“What the hell?” John said, throwing a baffled look at Rodney.
“It’s a stasis container.” Rodney moved forward, staring as if uneasily fascinated, studying the readouts as the others gathered around.
“I can see that. What — Who—” Realizing he sounded like an idiot, John shut up. He just hadn’t been expecting this. He had no idea what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this.
“I have never seen anything like this before either, Major,” Teyla said, regarding the stasis container warily. “Could he be a survivor of the attack? Why did he not leave through the Stargate?”
Kavanagh moved forward impatiently, standing next to McKay to look at the readouts. McKay flung a hand in the air, saying, “In another minute, you can ask him personally. This chamber is cycling through an opening sequence.”
“Now we’ll get some answers,” Kavanagh muttered, staring intently at the chamber.
“Ah, is that a good idea?” Kolesnikova looked worriedly from John to Rodney. “We think this place is a hospital, at least partly.”
“Yeah,” Ford added. “What if he’s in there because there’s something wrong with him, and opening it kills him?”
“I have no idea. What if he’s in there because there’s something wrong with him and opening it kills us?” Rodney ducked around the side of the platform to check the various panels.
“Can you stop it?” John demanded.
The platform clunked as bolts were released deep inside. Rodney hurried back to John’s side. “I could, if I had half an hour and we weren’t concerned about killing him.”
John swore under his breath. That wasn’t going to happen. “Everybody get away from it,” he ordered, backing away.
Kolesnikova retreated hastily, Ford motioning for her to get behind him as he and Teyla retreated back through the doorway. Kavanagh stayed where he was, and John said sharply, “You too, Doctor.”
Kavanagh shook his head, as if barely listening. “He’s human, there’s no danger. He could be an Ancient.” He gestured, his voice incredulous. “Do you have any idea what that could mean? We could have all the answers to all the questions we’ve ever had.”
“Yes, I understand that. But that man could be ill,” Rodney said urgently. “He could be—”
White mist flushed through the clear part of the chamber and locks clicked; the low-frequency hum got louder.
“Well, it’s little late now,” Rodney muttered.
John caught Kavanagh by the collar and swung him bodily away from the stasis container, back toward Teyla. Kavanagh staggered, catching his balance against the archway.
A whoosh from the stasis container made everyone flinch, then the glass split smoothly in two, both sides rotating back and down into the platform. The occupant lay exposed on the opalescent material of the bed, still as death. John had a moment to think the point was moot and that the man was actually dead; his face was drawn and colorless in the wan light. Then he twitched and took a hard gasping breath. His eyes opened and he shook his head, gasped again, and suddenly sat up. He buried his face in his hands, as if sick or dizzy.
Beside John, McKay hovered uncertainly. “Well?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “If there was an airborne pathogen in that container with him, it could already be too late. If not… What do we do?”
“I have no idea,” John admitted. The only thing he could think to do was ask. He cleared his throat. “Uh, hello?”
The man’s head jerked up and he twisted to face them. He had a high intelligent forehead, short gray hair matted flat, and his eyes were blue. His gaze went to John, and he stared for a frozen moment. He said in amazement, “You’re human.”
“That’s what we were about to say to you.” John eyed him uncertainly. “You are human, right? Uh, who are you?”
The man lifted a shaky hand to his head. “I am called Dorane.” He was turning paler by the moment. “I–It has been so long…”
John was starting to feel that using three P-90s to cover one frail unarmed man in a bathrobe was overkill. “Are you all right?”
McKay interposed worriedly, “We thought you might have been in stasis because you had a communicable illness, like, oh, some kind of plague, for example. You don’t, do you?”
“What?” Dorane rubbed his eyes, as if he were having trouble focusing. “Oh, no. I placed myself in stasis, when the athenaeum — I was hoping my people would—” He tried to push himself off the platform and faltered, his legs refusing to support him.
John and McKay both started forward, but John let McKay catch the man’s arm and hold him up, just on the off chance that it had been a ploy to get near his weapon. Kavanagh lunged over to help, shouldering the man’s other arm and saying, “We have so many questions—”
“Let us wait on that for a moment,” Kolesnikova interrupted quickly. “Give him some time to recover.”
“There is a room, just down the next passage,” Dorane said, his voice strained. “Please take me there.”
While the others helped Dorane, John sent Ford back to the gallery, to stand guard where he could keep an eye on the outer blast door. They found the other room a short distance down the cave-like passage that led off the doorway next to the stasis chamber. It was a little smaller, with a low couch built into the wall, padded with some slick blue-gray material. McKay and Kavanagh helped Dorane sit down.
John stood back in the doorway; he couldn’t figure this. Everything they had seen in this area was intact, though he couldn’t see why whoever had destroyed the rest of the place had left it behind. Surely that one blast door hadn’t been enough to keep them out.
Teyla had paused beside him, and he asked, low-voiced, “Any thoughts?”
Kolesnikova sat next to Dorane, handing him her water bottle, and McKay retreated to join John and Teyla. “If that man is an Ancestor,” Teyla said, watching Dorane uncertainly, “this could be far better than finding any number of ZPMs.”
After taking a long drink, Dorane handed the bottle back and looked up at them all. His face already seemed less pale and strained. He smiled a little in confusion and asked, “Who are you, how did you come here?”
“We’re peaceful explorers,” John said. Who are also looking for ZPMs and anything else we can haul back home to protect us from the Wraith, he thought, but he wasn’t going to say that aloud. Not just yet. “From a place called Atlantis. I’m guessing you’ve heard of it.”
Dorane’s brows drew together and he said uncertainly, “Atlantis? But I thought…the city was abandoned.”
Great, now he’s suspicious of us. John looked pointedly at McKay, passing the diplomatic duties over to him. McKay gave John a mild glare, but faced Dorane squarely. “Ah, yes. Atlantis was abandoned. We come from a planet now called Earth, which is where the Ancients returned to when they left Atlantis. As you may know.” Teyla cleared her throat, and he added, “Teyla there is Athosian, we met her people after we got here. We came to this galaxy through the Stargate to search for Atlantis. And we found it.”
John added, “The Ancients were driven out by the Wraith.”
“Hey, I’m doing this,” McKay objected, frowning at him impatiently.
“You’re doing it slowly.” Then it belatedly occurred to John that maybe he should have broken that a little more gently. He said to Dorane, “You know about the Wraith, right? Because I’m starting to feel like we may be dumping a lot of bad news on you all at once.”
Dorane made an absent gesture. “Yes, yes, it was the Wraith who attacked this place.” He shifted on the couch, wincing. “It must have been a long time. I have few supplies left here, so I must remain in stasis almost continually. I set the container to open periodically, and I check the emergency communications systems to see if my people have tried to contact me, if anyone has returned. But I haven’t been good at keeping track of the passage of years, the last few times I woke.”
“Communications system?” That was the best news John had heard all day. Their radios might not be able to punch through the shielding and electromagnetic interference, but John bet an Ancient communications setup would. “Look, we were attacked on the way in here by some kind of aliens, creatures, something. Three of our people are still up on the surface, and we can’t reach them with our radios to warn them.”