Sonny Whitelaw: The Chosen

Sheppard gave a noncommittal shrug. “I just hope I didn’t dent the fender.”

“On this thing?” McKay said dismissively. “The jumpers have been demonstrated to be more or less indestructible. Not that I want to give them a stress test.”

“I meant the MALP. If it landed hard on the ‘gate room floor, you know that’ll be coming out of my paycheck.” Sheppard stretched his arms up over his head and cracked his knuckles. “You’re up, Rodney. Do your thing.”

McKay set his hands on the console to manipulate the craft’s sensors. “The troposphere extends about twenty-four kilometers above the surface. Let’s start at eighteen kilometers up.”

“Eleven miles it is,” the Major replied amiably. The conversion earned a huff of annoyance from McKay, which Aiden suspected was what Sheppard had intended. “What kind of scanning range have you got?”

“Plenty. We shouldn’t have to do too many orbits to cover the majority of the planet. Your role at present is simply to set us on a stable course. Of course, I suppose there’s no reason why I can’t do that myself—” McKay reached out to touch the panel, only to have his hand knocked aside by a glaring Sheppard.

“Okay,” said the Major, with exaggerated patience. “You’ve tried this once with the training wheels on, so good for you, but you’re not getting your mitts on a jumper in space until you’ve had a proper lesson.”

“And what wisdom do you have to impart that I haven’t already heard and mastered?” McKay wanted to know. “Straight and level — wasn’t that pretty much all there was to it?”

“As we just talked about, Rodney, things work a little differently in space.”

“I suppose you were an astronaut before coming to Atlantis?”

“No, but I do know enough about flying to perform a positive exchange of controls.” Sheppard fixed him with a stern look that suggested this lesson was non-negotiable. “It goes like this: the pilot in command says ‘You have the controls,’ and the other pilot repeats ‘I have the controls.’ Then, and only then, does he touch something. End of lesson.”

The scientist’s eyes narrowed. “This is yet another way of attempting to make me subservient to your authority, right? Real pilots don’t actually go through that rigmarole.”

“We sure as hell do — otherwise you can get conflicting control inputs, and that’s how bad days get started.”

“Fine, fine.” McKay retracted his hand. With a quiet grumble that might or might not have included the word ‘tyrant,’ he turned his full attention to the readouts in front of him. “The ‘gate appears to be in a geostationary orbit. I’d imagine that any civilization is located not far beneath us. That is, of course, if you’re willing to accept the term ‘beneath’, given that it’s space and all. Not much in the way of higher life forms yet…Hold that thought.”

“Have you found a native populace?” Teyla asked.

“Possibly. There’s a concentrated group of life signs down that way.” McKay pointed to the edge of a large land mass. “Assuming the planet rotates in the same direction as Earth, then it’s just after dawn. It’s the only reading I’m getting, so I suggest heading in that direction.”

“You’re the boss.”

The jumper’s flight path arced toward the indicated heading. McKay hunched over his readouts, his eyes crinkling in concentration. “I’d definitely call that a civilization. Thousands of distinct life signs, organized mostly among a set of structures perched on a basalt outcrop near the coast. In fact—” He fell silent while his fingers skipped over the console to call up a graphic on the head-up display. The screen showed groups of the white dots they’d come to recognize as human life signs hovering in and around a city-sized cluster of buildings. Though mostly contained within a massive encircling wall, other life signs were scattered in groups along the coastline and the countryside.

The sensors’ magnification capabilities were impressive, and McKay made good use of them. Except for one leafy area about the size of a football stadium, it looked to Aiden like the city had been carved out of the surrounding black rock. The buttressed walls of buildings were interconnected, with powerful, massive turrets melding it all into an imposing structure.

“Check it out.” Sheppard pointed to the monumental stonework and wide, sturdy walls. “This place was designed to take a pounding.”

McKay shook his head in undisguised awe. “If whatever society exists here is as archaic as some of that architecture looks, the sheer magnitude of all this is incredible.”

“Sorta like a cross between a monastery and a gigantic castle, surrounded by the Great Wall of China,” Aiden observed. For once, no one ridiculed his description.

“Complete with outer ramparts and — You gotta be kidding. Is that a moat?” The Major pointed to the display.

“It appears that a river has been diverted to flow around both sides of the hill,” McKay replied. “That was a startlingly bright move. Fresh water would be available at all times, even under a prolonged siege.”

“There’s more here than just the city.” Aiden leaned forward in his seat to examine the countryside and coastline now coming into view through the window. The land was dotted with farms and, where life signs were concentrated, villages. He couldn’t be certain from this height, but the objects in the harbor looked like they might have been boats. “Think they have much left over from when the Ancients were here?”

“Doesn’t look like the kind of thing the Ancients would go for.” Sheppard indicated the heavily fortified hill structure. “You’d only build something like this if you’re expecting a ground assault on a huge scale. Thing is, if this is the only civilization around, which sure looks likely going by the life signs, who’d be doing the attacking?”

“Everyone battles the Wraith,” Teyla said.

“Not like this. So far in our experience, the Wraith don’t come knocking on your front door. They strike from the air.”

“Maybe there were other civilizations,” Aiden ventured. “You know, in the past—”

“Hang on.” McKay interrupted, squinting at the screen. “Now that’s interesting.”

Aiden wondered if this was the kind of ‘interesting’ that involved some cool new tech or the kind that involved pissed-off natives taking target practice at them.

McKay, fortunately, wasn’t one to leave anything unsaid for long. “I’m getting some strong electromagnetic readings from the city. They just popped up, and they’re very patchy. Don’t descend any further,” he snapped.

“Why not?” Aiden asked.

“Because if we cross paths with one of those EM spikes, it’s another M7G-677.”

That reference was met with a blank stare from the Major.

“Really, how taxing is it to remember a simple six-digit identifier? The place with the marginally more civilized version of Lord of the Flies.”

Aiden was none the wiser. “I don’t get it.”

McKay shot him an exasperated look. “Children? Bows and arrows? The jumper doing its best impression of a glider? Would you like me to find a nice crayon and draw you a picture, Lieutenant?”

“Okay, kiddies, don’t make me turn this car around,” Sheppard warned, leveling off at about ten thousand feet. “Where’s the EM field originating?”

“There’s no central point of origin. They’re separate fields. The layout is mostly random, although largely concentrated over the western and southern sides of the city and immediate countryside.” McKay looked even more skeptical than usual. “If this is meant to be a protective shield, it’s a lousy design.”