ACT 2 – TRUTH
Chapter 39 – The Invitation
Rodney sat back in his chair and huffed out a long breath.
This just wasn't working.
Janus' question wasn't a riddle like the ones Jackson and the others had been working on, but finding the answer to the advanced physics principle was starting to feel beyond even his capabilities.
He and Carter had worked on it for hours, with the Elite's top scientist, Silvar, and various others from the city having dropped by Janus' Lab, including Radek, to "have a go". News had clearly gotten round that there was a complex and impenetrable problem to solve, but no one had gotten even close to the answer.
Not that Rodney even knew the general ballpark the answer was going to be in. But at least no one else had been able to solve it, which gave him some confidence that he wasn't losing his genius.
He looked from the latest calculations and simulations running on his two laptops and considered anew the large whiteboard stood to his right. Though, calling it a 'white' board seemed inaccurate now given the masses of calculations, diagrams, and scribbles all over it. Even the smallest areas of leftover space had been filled.
And this was the third time they'd filled the board.
Subspace trajectories…it sounded so innocent, but the proof required to answer Janus' question felt frustratingly distant.
He ran his eyes over the different areas of the board, recalling the discussions around each idea, the paths of logic they'd followed in the brainstorming sessions…but, none of it had worked.
If he was back home and had a grant and an entire career to dedicate on this problem, then he'd solve it, but after just a single day of trying…
At least no one else had been able to solve it.
He clung to that small selfish fact so he didn't feel quite so rubbish at failing so miserably at it.
It was a rare day that even Carter had looked exasperated with a problem, and he suspected, that if she weren't in charge of running Atlantis, that she'd still be here now trying to solve it with him.
He frowned grumpily at the board. The logic of most of it seemed right, felt on the right track, but it also felt like there was something really big missing. Probably some factors about subspace that they were missing…or possibly an entire area of physics that the Ancients had understood, but about which they had no clue.
The disturbing truth, which he wasn't about to admit out loud, was that this was possibly beyond their current understanding.
He missed the days when just one all-nighter could solve the latest science puzzle or alien tech issue. But Janus' complex array of encryptions, ciphers, and riddles was just taking days…and probably would take months to crack all of it.
Maybe even years.
He felt like he'd completely lost track of how many days he'd been working in here, basically now living in Janus' Lab alongside Jackson.
Sure they'd solved some of Janus' brainteasers, but usually they had just lead to more complicated puzzles underneath. The few they'd entirely broken through had been few and far between, and only Jackson's last success had yielded anything useful. Even that hadn't contained the full Skerti and their tech 101 that they'd all been hoping for.
Rodney switched his attention away from the whiteboard to where Jackson and Skan were sat at the other console to his left. Skan had stayed overnight yesterday because of a crisis in the Alliance preventing him from gating home, but it seemed that he'd decided to stay on here tonight as well. If it was night?
Rodney lifted his arm and peered at his watch. It was 20:30, so evening then.
He'd known it was 'late' given that the rest of the team were gone from the lab, leaving just him, Jackson, and Skan in here, but he'd thought it was later. Like middle of the night 'later'.
His eyes certainly felt tired and dry as he watched Jackson and Skan frowning up at their current Janus puzzle; of the three linked Ancient-themed puzzle questions, the first had been the one that had concealed the basic Skerti information on how the Ancients had met the creatures and how it had, unsurprisingly, all gone horribly wrong. The hope was that the other two linked sections would hold further, and more useful, Skerti information. But, so far, Jackson hadn't had any luck, even with Skan and others helping him.
Rodney wasn't surprised. The question they were trying to answer was another one of those stupidly broad Janus questions that could mean anything. It simply asked for the Ancients' "most significant achievement", if Jackson's translation was accurate.
Which it probably was.
But translating the question had been far easier than working out it's answer. Jackson had already tried all the obvious guesses, such as the Gate system, wormhole creation, intergalactic travel, hyperspace engines, ZPMs, ascension and more. None of them had worked, and clearly Jackson was running out of ideas. The Archaeologist was currently slumped back in his chair looking as tired as Rodney felt, whereas the Elite surfer dude Skan looked more alert, though still far from full of enthusiasm.
They were all struggling, which made Rodney feel a little better about his own failures.
Not being able to solve what had been simple to Janus.
Not being able to make the last minute breakthrough he was normally famous for.
And having failed at being a decent boyfriend and husband material.
He consulted his watch again; he'd gone maybe two hours there without thinking about Katie.
That was some progress at least.
Given how useless he was feeling right now, it was something.
He turned back to the overly crammed whiteboard. He and Carter had thought they'd been onto something when they'd tried incorporating power requirements into any subspace travel, so had tried including the Ancient's complex ZPM power generation calculation principles. It hadn't worked though and he and Carter had had to move on to another idea.
Which had also failed.
His eyes were feeling sore again, so he squeezed them tightly shut and rubbed his fingers over his eyelids.
Maybe he should take an evening off as Sheppard had suggested earlier. The brain didn't work as effectively on prolonged lack of sleep…
He opened his eyes and frowned at the whiteboard one last time and turned away from it.
Sheppard hadn't visited the lab as much today, no doubt distracted with military talk on how to use the limited Skerti info they had already found. But, Sheppard had dropped by this afternoon to check in on them and bring the latest box of donuts and list of guesses for Janus' other overly broad, and probably completely uncrackable, question: his Mum's favourite recipe. Surely no one could solve that but Janus himself! Still, everyone in the city continued to obsessively suggest any recipe they could think of and each day Sheppard gathered up the guesses – and bets – and came in to tap them into the console.
But Sheppard hadn't had time to try entering today's list, the piece of paper still lying on the side of Rodney's console.
Rodney reached out and picked up the piece of paper, noticing that it had been written on the back of a printout. He turned it over to see a diagram of what looked like DNA, so it was probably from Carson's taskforce team. Who was still using printers down in that lab?! Luddites.
Still, the list was something different to do, so he turned the paper back over and looked down through Sheppard's handwritten short list of people's guesses.
Adjusting one laptop closer to him on the edge of the console, Rodney called up the English-to-Ancient translation programme and typed in the first guess on the list: Vegetable Curry.
People were getting less specific about the recipes at least now. Honestly, why people thought that a precisely named Earth recipe would be an Ancient's favourite recipe….
The programme's best guess translation appeared on the laptop's screen, so Rodney sat forward enough to reach the Ancient console's crystal keys and called up the part of Janus' database that held the recipe question. He typed in the vegetable curry answer, suspecting he knew what the result would be. Who knew if the Ancients had even had anything like curry leaves…
The rejection flashed up. Surprise, surprise.
To the left, Jackson let out a long yawn that sounded as frustrated as it did tired. "I mean, maybe we're being too focused on technological advances here," Jackson considered.
Next on Sheppard's list was Baked Potato. Someone was being more sensible with their guesses, so Rodney typed that into the translation system.
"We have tried terms the Ancestors used in relation to their own evolution and ascension," Skan replied to Jackson.
"I know, but I was thinking maybe something less advanced," Jackson uttered.
Rodney typed in the baked potato translation. Katie loved baked potatoes, especially with bolognaise sauce poured over them.
The screen flashed that the baked potato wasn't right.
Just to try, Rodney typed in just the translation for 'potato', but it was instantly rejected.
Which was an all too perfect summary of his last few days…and his proposal to Katie.
"…term achievement implies some breakthrough that one would associate with technology," Skan was saying off to the left.
"Or a thought process," Jackson considered.
"A scientific principle perhaps," Rodney suggested as he typed 'split-pea soup' into the translation programme.
"Maybe," Jackson replied with a sigh. "Or it could be something far more basic. I mean, in terms of Human evolution, it could be argued that our first great achievements were making stone tools and using fire."
"Yeah, try fire," Rodney uttered sarcastically as he typed the soup translation into the console. "See if that works."
The split-pea soup wasn't right.
"I'm sure the Ancients, if we went back far enough, had to have learnt to use fire for the first time too," Jackson tried to argue his point.
Rodney frowned round at him. "Sure, on the grand scale of things, an ancient super-intelligent race who travelled between galaxies, seeded Humans on masses of planets, created wormholes and built flying cities…yeah, I'm sure fire ranked as their greatest achievement."
"They still had to learn to cook their food," Jackson muttered.
"Have you tried typing in the invention of the wheel?" Rodney teased.
Jackson gave him a silent glare and looked away to Skan. "I was thinking more along the lines of intellectual advancements, philosophy or, who knows, maybe just fostering peace…?"
"You're really reaching now," Rodney added as he consulted the next recipe on Sheppard's list.
"To the Ancients, moral and philosophical beliefs could be just as important," Jackson argued.
There was one last guess on the list now: apricot pie. Rodney shook his head as he put that through the translation. As if there had been apricots here thousands of years ago…
"Perhaps we should look through Atlantis' database on their philosophical principles, or perhaps their education system," Skan suggested. "If there was an overriding achievement in their minds, they would have stressed that when educating their young, surely?"
"We don't know much about Ancient kids," Rodney supplied as he entered the – who knew if it really translated as apricot - pie guess into the console. "But, could be a good idea," he conceded.
"I'm not sure," Jackson sighed tiredly again. "If Janus wanted everything in here protected, then he wouldn't choose something that any Ancient, even a child, who came in here could guess."
Unsurprisingly, apricot pie hadn't been the right answer, so no winnings would be handed out in the city today.
Rodney looked across at Jackson's console. "You got a pen?" He asked. Jackson was always writing notes on his legal pad…
"Here," Jackson held out a biro.
"Thanks," Rodney took it and drew a long diagonal line through Sheppard's list, wrote "all wrong" on it and held the pen back out towards Jackson. "It's Janus' password protection, so the answer will be Janus' opinion of what was their 'greatest achievement' and how are we supposed to know that?"
"We haven't found anything in his logs as a clue," Jackson sighed wearily as he took the pen back. "But Janus led us here, so we have to be able to work out the answer."
"Maybe he only wanted us to find that first block of information," Rodney suggested as he put Sheppard's list back in its former spot on the console and then slumped back in his chair again.
"I don't believe that," Jackson shook his head. "Janus clearly wants to help us against the Skerti…"
"There is a saying on many worlds in the Alliance," Skan put in. "That the Ancestors' promises were lost when they were."
"I understand your point," Jackson told Skan, "but Janus directing us here was probably a significant risk for him, a careful tightrope to walk against the non-interference rules of the ascended Ancestors, so that had to be for a worthwhile reason. If all he wanted us to find was telling us where the Ancients found the Skerti and the very basics of what happened, I don't see why that would have been so closely guarded by the Ancients."
"Unless all that we need is within that first block of information and we just do not know it yet," Skan considered.
"Maybe, but that there are these three linked protected sections together in his database tells me they're all about the Skerti," Jackson argued, his faith in Janus pretty intense given Jackson had previously been kicked out of Ascension Land.
Either way, it wasn't Rodney's problem. His problem was this stupidly advanced physics question.
He made himself focus on the whiteboard again, tuning out the other two talking their theories.
He ran his eyes from start to finish over the board again, tracking back through the earlier brainstorming, the three different marker colours seeming to merge in front of his eyes.
He snapped open his eyes, definitely having lost some time. He blinked quickly around, but Jackson and Skan were sat in the same positions as before, so he'd probably only fallen asleep for a few seconds there.
Okay, he clearly needed a break. He pushed himself up from his chair and headed across the lab towards where the drink and snack supplies now permanently lived. Their empty dinner trays from the Mess Hall were still here…and there were no leftover snacks.
Rodney frowned at the empty donut box and the plate that had held a whole tall chocolate cake this morning.
He could have done with some sugar, but caffeine would have to do, so he picked up the thermal jug that held the coffee supply…
It was worryingly light.
He pulled off the lid and peered inside. There was nothing, just the smallest pool of coffee at the bottom; well, that decided that then.
Jug in hand, he turned back towards the other two.
"I'm heading to the Mess Hall," he told them. "Get some more coffee and food."
"Great idea," Jackson replied, looking round. "Would you see if they've got any more of that chocolate cake? I only had a thin slice earlier."
"Sure," Rodney agreed, but he suspected that wasn't likely, given how good the cake had been. If there had been another one of those up in the Mess Hall, the vultures would have picked the plate clean long ago.
"If they have any of those glazed donuts…?" Skan put in with a hopeful look.
"No problem," Rodney nodded as he headed towards the exit with the coffeepot, glancing at the whiteboard again as he passed by it.
He'd been so sure that he and Carter had been onto something with incorporating the ZPM formula.
"Actually, Rodney," Jackson called. "Forget the chocolate cake. If they've got any of the egg and cress sandwiches left from earlier…"
"It's not real cress," Rodney pointed out. "It's some Athosian herb."
"I'll have egg and Athosian herb sandwiches then," Jackson amended.
"Okay," Rodney replied impatiently as he continued on towards the 'magic door' out of the Lab. Sheppard's stupid name for it had caught on all too easily.
Just before he stepped through it, Rodney glanced back at the whiteboard again, but no miracle inspiration hit, so he continued on through into the musty hallway outside.
If he was on Earth and the whole Stargate programme was publicly known, just a quarter of the calculations and theory on that whiteboard would win him a Nobel Prize. But instead he was stuck here, being brilliant without recognition, or miserably failing lately.
He'd caught himself more than once fantasising about being back home and using what he knew to develop groundbreaking technology for Earth. If they could work out how the Ancients had made ZPMs, for example, it could transform everything back home. Entire cities could be powered by just a couple of ZPMs, all clean and safe power. He could help end hunger and…
He pulled up in the middle of the hallway.
ZPMs…
The power capacity of just a single ZPM was phenomenal.
They would change everything on Earth…so maybe it had been the same for the Ancients themselves?
He frowned back down the hallway, back towards the hidden entrance into Janus' Lab.
Outside of the gate's DHDs, almost any significantly powerful Ancient tech had been powered by a ZPM, or several for Atlantis…their ships too…it would have changed everything for them…
Though Jackson had already tried putting in ZPMs as a guess for the Ancients' 'greatest achievement'…but, in some ways, it wasn't just the creation of ZPMs that would have been the moment of achievement, it would have been the theory and the development of the calculations to make them possible…
He turned and strode back down the corridor, back towards Sheppard's magic door.
He and Carter had used the full formula for the ZPMs on the whiteboard, but he'd seen the Ancients use a more abbreviated and simplified version of it in their writing in Atlantis' database. A shorthand they'd all used, and he was pretty sure it had been only five or six numbers and symbols. That could fit in the puzzle answer field.
He walked back through into the Lab and headed straight for his console.
"…and if we…Rodney?" Jackson looked round.
Rodney ignored him and headed to where his tablet was sat next to his laptops. He had notes and copies of everything significant he'd found in Atlantis' database over the last few years; he'd have that simplified formula somewhere.
Could it really be that simple? And surely it wouldn't be the best riddle for Janus to use, because, like Jackson had said earlier, any other Ancient surely could easily guess it.
But, it made a lot of sense to Rodney. In some ways, the ZPMs were kind of an advanced technological version of using fire…
He found his notes on the power requirements of Atlantis…yes, here were his oldest notes from his ZPM research into the city's database.
The Ancients simplified formula was there, including several image captures from the database.
He took the two long strides to Jackson's console and pushed in next to Jackson's chair to take over the console.
"You got something?" Jackson asked as he scooted aside to give Rodney space.
"I had a notion," Rodney replied as he entered the simplified formula into the console, which required no translation because it was already in Ancient numbers and mathematical symbols.
The last symbol in, Rodney looked up and the screen cleared…the decryption running.
"You did it, Rodney!" Jackson exclaimed, a hand gripping Rodney's arm. "What was the answer?"
Rodney opened his mouth to reply, but the big Ancient screen shifted and was abruptly filled with Ancient text…but not just text.
Partly in view was a series of diagrams that instantly drew Rodney's attention.
"That word is for the Skerti," Skan stated from the left, one hand stretching through Rodney's peripheral view. "It is more information on them, as you had predicted, Dr Jackson."
Rodney ignored that obvious point, because he was recognising an awful lot of the Ancient words himself now because they were technical terms.
He reached down to the console and scrolled the screen down, bringing more diagrams into view.
They appeared to be depicting wormholes, but he'd not seen the Ancients display them like this, and there was a repeated highlighted phrase above each diagram and in the short pieces of text.
"Subspace internal…?" He frowned, unsure of the translation.
"No," Jackson stood up next to him. "It says an 'Intra-Subspace Network'."
Rodney kept scrolling; diagrams gave way to some more blocks of text, some formulae and then…
A large, detailed schematic.
"The Skerti Drive," Skan instantly identified the image.
Rodney frowned at the mess of numerous labels over the schematic and the circuit diagrams under it.
He reached back towards his console and scooped up his radio, quickly fitting it to his ear and triggered it on.
"Carter this is McKay; if you're not awake, you need to be…"
00000
Seeal woke gradually, aware of only warmth and soft comfort.
It was wonderful.
A few times she was vaguely aware that there might be some things she needed to remember, but they didn't seem all that important right now in the drifting comfy bliss.
But, after awhile, a few things started to solidify. The most obvious was her bladder niggling that she was going to have to visit the bathroom soon, but other facts were also starting to feel more pressing.
Memories of the crashing BreakAway returned, then the stupidly dangerous tunnel exposed to the sky and the vast stretch of barren ground when she'd finally gotten out….
Had she gotten out?
The question clambered forward in her consciousness, claiming her full and immediate attention.
She forced herself to wake up properly, snapping open her heavy eyelids to find darkness around her. A cavern of darkness, enclosed…like the tunnel and that big cavern at the end. If she was still back there…
Except some rationality started to wake up too, and she blinked into more awareness, registering that it was too warm and comfortable to be the tunnel. In fact, it was now clearly her familiar cocoon of warmth and comfort that was her Facility bed and duvet.
It was okay; she really was home.
She was okay.
The tunnels were in the past. She'd gotten out.
She was home safe.
She realised there was some low light entering into her dark cocoon, the glow coming in from a gap in the duvet somewhere above her head. She didn't usually leave a light on…
More memories reasserted themselves as she reached full wakefulness.
Crossing that line of other weary survivors, Oneakka stood high on that ridge of rock…she'd climbed up to him.
Oh no, had she collapsed into his arms?!
She couldn't remember anything very detailed after that until being in the Facility's Healing Bay, the Healer…Oneakka and Massa had turned up...
A faint shift of sound from somewhere beyond her cocoon confirmed the rest.
She reached one hand up through the warmth to push the top edge of the duvet away from her head, allowing in more of the low light as she peered over the top of her bedding.
Oneakka was sat at her table.
In her quarters.
He was sat in profile, one elbow on her table as he read from a pad held up in front of him. The screen's light added to the low glow of the plant's lamplight above and behind him, highlighting him sat in her home.
His other hand came into view…holding a spoon. She frowned down at the table in front of him, spying the side of a Canteen tray. When had that been delivered?
How long had she been asleep?
He was still dressed in the white Healing Bay clothes, but she couldn't see the food he was eating that would tell her what mealtime it was.
Whatever time it was, he had clearly made himself comfortable.
Wasn't he supposed to be here to watch her? Make sure that she didn't die or something? He didn't seem to be paying much attention right now…though, what would she have preferred? To wake up to find him watching her intently? No, that would have been freaky.
It was weird enough seeing him in her quarters, low lit like it was a romantic evening in here or something.
He shifted in his seat, glancing round towards her and then looked away again, only to do a quick doubletake back towards her, finally noticing she was awake.
"Good morning, Raven," he smiled strangely cheerfully.
Too cheerfully for her.
"Is it?" She muttered as she turned her attention to the light controls, reaching her hand further out of her cocoon warmth to turn on the lights.
They blazed on at full brightness, piercing through her eyes and into her brain like spears of intensity.
Spluttering curses, she jabbed at the control again through squinted eyes.
The lights at a more polite morning level, she pushed herself up on one elbow, frowning round again to see that Oneakka had turned on his – her – chair to face her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Okay," she replied as she pushed herself up further till she was sitting on the soft mattress, her warm bedding piled up around her.
She reached up and rubbed her hands over her face. She had the thick, heavy feeling of having slept for a long time, and she abruptly yawned so long and hard that she was surprised she didn't crack her jaw apart.
"No headache or anything?" Oneakka asked.
She ran her hands up over her head, discovering that her hair was a right mess, so she quickly ran her fingers through it all to tidy it up a bit. Not that it mattered if she looked as much of a state as she felt right now. These were her quarters, and she could look as rough as she wanted.
"I'm okay," she told him as she gathered her hair over one shoulder.
"How's the ankle?" He asked next, apparently the lord of questions this morning.
She peered down her bed to the two lumps that were her feet under her duvet…and her Bakhau blanket spread over it. She hadn't done that, had she? She normally just draped the new blanket over the end of her bed to cover her feet, so he must have done that. Which felt strangely thoughtful.
She returned her attention to her feet and wriggled her toes. She could feel the supportive squeeze of the bandage around her right ankle, but there was no stabbing pain, so that was a win.
"It's okay," she concluded with some relief. It had gotten her through all the tunnels, so it was clearly fine.
"Is 'okay' going to be your answer to every question I ask you?" Oneakka asked sarcastically.
She switched her gaze from her covered feet to him looking all comfortable in her space. "Okay," she repeated as she gave him a low level glare.
He smiled back.
She glanced away back to her feet, feeling weirdly warm and unnerved with him in here. "What time is it?" She checked as she rotated her ankle a little more to test it further.
"An hour into First Meal," he answered.
She switched her gaze back to her table and his Canteen tray, "Yes, I noticed that," she said pointedly.
"I got you some First Meal too," he replied, leaning aside enough that she could now see past him where there was a second tray on the table. It held a covered bowl, plate and a tall cup.
Well, that was nice of him.
"Thank you," she said as she started turning herself on the mattress, drawing her legs under the bedding to the side of the bed.
"How are your hands?" The King of Questions started up his routine again.
As she dangled her legs over the side of the bed, she lifted her hands. She didn't remember hurting them. She considered her palms, which looked a little red across her knuckles, but otherwise were okay.
"You had wrapped your hands," Oneakka put in.
"Just as padding," she recalled.
"To help carry Saoka's stretcher perhaps?"
"Pushing it," she lowered her hands and glanced down at her hanging feet. "We found an industrial trolley thing on the BreakAway, strapped him to it and pushed him through the tunnels." She couldn't see any bruising poking out from around the ankle bandage, but the strapping was pretty bulky, swamping her foot.
"Last report in was that Saoka's surgery was a success, and he'll make a full recovery," Oneakka supplied. "After significant rehab of course."
She nodded as she straightened her back and rolled her shoulders. Everything wasn't quite as painful as she'd feared, more the heavy ache after seriously overworking muscles. It was an old familiar ache, well known since her pit fighting days.
Something abruptly nudged against her right knee, and she looked round to see that Oneakka had moved his chair right up alongside her bed, having accidentally bumped against her knee as he sat his big body down.
Why was he sitting so close?
As he settled, he looked up at her with an expression she hadn't seen on him before. "Do you remember all of yesterday?" He asked in what seemed to be a very carefully chosen tone. The kind of tone you used when you had bad or delicate news to deliver to someone.
"You mean riding a crashing space station falling out of orbit, then being attacked by Wraith?" She summarised her last day. "Yes, strangely enough, I do happen to remember all of that."
"I meant once you were back here in the Facility," he clarified, though it didn't clear up much for her.
He had used that same strangely careful gentle tone again.
Since when was Oneakka careful about anything he said?!
What was he referring to that required him to be so careful?
Had she done something stupid? Or said something she shouldn't?
That was a sudden alarming thought.
"About your genetic test results," Oneakka prompted.
"Oh, that," she almost sagged with relief. "Yes, of course I remember."
"I was just checking in case you hadn't remembered it all. You were so exhausted yesterday that you were a little out of it."
Her bed was set higher than his chair, so she was looking down at him, which wasn't an angle she was used to looking at him from, and it made his eyes seem strangely big as he looked up at her.
She remembered being absolutely exhausted yesterday evening, but not to the point that she would forget such significant news. Unless, she'd been a bit more loopy than she remembered…?
"I didn't say anything unusual, did I?" She found herself asking him without thinking.
His eyes seemed to grow even larger as he angled his head up at her. "Like what?" He asked with far too much curious interest.
Damn it.
"Nothing," she glanced away, pretending to be adjusting the corner of her duvet that was lying partly over her lap. "Just you seemed to think I was 'so out of it', I just wondered."
Wraith crap, she suddenly noticed anew that she was wearing his old shirt. And he'd only gone and damn well noticed yesterday.
Annoying observant oaf.
She resisted the sudden urge to cover more of herself with the duvet.
It was her top now so she could wear it whenever she wanted.
She forced herself to look back at Oneakka, holding his gaze, strong and steady.
"It was pretty big news to hear, Raven," he said though, that gentle cautious tone back in play again.
"I know," she replied nodding. "Doesn't really change anything though," she shrugged one shoulder dismissively.
He frowned up at her, shifting the intricate spiral of tattoos on the right side of his forehead. "Of course it changes things," he argued, but still in that unusual carefully balanced voice.
It was so different to the last tones he'd used in their fight before she'd left for Saoka's station that it felt rather jarring now.
"You're part-Athosian," he continued. "Your father was only half-Glisi."
She glanced away and realised that she had started hugging the duvet to her without noticing. "It doesn't change anything that happened in the past."
"No, but it explains things; adds to your identity."
She frowned at him. "I don't understand how I could be so much smaller than Father if he was half-Athosian and I'm only a quarter."
"Maybe the report the Healers sent you might explain some things," Oneakka suggested. "While you were sleeping, I did some reading on the latest genetic research into what determines our height and size." He'd been reading up on it for her? "It's still not fully understood, but they think hundreds, if not thousands of different parts of our genetic code combine to create our size. Maybe it was just random fluke that you exhibit more Athosian size traits."
That maybe made some sense. "But Ulfur was normal Glisi size," she frowned though. "I think."
"He grew up off-world," Oneakka voiced what played through her mind. "Though he was giant compared to everyone else, we can't be sure of his size compared to other Glisi. Though I found this." Oneakka reached back to her table. His long arm easily reaching across the small space of her home to pick up his pad from beside the Canteen tray.
He tapped on the pad's screen and then held it out to her. "These are images taken from the few past interactions the Elite have had with the Glisi."
She lifted the pad to find several images displayed, moments captured in a Glisi camp. She instantly recognised the old familiar shape of the tent roofs, the massive tree trunks in the background, and the thick depth of snow over the ground. In the uppermost image, a male Elite Warrior was stood with two male Glisi in the foreground. From the Glisi' medium layered pelts she could tell that it had been late spring season when the photo had been taken, and the closest Glisi had symbols of leadership branded into the pelts over his shoulder. Only fully mature Glisi were part of the leadership groups, so the Glisi male was presumably a good example of their full height.
He was at least three feet taller than the Elite Warrior, who was wearing a sword against the thick cloaks over his back. There was also part of a tent rope and a cart near him, adding more context of his height. She ran her eyes over the two Glisi and then down to two other images that showed other Glisi going about their usual camp business. Several were female and looked barely shorter than the males, and there were two more Elite in view, giving more indications of height.
"The images are all ten years old," Oneakka added.
"They aren't from my camp," she concluded with some relief, "but assuming all fully grown male Glisi are roughly the same size, I think Ulfur is close to their height, but probably a bit shorter."
But not just in height. The Glisi in the images looked somewhat broader across the shoulders and chest than she recalled of Ulfur.
Which meant that maybe he too wasn't actually 'normal' either, despite how he had seemed when they were younger.
She handed the pad back to Oneakka and struggled against the conflicting feelings it all provoked. Seeing Glisi again even just in picture form was weird, bringing back very bad memories, but to think that Ulfur…
"Yes, I concluded the same," Oneakka agreed with her assessment, which didn't help the depressed feelings.
Which meant that all her work to make her deals with Robiah, and then the Elite, to get Ulfur back home might have been for nothing. If Ulfur had been able to find their old camp and tried to return to their people, the Glisi might have rejected him. Ostracised him again for being 'cursed' like her.
"Not that we know what might have happened to Glisi culture in the over two decades since you and Ulfur escaped," Oneakka added. "They may have changed their views towards differences in size and ideas of curses."
"Yeah, because they were such tolerant, thoughtful people," she muttered sarcastically.
"Or maybe Ulfur is close enough to their size that it won't matter," Oneakka pressed, now clearly just trying to make her feel better.
Which felt oddly annoying.
She frowned at him. "Unless, as you pointed out yesterday evening, the Glisi had also thought Father was cursed too. Then they might see Ulfur as another one of his cursed children who didn't grow to full usual Glisi size."
And maybe they might even have done to Ulfur what they'd done to Father.
Left his body in the blood-stained snow…
"We don't know. Ulfur might be close enough, or maybe argue that living off-world stunted his growth or something," Oneakka argued, really seeming to want to play the role of advocate this morning.
"He'll still be the cursed child's brother," she felt compelled to argue the other side.
"Everyone knows siblings can be very different," Oneakka shrugged. "One of my brothers had black hair and brown eyes."
The sudden volunteered information about one of his lost family was almost as shocking as the fact that he'd delivered it with a faint smile.
And the fact that it had been to argue a point to make her feel better.
She must really look awful this morning if he felt she needed that much support.
Not that he was wrong.
She considered him and his blue eyes and medium-brown mohawk hair. "Did he have your skin tone?" She asked, trying to picture a brother of his with black hair and the same pale complexion.
"Pretty much," Oneakka confirmed. "He'd be shorter than me too. We probably wouldn't have looked much alike from a distance."
And he would never know, of course. His brown-eyed brother long dead.
"What was his name?" She asked, only to remember a second too late that she wasn't supposed to ask about his lost family. But he had once mentioned a brother's name to her before, Zopi, who had been his next brother up among their nine siblings, so perhaps it was the same one.
"Huan," Oneakka replied though, supplying a new name.
Without thinking to do it, she found herself looking past his shoulder towards her Ugun guardian knife.
She was almost certain it had moved slightly, which suggested he might have looked at it in the night. Good.
She'd tried to give him the guardian knife, after all it had been made by his father, but he'd insisted that it was hers. That Ugun belief said there was a blade spirit in the knife that was there for her and her alone.
The knife had always been a precious thing to her, long before she'd known its true maker, and now it felt even more precious.
Oneakka shifted in his seat, clearly having reached the extent of his comfort on the subject.
"Well," she stated firmly, "either way, if Ulfur has, or does, try to rejoin the Glisi camp and they chase him off again, maybe that will help him. Help him accept things finally," she shrugged. She wasn't overly convinced Ulfur would take any event well, but you never knew.
It wasn't her problem anymore.
In fact, it was all less of her problem than before. It hadn't been her fault, any of it.
She'd known that, because of course you shouldn't treat a child the way the Glisi had treated her, but now…now she knew for certain that it hadn't been her fault. That her size had a logical reason.
That she wasn't to blame for Father's death and Ulfur's banishment.
She supposed that did actually make her feel a bit better.
"As Massa said yesterday," Oneakka said into the quiet, "if you register yourself with Athos, you'll be entitled to Athosian citizenship."
"Even though I'm only a quarter-Athosian?" She asked.
"Of course," Oneakka smiled. "There are a lot of part-Athosians. Athos has had deep trading ties with many worlds long before the Alliance was even conceived of, and they are very welcoming people. Some Athosians have moved to other planets in the past, and some off-worlders moved to the Athosian farming colonies. There is a decent proportion of people on Athos who are not entirely Athosian, especially after the Alliance territory was solidified. Athosian law allows that anyone with an Athosian family member within five generations are allowed to live on Athos, allowed to become Alliance citizens."
"Yeah, and there's a lot of fraud involved in those kinds of petitions to Alliance worlds that allow that kind of thing," she recalled as she shifted her weight forward to the edge of the bed to finally set her feet down on the carpet. "There are whole criminal organisations in and outside the Alliance who specialise on making false family trees for people outside the border to fake their way into Alliance citizenship."
"I know, but your genetic tests – run by Elite scientists – will be more than evidence enough," he replied as he shifted his chair back a little as she pushed herself up onto her feet.
She kept a hand on the mattress as she tested her weight on her ankle. It felt okay. She could feel the tight press of swelling within the bandage, but it was holding her weight, just as it had on the long walk from the BreakAway. She took a step forward, shifting her weight on and off her bad foot to test it further.
"Careful," Oneakka warned.
"It's fine, just sore and tight," she told him, noticing that he had one hand up ready to catch her.
She suddenly remembered that he had had to help her walk from her chair into the bathroom yesterday evening. That was a tad embarrassing, but she was clearly okay on her feet now.
"And those criminal organisations-" Oneakka started.
"I'd already given Division what names and locations I heard on that fraud front," she dismissed his question before he finished asking it.
"Of course. Remember the Healer said to take off the bandage this morning and then only light exercise afterwards," Oneakka reminded her.
She nodded that she remembered.
"And you're supposed to take a full week off-rotation to recover," Oneakka added, the careful tone suddenly transformed into his more usual commanding Elite tone.
She turned and fixed him with a warning glare across the small space. "He said up to a week," she corrected him.
"No, he said a full week would be best," Oneakka argued back from her chair.
"You're getting close to using your Elite tone," she warned him.
Bizarrely, he immediately dropped his gaze. "Sorry, I just meant," he looked back up with his big eyes, "that you need to rest properly. I checked your off-rotation record while you were sleeping."
"Hey," she glared at him. "That's my record."
"It's freely available in the project database," he frowned.
"Still," she frowned back down at him. "No looking at my stuff."
"No looking?" He repeated as he made a show of looking around her quarters at all of her things.
Which didn't take him long given the small size of her quarters, that oddly seemed far smaller with him in here. Despite being sat next to the bed, he somehow still seemed to fill the limited space available.
How did he always seem able to do that? Somehow dominate whatever space he was in, and be so relaxed and comfortable even in her home?
It was oddly annoying, as he was clearly now being on purpose.
"You know I mean my personal stuff," she told him, though that sounded slightly suggestive. "I mean my records," she quickly clarified.
Though, considering he'd been sat in her quarters all night while she slept, she wasn't actually sure how that was less personal than him reading her off-rotation holiday records. Plus he'd already seen her far older condemning records that Robiah had no doubt shared with the Elite…so, what was her point here?
"I just meant," Oneakka fortunately started talking first, "that you've barely taken a handful of days off-rotation since you started working here."
"We have plenty of half-days and 'thinking days' on the project," she told him. "We need to get the work done."
"Everyone in the Facility is given thirty-two days off-rotation per yearly cycle to use at any time for any reason, Raven."
She pulled a face at him. "I'm sorry, this is coming from you? You who were so upset about failing your medical review and having to do more rehab that you started picking on staff."
And the subject of their massive argument had abruptly arrived. Not that she had intended to shy away from talking about it, but…
"I just mean," he replied though, using that softer tone again, "that recovery time post-engagement is important so that you don't work while you're supposed to be recovering."
He really did seem to be concerned about her recovery, though she also sensed that he didn't want to talk about their argument. But since he was currently being thoughtful, she let the argument-avoidance go…for now.
"I'll take time off to recover," she promised.
"You should take the full week, and maybe more, is my point."
"It's just a sprained ankle, Oneakka," she smiled at him. "It's not like I got impaled by a Hive ship."
"It wasn't a whole Hive ship," he replied his side to their standard banter on the horrific subject that had been his near-death. "And it isn't just a bad ankle, you were on a station that fell from orbit and you engaged in battle with the Wraith, more than once. You walked for miles under stressful circumstances, while pushing an industrial trolley with a fully grown male on it-"
"Nanuet was pushing it too," she interjected.
"So I'm worried," Oneakka continued, "that you're going to go back to the project after a barely a day or two and not properly recover."
Wow, he really did seem concerned about her.
"I won't," she told him, though what he'd suggested probably would be what she'd normally do.
"I'm leaving for my two week break away today," he added.
That was today?
A rush of disappointment hit her, which was weird because she'd been rather anxiously waiting for him to go away to give them some space from their repeated arguments.
"Well, while you're gone," she replied with as casual a tone as possible as she turned away towards her bathroom, "to your secret holiday wherever-"
"It's not a secret," he interrupted her. "I go to Pelydr every year."
"Pelydr?" She asked, honestly surprised as she turned back towards him.
He nodded.
"I thought you'd be going to some military two-weeklong obstacle course or something," she joked.
"That would be more like my usual job," he smiled. "No, these two weeks are about resting. They have some retreat spaces in various locations on Pelydr, with cabins to stay in."
"I thought Pelydrians don't have buildings, that they sleep under trees?" She checked. She'd never been to Pelydr, but everyone heard the stories, even outside the Alliance border. Though, some of the stories were truly crazy. However, she'd seen Elite Nalla work her apparent empathic power, so maybe there were some half-truths in some of the stories. And there'd been that Pelydrian who had predicted Halling's almost death on the Rogue Hive…
"They don't use buildings, but they do have small cabins for visiting off-worlders," Oneakka supplied. "The retreat I go to has five cabins. Well, just small, very basic huts really," he amended. "But the retreat is up in the mountains, the cabins looking out at the beautiful landscape. It's remote and there are nice walks."
"Sounds really nice," she had to admit, and so very different to what she imagined he'd do with his time away. She'd pictured military things or some big social place with lots of females to dote on him.
"It's my timeout every year to do nothing but go walking, read and cook meals. Plus, Pelydr is the safest planet in the galaxy, which I find relaxing."
"The safest? Really?" She frowned at that clearly unrealistic description.
"Yes, and it's nice and sunny and warm at the retreat at this time of year."
"Is that safe for your complexion?" She asked to tease him, but it was true, nonetheless. Surely his pale complexion put him at risk in sitting in direct sunlight for prolonged periods.
"The Pelydrians have assured me that the sunlight at the retreat site doesn't harm me at this time of year. It's when I top-up my tan."
She had to smile at the very clear teasing sparkle in his eyes. "A tan?" She asked doubtfully and he nodded. "You?"
"I can get a tan," he protested. "Nothing like your natural colour, but it's still a tan."
She lifted one arm, which felt definitely heavy and achy this morning, and compared her light brown colour to his snow-coloured skin. "Definitely way off," she told him.
"It's a good place to recover from an injury," he continued, not rising to the tan comparison baiting.
"Well, it's perfectly timed for you then," she agreed as she turned back towards the bathroom door. He'd clearly been longing for his time away, especially after having failed his medical review and, she had to admit, a two-week break in the sun on the 'safest' planet in the galaxy sounded perfect.
"I meant for you."
She paused and turned back to him. "Me?"
"You could stay at the retreat for a few days," he suggested with a faint shrug of one shoulder. "Get some proper rest."
He was inviting her to go with him to Pelydr?
"Just for a few days," Oneakka repeated. "Halling's been before," he added.
Because it was a place to relax and recover; that made sense.
"You'd have a cabin to yourself," he continued, sounding rather casual about the idea, but she got the impression that he actually really wanted her to go.
Which seemed strange and not something he'd done before…unless he was trying to make a point?
Maybe feeling a bit guilty perhaps at her having been on Saoka's station after their massive fight?
He'd made overt apologies before; been direct about it after their fight near the Portal and then, after their fight about Smee, he'd given her that beautiful expensive raven brooch, so grand gestures were not that uncommon from him.
Though, she abruptly realised, she had left the brooch at her workstation in the Project Room. She'd have to go get that, make sure it was safe.
"You'd like the summer warmth at the retreat," Oneakka added. "It only occasionally rains at this time of year, and there are some gentle local walks that could help you strengthen your ankle. I'll be gone the first morning there. Every year I go visit some old Pelydrian friends of my parents who live not too far away from the retreat, so you'd have the place to yourself for half a day."
It did sound nice...
"Is it busy at the cabins?" She asked.
"I have the whole retreat space to myself for my stay. There are five cabins, huts, but they're all free for me to use, so you could have more than one. There's cooking facilities as we have to prepare our own food there, but they stock up the pantry with all the basics. I usually do some shopping near the Portal when I first get there and that usually lasts."
A remote cabin with free food? And warm sunshine?
That was an apology that she could get onboard with.
He abruptly pushed up from his – her – chair. "You don't have to decide now. I'll be leaving the Facility after Midday Meal, so you can let me know."
He stood up to his full height, returning to the more usual slightly-upward angle that she normally saw him. Though, again, he seemed oddly larger stood in her small quarters, all broad-chested.
"Okay," she nodded as she caught herself edging backwards slightly into the bathroom doorway, but only because he took up too much space. "I'll think about it."
He nodded and then dropped his attention down to her feet. "Remember the bandage needs to come off this morning."
She looked down to see that he was pointing to her ankle. "I know."
"There's toasted sweeetgrain bread and that jam you like on the tray," he added, his hand now pointing to the table with her covered food he'd ordered for her.
She noticed that he'd left some uneaten fruit on his own tray.
"Thank you," she replied.
"And your Athosian tea," he added pointedly.
She rolled her eyes. "It's a coincidence. There are many blends of Athosian tea, so millions of people probably like this same tea too."
He grinned at her across the mere two feet between them. "I let Amel know that you're okay, and she text-linked me this morning to tell you to follow Healer's orders."
She blinked at him. He'd been text-linking with Amel about her?
Of course, she realised; she'd been in a big incident and Amel knew she and Oneakka were friends. It made perfect sense.
"Thank you," she found herself repeating. "I'll contact her."
She could ask Amel to retrieve the raven brooch for her, and she had to check that the Project Lead knew about her post-engagement leave. And if she was going to go to Pelydr, she was going to have to pack and let Neligan know that she'd not be visiting the goats for a few days.
Or she could just go back to bed for a while…
Oneakka shifted, moving away to the right, heading for the hallway and the way out. "If you don't want to go to Pelydr, I'll drop by later to check you're okay before I leave."
She nodded as she turned into the bathroom, her bladder now demanding some attention for certain, but she paused. "You said it was 'warm' on Pelydr, what sort of clothes should I pack? If I decide to go," she added quickly.
He paused partway down the hallway. "It's comfortable weather. I wear short sleeves, thin clothes. Your new sandals from Bakhau would be perfect. You'll need to take towels for the shower, and you can't take any toiletries with you. Pelydr have strict rules about soaps and cleaners, banning anything that could harm the environment and animals. They provide everything at the retreat you could need: various soaps, shampoo, tooth cleanser and more, all for free. And they have a washing system there that can clean and dry clothes within a few hours."
He should be on the advertising for Pelydr.
"Okay," she nodded simply.
He nodded in return and turned back towards the door.
"Does it get cold at night?" She suddenly wondered.
He paused again and looked back with a smile. "No, and you wouldn't feel it anyway."
"I was thinking about whether to take a blanket," she explained.
"There's blankets available in each cabin, and with five huts free to use, you could use all the duvets and blankets if you wanted."
A hut bed with five sets of duvets and blankets? That sounded amazing, if slightly crazy idea.
Well, four sets of bedding, because Oneakka would be in the fifth cabin.
"Okay, I'll think about it," she told him, deciding to be casual about it. If he wanted to apologise, she wasn't going to make it too easy for him, after all the way he'd been behaving lately.
"Okay," he nodded as he turned to move forward again, but then looked back at her. "Any more questions?"
He was teasing her.
"No, I'm done," she stated as she stepped into the bathroom, out of his view.
"You can even bring my shirt with you to sleep in," his voice drifted up the hallway.
Damn it.
She quickly took one long sideways step back out of the bathroom to glare at him. "I only wear it occasionally," she lied. "And it's my shirt now."
"I'll see you later," he replied cheerfully as he reached her quarters door and it slid open. "If you want to go to Pelydr," he added as he stepped out into the corridor and looked back at her along his shoulder, "I can always meet you here to carry your bag for you."
"I can carry my own things just fine, thank you," she found herself instantly protesting.
He grinned for some reason. "Let me know, Raven," he stated and was abruptly gone, leaving an empty patch of corridor for a few seconds before the door slid shut again.
Why did he have to have seen her wearing his old shirt?!
Not that it mattered, she quickly corrected herself.
It didn't mean anything; it was just a big old shirt and it was nice to sleep in.
The question was whether to take the shirt with her to Pelydr or not; if she took it, then he'd know it was her favourite one, but if she didn't take it, then he'd win…
Maybe she didn't even want to go to Pelydr…and she was still stood frowning at her own closed door!
Huffing at her own stupidity, she moved back into the bathroom and headed towards the wash basin. She had to be mad to consider going anyway, because they'd no doubt just end up arguing again and that would ruin everything, even a nice pretty sounding retreat.
She grabbed up her toothbrush and squirted tooth cleanser over it.
Though if the oaf wanted to apologise with an exotic all-expenses paid holiday for her, then she should go.
After all the arguments and what had happened on Saoka's station, she deserved to get something nice out of it.
Well, besides the beautiful raven brooch.
00000
TBC