A/N: If you are wondering why updates never pop up on a Sunday; it's because that's my computer hiatus time.
If there are any mistakes, blame my bird. His call is high-pitched and he wouldn't shut up. Very distracting. Meeka, you fiend! Thou is but a bane unto me! Argh!
Ch. 27
The Truth About the Beast
Weir normally wasn't an impatient woman, but dire circumstances were shoving that normally positive trait from her, roping in the impatient. Most of the time she prided herself at being able to rein herself in enough to pace outside the infirmary doors until Beckett came out or a nurse said she could come in. But seeing as how no one had been shot or critically wounded, patience didn't grace her, and she went right in.
She saw Ronon and Teyla sitting on beds while being checked over by four nurses and Dr. Biro going between each. A peek to the left showed her a drawn privacy curtain and misshapen lumps of shadows her mind pieced together as two forms and a hospital bed – one form standing, the other sitting. Weir never took her eyes from that make-shift cubicle as she headed over to Ronon and Teyla. She finally had to peel away in order to face the two. Teyla was having a cut on her forehead cleaned, Ronon a nasty looking tear in his arm.
Teyla was the poster child for pre-topples into dream land. Ronon – surprise, surprise – looked pissed, and it was making the nurses nervous.
" What happened?" Elizabeth asked, and she chanced another glance over at the privacy curtain.
" Ambush," Ronon stated. " Went to Gen, came back, got jumped by Cys and Genii."
" We believe they were waiting for us," Teyla jumped in. " They stunned us and took us to another world. They were going to use us to exchange for the sil, then began torturing Dr. McKay and I... Mostly – Dr. McKay. Then Colonel Sheppard..."
" Kicked their ass," Ronon finished with a dark smirk.
" Precisely. He became the creature and..."
" Kicked their ass," he finished again. Of all earth expressions and swears, that one, Weir knew, had hit the top of the runner's list as being a favorite.
Teyla went on after giving Ronon an odd look. " He distracted the Cyladrans and Genii as we made our escape."
" Where are the Colonel and Rodney now?"
Ronon jerked his thumb over his shoulder. " Beckett took McKay somewhere," then he pointed forward, " Sheppard's in there."
Elizabeth looked back at the curtained off section ponderously. " Is there a reason he's been curtained off?"
Ronon shrugged. " I don't know. Maybe he's naked."
Teyla shot him a withering glare. " They did not strip off his clothes. He was reacting with agitation, and calmed only after the curtain was closed."
" Agitation?" Weir wanted elaboration.
" He wouldn't let people touch him," Ronon explained, " and kept trying to leave."
Curious, and nervous to an ill point, Elizabeth went hesitantly toward the curtained cubicle, and the closer she got, the clearer the raspy sound of fast panting breaths became. She stopped an inch from the curtain with arms folded tightly across her chest, and leaned in.
" Colonel Sheppard?"
One of the altered shadows moved, drawing a curtain aside enough for a strawberry blond head to poke through.
" Dr. Weir, it's okay to come in. All the activity was making Colonel Sheppard... um... a little difficult to manage."
When no retort or protest followed, Weir's curiosity overwhelmed her unease, and she stepped through the curtains. The nurse – who's tag said Kaylee Jones – went back to cleaning and swabbing the innumerable cuts and gashes on John's sides, back, and chest. Blood, dirt and sweat coated his upper body from waist to head like a sickeningly weak shadow of the day he came barreling through the gate shredded and wild. It jolted Elizabeth, making her heart stumble and her skin goose up. John was even panting as fast as he had that day, flanks rising and falling like a pumping bellows.
It must have been painful, or frightening, by the way the Colonel was gripping his knees tight enough to pull the knee-caps off. His back was ever so slightly bent like a spooked cat. A couple of minutes ago, that same back had been bristling with dagger-sharp spines.
Blood covered the Colonel's hands like gloves.
" Colonel?" Elizabeth asked, reaching out a tentative hand toward his shoulder.
" If you wanna talk, do it now, not much time left," John blurted, startling Elizabeth so that she snatched her hand back. Panic welled up in her like flooding water.
" What? Why?"
In answer, John pried his hand from his knee, grabbed Elizabeth's wrist, and placed her hand against his chest, over his heart.
" Feel that?"
Elizabeth's eyes went round. Shock wanted her to pull her hand away, but morbid fascination kept it in place. She wasn't a medical doctor so it wasn't as if she had a lot of experience with such things, but even she could tell that no human heart was meant to beat that fast. No wonder he was panting.
" Oh my gosh..."
John smiled an already wavering smile. " Yeah, see?" he talked fast to get the words out before the next much needed breath. " Get it? Massive - adrenaline rush. Unnatural – inhuman - I should be - passed out, at least that's - what Kaylee here - says... Already got blood out of me - to see what it is making me pump - away like a revving engine." John then started coughing. His hand, still gripping her wrist, was shaking. " Doesn't last - though so soon - I'll be out like a wraith's - prospective meal."
He released Elizabeth's wrist, but morbid fascination didn't want to quit, and her hand remained on the cold skin covering the out of control heart. But finally she did pull away when the horror of how impossible this heartbeat was supposed to be finally kicked in. Only rabbit and rat hearts beat that fast.
Elizabeth folded her arms back across her chest. " Well, I got the gist of what happened from Teyla and Ronon..."
The curtain parted enough for Beckett to walk in with lab coat on and stethoscope around his neck. John straightened.
" How's Rodney?"
Carson placed the scope in his ears. " Sedated for now so the nurses can get him cleaned up without a hassle. He's exhausted, a little dehydrated, and it's possible he might be sportin' a few cracked ribs, maybe another break in the arm. No concussion, though, lucky bugger, but his face is gonna hurt come mornin'." He put the listening end to John's chest, and immediately furrowed his brow. " Now that's bloody odd."
John smirked. Elizabeth could have sworn he was enjoying the mad cardiac rapidity as though it were his prized freak possession, only ever brought out to get people to 'ooh', 'ahhh' and gag on bile.
" Isn't - it though?" he panted. Carson quickly removed the scope, and seemed unable to do it fast enough.
" Very. You should be passed out. Kaylee, you get the blood?"
Kaylee nodded. " Gave it to Crystal to analyze."
Carson nodded. " Good, I'd like to take a wee peek. Too bad you can't bottle up what's burnin' through your veins, Colonel, because energy like that would come in a wee bit handy."
John's smile was gone with spittle flying from his mouth on each exhale. " Doc - I hate this - it's horrible."
Carson placed the scope on John's back. " You gettin' enough air son?"
" Oh I'm getting - plenty of air to resuscitate - ten people at once... But I won't stop - shaking and my head hurts and - ears hurt and - it's too freakin' - loud..." he gasped. " It's too noisy - in here doc... too many - people... smells, really - really smells..." something clattered too distant for anyone to react to except for John, who jumped high enough to almost slip from the bed. Carson caught his arm and steadied him as he readjusted himself. John, staring beyond Elizabeth to the curtain, swallowed and seemed to shrink back. " Too many - people... too many..."
Carson placed his hand on John's bare, dirty shoulder and squeezed. " Easy son, it's all right. It'll wear off soon and then you'll be able to rest."
" Can't you - sedate me?"
" I'd rather not. You're already saturated with chemical, I don't want to risk counter measures and have them tear you apart tryin' to battle for supremacy."
John chuckled unsteadily. " Sounds like - a good movie - doc."
Kaylee, who had completed the cleaning and had now moved on to stitching a few of the deeper gashes, started cussing vehemently when she went for a cut on John's heaving flank first. Carson put his other hand on her arm.
" Just wait until he's settled down. There aren't that many that need stitchin' anyways. Most are just minor cuts."
John's smirk returned. " Natural armor – doc - never become - a monster - without it."
" Aye, too true I suppose. You should lay down so you don't topple when this thing wears off."
Carson increased pressure against John's shoulder, and John complied by descending onto his right side and bringing his legs up onto the bed. The fast, deep inhalations had his ribs stretching his skin until it looked ready to rip. He closed his eyes in a drawn out blink, and on opening them turned them up to look at Elizabeth. Pain rippled through them, but not the physical kind.
" You need - to suspend - gate travel," he said.
Elizabeth hadn't expected him to say it, but neither was she surprised. " Do you really think it's come to that? Don't you think – you know – that your escape might have deterred the Cys and Genii from further attacks?"
John, twitching and shivering with chemical overload, shook his head. " No. Diavante's - a hell of a - lot scarier - than me. I might have - shaken them – but - no way are they - going to stop - not if they want - the sil that badly... And they - really want - it bad... Plus - I'm pretty sure - the Cys are used - to genetic freaks - seeing as how - Diavante's their choice - breeder of - eraks... There'll be - other traps – ambushes - and this serum - doesn't hold out - forever."
" John, we can't just close ourselves off just because two factions are after something that – once again – we possess. We didn't suspend travel when the Genii then the wraith attacked. John, we're not strangers to these types of situations..."
John lifted quaking hands to run up his face and then through his hair. " I didn't mean - indefinitely. I just - mean until - we resolve this."
" And how do we do that?"
John dropped his hands from his head and sighed unsteadily. " Two ways, actually. We hunt - down Diavante - and stop him... somehow. Or, we - destroy..." more pain flickered, " the sil."
It was Mathers, and halting the search for his body, all over again.
" Do you really think that would stop them?"
John shook his head. " No. With the sil – they'll just think we're - lying and - keep on coming. With Diavante – I don't know - how you - would get rid - of him. I mean how - do you get - rid of an - Ancient? Especially a - mutant one."
John's shivering died down to periodic shudders, and his eye lids were being stubborn about refusing to stay open. Beckett, always quick on the uptake, pressed his fingers to John's neck and melted in relief.
" Heart rate's goin' down," he announced. " Breathin' too."
Panting was switched into the gentle rise and fall of John's chest, and Kaylee jumped on the opportunity to start stitching up the deeper wounds. John didn't even twitch when the thread was inserted in and out of his flesh.
Elizabeth smiled and placed her hand on John's arm. " You ask an Ancient, John. I've been meaning to have a talk with Chaya. Maybe she could tell us something."
John nodded wearily as his eyelids slid shut. " Yeah... good plan... Say hi to her for me." His eyelids snapped shut, and his head sagged face-down into the mattress. Elizabeth, smiling, patted his arm.
" Will do." She looked up at Beckett. " He'll be all right, right?"
Beckett was already listening to John's heart with the stethoscope. " Oh, aye. That serum'll make sure of it and so will I."
Elizabeth nodded then stepped out from behind the curtain. Rodney was there, fast asleep with a blanket pulled up to his chest, wires and an IV drip snaking from him. His face was a mottled mess of bruises that had one eye swollen shut tighter than the other. His arm was bandaged, probably his chest too under the scrub. The Genii and Cys really knew how to lay into people. She went over to the physicist and put her hand on his shoulder, then chuckled when Rodney's mouth slacked enough to emit gentle snores. But it was a short lived laugh because nothing about any of this was funny.
It was creepy.
Having someone who harbored a tight friendship with an Ancient had its perks. John living up to his promise of visiting Chaya had allowed him closer landing proximity to the temple. Stackhouse set the jumper down in a field within sight of the temple and opened the hatch, but didn't accompany Weir. He didn't need to, not on this world. Elizabeth headed to the temple, and having never seen it before until now, was distracted by its simplistic beauty and the very mild temperature of the world. She wandered into the court, feeling awkward as a stranger trespassing because no one would answer the door.
" Chaya?" she called, unsure how John usually handled this.
" Dr. Weir."
Elizabeth whirled around with a thudding heart to see Chaya standing behind her, smiling warmly, but with perplexity.
" Dr. Weir. You come in place of John?"
Elizabeth grimaced apologetically. " Sort of. Colonel Sheppard isn't well, so wasn't able to come, or he would have been the one to arrive instead of me."
Chaya's smile faded. " Unwell? How?"
Again, Weir grimaced. " Well, not really unwell, more like exhausted. Chaya, I'm here to ask you about something. Well, actually, someone. Someone who has become a threat to us. I'm not here to ask for your help, this is just a simple inquiry I hope you can answer."
Chaya inclined her head. " Of course, Dr. Weir. Please, sit." Chaya moved to a stone bench, and Weir followed to sit beside the ascended Ancient. Then launched into the business at hand.
" Chaya, what do you know of a being known as Diavante?"
Chaya blinked at that, rearing her head back in alarm. " You've been having dealings with Diavante?"
" In a way. John has, but not by choice. More like chance, really. It's kind of a long story, one John would be better at telling since it's his story to tell. The short version is that this Diavante nearly killed John because John was trying to help a little girl escape from him. Now it seems Diavante has become a danger to all of Atlantis, and we would like to know what we're dealing with exactly. We know he is an Ancient, and attempted a form of ascension..."
Chaya's expression darkened, which took Elizabeth by alarm. " A mutilated attempt," Chaya said. " Diavante is no ascended. He is... nothing, nowhere, caught between one existence and another. I believe a good term to use would be one of your earth terms I came across when I studied your many religions; Cursed."
Elizabeth smiled. " Appropriate term. John said he was a scientist?"
Chaya nodded. " He was."
" Did you know him?"
" Of him. He was before my time. He was banished when his experiments turned cruel, destructive... Heartless. He would perform his experiments on living beings no matter what the outcome or the pain caused. He was said to be very obsessed. Discovery was more important than the lives cost to reach that discovery. Many have died under his experimentations. The final act to seal his fate was the destruction on an entire village through a virus he created, and expressed no remorse for. That was when he was sent away."
Elizabeth, wrinkling her brow, leaned forward with hands clasped and elbows on her knees. " Why hasn't he tried to return to Atlantis once it was evacuated?"
" Because he cannot. The symbols to press leading home were erased from his mind."
Elizabeth straightened. Now that explained a lot. Not everything, though.
" But he wants to return," Elizabeth said. " John said so. He says Diavante has the ability to enter the mind during sleep. The symbols would have been made known to him through John's dreams but Diavante has yet to come."
" Perhaps because he could not retrieve the symbols from John. I know of this ability you speak of. My people know of Diavante, even now. The ability to enter the subconscious mind exists, and the conscious mind of course, though we would never invade a person's conscious unless necessary. Diavante's ability to enter into the sleeping mind is a lesser form of both powers. He can read much in the unconscious, but not all. Even in sleep, control of one's own mind still exists in small ways. I know of the secrecy you keep concerning Atlantis' continuing existence, and that maintaining that secret is a matter of life and death for your people. And I know John. He puts the safety of the city and its people above himself. The strength of his resolve, I believe, is strong enough to keep even Diavante from discovering the symbols to Atlantis."
Elizabeth relaxed, until...
" But if others know the symbols," Chaya continued.
" Then Diavante could find out through them," Elizabeth finished.
" Yes. He was banished from Atlantis, not other planets."
Elizabeth huffed out a sharp breath. " Well, obviously he hasn't found anyone who knows the address as of yet, but they are out there. He's already organized two civilizations against us – the Cyladrans and the Genii. But... they were more interested in a device John kept Diavante from having than in Atlantis, so I suppose it's safe to assume they haven't been told Atlantis still exists..." she was talking more to herself than to Chaya, working things out loud. " What we're most worried about is this device, and Diavante giving it to our enemies. With it, should they discover Atlantis is still standing, they could get through our shield and take the city. Then there's Diavante himself and his interest to return to Atlantis. We know he's a danger, and has been, we just don't know his exact plans, or what to do about him. So far, he's been more inclined to make life difficult than be an out right threat."
Chaya nodded in understanding. " He is a danger to you, doctor Weir. As I have said, my people know of him in the now, because he is half ascended, and that has created a connection. But he is mad, very mad. He wants Atlantis for himself, to continue his experiments. However..." she trailed off into momentary thought. " I believe his unstable state has made him... unreliable to himself. Though his presence would keep the city alive, he would be unable to run it on his own. He would need others, preferably those loyal to him, those he could command, to aid him. I say this as speculation. We know him, but not his plans. The connection creates an awareness of him, but not a bond, so we cannot enter his mind as he cannot come to our plane. But we have always know of Diavante's need to return home, because it is part of what has driven him mad, and he will do whatever it takes to return now that he has the means."
Elizabeth slumped her shoulders at that statement. " Because of us. We brought forth the means."
Chaya smiled kindly at her. " Your presence has motivated him, but he has yet to retrieve the address through you."
" But others know of the address because of us..."
" Which means you have a chance to stop Diavante once and for all."
" Why haven't your people done so?"
" Because, though there is a connection, he is not one of us, and we cannot interfere."
Elizabeth's thoughts strayed back to the whole Anubis incident. Kind of Ascended, kind of not, so not in a position to be dealt with by actual Ascended, and the one Ascended that tried – one Daniel Jackson – got himself back handed (as it were) back to mortality.
Anubis had been next to impossible to defeat, and if Diavante were the same... Elizabeth shuddered.
" How do you get rid of something like Diavante?" she asked. " How are we supposed to defeat him?"
Chaya shrugged. " You have weapons."
Elizabeth started at that, blinking several times. " W-what. Weapons?"
" Yes, like what John carries. Diavante may be partially Ascended and immortal, but his experiments with the structure of living beings has made him more... vulnerable, than he once was, though he does not seem to realize this."
Elizabeth gaped. " So... he can be killed?"
" If he takes a more solid form, then yes, quite easily. Though some of his structure is that of wraith, and were he to absorb the energy of another living being, he would heal. Other than that, he can be destroyed."
Elizabeth had to clasp her hands together to keep from throwing her arms around Chaya in an embrace. She let out a slow breath of sweet relief.
" Chaya, you've just made my day. And John's too, as soon as I get back. And he wanted me to tell you 'hi', by the way."
Chaya smiled at this, and blushed.
SGASGASGASGA
John kept the sil to him, pressed to his chest, body curved over it in a protective crouch, alone in the darkness.
He looked imploringly up at Krissa. She was crying, with hands clasped before her. Each tear was a knife to the heart.
" I have to."
She sniffed. " I know."
Cold brushed against his back, ice crept down his spine, and oh how he wanted to vomit. Instead, he choked out a sickened cough and shivered.
John shook his head. " I'm sorry," tears burned his eyes, " I'm so sorry."
Krissa wiped her own eyes with her sleeve. " I know. Lesser of two evils, Mr. Sheppard? Do what you have to."
John did. He pulled the sil away from himself, lifted it high with both hands, and brought it down hard onto the invisible ground. It shattered like glass, millions of shards raining down in glittering dust with no fragments left to hold.
When John looked up, Krissa was gone.
John's eyes snapped open, and even in the darkness he saw the curtains drawn away, and Rodney lying in the bed across the way. Heart monitors were going, harshly loud to John's now overly sensitive ears. Hunger struck his awareness second, an annoying pang, but nothing up to par with the desperate hunger that had plagued him previously. He could ignore it this time. There were more important matters.
He reached out, clicked off the monitor, and removed the pads from his chest. Then he slid from the bed as his form slipped into critter-mode, spikes ripping through a fresh scrub shirt. Beckett would be upset – or would he? Probably not around John, not any more. Stupid anti-normalcy (if such a word existed. It should if it didn't.)
With a quiet hiss, John slipped low across the floor, out the infirmary, and straight to the lab. Same old, same old, only the second time around, and John felt as though he had been doing it forever. He knew where the sil was, in a lock box on the table at the far end. He retrieved the box, holding the handle in his mouth, and slunk back to the infirmary. Safety there. More people. Jumper would be better, but a more human instinct didn't want to alarm Beckett with his absence.
He entered the infirmary with the doors sliding closed behind him, and froze.
Beckett was there, standing by the bed, facing John just as frozen. The color went fast from the Highland doc's face, like the plug being pulled from the drain. The two stared at each other without so much as a muscle twitching or eyes blinking. Beckett broke the stillness with an audible gulp, and took a step back. John caught the whispered 'bloody hell'.
Knife to the heart. John didn't like Beckett's fear. It was wrong. Moving slow, he slunk to the left, toward the wall, keeping a good couple of feet between him and Carson. Once at the wall, John set down the box to pick it up with his hands, and as he shifted in a turn to sit against that wall, his form coalesced back into human, bringing the box to his chest and drawing his knees up. He avoided looking at Beckett as he pressed in the key-code for the box. It clicked, he opened it, and removed the sil, setting the box to the side. The sil he held protectively to his chest.
" S-sorry doc," John said, and swallowed back the suffocating lump in his throat. " Sorry you had to see that."
He heard footsteps, and looked up in time to see Beckett coming toward him, then sitting down next to him against the wall, also with knees drawn up, and hands draped casually over them. Fear – scent and sight – were absolutely gone.
" No bother, laddie. You startled me is all." He looked at John up and down. " You all right then? Physically I mean. Any pain?"
John shook his head. " Nope. Well, soreness, and I could go for a couple of cheeseburgers right now, and I emphasize 'couple'. But seriously, I've been worse."
Carson snickered. " No arguments there. Just out of curiosity, what possessed ya to change?"
John shrugged and looked down at the sil, rubbing it along its now clean side. " Bad dream." He stopped rubbing to hold it tight with both hands. " I suggested destroying it, and that scared the hell out of me. I mean it's not like it's really mine to destroy. Actually, it's not mine to destroy, it's Krissa's. But seeing as how we haven't found her yet, it's not like we can ask her 'hey, can we smash the thing that took you a month to build?' Of course, that'd be a hard question even if she were here." He lifted the sil to hold it out before him, arms resting on his knees. He turned it, and in the dusky light of the infirmary the dark surface reflected iridescent colors. John had never noticed that before. Beauty in the darkness after all.
Carson leaned a little to the side to join in the observation. " Well, far be it from me to be playin' Heightmeyer, but seein' as how this Krissa lass built that bit of metal and circuits, of course it'd be hard to part with it. I always say a bit of you goes into whatever you create with your own hands, and the longer it takes, the more of you goes in. That bit wasn't just made by the lass, part of it is the lass. Little of her heart and soul. So of course it's a task, wantin' to destroy it. You'd be a heartless bugger if it didn't get to ya in some way."
John pulled the sil in, and hugged it against his chest. Never in his life would he have admit to projecting, but Beckett did a good Heightmeyer, because he was right. He'd failed Krissa, and all he had left to protect of her was the sil. But hey, piece of metal and circuits as it was, he'd guard it with heart, soul, fang, claw, gun, C-4 and whatever else he had.
He felt Beckett's fingers slide beneath his bicep and grip, then tug. " Come on, lad. Back to bed. I'll see if I can't scrounge ya up somethin'. It ain't that late for a good meal."
He guided John, still hugging the sil, back to the bed. John handled getting back in himself, and Beckett didn't bother attaching the heart monitor. No need to, really. John looked over at Rodney as Beckett adjusted the covers.
" He okay?"
Carson glanced at Rodney. " Aye. He'll be fine. A few cracks, sprains, but no worse than that, though'll he'll be hurtin' for a bit. Let me go talk to the nurse, then I'll see about gettin' the food."
Beckett stepped away. Minutes later, he was out the infirmary doors. John settled back against the upturned head of the bed, loosening his hold on the sil to lower it to his lap. He tilted his head back to look up at the shadow-hidden ceiling. Time held no existence for him, but when the doors next opened, he jumped all the same, because it was too early for Beckett to be back.
He relaxed on seeing Elizabeth, and her face that was all smiles.
" John," she said with a nod of greeting. " Beckett said you had a little night time romp."
John narrowed his eyes. " Did he now?"
Elizabeth, still grinning, shook her head. " No, but that," she gestured at the sil, " was kind of a giveaway, and what you said just confirmed it. So I guess this means you're feeling better?"
John lifted one shoulder. " A little. I'm tired, but I'm starved, and they say you should never sleep on an empty stomach."
" Who's they?"
" Most likely my mom, but usually because I didn't clean my plate since I wanted to go out and play or something."
" Hell raiser even then?"
John made his eyes go heavy lidded. " I prefer the term 'exceedingly active'."
Weir chuckled. " Sorry."
John tilted his head to one side in curious regard. " Why are you all sunshine and daisies? You and Chaya exchange a little something about me?"
" Info was shared, but not about you. Well, nothing incriminating that would have you burying your head in the sand for months. Chaya had nothing but good things to say. And speaking of good, my little visit paid off. Chaya knew quite a bit about your Diavante."
John pushed himself up straighter at this. " Yeah?"
" Yeah. It seems that – despite Diavante's immortal nature – he's not all that immortal. He can be killed."
" How?"
" Use your imagination. Guns, knives, whatever and however you want. All his years of genetic tampering gave him the nasty side affect of being susceptible to harm."
" Which leaves us where?"
Elizabeth folded her arms and shrugged. " You tell me. But, if you want to some how go after Diavante himself, it's a possibility."
John nodded numbly as plans shot through his brain faster than he could sort them. Plans on drawing Diavante out, of trapping him, of somehow getting him to relent and back off. Anything to get him out of the way and continue the search for Krissa unhindered. He almost drooled at the prospect as though it were food.
When he next looked at Elizabeth, her smile was gone.
" John, just remember, even if we get rid of Diavante, that may not stop others from coming after us to get the sil. Even if the belief that Atlantis is gone still holds, others – especially the Cys – will see our possession of it as a threat, and do what it takes to get it away from us. That could cause future problems for future missions, even bigger problems if the wraith get wind of this. That little device is more trouble than we can imagine."
John gripped the sil tight with one hand as though Weir's words had insulted it. " But you know?" he said. " I don't think destroying it would solve the problem, because no one would believe us when we tell them it's gone – unless we make the destruction a public display. Know how to do that?"
Weir shook her head. " No. But we need to think of something. Chaya told me something else, something that's been making me nervous. She talked to me about Diavante's desire to return to Atlantis. She told me that though he could keep the city alive, he would need others to help him run it, others loyal to him. It got me thinking..."
John stiffened as epiphany smacked him upside the head with an aluminum baseball bat. He'd had it right the first time. " Loyal or at least easy to control. Crap, that's it! That's why he wants the sil. He can get through, but others wouldn't be able to. He needs it to send an army through and take Atlantis, cause like hell we'd be loyal. He probably figured that the first night he broke into my brain. He really is going to fork Atlantis over, bring an army..."
Oddly enough, it seemed more of a relief that John had figured it out than a shock, and he sagged against the bed. It was like when he'd been at Diavante's before discovering Diavante's secret, and Savine's ability, when all he had were noises and a foe without a face and body to shoot. When the enemy was made manifest, John was able to figure out what to do (major bust though it was). If all that John had speculated was true, then all that needed to be done was to take Diavante out of the picture.
And what was that old Earth Idiom? Cut the head off the snake, and the body will die. Without Diavante to lead the charge through the gate and keep the city going, the endeavor would be pointless.
The question was, who was Diavante going to lead? It couldn't be both the Genii and the Cys. Each side had a tendency not to share. It probably didn't matter who Diavante's army was. Then again, maybe it did matter. But one step at a time.
" We need to kill Diavante."
TBC...
SGASGASGASGA
A/N: Such a violent man you are John. Sic 'em boy! Sic 'em good!
