As he worked, he glanced at Mara now and then and smiled. She wouldn’t be happy if she knew what he was really doing and she might be inclined to stop him. He wasn’t sure how far to trust her, and decided this wasn’t the time to test his limits. Luckily, she was distracted by the various sounds emanating from the hallway.
She kept her ear pressed to the door. “Are you finding what you need?”
“Yes. Almost done.”
The shield controls weren’t encrypted, and he supposed there’d be no reason for that kind of security — who would want to covertly take them down from inside a city that had spent millennia hiding from the galaxy? However, he did notice a set of alarm protocols set to alert Saul when the shield had been deactivated — in case, he supposed, he was having too much fun to notice. It only took a couple of keystrokes to toggle the alarms off and silently drop the shield. It was a risk, but calculated and minimal. With the surface temperature rising and the Entertainment in full swing, he doubted anyone was topside to notice the shield drop. Or, frankly, to care.
Satisfied, he logged out of the shield controls and returned to the weapons page. He went over them once more, so he’d know enough to make it seem as if he’d studied them, and then logged off the terminal. He rose and crossed to the door. The shield was down, the message had been sent to Atlantis; all he had to do now was bust his team out of jail and get the hell out of Dodge before the moon’s surface started to cook. Piece of cake.
“I have everything I need,” he whispered, tapping Mara on the shoulder.
She started a bit, and then smiled. “Good. Let’s get out of here before the doctor comes back.” She turned the lock on the door and nearly pulled it open before thinking better of it. “Wait!”
She hurried to a nearby cabinet and flung the door open, studying the contents for good measure. On the top shelf was a small box and she grabbed it, pulling from it a rather large bandage. She peeled the backing from it and slapped it onto Sheppard’s jaw with a smile.
“Ow! Hey!” He recoiled from the blow. “What’d you do that for?”
“Effect. Come on! Let’s get out of here.” She pulled open the door and stood aside.
“I think you just like hurting me.” He stepped through the door and turned toward the hallway.
They were nearly to the outer door of the medical facility when the doctor stepped into the room. “I thought your friend needed medical attention.”
“Oh, he did,” Mara chirped. “I took care of it.” She spun Sheppard around and pointed to the bandage. “See? Good as new.”
The doctor frowned and nodded. “I see,” he said. Then he glanced around the room almost dejectedly. “I supposed, at this point, it really doesn’t matter.”
“You should go to the arena and watch,” Mara said. “The First Woard was killed. This is no place to meet the grand finale, and really, who is going to come here for medical aid this night? Or ever?”
“You’re right,” the man said. He dropped the clipboard he was carrying and turned to the door, hurrying away.
Sheppard smiled weakly and shrugged, then stepped into the hall after him.
“Good thinking,” he said.
“I meant what I said,” Mara shrugged. “No one should reach the end of their life alone, and there’s no reason for him to be here. Let’s get moving.”
They hurried back up toward the main levels, taking a series of side passages on the off chance that Saul was paying attention to them and planned to stop them. They encountered no one. With the exception of the arena, Admah was silent.
Chapter Twenty-six
Zelenka sat hunched over his console, his fingers operating the controls delicately. On the monitor, the signal he’d discovered danced in and out of a larger sine wave pattern. Meticulously, he removed one frequency at a time, checking it against the earlier signals that had not contained the static. He needed to use the original as a filter, remove everything that was not the static and leave behind only the new, odd signal.
As time passed, he intensified his concentration. He didn’t know how he knew but somehow he did — Rodney was behind this. That stray bit of frequency shift held some sort of message, or a clue how to help, and Zelenka was determined to figure out what it was. He wouldn’t have admitted it if challenged, but half the reason he was so determined was that he didn’t want anyone saying Rodney had sent him a message he wasn’t capable of deciphering.
He turned a final knob very slowly. The signal wavered, and then the background carrier disappeared.
“Yes!” he said.
He pulled back quickly, saved the signal, and transferred it to another screen. His fingers trembled as he started to play the signal through. The screen immediately filled with a short burst of text, followed by numbers. Zelenka read, memorized, and then transferred the message to Woolsey’s terminal. Before the transfer was complete, he’d turned away and was on the move.
Woolsey looked up as Zelenka burst through his door, hair wilder than normal and eyes wide.
“Did you see?”
“See what? You could have — ”
“We don’t have time,” Zelenka interrupted.
Woolsey sat back, confused. “We don’t have time for what?”
“On your terminal. I’ve sent you a file,” Zelenka said. “Rodney found a way to get through. He sent us a message and coordinates. We have to start.”
Frowning, Woolsey turned to his terminal. He found the message Zelenka had sent, opened it, and read quickly. He didn’t pause to memorize.
“Mobilize the backup team. Get extra security up to join them. We don’t know what might be waiting on the other side of that gate.”
“Yes sir,” Zelenka turned and disappeared.
Woolsey sat a moment, watching the empty doorway, and then turned to his console. He keyed communications system and waited a moment.
“Yes sir?” a voice reported immediately.
“Have you had any luck reaching the Daedelus?”
“Yes sir. They have received your message and they have altered course. They have informed us that it is unlikely they will be able to reach Admah before it is destroyed, but they are making all possible speed for the attempt.”
“Thank you.” Woolsey said, disconnecting the communicator and rising slowly.
Straightening the papers on his desk, he stepped out of his office and into the passageway beyond. He picked up speed as he made his way toward the control room, and by the time he reached the elevator and the final hatch his expression was resolute. There would be very little time for consultation or discussion. He was going to have to direct the coming operation, and whatever the outcome he was going to have to take responsibility. He knew the regulations, and he knew the laws and codes behind them. When he’d first come to Atlantis, he’d believed this to be more than adequate — the perfect qualification for command.
At that moment, however, stepping into the control room and finding himself the focus of all those on the backup team, those at the control consoles, and those who had gathered to lend their support, he understood what Colonel Sheppard must feel every time he led his team through the Stargate. The responsibility was total.
Woolsey moved quickly and with as much confidence as he could muster to the DHD, where Zelenka and a couple of lab assistants were gathered. “Do you have the coordinates?”