Refusing to even think the word, he batted her hands aside and tried to rise from the bed, but she held him fast. "Please forgive me," she whispered urgently. "I meant no deceit. Your injuries were so very severe, your mind so filled with pain and suffering that I wanted to ease your distress until your health was restored. Now that you are gaining strength, let me tell you the complete truth, so you will see that I have no wish to manipulate you."
Rodney wasn't convinced, and he felt entitled to his suspicions. Between the incident with Cadman and the underwater hell that had left him questioning what was and wasn't real, his sense of control had taken a beating of late. Turpi had made him feel so many things he'd always locked carefully away, and if any of what she'd shown him had been false, he'd feel unspeakably violated. Even so, he sensed a genuine plea from her now. And what choice did he have at the moment? "I'm listening," he said finally. "Although I suppose you don't need me to tell you that."
"My father made no attempt to return you to the cliff-dwellers when he found you," Turpi confessed.
That unexpected honesty both reassured and alarmed him. But before he could explore the ramifications, she continued, "He had gone out in the storm to collect the abandoned, and assumed you were one of them. They are our purpose, you see. We create a loving environment for those cast out by the cliff-dwellers, and we help them to understand and make use of their abilities."
It was hardly the first time his immediate impression of a new culture had been completely off the mark. Nonetheless, he was still deeply disturbed by what Turpi had told him. Cliff-dwellers that indulged in infanticide and neighbors who blithely rummaged around in the one thing absolutely sacrosanct to him-his mind.
"The cliff-dwellers are not evil," Turpi continued, trying earnestly to convince him. "They mourn the loss of their children, and they do not wish to continue in this way. But which is the greater cruelty? To raise a child who will one day fall into madness and kill those who have loved her? To lock a child in a dark cell-where, in his madness, he will attempt to end his own life?"
"But don't the villagers know about you? There has to be a way to make Vene and the Elders understand."
"They do know of us. Their hatred and fear closes their minds to all our efforts. They will have nothing to do with us."
At that moment, the vaguely hazy sensation slipped from his mind, and Rodney became aware of the full extent of his physical condition. He was not only blind but almost certainly deaf as well. He cleared his throat. The vibrations were there but the resultant noise was dim. His breathing was easy, so his lungs had been fully restored, and his sense of smell and taste were there, and… Experimentally, he ran his tongue over the tooth he'd chipped earlier, only to find it intact and undamaged, and realization hit him in yet another sledgehammer blow. Surely their medicine wasn't that advanced, even if their grasp of science was strong. Either Turpi or her father, or possibly both, must possess healing powers to go along with the telepathy.
"It is as you surmise," she confirmed. "The same powers the Ancestors possessed."
So he really had been dying, and had been literally brought back by her touch. "What about my eyes and hands?"
"They are the hardest to heal and take the most time. Do you now believe that I do not deceive you? That I want only to help'?"
Rodney was a master at processing a dazzling array of information in short order, and so he instantly comprehended the true situation on Polrusso, Turpi's actions, and her reasoning. And, despite his own natural inclinations, he hadn't failed to notice that her voice was shy and hopeful. Even with the truth laid bare, her love was still there, still offered freely. "You know I do "
"Then sleep, my dearest. The more you rest, the sooner you will be strong enough to return to your people"
His people. They needed him, and he should be crawling to the door-assuming this place had a door-to help them. But then, from extreme clarity, his mind felt blanketed by cotton wool, fogged by a soft, comforting whiteness. He would get back to his team soon, when he was able. Right now, nothing mattered as much as listening to that lyrical voice, singing him to sleep.
Under the hand she'd placed on his chest, Turpi felt his breathing even out, and she began to relax as well. The depth and range of his emotions had been difficult to weather, but she felt sure that he understood and trusted her now. Such an amazing man, with such a great burden. She did not think she could have borne it if he had hated her.
To Polmssons, both defects and defenses were things to be seen on the surface, but this man wore his differently. She felt a kinship with him, seeing that his abilities had set him apart from others of his kind. Physically, he was whole and handsome, but he was damaged all the same. Unlike so many of the children whom she had fostered, whose parents loved them deeply and were emotionally devastated by having to abandon their young, Rodney had simply been neglected by parents who wallowed in their own hurt. Rejected by his childhood peers because of his great mind, desperate for recognition in his world, he had found friendship with his teammates. But not love, for he dared not lay himself open to that pain. He needed love like no other she had ever encountered, and so she wanted very much to show him that he need not feel alone.
Tenderly, she moved her hand in slow circles over his heart. Her healing abilities were limited to his body, but she would do all she could to heal his soul as well.
John had always had trouble bottling up his anger. Not emotionally; he'd elevated that to an art form. But physically he'd never been all that skilled at keeping his cool. To be able to maintain that perpetually laid-back facade for the world at large, there were times when he needed to fly, to run, to go to the gym and beat the crap out of something. Considering how lousy he felt at the moment, though, none of those things was going to happen in the foreseeable future, despite the way his infirmary stay had magnified his frustration. Instead, he alternated between lying down as instructed and getting up to throw personal items into a pair of standard-issue duffel bags.
Evacuation. After all the sacrifices they'd made for this city, they were going to be forced to run away.
It shouldn't have been necessary. Rodney should have been around to pull a technological rabbit out of his hat like always. Damn it, what would have been so wrong with allowing a rescue attempt? Worst case, John would be lost, too. Given that he couldn't fly and soon might no longer have Atlantis's Ancient tech to light up, would the expedition or the Air Force really suffer without him?
He could deal with Caldwell's distrust. It had been well earned, after all. They'd both taken the same oath to live by a set of principles. One of those principles was meant to be fundamentaclass="underline" those above commanded justly, and those below obeyed. Unfortunately, there were times when that tenet came into direct conflict with another, one he held in even higher regard: reliance on your comrades to do everything possible to bring you home.
And if Elizabeth had been the one on the other side of that blasted time dilation field for six months, slowly losing all sense of perspective, she would have understood just how important that reliance could be.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. John balled up his favorite sweatshirt and slung it toward the bag sitting on his bed. He'd been here before, figuratively speaking, a few years and a galaxy ago. That time, the life at stake had been a fellow pilot he'd just met at the start of their deployment, a man to whom he'd been bound only by a code of honor. This time he had the name and a face of a friend to put to the principle. In his mind, that made the decision all the more clear.