Chapter 6
All It Needs Is a John Deere
"We are close." The greenness in the project foreman's skin was faded by the sparks from the welders.
Their ships were mostly organic with some mechanization. Since these additions were of Lantean design, the integration process was harder than initially thought. But, they were not impossible and definitely worth waiting for.
She smiled again. Divine right was theirs. The progeny delivered to them. The schematics delivered to them. Only one thing remained-- the route. The progeny would give that answer and then that too would be delivered to them. Now, she was letting them sit and wonder at their fate. Uncertainty was always an ally in these matters. It played upon their foibles, releasing the information quicker and forcing her goals to be reached with the speed of the light shining on her now. The progeny were not going anywhere and if they did…she could find them easily. She wanted the joy of using the fear manifesting in the two cells to break them. Another right of her kind placed upon them by their instinctive divinity.
She caressed the curves of the metal. This little ball of mud had an entire lab and production facility buried with in it. The computers in it were useless (apparently by one of the progeny in her cells), but they had there own. All it took was a little extra work for something so worth the reward to be so close to fruition. Many cycles went by before she could even start and now here they were nearing the end.
"Take the loud one and the female leader to the underground complex," she commanded while lost in the tactile sensations under her fingertips.
She continued to study the lines of the foreign additions to her ship. The Lanteans, the original ones, would regret not destroying their great city. Its engines with many modifications looked beautiful on her Hive ship. That lone warrior's mission was a resounding success. His time in the city well spent. It was the scans he took initially that made all this possible. Scans that produced the plans for the star drive.
"It is time to fit the final piece of our divine need into place." She tilted her head up and looked at all the workers. Human and Wraith worked side by side on the scaffolding encasing the rear of her ship. Some of those humans would feed them on the journey. Some of those humans would worship them. All of the Wraith would rejoice as she led them to a place to satiate there instinctual greed.
Flawless.
An unwelcome interruption tore her from her musings as another of her males approached. Never looking her in the eye, he reported.
"He is sick."
Her flawlessness had an easily fixable crack. She knew her prize was injured when he was brought to her those many hours before. They had alcoves set aside for just such an emergency. She could make it all better, only to take it away at a later time. A delightful thrill went up her spine.
She nodded imperially. He knew what to do. When he left, she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of progress.
Once again, the sound, the scheme, the day-- potentially perfect.
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He listened to the conversations between the two cells. They had been here for a few hours now. No sign of the Wraith or their human collaborators. Also, no sign of water or food.
"Carson, something's wrong," Dr. Weir whispered loudly.
This was just too much for a twenty-one year old Marine technician. They said he would work on computers. The fanciest and most sophisticated computers known to mankind. Lorne only had him on this mission to evaluate him in the field. He did not like the field much. He liked it even less now, but everyone had more than one job on Atlantis.
"Green, their skin, the Emerald City, the Emerald Isle. The staring eyes, the knowing eyes. Green, all of it. They know." He heard Sheppard ramble.
"Carson, he's burning up."
"Damn." Dr. Beckett ran a hand through his hair.
"What's wrong, besides a fever? Didn't you treat him on the planet?" Dr. McKay asked in his whiny, accusing voice. A voice he must have perfected for just such an occasion. The scar from his own encounter glaring back at the young man reminding him of the doctor's own pain.
"For the physical ailments Rodney. His flume ride or lying on the ground with an open wound or any number of factors could've introduced something foreign into his system. I was waiting to get into the Jumper to start an IV. He didn't need it right away and it made it easier to walk to the ship. The plan was to get back to Atlantis for a full work-up. We kind of got side tracked with the culling beam and all. Best laid plans."
"Well, do something!"
"Whatchya have me do? Wave my magic scalpel and say Bibbity, Bobbity, Boo? I'm here, he's there. My medical supplies are on the Jumper! As loathe as I'm to say this…the Wraith maybe his only chance. And that…"
"…frightens the hell out of me," finished Dr. McKay tonelessly. "Their cocoons have healing properties. Gotta keep the meal fresh. But, what happens to him afterwards?"
They were interrupted by more ranting from the other cell.
"Green eyes, emerald green, sharp, they know. They see everything, Louisa!" Sheppard's voice grew louder and more frantic.
He heard Dr. Weir next. "Teyla, check his torso."
After a few minutes and the probable inspection of the injury, Dr. Weir spoke again, "Carson, the laceration on his side's infected." She was so calm.
Both Dr. Beckett and Dr. McKay turned small circles of frustration in the cell. They were not calm.
"So young. Did Taylor's eyes glow green?"
"Col. Sheppard you must remain still," Teyla gently ordered. "You must quiet yourself."
Both doctors were at a loss. Unable to help, Dr. McKay yelled at his friend, "Shut up Sheppard!"
"Envy! He knows…he knows ladies dig the green. Blue is so everyday. Green, envy, jealousy. He'll leave because of the envy. Sumner's eyes told me everything. Crystalline, faded, cloudy, dead. Do it Sheppard. They screamed so loud. Louder than he did."
The sounds of shuffling and whispering floated to his ears.
"Just do the best you can," directed Dr. Beckett helplessly. "Keep him comfortable."
Dr. McKay paced back and forth gnawing on his nails. Dr. Beckett shot him a look of exasperation, but said nothing. He turned back around and clung to the cell's webbed doors trying to see anything further than he already could.
"Everyone leaves. No one stays. Perpetual motion. Even you, Louisa. Everyone leaves." Sheppard's voice lowered. "Nothing is static."
Another unwelcome sound echoed down the hallway. The tension rose in the two cells as it drew closer.
"Please Col. Sheppard, you need to be quiet." Teyla sounded desperate.
The footsteps stopped. The occupants of his cell could only listen.
"Take him."
"No, you cannot…" Teyla's voice was cut-off with a loud thud.
Cpl. Lawrence Cavanaugh sat with his knees up with his arms hugging them close. This was certainly too much for him. His computer skills back home were exceptional. He was the go-to guy at home, for his friends and at school. "Natural aptitude," a teacher said praising his abilities. None of them had ever met anyone remotely like Dr. Rodney McKay or Dr. Radek Zelenka. Both could make him feel imbecilic.
Here, in this place he sat, listened and watched. He mostly listened: listened to his superior rave about the color green and eyes; listened to the two esteem doctors quibble with each other; listened to two respected leaders report health updates and ask questions.
Over his head was this little boy from Florida. He missed the humidity and summer afternoon thunder boomers. He missed the cabbage palms and swimming pools.
"See the world," the recruiter said. Of course, the guy did not know what he really meant was worlds or even galaxies.
When a drone opened the cell door and jerked Dr. McKay out, the listening, watching and sitting were over. He was a Marine after all. He could kill a man twenty different ways with his bare hands and still qualify for a job at Best Buy on the Geek Squad. His job at this time was to protect the civilians.
Without any further consideration, he charged the drone. His back hit the rear wall before he knew the drone had struck him.
"Lad! Whadya thank yure doin'?" Carson asked while checking the boy over. His accent thickened from surprise, fear and concern.
"I wasn't." Sand and beaches. Mosquitoes and gators. "I was reacting."
Dr. Weir passed by the door. Her voice made them look at the area in front of their cell.
"They took Sheppard the other way," she said quickly. "Teyla's fine!" she yelled before she was completely pushed out of the cell's corridor.
"I want to go home Dr. Beckett." Cicadas singing and sunburns.
"Aye." Peat, Bobby Burnes and tartans.
"But, everyone's coming with me." Semper Fi.
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The world blurred as a Jason hauled his dead weight along the corridor. The jacket bunched up and rubbed the bare skin on his back as he slid across the floor. It also meant that the motion pulled on his shoulder.
The question of passing out reared its head again. Since he did not, deep and mind blowing observations could be made.
Some Wraith were green. Sickly green. Puke green. Pea green. Green means spring and life. Not here, it means death. White means purity. The long, white, flowing hair down Jason's back meant contamination resulting in death. So much death.
Everything and everyone leaves, even him.
He was glad the floor was smooth, no bumps to add to his list. However, the jacket bunching up continued its very uncomfortable ways. "Rug burn," he chortled to himself. "Well, jacket burn anyway."
Jason stopped to communicate with a superior. They really did not talk so much as read each others minds he guessed. The Wraith were missing antennae; they could use antennae. Then they would remind him of a bad 50's B-movie. Some poor schmuck dressed up in an ill-fitting rubber costume with his arms outstretched. Of course, the iratus bug looked more arachnid than insect even if it only had four legs.
Attack of the six foot tall, bipedal spiders, he giggled deliriously to himself. Oh wait, I already did that.
"Shoo, fly don't bother me, Shoo fly don't bother me…" His head rolled around on the floor as he crooned off-key. "Or maybe…The itsy, bitsy spider…"
His songs and thoughts were interrupted by the superior kneeling down next to him. He grabbed Sheppard's jaw with his non-feeding hand and moved it side to side. Next, he removed the jacket and examined the arm and shoulder. He popped it back in place without a word.
The crack and shriek echoed around the room. "Little…warning…next time K-Karl," snapped Sheppard breathlessly afterwards.
Ignoring the lowly human, Karl stood up and motioned where he wanted Jason to take the patient (he could not think of himself as a pantry item just yet). Karl kept smiling as Jason dragged him to a cocoon alcove.
Surprise, surprise. Behold, I am a can of corn.
They stripped him of all clothing and hauled him to his feet so he could stand in the small booth. Once propped up and safely enmeshed in the organic material, warmth flooded Sheppard's system. This feeling was foreign today. He could not help it; he succumbed and enjoyed the sensation. It overwhelmed his brain and provided a sense of security. His mind latched onto it and drifted off.
He startled from that security for a second. There was something he should have been worried about or scared of. His eyes closed again. Whatever it was; it quietly slipped away from him.
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Elizabeth and Rodney were led in the opposite direction of Sheppard through more corridors than they could easily keep track of or remember. Finally, they stopped in front of a set of large bay doors that opened grindingly slow. With the first crack, sunlight streamed in and only grew as the doorway's size increased. The flood of warmth on their faces and bare skin felt glorious. However, being shoved into the brightness was disconcerting due to their eyes needing to adjust.
Squinting to give their eyes time, both glanced around the outside of wherever they had been detained. They exited at ground level on terra firma. A few paces away, a winding little pathway twisted through the remnants of scorched trees. Any other day, this would be a nice little jaunt in the burned-out countryside. Instead of bird calls and insect noise, they heard the sounds of construction. They realized it was a dull noise inside the Hive ship, which they could now fully observe, but since they were now outside, it was quite loud.
Another question answered- they were on a Hive that had landed on a planet, pretty obvious from the dirt under their feet. However, the noise begat other questions. What were they doing? Was that the sound of a hyper-drive being built or modified? Answers would have to wait in order for them to be horrifyingly clear. And, horrifyingly was the correct term.
The guards in front started down the path and the ones behind them suggested- with a harsh shove- for Rodney and Elizabeth to follow. The sun beat down and Rodney grumbled to himself about fair skin, melanomas and freckling. It really would have been a nice little stroll in the garden if it were not for the galoots escorting them or the Hive ship nestled in the stand of trees or the situation so precariously perched upon them.
After about twenty minutes, the mumblings fell away into silence. They walked in that silence looking at the trees, shrubberies and insects dotting the path until Elizabeth leaned over and whispered in his ear.
"Nice house."
He looked in front of him and his jaw dropped. He halted and shook his head. Shivering and hyperventilating soon followed.
"Rodney?" Elizabeth asked with her concern growing. "What is it?"
"We're on…on…" He swallowed to control the bile and whatever food was in his stomach. He looked between the ruined stables and the crumbling workers' houses and the decaying vegetables in the unattended fields. He looked at the shabby main house at the end of the winding little pathway. Miss Scarlett and her sisters had walked this very trail a few months ago. "We're on Ixion."
Rodney dug his heels into the ground. "I'm not going in there." The two guards behind him grabbed him by the arms and pulled him down the path. "No, I've already seen what the interior decorator has done! I know all about it. I don't need to see it again. Let's go back to the nice musty smelling cell!" He futilely struggled, but it was enough to make their job difficult.
Neanderthal grabbed Elizabeth at the same time and pulled her along. Her struggle was met with the same amount of success.
"Move," the fourth guard (Cro-Magnon) ordered while pointing a stunner at Rodney.
Rodney laughed. "That's not much of a threat. I'd rather be unconscious."
Cro nodded to Neanderthal. He moved her into a choke hold cutting off her air. Both Rodney and Elizabeth's eyes bulged out of their heads.
"No! Wait!" Rodney shouted. His shoulders slumped and he started walking the rest of the way to the house. "See, going obediently towards the Fun House. Walking hopelessly to my impending doom. Doesn't matter, I wiped out the computer."
Neanderthal smirked. "The Queen only saw that as a minor setback."
Rodney stopped briefly before guard two pushed him along. "They rebooted," he stated dejectedly. Then the reason why he was being walked there hit him in all its Iron Maiden glory. It would not affect Elizabeth, why drag her along? Unless, this was a spectator sport. His stomach churned.
"I hate the Wraith," he muttered.
The grand house looked nothing like it had before. The carnival of horrors underneath had not marred the beauty of the house above when he had last visited. Now it looked decrepit, unused and just plain sad. The paint peeled, the floors were scuffed and the pictures were either sitting on the floor or hanging lopsided. Too bad, Lycee was a great cook in Hell's kitchen.
Elizabeth observed the not so grand hall with a touch of awe. "It must've been something."
"Oh yes. Over there's the parlor where Col. Sheppard tried not to pass out on guests from blood loss. That room's the dining hall where I ate sumptuous meals while Col. Sheppard was starved. Don't let the pretty things fool you Elizabeth…it's a façade."
She studied her feet and nodded.
"Oh you'll see; the best is underneath. And since I'm a genius, I'm pretty sure I know where we're going. I'll have to let Sheppard know- if we survive- it's my turn to be shish kabob. Although, I'm more partial to satay unless there's lemon of course."
Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked back at him. "I was hoping that wasn't the case. I was trying to let Sheppard's optimism rub off. Foolish thing that. Although, you're right about satay, it's pretty good. But, I really like the mushrooms with shish kabob."
They both looked at each other and shared a darkly, pleased snort.
They waited as Neanderthal and Cro unlocked the door to the stairwell.
"I'll be right there with you," she whispered into his ear. She grabbed his arm as they were led down into the bowels of the beast.
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A/N: Thank you, thank you so much for all the feedback. It does keep the bunnies happy as well as their discovery of carrot-cheese cake. I've had to roll them back to the hutch. Fat little bunnies. Content little bunnies. Another round Isaac, just keeping my eye on Doc. He's a lecherous old coot and after the cookies.