SGA-14 Death Game Page 13

  Chapter Fourteen

  Teyla woke to the bolt on the door being drawn back and was on her feet before it opened. John stood by the table and, while he made no sudden move, she saw his feet shift quietly into a guard position. A chair was not a bad weapon under the circumstances, if such became necessary.

  Unsurprisingly, it was Tolas.

  “Let me guess,” John said. “The King will see us now.”

  “No.” Tolas looked serious, as though he hadn’t realized that might have been supposed to be funny. “The King acknowledges that your visit is important, but he is unable to meet with visitors during the Great Festival of Renewal.”

  “Oh for the love of…” John started.

  “We understand that there are times and places that are inappropriate,” Teyla said swiftly. “How long is this festival and when will the King meet with us?”

  “It is three days,” Tolas said, “And the King already left last night for the Holy Island.”

  John rolled his eyes. “Just like us to get here on a holiday weekend when all the bigwigs are out of town.”

  “It is three days to play the Games of Life,” Tolas said. “It is our most sacred festival, celebrating our compact with the gods. The High King will be there, as will our King Anados, and all the other kings of the world. Together they will renew their oaths of peace and friendship to one another, and their fealty to the High King. Together they will celebrate the Gift of Life that the gods bestow upon us.”

  “Some kind of Olympics?” John looked sideways at her. “Ok, so a big festival and all the brass there.”

  “All of the kings will be present,” Tolas confirmed. “There to renew their vows of brotherhood and to present their lands’ tribute to the High King. It is he who governs the world, and it is to him you should appeal if you do, as you say, represent another world entirely. The High King, the representative of the gods themselves, is the one who has the authority to treat with you. If our King Anados did hear and approve your requests, you would still have to make them again to the High King. So it seems best to me to send you along to the Holy Island where the gods dwell, that you might without delay make your pleas to the High King and all the kings assembled in pious celebration of the Games of Life.”

  “Cutting out the middle man,” John said. “Fine. We’ll go talk directly to the High King. But how are we supposed to get there?”

  “Fortunately, the tribute ship has not yet sailed,” Tolas said smoothly. “I have had it held in the harbor pending your arrival. It will not even be a full day’s journey to the Holy Island, and you will travel in all comfort as passengers on the tribute ship.”

  “We have only the greatest thanks for your consideration of our comfort,” Teyla said diplomatically.

  “That sounds super,” John said with a friendly smile, but she thought there was something in his tone that didn’t exactly match his words. Maybe she imagined it, as he seemed all affability and charm. Or perhaps that was the problem in itself. When he smiled that way something was badly wrong. She had seen that smile before. “Shall we get started?”

  It was the work of a moment to gather up their jackets and a few other small things. They followed Tolas and his careful honor guard through the corridors of the palace and across the wide plaza that separated the palace from the city. John said nothing, though she could see from his watchful stance that he was looking for something.

  An opening for escape? That seemed unlikely in a foreign city surrounded by guardsmen. What was he looking for? Unfortunately, Teyla could not read his mind but only follow his cues. For the moment at least he seemed determined to play along with this.

  It was not yet hot, and the city was bright and clean in the morning, white walls and streets washed down with water and just starting to dry in the sun. A cool breeze came off the harbor. It lifted her hair on her brow gently. It came to Teyla that she had, in the entirety of her life, never stood in a city so big.

  In terms of size it was not as big as Atlantis, but Atlantis was nearly empty. The not quite four hundred people of the expedition, even swollen as that number was since contact with Earth was reestablished, disappeared into the city’s vastness like nothing. They might give a building to each person and still have left over. Each person on the expedition might have a palace of fifty rooms, and there would still be city to explore. As it was, they clustered nervously in a few towers together, but even so by Teyla’s standards their quarters were palatial. Each person, regardless of their rank, might have a room of their own and a private bath. Some had balconies, sitting rooms, views of sky and sea that showed vast vistas. And each had running water at a touch, temperatures that suited them exactly, lights and windows that opened at their will.

  Teyla had never imagined so much room. Her own bath, with its twin showerheads and golden tiles, was a luxury beyond compare. She did not think the Earth people were used to it either, or Rodney would not go on about garden tubs and choice real estate. Even by their standards, Atlantis was sumptuous. The Ancients had taken for granted unbelievable comfort.

  And yet they stood in danger every moment. There was something surreal about being besieged in a palace. There was something disorienting about watching the sky light up with the Wraith bombardment, energy flaring against the shield, while one had clean hot baths and elegant chambers, soaring architecture and good food. There was something decidedly disorienting about fighting for one’s life with hand and knife in beautiful and pristine places, stalking death through spacious white rooms.

  These things belonged in darkness, in underground shelters where one went to earth like the prey animal one was, only to be hauled out at last, filthy and starved, to be food. One could almost expect it, then.

  She wondered if the Ancients had. She wondered if, in their pride and their luxury, they had ever really understood that they were defeated. If they could possibly have understood that the future lay not in their clever and mannered civilization, but in the hands of their human children scrabbling in the dirt, left to the Wraith.

  Compared to the majesty of Atlantis, Pelagia was primitive. And yet she had never been in a city with so many people. There might be half a million people in the city. That almost made Teyla’s head spin. Half a million was the population of a healthy planet. She could not imagine that there had ever been half a million Athosians in the entire world. Perhaps stronger worlds like Sateda had boasted populations in the millions, before the Wraith decimated them, but she had never set foot there. She had never breathed the same air as half a million people. She was not Ronon, who understood cities and the kind of people who lived in them.

  It was almost claustrophobic. On some level, the idea of so many people assembled raised the hairs on the back of her neck. It was asking for the Wraith. It was providing an irresistible temptation. To put so much food so close at hand, clustered like fruit on a vine for the taking…

  How could this world not have been Culled? It was impossible.

  She found herself walking closer to John, as though staying in his shadow possessed some virtue. He glanced aside and saw it, reassurance in the slight lift of one eyebrow as if he had put a hand on her shoulder. Yes, he was disturbed too. And no, this was not the time. He was determined to play this out, and she must as well.

  Together, they went up the gangway onto one of the ships, Tolas beckoning them aboard before him politely.

  Three massive banks of oars waited in their ports. Above, the stern deck was fitted out with a canopy that let the sea breeze in while providing shade. Tolas and the dignitaries repaired to the cabin, while John and Teyla were escorted to the stern deck. A servant came around with bread and fruit, and they sat on the bench that ran around the edge of the deck while the ship cast off. The oars beat in unison to the sound of a drum as the ship moved out into the open water, making for the harbor entrance, and John frowned.

  Teyla took a bite of her fruit, moist and cool in the bright daylight. “Yes?”

  “Galley s
laves?” He looked forward, but they could see nothing. The rowers benches were below decks. Who the rowers were, and what their conditions were, could not be seen.

  “There are probably slaves,” Teyla said. “I do not see how they could build all this otherwise.”

  “Yeah.” John frowned again. “It kind of goes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

  “I do not like it either,” Teyla said. “But when there is much wealth and less technology it seems inevitable.”

  “You’ve seen it before in this galaxy?” John looked at her, his hand hesitating over the bread in the basket.

  “Yes.” Teyla took another bite of fruit. “There are many worlds and many ways in the Pegasus Galaxy, John, and you will not like many of them. There are worlds where the sons of the poor are castrated and worlds where women live in seclusion. There are worlds where one may be executed for failing to worship the right god or failing in obedience to one’s chief. There are worlds where I am an abomination and worlds where I am a goddess. You will find that every way that humans can live is tried by someone, somewhere.”

  “An abomination or a goddess?” His mouth twitched, as though trying to get his head around the thought.

  “Oh yes.” Teyla looked out across the busy harbor, little boats paddling away from their wake as they cleared the breakwater. Ahead, the sea stretched azure and calm. Tolas had gone in the cabin, and no one else seemed close enough to hear. “My Gift has its place on Athos. But most of the others who suffered the same fate as my ancestor were killed, remember? People would not allow them to live among them, different as they were, touched by the Wraith.” She took a deep breath. She had spoken of this to no one in the months since the origin of her Gift had become clear, not even to Dr. Kate Heightmeyer. But John was a stranger to their ways. The hatred of the Wraith did not go bone deep within him. Other prejudices, other hatreds perhaps. But not this one. “You do not understand, John. You do not know how it is.”

  “You’re saying if people knew about your Gift you’d be in danger,” he said.

  Teyla pushed her hair back from her face, looked into the eye of the wind. “I am saying that in some places I would be killed. Not among Athosians. There, I am different, and perhaps there are some who would recoil if they knew where the Gift came from, as Charin and my father feared. They would not kill me, certainly. But there are places where I should be burned alive.”

  She heard John take a deep breath. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I certainly do not intend for it to,” Teyla said evenly. “But I also do not speak of my Gift outside of Atlantis and outside of my people.” She looked at him. John sat tight lipped, as always fiercely protective of his friends. “I am fortunate,” she said. “The ways in which I am different do not show in my face.”

  He nodded slowly, the sea breeze pulling at his hair. “I get that,” he said.

  “Perhaps you do,” she said. There was always something of the outcast about John, no matter how well he tried to fit in. “I am a bad Athosian,” she said.

  “Bad?” He took up a fruit and looked at her over it. “Everybody likes you.”

  Teyla laughed. “Oh, I wish that were so! In any group there are currents and counter currents, jealousies and gossip and trouble. We are no different or more virtuous than any other group of human beings! Admittedly right now I have a good amount of what you might call social capital, but I am not a good Athosian.”

  “What’s a good Athosian?” John looked bemused.

  “Is it so easy to define your people?” Teyla put her feet up on the bench in front of her. “I will try, though.” She looked out to sea and her face sobered. “We marry. We all marry, husband and wife tied together in work. We all marry, and we all have children. I am thirty four and childless, John, and it is a long, long time since I was married.”

  “I didn’t know you were married,” he said.

  Teyla shrugged. “Why should you know that? It ended long ago, long before your people came to Athos. But I have never Chosen another, and that is unusual.”

  “Being divorced sucks,” John said. He took a bite of the fruit, his eyes avoiding hers entirely. “But so does being married.”

  “I am not the kind of woman who marries,” Teyla said. “I am Teyla Who Walks Through Gates. I do not have room in my life for someone. I am too selfish, at the heart of it.”

  “You’re not the only one,” John said. “It’s kind of a disaster. You know. People wanting things and being disappointed.”

  “There are things I do not have to give,” she said. “It is better to make no promises I do not intend to keep.”

  “It’s better not to make a lot of promises.” John lifted his hand to shade his eyes, looking ahead to the sea, squinting.

  “Your sunglasses,” she reminded.

  “Oh, right.” He got them out of his pocket and put them on. “I think there are some other ships out there.”

  “There probably are. If this is a major festival, it would not surprise me if there were ships converging from all the islands and ports,” Teyla said. She did not glance around, as that would draw attention, but she already knew there was no one close by. “And I do not like this. Something is wrong here, John. Something is badly wrong.”

  “I know.” His expression didn’t change and he didn’t look at her. Anyone observing would think they still spoke of other things. “There’s no way the Wraith haven’t discovered this world, as much stuff as they’ve got. You remember Olesia, right?”

  Teyla tried not to twitch. “Since that was a week and a half ago, yes.”

  “Elizabeth thinks that the Magistrate had some kind of deal with the Wraith. That it wasn’t just that the Wraith took the first humans they ran into, the prisoners on the island, but that they actually had a deal about it. The Olesians gave some people to the Wraith in return for the rest being left alone.” John looked out to sea, unreadable behind his sunglasses. “Nice deal if you can get it, I guess.”

  “Like the warren of bones in Watership Down, the book you gave me,” Teyla said, making a connection. “Where the rabbits know there are snares in the grass but nobody ever talks about it. Nobody ever mentions the ones who’ve been taken.” She grimaced. “We are wild rabbits, we Athosians, all risking the same dangers. At least that way our hands are clean of one another’s blood.”

  “Yeah.” John’s mouth was set in a grim line beneath the shades. “That. I’m starting to wonder what the deal is here.”

  “You think it’s something like that?” It made sense. Teyla could see how it might be. “Tolas is definitely hiding something, but I would guess that most of the Pelagians don’t know, anymore than most of the Olesians did.”

  “The answers are on that island ahead of us,” John said, gesturing with his chin. “This business about a High King and games in honor of the gods. The Games of Life?”

  “What if the gods are Wraith?” Teyla blurted. She stopped, thinking about it.

  John nodded slowly. “It makes sense. We’ve seen that before, back in the Milky Way. Alien predators setting themselves up as gods to get a never ending stream of stuff without having to do any work. Only in this case, the tribute isn’t stuff. It’s people.”

  “Food for the gods,” Teyla breathed.

  “I’ll bet you my last cigar,” John said.

  “What is a cigar?”

  “Never mind.” He shook his head. “Why run around Culling when they can sit on their asses and have the locals bring them tribute? Lazy bastards don’t even have to get up and do any work.”

  Teyla smiled grimly. “We, at least, make them work for it.”

  “They’ve got the technology to carry off the god thing. You’ve got to have a big technological gap to do that. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,” John quoted.

  “Who said that?”

  “A guy on Earth named Arthur C. Clarke. The Wraith have that kind of advantage here, and it’s the perfect place to do
it. It’s got a big population, but unlike Sateda these people don’t have the technology to get it. Ronon would see through their stuff and know it was Wraith tech, not magic. You couldn’t pull that kind of scam there. You couldn’t pull it on the Genii. But these guys aren’t there. They could get by with it.”

  Teyla leaned on the ship’s rail. “So now we are being taken to the gods.”

  “They’re not sure whether we’re the real thing or not,” John said. “If we really are from another planet, the Wraith will want to question us. If we’re not…” He shrugged. “We’re tasty and crunchy.”

  “I will know,” she said. “I will know when we are close enough if you are right and there are Wraith here.”

  John nodded seriously. “That will give us an advantage. We know what they are, but they don’t know what we are. They’ll think we’re just more little rabbits.”

  “Not El-ahrairah himself.” Teyla could not help but smile. “O prince of rabbits!”

  He glanced at her sideways. “I hope I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeves.”

  “We have the radio,” she said.

  “And we know Wraith tech. They don’t know that we know it. That’s a big thing.” John put his elbows on the rail and leaned beside her, as if also admiring the view of the sea. “We need to wait for the right opening, gather the intel and make the move when we’re ready.”

  “Hopefully that will be with Lorne and a squad of Marines behind us,” Teyla said.

  “Hopefully.” John lifted his head, looking toward the distant horizon. “I hope Zelenka and Ronon are doing ok.”

  “So do I,” she said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Radek and Ronon watched as the ship came closer, leaving off waving their arms when it became clear that the ship had seen them and altered its course to intercept them. As it came nearer, they had a better look at it. It was most probably a merchant ship. A single bank of ten oars on each side swept in time, and it was low and not particularly streamlined. An upper deck perched awkwardly astern laden with cargo lashed on with ropes, while on the forward deck a bunch of small livestock in crude cages made a variety of alarmed noises. Some of them looked like pygmy goats.