“It wasn’t the only one. Take a look.” Aiden tipped his head toward the windscreen. Scattered around the plowed fields were fully a dozen Darts. Each looked to have been the victim of a crash landing.
“I have never seen such a display,” Teyla said in surprise. “Is it possible that these people have found a way to defend themselves against a Wraith attack?”
Sheppard surveyed the wreckage and gave a low whistle. “All right, color me impressed. For a lousy design, they’re doing all right for themselves.”
McKay seemed to be working on convincing the sensor to record the data it was rapidly generating. “This Picasso-inspired checkerboard strategy wouldn’t stop everything. The law of averages dictates that a number of the Darts would find the unshielded areas, either through skill or blind luck.”
“But it did knock a bunch of them down.” The Major’s expression conveyed a kind of appreciation. “Once on the ground, the Wraith’s advantage would be seriously cut down. Would their stunners even work within the shield?”
“No, of course not, and the shields would repel any blasts fired into it from the outside. As I said, it’s like M7G-677.”
“And that’s where the fortifications come in. I’ve gotta say, as tactics go, this isn’t half bad.” Sheppard brought the image of a ruined Dart up on the screen. “I want to get a look inside one of those things. Anything we can learn about their style of offense will help us play better defense.”
Judging by the lack of griping about sports metaphors, McKay must not have heard the Major’s last comment. “No thanks to those oh-so-adorable little demon children, I discovered that the EM field on M7G-677 harnesses that planet’s unique magnetic field. Assuming these considerably smaller shields operate on a similar principle—” He tapped his finger at the patchy network visible on the display. “I can use the differences between the planets’ respective magnetic fields to recalibrate a smaller shield to suit any planet. If it could then be scaled up to cover an area the size of, say, Atlantis—”
“It’d take a lot more power than we’ve got,” Aiden finished.
“Yes, obviously. But these people seem to have the power available, so that’s all the more reason to find out where they’re getting it.”
Teyla looked uncomfortable. “We should introduce ourselves before intruding on these people’s land. We may mistakenly violate their customs if we act without making our intentions known.”
The scientist shifted his gaze to her, as though he hadn’t considered the possibility. She explained, “We have more to gain from being open with them at the outset. There is much farm-land here and their boats are no doubt employed for fishing. In addition to technology, we may also have the opportunity to trade for food.”
“Makes sense to me.” The Major called up a topographical map on the display. “All right, McKay, how about finding us an area not protected by the EM fields that’s relatively close to both a Dart and one of the villages?”
“As always, your wildly improbable wish is my command.” After only a few moments, though, McKay stabbed a finger at a coastal village. “Try there.”
“You’ll warn me if I’m getting too close to the shield this time, right?”
“Have you always been such a nervous driver?”
“It’s just gonna be a little hard going back for a repair kit with the Stargate in orbit.” He headed west toward the nearby mountains, cloaking the jumper as they went.
“You’re going the wrong way.” McKay looked confused.
“Just taking a quick look around. I like to eyeball the landscape on my way in.”
It was a subtle euphemism for reconnaissance, and that idea suited Aiden fine. Until last week, he had pegged Major Sheppard to be a decent superior officer with a typical flyboy attitude. No one would mistake him for a Marine, to be sure, and Aiden had heard enough scuttlebutt about his record to understand why Colonel Sumner hadn’t been too thrilled about having him on the expedition. But after the damage that Sheppard had inflicted on the Genii, there wasn’t a Marine on Atlantis who hadn’t gotten the picture and fast. More than anyone, Aiden now understood that the Major’s glib remarks camouflaged the mindset of an experienced tactician.
Capped with snow, the mountain range glinted in the early morning sun. “Air’s clean,” McKay observed, his nose still buried in the sensors. “Pre-industrialized society, at best, although there is a lingering trace of air pollutants. It’s likely that they went through a more developed phase between Wraith cullings, which would explain the construction of the city.”
The jumper’ s inertial dampeners took some of the fun out of it, but it was still a rush, zipping between the peaks low and fast. They abruptly exited into a wide valley, and the Major took them down to about five hundred feet. Spread out before them were patchy woodlands. Here and there, narrow roads bisected meadows of wildflowers and fields cultivated with what looked like orchard trees and newly planted crops.
“There’s a house.” Aiden pointed to a thatched stone bungalow. In a nearby field grazed some animals. He couldn’t make out the details, but they looked like large sheep, or maybe goats. “Place sure seems nice.”
“Hmm?” McKay finally looked up from the sensors. Eying another of the farms with suspicion, he added, “Very quaint. If we get dragged into a harvest celebration, so help me, I refuse to be held responsible for whatever reaction I might exhibit.”
“I think it’s a little early for that. There are still patches of snow in some of the ravines.”
“Whoa. That’s…imposing,” said Sheppard.
They had turned out of the valley onto a long, rolling plain dotted with more farms and woodlands that extended to the nearby coast. But that wasn’t what had drawn the Major’s attention. When he realized what had, Aiden almost gaped.
If it had been impressive from fifty thousand feet, from this angle the hill fortress, city, or whatever, looked awesome. Spread across an area slightly smaller than Manhattan, the hill jutted at least five hundred feet above the surrounding plain. A lot of the buildings had definitely been carved from the rock, with piecemeal additions constructed later from the same material. It was a Frankenstein kind of architecture, but damn if it didn’t look sturdy. “Sure wouldn’t want to have to lead a ground assault on the place. It’d take some serious ordnance just to make a dent in it.”
“Don’t go any further than that clump of trees.” McKay warned, pointing to an area about a mile away from the wreckage of a Dart.
They got their first view of the natives while on approach to land. “There are many people hurrying along the paths,” Teyla said. “They appear to be traveling from several directions.”
“Life sign detector is telling me the same thing,” McKay verified. “Hundreds of them, all rushing toward a handful of villages.”
Aiden pulled his eyes from the Darts and looked around. “Maybe they’re late for church?” the Major remarked, slowing the jumper to a halt. “I’m going to park in this gully. Less chance of someone tripping over us.”
The moment the jumper settled, Aiden was out of his seat and pulling on his pack. He grabbed his P-90, flicked off the safety and, exchanging a quick look with Sheppard, stood just inside the rear hatch as it opened.
No sign of life, except for a couple of the sheep-type things on the grassy slope of the gully. The animals lifted their heads and stared at him a moment, then went back to grazing.
Once outside, Aiden heard a deep, low noise that rose in pitch, then tapered off. “Wonder what that is?” The same sound echoed in the distance.
“Its sound is similar to the horns that my people use to signal one another when hunting,” Teyla said, joining him. She pulled her jacket close against the icy chill carried by the wind. “Perhaps it would explain why the inhabitants are making for the villages.”
“Yeah, but what’s the hurry?” Aiden wondered.