Jo Graham - The Furies

*And if it is the Consort of Atlantis?* Waterlight asked. She looked up at Thorn, her head to the side. *What then?*

*Then we have a worthy trade,* Thorn said, and though he did not wish it she could see the shape of the fears in his mind. Queen Death had little tolerance for lesser queens unless they brought her something of surpassing worth, and Waterlight had nothing. She was nothing by Queen Death’s reckoning. A few tens of men, a battered ship — she would be dead already, had it even been worth the time to send men to kill her. The day would come, inevitably, when their poaching trespassed upon a greater hive, or when Promised Return chanced upon one of Queen Death’s ships. There was no need for Death to seek out Waterlight. In the end, it would all be the same.

*I am not afraid,* Waterlight said, and hoped that it did not show that she was.

It was there in the mind of the one she called Father — the Consort of Atlantis might be worth her life in trade. If this human were he, perhaps Death would take him as gift, and leave Promised Return alone. Perhaps his life might buy a few more years for Waterlight.

*And if it is not?* Waterlight asked. *Will we not then look foolish? And moreover call her attention to us?*

*It is a gamble,* Thorn admitted. *But perhaps we may first speak to one of her counselors who has seen the Consort before. If this is some other who only resembles him, we will know before Queen Death ever hears of it. Be still, and I shall contact those blades I know who might study this likeness and tell me if it is or not. I think there are those who can tell me with little risk.* He looked at Waterlight, his teeth bared in a mirthless smile. *I am not entirely friendless yet.*

*I did not say you were,* Waterlight said, trying to keep the color of her mind from shifting with embarrassment. In truth she did not blame him for their predicament, much as some might. He had been Consort. It had been his duty to protect the hive, to protect his Queen with his very life. To have lost her and survived was not something a man might live down. He should have died for her, rather than live for their daughter, even if his Queen had wished it otherwise.

*Then with your permission, My Queen,* Thorn said sharply. *I will contact those blades I know now in her orbit who may be able to identify the Consort of Atlantis. If we have that one, then perhaps our fortunes will change.*

A cold wind scoured the whitecaps crashing against the piers, but Sam Carter thought it wasn’t as cold as it had been. Atlantis was beautiful in the weak winter sunshine, as always. They were a week past the winter solstice here, and soon the days would lengthen noticeably. They might even get warmer. Sam could appreciate the astronomical elegance of the seasons, even while nearly freezing to death in her flightsuit, waiting for Steven Caldwell on this chilly balcony.

“Sorry about that.” He came out through the glass doors to the control room and rubbed his hands together. “Cold out here.”

“Yes,” Sam said. There wasn’t really any other reply to stating the obvious.

“We’ve got a problem,” Caldwell said.

Which was again stating the obvious. Sam settled for looking attentive. She’d had plenty of practice at that.

“With Sheppard missing and Woolsey stuck on Earth, that means the Chief of Sciences is in charge in Atlantis. Dr. Zelenka.” Caldwell leaned forward on his elbows, looking out over the sea.

“While McKay is gone,” Sam agreed.

Caldwell shot her a sharp look. “You know we’re never getting McKay back. Let’s be practical. Sheppard may turn up, may actually survive whatever crazy scheme he’s playing, but McKay? And who the hell knows what’s going on with Woolsey.”

“The IOA,” Sam said. There was a wealth of information in that statement of fact. She knew Caldwell had rarely seen eye to eye with the IOA, and he knew how she’d been relieved in Atlantis.

“They might send him back. They might send God knows who.” Caldwell spread his hands, the light around the corner of the building just touching them.

“Or they might take three months to make up their minds,” Sam said. She leaned forward on her elbows beside him. “We’ve been off the grid for nineteen days. General O’Neill will have recalled Odyssey by now. It will probably take Odyssey weeks to get back to Earth with its ZPM, but the minute it does we’ll have Colonel Mitchell and SG-1 blowing in here locked and loaded.” There was a good deal of comfort in thinking of that. It might look like she and Caldwell were hanging out to dry, but Sam knew they weren’t. Millions of lightyears away Jack and Cam were moving heaven and earth.

Caldwell nodded as though he found that thought comforting too. “Look, Sam, we know there’s nothing here we can’t handle. But they don’t know that. If it looks like there’s too much of a crisis the IOA is going to panic.”

“And what? Order Atlantis back to Earth? We haven’t got the power to go around the block, much less back to the Milky Way.”

Caldwell looked at her sideways. “And scrap the project.”

“They wouldn’t do that,” she said.

“They wouldn’t?” Caldwell’s eyebrows rose. “In case you didn’t notice while you were fitting out the Hammond , there’s a global economic crisis at home. How much do you think this expedition costs? And how much do you think they’re recouping?”

“It’s not about immediate cash,” Sam said. “It’s about the long term opportunities. The scientific advances. The technologies we’re discovering are priceless.”

“Right now what they are is expensive and useless,” Caldwell said. He shook his head. “You scientists get all hot and bothered about things that might pan out sometime, but the math on Earth is this — is it worth any money?”

“We’re not a bunch of conquistadores out looking for treasure,” Sam said. “This isn’t about finding nifty stuff that can go on EBay.”

“Or opening new markets?” Caldwell snorted. “Not a lot of new markets here, Carter. Just a lot of people needing humanitarian aid and a whole ton of Wraith. It’s costing a lot of money and a lot of lives for a lot of nothing.”

“What are you saying?” Sam straightened up. “We can’t just pack up and go home.”

“And we won’t,” Caldwell said. “The Air Force has a big investment in ships and we’re getting our money’s worth in technology that gives us superiority at home. We’re not going anywhere. But the Atlantis expedition isn’t cost effective. If it starts looking like a liability, the IOA will pull the plug.”

“If we don’t have a base, we’re screwed,” Sam said bluntly. “Right now. Today. The kind of damage the Hammond took…”

Caldwell looked at her sideways. “How much did you massage the report?”

“I massaged the summary,” Sam said, reaching up to push an errant lock of hair back behind her ear. “The devil’s in the details, but the IOA won’t read them unless O’Neill gives them the full version. Which I doubt.” Which she’d stake good money on. The Hammond didn’t belong to the IOA. They’d never know how close she’d been to losing it with all hands.

Caldwell shrugged. “Mine too,” he said. He straightened up. “We can’t stay out of communication like this until Odyssey gets back to Earth. If the IOA has two solid months or so to stew, they’ll eat Woolsey alive and pull the plug on the whole thing. I need to get back to a Milky Way gate and dial in. Those reports aren’t doing any good sitting on our hard drives.” He let out a deep breath. “The Hammond is still under repair. That last series of shots took the Asgard drive out. Daedalus needs to make the run. And I feel better about leaving the station with you here to hold Zelenka’s hand. He’s an ok guy, but not who I’d want in charge in Atlantis.”