“Can you see what she’s doing?” Teyla kept her voice a thread of sound, the just-above-a-whisper that carried only to the ears for which it was intended.
Kneeland edged past her, adjusting the goggles. “It looks like she’s — climbing something? Maybe to some kind of platform?”
He shifted to bring the P90 to bear, and Teyla frowned into the darkness. They were too far from the Satedan settlement for this to be a firing point — and Sora had not been armed at the meeting, though, of course, she could have weapons stored in the broken tower. She turned to look over her shoulder, trying to imagine the sight lines in daylight. From the tower, you would probably have a view of the gate, as well as of the settlement’s main square: an observation post, then, or most likely so.
“Is there anyone else present?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” Kneeland said. “Just her.”
Teyla sat back on her heels, wondering what to do. John should be informed, and Cai — perhaps Ladon also, it would be a suitable embarrassment — but she did not want to leave Sora unwatched, nor was she sure radio traffic would go unheard —
There was a sudden crack, not very loud, but sharp and sudden. The tower moved, the stones tilting, and abruptly the whole thing tipped sideways in a rumble of stone and wood. There were a couple of smaller, sharper sounds, hard flat noises like a blow, and then silence.
“Holy crap!” Kneeland said, and started to his feet. “Ma’am, she’s still in there — ”
Damn the woman, Teyla thought. “Is she still alive, can you tell?”
“No — ” Kneeland was scanning the wreckage, the goggles making him look like a monster from some fireside tale. “Wait, yes, ma’am, I can see her moving.”
“Then we must help her,” Teyla said firmly. “But be careful.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kneeland said, and moved forward.
There was no point in concealment now. Teyla reached into her pocket, found the small flashlight she always carried, and let the beam play over the pile of rubble. Most of the wall had fallen outward into the street, stone and brick mingled with new wood — reinforcing beams, she guessed, for the observation post. And yes, it almost certainly had been precisely that: her light picked out the cylinder of a telescope, front lens missing, and the leg of its tripod jutted from among the stones.
Kneeland flicked on the light attached to his P90, joined its beam to hers. “Damn.”
Teyla winced in sympathy. The building had had a cellar, and when the reinforcement gave way, at least part of the makeshift tower had fallen into that space. The air was hazed with dust, bright in the flashlight’s beams, but nothing else moved. “Sora?”
“There.” Kneeland had pushed the IR goggles up onto his forehead, swung the P90’s light to focus on the edge of the gap. A pale hand clung to the edge of a beam, and then another reached up, scrabbled for purchase on the wood.
Without thinking, Teyla flung herself onto the ground, spreading her body to make herself as heavy as possible, and reached for the groping hand. “Here!”
Sora’s hand closed on hers, and then released it as though she’d been burned. Teyla grabbed for her wrist instead, caught and held, feeling the younger woman’s weight in her shoulders and back.
“Let go!” Sora glared up at her, face filthy and smeared with blood, swung her feet, groping for a toehold.
“I should,” Teyla said. “Be still, and we will get you out.”
Sora didn’t answer, instead shifted her grip on the beam, reaching again for a foothold. Teyla gasped, feeling her fingers slip.
“Don’t be stupid — ”
“Ma’am!” Kneeland swung his light. “Look there!”
Teyla tried to turn her head, but the strain was too much. “What is it?”
“Something — explosives, I think.” The light moved, flicking from spot to spot, but Teyla still couldn’t see. Sora was twisting again, and it took all her strength to keep her grip. “God, ma’am, don’t let her fall!”
Sora was abruptly still, staring blindly up at them. Teyla tightened her grip, digging her toes into the dirt.
“It’s a trap,” Kneeland said. He dropped to his knees at Teyla’s side, slinging the P90 out of his way, and reached for Sora’s other hand. “If she falls, she’ll set the rest of it off.”
For a second, Teyla thought Sora was going to let go, pull herself out of their hands and kill them all. She could see the thought in the younger woman’s eyes, and saw the moment when it passed, and Sora wrapped her free hand around Kneeland’s wrist. Together they hauled her up and out, dragged her gasping onto the pile of rubble. She looked terrible, Teyla thought, covered in dust and blood — but the blood was from her nose, and she moved easily enough as she dragged herself to a sitting position.
“So much for peaceful negotiations,” she said.
“Hey, now.” Kneeland had his P90 in hand again, was cautiously examining the pit.
“You cannot seriously think we did this,” Teyla said.
Sora pressed the back of her hand against her upper lip, glaring, and said nothing.
“If we had done it,” Teyla said, “it would have worked. That I promise you.”
“And we would have used C4,” Kneeland said. “That stuff isn’t ours.”
Teyla looked where the light pointed, saw a fist-sized sphere tied to a beam. She took out her flashlight again, found two more packages, and looked back at Sora.
“That is Genii explosive. And only your own people knew of this post. Can you tell me you have no enemies among your men?”
Sora took a deep breath, looking suddenly old and tired. “Not among my men,” she said. She took her hand away, and sniffed hard as though deciding if the nosebleed had stopped. “This can’t be.”
In spite of everything, Teyla felt a thread of sympathy. She remembered Sora as a girl just coming into adolescence, eager for stories of the worlds beyond the Stargate. And that farmgirl was pretense, she reminded herself, a lie deliberately contrived to protect the Genii while they built their armies and their nuclear bombs.
“It’s a trick,” Sora said, without conviction. “You used our explosives to make it seem like our people did it.”
“And how would we get your supplies?” Teyla asked. “We could have used a tiny bit of C4, and no one would ever have known that it wasn’t just an accident.”
Sora didn’t answer, just looked away, wincing as though something pained her.
“Are you all right?” Kneeland asked. He kept the P90 ready, but reached one-handed for his pocket. “I’ve got a first aid kit — ”
“I’m fine,” Sora said. “It’s just bruises.”
“It is Ladon who has done this,” Teyla said, sitting back on her heels.
“The Chief would never — ”
“You are an embarrassment to him.” Teyla cut through the words as though she hadn’t spoken, feeling the truth strike home. “A danger to his plans. This is his solution, an unfortunate accident that he can blame on your own carelessness.”
“If Ladon Radim wanted to get rid of me, he’d have me arrested,” Sora said. Her voice was bitter. “There’s no one who’d bother stopping him now.”
Kneeland shone his light into the cellar again, shook his head silently. Teyla said, “Do you wish to survive this?”
“That’s unlikely,” Sora said, with a thin smile.
“Survival and revenge,” Teyla said.
“And how can you give me that?”
She had known that would appeal. Teyla said, “You have luckily survived a frightening accident. We came upon a collapsed building and heard you call — perhaps you strayed there seeking a short cut to your camp? A tragedy narrowly averted — it would be a shame if anything were to happen after you were so providentially rescued.”