David Golemon - Ancients

"Where's the colonel?" Ryan asked in near panic.

Mendenhall pushed past the sputtering Tomlinson and through the three seamen and had to be restrained by Everett.

"No," was all Will could utter as Everett pulled him away and then tuned him toward the hatch that was now flooding with water.

"Come on, Will," was all he could say as the younger man held on to him and went through the hatchway without a last look back.

Ryan did look back. "God, not both of them," he said as he slowly turned away and followed the last of his friends through the diving trunk and pulled the hatch closed and dogged it down tightly. Ryan leaned against the cold steel and placed his head in the crook of his arm until he thought he could control himself.

The Cheyenne slowly slipped under the rough seas and all that was left on the surface was emptiness.

The earth had stopped its convulsions and Thor's Hammer would never sound again.

The Ancients would forever lie quiet in their deep and dark abyss.

Everett was in the officers' wardroom, staring blankly at the cup of coffee the mess steward had brought in. Will was sitting across from him and Ryan was pacing. The SEAL lieutenant had excused himself, having detecting the closeness of these people, and gone to for check on his men. What was left of them.

"I ... I ..." Everett started to say something and then couldn't finish.

The door to the officers' mess opened and the Cheyenne's pharmacist's mate knocked on the frame.

"Colonel Collins?"

Everett looked up and saw the man, but he was really looking right through him.

"He's ... he's not here," Ryan said as he patted Will on the back and stepped up to the door.

"Well, uh, the lieutenant was asking for him," the young seaman said, looking at the three solemn men.

"Lieutenant? He just left here to check on his men," Everett said from his chair.

"Uh, no, sir, the woman officer--she was asking for a Colonel Collins."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Everett said as he slowly stood up.

Will straightened at the long table and with moist eyes stared questioningly at the young sailor.

"The casualty that was brought aboard, sir--she's awake and asking for Colonel Collins."

Everett was through the door before the pharmacist's mate could move out of the way. He was unceremoniously shoved aside and watched in shock as Ryan and Mendenhall quickly followed.

Everett, Mendenhall, and Ryan stood over the small figure on the bed. The lights had been lowered and they could see the IV that was pumping O-negative blood into her tiny arm. There was an oxygen line running into her nose, held in place by a piece of tape. Her shoulder wound wasn't covered; the bullet hole was held open by four stainless steel clips. Her bleeding had stopped. Her hair was still damp but had been brushed back. She looked as weak as any person Everett or the others could remember ever having seen before.

The men were quiet as they watched the rise and fall of her chest. Everett turned to the senior hospital corpsman.

"She was dead. I ... I felt no pulse at all," he whispered.

"Well, sir, that's what happens when you don't have any blood. No blood, no blood pressure. She was damn near bled out and that's why you felt no pulse." The corpsman wrote something down on her chart and then looked at Everett.

"She's a strong young lady. She'll make it. As soon as we can get her transferred to the Iwo, a doctor can take that bullet out of her shoulder."

"God," Mendenhall said as he stared down at Sarah, one of his only friends.

Everett waited until the corpsman had walked over and sat at his desk, then he leaned over and touched Sarah's cheek.

He pulled back when her eyes fluttered open. They stayed that way for a moment and then slowly closed.

"Where's ... Jack? Did he ... save the ... world?" she asked weakly, her words slow and full of cotton.

"Yeah, Sarah, he did." Everett leaned over and whispered into her ear as Sarah slowly went back out. "Go back to sleep, we'll be here for you."

Mendenhall and Ryan lowered their heads, dreading the time when Sarah would have to be told about Jack.

"Yeah," Everett said as he straightened. "He saved the world."

EPILOGUE

Niles Compton walked slowly beside the president of the United States. The commander in chief looked far older than his fifty-two years. He walked with his hands behind his back. His Secret Service detail was nowhere to be seen, having been left behind in Niles's outer office. The president had decided that if he couldn't be safe here, he wouldn't be anywhere.

"I'll always have doubts about the moves I made. How many lives did I cost in the end by not acting decisively?"

Niles didn't answer at first; he just looked straight ahead at the long and curving corridor of level seventeen. Alice Hamilton and Virginia Pollock were ten steps behind and didn't hear the president's concern.

"I think you have to judge yourself just how many people you saved. To look at these things any other way is nonconstructive."

"Not exactly a ringing endorsement."

Niles shrugged and then looked at his old friend. "The world has changed, but we get no wiser. We always expect our enemies to be easily identifiable and never, ever one of our own kind. The most dangerous enemy is the one who thinks like we do, has the same dreams of controlling those people who we think are below us, when in fact ..." Niles paused. "You did the best anyone could have done, and I now believe the world is a more trusting place today because you took the time to prove an innocence when others wouldn't listen. Now you have a leg up in the area of credibility, and in this world, Jim, that counts for a lot."

Niles came to a door with a marine corporal standing guard outside. The back letters on the door read CONTAINMENT.

"And now your opinion on these two," the president asked.

Niles nodded for the guard to unlock the door.

"My opinion is that we can learn a lot from them. But I also believe they are traitors to their country, traitors to the peace they claimed to embrace. They and their kind knew all there was to know about the Juliai Coalition for over two thousand years, and yet they remained silent through their arrogance. You and I lost a lot of good people because this group was allowed to flourish, and they were a part of that. No matter how noble their intentions."

The door opened and Niles stepped across the threshold and froze. The president saw the director's shoulders sag he looked into the simply furnished two-room containment apartment.

"What is the--"

The words froze in the president's mouth as he saw what Niles was staring at. Carmichael Rothman and Martha Laughlin sat peacefully on the small couch. Her head rested on his left shoulder and they looked as if they were sleeping. On the small table before them was Carmichael's medication for his cancer. The bottle was on its side and the morphine was gone.

Niles walked into the room and felt the wrists of both Ancients and found no pulse on either. He picked up the note that lay beside the empty bottle and read it and then handed it to the president.

" Guilty, " it said.

Niles walked to a small chair and sat down and rubbed his hands over his face.

The president looked at the old couple with a curious look on his face. Then he put the note back down beside the bottle and shook his head.

"All their knowledge and wisdom ... they couldn't have found a better way to atone for their silence?"

Niles looked up. "People of their intelligence have a terminal disease. It's called lack of imagination. No," he said, standing and walking to the door. "In their minds, they had no other way to go, and that's why their kind is now extinct."