Chris Wraight - Dead end

McKay felt a flare of deep-seated irritation. “Hardly,” he snapped. “Radek couldn’t have known this, but half the equipment he’s used I already pulled out of their sockets on the way over. He’s created this magical module in the Jumper bay with a team of support staff and a whole bank of diagnostic equipment. I’m going to have to do the whole thing with a few rolls of duct-tape and a hair-dryer.”

“You brought a hair-dryer?”

“I’m speaking figuratively,” said McKay, acidly. “The point is, this doesn’t get us home. It doesn’t even get us close to home. It just gives me a headache, and a whole lot more work.”

As he finished speaking, there was a sudden cracking sound.

“Oh, God…” McKay said, and made for the rear door. Sheppard followed him. The cracking grew in volume, echoing across the ice. McKay scrambled out of the Jumper, Sheppard right behind him; the ground under their feet seemed pretty stable.

“Over there!” Sheppard cried, pointing towards the Stargate.

McKay’s first emotion was relief — the Jumper wasn’t likely to plunge into a chasm beneath them — but then he went cold.

“The Stargate…” he breathed. “Oh my God. Now we’re totally screwed.”

Sitting in the doorway of a small but immaculate hut, Teyla took a deep draught of the warm drink she had been given and felt its effects immediately. It had a tart fruity flavor and the more she had of it, the more she liked it. The food was similarly good. She had no idea how long she’d been out after the Banshee attack in the settlement, but she did know she had emerged very hungry and thirsty. The food and drink she’d been given had gone a long way to restoring her equilibrium.

The people of the Underworld — which, for want of a better name, Teyla had started to call the Taken — certainly had it good. The produce of the fields was bountiful, and the food the people produced was a welcome change from the endless pots of buffalo stew she had endured while in the settlement on Khost. The hot fruit-juice she had been given was a particular pleasure.

For all the horror engendered by the Banshees, the place to which they took their prey was much more comfortable than their old snow-bound home. Those Forgotten who had been taken seemed content, though somewhat withdrawn and taciturn. Teyla could understand part of their reaction — to be taken away from family and friends against their will was traumatic and, no matter how pleasant their surroundings, they were still at the capricious whim of the Banshees.

“Good morning, Teyla.” She was roused from her introspection by Miruva. She had a line of flowers woven into her hair and was dressed in the simple fabric clothes of the others. “How are you feeling?”

Teyla smiled, pleased to see her looking so happy. “I am well,” she said. “This is a beautiful place.”

Miruva nodded, but looked briefly troubled. “It is,” she said. “It is strange, though.” She looked down. “My mother… I never thought to see her again. I feel somehow… Forgive me. I shouldn’t speak of such things.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” said Teyla. Miruva’s conflicting emotions were plain to see; only a day ago she had believed her mother dead, had grieved for her. “You have a big change to cope with. It will take time for you to adjust, but I am sure that you will feel better in time.”

Miruva smiled her thanks. “I’m sure I shall. But you have had much to adjust to as well. How are you feeling?”

“Impatient,” said Teyla. “I cannot just sit here and ponder the mystery of our journey here. There is a secret to this place, and even if the others are content to let it lie, I am not.”

“What do you mean? For better or worse, we have been taken to the afterlife. We must resign ourselves to it.”

Teyla gave her a sharp look. “Come, Miruva,” she said. “You are an intelligent woman, you cannot believe that. These people are aging. The children grow older, just as they do on the surface. We are very much alive, but some force has transported us here. We need to find out how, and whether we can get back.”

“Back?” Miruva stared. “To Khost? Why would you suggest such a thing? We were dying there, whatever my father may have thought. I don’t know whether the Banshees are good or evil, but at least they’ve taken us away from that terrible place.”

“What of your father?” Teyla asked, surprised. “And Orand? You cared for both of them. Do you not want them to join you here?”

“Of course. But the Banshees will bring them. This is our destiny. There is no point fighting against it.”

There it was again, that fatalism so common in the Forgotten. Teyla couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She had hoped for more from Miruva. “That may be good enough for you,” she said, a little more strongly than she’d intended, “but it is not for me. We know nothing of the Banshees or their motives. We could have been brought here for all sorts of reasons, and they may not be good ones. In addition, my team is still out there. We cannot just rest and accept our fate. If there is a way back, I will find it.”

Miruva looked a little ashamed. “Of course,” she said, though without conviction. “Your destiny is not the same as ours. But where will you start? Some of these people have been here for several years. They’ve never found the way back.”

“They didn’t look hard enough,” said Teyla. “They believe what they have been told. But there was a way in, so there has to be a way out. I am going, before I get too used to all this comfort. Are you coming with me?”

Miruva looked tortured. “You’re going now? But we’ve only just arrived. It’s a lot to ask…”

“I am going. I will wait for you if you need time to make up your mind, but not for long. I will leave before nightfall. You have the choice.”

“Before nightfall,” said Miruva, clearly locked in thought. She began to turn away. “I will think it over.”

“You do that,” said Teyla, watching her walk away. In truth, she knew that she didn’t need Miruva’s help to escape, but she hoped the young woman would come with her. It would show some spark of defiance, give a sign that the Forgotten didn’t give into fate whenever they could.

Teyla sighed. Her hopes were not high. But she would wait all the same, just in case.

Sheppard and McKay broke into a run. The gate was some distance away and the snow made the going heavy. McKay felt his heart pounding, and not for the first time found himself wondering whether he should do some more to get in shape. It was getting a little tedious being left behind by grunts all the time. Right after that, he wondered whether running directly towards an ice sheet which was making cracking noises was such a great idea.

Thankfully, the noises abated as they arrived at their destination. The evidence of the tremor was easy to see. The Stargate was now standing at a pronounced angle, fresh cracks had opened up beneath its pedestal, and powder-fine snow was rapidly filling them. Sheppard looked at the off-center gate in dismay.

“This is bad,” he said. “ Really bad.”

“Now who’s heavy on the bad news?” said McKay, panting heavily. “But I do have to congratulate you on your powers of observation. The correct terminology, as I remarked earlier, is totally screwed .”

“I dunno,” said Sheppard. “I reckon I can squeeze a Jumper through there.”

McKay squinted at the Stargate. “If it stays where it is, maybe,” he said. “But we can’t have any more movement. In fact, I think we ought to get away from it. Now.”

The two of them gingerly retreated several meters from the leaning Stargate. Beneath them, the ice felt decidedly shaky.