John brought the Jumper smoothly through the 'gate. He immediately felt the tension on board lessen, as though Lorne and his team had been expecting some other trauma to befall them on the way back. He tried to be sympathetic, but it was hard with Rodney sitting at his side, trying to contain his laughter the whole way. None of the Crethins were over four foot tall. Even John had to admit the image of Lorne and his crack team being overpowered a crowd of munchkins was amusing.
Elizabeth spoke over the radio as soon as they cleared the event horizon. "Colonel Sheppard, I'd like you in my office as soon as possible."
John looked around at his passengers (well, not at Rodney, because that would end all pretence of Rodney keeping his laughter in check.) "I don't think Lorne and the guys are in any state to go walking up stairs."
Lorne looked ready to disagree, but Elizabeth said "It's actually you and Rodney I want to speak to. It sounds like Carson's found something."
-
"So, let me make sure I have this right," John said. "You've been signaled by another group of people on the planet. Ones we didn't know anything about."
"Yes," Teyla said. There was no visual available, and her disembodied voice filled the office. "The message is set to repeat every two hours, on an 'automation' system." She hesitated over the unfamiliar word. "The message says – 'Welcome, travelers. We are traders and we wish to meet those with the technological advancement to understand our message, to discuss mutual trading opportunities. Co-ordinates follow. You will be met by a representative."
"Well, they obviously have the technology to make and use radios for a start," Rodney said, barely containing his excitement. He was pacing the office. "Do you know how few civilizations we've met who have advanced to this level of technology?"
Sheppard was lounging on the comfy sofa that took up the back of Weir's office. "The Genii jump to mind…"
"Yes, yes…" Rodney started to answer.
"We would like to know how to proceed." Teyla interrupted over the radio.
Elizabeth considered. "We'll call you in five minutes," she said.
"Very well."
"Thoughts, gentlemen," she invited, as the 'gate shut down.
Rodney answered first. "Can we afford not to?" he said. "Trading opportunities with a population capable of actual scientific achievements doesn't come up very often, and we could do with a whole pile of things. Some of the back-up systems were destroyed during the siege, and we've never been able to get them up and running again..."
Elizabeth sensed he would continue for hours. She interrupted. "John?"
Sheppard shrugged easily. His expression was one of studied indifference, but his eyes were eager. "We could go see," he suggested. "There might not be anything there. It'd be pretty careless to leave something like that to transmit to the Wraith."
Rodney nodded eagerly. "And if there's no one there, we can always see if anything's been left in the shop."
Elizabeth looked at the two. Rodney was unashamedly eager, John lounged casually. "Ok, take a Jumper, see what you can find." She looked at John in particular. "If there's even a hint of danger, you get out."
"Yes, ma'am," he answered with a cocky salute.
-
SGA
-
The co-ordinates in the transmission were on the west coast of an island in the center of the planet's only ocean. It was on the far side from the Stargate. John did not land the Jumper at the village, but one of the team, Ronon probably, waved to them before they cloaked.
They over-flew numerous small villages on the major continent with signs of subsistence agriculture at their periphery. If they had chosen to, they could have observed the day to day lives of the Padanarams untroubled by the Wraith.
It was Rodney who noticed that a lot of the villages seemed deserted.
John brought up the sensor display. There were three villages within range. The west one showed multiple life signs scattered through the buildings. There was a sense, even from this altitude, of industry. None of the blips stayed still. They were all seemed to be moving purposely. He slowed the Jumper and descended closer to one of the other villages.
It was nearly empty of life signs and the more John saw, the more he suspected that those they picked up were either wild animals or domesticated beasts left to roam.
Rodney stood to look out the window. John set the Jumper to hover and joined him.
The buildings were of the same primitive design as those they had seen in Reliquary. It looked like any of a hundred villages they had seen in the Pegasus galaxy; wooden huts seemed to represent the sustainable level of technology that Wraith attacks allowed people to reach on most planets. There were no people to be seen in the village.
A couple of oxen-type creatures meandered between huts. At this altitude John could see what he assumed to be the equivalent of a domestic cat sitting on a roof. A dozen or so chickens pecked through the grass. There were signs of recent occupation; washing hanging on a line and moving slowly in the Jumper's down draft, a large water barrel with a half empty bucket at its side.
"Looks like the Marie Celeste," John said quietly.
He glanced across at Rodney and saw that he wasn't looking at the village itself, but at an open area some way to the north. The grass was yellowed by drought, but it still looked like the village green where quaint English villagers would dance around a May Pole.
Except for the burnt area in the center. John nudged the Jumper nearer for a better look. The earth was black and burned. Some days ago there would have been a bonfire here that would have been visible for miles.
He glanced once more at Rodney. His eyes were fixed on the burned area. The color had washed out his face.
"Rodney," John said, "it was just a bonfire," but even as he said it, he realized the truth. "Oh," he whispered.
Dried wood and dead leaves weren't the only thing you could burn.
"It's a pyre," Rodney whispered.
Now that he looked closer, John could see the blackened objects he had thought were branches were bones.
"Come on," John said, and sat down heavily. He put the Jumper to speed.
Rodney sank down beside him as though the inertia of the Jumper compelled him.
He didn't speak. Even more than panic, Sheppard classed a silent Rodney as a bad sign.
He radioed Carson to give Rodney time to gather his thoughts.
"Jumper 4 to Beckett."
There was a pause before Carson said, "Go ahead."
"Well, good, ok." John cast a quick glance across of Rodney again. He was still pale, but he'd lost the green tinge that had made John worry about the interior of his Jumper. Nevertheless, he turned up the air conditioning with a mental nudge. "We did a sweep of a village about fifty miles from your location. No signs of life except farm animals. There was a bonfire on the outskirts that looks like it was used to dispose of bodies."
"Understood," Carson said.
"There are another couple of empty villages within scanning range, and another that looks full of life. I'd say what you're looking at there isn't an isolated phenomena."
"The villagers here have voluntarily cut themselves off from the other villages. It seems their healer was a firm believer in quarantine," Carson said.
"I don't think it made much of a difference," John said. "How's the 'voodoo' coming along?"
That caught Rodney's attention. He gave John a wan smile.
"The medical research," Carson emphasized, "is progressing. I've just found a viral agent in all the affected individuals. It's a DNA virus with a protein coat quite similar to…"
"Doctor," John interrupted. "Am I going to understand this?"
Rodney grinned widely as he fiddled with the scanner controls.
Carson sighed. "Probably not. The bottom line is that this is a damned funny virus. I'm transmitting the data."
John waited patiently for the data stream to arrive. It didn't.
"Carson, there's nothing happening. What did you do?" Rodney demanded.
"It's not my fault," Carson muttered, "if these things choose the moment I touch them to go on the blink."
"Yes, yes, you're just terribly unlucky about these things, and it's nothing to do with the fact that you break things." Rodney snapped, then didn't give Carson time to reply. "Get Ronon to do it."
A second later the promised data lit up the display. John shut off the radio before he said, "You taught Ronon to use the computer relay."
Rodney was reading the data on the display. "He is teaching me some of those defensive moves. I said I'd show him how to use the computers."
"But Ronon?" John said incredulously.
Rodney shrugged. "For someone two steps away from a Neanderthal, he got the hang of it very quickly." He paused, and then added thoughtfully, "He was a whole lot easier to teach than Carson anyway."
John suspected this was less because of Ronon's innate computer ability, and more because of Carson's mortal terror of all technology more complicated than a retractable pencil, unless it was medical equipment. It would be easier to teach Rodney to be sensitive than to teach Carson to work a computer for anything other than medical purposes.
John flicked the switch to open the line again. He glanced through the data, and said. "Ok, Doc. What would you like us to do with this?"
"There's something bloody strange about this virus. I'm still building up the DNA sequence, but there's something I can't put my finger on. It'd be helpful to know if there's any sign of illness on that island. The med-kit on the Jumper has a few venepuncture kits…"
"I'm not taking anyone's blood, Carson," Rodney said loudly.
"Just a couple of drops in one of the purple top tubes from anyone you can find. Use the blood glucose lancets."
"Understood," John said. "We'll ask the locals when we arrive."
Rodney muttered under his breath. "You want me to take blood."
"Just a finger prick test."
"Humph."
John suspected he had just been volunteered to do the tests.
-
SGA
-
Levin called out. "Sir!"
Carson gave the radio to Ronon and hurried to Levin's side. The little boy who looked like Carson's nephew had closed his eyes, and would not open them. Carson cursed under his breath. He had struggled to insert another IV earlier, but was handicapped by the plastic gloves. The lad was so shut down now it would have been impossible even in Atlantis' infirmary.
Teyla placed a hand on his elbow. "I think it is too late, Doctor," she said quietly.
Carson looked at the little form. Levin knelt beside the dying child and stroked his hair in a gesture that was far in excess of his years. "He is a friend."
The little body was breathing in deep gulps that Carson knew were a final sign. After hours of shallow gasping, his lungs were desperate for air now. His lips were blue and his skin was sallow. The failing body managed two more clutches of air before it ended.
Carson wished he could check a pulse, but the gloves prevented him. Giving up was hard and he had never been good at it. He envied colleagues who could accept death as a natural end. He always fought against it, perhaps too strongly at times. But always for children. Always.
Levin placed a blanket over the body. Teyla held out a hand, but she did not seem to mind that she was ignored.
"Those who die are not the only victims," she whispered to Carson.
"Aye," Carson replied. He touched the dead child gently. "Go in peace, little one."
Then the equipment bleeped to indicate the samples were complete.
Ronon stood beside the desk as though keeping guard. He frowned, and Carson suspected he knew the reason.
"Are you regretting volunteering for this part of the mission?" he asked.
Ronon growled deep in his chest. Carson patted him on the elbow, safe in the knowledge that they were both in hazmat suits and it didn't really count as skin-to-skin contact.
"Sheppard and McKay will get into trouble." Ronon said. It was not a question.
Carson was inclined to agree. "They do have a tendency for getting into mischief." He checked out the sample containers. Each contained an air sample from around the room. The computer blipped negative for them all.
Carson sighed in a cross between relief and frustration. Relief that it wasn't an air borne contaminant and frustrated that he would have to keep looking. It also meant they could do without the suits.
"That shouldn't happen," Ronon said.
Carson looked at the readings and couldn't understand why the Runner should have a problem with them, then saw that Ronon was looking at the dead child. "Aye, lad," he agreed softly.
Ronon stalked across the room towards Teyla she could lift the burden. He looked too big for the room, like a lion in a cage. Without comment, he picked up the little body and gently carried it outside.
Carson carefully checked the sample results one more time, and then cracked open the seal on his suit and began to pull it off.
The first thing to assault him was the smell. It was an incredibly human smell of sweat and blood, mingled with the unmistakable aroma of sickness. It was overpowering. After the filtered air of the suit, it made his eyes water.
The harsh breathing was louder now too. Ronon had gathered the dead child into his arms and carried his burden to the door. Levin joined Carson. "Why have you taken it off?" the boy asked.
"There is no virus in the air."
Levin nodded. "You're just a man underneath," he said, and reached out and touched Carson's uniform.
Carson put out a hand, "Where I come from, it is custom to shake the hand of someone you are newly introduced to." He took Levin's small hand in his own. "My name is Carson Beckett."
The boy smiled widely. "My name is Levin."
Carson winked as he said "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. The lady is Teyla Emmagan."
Teyla unclipped the hood first and allowed it to drop behind her head. She pulled a hand out of the suit, and took the boy's hand too. "I am glad to meet you," she said.
Ronon was returning, and already stepping out of the hated suit. Carson whispered, "And the big man is Ronon Dex." Before Carson could stop him, Levin put his hand out for Ronon to shake.
Carson held his breath, but Ronon shook Levin's hand with gravity. "You are Levin," he said, "and I am Ronon Dex."
Despite having to crane his neck to answer, Levin did so with aplomb. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir," he repeated.
Ronon nodded solemnly. "We no longer need the suits?" he asked Carson.
Carson indicated the computer screen. "The virus isn't air borne."
"How is it being passed then?"
"I don't know yet."
Ronon looked out at the sea of sick children and adults. "Doesn't matter," he said. "Their families can see them."
His expression was a cross between sadness and sympathy. Carson was struck by how long seven years was to be on your own.