Time Immemorial
Chapter 6: Cultural Complex
July 16th
1703 Hours
One hour later, Dr. Weir rejoined the group in the Control Room where Teyla was concluding their guests' tour. The brief respite had given Elizabeth time to change out of her offworld uniform and back into her customary red shirt with black slacks and matching jacket. She had always felt that this uniform had suited her better.
What she hadn't been able to do, however, was get a hold of Rodney. The scientist was supposed to have updated her on the status of the power repairs… twenty minutes ago. As usual, McKay was running late and was off radio. So instead, Elizabeth decided to check in on their guests. Teyla was now wrapping up their full-circle excursion into the City. Hopefully the Lacedami had been dazzled by what was shown to them. And hopefully they weren't offended by the three marines she had ordered to tail them the whole time.
"Did you enjoy the tour?" Elizabeth asked as she approached the group. She noticed Kyros was missing, presumably with Carson in the infirmary.
"Very much so, Dr. Weir," a decidedly more calm Antigonos replied. "This city is everything I had hoped it would be, thank you."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the commander's uncharacteristically bright demeanor. He must have seen something he liked. "You're very welcome. But it's Teyla you should be thanking for taking time out of her busy schedule to show you around."
"It was no trouble at all, Dr. Weir. Our guests were most… zealous," the Athosian replied with a friendly smile, though Elizabeth suspected her true opinion of them would prove most different.
"Ah, yes, Teyla was telling us of her people and their unfortunate uprooting by the Wraith," Antigonos commented. "Your own expedition, Dr. Weir, was kind enough to take the Athosians in."
"Only until they could get back on their feet," Elizabeth explained with a respectful nod in Teyla's direction.
"Dr. Weir's people have proven to be a powerful ally to many peoples of this galaxy," the Athosian leader endorsed, hoping to subtly nudge Antigonos' opinion of the Atlanteans in the right direction.
"And I couldn't have asked for a better segue," Elizabeth declared. "Why don't we head to the conference room and begin discussing business—"
At that moment, the overhead lights and all consoles in the Control Room blacked out. The darkness lasted a full ten seconds before someone thought to activate a flashlight, but no sooner had the small torch been lit than all the devices in the Control Room awoke once again.
An embarrassed host in front of her guests, Elizabeth felt her cheeks redden at the faux pas. The rolling blackouts were worsening.
"What happened?" Straton wondered aloud in his baritone voice.
"I apologize," Elizabeth recovered. "We are having some slight power problems at the moment. In fact, it's one of the things I'd like to discuss with you—"
"Elizabeth!" a voice shouted from the back of the Control Room. Rodney McKay announced his arrival, carrying a tablet computer under one arm and a coffee mug in the other hand. The mug had 'No Coffee, No Worky' plastered prominently on its side.
"Rodney!" Elizabeth hissed in a hushed tone. She led him over to the far end of the Control Room so her guests wouldn't overhear. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you for almost half an hour!"
"Getting this," he replied, hoisting his coffee for her to see. He seemed to notice the Lacedami pair for the first time. After giving them the once-over, he shrugged and continued as if they weren't there. "I need to show you something."
Pointing to his computer screen, McKay showed Elizabeth a map of Atlantis. The City was divided into sections. Currently, one section was darkened.
"Does this map illustrate where in the City the blackouts are occurring?" Elizabeth asked.
"No, no, no. This map shows – well, yes, that's exactly what is shows, actually. Up-to-date, real time tracking of the rolling blackouts. Here, here, watch," Rodney said excitedly, his eyes locked onto the screen.
Elizabeth didn't share his enthusiasm for the situation, but she obeyed. At first, nothing happened. "What am I looking—"
"Sshh, just watch!"
Then, the sector previously blacked out lit up once again, while another seemingly random portion of the City turned an inky black on the map.
"This is not what we need right now," Elizabeth muttered to herself.
"What about them?" McKay asked, nodding toward Antigonos and Straton. "Have they offered to help?"
"We haven't exactly gotten around to asking yet. It's been a little strenuous thus far. They certainly seem technologically capable, though." But the fact that you're entertaining the notion of help from strangers doesn't bode well, she added silently to herself.
She continued to watch the screen. Frowning, Elizabeth noticed something. "The blackouts are getting more frequent."
"And longer in duration, yes. I can now say with a fair amount of certainty that we have—" the Canadian check his watch "— just over eleven hours before we're completely dead in the water."
As the two continued to study the screen, neither noticed Antigonos eavesdropping on their conversation. Neither noticed him casually move his hand to an inconspicuous button embedded into the leather of his wrist greave and depress it.
"You know," Carson said, "you're pretty fit for a lad of – what, eighteen years?"
"Seventeen," Kyros corrected politely. He sat atop an exam table while Beckett shone a light in his eye.
"Seventeen," the Scot repeated, impressed. "When I was seventeen, I think the most activity I had was chasin' after girls at university."
"What is 'university'?"
"University. School." Seeing the look of confusion on the young man's face, he tried to explain further. "You know, education, learnin', academics…. Come now, don't tell me that you dinna have some sorta schoolin' in your culture." The boy simply shrugged. "Oh my," the doctor breathed, trying to picture what his life would have been like without academia. "Now just what does a lad of seventeen do if he isn't studyin' math, science, the arts, history—"
"Oh, yes," Kyros interjected. "We do study our people's history. The commander insists."
Beckett made that typical doctor "mmhmm" noise. "And just what else does the commander insist you do with your time?"
Again, Kyros shrugged. "What my people have always done. We train from a very early age to be warriors. It is our purpose."
Carson put down his stethoscope and studied the boy. "You're meanin' to tell me that all you've ever learned how to do is fight?"
"Since I was nine," Kyros answered proudly. "The same holds for all Lacedami."
"That explains your healthy form," he muttered to himself, resuming his checkup. "Haven't you ever wanted to do anythin' else, to be anythin' other than a soldier?"
The young man looked dumbfounded. "What else is there?"
"What else is there?" the Beckett echoed with a huff. "Well… you could be a doctor, for one. It's a fine profession, make no mistake – despite what some naysayers around these parts might say. There are also scientists. We've got plenty of those around here, and each comes with quite a stout ego, to be sure. Dinna go talkin' to Rodney McKay, now, or he'll have you believin' he's a god amongst us mere mortals. Then there are the historians. I'll no' go on about them or I'll win ower. I never quite did tak a notion o it, and I oft find it so dreich that I mak wey o anesel—"
"Why do you talk differently than the others?"
Carson stopped himself. "I'm sorry, lad. When I really get goin' it's easy for me to slip back into my native tongue. I'm from a place called Scotland."
"Scot land? What is it like?"
"Only the best place on Earth," Carson touted. "Green pastures, open seas, an' the finest people you'll ever meet – not to mention the food. What I wouldn't give to have a warm bridie right now."
"That sounds wonderful," Kyros remarked with a grin, absorbing the doctor's enthusiasm.
"What about you, lad? What about your home?"
Kyros shrugged. "I suppose you know more about this planet than we do, with all of your Ancient technology. I have lived here my entire life. Our people have known no other home."
"You dinna say," Carson mumbled, placing a stethoscope on the young man's back and listening for several counts. "I'm surprised your people haven't expanded to all corners of the continent, then."
"The Wraith have kept our population at bay," Kyros answered distantly. Carson speculated that the boy must have experienced something traumatic in his past. He didn't press.
"I noticed you an' your two friends share the same blue eyes," the doctor prompted. Explained by the small gene pool.
"Yes," Kyros answered, picking up. "It is a mark of our proud heritage."
"All of your people share this trait, then?"
A nod was his answer. The young man pointed at Carson's own blue eyes. "You, too, are blessed by the gods."
"I don't know about that," Beckett replied, stifling a laugh. "I've woken up alone too many mornings to consider myself blessed... although bein' in this place does make a strong case to the contrary. I'm glad I signed up for this expedition."
"Is Dr. Weir truly your expedition leader?"
"Of course," Carson answered. "And a fine one at that. Why do you ask?"
"I am sorry, it is only... Our people have never seen a female leader before. It is not our way."
"No need to apologize for your beliefs, lad. There are plenty of cultures back on Earth that share the same belief. Lucky for us, this expedition wasna one of them. Now hold out your index finger; this will pinch a wee bit."
"Lucky?" Kyros prompted, holding out his finger obediently. He didn't even flinch as Carson pricked his finger for a blood sample.
"Aye, lucky. We'd be lost without Elizabeth to guide us, I guarantee you that. Talk about blessed."
Kyros frowned, struggling to comprehend. "I suppose... I just assumed Major Sheppard would be the one in charge."
"Ah," Carson grinned knowingly. "Now there's an interesting relationship." In more ways than one. He placed a drop of Kyros' blood on a slide and covered it with a small transparent plastic piece. "Dr. Weir is the expedition leader, yes, but Major Sheppard is in charge of the base's military contingent. You can see how that might cause problems. To their credit, though, they worked through most of their problems early on - professional problems, anyway. They make quite the team, if I do say so." Quite the couple, too, if only they'd realize it.
"I see," Kyros said thoughtfully, digesting the new information. And then, hesitantly: "Is Dr. Weir... spoken for?"
Carson nearly dropped the blood sample he was holding, so shocked was he at the boy's forwardness. The poor lovesick seventeen-year-old was way out of his league, not to mention born in the way wrong decade. "Ah, a cheeky bugger, aren't you?" he teased with a grin. "That's somethin' you'd have to ask Elizabeth, but I think you might have some competition for her affections."
"From whom?"
Never one to resist gossip, Carson looked about for anyone listening before he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "Well, you didna hear it from me, but I've noticed Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard quite fancy one another. In fact, if you've been around here as long as I have, it's bloody hard to miss. It's like a soap opera, is what it is," he added with a scowl. I wish they would get on with it, for Christ's sake
"Oh," Kyros said, somewhat dejectedly. "Are they... betrothed?"
Carson coughed for several seconds, trying to regain his breath and overcome the hammershock. "Dear Lord," the doctor finally said, unable to suppress his laughter this time, "no, no, they aren't married. But they can certainly fight like they are, I'll tell you that. Just... don't go puttin' the moves on Dr. Weir unless you want a good beatin' from the major."
Kyros didn't understand. "Does Major Sheppard ever disobey Dr. Weir's orders?"
"Only everyday," he answered with a scoff, "and only when he feels the need to be wrong publicly."
"When who feels the need to be wrong publicly?" echoed a voice from the doorway.
Both Kyros and Carson jumped at the sound of the newcomer. The conspirators straightened up, guilty.
"Major," Carson greeted, hoping to hell Sheppard hadn't heard their conversation. "We were... I was just explainin' to Kyros the western hemisphere's view on gender roles and authority. There's a sayin' back on Earth that took me a long while to learn, so I'll let you in on the secret now when you're still young," the doctor said, addressing the Lacedami. "Women are always right, whether they are or aren't. And dinna you go forgettin' that - isn't that so, Major?"
John held his hands up in mock surrender. "That is one sticky pile I refuse to step in," he said, but his thoughts drifted to Elizabeth. Though the saying was meant to be facetious, this particular woman was usually right. But I won't ever admit that to her, he thought with a grin.
Poor Kyros looked utterly lost.
"So what brings you to my part of town, Major?" Carson asked.
"I came to pick up our guest," John said, nodding at the boy. "That is, if you're all done with him."
"Aye, I think we're all set here."
"What about you, kid?" John asked of Kyros. "Ready to rejoin those exciting trade negotiations?"
"Yes, sir," the Lacedami answered respectfully. He hopped to his feet, eager to join the military man. "Thank you for letting me see your laboratory, Dr. Beckett."
"It was my pleasure," Carson answered, humbled. "And thank you for volunteering your time to help me with my tests." Catching Kyros' eye, he motioned in Sheppard's direction, then mimed the action of zipping his lips shut. He hoped the signs were universal enough to convey his message: Don't tell Sheppard about our talk.
Kyros squinted in confusion, but seemed to eventually receive the message. He nodded in understanding, smiling slightly at the exciting prospect of keeping a secret.
Not one to miss much, John sensed something amiss but didn't question either of the two. "Catch you later, Doc," he said warily, motioning Kyros toward the exit.
"Goodbye," Beckett called after them. Once the pair had left, he realized just what a good time he had had talking with the young Lacedami soldier. "What a charming young man," he muttered under his breath, busying himself with his work once more.
Reaching the conference room with Kyros in tow, John was surprised to see the door panels swing open and Antigonos and Straton rush out. Elizabeth and Teyla were the last to exit.
Too befuddled to form words, John simply held his palms up, as if to say, What gives? "What did we do to piss them off this time?" He watched the Lacedami pair stalk off down one of the hallways, escorted by a marine.
"Nothing, actually," Elizabeth answered outside of the conference room. The doors returned to their closed positions.
"Nothing," John repeated doubtfully. "If that was the end of a negotiation that went well, I clearly have a lot to learn about this diplomacy stuff."
"We had barely begun discussions when Antigonos was contacted by his people," Teyla explained.
"Contacted? Contacted how?"
Elizabeth sighed, resigned to explain the news to John. "Their ship is on its way here from the mainland. They radioed in to our Control Room a few minutes ago."
"Whoa, whoa, slow down. Their ship, coming here," he repeated for clarification. He was met with nods. "Do we know why?"
"One of their more senior citizens has fallen ill back on the mainland," Teyla explained. "They requested sending several of their men to explain the situation to the commander so that he may decide whether or not to return to his people."
"And before you ask, yes, I granted them their request," Dr. Weir told the major. "They have clearance to land on the western pier in approximately ten minutes-," she held up her hand, halting John's forthcoming question, "- under the escort of two Puddle Jumpers and a team of marines."
John seemed satisfied by this last bit but he still had concerns. He couldn't remember seeing any elderly Lacedami in their encampment, ill or otherwise. He opened his mouth to voice them, but was beaten to the punch by Kyros.
"I must take my leave; please excuse me," the Lacedami said hurriedly, taking special care to avoid eye contact with any of them. He dashed down the hall after his commander. The three remaining expedition members stared after him.
"Well that was weird," mumbled the pilot, voicing all of their thoughts aloud. Things were starting to unravel just a bit too much for his liking.
"Major, Dr. Weir," Teyla said, bringing them back to the present. "I think we must consider the possibility that though the original delegation may not have concealed anything on their persons-"
"This new group just might, I agree," Elizabeth finished. "But given our already strained relationship, I don't want to broach the subject of searches with Antigonos just now. Instead, I'd like to have the occupants of the inbound craft thoroughly searched before meeting up with their commander - persons, clothing, everything. I'd also like them to concurrently undergo Beckett's tests, before Antigonos has a chance to protest. Let him find out later. Major, take Captain Ford and Sergeant Bates, and to do a thorough search of that ship once everyone has disembarked."
"Yes, ma'am," Sheppard said with a grin. "I'd thought you'd never ask."
"You're welcome." It had been the only real reason she had granted Antigonos his request: so that her people could examine their ship, to garner a better understanding of their technology. "Teyla, please escort Antigonos, Straton, and Kyros to one of the guest quarters. Make sure they remain there until the rest of their party is brought to them. Afterwards, give them their privacy, but post two guards at the room's door, understand?"
Teyla nodded and ran down the hallway after the Lacedami.
"Anyone else getting the hebeegeebees yet?" John asked rhetorically once he and Elizabeth were alone.
"Something certainly is hinky about all this," she agreed, biting her lip.
"I know I don't have to remind you that it was Antigonos' original intent to get more of his people in Atlantis."
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth contemplated his words. "You know, I remember a time not too long ago when I really wanted to believe that everyone had some good in them. And look where that got us," she answered, looking a touch somber as she recalled the Klaan disaster. "Maybe this is nothing, maybe... maybe this is an overreaction. But I'm sure as hell not going to make the same mistake twice. If there is a problem looming on the horizon, we're going to stay at least one step ahead of it."
As he watched her speak, John knew that he could say no words to assuage her - no joke would brighten her spirit, no words of reassurance would console her. This was a side of Elizabeth he knew she only let him see, and rarely at that, a side that punished herself daily for past mistakes. And while he had forgiven her - in truth, he had never blamed her - he knew she would never forgive herself. He knew because he could never forgive himself for the role he had played with the Klaans. But he also knew that that other side of Elizabeth Weir would ultimately win out and provide her the strength his words could not. Quite simply, he didn't need to suffocate her with optimism. And so he remained silent, watchful.
Elizabeth seemed to sense this and smiled softly in thanks. Whatever was going on, they would figure it out and head it off before it had a chance to develop. His earlier words echoed through her head: I'll back you up, one-hundred percent.
"How many newcomers are we expecting?" John asked, sensing her need to refocus on the problem.
"Three. And if anything other than three unarmed Lacedami step out of that ship, I made it clear that our Jumpers would blow them into the next galaxy."
"Dr. Weir, I like your style."
"Actually, I believe it's your style, Major Sheppard," she replied with a genuine smile. She liked when he teased her with her formal title.
"Ah, that explains why it sounded so good. I hope I'm not rubbing off on you."
"I certainly hope not, either," she answered playfully.
"Dr. Weir, Control Room," came a voice in both of their headsets.
"Peter, what is it?" she answered, speaking into her mic.
"Our scanners are now picking up one ship heading in our direction. It looks to have originated from the mainland. Speed is moderate; it's not doing anything out of the ordinary, ma'am."
"Good, let's make sure it stays that way. Send up the two Jumper escorts."
"Will do. ETA: 6 minutes - oh, what in the..."
"Peter?" Elizabeth called, sharing a concerned look with John. "What's wrong?"
"Sorry, Dr. Weir. The Control Room has just blacked out again. We should regain our scanners momentarily."
"Understood," she said somewhat dejectedly. We are in no shape to take on more guests, she was forced to admit to herself. She shared this revelation silently with John, who gave her a sympathetic look.
Almost a full minute passed before Grodin returned on the line. "The Control Room is back up and running. The Lacedami ship is maintaining course and speed. ETA: 5 minutes."
"Good work, Peter. We'll meet them down on the pier. Weir out."
John didn't have to be told what to do next. "Ford, you out there?" he said into his radio.
"Yes, sir," came the immediate reply.
"Assemble a team, ASAP, and meet us on the western pier in five. Grab Bates, too."
"Copy that, sir. See you in five."
TBC