Chapter 10 – Claire
She opened her eyes slowly. A white, pale disk crawled in her field of vision, as she became aware of her surroundings. It was a kind of source of light, sending unhealthy, weak beams down on her face. The next thing she detected was the closeness of human beings. She felt the hunger running through her veins, and she tried to sit up, but she could not. She heard a light jingle, and she felt a rough, painful twitch at her neck. She wanted to touch what prevented her from getting up, but she could not move her arms freely either, her wrists were clamped to the surface as well. She did not need much time to realize that she was chained to the bed she was lying on. The feeling of captivity made her furious. She started screaming with rage, and tugged her chains as fiercely as she could.
When the Wraith came to her senses, Doctor Beckett was in the other room, sterilizing syringes in a tray full of transparent, cold liquid. He dried his hands with a towel, as he heard the inhuman, sharp scream from the next room, and he rushed to the glass wall. The Wraith was dragging her chains and screaming savage words in her language. The doctor informed Sheppard and Weir on his radio, and then he turned back to the glass to look at the Wraith. She did not stop struggling, though her wounds were not completely healed yet. Carson sighed, suppressing the desire to go into the room and try to stop her from tearing up her sores with her violent motions. He knew that it was not the suitable time to visit her, so he remained there standing at the wall, glaring down at the captivated Wraith, who could not see him from her position.
As Elizabeth and John joined him, he said, "She is extremely upset now, I think we should give her some time to calm down and accept her situation."
"Alright," Weir nodded. "Let's wait until she finishes screaming."
It turned out to be a long wait. The Wraith was stronger than they thought, and she did not cease fighting against her ties in spite of the horrid pain she must have gone through. She just dragged her chains and kept on screaming.
"I think I should go in now," John said finally, getting bored with waiting. "Today, I'll start our conversation with some plain and straight questions, for I want her to see what she needs to share with us if she ever wants to be free again. Then we can give her some time to think it through." He started to walk to the entrance of the Wraith's ward. Doctor Beckett wanted to stop him first, though he had to see that all his efforts would be useless, so finally he let him go in, but he followed him quickly.
The Wraith, as she heard the door opening, stopped pulling on her chains. The blank, glassy grayness of her irises reminded Doctor Beckett of a frozen kaleidoscope, in which all the colors were dead. She was staring at the ceiling motionless now. They reached her bed with slow steps.
"Hi there," John said to her calmly. "I guess you've already realized that you are a captive here."
She did not even turn in the direction of his voice, she lay there in silence.
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, and he is Doctor Carson Beckett, the one who operated you and saved your life. What's your name?" he asked. As she gave no answer, he went on, "First, we will find you a reasonable name. We will call you... erm..." Sheppard mused a bit over the question which name would be the proper one for the Wraith, but Doctor Beckett interjected, "We will call you Claire," he said.
"Claire? Why Claire?" John inquired.
"It's a long story," Carson shrugged. "I'll tell you once, when we have time." He turned to the injured Wraith. "So, Claire, do you accept your name?"
She gave no response.
"Okay, Claire, we have some questions to you, if you don't mind," Sheppard informed her. "First, do you know anything about a woman called Teyla Emmagan?"
Claire kept silent, she just stared at the ceiling.
"Do you know anything about this bizarre super-hive circling in the neighborhood of Atlantis?" John went on with his questions. The Wraith did not answer.
"Do you have any idea how it could be destroyed?"
Claire gave no reply.
"Okay, Claire, you are playing a foolish game," John sighed. "You are seriously injured, you'll need our help to recover. If you..."
"Who instructed the healer to save my life?" The Wraith's raspy, hoarse question had nothing to do with anything John had said before. Claire turned her head slowly in the direction of the doctor and the soldier standing by her side.
"You mean the one who gave the final order for me to heal you?" Doctor Beckett asked, raising his eyebrows.
"That's it," the Wraith answered laconically.
"It was Doctor Elizabeth Weir, the leader of our expedition," Carson explained. "Would you like to meet her? I guess she has no objections to it. Shall I call her?"
Claire said nothing, she looked up at the ceiling again.
"Would you like to speak to her?" inquired John as well, but the Wraith did not even stir, she gave no response.
"Hmm, this Claire is not the talkative kind," Sheppard made a grimace. "Do you understand that your recovery depends on us?" he asked her. She remained silent.
"Why did you beg for your life?" John went on with his questions patiently. "Why did you ask us to help you?"
Doctor Beckett intervened, when the Wraith gave no answer, "She won't talk now, I'm sure of that. Maybe she needs some more rest, we should let her sleep a bit. You can try to question her tomorrow."
Sheppard sighed, "Alright. We'll give you some time, Claire, to think your situation over. Do it thoroughly!"
The Wraith said nothing, she did not even turn in his direction. John rolled his eyes as he left the room.
"Are you hungry?" Doctor Beckett asked the Wraith.
"Yes," she answered with cold, eager glimmering appearing in her grayish, evil eyes. "Can I feed on you?"
"No, no," the doctor protested with an indulgent smile. "You won't hurt anyone here, but I have good news for you. I invented pills that can appease your hunger a bit. They are not as fine as the normal way of your feeding, but they will ease the urge caused by your hunger. I must admit, they are still in the experimental period, they're not fully tested, but if you feel like trying, just let me know."
Claire stared at the ceiling motionless again.
"Do you have great pains?" The doctor inquired, but the Wraith did not answer. "Do you need painkillers? If you do, just tell me." When he saw there was no use asking her any more questions, he nodded. "Okay, my child, rest a bit, I'll come back to you later."
"Where is my necklace?" Claire asked suddenly, turning to the doctor again.
"I'm sorry to say that, but it got seriously damaged when your Dart crashed," Doctor Beckett admitted.
"It did not crash, your associates shot me down," the Wraith remarked with a cool, unfriendly tone of voice. "And you even stole my necklace. Do you humans always try to glorify your deeds when you talk about them?"
The doctor smiled at her, "Yes, in most cases we do, but, honestly, we did not steal your necklace, I have it somewhere here..." He stepped to the night-table standing next to the bed of the injured Wraith, and he began to search in its drawer.
"Here you are," he murmured, lifting up a silver-colored pendant with a big, flat, emerald-green stone in the middle of the jewel. "The chain melted in the flames, and here, at the edge, even the pendant is a bit crooked."
Claire looked at the pendant with a searching, cutting glance.
"In fact, our scientists have already examined this pendant in our labs," the doctor explained. "We believe it could be a part of a Wraith constructed appliance..."
"You found nothing on it," she interjected dryly.
"No, we didn't, so I have the right to give it back to you."
She did not respond, just rested her eyes on him with mistrust.
"I'll give it back to you, if you want to," Carson repeated with a friendly smile.
"I do," she replied briefly.
The doctor put it down on the night-table. "I'll search a chain for it," he promised. "You can wear it around your neck again, then."
"It used to be my mother's, and she got it from her mother, and she from hers, and so on," Claire said coldly, quickly. It surprised the doctor that she talked about it, and the fact that there were family-traditions among the Wraiths astonished him even more.
"I have such a souvenir myself," he answered gleefully. "It's a vase. My great-great-great-grandfather ordered it from Venice."
"You must take good care of it." That was Claire's only response. She turned her head again upwards, and she scanned the bare ceiling with her mirthless, emotionless Wraith eyes.
"Would you like a silver or a golden chain for your pendant?" Doctor Beckett asked her, but she gave no answer. "Alright, I'll search for a nice, valuable one. Are you contented?"
She said nothing.
"Do you Wraiths like listening to music?" Carson inquired. "As long as I'm checking on my other patients, you can listen to some songs, if you want. I can ask Doctor Weir for a radio, if you desire..."
"No." Claire's voice was unemotional. "I'm not interested in human music."
"As you wish," he shrugged.
"You humans are very simple creatures," she said hoarsely; Carson was not sure, why this conclusion appeared.
"You think so, do you?" he asked quietly.
"I do," she gave her usual, brief reply.
"You know, I believe that you Wraiths are very simple creatures. Your only thought is just feeding from humans and hunting them down. It's really easy to understand. That's your only motivation."
"You think so, do you?" she threw back his former question mockingly.
Doctor Beckett opened his mouth, but he could not find a proper response, so he just adjusted Claire's blanket, and put her pendant nearer to her on the surface of the night-table. "I guess we should get to know each other before we jump to conclusions," he said finally.
Claire snorted disdainfully, "I'm not interested in getting to know you or your kind," she responded coldly.
"I know," he nodded joyfully, "That's why I suppose you Wraiths are very simple creatures."
Her features froze. It was her turn to struggle for words. The way she kept silent before was with a naturally neutral, stolid expression, but now it was obvious that she desperately wanted to give an answer, she just could not find out what. She started to breathe heavier, and her dark pupils were narrowing.
"Okay, okay, don't get mad at me," the doctor said, "I was just kidding."
Claire turned away indignantly, and she hissed a Wraith phrase in front of her, supposedly a cursing.
"Can you read human writings?" Doctor Beckett inquired, leaving their former topic. "I mean, if you can speak our language, hopefully you can read it as well. I'm just asking, because if you were able to read, I could give you some books to read, and then the time of your recovery would not be that boring," he explained. She did not say a word.
"Alright," he sighed. "I really have to go now. Have a nice rest."
Claire made a hateful grimace, as he left.