Chapter 20: Ancient Killers

Step one of entrenching the lie that was Alex's existence had been a success. General O'Neill, in all his wisdom, had included a carefully blank and slightly corrupt document that was supposed to explain Alex's presence in the city. Woolsey had been rather annoyed that he didn't get the official response, but O'Neill now had plenty of time – till the end of the week – to make sure that all the stories being told matched up. They would just have to be careful to not add to the lie.

John paced through the halls, doing his customary rounds. The marines had long since made their disapproval of their commander wandering on his own with nothing but a headset for backup, but… he liked the chance to get out into the city. To make sure it was all where it was supposed to be.

He guessed that it was something only an ATA gene carrier would understand.

In the past year, Rodney had only called him out on accidentally energizing different parts of the city once. And that had been a mistake. He had learned to keep it reined in ever since.

Just making sure he passed through all the active sections at least once every two weeks took up a lot of his time – and made an excellent excuse to avoid Lorne and the paperwork. He did his best to stay out of his office as much as possible – unless he was actively planning out missions for the various teams. Since he was back nearly a full month earlier than expected, he hadn't hesitated to let Lorne continue coordinating those and had nabbed a run of the mill science mission for his team. Not the most exciting, but Rodney would be happy.

Personally, he preferred first-contact missions, but those missions had become less and less common for his team. After all, people had quickly realized that losing the military commander of Atlantis was a problem. He liked to think that now he had Lorne trained well, it was less of a problem.

It hadn't stopped the IOA trying to politely demand he stop leaving the city altogether. But he wasn't about to give up those freedoms.

"Colonel Sheppard, could you come to my office, please?"

Woolsey. On the private channel, not the public command channel.

John grit his teeth, then spun on the spot heading toward the nearest transporter. "I'm on my way." He didn't bother with proper radio protocol – Woolsey had been particularly stubborn in not learning that. It was a miracle they had him using the comms in the first place, sometimes.

Private channel meant that it wasn't a crisis.

It could be absolutely innocent.

But Woolsey also knew that Lorne was running point for the next couple of weeks. Any issues with the military were supposed to go by him first. Which meant…

John punched a button on the transporter that was the second closest to the gate room. He wasn't going to rush.

"You understand that this entire situation is very strange, least of all coming from O'Neill who has been staunchly against any visitors coming to Atlantis. Why the precedent…" Woolsey had abandoned his restrained posture behind his desk and was openly pacing.

John just sprawled in the chair, wishing he could be anywhere but here.

"When the IOA finds out about this, how will we ignore their requests to step foot in the city themselves?"

Point.

It was why it was all such a convoluted mess in the first place. The last thing they needed was for the IOA to see this as their signed invitation – and in turn, the invitation the Trust needed to truly invade. "When they're prepared to present how they're going to contribute to the city, I'm sure General O'Neill will consider their request." And deny it appropriately, based on security concerns.

Woolsey frowned at him, then pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Colonel Sheppard – John. The fact that we're letting anyone on this city is a security concern. And I don't understand why you're not concerned about it."

John shrugged, entirely uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. Woolsey could cast aspersions on O'Neill's motives all he wanted – O'Neill wasn't present to defend himself and really, did anyone ever know what that man was thinking? But questioning John's judgment… that would have more localized consequences. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Woolsey pulled of his glasses and rubbed at one of the lenses. "And I'm hearing… disturbing reports from some of the personnel."

John very carefully didn't let his spine stiffen. He hadn't heard any untoward rumors. Most of the conversations he had subtly overheard regarding Alex were complimentary in nature. He worked well with Dr. Zelenka. He had a natural talent for understanding languages. Even Rodney's scorn at having a schoolboy in their midst had quelled when he realized that he had access to a mind he could shape.

It was almost adorable at how the scientists had taken Alex under their wings.

"That he's proficient in self-defense and can take on some of the marines head-to-head. Men two times his size." Woolsey shoved his glasses back on and started pacing again. "I've heard rumors that some of the marines have made a game of how close they can get without him noticing."

John very deliberately didn't roll his eyes. "And that's a problem?" After all, they had had enough trouble forcing some of the scientists to keep up with the mandatory minimum defense skills. There were still quite a few that hadn't ever qualified on weapons – and they had no hope of ever getting onto a gate team. And situational awareness was always a preferred option – though with as much as John knew, Alex's level of situational awareness was probably a sign of bigger mental issues.

He had been in therapy, after all. And then had all the support systems he had built for himself uprooted and – in the case of Theo, absolutely destroyed.

"He's a child." Woolsey spun and fixed him with a stare. "Or at least, that's what we're supposed to believe. But what child has that level of… awareness? He acts more like one of your soldiers than a scientist!"

Which, huh.

He hadn't quite expected Woolsey to take that approach. And while there were probably some bits that were closer to the truth than any of them were comfortable with… Alex was still a kid. Emancipated or not, he was still under the age of eighteen. He had just seen some of the worst of the world at a young age and was… scarred. Much like a number of the soldiers.

"Mr. Woolsey, I assure you, Alex is who he says he is. A sixteen-year-old emancipated minor working on a degree in engineering. And let me remind you – he was targeted by the Trust just a couple of weeks ago. Even a sixteen-year-old can be affected when they are faced with their own mortality." And wasn't that the truth. John had no doubt that it would be weeks, months even, before they had any inkling of what Alex was really like. For now, all they had to work with were the public fronts he put up.

Huh.

Maybe his own approach with Alex needed to change.

More like a traumatized soldier than a well-adjusted scientist.

Well… to say any of the scientists were particularly well-adjusted was probably a bit of a stretch…

With a heavy sigh, Woolsey finally sat back down in his chair. He studied John closely, as if looking for a crack in the story. Something that would confirm what he thought he knew. "I'm not going to pretend that you're telling me everything. But…" He ran a hand over his face, looking particularly worn. "I'm going to trust that you have your reasons and that those are more important than telling me every little thing the military does. However—if there's something concerning the direct security of this city… I do hope you know that I will whatever is best for the city, even if the IOA may not approve."

John ducked his head. "Of course," And he meant it. If the situation changed, if they got the green light from O'Neill, then they would loop him in. If something happened and the Trust got onto Atlantis… Woolsey would never forgive himself. Neither would John.

"Tell me you have something good." Rodney snapped his fingers impatiently, before snatching the thermos out of John's hands. He was already downing the brew, no doubt burning himself in the process and not even caring.

"Why, hello to you too Rodney." John skirted around the obviously glowing devices laid out on the lab tables and the array of zats, each meticulously tagged with notes that he wasn't quite sure what to make of. He may have left Rodney down in the labs for a little too long; he was starting to look a little harried around the edges.

Like when scientific discovery outweighed the need for sleep and nourishment.

John searched in his pocket and tossed a power bar in Rodney's direction.

Unerringly, he caught it, without even pulling up from the thermos.

Definitely had been a little bit too long.

John may have been enjoying his semi-vacation just a little too much…

He circled around the table, watching the zats out of the corner of his eye, like they were going to just up and shoot him. At this point, he wouldn't put it past them. Whatever the Ancient Killer mojo was, he didn't really want anything to do with it.

He was only in the lab under protest – because Dr. Zelenka had pointed out that Rodney hadn't surfaced for over three days and John was currently the only one with clearance to enter the lab.

The pile of power bar wrappers in the trash bin only confirmed that suspicion.

"This is amazing," Rodney said, mouth full of power bar and still tapping away at his computer. "The energy requirements for this would be… extraordinary…"

"So, you're making progress?"

"Hmm? Yes, what?" He turned and blinked up at John, seeming to truly recognize his presence in the room. Not just as a food errand boy. "Oh!" He waved John to the side, frantically. "Step back, don't get close to those."

John took another couple of cautious steps away from the zats, contemplating whether putting Rodney between them and himself was a good idea. Rodney would just get mad at him if something happened… "Okay…" He was all but pressed up against the wall by the time Rodney stopped gesturing wildly. "Want to tell me why?"

"Automatic correlative updates." As if that was an explanation.

John just crossed his arms. "Rodney, English."

"Look, it's like…" Rodney ran a hand through his hair, making the ends stand on end. "Carter theorized that the stargates underwent automatic correlative updates in order to compensate for stellar drift, but a virus proved that it can sometimes be triggered. Or well, a tampered virus." He shook his head and waved it off. "Anyway. Gates are Ancient technology. Zats are goa'uld, right? Wrong!"

John raised a careful eyebrow.

"Well, sort of." Rodney corrected himself. "Zats are based off of research that was originally done by the Ancients – back before they left the Ori galaxy in the first place. There are—"

"Rodney, correlative updates mean danger, how?"

"These zats are undergoing progressive updates, changing the very structure of their functionality. Already, one of the original zats has had enough of the code rewritten that it appears to work more like a Trust zat. And well," He looked a little sheepish. "Some might be a little trigger happy."

"Trigger happy?" John all but yelled, taking several more steps toward the door. He did not want to get shot again.

"I think I've isolated that part of the code."

"You think?"

"I have, okay?" Rodney scowled in his direction, before unceremoniously dropping the thermos onto the lab bench, and typing a few rapid commands into his computer. "Just the… transitory process apparently occurs faster when a stronger gene carrier is present." He frowned at whatever he was typing, then moved to place everything back inside the cases. Carefully.

John didn't relax until the last zat was out of sight and he was sure that they weren't going to get hit by a rogue weapon.

A rogue weapon.

What kind of world was he living in?

"So, you've figured out the problem?"

"Figured out—" Rodney spluttered. "I've only just begun to scratch the surface! And we're going to run out of original zats before we know it. And Area 51 hardly made a dent in figuring out the programming… Of course, I'm a genius, so—"

John took that as his cue to all but steer Rodney out of the lab. "And geniuses still need to eat and recharge."

He wasn't sad to get away from the zats either.

If he had felt he could, he would've assigned Zelenka to assist Rodney, but… they needed him to run interference for Alex. Still, with apparently trigger happy zats, John wasn't sure he was so comfortable with Rodney working alone.

Rodney was going to protest, but… There had to be someone else they could trust. At least from a safety standpoint.

Dragging Rodney out to the piers for dinner was probably the best idea he had had in a long time. It was quiet, secluded, away from the prying eyes of his Marines, and Rodney could rant about the idiotic decisions made by the ancients to his heart's content without any worry of someone overhearing them.

John lounged on his chair, kicking his feet out over the edge. One of these days, he was probably going to get knocked in, but…

Rodney devoured his fourth not-turkey sandwich before finally coming up for air. "When were you planning to tell me that Woolsey cornered you?"

John grimaced. Of course, Rodney would know about that. No doubt the gate techs were letting rumors fly again. "When it became relevant?"

Rodney harrumphed, before settling back against his own chair. "And what scary stories did he tell you about Alex?"

"How did you—" He shook his head. Rodney heard everything it seemed. Probably because Zelenka ran the books… "He's worried that Alex isn't who he says he is. Actually doubts that he's a teenager."

"Not a—" Rodney snorted. "That's probably about the only thing I don't question about him. You're sure you found him at a community college?"

John blew out a long breath. "Actually, found him in the basement of the SGC." He hadn't quite gotten to the point of explaining exactly how he had gotten mixed up in Alex's mess. Hadn't figured out how to put into words that members of the SGC had only sort of saved Alex from the Trust.

Rodney studied him for a long moment, unusually perceptive. "And you don't mean that in a… innocent way. You didn't just run into him in the mess or something."

"No…" John glanced away, fingers picking at the sweatband around his wrist. He hated to think what could have happened, how long Alex could have suffered before someone decided enough was enough. Before someone broke orders. "Colonel Stadler has been placed under administrative review, but he'll probably walk because of the whole zat issue." And telling Rodney all the details was probably the worst idea out of anyone. He sometimes understood a little too much of the military world. "The Trust was successful in capturing Alex. Stadler and his team raided the place before anything happened, but… Stadler took Alex's presence among dead symbiotes to be a sign Alex was one of them. He interrogated Alex for nearly a full day, without Mitchell's knowledge, and refused him basic medical care. By the time…" He cleared his throat. "By the time we ran into each other, Alex was making a last-ditch attempt at escape. It was at least another four hours before he got any medical attention." And that had been minimal at best.

If things had gone as they should've… Well, they might have traumatized Alex slightly by sticking needles in him, but… he would've been a lot better off in the long run. And he also probably would've never made it all the way to the SGC.

Rodney's face was pinched tight. "And that's how they figured out that something was up with the zats. You got shot again."

John nodded slowly, fingers all but digging into his arm. "Only… only once, this time." And it had still hurt like hell. But he had been able to pretend for a while that he was okay. Had held it together long enough for O'Neill to swoop in and save the day. And Dr. Lam.

Really, it could've been a lot worse.

"Don't come into the lab," Rodney's voice was quiet. "They react to the presence of a strong gene carrier and speed up the conversion. If we have any hope of figuring it out—" He broke off, turning to gaze out at the ocean. "If the Trust gets wind of what these devices really do, they're not going to stop just because of the threat to their human counterparts. I'd even wager it has little effect on goa'uld, what with their healing abilities and all…"

The Trust would just go trigger happy. Mow down everyone in their path – because if they hit enough people, enough times, the brain damage would do the rest of the work for them.

"Alright, Rodney. Dazzle me with your brain."

The seriousness of the moment was broken and Rodney punched him in the shoulder. "Really, though, don't go down there. It seems like it was a purposeful modification, but… goa'uld is so different from Ancient, or even Wraith. It's been a few years since…"

"You'll figure it out. Perhaps in the nick of time, but… you'll find the answer."

Rodney cast a skeptical glance in his direction. "Thanks for your confidence, I guess…"

John leaned back in the chair, content to let whatever come, come. At this point, whatever the Trust was planning was well out of their hands. The least they could do was protect the city and protect Alex.

Gearing up to go to M3X-012 was more fun than John had had in a long time. Of course, it had been nearly three months since he had gone off world – Earth didn't count – and he was itching to get back out there with his team. Politics and responsibilities were annoying shackles to deal with.

Hopefully no one would get the bright idea of burdening him with even more responsibilities one of these days…

John shrugged into his tac vest, checking the pockets for the usual supplies. Bandages, power bars, epi pen, med kit, knife. He tugged the wristband further down over his wrist, carefully concealing the lettering beneath. He should have gotten a new one while he was on Earth, but… it was just going to have to wait until the next supply run finally made it back out to them.

Whenever that was.

Ronon was already geared up, blaster secured in its holster.

He still needed to get Rodney to make one of those for him. There were, unfortunately, always more pressing concerns to deal with. Wraith. Trust operatives. World-impending doom. Zats.

The list went on.

John glanced around the ready room, noting one missing occupant in particular. "Dr. McKay?" He tapped his comm, casting on the public channel. If someone saw him, they would know to send him on his way. "Please report to the ready room. Your team is waiting."

Ronon blew out an amused huff, then grabbed Rodney's tac vest and started checking it over. Teammates picking up the slack was both a good thing and a bad thing. At least John could trust that Ronon wouldn't try slipping something unapproved into the pockets.

At least he could rely on someone to keep Rodney on the straight and narrow. He tossed a couple of extra power bars to Ronon, who would find a suitable place to stash them. Rodney would thank them later, whenever they got to the depths of the uninhabited planet.

Lieutenant Simmons, their fourth since Teyla was off negotiating a trade agreement – an unfortunately common occurrence in the past few months – was already stacking his pack full of ammo and C4. John had hated to take him off of Alex-duty, but the lieutenant desperately needed more off world time, and John had sort of promised. Even if that off world time was with none other than Rodney McKay. Trial by fire, it seemed.

"Right," He zipped up his chest pouch before slinging his P90 over his shoulder. "Let's head out, McKay will catch up soon enough."

And sure enough, not two minutes after they got to the gate room, Rodney flew in, in a tizzy and yanked on his tac vest. "You could give a little more warning, Colonel."

Ooh, the title only came out when Rodney was pissed. John raised a careful eyebrow. "You mean the two hour and thirty-minute warnings weren't enough?"

Rodney just huffed. "Yes, well…" He zipped up the tac vest, patting down the pockets. "Who…?"

"Ronon."

"And are there—"

Ronon clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him off his feet. "All as it should be, McKay."

"Wait, he's McKay?" Alex appeared in the gate room, carrying what looked to be a rather heavy case for Dr. Zelenka. Private Diver just followed them along at a sedate pace, clearly not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

"What do you mean he's McKay? Who else would I be?" Rodney shot back, looking slightly insulted.

"But you're… He's…" Alex blew out a long breath, then let the case drop to the floor. "Everyone makes it seem like you're a fire breathing dragon or something."

John choked back a snort, as Rodney seemed to vacillate between looking pleased and affronted. He supposed no one had quite bothered to formally introduce them, though he was sure it had to have come up at some point…

There were other muffled smirks, mainly from Zelenka.

"Yes, well—" Rodney turned around with a huff and started back at patting down his pockets. At least he already had his sidearm.

"What'cha got for us Dr. Z?" John figured it was probably best to just let that one slide. Rodney would be nursing his fragile ego if everyone made a big deal about it.

"Is new environmental sensor for 021," Zelenka said, digging around inside what just looked like a mess of wires and cables all but stuffed into a pack. Definitely hodgepodged together in a strange combination of earth and ancient technology. "MALP showed damage and needs to be working for safe environment."

John raised a careful eyebrow. "But it's safe to go through?" Because he wasn't sure this had actually been covered in the briefing. Just that they were replacing something and then letting Rodney play with his toys for a few hours.

"Oh, yes. Entropy will only be reached after full outpost power up. Replace it before turning everything on, and you'll have plenty of time."

"Right…"

Zelenka held his hand out expectantly toward Alex, waiting for some tool or another. Wordlessly, Alex handed over what appeared to be the correct tool.

A match made in heaven, it seemed.

"And it's ready…?" Because they were on a time crunch. The next data burst was due the next day, and as much as John would have liked it, they couldn't afford to be off world for that.

"No jo no, zase je to na mně."

Alex replied in a similar tone, with a grin on his face.

Right.

Because he had been taking classes in Czech.

Coincidence? Fate, perhaps…

"Is ready," Zelenka said, sitting back on his heels and examining the… mess. "Rodney must just connect to power coupling and reprogram control modules."

Rodney huffed. "As if it were that simple."

"Simple for genius like you, no?"

"Then let's get going." John figured it was best to cut it off before Rodney reacted. "Dial it up Chuck."

While Chuck definitely didn't have the flair for the dramatic that Walter at the SGC seemed to have, there was still a thrill at seeing all seven chevrons successfully dial. John cast a glance in Alex's direction, who seemed transfixed.

Surely someone had thought to bring him to a dial up in the past several weeks…

Or they had all just wrongly assumed that he had seen it once before.

Well…

Rodney zipped up the pack and then shouldered it on, grabbing his P90 from a waiting Lieutenant Simmons. The moment the shield dropped, he started toward it, Ronon hot on his heels. John just snorted to himself, then gave a jaunty wave to those that had bothered to stick around for the dial up. "Be back by dinner!"

And he stepped through the wormhole.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!