THIEVES IN ATLANTIS
BY TIPPER
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CHAPTER EIGHT: THE LEOPARDS SHOW THEIR SPOTS
Garron leaned against the far wall of the mess hall kitchens, inside the shadows, watching Neera lording over the handful of marines and scientists ordered to staff it for today's dinner. They ran around like mice under her control, doing everything she ordered. Her commands were as sharp as whip cracks, and the "sous chefs" leapt to answer.
You can change its environment, but you can't change a leopard's spots...especially when that leopard was used to being a military commander.
Garron lifted his eyebrows when Neera glanced over at him, and he indicated for her to join him in the shadows with a head tilt. She grimaced, spat out some more orders, then headed over to meet him.
"What is it?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "I don't have a lot of time. We're making something called Crème Brulee for dessert, and the blowtorches they dropped off are way too big."
"In here," he replied, indicating the meat locker off to the side. He pushed off the wall and headed inside, Neera on his tail. Shutting the door behind them, he waited until the refrigerator noise kicked on to re-establish the temperature inside before speaking.
"I was thinking about changing the plan," he said. Her eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because of this," Garron pulled a small tube out of his pocket, and waved it at Neera. She frowned, not recognizing it. It looked like a short, fat marker pen. Garron handed it over to her.
"It's some sort of virus gene thing," he explained, as Neera popped it open to reveal the needle on the inside. "It gives them the Ancient gene, which is how so many of them can work the Ancestor's equipment. They've managed to recreate the gene in about 48 percentof all cases."
"Half the population," Neera breathed, nodding in wonder. "So they're not naturally gifted."
"Some of them are, but not many. Funny thing—apparently, McKay was the first successful human trial, according to Freya. She found it while going through Beckett's files. Beckett's the brains behind it. He's also been working on some sort of anti-Wraith virus as well. Sounds like he's close."
Neera frowned, looking up. "Anti-Wraith? Really?"
"Freya's still trying to read and compile all the notes, but she thinks that is what he's working on now, based on what she's overheard while following him around."
Neera stared at him a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Well, this is interesting information, Garron, but I don't see how it changes the plan."
"I just think it's worth considering…" he shrugged, "taking more than just Beckett's notes."
Neera's chin lifted, eyes lit with understanding. "You mean you want to kidnap Beckett himself."
He gave a single nod, "Yes."
"No."
He frowned, sulking slightly, "Why not?"
"Because Beckett's already an integral part of the plan. A plan we were told not to deviate from. Who would take his place?"
"Doctor Weir."
Neera shook her head, "Please. She's too savvy. Plus, none of us have spent any time with her."
"Then, what about Lieutenant Cadman? Freya's been…"
"She's a skilled soldier. Too risky."
"Okay, how about—"
"No!" Neera reached out, grabbing Garron's shoulder and holding it tightly. "You're not going to keep throwing names out at me unless you have a plausible scenario to back it up." She stepped closer, "Listen to me. If you want to change a plan, you need to have something viable to change it to. This is too delicate to mess with—we're not changing the plan without knowing exactly where the cards will fall if we do. Right now, you have an idea. It's a good idea, and, with more time, we might have figured out a way to do exactly as you've suggested. But your brother's stupid accident screwed us over, and we've only got a few hours before we implement the plan. It's shaky as it is. So, I ask you…do you have a real alternate plan? Or not?"
Garron grimaced, his eyes dark as he glared back at her, "No."
"Then this discussion is over."
"At the very least, then," Garron pressed, "we should steal as much of these tubes as possible. Perhaps our own scientists can learn to synthesize it for our own use."
She nodded, "That, we can do."
Garron frowned, but nodded. Neera waited a moment longer, and, when he said nothing more, shrugged.
"I have to go," she said, handing the tube back turning around to reach for the door handle.
"Commander, wait," Garron grabbed her arm. "If I can come up with a way to kidnap Beckett, one that works within the plan laid out, will you listen?"
She stared at him for a moment, then shook her arm free. "Yes. But only if you have it by the time I return to our quarters tonight. If you don't…forget it. We go as planned. We've very little time now, Garron, remember that, and everything's in place for the current plan. Changing it now…." She raised her eyebrows.
Garron grimaced but nodded, sighing slightly as she then walked out of the refrigerator without a glance back.
He shivered slightly at the cold…then left himself a little while later.
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Freya feigned interest in drawing a picture on Beckett's desk as Carson said goodnight to Cadman, waiting for him to fetch her for dinner. Freya had already "booked" Carson for both dinner and breakfast, seeing as they were the last ones Freya was supposed to have on Atlantis before they were to be shipped off to the Mainland. Beckett, soft soul that he was, didn't mind. The blonde lieutenant seemed less pleased, but seemed willing to give up her date with him.
Ren had the job of keeping an eye on Cadman to make sure she didn't go looking for Beckett later that night. If she did, Ren would sidetrack her with some excuse about wanting to talk about McKay. Turned out, Cadman loved to talk about McKay—considered herself the resident expert on the man, even though she didn't hang out with him much. It was strange. Made Freya wonder if Cadman had dated McKay first, before turning conquesting eyes on Beckett.
Freya didn't like Cadman. She was, as most adults are, condescending to children. Freya was the first to admit that she was still a kid, but she wasn't eight, as everyone here thought. She was almost as old as Ren, just small for her age. Came from growing up sick most of the time. Her mother had died in childbirth, and her father…died last year. Of course, she was part of the community, but…she did wish, sometimes, that her father had lived long enough to see her fully back on her feet.
And doing her duty for the good of her people.
She was going to make her father proud. Even if he wasn't here to see it.
"Lass?" Beckett's voice called. Freya looked up, then smiled to see Carson leaning into the office to see her.
"You ready?" Beckett asked, eyebrows lifted.
Freya nodded, smiling some more, and slid out of the chair to follow him out. She would be so glad when she didn't have to smile like this anymore.
Her drawing of a Wraith, she left behind.
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Neera woke them all at three in the morning with light shakes. Nodding to each one, she patted each on the head to wish them good luck. Then she left.
About five minutes later, Freya followed her out.
Ren, still half dressed from having staked out Cadman's rooms until a couple of hours before, sat up on his bed, and curled his arms around his knees. He shivered slightly.
He jumped when he felt something heavy placed around his shoulders, and looked up to see Garron staring down at him, adjusting the blanket he'd given to him. There was a touch of concern in the older boy's eyes—Garron hid it most of the time, but he did love his brother. Just…not as much as he loved himself.
"You ready?" the teenager asked. Ren blinked, then, with a nervous swallow, nodded, turning his head forward again to rest his chin on his bent knees.
"Yeah. You?"
Garron just smiled confidently, and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around the younger boy.
"It'll be over soon, Ren. In less than a day, we'll be home, praised as returning heroes. People will remember our names for a long time because of this. The black mark our mother put on the Lorrell name will be erased. You'll see."
"Yeah," Ren said, looking down at the gray blanket covering his legs. "I know."
Garron was still watching him—he could feel the older boy's stare on his face, felt the concern grow into confusion at the lackluster response. Three weeks ago, Ren would have done anything Garron asked, just to make his older brother happy.
He wasn't so sure anymore.
His brother nudged him softly.
"Don't you want to be famous, Ren?" Garron asked.
Ren turned his head to look at him, resting the side of his face on his knees. "Is…is that the only reason you're doing this, Garron? To be famous?"
Garron grimaced, taking in a deep breath before answering..
"No, Ren, it's not just for that, and you know it," he said softly. "This isn't about fame—it's about duty. And it's about our future. If we succeed, which I know we will, we'll be bringing our people both knowledge and technology beyond anything we have now. It'll be a huge advantage in the fight for control of this galaxy."
"Just," Ren sighed, "why do we have to control the galaxy, Garron? The Atlantians honestly only seem interested in defeating the Wraith, learning about stuff and helping people."
"Oh, please, helping people?" Garron pulled his arm away and stood up to glare down at his brother. "Don't you get it, Ren? That's exactly how they exert their control!" He sneered then, pacing away from the bed, "They control through their gestures of help and false kindness. Like the way tamers trap wild animals—encourage them close with promises of food, only to snare them to eat later. The Atlantians make people dependant on them, make them need their help." He paced back to stare down at Ren, the angry frown on his face clear. "Everything out of their mouths is sophistry, can't you see that? They deceive to make us think they're not after the same thing we are. To rule!"
Ren grimaced, thinking about the people he'd met. They didn't seem to want to rule anything.
"But, why do we have to rule, Garron?"
"To make things better for everyone, Ren. Why else?"
"Everyone, who?" He looked up, "You and me? Will our people ruling the galaxy make things better for you and me?"
"What?" Garron looked honestly confused by the question.
"Because I don't think our leaders care about us, Garron. I think they just want to rule us too."
Garron stared at him with wide eyes, then a fire lit in his eyes…and he slapped the younger boy hard across the face.
"Don't talk that way, Ren. Don't ever say that to me again. You take that back!"
Ren was holding his burning face, trying not to shed the tears that had come unbidden to his eyes. Quickly, he nodded. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, "I didn't mean it. I take it back. I take it back. I just…I just….I'm sorry." He buried his face in his knees.
Garron watched him for a moment, feeling the guilt from the tingling still tickling his palm and fingers. With a sad expression, he sat down again on the bed. Ren shifted away from him a little.
"Listen to me, little brother," he said, resting his hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. "I know how much you've fallen in love with this place and the things here…maybe even some of the people too…but this isn't our home. We don't belong here. All this stuff," he gestured at the room, "is nothing but fancy technology and bright lights. You want to learn, to make something useful of yourself, you do what I did, and study to be a soldier. That's how you can serve our people. It's what dad wanted us both to become, remember?"
"A soldier," Ren repeated quietly, his eyes lifting to study the wall opposite him.
"And doing this…it'll wipe the memory of our mother's treason from people's minds. The Lorrell name will be sung instead of spat upon. You'll be famous when you start training, instead of infamous. All the other kids your age will look up to you. You'll be one of the great saviors…." Garron smiled, nudging his brother's body on the bed. "Won't that be great?"
Ren just grimaced, then gave his brother a wry smile. "Yeah, Garron. It'll be great."
The older boy grinned, and rubbed at Ren's head before standing up again. "Good. So…let's get to it. I need your help with the jumper before you go to find McKay. And uh…" Garron bit his lip, rubbing his hands together, "I'm sorry I hit you. I won't do it again, I promise. You just...you made me mad."
Ren sighed and nodded, crawling out of bed and shivering again when his feet his the cold, cold floor.
For the first time in his life...
He didn't want to be Genii anymore.
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TBC...
A/N -- Now you know why I needed this to take place before Coup d'Etat!