Radek rose, caught her eye, and ambled over to place a hand on her arm and give a sheepish little smile. "I'm sorry, SisElizabeth. I never meant to overstep the line or question your authority. I'm just concerned about all this." He waved toward the opening of the grotto and the storm raging in the darkness beyond. "I-"
"I know, Radek." And she did.
Like all the others, he had no recollection of how they'd ended up here, but ever since Elizabeth, who did remember all too clearly, had made the mistake of telling them, Radek firmly believed that Charybdis lingered and was sentient. The possibility couldn't be discounted, considering that Ikaros had joined with his creation. But if Charybdis was indeed sentient, as Radek argued, then it would attempt to preserve itself and interpret any attempt to reset the four-dimensional structure it had established as threat. One such threat, he insisted, were people skipping from one timeline to another as the Johns and the alternate Elizabeth had done.
"Would you mind if I join you?" he asked.
The question rattled her, because it threw into relief how far they'd drifted apart. "Radek, there is no my people and your people. We're a community. Of course you're welcome to join."
It brought another sheepish grin. "Merely a figure of speech." He squinted into the darkness. "It's close to dinner time, I guess. Sister Dawn plans to cook vegetable stew. Our… guests… must be hungry, and perhaps they'd like some food and tea. Consider it a peace offering."
Nobody with functional taste buds would mistake Sister Dawn's culinary efforts for anything of the sort, but Elizabeth decided to accept the offer in the spirit in which it was made. Detente. "That's very kind, Radek. Yes, I'm sure they'd like dinner. So would everybody else, I guess. It's been a long day."
"Yes, it has. I'll let her know." He trotted off to where Dawn was scraping out an old drum that had been converted to a cauldron.
As Elizabeth approached her new charges she could feel the heat of the small campfire and was grateful for it. The wood had gotten wet, and the smoke hung like a black, swirling canopy beneath the ceiling of the grotto. Just outside the flickering halo cast by the fire, she stopped for a moment and watched, if only to reaffirm to herself that she had done the right thing by refusing to turn them away. Confused and frightened, her double was in no condition to go anywhere, and John-the pair of him-plain worried her.
So what else was new?
She smiled despite herself, realizing somewhat to her surprise that she'd actually missed worrying about him. But there was worrying and then there was worrying, and with that trite realization her smile died. If they were on Earth-or on their Atlantis for that matter-Major Sheppard's leg would bump him off flight status permanently, and as for Colonel Sheppard, he looked ready to pass out. Not for the first time she wished that it had been Carson Beckett rather than Radek who'd ended up marooned in this place with her.
Yes, Elizabeth, and you can go right on wishing until you're blue in the face. It won't change one damn thing.
With that bracing thought she stepped up to the fireside. The Sheppards interrupted their inconspicuous observation of the goings-on over by the other campfire, and Elizabeth's double looked up at her, frowning in bewilderment.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
Seeing yourself lose your faculties was disconcerting, to say the least. Elizabeth swallowed a gasp, pasted on a lopsided grin. "We've met."
Colonel Sheppard cast another glance at the second campfire, then gazed back at her and cocked his head. "Sorry about stirring up trouble, Elizabeth. I take it you've managed to smooth things out a little?"
She crouched, leaned forward, and spread her hands over the flames, soaking in the warmth. "They're afraid," she said softly. "Some of them, including Dr. Zelenka, have invested Charybdis with godlike powers, even if they wouldn't quite put it that way. They believe this storm was caused by Charybdis because it doesn't want you here. It's fighting back."
"It's entropy," Major Sheppard said dryly, massaging his leg. "Though if you want to describe it as the wrath of God, that's probably not too far off."
"How did you find me?"
"We didn't. She did." He nodded at her double and launched into a complex explanation about alternate versions and matrices and originals and how the Stargate tried to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
Halfway through the lecture Radek came over, carrying a tray with clay mugs on it, steam curling over them. Trying hard not to wobble, he got down to his knees and placed the tray on the ground. Then he ceremoniously handed the mugs to their guests. "You probably can use something hot," he said simply, all perfect host, as though his earlier altercation with them never had happened. "It's tea."
Both Sheppards looked ecstatic, but apparently neither found it constructive to turn down the offer.
The alternate Elizabeth sniffed the brew and beamed. "It smells delightful," she said brightly. "Please, you must let me have the recipe."
With a sudden pang, Elizabeth realized why her double's behavior struck her as so familiar; this version of her had fled back into the safe template of her childhood, impersonating the perfect politician's wife her parents had wanted her to be. No matter if the world came crashing down around you, you weren't to show a wrinkle and the party must go on. Her mother had epitomized the principle all her life, without once admitting to the stultifying boredom of this endless succession of charity dinners and junior leaguers' baby showers. Perhaps she really hadn't been able to notice it…
"You mean to tell us that the gate system works?" Radek's comment was laced with a skepticism that barely avoided being impolite and yanked Elizabeth back into the Here and Now.
Major Sheppard took a careful sip of the tea, evidently decided that it wasn't as bad as it sounded, and said, "It works up to a point. Neither of us"-he nudged his twin-"could have gotten here on our own. It looks as though, if you're an alternate, the system will attempt to hook you up with your original, and that's the only way it works right now."
"So-" Radek slid a glance at Colonel Sheppard who'd wrapped his fingers around the mug of untouched tea. "Drink, Colonel. It's brewed from the blossoms of a local flower, and we observed several curative properties. Among other things it's a pretty good analgesic."
"I'm more worried about the other things," John observed, directing his gaze from the now very happy crowd by the other campfire and back to Elizabeth.
"It's safe, John," she said. "Really. You'll get approximately the same effect you would from a glass of wine, except it's more pleasant and without the risk of a hangover. Fundamentally, all it does is make you relax."
It wasn't the entire truth, and nobody knew it better than she. By the same token, if John turned any paler, he'd start to glow in the dark, and his painful squint suggested a roaring migraine. Right now the benefits of the blossom far outweighed its risks.
"I don't see you drinking any," he said, his voice terse.
"But you see me drinking it," Radek said before Elizabeth could reply, took a spare mug from the tray and drained it. "See? I understand your doubts, and I'm truly sorry to have caused them in the first place, but you must believe me, please. We're really not trying to harm you."
Finally, John took a tentative sip. "Could be worse, I suppose" He drank again.
"So." Looking pleased, Radek resumed his earlier thought. "This would imply that you came here specifically to find Elizabeth? Now that you've found her, what do you want of her?"
"We were hoping you could tell us where Rodney-original or alternate-is" John-the Major this time-finished his tea, gave a droopy-eyed blink, and placed the mug back on the tray. "I like this stuff. You got any more?"