THEIVES IN ATLANTIS
BY TIPPER
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CHAPTER ELEVEN: SEARCH PARTIES
McKay moved around people and consoles in the Control Room like a pinball on speed, ricocheting off machinery and bouncing around between the higher and lower levels almost spastically. The dozen or so people he was overseeing seemed to stand almost still with him around, watching everything he did with hint of wonderment—as if his intensity were somehow strange instead of normal. And in a way, it was, because he was acting completely in charge.
And Elizabeth was letting him.
McKay, with Ren, had stormed in here about an hour previously, and, when Elizabeth seemed unable to keep up, had swiftly taken control of coordinating the many search teams now scouring the City. He'd put every available marine and most of the scientists not running experiments into the search. He'd even sent half the Control Room away to search the more sensitive areas like the City's sewer systems and engine rooms, trusting the techs to be the most effective (and circumspect) in those areas.
He and Sheppard had also coordinated sending Jumpers up into the air, to scour the City, Mainland and the water. Meanwhile, he had the skeleton crew left in the Control Room trying to find different ways to use the City's sensors to track someone, one outside of the normal means of pinpointing life signs, since it obviously wasn't working.
And he lorded over the whole affair, capturing and disseminating information with incredible speed, his fear for his friend increasing exponentially every minute that passed. He was almost shaking with it.
And Elizabeth just stayed in the background, rarely saying a word.
McKay wasn't blind. He noticed, with increasing frustration, that only about half the people in the Control Room seemed to be responding to him with any efficiency. The others, including Elizabeth herself, seemed inclined to just sit back and stay out of his way. He was not ignorant of the fact that he was making all the orders, including the ones Elizabeth should have been giving, but he didn't have the time to wait for her to get over whatever it was that was making her act this way.
For some reason, he knew, without a doubt, that Beckett was in deep trouble.
They had to find him, and soon.
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Ronon was searching a part of the lower city with a couple of Sheppard's men. Like Elizabeth, he felt a little woozy, his stomach growling as if unhappy with something. Rubbing at it with a hand, he ignored the looks the other two shot him every so often. Sweat dampened his hair, which he attributed to the dark, heavy air down here in the bowels of the City.
The radio chirruped in his ear, and McKay's voice calling his name came through clearly. He tapped it.
"Hey, McKay."
"Anything?" Rodney asked, his clipped tones a weak cover for the man's obvious worry.
"Not yet," Ronon sighed, peering into yet another dark, empty room. "It's hot down here," he added, unnecessarily.
"Yeah. The City's atmospheric sensors were damaged by the Storm down there. Which could mean the other sensors are off as well. Just keep looking."
Ronon just grunted, then winced as a strangely sharp pain bit at his stomach. The grunt of pain must have echoed over the radio, because Rodney was suddenly asking him if he was okay.
"Yeah, yeah," he replied, swallowing the sickly taste that had risen in his throat. "Fine." He paused a minute, then decided to risk asking another question of McKay. "Hey, is that kid, Ren, still with you?"
"Huh? Yeah. Why?"
"Watch him."
There was a pause, then, "Watch him do what?"
"Just...watch him, McKay."
The pause was longer this time, then, pointedly, "Why?"
"A feeling."
The pause was very long this time, before McKay replied in a gritted tone, "I don't have time for this, Ronon. Just focus on finding Beckett."
Ronon's eyes narrowed, then sighed. What did he expect?
His stomach rolled again, and this time the pain was close to staggering, forcing him to catch himself on a wall. What the hell?
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Teyla sat in the co-pilot's seat, staring out the large widow of Sheppard's jumper as the Colonel expertly slid the ship between the buildings. She had her legs both drawn up against her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. In the back, Doctor Standish, an archaeologist with some medical training above standard field training, studied different kinds of sensor information scrolling down on a laptop. She caught him yawning at one point, and grimaced. She would have chastised him for not being completely focused, but...she had yawned a few times herself.
She couldn't seem to stop herself.
Her head was pounding with a headache now, and she covered up her third yawn in as many minutes with both hands, annoyed when her eyes watered slightly with the force of it. Something was wrong with her, she knew that. But, right now, finding Beckett was more important.
She glanced over at Sheppard, saw him sitting ram-rod straight in his chair, eyes intently tracking the outside of the City for any sign of the physician. In the distance, her eyes briefly caught sight of another jumper scanning a different pier. From here, it was like catching sight of a small bird disappearing into the trees.
"You okay?" Sheppard asked suddenly, glancing at her worriedly. She frowned—how could he tell?
"I am...a little unwell," she admitted. "But more than well enough to continue."
He nodded, his gaze already back on the buildings.
"Something you ate?" he asked. There was a touch of humor in his voice. "Perhaps...eating too much?"
She snorted, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood by making fun of the fact that she probably ate twice as much as she normally did in the morning. She shook her head slightly, then frowned as the motion made her a little dizzy.
And suddenly, his crack about food seemed less amusing.
"Colonel," she said, broaching the subject quietly, "have you...spent much time with Neera and her children since they have been here?"
His eyes narrowed a touch, and he glanced at her again briefly before returning his gaze forward. "Why?"
"Ronon said something to me. He is...concerned that they are not," she took in a breath, "what they seem."
He shrugged. "I've spent time with the boy, Ren," he said, "mainly because he's been following McKay around. He's a good kid."
She nodded, "Following McKay around? Is that how Rodney was close enough to help him when—"
"Yeah."
She nodded again, "And...you believe the boy to be honest?"
Sheppard snorted. "What? He's twelve years old, Teyla. Ronon's being paranoid."
"Neera is not twelve. Nor is Garron."
Sheppard's brow furrowed, and he slowed the ship down into a hover. He turned to look at her, his eyes dark.
"What does this have to do with Beckett?"
She grimaced, lowering her eyes slightly. "Nothing."
"Then let's talk about it after we find our missing man, okay?"
She gave a single nod, "Of course. I am sorry. I do not know why I even thought to ask."
But Sheppard was no longer listening, turning his attention back to the search.
Another wave of dizziness waved through Teyla, and she frowned. Hardening her jaw, she resolved to ignore it.
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Gritting his teeth, McKay was running a sensor sweep of the piers and outlying ocean for the third time, only to come up empty…again.
"Damn it!" he swore, slamming a hand down on a console. "This doesn't make sense! He couldn't have just disappeared off the sensors!"
"Unless he's dead," Elizabeth said quietly.
Rodney gritted his teeth, turning to stare at her darkly. "We're not going there. Not yet."
She winced slightly, and nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry," Elizabeth said quietly, leaning against a pillar near him, covering a yawn. "So…he left somehow."
"And how would he do that, huh?" McKay snapped sarcastically, glaring at her, getting tired of her attitude (or lack thereof). "Did he sprout wings and fly away? Grow gills and dive into the ocean? Did he find the Rocketeer's jet pack and decide to take it for a spin?"
Elizabeth shrugged, "Well, the last…perhaps he did find something that…"
"Oh, please! You're not serious?" McKay mocked, arms thrown out wide. "This is Beckett we're talking about! The man hates to fly! He'd never try out something like that without checking with us first. I don't care how big of an emergency it was—he always hesitates before using any technology for the first time! He would have radioed!"
"You, you mean," Elizabeth said quietly, "He would have radioed you."
McKay shrugged, nodding, "Yes. Yes, he would."
She tilted her head, brow furrowing a little, "Don't tell me you're feeling put out because he may not have radioed you if—"
"Whatever it is you're going to say," Rodney snapped, glaring darkly at Elizabeth. "Don't." Inside, he roiled—how dare she think he was that shallow!
Her brow furrowed further, then shifted to a sort of confused expression, as if she herself didn't know why she'd had that thought.
"Okay," McKay said, looking down at the Canadian Sergeant's console. The tech was one of the few who seemed to be working with his usual alacrity. "What is the status of the jumpers?"
"We have six in the air, sir, and two in the water," the tech replied, hitting some buttons to show their signals on the big screen behind his position. "Four are combing the piers and other above ground areas of the City, two are scouring the Mainland, and two are checking the underside of the City and the oceanbed."
"Okay." Rodney grimaced, watching as the lights representing the ships moved slowly across the screen. "Which one is Sheppard flying again?"
"Jumper Five, sir."
"Of course he is," McKay muttered. Jumper Five was the ship they had used on the trip where they'd lost Gall and Abrams. Sheppard had a strange affection for it. The scientist walked over to another screen, this one showing the interior of the City. Zelenka was sitting by the console below it, yawning and slowly keying in commands with one hand. McKay growled slightly, and the Czech blinked and sat up straighter, blushing slightly in embarrassment.
"Well?" McKay demanded harshly, coming dangerously close to shoving Radek out of the chair and taking over.
"I've managed to make the biometric sensors sensitive enough to differentiate gender," Radek said, smiling proudly up at McKay. "So, at least now, we know where the men are." He looked over at the screen showing the City's sensor grid, and it lit up with blinking yellow and blue lights. "The men are in yellow."
McKay stared at it for a few moments before shaking his head. "What the hell are you doing? Don't you get it? His life sign is just not showing up! Period! Who cares what color it could be. Damn it, Radek, stop playing around and come up with some other way to track him!"
"Like what?" Zelenka asked, sounding honestly curious.
McKay stared at him. Since when did he have to spell things out for the engineer? "Like something else! Not life signs!"
Radek just blinked some more, muttered something in Czech, and turned around back to his computer.
Grimacing, Rodney tapped his radio, "Jumper Five, this is McKay, do you read?"
"Loud and clear, McKay," Sheppard called back. "Emphasis on loud." Unlike earlier, there was a definite spark back in the man's voice. Whether it was because he was flying, or simply that he'd broken out of whatever slump he'd been in, Sheppard sounded like he was back to his old self. "Any luck?" the colonel asked.
"I was about to ask you the same thing? Where are you?"
"South pier. Running along the lower quays. We've done one overhead scan already, and are now trying a more topographical approach."
"Is Cadman with you?"
"No, Teyla is." Sheppard replied. "Cadman's flying Jumper Two."
McKay nodded, and hit his radio again, "Jumper Two, you copy?"
"Have you found something?" Laura's voice came over the comm., both grating (at least to his ears) and scared at the same time.
McKay sighed "No. Not yet. I take it you haven't either?"
She sighed over the radio. "No. Sergeant Greene and I are searching the northwest pier, but so far nothing."
"I wanted to ask, you said you thought he'd be wearing his grey sweatshirt, is that right?"
"Yeah."
"Which is the one he uses when he goes jogging, right?"
"Yeah," Cadman sighed again. "But I know he wasn't planning on doing any running this morning, Rodney. He was—"
"Not what I'm asking, Cadman," McKay snapped. "I want to know if he usually goes jogging with anything, besides his radio?"
"His radio? You mean his earpiece?"
"Yeah."
"He doesn't run with his earpiece. He runs with a handheld."
The caused McKay to lift an eyebrow, "Really? Why?"
"Because he uses my iPod when he runs, so he has the earbuds in."
"Oh."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to see if there was something else we could scan for." McKay pursed his lips, staring at the screen at the "PJ-02" symbol slowly floating along the northwest pier. "Do you think he might have it with him now?"
There was a pause, then, "Maybe. I didn't see it in his room."
McKay considered this. The iPod was an insignificant device by Atlantian standards. It emitted low, almost negligible levels of power. Even if they were to try to look for it, it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack of needles, with all the energy Atlantis emitted even when it wasn't at full power.
Still…better than nothing. He tapped his radio again.
"Jumpers in the air, this is McKay. Set one of the sensors in your display to search for digital sound waves, namely music. Beckett may have an iPod, and, if it's playing…and you're close enough, the jumper might be able to hear it."
A chorus of "rogers" came over the link, and McKay sighed. Talk about grasping at straws.
Emitting a grunt of frustration, he turned away from the screen and found himself face to face with Ren. The boy had been shadowing him from the side, watching everything he did while staying out of his way. McKay had almost forgotten he was there, and, consequently, almost ran into him.
"What are you doing?" he snapped, rocking back on his left leg. "I told you to stay out of my—"
"I have an idea," Ren said quietly. "Will you come with me?"
McKay frowned, but found that he himself was woefully out of ideas. With a short sigh, he glanced at Elizabeth.
"Be right back. Keep looking."
She arched an eyebrow at him, but nodded.
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Down in Beckett's Office, Neera was hurriedly stuffing all the notes and files Freya had guessed were important and several boxes of gene therapy needles into two large knapsacks. Freya's knapsack would be almost as big as she was, but Neera knew the girl could take the weight. She'd trained for months to be able to handle it.
Freya herself was rapidly trying to download the rest of the science teams notes onto the two laptops they were stealing. The eleven year old was scarily adept at the technology—Neera had to admit, Freya had been a good choice for the mission, despite her frail appearance. Of course, the fact that the little girl's father and older brother had died trying to raid Atlantis a year ago with Commander Kolya hadn't hurt. Revenge was a powerful motivator.
Glancing up, Neera looked at the wall clock. It was nearing noon.
They didn't have a lot of time. They needed to take full advantage of the distractions they had created, and time was running out. The sedative would be kicking in fully soon—there were already some people in the infirmary complaining of stomach pains and fatigue. The purpose behind it had just been to slow the Atlantian's reactions down, maybe even put some people to sleep, but depending on how much people ate, and whether some might be allergic to the drug...when it really hit, people would realize it wasn't normal and start looking for a cause. Plus, listening on Beckett's radio to the chatter between the search parties, it was possible one of the jumpers would get lucky before they wanted it to. And what the hell was an eye-pod? Just too many variables that could go wrong…
"Almost done?" she asked Freya.
"Nearly," the girl replied, not looking up from the screen. "The machines just won't go any faster."
Neera nodded, not about to argue, and glanced worriedly out into the infirmary—it was getting busier and busier out there. Meaning, getting out unnoticed was going to be almost impossible soon. The only good thing was that no one was looking for them, and most of the marines were still spread out around the City—far, far from the Control Tower. Worse came to worse, she could handle the few still hanging around here. For now. But if they found Beckett, and the marines returned to the hub...and if they put together that the breakfast had been laced...
"Just hurry as best you can," she said.
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McKay followed Ren out into the hall, then over to a set of stairs that led up to the jumper bay. He frowned, wondering at the round about route—after all, there were stairs in the Control Room that led directly to the same place. But…maybe Ren didn't remember that?
Shaking his head, he followed the boy up several levels to the top, then through the doors into the bay. It was flooded with light from the open hanger doors overhead, sunlight streaming down, revealing dustmotes and pollen glittering in the atmosphere.
"Okay," McKay said, following Ren over to the main console by the other door. "Why are we here?"
"Because I noticed something when that gate tech of yours…the one with the same patch as you? What's his name again?...when he was calling up information on the jumpers." Ren hit a few keys, then looked up at the screen. "There," he said, pointing at it, "see?"
McKay frowned, not understanding. The screen showed a listing of all the available jumpers. It read seven jumpers inside the bay, and eight outside…wait…hang on…
The bay was a pentagon, with three rows of stacks jumper docks on each wall. In other words, room for 15 jumpers. There were eight outside, so there should have been seven powered down jumpers registering in the bay. But one of the seven was powered up.
Turning, he looked around, and saw nine empty slots.
One of the jumpers in here was cloaked.
"You said," Ren added then, "that when a jumper is cloaked, you can't see the life signs inside it, right?"
McKay's eyes widened, then, slowly, he smiled. He grinned at Ren, "You're really going to be something someday," he said, turning around to the console again. He typed in a few very rapid commands, including activating a new subroutine implemented after the Siege, then turned around again. Resting his hands on his hips, he tried to remember which jumpers were in the air.
As he ticked off each dock, he realized Jumper Four was the one that was cloaked.
Grinning he reached up to grab his radio, when he felt a hand grab his wrist.
Frowning, he looked at Ren, who was the one holding it.
"What are you doing?" he snapped. "I have to radio for—"
"I'm sorry, Doctor McKay," Ren said quietly, "but I can't let you do that."
McKay stared at him, confused, then freed his wrist from the boy's grip with a fierce tug.
"Don't be ridiculous! What are you trying to do?"
Ren shook his head. "Not me." And the boy's eyes shifted to look over McKay's left shoulder.
McKay quickly turned his head…just in time to see Garron hit him with a Wraith stunner.
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TBC...
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