“I do,” Teyla said. “But we will prevail. I have known all these people for years, and I put my trust in Mr. Woolsey and General O'Neill.”
“Then why is it not done?”
“I do not know,” Teyla said. “But it shall be. I give you my word.”
Alabaster's eyes searched her face, as though looking for some sign there which it would be improper to seek mind to mind. “And then what? Once we have defeated Queen Death, then what will we do? Shall I try to kill you, or you me?”
“I hope that the retrovirus Dr. Keller and Guide have made will give us another option,” Teyla said.
“My men are eager to try it,” Alabaster agreed. “Each of them has pledged already to give of their lives to save others who are gravely injured or ill, a heroes' pledge among their people, just as they pledge to give their lives as warriors or rescuers for those lost at sea. It is an honor among them. Do you understand this?”
“Yes,” Teyla said.
“If they must die for others they shall, or be gravely injured or lose years of their lives. They know this. But if it is possible to save others and not die, it is better. If they may save others without the sacrifice of their lives or health, they would prefer it. Are not your people the same?”
“Yes,” Teyla said again, and an ache stirred in her. “It would be better if they did not have to die, even though they are pledged to the sacrifice.”
“That is what I think too,” Alabaster said. “Life must come from somewhere. We must eat if we aren't to starve. But if we could feed without causing death, and if those who have promised to pay the price did not have to pay with their lives, but only with pain that lasts a few days, perhaps….”
“…perhaps in time there might be peace,” Teyla said. “I do not know if this can be. But I know what lies in the other direction.” The pictures were there in her mind, the ruined city of Emege, the drawings of the Athosians on the walls of their refuge, Osprey burning with the pain of starvation.
“So do I,” Alabaster said.
Teyla's radio clicked. "Teyla?" John's voice was sharp. "I need you in the brig now."
"What has happened?" she asked, putting her hand to the headset.
"I'll tell you when you get down here."
Alabaster did not seem alarmed. "I shall wait for your Mr. Woolsey to open the session again. It seems your Consort needs you greatly."
"It seems so," Teyla said. She opened the channel again. "I am on my way," she said.
Chapter Six
Mind to Mind
John was waiting for her just outside, four Marines on guard at the entrance to the brig, two looking outward and two inward. Through the door she could see Rodney pacing the cell, an expression of intense irritation on his face.
"Why is Rodney in the brig?" she demanded.
John looked harried. "Rodney stole Hyperion's weapon," he said shortly. "He said he wanted to keep it safe. He says he told us where he put it, but when we looked it wasn't there. So either somebody found it and stole it, or…."
"Or Rodney is lying," Teyla said. "And he is Queen Death's agent." It was clear in an instant how that might be. And why.
John nodded grimly. "I need you to find out which it is. Can you get in his head?"
"Yes." She looked past him at Rodney, who had stopped pacing and was watching them. "I can take that from his mind. I do not think he will be able to resist me." No blade or cleverman could. Not even when what she ordered was for them to fall on their own knife, though John had not seen that, only Guide. She didn't know what he would think of that. Probably that it was necessary.
"I'm sorry to ask you to do this," John said. In the chaos this morning he hadn't shaved, and the stubble on his jaw made him look older somehow.
"You do not need to apologize," she said, and lifting her chin went in. "Turn off the force field."
Rodney put his hands in his pockets as the door slid open, bars parting as she stepped through. "What, you're going to interrogate me now?"
"Yes," Teyla said. She stopped a few feet from him, aware that if he were Death's agent this would be the point of no return, the moment at which the deception would be done and he would have nothing to lose. "Rodney, we must know if you are telling the truth or not. If you are, you have nothing to fear. And if you are not…."
He gave her a lopsided smile that was very Rodney. "If I'm not, then you're going to kill me?"
"If you are not, you will remain in custody until this is over," Teyla said firmly. "And then we will find a way to return you fully to yourself." She took a step closer, aware of John just behind her, of the way his hand moved involuntarily to his pistol. Would he shoot Rodney if he resisted? He should not have to.
She raised her right hand, the palm crossed with the healing scar from the handmouth, the gesture of a Wraith queen who expected obedience, and she bent her will to him. “Rodney,” she said with her mind voice, “there is no choice. You will do as I ask.”
She saw the set of his shoulders change, his expression relax infinitesimally. There was enough of Quicksilver in him still. He could not resist a queen, not face to face and mind to mind. And in that case how much more of Quicksilver remained, Queen Death's cleverman? Teyla took another step forward, her hand rising toward his cheek. He shivered as she touched him, her palm flat against his face, the scar of the handmouth against his skin.
“Rodney,” she said. "Open your mind to me.”
Fear. The surface of his mind was riddled with fear. What if he were turned? What if he had stolen the device because of some deeply hidden order? What if he were truly not to be trusted, broken in ways beneath the surface that even he didn't know about? That was the thing that terrified him most — the memory of those days when he had acted as Quicksilver, serving the Wraith, attacking Atlantis –
Radek, lying crumpled on the floor of the ZPM room, a Wraith bending over to feed…
He had not known him, had nearly let Ember kill his friend.
“But you did not,” Teyla said. “Enough of you remained.”
Jennifer, her face changing in pain and terror as he drew life from her, her fear and anguish a spur to his hunger, life flowing into him sweet and bright even as her muscles clenched in pain….
She had felt it before, through Guide as he fed, the same dark wonder but tempered by control. Rodney had fed starving, in desperation, while Guide had sipped as a man will at an unfamiliar drink he is offered in a strange village, staving off intoxication with will.
“You could not help it,” she said. “A starving man will eat, no matter what the cost.”
And that was memory again, hers rather than his, Osprey's memory long buried within her, and she lifted it up like a gem from a case to give to him, the horror of those first days when they fled world to world, the first Wraith pursued by all. They had learned to feed because they must. Those who did not, those who would not, died.
“It is that simple,” Teyla said. “You are too strong to die, Rodney. So you do what you must.”
She felt his assent, as though she had given him some blessing, a thing that had never been hers to give.
“Show me,” she said. “Show me who you serve.”
Death was there, yes, but it was skin deep, an allegiance shed with the scraps of the drugs they had given him, as illusory as their control of Michael. And beyond that, no one. At the heart, at the core, there was no one in that place where true allegiance lies, no parent or friend, no lover, no child. No Jennifer. In the end, Rodney followed his own heart. He had taken the weapon because he thought it best, because he thought he was most able to guard it, most qualified to decide its fate. And beyond that he truly did not know its fate.