of Rodney's neck. He spun round and his face was full of sharp teeth and pink tongue, which, disgustingly, licked him. "Ew! Get off!"

The tongue and teeth turned their attention to Teyla and Rodney looked up at Ronon. "What happened? What was going on with the staff?"

Ronon shrugged. "It was dark. I shoved the Wraith. Hard."

"And?"

"He fell. Onto the others. I went out and held the door shut for a bit."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Then made as if I'd been trying to get in. They've got the lights back on now."

"Well, it doesn't matter now, Sheppard's safe. I think."

Black and gold Janus players trickled from the corner of the box. They didn't look happy and drifted away toward the base of their tower.

Then the Athar players streamed out. Evan Lorne swooped down, skidded over the muddy ground and leapt off his board. "Athar wins!" He high-fived Ronon and disappeared inside the tower.

Jinto and Wex looped around Ronon, Teyla and Rodney, making Runner bark and leap in the air. They flew straight through the door in the base of the tower and tried to fly into the changing rooms, judging by the yelling.

"F-fifty, Th-thirty-five." And there was John, his bare toes disappearing into the waterlogged grass, leaning on his board, his pale face swamped by a purple bruise and a broad grin.

"Thirty-five? I thought it was ten for a goal."

"J-Janus l-lost p-points for f-fouls."

"Right. Great. That's fantastic, but you know that weird rattling sound? That's your teeth. Here. I'll take that." He grabbed John's board. "Go on, get inside, idiot."

Rodney pushed John toward the tower, Teyla folded one of his trembling arms in both of hers, and together they steered their drooping friend inside the warmth of the changing room.

A hard-fought match - with added Wraith tampering? But Athar are victorious and now John, Rodney and Teyla can settle back into uneventful school life… yeah, right. But what's happened to Carson? And how is Teyla managing her Wraithy Spidey-sense? Find out in chapter 9!