“If you could see it.”
“What?”
“If you could see it. How do the spectators see it?” Ronon asked.
Radek blinked.
“Look,” Ronon said. “A bunch of people go underground. They fight. Somebody comes out the other end. So what? That’s boring. It’s only interesting if you can see the fights.” He leaned on his elbows, his eyes on the sea. “On Sateda we had radio, just like you guys do. There were people who narrated sporting events on the radio so if you couldn’t get there you could hear what happened, but it wasn’t the same as being there. Five, ten thousand people would come out for big championships. Huge crowds. That was part of the fun, being there with your Kindred yelling for your champion. If nobody could see it? If it all happened underground and you never had any idea what was going on, just waited for somebody to come out? That’s not exciting.”
Radek nodded slowly, his eyes on Ronon’s face, his mind whirling. At last he said, “My friend, there is something very wrong here. Something on this world is not at all as it should be.”
Ronon looked at him sideways, curiously.
“They are not supposed to have the technology to do this, but they must have a way of seeing what is happening in the labyrinth.”
“They have cameras, like the Genii?”
“Maybe. That is not out of the question. We have seen that the Genii have achieved analog broadcast.” Radek looked around them, up at the mast and forward to the livestock on deck. “But do you see anything to suggest this society has that level of technology? Or that these people know anything about it?”
“No.” Ronon shook his head. “The Genii tech — it’s maybe fifteen or twenty years ahead of where we were on Sateda. Not a full generation. Your stuff is maybe a couple of generations. It’s better.”
Radek snorted. “You mean the stuff you’ve seen is. I did not grow up with this. Do you think we had cell phones and laptops in Czechoslovakia in 1980? I grew up in a house with a woodstove, and then one with a pre-war oil furnace. I did not see a computer except when I went to polytechnique. Nobody had computers at home, not even in the West. In the East? Perhaps a great university would have them. We had the radio and the streetcar. If you were very lucky you might have a TV, and then if you could make the rabbit ears work for you, you might pick up German broadcast television.” Radek smiled. “The station in Nuremburg showed Star Trek in reruns. That is how I saw it, grainy from the mountains, on a black and white television set. But we did not have these things. I was not running around with my laptop talking on my headset then. There is hardly a moment in time of difference between the technology I grew up with and that which you did.”
Ronon blinked. “I thought you guys had all this stuff.”
“It is all new.” Radek shrugged. “Even the Americans did not grow up with all this, though they had more tech in their homes in the West than we had. And much of what you are seeing, Ronon, is Ancient technology. We’ve had it a year, and some of it we can make work. Lots we cannot yet.” He looked out to sea once more. “But it is wrong and you have found it. They must have some way of watching the games. And if they do, they are lying about a great deal, like the Genii, or…”
“Or we’re in a lot of trouble,” Ronon said.
Chapter Seventeen
The merchant ship did not so much glide into the port of the Holy Island as creep, sails reefed and oars out, making its way very slowly through the heavy traffic. Two great stone quays shielded the harbor filled with smaller boats, while above on the steep hillsides of the town, buildings clustered. The ones nearest the water were somewhat ramshackle houses of wood, but the ones higher up were stone, with painted columns and wide porches offering vistas of the sea that must be simply stunning. The highest tiers were reserved for palaces and temples, bright with red and gold paint. The symmetry and beauty reminded Radek of the Dalmatian coast, or possibly of how the islands of Greece must have looked in their heyday. He had never been to the islands, but perhaps it was like this — tier upon tier set in lavish greenery, while beneath it the blue sea glittered in the sun.
Certainly the scene looked like a spectacle out of Plutarch. Beside the largest quay, a massive galley with scarlet canopies was tying up while musicians played a fanfare. Soldiers marched off in gilded array, spears catching the sunlight, headdresses sparkling with gold. In their midst a number of officials walked, shaded by fans held by half-naked servants. Behind, in procession between lines of guards, others walked to the music of drums.
“What is all that?” Radek asked the captain.
“Tribute ship,” the captain said, glancing across the water. “From King Anados of Pelagia, to tell by the markings. The Pelagians always put on a fine show! They’re very rich, and the king likes everyone to know it. Of course that means their tribute is more too, so it’s not all good.”
It was indeed spectacular. Radek expected pacing cheetahs any second. It was something, he thought, to see these things as so few on Earth ever did, to see things that no one would believe even if he could ever speak of them. There was a bit to be said for going off world, really.
“Who are those people?” Radek asked, gesturing to the cluster of assorted people at the back of the procession between guards.
“Tribute,” the captain said. “They’re contestants in the Games.” He shrugged and went back to yelling incomprehensible nautical things at the sailors, who were trying to bring the merchant ship in to a smaller dock.
Ronon came and stood beside Radek. “Impressive,” he said.
“Those are contestants,” Radek said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. “But something is not right there. That boy is very young. And that old woman? Surely she is not an athlete? It does not seem likely that she has wagered her life on a contest in a labyrinth.”
“They haven’t,” Ronon said flatly.
“Who?” Radek put his glasses back on again.
“There,” Ronon said, pointing, but the gesture was hardly necessary.
Toward the back of the procession among the others were two unmistakable figures — Sheppard and Teyla.
“Don’t react,” Ronon said, squeezing his arm.
“Right.” It was good to see them alive and in one piece — at least they seemed to be in one piece, walking bareheaded up the street in their black BDUs. Sheppard had a white bandage over one eye, but they did not seem badly hurt. Radek had begun to wonder if they were dead, and had troubled himself in the night keeping that thought at bay. Not dead, and not badly injured. But just as surely prisoners. The guards around them carried spears and they seemed watchful.
“They must have been captured,” Ronon said.
Radek nodded. “And something is not right. You had a good point about seeing the contest, and this…” He shook his head. “We must find out what is going on here.”
“We need to rescue them,” Ronon said.
“Of course we do,” Radek said. “But first we must find out what is happening. All is not as it appears, and we must not walk into a trap. If we do, we will not be able to help them or ourselves.”
Ronon’s brows rose and fell. “Excuses?”
Radek sighed. “Do you think I am such a coward as to just leave them? Is that what you have decided?”
Ronon regarded him steadily for a moment. “No,” he said. “You’re ok.”
“I am glad you think so. And I am not suggesting for a moment that we leave them. But we must think how to do this. We are in the middle of a strange city, and they are surrounded by guards. We have no weapons except your pistol, and no way off the island. The games do not start until tomorrow, and Colonel Sheppard and Teyla are both strong. We must do this by stealth, Ronon, so that we have the best chance of success. It will do them no good if we are merely captured as well.”