"Yes, right. But right now it means you're not actually reaching the scanners' full range." Rodney frowned at the screen again, considering the new parameters. There wasn't any way to boost the power, not without rerouting everything, and that would take— well, hours, and presumably Woolsey and O'Neill wanted an answer sooner than that. All right, that was the obvious solution. What was less obvious, and more effective? A Wraith fleet was hiveships and –
"Wait," he said. "Just give me a minute here." Zelenka was looking dubious, but Rodney plowed on, his fingers busy on the keys. Just a little adjustment there, the search frequencies narrowed to one low band — yes, the available power would reach maybe even a little further than the sensors' original limits. "Yes. There."
Zelenka peered over his shoulder. "And this is searching for what, specifically?"
"Hiveships." Rodney took a last look at the settings, and hit the button that made it live. "See, hiveships tend to give off a low-frequency electronic field, not in a range that's particularly useful for anything, but it's a lot harder to get rid of than it is to just live with it, so if we concentrate on just looking for that…."
His voice trailed off as the results appeared on the screen, dull purple spots against the black. Two, three — four large spots, and half a dozen smaller purple flecks: four hives and at least six large cruisers. A fleet, definitely, and — his hands danced over the keys. Yes, the signal was increasing, slowly but steadily. Queen Death's fleet was on its way to Atlantis. "Crap."
Zelenka said something much stronger in Czech. "We must inform Mr. Woolsey right away."
"Yeah." Rodney stared at the screen. He knew those ships, knew how strong they were — knew just how determined Queen Death was, her and her zenana. Daedalus was still on Earth, the Hammond was still undergoing repairs — even if the Genii threw in their Ancient warship, there was no way they'd learned how to fly it in — what? — a couple of months. And an alliance with Guide was only good as long as it benefited Guide…. "We are so screwed," he said, and only then realized he'd spoken aloud.
Woolsey paused in the corridor, put his hand to the radio at his ear, ignoring the Marines who waited outside the doors of both conference rooms. "Dr. Keller."
There was a moment of silence, long enough that he was already reaching to switch channels, and then Jennifer answered. "Mr. Woolsey?"
She sounded wary, Woolsey thought, and well she might. "I need five minutes of your time, Dr. Keller — perhaps ten — and it's urgent. Right away, if possible."
"I — yes. Yes, if it's really urgent, sure, I can make time." She paused. "Do you want Dr. Beckett as well?"
"Yes," Woolsey said. "I'll be down right away."
It didn't take long to reach the infirmary. For a wonder, it wasn't very busy, just a technician working on one of the diagnostic machines, and a Marine corporal having her ankle brace replaced. Both Keller and Beckett were waiting, and Keller waved a hand toward her office.
"Is that okay —?"
"Fine, thank you," Woolsey said. He let her take her place behind her desk, for all that every nerve screamed for him to blurt out his questions, waited until Beckett had found a place to perch as well. "Dr. Keller, Dr. Beckett, I need your assessment of Genii medical technology."
Jennifer blinked, started to say something, but Woolsey ignored her, laid out Radim's proposal as baldly as it had been made.
"So my question is, can Radim's people actually use our gene therapy to insert an artificial ATA gene?"
Beckett pursed his lips, tilting his head to one side. "Aye, that's a question."
"I don't — I wouldn't think they could," Jennifer said, frowning. "I mean, nothing we've seen so far is that advanced. But I'm pretty sure we haven't seen everything."
"That's for certain," Beckett said. "They couldn't do it three years ago, or they wouldn't have taken Lorne prisoner. And what we saw then — I'm not at all sure they were as advanced as Hoff…."
"I think they were at least that far along," Jennifer said.
"The Hoffans concentrated everything, all their development, on their drug," Beckett said. "They were well in advance, I believe. At least in that regard."
"All right, but that only puts them — well, I don't think they have anything more advanced than we had in the 1950s. Maybe the early 1960s." Jennifer shook her head. "I'm not sure they'd even be able to isolate DNA, much less create their own version of the ATA gene."
"They'll have stolen the technology for that from us," Beckett said. "And they know what they want to do."
"But do they have the technology?" Jennifer asked.
"Doctors," Woolsey said. "I need an answer." It was suddenly important that they understand, and he kept on, laying the words out like counters in a game. "We can't let the Genii get full access to Ancient technology. With that — I don't believe Ladon Radim has any compunction about trying to become the dominant power in the Pegasus Galaxy and, with Ancient technology, I believe they can do it. On the other hand, we cannot stand against Queen Death without the Pride of the Genii. And Mr. Radim has made his position clear: unless we give him the gene therapy, their ship stays safely grounded."
Beckett shook his head slowly. "I don't believe they can do it, Mr. Woolsey. They just don't have the technology. Not to create a working ATA gene."
"But they believe it can be done," Jennifer said. "And the Genii — they're not stupid. In fact, they're pretty sophisticated, and they're desperate. They may not have the equipment now, and I'll even grant they probably can't make a working version of the gene even if we give them the therapy. But that just means they'll steal it. They’ve already tried it once."
"Eventually, yes, they'll get hold of the gene," Beckett began, and Zelenka's voice crackled in Woolsey's ear.
"Mr. Woolsey. You're needed in the control room right away."
Woolsey put his hand to the earpiece. "I'm in the middle of something, Dr. Zelenka —"
"It's urgent," Zelenka said. "We've sighted the Wraith fleet."
Only long training kept Woolsey from swearing, and he felt his face freeze into his most unrevealing mask. "I see."
"They are perhaps thirty, thirty-two hours away." Zelenka's accent was thicker than Woolsey could remember, the first indication of nerves he'd seen in the man. "And there is no mistaking their course. There are four hives, plus cruisers, and they are coming here."
Woolsey made himself take a breath, denying the fear that coiled at the base of his spine. This had been coming since they'd first encountered Queen Death, and there was no use wishing for a better time because there never would be one. "Dr. Keller, Dr. Beckett. I'd like the two of you to put your heads together and give me an answer to my question. Within the hour, if possible."
"But —"
He ignored Jennifer's automatic protest. "You will also need to begin preparing for a Wraith attack on Atlantis. Queen Death's fleet is on its way."
Jennifer said nothing, stricken to silence, and Beckett nodded, his expression grim. "We'll do that," he said, and Jennifer shook herself.
"Yes. We'll be ready."
"I never doubted it," Woolsey said, and turned away.
Chapter Five
Compromises
"So I expect you'll want to start moving your fleet into position," Jack said.
"Yes," Guide said, pacing behind the chair where Alabaster sat. "As soon as we see that you have destroyed Hyperion's weapon."
"That could take a little time."
Guide showed his teeth. "How long would you like us all to wait?"
Jack thumbed on his radio headset. "Carter, are you almost ready to drop that weapon into the sun?"