Chapter 10

Ronon fired a warning blast in the air, underlining the spray of fire from Teyla's P90; the grenza paused, calling and chirping to each other, flexing their clawed hands threateningly. They began to move forward again, sometimes dropping to all fours, their blank, alien gaze fixed firmly on their prey. Ronon counted six approaching from the front and another two from behind; more than enough to finish himself and his two teammates.

"What do we do?"

Rodney, next to him, his arms stiff and straight, pointed his weapon first at one then another of the monsters, his fast, panicked breaths clearly audible. Some would have thought he was about to break and run; Ronon knew he wouldn't.

"We hold," said Ronon, grimly. "And when they're close enough, fire at the eyes."

"The eyes, the eyes, fire at the eyes," Rodney muttered to himself.

The creatures were in no hurry, stalking their prey inch by inch, knowing they had them surrounded.

"Where are you Sheppard?" pleaded Rodney.

"He'll come," said Ronon. "Teyla! Don't get cut off up there!" As the words left Ronon's mouth the grenza began to move more swiftly and he heard Teyla fire in short, controlled bursts.

"Now!" he yelled and he and Rodney began to fire too. Ronon, ignoring his advice to Rodney, began firing at the clawed hands which stretched toward him, sheering off the curved black knives with blasts from his energy weapon. He heard Teyla's P90 pause briefly then felt her presence at his back and the short, rattling bursts were loud in his ears, drowning out the rapid jab of the Beretta. One of the grenza that he'd declawed turned and fled and one or two others paused, but then attacked with renewed vigour. Ronon knew they couldn't hold out for long; in a smooth sweep, he drew his long blade from its sheath at his back and parried a swipe of black claws aimed at Rodney, still firing at the beasts in front of him. Teyla was firing on full automatic and would soon need to reload. Now, Ronon thought. It needs to be now, or never, Sheppard!

And then their weapons' fire was drowned by a resounding explosion and Ronon flung up his arms as chips of rock rained down upon him. The grenza howled, there was another explosion, and the air filled with dust so that Ronon could barely see his companions. The creatures scattered in confusion and he turned and steered Rodney to the edge of the platform he'd created, seeing Teyla next to him through the dust. Most of the grenza had fled in terror at the drone strikes, but two of the largest turned back, reluctant to abandon their prey. All three teammates turned their fire upon the two approaching monsters and then there was a large shape lowering itself next to them, the rear hatch opened and the welcome sound of another P90 joined in. They backed toward the hatch, maintaining continuous fire, then turned and ran up the ramp, John's P90 continuing to split the air until they were safely inside and the hatch was raised.

oOo

"Nice rescue, Sheppard," Ronon rumbled.

John didn't reply, but concentrated on lifting the Jumper off and getting them safely away. He knew he had almost been too late, and that if he'd truly knocked himself senseless against the side of the Jumper, his team would probably be dead by now. As it was, winded and exhausted, he'd felt as if he were moving in a pain-filled fog, and it had taken a monumental effort to haul himself up and, thankfully entering the Jumper and out of the burning sun at last, he'd nearly fallen asleep as he slumped into the pilot's seat. But he hadn't, he reminded himself; he'd made it, scared away most of the monsters with a couple of drones, snatched up one of the spare weapons and covered his team as they retreated to safety.

"Sheppard?" Rodney's voice, and John realised he had been talking and was looking at John with concern.

"Uh, yeah, could you take her for a bit, Rodney?"

"Yes, are you okay? You look pretty... well very..."

"Beat up? Yeah. It wasn't great." John eased himself out of the pilot's seat, wincing, and beginning to realise that his appearance wasn't that inspiring. His clothes and skin and hair were filthy with dust and sweat, blood had run down his exposed arms and tears in his pants revealed red beneath.

"What happened to your eyes?" asked Rodney.

"Oh, dust, grit..." said John, vaguely. "It wasn't great," he said again and swayed, gripping the back of the pilot's seat.

He heard Teyla's voice and felt himself being steered to the back of the jumper and pushed gently down onto one of the bench seats. He leant back and closed his eyes.

John was aware, in a limited kind of way, of Teyla's and Ronon's voices, and felt someone removing his tac vest. A canteen was held to his lips and he drank, choked, spluttered and woke up enough to see Teyla, the Jumper's medkit next to her, looking at him dubiously as if she wasn't sure where to start. He smiled at her sleepily and then allowed his eyes to droop again, until he felt cool against his skin and realised that someone was pulling at his t-shirt.

"Leave me 'lone," he slurred.

"John, this is torn and very dirty and you have a spare one," Teyla said, firmly.

"'kay," he conceded, grudgingly, and then did his best to sleep through the proceedings. The sting of disinfectant kept him from drifting away as much as he would have liked to; he thought Teyla was taking a top-down approach, starting with his face (Had he cut his face? He didn't remember) and then on down his arms. Then it seemed as if both arms were burning and stinging at once, and his eyes flickered open to see Teyla on one side and Ronon on the other.

"Tag team," he murmured, and then carried on trying to ignore them; which was impossible when his head was tipped back and liquid was suddenly squirted into his eyes.

"Hey, what the...?"

"Your eyes are bloodshot, John and probably have grit in. I did warn you."

"Well, I didn't hear you!" he protested, fully awake now. Teyla carried on, and he did his best to keep still until she had finished irrigating his eyes, but then she started unbuckling his belt, which was when John decided he'd had enough.

"Teyla!" He pushed her hands away.

"John!" It was her 'I mean it!' voice. "You have cuts on your legs that need to be cleaned. And these are doing very little to preserve your modesty," she added, with what could almost be described as a smirk.

He looked down at himself. As predicted, there was an angry-looking bruise on his chest from where he had landed on the pointed rock. Other colourful areas were beginning to bloom, and his shoulders, arms and hands were decorated with a variety of band-aids and dressings.

"I look like I'm being held together with tape," he said.

"I cannot tape these, John," said Teyla. Which was all too true, John realised, blushing, as he saw the state of his pants; gaping rents in strategic places, so that they were almost falling off.

"Here," said Ronon, thrusting a power bar at him. "Eat this and just let us get on with it."

John's stomach gave an unhappy twist of agreement and he took the bar and ate, trying not to squirm with embarrassment.

oOo

"Is he okay?" asked Rodney, his eyes flicking toward the rear compartment where his team leader was laid out on one of the bench seats, snoring, before returning to the viewscreen.

"He is exhausted, but he will be alright," replied Teyla.

"Exhausted? No wonder, running all that way!" Rodney sorted through the MRE in his lap, found the cake, and began to devour it in sympathy at John's calorie deficit.

"Looks like he fell down most of it," said Ronon. There was a repressive silence, which meant that Ronon was the subject of a Teyla special. "You got a lead on that thing?" asked Ronon, unaffected.

"Yes," said Rodney, "and I've configured the LSD to track it, although I'm not sure following it on foot's going to be a good strategy."

"Fast?"

"Very."

"We will do what must be done," said Teyla. "To protect the people of this world."

There was an uncomfortable silence, none of them sure that they could stop what they had unwittingly released. Rodney flew on into the fading light. He frowned. He altered course, so that the Jumper faced more toward the west.

"That's the sunset, right?"

"Yes, Rodney, of course," Teyla said, puzzlement in her voice.

Rodney altered course again, turning to the south-east.

"So, what's that?"

Teyla and Ronon stood up and gazed out of the viewscreen, where, low down, on the far horizon, the sky glowed red.

"That's fire," came a despairing voice from behind them. "The forest's burning."

oOo

"A forest fire," breathed Rodney.

"They've got fire breaks," said Ronon. "They're prepared."

"I do not think any preparations could be enough," said Teyla, sadly, remembering the parched state of the forest as they had left it.

"Dry as tinder," Rodney said, softly, repeating his words of several weeks ago. The glow grew in the sky as they approached the lowlands and the forest. "What can we do? We can't fight the fire as well as the Ancient's creature!"

Teyla watched John's battered face, seeing the weariness forced to one side by his determination.

"Where's the... I can't keep saying 'creature'. What're we calling this thing?"

"Guardian Type Two, the Ancients called it," said Rodney.

"Catchy," sneered John, shrugging on his tac vest, his jaw clenching as he moved his arms and shoulders.

"I don't know! Um... the children's tale was about a witch, so... witch's cat..." Rodney snapped his fingers. "Salem!"

"What's that from?"

Teyla was glad she knew her team well and was not dismayed by this apparent waste of time. In a moment they would stop and John would have worked out at least plans a, b and c and Rodney would have various strategies at his fingertips. Rodney mumbled a reply to John's question.

"What?"

"Sabrina the teenage witch, okay?" yelled Rodney.

As expected, John sniggered and Ronon smirked and then it was back to business.

"So, where's Salem?"

"I think near Fren's farm," said Rodney. Ronon shifted, and his teeth ground together audibly. "But it's not moving much anymore," Rodney continued. "It seems to be just going in circles."

Ronon growled. "Drones. Fire drones at it."

"And risk hitting anyone nearby? And start another wildfire? No! We don't even know if that would work!"

"Okay, listen up!" John interrupted. "One thing at a time! How big is the fire, Rodney?"

Rodney brought up a map on the HUD and then the image lit with colour, a long, vibrant, curving slash along one edge.

"Going by infra-red, I'd say the front is about a mile long, with a couple of isolated spots ahead. See how the wind's blowing it south west?"

"Did Salem start it?" Ronon asked.

"No, I don't see how," Rodney said. "It's in the wrong place."

"Here's what we're gonna do," said John. "Rodney, you set me and Ronon down near Salem and we'll see if we can get it to eat all our C4..."

"I don't think that'll work!" said Rodney. "And if it does that's another great way to start a wildfire!"

"Then we'll wait til it's on a road or a river..."

"The rivers are dried up!"

"Rodney!" John barked. "I'll think of something!"

"But..."

"And in the meantime, you and Teyla go to the wetlands, close the inner bulkhead and sink the Jumper, fill it up and let it go over the wildfire."

"John, I do not see why..."

"Can you run, Teyla? Your knee, will it stand up to running?"

Teyla reluctantly shook her head.

"Go with Rodney, then," insisted John. "Alright, let's get this done!"

"No, but wait!"

"Rodney..."

"Wait! I have a better idea. The waffle!"

"That'll have to wait!"

"Listen to me, dammit!" Rodney demanded. "You oxidise methane, you get CO2 and you get water! Water, Sheppard! The machine has water tanks, big enough to hold... I don't know: enough, anyway! Enough to put out the fire!"

"You'd have to get down there, you'd have to unbury it, get it working. I don't think so, McKay!"

"John." Rodney's voice was flat and hard with conviction. "I can do this. Trust me."

The familiar frown, the chew of the lower lip, the clipped nod: "Do it."

oOo

Awareness had come, but without knowledge; life, without shape or form. It had moved without consciousness of movement and its mass had been gathered from that which it passed by, flowed through, bonded with. It followed a smooth straight contour, its awareness growing of the forces that made up the world; gravity, inertia, density, and then light. And, pausing, while categorising the radiation forms it bathed in, it had felt an urge; it knew its first desire, but not from where the desire came or its meaning or purpose. Yielding to the urge, it had begun to move again, tasting its surroundings, assimilating, categorising, storing or discarding. It had passed through a tight matrix of ordered ranks, pushing itself on and down, feeling the flow of the particles into and through itself, merging with them; and then, when it had burst into radiance once more it had left behind an unordered amorphous mass of the substance, drifting with a slight movement of air molecules and then settling at gravity's pull.

It had travelled and tasted and grown and shrunk until it had begun to encounter things of solidity that had inner moisture. It had tasted these things also, and it had known that its desire would soon be fulfilled.

oOo

The Jumper lifted off and flew away into the blood-tinged night. John eased his pack on his sore shoulders and looked down at the LSD in his hand.

"Where is it?"

John pointed along the track toward the farm. Fren and Grella's farm, where they lived with their four children: Maddy, Tallen, Ellet and Penda. They started walking. John stumbled over the hardened cart ruts and angled his P90 down to light their way.

"Sheppard, look at this."

Ronon had stopped at the side of the track, and John saw that there was a tunnel meandering through the forest, littered with a familiar drift of fine grey dust. He touched one of the trees, feeling the smoothly ground texture and seeping moisture where a curved slice of the trunk had been removed.

"We have to stop this," John said.

"We will."

John didn't reply, his thoughts trying to escape, to linger on the people of this close-knit community, and the haven they had provided for himself and his team. He forced himself to stop thinking about them and focus on the task; the consequences of failure didn't bear thinking about and he would not be distracted.

"The signal's coming from that way," said John, pointing off the track and into the trees.

"I want to check the farm."

John looked at the LSD. The signal hadn't moved.

"Okay."

They approached the farm buildings and John felt Ronon's tension, saw the tight muscles in his arm twitching as he gripped his weapon hard.

"They'll be okay, Ronon," he murmured, his eyes on the LSD.

"They better be."

There was no light showing; no candle or lantern or fire light, and John felt some of his tension leave him. They entered the farmyard; doors were open, the livestock gone, and the cart not in the barn.

"They've gone," said Ronon.

"They've taken the kids to the Helg," said John. "Maybe to the Gate." A flicker from the LSD caught his eye. "It's moving off. We need to go."

"Ronon! John!" Two figures burst from the shadows of the barn, one on two feet, one on four. John felt a furry body circling his legs and saw Ronon catch the two-footed figure as she hurled herself onto him.

"Maddy?"

"I was at the Helg! And Tam said there was a fire! And I needed to get home and tell Mam and Dad but they'd gone and then there was something in the forest and Bouddie didn't like it and neither did I and we hid!" Maddy released her grip on Ronon and slid down, but stayed leaning against him, her dirty, tear-stained face turned up to his.

"Did you see it?" he asked.

"No… I… It was big, but… I don't know, I couldn't see, like it wasn't really there. We ran," she said, looking slightly shame-faced.

"You did the right thing, Maddy." John looked again at the LSD. "I've gotta get after it. Give me your C4."

Ronon hesitated.

"You need to get Maddy to safety," John insisted. "Gimme all the C4, I need to go!"

Ronon shook his head, but complied, emptying the contents of his pack into John's.

"I don't like this, Sheppard."

"I don't love it," said John, with a hollow flicker of a smile. He shouldered the heavy pack once more, checked the LSD and looked briefly at Ronon, neither of them needing to put into words what they felt. A terse jerk of a nod, and John turned and began a jogging pursuit of the trace on the LSD.

oOo

Rodney had never been more grateful for the Jumpers' high speed flight capability; the continent flashed beneath them within seconds, leaving behind the glowing wings of flame that spread across the dark forest, the glimmer of moonlight on the marsh, and beyond, much further beyond, until the moon reflected in a myriad of tiny wrinkles that were the surface of the ocean. The thought of plunging the Jumper beneath this surface would normally have given Rodney pause, which is to say, he would have refused outright. On this occasion, he slowed the Jumper slightly, turned to Teyla in the co-pilot's seat for a brief glance of reassurance on her part, and a sickly smile on his, and plunged the vehicle into the waves. No disaster having ensued, he opened his eyes and shakily brought up the HUD.

"Directly beneath us," he said.

"That was good flying, Rodney," Teyla smiled.

"Thank you. Yes. Not bad. Um… I'll take us down in a spiral and we can check out how deeply it's buried.

"The 'waffle'," said Teyla.

"CCM," mumbled Rodney.

They descended, the Jumper's lights barely penetrating the murky water. Rodney monitored the HUD.

"Hmm."

"Rodney?"

"Ten thousand years. That's a lot of sediment."

"It is deeply buried?"

"Oh, yes," said Rodney, dryly. He studied the HUD, tapping his fingers nervously on the console. "Okay," he said, steadying himself. "Okay, I'm just going to go ahead and do this! Time waits for no man and so on!"

"Rodney, what are you…?"

A streak of yellow shot out into the darkness and down, disappearing from sight. A second later there was a dull rumble beneath them and the water became clouded with rising bubbles and debris. Rodney released a short, slightly hysterical laugh.

"I think that's done it!"

"You used a drone. Was that not risky?"

"Yes! Yes, it was, but, you know, needs must and all that! And I was careful! I sent it in at a shallow angle to break up the layer of sediment. Now, let's have a closer look."

The visibility worsened as Rodney took the Jumper down toward the ocean bed, where, he hoped, the Waffle, (CCM, he reminded himself) lay intact. He relied on the HUD to navigate and descended until the Jumper was nosing its way through semi-solid detritus.

"I think that's about as far as we can go with that strategy," said Rodney.

"How far below us is the Waffle?"

"Not far, but I need to aim for a Jumper port and it's still pretty blocked."

"The drone did not cause damage?"

"No. That is, I don't think so."

The HUD displayed an outline diagram of the Waffle, huge and flat, apart from its central section, and apparently undisturbed and undamaged. Rodney tried to make his mental commands to the Jumper crystal clear; he changed their orientation, so that the rear hatch was aimed in the right direction and then he altered the settings on the inertial dampeners so that the Jumper sank down and anchored itself in the soft sediment. Short bursts of power to the thrusters created swirling clouds all around them and blew sediment out of the way until there was a clear path to their rear. Rodney reversed, recognised that the Jumper was homing in on its port, and brought it into the dock, with only a small grating crunch as the remaining sediment was forced out of the way.

"The eagle has landed," said Rodney. "Now we get to find out if the airlock still works."