Time Immemorial
Chapter 4: Unearthed
July 16th
1452 Hours
The four Atlantis team members paused in awe upon entering the encampment, taking in the extensive scene. How could something this large go completely unnoticed? Elizabeth wondered. She knew, though, that her expedition had not scanned even half of the continent. She also noted that the majority of the structures were very purposefully situated on the perimeter of the clearing, concealed from above by foliage. They had wanted to remain hidden.
As their Lacedami escorts scattered to various locations in the encampment, Antigonos and Straton remained behind with the expedition members. They waited for a group of five to approach them. To his relief, John recognized four of the five as Corporal Kirkland and his team. He quietly exhaled, reassured.
"Major, Dr. Weir," Kirkland greeted with a crisp salute. He boasted a strong Australian accent. "I see you found our new friends."
"Actually, they found us," Sheppard replied, leaving out the details. He returned the salute halfheartedly, never one for formalities. "Glad to see you're in one piece, Corporal. I'd be lying if I said you didn't have me worried for a bit."
"Is that so, sir?"
Sheppard just cast a brief look over to Antigonos, as if to say: I'll tell you later.
The Aussie nodded in understanding. "Good to see you made the trip out, Dr. Weir," Kirkland continued without missing a beat. "There're plenty of interesting historical goodies these blokes have for you to see. Right up your alley, if you don't mind me saying so, ma'am."
Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the good-natured Corporal. "Not at all. I'm eager to learn all I can."
John nodded approvingly at Kirkland's handling of the situation. He liked the corporal. At 28 years of age, Liam Kirkland had joined the Australian Army at eighteen and had quickly risen through the ranks. He had been deployed with the Special Air Service Regiment – an elite infantry unit equivalent to the U.S. Army Rangers or British SAS. He was a sharpshooter; even now, he carried his sniper rifle slung on his back. Hell, John thought, it's hard to separate the man from the thing. Kirkland had a wicked sense of humor, exacerbated still by alcohol – or so Beckett, Kirkland's drinking buddy, had once told John. He was sharp, loyal, and persistent – everything a CO could ask for in a soldier.
Kirkland's three teammates – one marine and two geologists – joined the small group, looking just about ready to leave their new acquaintances behind for a hot shower in Atlantis. It was only then did John notice their guide: a young Lacedami soldier, dressed in a similar manner as the others and exhibiting the same Mediterranean-style features, though he wasn't quite as hulking as his comrades. John figured he couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen.
The young man walked up to the group, eyes locked on Sheppard and mouth open in amazement. His gaze flickered across the various components of the major's standard issue U.S. military gear: clad in black from head-to-toe, P-90 strapped to his vest, his Beretta 9-millimeter secured in his thigh holster, and to top it all off, aviator sunglasses. Yeah, John thought with a grin and a roll of his eyes, a kid would think that's cool.
Antigonos glared at the boy beaming with excitement. "Major Sheppard, may I introduce to you Kyros, one of my… younger soldiers." His tone was rife with disapproval.
Embarrassed by the undue admiration, John could think of nothing else but to extend his hand in greeting. "Hi there," he said.
Proud of the new custom he had learned from Corporal Kirkland's team, Kyros immediately took Sheppard's hand and began shaking it vigorously. He beamed up at the major, the first smile John had seen from any of these people. "Welcome, sir!" the boy exclaimed, so thrilled was he to meet the newcomers.
"Thanks," John said dryly. He had to practically wrench his hand back from the boy. Still, he liked his enthusiasm. Kyros was the first of the Lacedami to display anything but an impassive coldness to the Atlantis team.
"And this is Dr. Weir… leader of these people," Commander Antigonos continued. He let the word 'leader' roll off his tongue with disdain.
Extending her hand to Kyros, Elizabeth ignored the jab. "Hello," she greeted with a friendly smile, finding the young man's unique attitude refreshing.
This time, Kyros remained frozen in place. He could do nothing but stare silently at Elizabeth, completely and utterly infatuated by her elegant features. Seeing this, she retracted her arm quickly and looked about to the rest of the group for help. Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.
Rolling his eyes, John folded his arms and cleared his throat. Loudly. It did the trick; the green soldier was jolted out of his reverie. John shot him a look. Be careful, kid.
He wasn't the only one to make known his displeasure. Antigonos, too, still glared ruefully at Kyros.
After several awkward beats of silence, Antigonos finally spoke up. "If our two peoples are to form an alliance, I believe it is only fitting that we make clear what we have to offer. I would like you both to see something." He began to lead the group away.
"Commander, sir!" Kyros broke in. "I… I think Dr. Weir would like to see our records. It would be useful for her to see our history. I could take her there myself—"
"Very well," the commander replied immediately, eager to get the boy out of his hair. "Major Sheppard, please follow Straton. I think you will find what he has to show you much more fascinating."
But John wasn't so sure. He didn't like the idea of her being out of his sight, alone with any one of these people… not to mention that little pipsqueak of a kid was undoubtedly going to try to put the moves on her.
"Major?" Antigonos prompted.
John hesitated. He saw Elizabeth looking his way, an apologetic look on her face. No doubt she was amused by Kyros' schoolboy crush and enjoyed John's resulting vexation. She probably thinks it's hilarious, Sheppard thought to himself. She seemed to read the deeper worry in his eyes, though, as her expression turned from one of teasing to one of reassurance.
"Major Sheppard?" the commander asked once more. Unaccustomed to waiting, he began to grow irritated.
"Yeah, sure," John finally answered. "Sergeant, corporal – you two go with her," he directed the two marines with whom they had arrived at the encampment. "Kirkland, why don't you take your team back to the Jumpers. Ford and a few others should be waiting there for you."
There were nods all around. Antigonos seemed to frown at the direction, but John didn't give a damn. Kyros, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, eager for more company from the new and interesting visitors.
Locking eyes with John one last time, Elizabeth tried to convey a final message. Stop worrying. I'll be fine. He must have understood, because he turned with Straton and began walking across the camp. Elizabeth, Kyros, and the two marines walked in the opposite direction. It was only then that she noticed Antigonos walking in a third direction, separate from either of the two groups.
"What about you?" she called after him.
"I have more important matters to attend to," he replied coldly without turning around, continuing to walk to some undisclosed destination.
Okay then, Dr. Weir thought to herself.
John walked with Straton in silence. They had covered about half of the clearing without uttering a word to one another. The pilot got the feeling that the big guy wasn't the bubbly, chatty type.
"So…" John started, struggling to break the awkward quiet, "you guys originally from around here?"
The colossal man threw him a puzzled look. "I do not understand."
"Have you always lived on this planet, I mean?"
"Yes."
Okay. "What about your great, great grandparents – your ancestors? Were they from here?"
"Yes."
Come on, guy, John thought, throw me a bone, here! Then John recalled his prior – albeit brief – conversation he had with Straton. At least he had gotten multiword responses from him. "You never did explain how that thing worked," prompted the major, nodding to the rifle the soldier was carrying.
Straton seemed to perk up at the mention of weaponry. "It is very complicated technology," he began, giving John a faint hope that this could evolve into an actual dialogue. "Unlike some of our other less-favored weaponry, these contain no moving parts. Energy is stored and then discharged through an electrically-charged projectile, hitting the target in one of two modes: stun or kill. The stun mode paralyzes the victim either locally or systemically – depending on the power level selected by the user and the point of impact. And the kill mode… the kill mode delivers a charge that advances up the nervous system to the brain. No body can recover."
Despite the morbid subject, John was glad to have gotten the soldier to speak full sentences. The man was obviously not dumb. John had just needed to find a topic Straton was partial to, like Elizabeth's something-about-Eastern-European-socio-economic-rift, or John's flying. And apparently that something was… guns.
John eyed the big rifle slung on the man's back. Its metallic finish still reflected the sun, although less so now that clouds were moving in. Apart from a trigger on the underside, there were few distinguishing features. The barrel and grip were molded together, fused as one piece. It wasn't glowing as it had been earlier.
Straton caught him looking. He halted. "Would you like to inspect it, Major?"
The offer caught Sheppard off guard – not just the display of generosity, but the fact that one of the Lacedami would trust him—
"It is unloaded," Straton explained knowingly, reading the skeptical look plainly registered on the major's face.
Ah, of course it is, John thought. So much for trust. Nevertheless, he accepted the weapon from Straton and immediately noted its hefty weight. No wonder these guys are so buff. Ten minutes of lugging this around and I'd be just as —
He cut his train of thought short as the previously dormant weapon suddenly lit up at his touch. A blue glow emanated from underneath the barrel. Cool, Sheppard thought. Touch activated. On the underside of the grip he spotted an empty slot, deducing that it stored the missing capacitor cartridge. He heaved the rifle up to his shoulder and peered down its sight – or what he had expected to be its sight. The small piece of glass a quarter of the way down the barrel was more like a miniature HUD, or heads-up display, one would find in a fighter jet or Puddle Jumper. The scenery beyond glowed in an eerie green, with larger objects in the foreground – a couple of trees, a tent – outlined in a dark yellow. He could only imagine what kind of damage these could do in the dark. Whoa, he thought to himself. Whatever else Elizabeth negotiates with these people, she has got to work a few of these babies into the contract.
After a minute more of playing with the new toy, John reluctantly surrendered the weapon back to Straton. Its lights dimmed as he broke contact. "Pretty cool," he complimented.
Straton practically snatched it back, eager to have it in his hands again. Sheppard found the reaction odd. Gone was the talkative Lacedami; the stoic soldier had returned. Straton seemed puzzled, surprised even, but said nothing.
"You people don't talk much, do you?" John asked outright, slightly miffed at the reaction. And though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he was more than a little troubled by Straton's hostility.
"No," was the one-word answer.
"Thought so," John said. "Maybe you should take a page out of Kyros' book and show a little enthusiasm."
Straton bristled, not at the offhanded snub, John sensed, but at the mention of the younger soldier's name. John didn't push the issue. He did, however, lose whatever hope he had of conversing with the man ever again. They continued their walk in silence.
Mercifully, the remainder of their trek was short, as two minutes later they arrived at the far side of the clearing. This boundary was flanked by a sheer rock wall that was approximately three stories high and spanned several hundred feet. They were at one edge of the wall, about to round the corner into a cove. Even from here, John could see that the cove was completely covered from above by trees – or at least, branches that had been fashioned into an artificial, camouflaged canopy, much like the nets army units around the world utilized to cover small, deployed squads.
"This," Straton said detachedly, rounding the corner first, "this is what the commander wished you to see." His scathing tone said it all: this is what the commander, not me, wished you to see. I am only showing you this because I was ordered to.
John stepped beside him and felt his jaw drop instantly at the site before him. The cove was surrounded on all edges by thick trees. Because of this and the canopy up top, it was cool and murky within. On the whole, it reminded him of a hangar – a fitting analogy considering what lay in the center of the space, the true source of his astonishment.
Parked facing him was the meanest, sleekest, coolest ship John had ever seen. It was about the size of an F-15 Eagle, but sat a lot closer to the ground on three powerful struts. Its wings were swept back at an aggressive angle, and its nose actually angled down slightly, giving it the appearance of a predator ready to pounce on its prey. Unlike traditional fighters, this aircraft had no dedicated fuselage, but rather a blended wing-center section that potentially housed ten or so people, by John's reckoning. All the way aft were two tails, angled slightly outward and swept back almost as severely as the wings. Below its wings, neatly tucked into the body junction on both sides, hung the engines, which reminded John of the Puddle Jumpers' drive pods. It was painted black from nose to tail, but its skin wasn't entirely smooth. Intricate engravings adorned portions of its surface. It screamed speed, and it screamed stealth.
"Holy crap," John breathed. "So when do I get to try that out?"
Leafing through the delicate vellum pages, Elizabeth could not believe what she was seeing. She had gone through dozens and dozens of historical accounts of the Lacedami people, had read their old laws and codes, had been introduced to their beliefs – and strangely, she felt a peculiar familiarity with them, as if she had studied them all before. In the Ancient database, maybe? she thought to herself.
"Here, read this one next," Kyros encouraged keenly.
She had scarcely been able to put down one volume of archaic text before he had been ready with the next. The two sat in a hut, one of the larger ones, she suspected. Tan animal skins served as curtained dividers among the 'rooms' in the structure, although it seemed to Elizabeth that all the spaces served one shared purpose: to house the Lacedami's extensive tomes. She had asked the two marines to remain outside the entrance, sensing Kyros would be more willing to share information without their intimidating presence.
Elizabeth had dived immediately into the texts, speed-reading through their fascinating history. Truth be told, it was far from a complete history – more of smattering of social, political, and economical manuscripts dating back to the days of the Ancients, making some of them thousands of years old. She could hardly keep her excitement from showing, and had to remind herself to handle the documents delicately lest they tear in their fragile state. They were, by far, the most antiquated documents she had ever examined.
Kyros had recognized her passion for history and had been most helpful. Like a puppy, he was simply eager to please. She fought back a smirk, knowing the both she and John had earned themselves an admirer... though she suspected in her case Kyros's admiration was of a more personal nature than professional.
"It looks like your people have had a rich history," Elizabeth prompted, attempting to make conversation.
"Oh, yes," the boy replied proudly. "A great history. We began as simple traders and farmers before progressing technologically. We had used these advancements in the art of warfare. But then…."
"Let me guess. The Wraith saw you as a threat and culled your population," Elizabeth finished for him, sharing his somber tone. "They certainly did cast a shadow over an otherwise perfectly good few millennia." She suddenly had a thought. "Where can I read about what happened right before that culling? I'd like to know how the Lacedami prepared against the Wraith, what technologies you had available to you. Maybe we can learn something that could help us in our fight against them."
Seeing that she had exhausted every text in the room, she stood and began walking toward the divider that separated her from the next area over.
"Wait!" Kyros objected, rushing to block her path.
She stopped mid-stride and raised an eyebrow. She tried to peak over Kyros' shoulder and into the next chamber, but all she could see was a glimpse of more texts. "Is there something in there I shouldn't see?" she asked directly, eyes narrowing.
"No," the young man responded immediately, glancing briefly over his shoulder. "No. It is only… you have not yet read this final document," he claimed, lifting the object from its resting place on a nearby table.
Studying the object, Elizabeth realized he was correct. Forgetting momentarily about the other room, she accepted the text. This one was large and bounded by worn leather hides. The language, like that of many of the other texts, was in the language of the Ancestors.
As she began reading, her eyes widened. John has got to see this….
Straton watched as the John wandered around the craft, reverently running his hands across its surface. His nose inches from its skin now, the pilot could just make out the designs etched in its raven paneling. In fact, they weren't designs but rather text – Ancient text. He didn't know enough Ancient to translate the script but could at least identify the symbols' origin. Unlike the cautionary placards slapped all over American fighter jets, John sensed these flowing words were more of a story than mere labeling, not unlike Atlantis' Gate Room stairs that greeted him after each offworld mission.
"This is your people's aircraft?" he asked, surprised.
"Spacecraft, yes," Straton answered dutifully. "Similar to your 'Puddle Jumpers'."
John scoffed to himself. Not really, he thought. The Puddle Jumpers were Volvos compared to this Ferrari. He wondered what the Lacedami used it for: reconnaissance, air combat, ground attacks?
"You seemed surprised," Straton prompted, a loaded statement.
Sheppard didn't know how to respond. He went with carefully. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that the rest of your culture seems a bit… primitive in comparison, other than the guns, of course. It's kind of an odd combo, that's all."
Taking the comment as offense anyway, the large soldier simply folded his arms and said nothing.
But John had already turned his attention back to the ship. He motioned toward the etchings. "These are Ancient words, right?"
"Yes."
"What's it say?"
"A tribute to the Ancestors."
"So your people must have had a history with them." It was more a statement of fact than a question.
"Perhaps Commander Antigonos would be better suited to answer your questions."
John nodded, accepting the brusque reply for what it was: a slightly more considerate means of telling him to shut the hell up. He couldn't blame the commander's lieutenant for being reluctant to share information. John's own team hadn't exactly been eager to volunteer any details about themselves, either.
"If you will excuse me," Straton put forward, "I must attend to some business with the commander."
Sheppard motioned over his shoulder to the ship. "Do you mind if I—?"
"Commander Antigonos insisted you have all the time you like to examine it." There was that critical tone again. "Do not break anything."
Frowning at the pessimistic comment, John watched the man depart. "I'll try my best," he muttered. And then he was alone… with just about the coolest piece of machinery he had ever seen in his life. John remained frozen in place, ensuring that Straton was indeed gone, before bolting toward the nose of the ship in excitement. He jumped to see if he could peer through the windscreen and into the cockpit, only managing to catch a brief glimpse of two seats and a couple of controls. He had to get in there.
Walking briskly toward the aft end, the major found the hatch on the port side just forward of the drive pods. He found the seam, the handle, reached for it…. Elizabeth would kill me, he thought to himself. He retracted his hand with a sigh and stepped back, looking longingly at the plane. As John stood mulling in silence, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He spun around, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but he was completely alone in the cove.
And that's the problem, Sheppard realized. There was just no way the distrustful Lacedami would ever leave an outsider alone with a remarkable piece of equipment such as this. No, he was most definitely being watched. Although he couldn't see them, John was now sure that there was at least a pair of Lacedami buried in the woods, watching his every move.
Suddenly extremely self-conscious, John slowly backed away from the ship. It was about time he checked in on Elizabeth's progress, anyway. He turned toward the rock wall near where they had entered the cove, listening to the wind thrash against the trees. The storm was approaching. There, something in the woods to his left caught his eye. He squinted, straining to see. As the wind gusted, fleetingly pushing several branches to the side, he could just make out another construct of some sort, hundreds of feet back… and another, maybe more. They were almost entirely obscured by foliage. He took a step forward—
John recoiled as a Lacedami soldier cut in front of his vision. "Jesus Christ!" he swore, startled. "Could you guys maybe learn how to be a little less covert, for crying out loud?"
"Is there something I may help you with?" the soldier asked, his tone completely devoid of emotion.
Looking at the man apprehensively, John decided this place was starting to really give him the creeps. "No…" he answered guardedly. He tried to cast one last glance in the direction of the newly discovered objects, but the wind had died down and he couldn't see anything anymore. "No, I was… just trying to make my way back to Dr. Weir."
"Of course," the Lacedami responded mechanically. Placing a hand on the major's shoulder, he guided him in the opposite direction, back again toward the cove's only point of egress. Once they had rounded the cliff and exited, the man indicated where John could find Elizabeth. Then he posted himself at the cove's entrance and made sure Major Sheppard well and truly left.
As John skulked away like a dog with his tail between his legs, he felt as if he had overstayed his welcome. The feeling that he was being watched had not yet left him. His eyes scanned the huts and tents around the clearing and observed the various people milling about. Men clad in tunics identical to those of the Antigonos and the others performed their various duties. Hunting dogs wrestled in the dirt. It was then that something struck him as odd. For a supposedly thriving society... where were all the women and children?
John sensed it was time to go, at least for now. If there was any hope of capitalizing on the Lacedami's potential benefit to the Atlantis expedition, Elizabeth needed to turn this around and start negotiating on their own terms, on their own turf. Once I tell her about that ship….
He strode with renewed determination across the encampment's central clearing toward the hut Elizabeth occupied. He ignored the pairs of eyes he knew were surveying him. Finally, he reached the structure and passed the two marines who waited outside. He threw open the animal skin flap, immediately spotting Elizabeth seated alone at a table. She wore a look so elated that she could have fooled John into thinking it was Christmas morning.
She noticed his presence and jumped to her feet.
"You have to see this," they both blurted simultaneously, motioning over their respective shoulders.
"No, you really have to see this," John said next, striding quickly to her and grabbing her hands. "They have a ship – a really, really cool spaceship! I tell you: the thing is absolutely wicked. It's the cleanest looking aircraft I've ever seen. I can't figure out what it was designed for, but it looks like it could do some serious damage if it wanted to. Elizabeth, it's probably the single best thing we've come across. Ever."
"That's great," she responded tepidly. It wasn't the reaction John had been hoping for. It soon became apparent that she hadn't been listening to his ramblings.
He sighed. "Okay, what have you got?"
She seemed to brighten at this. Leading him over to the table, she positioned him to look down on a set of leather-bound manuscripts. It was currently open to a page somewhere in the middle of its volume. From its decaying state, John could tell it was old. Very old. Elizabeth's brow arched in expectation of his reaction.
"Wow," he said dryly. "An old, smelly book. You're right: this is way cooler than a stealth-fighter spaceship."
She scowled at him and gently pushed his head in closer to the document. "Do you recognize it?"
John's eyes scanned the densely packed, handwritten symbols. He shrugged. "It's Ancient."
"The characters are Ancient," she corrected, "like most written word in the Pegasus Galaxy, but the content…. I've been having a hard time rationalizing why some of these documents seemed so familiar to me. And then it came to me."
"All right, wise guy," he said with a grin that matched her own. "Spill it. What's the big surprise?"
She took a deep breath before continuing. "I recognize these manuscripts because I've studied them before, extensively."
"What, in the Atlantis database?"
"No. On Earth."
The revelation broadsided Sheppard. "Come again?"
"John," Elizabeth breathed, looking into his eyes earnestly. She motioned toward the old leather-bound tome. "John, this text… it's the Rosetta Stone."
TBC