But nothing seemed to happen, not for many moments. Sheppard leant, not quite on guard and not quite relaxed, against a rock formation. Thoughts whirled in his gaze, which drifted from Venner to the circular rock formations and back again.
Teyla crouched off to the side, taking everything in silently.
McKay was watching the sunlight slip across the floor and onto the wall, as the day grew older. It was slow, and he found himself mesmerized, staring into space, lost in thoughts that he couldn't remember. He blinked, yanking himself from pointless musings.
Venner, for his part, was motionless. His avid intentness of moments before had not faded, but had transformed into stillness. He leant on a stalagmite opposite the wall, and glanced frequently at his watch. It was when he stood straighter, pushing off the rock, that he caught McKay's attention.
The sun had peaked long ago and was descending toward the horizon. Light from the ceiling angled down in sunset hues, and in seconds had drifted from the floor onto the wall.
McKay shielded his eyes from the bright flare, blinking spots from his vision. To his right Sheppard swore and he was vaguely able to make out Teyla, her face turned away. He looked for Venner, and stopped dead.
The scientist was transfixed, and the words he next heard might have come from any one of them.
"It's writing."
It was what Venner hadn't wanted them to see. It was unlike anything McKay had ever known, and it whispered in his soul.
Impermanent and indecipherable, the strange script was written in the play of light and shadow etched onto rock. Curved and twisted, he couldn't tell if he was looking at letters or characters; it seemed to flow and weave before his eyes with a life of its own.
It was a marvelous feat of engineering, startling and provoking more questions than answers. To his chagrin, McKay realized that there was no real way to copy this writing for later perusal. They had no camera sensitive enough to record the stark contrast of light which gave birth to this script, and making a rubbing would be a pointless exercise.
McKay pulled his eyes from the strange words, flowing and intense, and squinted toward the ceiling, a hundred or more feet above. Whether it was the distance or the sun, he could make out nothing to define the edges of the hole he knew must be there.
"It is beautiful."
"Yes," Sheppard quietly agreed with Athosian.
"It is truly amazing, is it not?" Teyla directed her words to Gabriel, staring up in wonder.
Venner didn't answer, eyes devouring the script in front of them.
"I can't quite make out how it's formed," McKay admitted, peering determinedly upwards. Maybe, if he turned his head on the side, he could . . . "I believe it must be some sort of reverse lattice-work carving superimposed over a hole in the ceiling," he continued. He pulled out a voltmeter, and reached for the far end of the curved wall.
"Ouch!"
Sheppard jerked toward the string of invective being loosed by the scientist. "McKay?"
"It's hot," the scientist swore, shaking his fingers out. His motions slowed as he took a good look at the meter in his hand. "It's charged."
Teyla's attention was swallowed by these events, but once assured that the scientist sported only a red mark on his fingers, she turned to see how Gabriel had reacted.
He hadn't noticed the slight incident at all. Teyla stared at his face, his attention fixed on the wall, and glanced at the others. McKay came over, still shaking his hand.
"Venner?"
"What?" Distraction, preoccupation as his eyes continued to rove the wall in front of them. But there was purpose in the golden gaze.
"You can read it." McKay was certain.
"Yes."
A stark, noncommittal answer. Sheppard frowned, and an expression of puzzled irritation took up residence on McKay's face. Venner took no notice, utterly absorbed by the writing.
"How?"
There was no answer to Sheppard's question; Venner simply finished reading, ignoring the tense silence. A soft sigh indicated that he had finished.
Golden eyes turned to the Major then. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Teyla smiled a little, anticipating the coming explosion, and moved toward the wall.
Sheppard's face tightened. "Yes," he hissed, stepping forward. "You read that writing. What is it? What does it say?"
"It doesn't have a name," Venner responded evenly, unperturbed by the harsh interrogation. He frowned a little, eyes flickering over the words once more, very quickly.
McKay rolled his eyes. "What, you're a linguist and a soldier?" he snorted in disbelief. Teyla turned to look at the wall once more, putting the argument to her back.
"It's a hobby," Gabriel responded, distracted. "No, wait, don't!" he called out as the Athosian reached a hand toward the writing.
"Reading languages that don't have names is a hobby," McKay scoffed. "And I'm Marilyn Monroe."
Blue eyes, dark with mischief, fixed on him.
"It's an expression," McKay added hastily, cutting Sheppard off. The Major tried to keep the thwarted look off his face, and didn't quite manage it.
A sharp cry pulled their attention from the momentary banter. Heads shot around, to see Teyla rear back from the wall as if burned. McKay trotted over. "Didn't I tell you not to touch -"
Teyla's hand hadn't been shocked, as his was. Wincing in pain, she showed him her palm – the skin was blistered and seared.
"How did that happen?" Sheppard demanded. Prompted by a sharp glare, Venner followed him.
Gritting her teeth, Teyla answered in low tones, "I touched the wall, Dr. McKay."
Sheppard gave the wall, barely a foot away, a considering glare.
McKay shook his head, pulling a salve from the first-aid kit sequestered in his pack. "That's not possible. I measured the current running through the rock." Dubious as he obviously felt about such a statement, he was confident as he removed alcohol, bandages and swabs from the plastic container. "It's not high enough to cause first-degree burns," he indicated the blisters on Teyla's palm.
"Then how did this happen?" Sheppard objected.
McKay looked at him blankly.
Sheppard shook his head. "All right," he muttered, making a decision. "Time to get back out there and find what we came for."
Waiting until McKay finished patching Teyla up, Sheppard turned to find Venner closely examining the wall. Under his watchful eye, Venner made no move to get within more than a foot of the wall. "Move out," he ordered, seeing McKay packing up the med kit. Sheppard looked hard at Venner. "This isn't over."
They watched as the light went down, the writing fading. Venner was the last to leave, casting a glance back at the wall to make sure that no one else noticed the glowing, golden handprint, left behind on the rock.
As they left the room, however, Venner seemed to come alive once more. "Ford," he hissed, voice carrying just as far as their ears, and no further.
"Where?" Sheppard whispered back.
Venner tilted his head, frowning. Hazel eyes widened in realization. "He's waiting for us."
They entered their camp, in the exterior room of the tunnel system, with caution. Despite his lack of open hostility towards them, it was very obvious that Ford was dangerous.
The lieutenant was sitting against the wall of the cavern. His weapon was pointed out the door, but his eyes were on the tunnel entrance. On them.
"Ford," said Sheppard. His hands were not on his weapon, but hovered, ready to grab the P-90 should the man turn on them.
"Major," Ford said, standing and saluting.
Teyla and McKay moved forward to flank Sheppard, and Gabriel hung back. If they had a chance to try to convince Ford to come with them willingly, he wanted to let Ford's old team have that chance. It would be a hell of a lot easier than hauling an unwilling man back through the jungle – and its arboreal path – to the 'gate.
"Lieutenant," Sheppard responded. He stepped forward, and then crouched not far from Ford. Taking that as a signal to relax, somewhat, Teyla sat as well, weapons within easy reach. McKay leant against the wall, but Gabriel stayed lingering in the shadows from the doorway, almost out of sight.
"Tell your fourth to come out here," Ford told Sheppard, almost bored.
"Venner," the Major snapped, not taking his eyes from the man in front of him.
Gabriel stepped into the faint light, getting his first good look at the man who had been running from them for weeks. Ford was thin, but his posture and body radiated an unnatural energy. He was being fueled by the drug, but it was taking its toll. The pupils of both eyes had exploded into darkness, consuming the other man's gaze with darkness. The eerie stare he turned on his former teammates was unnerving, to say the least. Deep bags carved their ways down his cheeks from under each eye, giving lie to the idea that Ford might be caught unawares in sleep. It seemed that rest was a luxury the lieutenant no longer indulged in.
Dusky skin was flushed on his hands and arms, yet his face was ashen. He sat in a controlled crouch, back to the wall, eyes resting on each of them in turn. When the strange gaze locked on to him, Gabriel met the other man's even stare with one of his own. For a long moment, they were frozen like that, until Sheppard spoke. "You've been leading us on a wild-goose chase for almost a month, Ford. When are you going to come back to Atlantis?"
"I was looking for the answer," Ford told them, seemingly not answering the question.
"Did you find it?" McKay probed.
"No, I didn't," Ford answered, looking the scientist over carefully. McKay couldn't hide his shiver. "But someone else did."
"Why have you been leading us to planets where the wraith abound?" Teyla asked carefully.
Ford shrugged. "I thought the answer might be on a few of them. As for the rest – well, I've gotta eat."
The words sent a chill through them all.
"Besides," he added, "I'm just here to see that you get back alright."
Sheppard frowned, dismissing his earlier comment for a moment. "Why should you care?"
Ford's head jerked upright, something like anger burning in the depths of his eyes. "It's my duty, sir. After all, you're only here because of me. And the wraith are coming, make no mistake about that. to destroy them, we must unite."
"Are you coming back to Atlantis with us, then?" McKay pressed gently.
Ford shook his head. "Atlantis cannot accept what I am," he declared, somewhat arrogantly.
"And what are you?" Gabriel asked, speaking for the first time. He hadn't left his position near the wall, and of the four members of the team, he hadn't taken his hands from his weapon, not even in a farce of trust.
Ford's head shot up. "Not even you can understand," he snarled.
"Try me."
"I am their destruction!" Ford proclaimed. "I am the ruin of the wraith, the only thing that hunts them."
"You're wrong," Gabriel told him gently.
Sheppard was glaring at him; if they pushed Ford too hard, it was likely he would run off and leave them, and they would never find him again. "Private," Sheppard warned.
"No, let him talk," Ford challenged, surging to his feet. He took a step toward the other man, but Gabriel didn't flinch from his burning gaze. "What do you think I am?"
"I think," Gabriel said quietly, "that you are their victim, more than any of us could ever be."
Ford snorted, loudly, and turned on his heel, ignoring the other man. "I'm going back to the 'gate. Follow me, and I can show you the best way to get there, before we part ways for the last time."
"I won't let you do that," Sheppard warned the other man quietly.
In the doorway, framed by the emerging twilight of this planet, Ford smirked at his former CO. "I know. Try and stop me."
Sheppard followed Ford out the door, grabbing his pack and moving quickly. Snatching their packs and belongings as quickly as possible, the others followed. Venner took up the rear, wondering where the trap was in all this.
It didn't come during the roundabout journey back to the 'gate, though he expected it. No snares or pitfalls appeared in the jungle path they traversed. Local wildlife and fauna kept clear of them, and there was not even a sign of foul weather. Still, the tingling that signified danger loomed in Gabriel's senses.
It wasn't until they reached the 'gate, however, that the threat manifested. Crouching in foliage bordering the clearing which housed the gate, Venner pulled them all up, including Ford, with a hissed warning. "Wraith!"
The 'gate was dialed up, blue event horizon illuminating the darkened clearing. On the heels of his warning, two wraith stepped through, onto the surface of the planet. They were followed by two more, and then another two, and another, before the 'gate shut down.
Sheppard grabbed Ford's arm, as the man silently strained toward his prey. "Wait," he breathed in the addict's ear. "If we plan, we can get them all."
Ford seemed to listen; Sheppard loosed his grip.
With a jerk and a howled leap, everything went to hell. Ford raced out into the clearing with shocking speed, moving with a strength and economy of movement that was clearly inhuman.
"Fire!" Sheppard shouted.
They were discovered; there was no way out. Bullets screamed through the air, opposed by blue stun blasts that ripped holes in the concealing leaves. Two wraith were down already by Ford's hand; down and not moving. For his part, Gabriel had never seen anyone permanently kill a wraith so quickly. Three more were sprawled in the clearing, healing only to be felled by bullets once more each time they rose.
"McKay! Get to the 'gate!" the Major hollered.
Dodging stun blasts, the scientist broke cover and sprinted across the deadly clearing, headed for the DHD. It was a race against time. Ford was momentarily preoccupied with slicing apart the hands of the wraith, heedless of the fire exploding from both sides all around him.
Gabriel moved forward, covering McKay. Slamming his hand on the symbols, the scientist dialed out to Atlantis before hurling himself to the ground behind the DHD. Moments of frenetic fire passed, the noise deafening. "IDC sent!" he yelled back.
"McKay! Get through!" Sheppard ordered, voice carrying over the noise of bullets and stun bolts. "We'll get Ford!"
The scientist nodded, running forward. Gabriel saw him throw himself through the gate before the three remaining team members advanced on Ford. He had left the dead wraith, and turned to butcher the ones who had been freshly killed by the bullets. But on seeing the Atlantis team converging on him from three angles, he had only two choices. Run through the 'gate, or head toward the remaining wraith.
Firing relentlessly in the direction of the stun blasts, Gabriel saw the decision made, shining clearly in his eyes. They were going to lose him.
Sheppard shouted, then. "Ford!"
Distracted, the lieutenant jerked toward his name – and a stun blast hit him from behind. He fell into the path of a second on his way to the ground, and lay still. Sheppard darted forward, letting Venner and Teyla clear a path to the 'gate as he shouldered up the fallen man.
Bearing Ford's weight easily, he ran through the 'gate.
Dodging a stun blast, Teyla retreated through the event horizon, calling for the last member of their team. "Gabriel!"
Glancing her way, the SF launched himself into the event horizon.
And came up on the other side, rolling to his feet and weapon at the ready. The iris slammed into place – letting a last stun bolt slam through the event horizon, into the 'gateroom, hitting Venner in the chest.
Gabriel was pushed back a step, but remained on his feet. Seeing the danger was over, he let his weapon hang by the strap, and turned.
"Biological benefits, huh?" Hank asked him. The 'gate crew came forward to greet him, surprise on their faces.
Sheppard stepped forward, eyes on the SF. He'd deposited Ford on the floor, and Beckett had arrived in less than a minute. The medical team had Ford restrained, and were working on him. "Venner," the Major said quietly, his voice hard. "You owe us some answers."
"Not now."
Surprised at being interrupted, Sheppard's head jerked around. Standing nearby, curious eyes taking the scene in, was the head of Atlantis. Weir looked between the two men. "It'll wait," she said quietly, directing their attention to where Beckett was anxiously examining Ford. "We have other concerns right now."