“We have a system of signals using the Wraith horn,” replied the warrior leader.
“Assuming that most, if not all of the Chosen are dead, our first priority is to locate and protect everyone who has the ATA gene, or who’s received the gene therapy.”
The Dalerans’ faces blanked. Rodney suddenly had the urge to be ill. If Ushat learned that it had been Rodney’s idea to introduce the gene to all and sundry, he was a dead man. Of course, given their current situation, he was a dead man anyway. On the bright side, decapitation by axe would likely be less prolonged than having his life sucked out slowly by a Wraith. “Major,” Rodney uttered a warning through clenched teeth.
Chewing the inside of his lip, Sheppard glanced expectantly at Teyla. Great, now he was definitely a dead man.
“Kesun was correct,” Teyla explained. “Many of your people have inside of them what is called a gene, a small part of Dalera carried down through the generations. We brought with us from Atlantis a potion that when given to all would allow those who carry the gene to activate the Shields and the transport where once they could not.”
Could that woman talk, or what? The Dalerans crowded in the room murmured among themselves, greeting Teyla’s words with a sense of renewed purpose. Rodney was just about ready to kiss the Athosian’s graceful feet in gratitude — until Ushat’s gaze turned deadly. Fortunately, the warrior’s anger was directed elsewhere. “You stole this potion?” he snapped at Yann.
“Gat and Balzar decided that they deserved a place amidst the Chosen, and took it from us before we could use it,” Yann spat back.
Were they trying to give him a coronary? “How many times do I have to tell you? They’re not Chosen!”
“Rodney?” John fixed him with a murderous stare. “Shut up.”
“No! There’s a principle here. It’s a gene, not some divine gift that confers them with special privileges. The very name ‘Chosen’ inspires exactly the sort of pogroms that have pretty much guaranteed that everyone here is a dead—”
“We shall call ourselves Genes,” Yann announced.
He didn’t even know how to react to that. Genes? They were going to call themselves Genes? The men around him were nodding in agreement, muttering things like, “’Tis a good name.” Rodney opened his mouth to object, when Sheppard shot him a warning look. Well, he supposed it was better than Chosen.
“Now that’s settled,” said Sheppard. “Can we focus on saving everyone?”
“How many were given this potion?” Ushat asked.
“We carried enough for eighty,” replied Teyla.
“The gene therapy only works on forty-eight percent of the recipients,” Rodney began. “That’s—”
“Thirty-eight point four people,” Sheppard replied. “Unlike the Wraith, people need most of their body parts to operate, so let’s be conservative and say thirty-five.”
“Funny.”
“It will be less,” Ushat declared. “For I and my men killed Gat and many of the ruling chiefs.” He tossed an appraising eye at Yann. “If you did not receive this potion, how is it that the Shield glows for you?”
Meeting the warrior’s gaze, he replied, “When Kesun was struck down, his body fell atop mine. When I pushed him aside, I brushed the Shield, and it began to glow.”
The look in Ushat’s eyes changed. “Then you are indeed of the Chosen.”
A small smile crossed Yann’s lips. “Gene.”
“Okay, fine,” Rodney said impatiently, “now that we’ve all bonded, can we please get on with the plan?”
His head nodding in sage acquiescence, Ushat turned his attention back to the Major.
“See where these Stations are located?” Sheppard pointed to the specially marked buildings around the Citadel. “I’m betting that their height would extend the range of the EM fields.” He glanced at Rodney for confirmation.
“That would be true up to a point.”
“The Chosen once lived in all of the Stations,” Ushat said. “But it has not been that way since the time of the Great Plague.”
Well, that confirmed it. “If we can get people with Shields up in, say, these fifteen Stations—” Sheppard pointed to the marked buildings on the map. “I think we’d have a darned good coverage. It won’t be perfect, but given the low-level flight performance of those Darts, once they hit an EM field, they drop out of the sky fast. I don’t know that it would take too many crashes before they get the picture and back off entirely.”
“I could go to a Station,” Lisera offered. “There is one close by and I know the way.”
Ford went to object, but Rodney got in first. “The girl’s right. Those in the Stations don’t have to do anything except keep hold of the Shields and stay put.”
“I believe I know where most of the other Genes are hiding,” Yann said.
“In those areas where the Wraith Darts crashed?” Ford suggested.
“Not necessarily.” The Major shook his head. “Anyone holding an activated Shield is more or less marked for death, right?”
Yann nodded curtly and pointed to the map. “Here, inside the transports around the city, is the only place where the Genes are safe.”
Sheppard’s lips pursed thoughtfully. “We need eight Chosen—” He cast a quick, apologetic smile at Rodney. “Genes, to man the tallest, outer Stations first. That will cover a good portion of the perimeter.”
“The five transports near each of the bridges are somewhat smaller, and open to the market squares,” Yann added.
“To facilitate movement of goods coming into the Citadel by foot.” Teyla nodded in understanding.
“I believe it is where the other Genes have hidden.”
“Okay.” John turned to Lisera. “Let’s have you man this Station here, and as Yann locates more Genes, they can take the others. Next, and before we man these inner Stations, we need to deploy Genes to the outlying towns and villages, to evacuate everyone — and I do mean everyone — into the Citadel.”
“What?” One of the engineer’s faces hardened. “We do not have time to concern ourselves with the lives of those outside.”
“Particularly barbarians,” growled Yann in agreement.
“Well, you better start making time,” snapped the Major.
“He’s right,” added Rodney. “You lose all your farmers and fishermen, what are you going to eat once this is over?”
Sheppard waved his hand dismissively. “That’s the least of their problems. It’s like Kesun told Ushat. For every person you leave outside the Citadel, that’s one more meal for a Wraith. That’s why Dalera didn’t want anyone farming or settling outside of the protected areas. The people who live in unprotected lands, the ones you call barbarians, endanger everyone, because they become sustenance for the enemy. And it’s for that very reason that you can’t leave them behind. I’m betting that in the days when warriors lived outside the Citadel, the whole purpose of this—” He gently rapped a knuckle against Ushat’s chest armor. “—was designed to prevent a little Wraith snacking on the run. The more people we leave outside for the Wraith to harvest during the night, the more we’re potentially aiding the enemy. That could make a difference when the main assault force hits us at dawn.
“Now.” Sheppard turned to Yann. “I know Gat set up those food storage areas purely for himself and his cronies, but we can still use them. Depending on how long this siege is likely to last, we’ll also need to bring as much fresh food as possible, including livestock, inside the Citadel.”
“We will also need water from the village of Nemst.” Another engineer type pointed to a village sitting on the river northwest of the Citadel.
“Why?” Rodney demanded. “Unless I’m mistaken, you’re surrounded by two perfectly good river channels.”
The man’s fingers moved across the map to the western mountains. “During the spring melt, which is upon us now, the waters rise, bringing with them a sheen of colored rainbow lights. The fish die in great numbers. We cannot drink from the rivers when the lights appear.”