Chapter Thirteen
Dealing With the Devil
Carson tossed the dirty bandages in the pile beside Sheppard's sleeping bag. They'd taken advantage of the temporary reprieve to treat the Major, and McKay. Rodney was resting after Beckett had dosed him with a double dose of antibiotic, though he didn't have a pharmacy on hand to treat the cough, and congestion. After McKay was settled, Sheppard had allowed Carson to work on his arm, and what Beckett saw caused a great deal of concern. The edges of the wounds were a hot, angry crimson, with weeping, and pockets of pus growing larger in crevices of the wound.
If they were in the infirmary, Sheppard would be on an IV, and having the wound debrided, but they weren't in the infirmary, and they didn't have IV antibiotics, so he gave Sheppard a double dose of antibiotics also, frowning at the low level left in the bottle. He took a moment to examine Sheppard visually. He was laying with his eyes closed, lines of pain drawn up between his eyebrows, and his teeth were clenched tight. Cleaning his arm, and changing the bandages, had hurt, a lot, and he knew Sheppard was trying to not shout, or cause a fuss. "All done," Carson said softly, as he taped the end of the bandage.
John focused on Beckett. "How long has it been?"
"An hour," Carson stared off towards the middle of the room, towards the path the crazy Ancient had followed earlier. "Do you think he'll come back soon?"
Sheppard didn't know. He stayed on his back, staring up towards the ceiling, but you couldn't distinguish anything from this far down, all you could see was the light tapering into darkness. "Who knows, but we need to at least try and make a break for it. For what it's worth, we've got our weapons."
Ford was standing nearby. "Against an Ancient?" he asked doubtfully.
John rolled his head to the side, looking at the Lieutenant. "You have a better idea?"
"Short of not being here," Ford said with a small grin. "No."
"Didn't think so," Sheppard replied dryly.
"If we get out " Teyla began.
"Not if, when," Sheppard insisted, pushing himself into a sitting position, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arm hanging loosely to his side. He was reluctant to move it the least amount.
Teyla caught the Major's eyes, and held his gaze for a heartbeat of time. "When," she said, agreeing, "we get out, how do we return to Atlantis?"
And that was the question of the week. John had no idea how they were going to get home. If they were lucky, they could probably escape the building, but this was a crazy Ancient's home. The guy probably knew every trick to the gates. Sheppard realized what he was thinking. Gigno would know how they could get home, all they needed to do was trick the old man into giving up the secret to the gates! "The old guy!" he said, his voice giddy, and not in some small part because of the painkiller Beckett had given him earlier.
"Major?" Teyla asked quizzically.
"He knows, Teyla," John stood excitedly. "He'll know how to gate off this planet!" He felt like laughing, finally, one problem they could potentially solve. "All we have to do is trick him into spilling the beans!"
Ford didn't look convinced. "How do you know he isn't listening to us right now?"
John refused to be dissuaded. "We don't, but we've got to take some chances, Ford."
"So you want to wait for this crazy Ancient to come back?" Beckett asked, his words laced with skepticism. "Possibly, this is one of the worst ideas you've had."
Sheppard was grinning like a schoolboy on a Friday afternoon. "No, he's not going to kill us. Think about it," he urged. "This guys been banished for thousands of years. You think he's going to kill the first company he's had in ages?"
Ford was nodding. "Actually, yes."
"I'm with Ford." A weak voice from their right broke the tension. John twisted to see McKay propped on an elbow. "This guy is psycho, Major. He could go all evil and kill us in a twisted fit, do you really want to take that chance?"
"Hell no, McKay, but what choice do we have?" Sheppard was losing the earlier elation, his mood punctured like a balloon, and McKay was the stickpin. "Look, even if we can get out of here, we still can't get home. This is our best shot. Maybe, we can talk him into letting us go."
John saw the disbelieving looks cross his teammates features. He rolled his eyes, impatience with the debate wearing his temper thin. "It could happen," he defended.
"Where did you learn this kind of insane optimism?" McKay asked, and it wasn't complimentary.
"Where did you learn your extreme pessimism?" Sheppard bit back.
Ford put a calming hand out in the air, "Major, I'm with McKay on this one. Gigno is nuts."
"Has he tried to hurt us?" Sheppard persisted.
Beckett was shaking his head no, when McKay's glare silenced his movement. John dug in. "Exactly. Sure, he's acting a little Sybil on us, but he hasn't done anything."
"Yet," McKay said pointedly.
Sheppard couldn't refute the yet, which is precisely why McKay used it. When it came to logic, you can't argue against the future, because it's uncertain, and the simple and irrefutable aspect of the future, is that it hasn't happened, yet. In some cases, you could argue past behavior to refute the possible future, but in this case, Gigno's past history would appear to not favor that approach. Although, none of them knew why he'd been banished here, and if you wanted to get even more on thin ice, all the information they had was coming from some dream he'd had. Shaky ground was an understatement; sinkhole was probably a more apt description.
John continued to stare at them, not giving ground, but truth be told, he was tired, and arguing wore him down. He'd told McKay to shut up more times than he could count on his two hands, and probably more than could be counted on four hands. He had decided, and that was that. Sometimes being the one in charge left a lot to be desired. "I'm going to talk to him," he said, and he said it with the finality that left little room for misinterpretation. Ford, Teyla and Beckett got it, and didn't argue, McKay, on the other hand, didn't get it. Or, maybe he did, and just hated to accept it.
"It's stupid, Major. He could kill us all."
"And he could give us what we need, and we walk out of here, and go home."
"And the odds of that are?" McKay sniped.
Sheppard faced him down. "Incalculable, too many unknowns."
"Make assumptions," McKay said with equal resolve.
"You know what they say about assumptions, Mckay," John drawled.
"And the ass this time would be you."
Sheppard glared. "Sorry, the position's already taken."
Beckett had been standing by, uncertain of intervening, but the two had gotten to the point where Carson expected blows to begin any minute. If it weren't for the men being sick, and Sheppard's arm, he'd probably let them. They could probably use the tension release, but they weren't in any condition to be brawling. "Major, unless you're planning on fighting with your feet, this conversation is at an end."
Sheppard pulled his stare off of McKay, and glanced at Beckett, "It is now. We wait for Gigno to come back."
No one said anything, not even McKay. Sheppard sat back on his bag, and slid down, stretching his legs out, and trying to not groan at the pain it caused, which rippled up through his shoulder, ricocheting off his collarbone, and bouncing straight into the base of his skull. This sucked. And on top of everything else, he had to go pee.
"Major," a soft voice whispered in his ear.
John was sleeping, and it was that hard sleep, when you wake up with grit in your eyes, and a hung over feeling without the party the night before. He didn't wake up easily, but the voice became more insistent, and he realized his body was being rocked back and forth, which was also growing increasingly more violent.
"What?" he finally barked, trying to push away the person who was to blame, and regretting it instantly, for in that sleep-drugged state, he used his clawed arm, and the pain from the unintentional use was indescribable. He couldn't keep the cry back, and he instantly yanked the wounded limb close to his body.
"Sorry!" the voice said sharply. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay, what the hell do you need?" Sheppard snapped. He still hadn't opened his eyes but the bumbling apology had revealed that it was none other than McKay tormenting him.
He felt McKay pull back, and could feel the waves mixed with hurt indignation radiating from the physicist. "Your friend is almost here," McKay hissed.
This caused John to become still. "He's not my friend."
"Whatever," McKay replied. "What are we going to do?"
Sheppard opened his eyes, and warily got up, taking it nice and slow this time, like an old man suffering from gout. He glared at McKay once he was fully upright, and eye level. "We," he pointed at Rodney's chest, "are not going to do anything. I am going to handle this."
Rodney looked ready to say something abrasive. His cheeks were sporting a hint of anger, and his eyelid was twitching in just that way it did when he was trying to control his temper. "Fine," he said, stabbing a finger back at Sheppard. "You do that."
Further conversation was precluded by Gigno's arrival. He was looking more like the old man they had met initially. For all intents, he looked the warm and welcoming Grandfather that any one of them could've grown up learning chess from, and how to bait your hook just so, and learning what tree grows where, and what type of bird flew south for the winter. Innocent, kind and loving, but they knew that appearances could be deceiving. The only problem was, who was deceiving whom?
Gigno's tunic looked as neat as a pin, and he clasped his hands in front of him, smiling brightly. "You look better, Major!"
Sheppard tried to paste on an air of contentment. "I feel better, thanks."
"Are you ready then?" Gigno seemed overly eager, the first crack in his veneer that John has seen since he'd arrived.
"Ready?" Sheppard felt his nerves tighten twofold; ready for what? Ready to die? Ready to play a game? Ready to go on a tour? That was a pretty loaded question.
The old man seemed to eye Sheppard with disappointment that made John's inside coil with warning. "To see the miracle that is my world." Gigno explained.
A statement like that should mean something. It'd be words promising something pure, and incredible. Something marvelous, and transcendental, but the words spoken from Gigno fell on his shoulders like a death sentence. There were four-alarm bells ringing throughout his mind.
The Ancient was still watching them, façade firmly in place, but there was something there that John was picking up on, and it was so subtle that he couldn't put words to thought. "We need to tell our friends where we are." Sheppard said it as evenly as he could, trying to keep out any hint of deception. Here he sprung the surprise he'd been planning.
Gigno considered John, his gaze was delving deep into his inner thoughts, and Sheppard fought to remain as noncommittal and casual as possible. "Maybe, that might be possible," the old man allowed, surprising John with his acquiescence.
"Teyla and Lieutenant Ford could return to the Stargate, and radio our base, letting our people know we are safe." Sheppard figured Gigno wouldn't want most of them going, or he'd offered to stay by himself. He would've sent McKay and Beckett, but he knew he needed Beckett with him, and if McKay went without Beckett, than he would be bereft of the medical care that they both needed. This was the only solution he could come up with, but he hoped he wasn't dooming the two men to some grisly fate alongside him.
John could see his offer pleased the old guy, and that disturbed him on some subconscious level. Gigno was nodding genially. "That would be acceptable," Gigno looked towards Ford and Teyla. "Will you need transport to the Stargate?"
Sheppard thought of asking which one, but stopped himself. He didn't know what the old guy knew they knew, and he didn't want to give away anything that might compromise his plan. "No," he answered for Ford. "They know the way out, just the door, at the top, it wouldn't open for us before."
Gigno seemed to look inside himself, as if carrying on a conversation with someone else, then focused on the group. "Of course. It will open for you now."
"Sir?" Ford asked the question without saying anything at all.
"Lieutenant, take what gear you can, get to the gate and let our people know we're safe," here Sheppard pierced Ford with a sharp look, "It's just a jump to the gate, it won't take you long."
Ford smiled easily, catching the clue. "Yes, Sir."
Teyla wasn't as assured. "Will you be alright, Major?"
"We'll be fine, right, Gigno?" Sheppard grinned, a little bit of reverse psychology on the crazy omniscient guy.
"Certainly!" Gigno declared, and he looked like an old stuffy butler who had the quality of his service questioned.
"Let's get this show on the road. Where is this miraculous place you want to show us?" Sheppard asked, eager to get Ford and Teyla safely on their way.
"Right this way, if you please." Gigno held a hand outstretched, which didn't take them back the way he had come previously, but up the holographic doorway that led back the way they had originally came.
Sheppard, Beckett and McKay shared puzzled looks, but walked ahead, and through the door, coming out at the end of the long walkway that had wound the way down from their earlier entrance. Gigno stepped out, and around them, taking the lead.
John shrugged at the questioning looks from the others, and fell into step behind the old man. This is what they were here for, after all. "We're off to see the wizard," he muttered.
Sheppard wondered if the Ancient was trying to walk them to death. They had surpassed the level at which they'd arrived, and continued upward, and upward, and upward some more. John had marveled before at the size of the complex, and as they rose higher, that marvel had bled into sheer astonishment. There was no possible way this complex existed without some form of camouflaging. They had to be twenty to thirty stories in the sky.
John made the mistake of looking down, leaning slightly against the burnished metal railing, and felt an intense spike of vertigo. He pulled himself back. That was a long, long way down. Though the railing was decorative in nature, it provided a small amount of reassurance. He cleared his throat. "Ah, Gigno?"
"Yes?" The old guy wasn't even breathing hard, and didn't break stride.
Sheppard, on the other hand, and Beckett and McKay, were breathing hard, each breath coming faster than the one before. McKay's coughing was to the point where John and Carson were exchanging worried looks. "How much longer?" McKay's face had gone as pale as a blood-drained limb, and it was clear the earlier rest had only carried him so far.
"We're here, Major." Gigno slid his hand over an invisible panel, and a door slid open to reveal a chamber.
McKay shook off Sheppard's offer of support, and stumbled into the room under his own power. It looked like some command deck, like what they had in the Atlantis gateroom, but there wasn't any gate here. The chamber overlooked the interior of the complex, hanging wide, and vast, and empty as a tomb that had been raided.
They were deadly silent, except for the harsh staccato coughing from McKay. He had crossed the point where he could subdue the reflex, and was struggling to overcome the constant painful hacking. Sheppard knew they were about as bad as they could get and still function. Beckett's patch jobs weren't meant as a cure, and as each hour passed, the patching grew thinner.
John thought the command center was a nice touch, but he had yet to see anything strike him as miraculous. He pondered saying as much, but wanted to see what the old guy had to say first. Always better to be on the defense, instead of the offense, in a situation where you didn't know all the rules of the game.
Gigno was smiling gleefully, and as he passed by console after console in the room, panels responded and lit brightly, suffused with a warm glow. "This is the brain of the complex," he enthused.
McKay had managed to gain control over the harsh coughing, and his face had become transfixed, from a pale, shadow of pain, to excitement and disbelief. "You're using the cloaking technology!"
Sheppard and Beckett shared equal confusion. "What?" Sheppard saw Gigno beam at McKay, a star pupil pleasing his master.
"Very good, Doctor McKay," and Gigno pushed a panel on the console he stood beside.
Sheppard could've swore he actually heard it appear, but his mind told him that wasn't possible. He turned around, and gaped at what hung in the air. A Stargate! The complex had it's own Stargate, but it wasn't fixed on the ground, or anywhere you could get to it by any other method other than Jumper. "What the hell?"
"It's the main gate, Major Sheppard. The gate that controls all the others on this planet, haven't you guessed?"
John let his eyes drift close for a brief moment in time, trying to recall facts, and knowledge he'd once held for a span of time that was eternity in a second. "The prototype," he said, sliding his eyes open, and staring again at the proof before him.
Gigno moved from the console. "Excellent, I see you two at the very least, will be a wonderful addition to our world!"
"Addition?" Beckett frowned with the implication.
"Oh yes, Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay will ascend, and join me, and together we will accomplish so much! What was lost, can be remade. Together, there is so much we can do!" Gigno seemed like a dam that had burst, and words flowed out like a waterfall. "When I first sensed you, I knew! You three all have potential, but you two," and he stared at John and Rodney, "You two are very special. Major, you've already tasted our world, just a little bit."
"What if we don't want to ascend?" Rodney looked like a resentful two year old, being given the wrong candy by an indulgent Grandparent. The truth was, he was scared. He wasn't ready to die, even if it wasn't death in the normal sense.
Gigno smiled coyly. "Do you ask your child if they wish to eat, or sleep, or do anything that is best for them?"
Beckett looked helplessly at Sheppard, who was scowling. "Look, Gigno, I appreciate what you are offering us, really, I do, but you've got to understand, we've got lives out there. We have people depending on us."
"They are insignificant."
Carson seemed to take great offense to Gigno's cavalier dismissal of their people. He reddened, "Bloody hell," he blustered. "They aren't insignificant, and what kind of God are you, what happened to free will?"
"You still have free will, Doctor Beckett. Death or ascension, it is your choice. I let the others go. They were unimportant."
"Are you a gambling man?" Sheppard asked suddenly. His question was awkward, and jarring. It was the last thing Gigno expected, and it was exactly why he said it.
"Gambling, Major?"
"Gambling," John said with purpose. "You've been here a long time. Alone. Bored. After all, what's an Ancient to do with eternity on his hands?"
Gigno seemed off-kilter, he narrowed his gaze, "What's your point, Major?"
"Oh, I was thinking maybe we could play a little game, maybe make a little bet on the outcome."
Beckett and McKay thought Sheppard had cracked, but Gigno seemed intrigued. "Continue."
"What say you set a task. If we win, we go free. If we lose, we'll do whatever you want, free will and everything." John knew he was taking a leap, speaking for the other two, but if this worked, it offered their best hope. At the very least it was a stalling tactic.
Gigno laughed. "I have you already."
"No," McKay said. "You don't. You gave us an out."
Gigno took his eyes from the Major, and shifted them over to McKay, surprised to see Rodney staring at him defiantly. "You said we could chose death. We'd win, and you'd lose." McKay finished, and he ended on a triumphant note. McKay knew he'd hit the nail on the head. Gigno wanted them, and was certain they would choose life over death. He was wrong.
Beckett pulled his lips into a sick smile, finding courage in that small place inside, where the depth of your person resides. "We'd choose death," he stated calmly, but inside he was shaking.
Gigno took his tongue, and rubbed his front teeth, from the back, and hesitated. "Any task I set?"
Sheppard said a prayer to whatever God might be listening. "Anything, but if we win, we go free. You tell us how to use the gate system to go home. If we lose, we'll do what you want."
"Can you heal them?" Beckett asked suddenly. "Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay are sick. They need help. If you don't, we're at a disadvantage. It won't be a real victory."
Gigno waved a hand over the panel, and the Stargate wavered, and dissolved into nothingness. He stepped away from the panel, and the maniacal glee was evident in his posture, his eyes, his movement. Beckett grimaced, wishing he could take it back. But damn it, it was true. They'd get nowhere with the Major and McKay in such sorry shape.
"My will be done," Gigno whispered.
A bright light flared from the floor up, bathing them all in a hot white burning mist. Sheppard felt his body pierced as if by a million tiny arrows. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, and all he felt was an agony that felt as if it began at the beginning of time and would last until the final atom breathed it's last goodbye. He cried out, and his mind shut down.
AN: Just wanted to apologize for the delay. RL has been ignoring my complaints, and drawing me away. The good news, this chapter was really long, so at the very least, it'll take a bit to read! Thanks everyone for the reviews, they are the highlight of my day!
