Long years in the fields of discipline did not exempt anyone from succumbing to the common habit of twiddling a pen between one's fingers while staring off into space. Every few moves, the back end of the pen rapped sharply against the shiny desk surface, and for the better part of an hour, the little routine carried on. Eventually the pen was given a rest as it fell limp in the commander's hand.

Try as he might, his eyes would not remain open. His black rimmed glasses managed to slide down the bridge of his nose a little as the drowsy atmosphere tugged him into a dream, his senses fully asleep with a relief such as one experiences when brushed by a long-awaited summer's breeze. All of his concentration had been demanded in the last twenty-four hours as AR-6 continued to be missing in action and the decision to move the city to a new location was still being debated. Deep within the recesses of his mind, he had reached a memory lane.

Richard Woolsey did not decide to take a stroll down its winding path, he simply found himself there, and naturally did not wonder twice at what awaited him. It may as well have been happening for the very first time. The man glanced down at his tablet calendar; it read three years previous. 2013.

"I can always tell when I am looking into rooms such as these. They aren't so dully furnished as the labs."

Woolsey looked up, not astonished either at finding himself so alert. He felt he had been asleep for a very long time. "Well-rested" was the term Dr. Beckett would use. He leaned on the desk. "For all your time spent in the same hive surroundings eon after eon, I am surprised you are only now expressing some boredom."

"Efficiency before art, some have said."

"I take it you disagree?" Woolsey thought of the haphazard shapes of the corridors that wound their way through the hive interiors like so many ant trails.

The towering wraith framed in the office entrance looked a little out of place, as it was still rare for him to be seen wandering freely through the city. Only one armed escort accompanied Todd; after so much time spent with the wraith without incident, and owing to recent developments, even the commander had grown used to the alien presence without fear.

Woolsey nodded once. "This isn't a booby trap. You may come in."

"Of course it's not, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting there waiting to die."

Woolsey smirked a little.

With three slow steps, Todd was inside the office. He stood silently, his arms down at his sides, his yellow-green eyes somehow taking in everything around him in while remaining focused on Woolsey. "We are making extraordinary headway with the retrovirus. But Dr. Keller and Dr. Beckett need rest."

"I should imagine they do," Woolsey said, thinking again of Keller's bravery in allowing herself to be fed upon daily, and Beckett reviving her fully after she had been restored by the wraith. The science and medical teams had engineered a way to prevent Keller from becoming addicted to the enzymes, but the process to that goal had been long and tedious, taking nearly three months of research, trial, and error. And Keller could not handle more than so many doses at a time.

Colonel Sheppard and Teyla had long ceased to witness all the procedures that required Keller to undergo treatment, but Ronan was a frequent visitor to the observation deck above. With McKay still in wraith custody, Ronan had taken it upon himself to watch over Jennifer. It was a tense time for everyone, but Todd had proven himself so thoroughly trustworthy during the enormous project that Ronan's routine threats were becoming a mite weak. Woolsey had ordered the former runner to give Todd no reason to suspect that he might be shot to death around every corner he turned; the retrovirus was far too important, and they needed everyone's concentration to be up to par; not to mention, they didn't need another Attero-style blowup.

"I am being as gentle as I can possibly be with our test subject," Todd hinted as if he could read Woolsey's thoughts. "And I do not agree to more than a certain number of feeding tests in a span of twenty-four hours. Ritha did not approve of Keller's continued obstinacy in hurrying through the final stages of our newest experiments and Dr. Beckett was insistent that I too, should rest. I fail to see the reason. We have halted our work for a time."

Woolsey nodded. "I have already begun establishing the Beacons within our Lantean territories."

The blue finger-guard on Todd's feeding hand glinted a little.

Woolsey leaned back, the shadow of the wraith cast upon him making everything feel ten degrees colder. "Would you care to have a seat?" He gestured politely, feeling that familiar, odd sensation in his throat; it would take time before Woolsey in particular could be at peace with the memory of the wraith threatening to feed upon him after the Attero incident. He could still feel those fingertips brushing his chest.

The wraith had selected one of the armchairs and elegantly seated himself. "How very…kind of you."

Woolsey took a long, slow breath. "How long until you go off-world?"

"I can manage for another couple of days. Your science teams are grateful I can feed upon live animals for the time being."

"Yes, well. They worked hard for that."

"It is not ideal. But it will do. For now."

"Why not forever?" Woolsey said.

"That is what the retrovirus is supposed to remedy." The sarcastic exchange was unnecessary, but it was a common method of communication. The wraith's long white hair drifted a little to the side as he inclined his head. "Forgive me for saying so, but you appear…unsettled. That is not something you can admit to yourself any more than you would dare admit it to those who know you."

Woolsey leaned forward. "Why should I be concerned? And I am not afraid to admit things from time to time," he said stiffly.

"You cannot let go of the past."

The bald man felt a chill running up his spine.

"We all make mistakes," Todd hinted.

Woolsey looked him in the eye and smiled grimly. "That is a very unlike you. But…well, I can see how that would benefit you at the moment, so perhaps I should say, that is very like you. It so happens that I have no desire for revenge. I can announce without any fear that I stood up to a wraith and lived to fight another day. What a constant consolation it is."

Todd cocked an eyebrow, a slight amusement playing about his lips. "So you feel that you have gained an advantage."

"I certainly believe that. Yes."

Todd relaxed in his chair as if it were a throne, his expression a mixture of amusement and placidity. He seemed about to say something.

"I did have something to ask you," Woolsey said, suddenly remembering why he'd called Todd here.

The wraith looked a little more interested.

"Can you possibly…" Woolsey stopped and thought a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Your race…your culture…well…I'm guessing you must have amassed a great deal of lore. Fictional or truth, I don't know. Some of each, I should imagine." Woolsey straightened his glasses. "Or neither. I might be wrong."

"Do you think we are any less capable of preserving details of our past than you are of yours?" Todd said drily.

"Oh, no. Of course not," Woolsey said. Drat it, why did the wraith always make him fumble his vocabulary skills? He picked up a pen and turning it slowly over and over in his fingers. "Perhaps there is something more you can tell me about this Queen Death, as she ravages our planets and continues to fly your very own hives about like lost, drunken bumblebees."

"Hasn't John Sheppard apprised you of all I gave him to consider?" Todd said.

"He mentioned the general aspects yesterday. But he could not recite all of the…um…prose. He couldn't quite recall all the…" Woolsey gestured. "Words."

"H-h-h-h-h," Todd laughed ever so softly. "Your race has an uncommon ailment known as a lack of short-term memory. And Sheppard has a habit of not paying as much attention to details as he ought to."

"He absolutely pays attention to details, you two are just never in the same boat. As for the former statement, it depends on the individual; generally we do not memorize things overnight; our minds require repetition of content in order for our brains to keep it around for a…period of time," Woolsey said, knowing full well he did not need to explain such a thing.

Todd slowly and elegantly placed his arms on the armrests, and leaned back, light glimmering a little on his chest armor. "So, the Five Myths of Death is your particular interest."

"Yes," Woolsey said. "Have you any objection to letting me hear them as well?"

"None whatsoever," Todd said quietly. "I told John Sheppard of the Five Myths because of his curiosity regarding the actual Queen Death that has at last arisen among us and because he said that if I refused to tell him the lore he might make my stay in Atlantis a little less pleasant. He also threatened to refuse me more of Dr. McKay's wine at briefings." Todd grinned a little. "I was only toying with him via suspense."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"It is of course rare for a human to ask about information that we wraith speak only within our minds. The Five Myths have hardly been revealed to your race, Commander Woolsey. But each race within this galaxy has its own particular…version." Todd breathed out gently. "Somehow, all know of this Death. But not the death that in the end comes…to us all."

"As you say, wraith are never ending. They are virtually incapable of dying since they can recover even from mortal wounds, given the chance."

"Indeed," Todd said.

"The Iratus is not your only heritage," Woolsey said daringly.

Todd lifted his chin a little. "I do not deny that."

Woolsey leaned on the desk a little more with huddled shoulders. The pen never ceased its movements in his hands. "Um. Yes. Well. I just…meant…"

"There is no need to enlighten me," Todd said, his multi-toned voice deeper than ever.

A long silence ensued. Woolsey's heart skipped a few beats but he maintained a stoic gaze.

Todd's lips parted a little. "As you know, among the wraith, from the greatest to the least, rumors of an ancient Primary, a queen to rule all queens, have lasted the ages." His deep voice seemed to command the very air to a halt. "It was said that anyone who stands in her presence even for an instant cannot resist her mind. None who have laid eyes upon her are believed to have survived. However…she was always a myth. Elusive. A shadow of old that haunts every being in this galaxy whether or not they are aware of it. And her name…is Death."

Woolsey cleared his throat. "And," he ventured, "how is it that she has shown up only now? I have nothing to criticize of course but I'd like to ask…how did you not see this coming?"

"What I am about to tell you was like a child's tale, nothing more, as most of the wraith of the most recent centuries believed. Those that lived before me understood it to have meaning. It was a silent subject of great contention, none who truly believed it wished to see it come to light. Think of it as lying dormant for eons in the subconscious memory we all share. The greatest queens passed it on from generation to generation until it is likely greatly altered from its original form, and until, as you see, Death has shown her face to all, only to learn that she is underestimating…her own food supply."

"The irony is fascinating."

Todd continued to stare, the vertical pupils of his eyes appearing to grow darker, sharper, more distant. A thousand fairytales swam in their depths, and the lights of the old and the new clashed as his insectoid stare mesmerized the commander. "I now recite for you the Five Myths of Death, in the best translation from the Ancient derivative into your own tongue that I can manage." Todd's fingers moved a little, like the limbs of a waiting spider. "Bear in mind that not all…is as it seems."

Woolsey nodded, his heart leaping as though he were about to hear something extraordinary, while he could not imagine what it might be.

"Beyond the containment of the stars," Todd began, "the ancient stars, she sleeps, never ending, never ending. Sleep, and we live, live, while we sleep; reaper of origins, her creations speak, never ending, never ending; we that search forever, shall never see her; and her name is Death.

Beyond the waters bound by the rings, where the elder tongue is altered, thirst is their life;
our youth is the age of those that move outside our bounds; beautiful beyond the stars is the face of she that claims all thoughts: and her name is Death.

Fire, her food, mist is her path; feast, feast, tearing the hand, feast, feast, constant exchange, feast, feast; blood of the sting that sowed and built is asleep upon the throne of thrones, and her name is Death.

The knives and the scattering join forces; look with new eyes; never ending, never ending, cut the hand asunder; never ending, never ending, seek forever above all those that bear the signs of ruler, worshiper, keeper; sought forever, unknown are they who might find her, for she holds our beings; and her name is Death."

Todd's eyes were fully closed now and his teeth slightly bared as he continued into the final stanza. "The eyes of the spheres are staring, never ending, never ending, three are her jaws, ten are the movers; her leaders divide, shattered, the last; let it bleed; as it follows, let it lead. Feed upon the heart, never ending, never ending. When it opens, you shall find her. And her name is Death."

It was as though the memory of the first wraith was holding Todd captive and bound by the chains of the Iratus and yet he was very, very much alive and free. The silence that swept Woolsey's office that day was unforgettable. The recital of the Five Myths was indeed the most extraordinary delivery of a poetic collection of phrases Woolsey had ever heard, and as the words faded out in his mind, he blinked, finding no words to express his inward reactions.

Todd slowly opened his eyes, his teeth still showing.

Woolsey compressed his lips in acknowledgement.

"Did you hear what you were looking for?"

Woolsey cleared his throat. "My curiosity has grown of course. There is something about the Myths that might provide a clue as to how to combat and defeat this Primary."

"Hm. It is possible. You are welcome to put your own suppositions to the test."

Woolsey let slide the fact that Todd was being secretive again. "Very well, I have a favor to ask. Can you give me the Five Myths in writing? I believe they can be of service to us. Perhaps now. Or perhaps in the future. I'd like a record."

"As you wish."

"I realize it might be a bit…unusual…to reveal them to us; not to mention, permanently," Woolsey said.

"There is no dishonor in my sharing the Myths, commander," said Todd, standing up slowly. "Some of the history a wraith holds close to his or her mind is indeed of great…value, if you get my drift. You are correct. Secrets such as these are not so easily brought up. But I make an exception for you and your subordinates. Obviously I do not want to see Queen Death succeed, any more than you do. Given the chance, she will destroy us all. And since she has revealed herself at last, why should the Myths go unchallenged?"

Woolsey nodded. "If she was a concern from the very first dawning of the wraith, there must be an important reason, one that we must discover at some point."

"There is still much about the wraith…you do not know."

Woolsey didn't even twitch. "Why am I not surprised."

"You are not incapable of seeing what you do not yet know. You are also more like wraith than I expected. Of course Sheppard has implied that such an observation on my part isn't something any of you would consider worthy of yourselves." Todd looked down proudly.

"Well. Because we're working towards harmony; as our races have the chance to understand each other better than we did in the past, and since mere words don't really burden me the instant I don't happen to like them, I do not consider myself offended," Woolsey said, wondering just how to take the fact that he was being compared to wraith in some way. "While one race has been the sustainer, and the other sustained, we would like there to be a road that will allow both to survive since the wraith don't seem to be on their way to ending anyhow."

"I originally deemed this project a hopeless cause. But you might succeed…where we could not."

Woolsey had never known Todd to admit this much. He figured it would never happen with Sheppard around. "Yes. Well. You succeeded in warning us of the most terrible threat the Pegasus Galaxy has ever known."

Todd slowly lifted his right hand, turned it over, and looked at the feeding slit. He spread his fingers and arched them so his hand resembled a claw. "I have told John Sheppard this once before. And now, I tell you the same thing. If our plan works…I shall consider myself…honored to have been a part of it." His fingers closed slowly over the reddish slit that rested within his pale hand. "Each, in our own way…we benefit."

Woolsey merely sat there, staring upward at Todd, and trying not to imagine enzyme rushing down the arm of the wraith like saliva fluid. "You speak of honor. I can say the same."

The wraith slowly turned his head to observe a piece of artwork that hung framed upon the wall to Woolsey's left. He approached it, and leaned forward. The Leonid Khomich painting of Venetian dining was brightly colored, yet soft in its details.

Woolsey smirked at the sharp contrast between the tall alien with his wild mane of hair and the dignified human figures in the image before him. The Italian heritage of the Atlantean commander was mostly known to McKay, who was well versed on food in general and could appreciate it even though his general diet on earth had not been all that commendable.

"Hm-hm-hm-hm," Todd laughed softly in his throat. "Ahhhh." He slowly turned back to Woolsey.

"Art before efficiency?" Woolsey said, refraining from mentioning "civil society." "Or are you amused by the fact that people are eating…non-sentient food?"

Todd looked sideways with a bit of a smile. "Mm."

Woolsey thought of cannibalism and shook his head. Todd would have given Sheppard and McKay a run for their money if he could have explored Earth. Naturally, a tour had not been possible because no alien presence could be allowed in sight of earthlings in general, nor within reach of the IOA, not to mention Todd needed to feed and would have been salivating about the population every two seconds. Woolsey wondered if hugely fat people would be a massive source of energy, and was immediately grossed out by his own idea.

"Hhhhh," breathed the wraith softly as he started to turn away, his mane of hair hanging around his greenish features. He paused. "Do you require any further data before I return to the labs? The doctors may rest, but I have no intention of doing so."

"This will be all for now. Thank you for your time."

"We should have another update very soon. Dr. Beckett believed that the anomalies that caused the failure of the first virus can be severed one by one. And it is working. Ritha has revised one of the codes. We are slowly repurposing the effects. And I will write for you the Myths for whatever purpose you desire and whatever meanings you might glean from them, if you are clever enough to manage it. You might surprise me." Todd smirked a little.

"I look forward to any and all reports," Woolsey said.

Todd turned and walked out the door, long robes swaying gently. He was followed once again by the waiting, armed escort.

Richard Woolsey's eyes suddenly flew open to gaze upon the very same entrance. The calendar date on his still lit tablet read 2016.

The lighting was different than it had been in his dream-memory, but the view was slightly hazy. Woolsey dazedly groped at his face and found the crooked glasses that threatened to fall to the floor. How long had he been dozing? He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. What in the world had caused him to experience such a vivid dream? The Five Myths sang their haunting lyrics once again. But why now? And not before?

In Sheppard's case, it had somehow been different; he had really been too interested in "getting to the point" to properly listen to every aspect of the Myths. Woolsey could visualize Sheppard's expression of sarcastic endurance while Todd purposely took twice as long to recite the Myths as he needed to, just to vex the colonel. One would have thought the slowness of the recital would have allowed Sheppard to recall more details.

Woolsey shuddered a little. He slowly reached into his desk for a key and used it to open a drawer safe. The Five Myths were contained in both Taur'i Based Wraith and Taur'I dialect within a data chip, and he had not looked at them for nearly two and a half years. His hand paused over the data case. The dream had been so realistic, why had it only shown up now? Dr. McKay had been out of commission until the last minute back in 2013 because he had been temporarily transformed into a hybrid under the control of Queen Death. And for some reason Woolsey had never shared the Myths with the physicist after Teyla's victory over the old Primary.

With a new threat arising, could there be something for McKay to decipher? Woolsey pondered again the fact that he had let the memory of the Myths slide to a back burner. It must have been due to Queen Death being long gone. Surely her story was fulfilled and over, once and for all. Everyone had tried to forget her influence, especially after what McKay had suffered. Woolsey pressed a comm switch. "Dr. McKay."

"Here and accounted for."

"I hope you're not overworked, you need to be ready to relieve AR-9 tomorrow. They'll be back in a few hours."

"Don't tell me you're watching the cams."

"Intuition."

"Well I'm almost finished assessing this data. Ritha's prolific, it's like a never-ending saga."

"Would you mind stepping into my office a moment? And I want a report on her backups. Whatever you have so far."

"Right, on my way."

While he waited, Woolsey brought up the data on his tablet and reread the myths.

McKay came bustling in. "Hooo, geez, am I about ready to hit the sack," he said, lifting his arms and landing himself in a chair rather heavily. "Zelenka swore he'd beat me at the pizza contest and I thought he was just kidding." He leaned his head back a moment.

"I'm not exactly sympathetic," Woolsey said, glancing at McKay's rather overweight midriff. "I take it you have an update that is longer than Ronan's most recent recording." He held up a small device. "He went through the Stargate and came back again."

"He's just mad because he didn't get to blast anything. This search is getting on my nerves, too." McKay switched on his tablet and dropped it on his lap. "Ok, so…" He pointed his index fingers upward. "Ritha's base is a deep but extremely organized library of information that we can totally put to use, I have no idea why she kept it all a secret except that maybe she wanted to be smarter than everyone else and couldn't prove it. Sheppard's still studying the Red Journal, but he refused to tell me what he found, he's acting all like, "I own this, Rodney, my lips are sealed even if you try slay me in my sleep, I don't share secrets because I'm the universe's greatest gift to mankind."

"You do suffer immensely," Woolsey said unfeelingly. "It's only an assignment."

"I'm more of an expert than he is at reading other people's diaries."

"Tsk tsk." Woolsey shook his head. "What are the odds."

McKay sighed and ran a hand over his receding hairline. "I've jumped into the canyon here, Ritha compiled a…fricken…dictionary on how to speak Wraith with our own tongues, but it sounds like murder. I don't think I could stand to hiss and gasp so much. I just never considered speaking Latinized snake language."

"Neither, to my knowledge, has anyone else. I trust you can learn plenty from it."

"A huge percentage of Ritha's data is stuff I already know, I'll be publishing my own language course. One day. And I'll show it to Todd." McKay smiled a little. "Won't he be surprised. Incidentally, so will John. Payback for not letting me see the journal."

"We all look forward to it," Woolsey said. "In the meantime, speaking of Todd, I'd like you to have a look at this. He typed it out when I asked him to, quite some time ago."

"Since when did the bugman become a writer?" McKay stood up and reached for the tablet.

"The Five Myths of Death," Woolsey said. "It's an ancient tale of the first wraith Primary and her influence over all the Iratus descendants from the dawn of their race. I had Todd recite the phrases to me a few years ago. It was while you were still in captivity. But after Coldamber was eliminated, well, I saw no further use for them and frankly, I kind of…forgot about them until now."

"Yeah, ok, you never told me."

Woolsey tapped his temple.

"The Five Myths?" McKay said, scrolling through the lyrics. "Wait, I think John was trying to tell me about them at some point, but after Coldamber died…he said it wasn't easy to remember and he didn't want to try. I couldn't have cared less. Todd's always acting like the mystery man. Wraith. Fancies himself a bit of a poet I see." McKay shut his eyes for a moment. "Why do I feel like I've said that before?"

"The free verse format was already…established," Woolsey said. "It's the best translation he could devise."

"Interesting," McKay said. "This might be something like a historical summary, long story short. Loads of phrases that literally make no sense, lyrics about jaws and tragedy…sounds like the wraith. Yup. I'd say it's legit."

"I'd like you to study it," Woolsey said. "See what you can infer. There might be a clue to what's going on now in addition to its only being about the past. Someone doesn't want the retrovirus to take over, I'm not waiting around any longer for alerts from the Beacons before moving the city, and we need all the help we can get."

"And her name is Death, and her name is Death, yeah I think we get that by now." McKay was already murmuring to himself and scrolling around. He stood up. "I'll let you know." And forgetting to wait for a dismissal, he had wandered out of the office and into the corridor.

Woolsey sat back. McKay was hooked on the Myths, and he'd probably encounter Zelenka's nosy curiosity along the way, which could have its benefits. Sheppard had still not reported in. Perhaps the Red Journal was a lot longer than expected. Or perhaps…a lot more interesting than expected. Woolsey hit the comm switch again. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yeah," came the drowsy response.

"If you're taking a break, I'd like at least one update on that diary."

"It's pretty dull stuff."

Woolsey smiled a little. "Let me guess. You got beaten silly by Ronan in sparring and you can't come to the office right now."

"Yeah, ok I'll come. Geez he's mad. I'm not exactly young anymore."

"I'm sorry," Woolsey said flatly.

"Right. Ok. Sir, I admit it, Ritha's got a heck of a lot of nerve. The woman's not crazy but she may as well be. I don't really feel like showing you everything I discovered."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

"Maybe I'll opt out."

"Right. I can have McKay finish the job."

"Never mind, I'm on my way."

Woolsey let go of the comm and considered what a disaster it would be if he were to sit Ronan down to read the Five Myths right now.

The former runner would very likely react thus: "So? It's boring. And the wraith's probably lying, just trying to impress. They do that."

Sheppard appeared in the doorway a few moments later and held up a data case.

"Colonel. What is so unusual about that journal that you don't want to show me?" Woolsey said.

"Well," Sheppard said, sinking into the very same chair Todd had occupied a few years prior and crossing one leg over the other. "To be honest, it's a lot more than what I could have imagined. She's an expert."

"I hoped we'd hit a jackpot," Woolsey said, standing up and coming around the desk to lean against it. "I fell asleep; been sitting much too long."

"Me too. The former, anyhow."

"How many bruises did you take?" Woolsey said.

"Enough that I don't feel like sitting."

"Ouch. Well, Ronan is extremely concerned about Ritha and the rest of the team."

"Think I don't know that? I miss Ritha too. As much of an eccentric as she is." Sheppard thumbed the data case. "I dunno…she's quite the writer. And she knows something we don't. Well, now we know what that is. I think she would have locked this away forever."

"I won't know what else you found until you tell me," Woolsey said.

"By the way, McKay almost slammed into me out there with his nose buried in a tablet, did he find anything?"

"Yes and no. I sent him to study the Five Myths."

Sheppard fingered his ear a moment. "Gee, I kind of forgot about those. I didn't even bother with them after we smeared Death. What have you done?" He smirked.

"I had forgotten about them."

"I kind of did, just didn't have any reason to give them much thought while I was stationed in the Seventh Rim. Did you notice that there's this trend of forgetting whenever wraith are involved?"

"Mm. I believe there is something else we can learn."

"All I know is that listening to Todd drone them out took forever."

"It was worth every word, and you know it. The Myths may not have served us much before, but they could now."

"Yeah, I'm just not the poetry type; personally, I prefer some solid action."

"Then why don't you live up to it by talking about the one thing Ritha wrote that you don't want me to know?"

"Because it's weird."

Woolsey frowned. "I dare you to try and shock me, I've seen just about everything in this galaxy that can possibly surprise me…well, I'm…always expecting something new…" Woolsey folded his arms. "Try me."

"Ok, fine. So, Ritha's got a thing for Todd…"

There was a long, long silence. Woolsey looked down, and eventually away, trying not to laugh at the colonel's extraordinary facial expression. "Hmmm. Well. Heaven…help us all. My my. That's certainly unique…and…" He looked up. "Do I detect the reason why Ronan clouted you so hard with his staff?"

"I didn't start the fight," Sheppard said, even at forty-plus years old looking strangely like an indignant teen for a split second. "We were just…you know, letting off some steam. We didn't exchange explanations of course, he doesn't know anything about the Red Journal."

"Lucky for both of you. And I guess I can understand your…erm, frustration," Woolsey said, smoothing his hands down the front of his uniform and tugging its hemline straight.

"You took the words out of my mouth, except mine weren't as nice. Ritha thinks our wraith ally is the best thing that ever happened to the universe. And she's written that and repeated it randomly here for the past five years amidst all her professional updates, none of which she had the intention of letting anyone see."

"Naturally. At least we can count on her loyalty," Woolsey said. "If the wraith, or another faction, have taken her because of Todd's work with Atlantis, I'm sure she'll keep quiet."

"Ritha would die before opening up about viral overrides, Todd or no Todd," Sheppard said with a dark scowl. "I'm not so sure what'll happen if they force her to become a worshipper. Personally, I can't see that happening but maybe I'm just being hopeful. Ritha's a brick wall when she wants to be. Depends if they've been punched with the retrovirus yet."

"Considering that she's never even been fed on before, this could be very bad. I really don't know how strong she is."

"Yeah. Heck, well, I'm not worried about Todd at this point."

"He's far too clever to be caught by a resistance," Woolsey said. "Of course, things do happen."

"No, I mean I'm not worried about him being sucked dry for info, he'd never let them have it." Sheppard scratched his head a little. "He should have been the one taken, he worked on the virus with the docs, and he stabbed the hives with it."

"And we would have been left stripped of his assistance? Ritha was on the same team," Woolsey needlessly reminded him. "She knows more than Todd does about the other side of it at this point, and I'm not saying that lightly. She had Beckett on edge with her theories, he still wonders if she may have handled an Iratus bug at one point, although I don't know that she ever had access to any of the creatures nor how she escaped being bitten if she did. You already know Ritha was brilliant, and you and McKay are just finding out more today. Let it settle."

"Maybe we should make Todd go rescue AR-6."

"I'll reconsider that at some point as far as tracking options go," Woolsey said. "He knows the risks. He's got another twelve hours before he reports in again. By the way, Todd really does suspect that the spore-code was being used by a wraith faction to locate former Coldamber sympathizers. There's also something he detected within the communication's underlying signature about a Primary Gate. No coordinates were present."

"Oh, good grief. We still don't know that such a thing exists. But I remember the rumors. And guess what?"

"What?"

Sheppard held up the Red Journal and waved it a little. "She jabbers on for two pages about this so-called Primary Gate."

"For real."

"No. I just made that up." Sheppard winced sarcastically.

Woolsey frowned and sighed. "All right. First things first. Ritha had nothing to do with what you found on the planet."

"How do you know?"

"We finished the background check. She has absolutely no contacts besides Dr. Keller outside the city and she never went to P6L-266 before AR-6 disappeared."

"Told you."

"I never knew Ritha as well as you and your team did," Woolsey excused himself.

"You can usually count on me to get it right," Sheppard said. "I repeat, if they really took her to try and snatch Todd in the end, because technically he's the biggest dang traitor the old wraith factions have ever dealt with, she won't talk. And they'd want Todd to reveal Earth, the location of Atlantis, etc, etc, it's as old as the hills."

Woolsey looked down as he leaned against the desk. "How do we know that's all they want?"

"Well, ok, we'll see what Rodney thinks of the Myths."

"And if we find Ritha," Woolsey added, "she might not be the same Ritha we once knew, and she might not be alive at all after they're finished with her. We may never know what took place once she was captured. But if they have the virus, they won't be able to harm her by feeding on her."

Sheppard just sat there. "We're assuming they don't, otherwise what do they want from that team? Maybe another Michael wasn't such a dumb idea after all."

"Ritha was the only one who knew what she did. And Coldamber of the actual myths couldn't possibly be so stupid as to perish without leaving some kind of legacy. I think we've all been trying to avoid saying that out loud."

"Maybe that's why Todd didn't tell us where he was going," Sheppard persisted.

"He'll talk. He had to be sure of his theories."

"I can't see why he'll refuse," Sheppard said. "You know what, I never knew he could actually be nervous and show it. Makes me feel a whole lot better. Or…not."

"I don't know if he knew the Myths' meanings quite as well as we would expect."

Sheppard sighed.

"Then there's still the Blood Prophecy to consider." Woolsey took off his glasses and began to polish them.

"I don't really believe in that stuff the way Rodney does. The only thing that's possible is there is some kind of plan contained in the mystical and kung-foo-ey phrases."

"The Ancestors knew what could happen the day the Fifth Race came into power. They still underestimated a great deal. Last I checked, Teyla was working on that line, "Death's keeper restores life's reapers."

"She thinks it's malarkey."

"Nice try, Colonel. She informed me the whole stanza sounds like talk about the most ancient of Iratus fears, fears of a demise in a different manner other than Death."

"Guess she got here before me."

"Todd already mentioned that he has no idea what the Blood Prophecy means, he never saw it nor heard of it before. Neither have his crew members. The one you nicknamed…Pete, was it? At first, he um, thought we made it up."

"I guess I believe his superior after all the charitable things he's done for Atlantis and the galaxy in general."

Woolsey put his glasses back on. "We'll talk more about it later and you'll have the opportunity to ask Todd yourself, soon enough. Get some rest before your team relieves AR-9."

"Works for me." Still scowling, Sheppard stood up and held out the data case. "I finished reading it, you should too. It's pretty interesting. Keep it in a safe place, will you?"

Woolsey took the Red Journal with a small smirk. "I…won't show McKay," he murmured.

"Promise?"

"Colonel…it's not exactly a disaster."

"Yeah well…it's just weird, ok?"

"It sounds rather epic," Woolsey said unsympathetically, just to further enjoy Sheppard's comical facial expression.

"Don't lie, that vice never did suit you."

Woolsey smirked like a father looking down at his little boy.

Sheppard gave up. "You know the only interesting thing about it is, we're working towards harmony. And if the Blood Prophecy is actually about Ritha I guess won't be surprised. Wild notion? Be crazy if it was about Todd, and then…about Atlantis."

"Very perceptive," Woolsey said. "All of that…may have crossed my mind…a bit." He turned and placed the Red Journal on his desk.

"Yeah. Same."

"I thought you said you didn't believe in "that sort of thing," Woolsey said.

"Well to be honest, maybe I don't believe it so much when Rodney's acting like he's Elijah back from the dead."

"I see. Well. Twelve hours," Woolsey said. "Then we can give Todd our suspicions about the Gate."

"Believe me, I won't forget." Sheppard glanced back once before he left. And all the way down the main corridor, the words of the Blood Prophecy, as McKay had titled the Red Runes so long ago, sang mercilessly in Sheppard's ears.

"Never ending, never ending are they
Blood is within the palms of their hands
Age is their youth, youth is their age.
The harvest has the light to starve its sower;
The cores of power are sealed against the triple jaws
One among the seedling race awakens an ancient death
Of the reapers, one awakens an ancient life.
One among the fifth race is harmony
One gifted among the kin holds the melody
Death's keeper restores life's reapers.
Life's reaper shall kill death's keepers."