STARGATE ATLANTIS: The Furies (Book 4 in the Legacy series) (15 page)

“It appears that they left voluntarily and with sufficient time to remove anything of value,” William said. “Perhaps they simply closed the base down.”

“Maybe so.” Ronon shone his light along the far wall. There were two metal doors. He frowned. “Those are pressure doors, the kind we have in Atlantis in the areas that are underwater.”

“Maybe this place flooded sometimes?” Laura asked.

“I can’t imagine how, from the geological work we did,” William replied. “We’re far above sea level, and it seems likely it would have been even further away 10,000 years ago.”

“Bad weather?” Eva suggested. “It does get really cold here, right?”

“It does,” William conceded. “Perhaps that was the reason.”

“We should see what’s on the other side,” Laura said.

It took three of them to pry the doors open with Eva holding the light so the others could work, Ronon on one side and William and Laura on the other.

“Perfectly ordinary hallway,” William said. He looked at Eva. “Can you try the lights?”

Frowning, she put her hand to the wall.
Lights
, she thought really hard.

“That’s something,” William said, and she opened her eyes. A few dim emergency lights had flickered to life here and there, providing some illumination.

There still wasn’t anything to see. It looked like an underground version of one of Atlantis’ maintenance corridors, just utilitarian metal and stone. Ordinary doors marked its length for perhaps a hundred feet, where it dead ended in a T intersection.

“Let’s start trying doors,” Laura said.

The air was cool but stale. Ventilation was working somewhere, and Eva said as much.

William nodded, his light playing around the third empty room Laura had opened. “Not uncommon in Ancient facilities. But I must say, this is one of the planer ones I’ve ever examined, even the much older ones in the Milky Way. No ornamentation, no script… The Ancients liked to make functional things beautiful and elegant. Here it seems they just didn’t bother.”

Ronon opened the door across the hall. Six niches filled the other three walls, each roughly seven feet long and four feet wide, stacked one on top of the other. “Barracks,” he said. “This looks like the crew quarters in the undersea drilling station we found on Lantea.”

William nodded, for all that was Greek to Eva, a reference to some mission she’d never heard of. Presumably William had gotten much more classified material to review than she had. “That follows.”

“Only here they took the mattresses and lamps with them,” Ronon said, looking around. “Didn’t leave a thing. They didn’t desert this place in a hurry. They shut it down.”

“I’d be inclined to agree,” William said, backing out into the hall again.

Laura looked out of the door of the room across the hall. “Bathroom,” she said. “No frills, just the basics.”

“Some kind of military base?” Eva wondered aloud.

“It seems likely,” William said. “Just a hypothesis, of course. But this far out in the rim it may have been abandoned early in the war. This is far from all known population centers, and there seems to have been no strategic material here to defend.” He shrugged. “Perhaps simply not worth keeping as the Ancients became overextended.”

“It’s kind of creepy,” Laura said.

“It’s just a ruin,” William said. There was a slightly exasperated tone in his voice. “And not a particularly interesting one at that.”

“It’ll be interesting if it has a ZPM,” Ronon said. “How about we skip all these rooms and go straight for the energy source?”

“Just a quick look,” William promised, though by the tenth room even he was beginning to sound frustrated. “Maybe a kitchen,” he said of a long room stripped of everything except for some heavy stone sinks.

“Kitchens, barracks, bathrooms, storerooms,” Eva said as she opened the next door. “I wonder what it was all for?”

“A military outpost does seem likely,” William began.

Laura looked in. “Or a research facility,” she said. “This is more like it.”

Banks of metal shelves lined the walls, wires dangling where pieces of equipment had been pulled. A central pedestal held a stripped terminal, empty slots clearly showing where viewscreens had once been installed. Along the opposite wall of the room one way glass partitions separated out two isolation chambers, entirely empty except for a few overhead lighting fixtures, though small holes in the walls here and there suggested where other equipment might have gone.

William ran his hands over the remaining terminal almost lovingly. “This still has power,” he said.

“The lights do,” Eva replied. “Want me to initialize it?”

Ronon shook his head. “No. Lynn, you just get video, ok? We have no idea what this stuff does, and I’ve seen McKay nearly blow himself up way too many times turning on Ancient stuff he didn’t know anything about. Get some video, and when we bring Zelenka back here he can have a look at it.”

“It seems to have operative systems,” William said. “I could just…”

“Leave it alone,” Ronon said patiently. “Find the ZPM, if there is one. Zelenka can have a look at this stuff and see what it does.”

“It might be a weapon,” William argued.

“It might be just the environmental controls,” Eva said sensibly. “It looks like they took everything else except the lights and the ventilation systems. It’s probably the terminal that controls them.”

Ronon gave her an approving look. “Right. So let’s find the power source.”

Laura had been looking at the isolation chambers, trying to find the way to open them. Now she stopped, her head going up. “Ronon,” she said, “I don’t think this was a lab.”

He came to see what she was looking at, Eva and William at his shoulder. One of the walls was scratched, long gouges in groups of nine, a tenth hash mark across each group tying them together.

“No,” he said grimly. “It was a prison.”

They went on, down metal stairs that creaked alarmingly from corrosion and stressed joints, past more conventional cells set into the walls, bars drawn back across empty space. There were twenty of them. Eva counted. Twenty, and each had held a single person? Or each had held a dozen prisoners? There was no knowing. Everything was dark and silent, empty and clean, leaving no clues to the original occupants.

“I can smell the ocean,” Eva said suddenly.

It was colder here, and there was a distinct salt tang to the air that didn’t smell like the ventilation systems.

“I think there is water ahead,” William said. Sure enough, when everyone was quiet the faint lapping of waves could be heard. Another pair of pressure doors, these open, and the water was louder.

It looked something like one of the underwater jumper bays in Atlantis, and perhaps it originally had been. Now, with the ice overreaching, it was an ice cavern half filled with water, a pale blue light descending through the ice from the sky above.

“It can’t be very thick,” William said, looking up. “Not and let so much light through. But I don’t see the outlet.”

“Underwater,” Ronon said. “The ice probably doesn’t go down very far in the seawater.”

“It’s enormous,” Laura said, looking off to the right. “Maybe there used to be some kind of energy shield or something and the ice formed over it. When the shield failed, it left this big ice dome.”

“It’s really beautiful,” Eva said.

Ronon nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe this whole planet was a penal colony,” Eva said.

Ronon shrugged noncommittally, his eyes on William, who was picking his way along the ice that rimmed the cavern, out toward a dark shape on the ice. “What are you doing?” Ronon called.

“Looking at this,” William called back. He bent over the whatever it was, his red jacket a bright spot against the white and blue. “Interesting. It looks like one of those squid. Part of a carcass. It might have washed up in here.”

“Funny place to wash up,” Eva began, and her breath caught in her throat.

“William!” Laura yelled in the same moment, and the archaeologist spun around.

Almost invisible against the ice, an enormous white shape reared up, half again William’s height, towering over him with a roar that echoed through the dome. Its ursine snout opened to show sharp teeth, and its forepaws had long claws, like the biggest polar bear Eva had ever imagined.

“Run!” Laura shouted.

“Drop!” Ronon shouted at the same time.

William stood stock still, whether in indecision between two entirely contradictory suggestions or just in sheer terror.

“Hey you!” Ronon shouted, running toward it, angling around the edge of the pool. He didn’t have a clean shot with William between him and the bear. “Hey you!”

The bear spun around, roaring, looking at this new, noisier interloper.

“Drop!” Ronon yelled again, and William did, falling to his knees with his head covered. The energy pistol spoke, flaring bright in the blue gray light. One shot, two, three… The bear went over on the fourth shot, toppling with a sound that Eva could hear from across the cavern.

“Oh my God,” she said, her heart racing.

Ronon grabbed William’s hand, dragging him to his feet. “You ok?”

“Yes.” William’s voice was a little shaky. “Just fine.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “That thing was pretty tough. Don’t you know any better than to mess with a predator’s kill? You see a carcass like that and whatever killed it probably isn’t far away.”

“Do you think those things can swim?” Laura asked as they drew nearer. She cradled her P90 watchfully.

“Probably,” Eva said. “Polar bears on Earth are good swimmers.”

“That would explain how it got in here,” William said. He dusted the snow off his jacket where he’d lain on the ice.

Laura’s eyes suddenly went wide, looking over Eva’s shoulder. “And how its twelve friends did,” she said.

“Everybody
back!” Ronon yelled. “Cadman, cover them!”

A pack of the bears — Eva wasn’t going to stop and argue with Laura about whether or not there were twelve — were pulling themselves out of the water. The first were already on dry land, rushing toward them at an alarming rate. For a moment time seemed to stop. I’m going to be eaten by a giant polar bear, Eva thought quite calmly. One always wonders how one will die. She’d considered a good many likely scenarios over the years. But somehow giant alien bears had never figured in.

“Get back!” Ronon yelled, grabbing her by the shoulder and shoving her after William. “Cover us from the door.”

William hadn’t needed to be told twice. He was sprinting for the entrance at a speed that would have looked good in high school track and field.

With a noise that sounded ear splittingly loud, Laura opened up with the P90. The ice dome amplified every sound, and to Eva it sounded like a dozen guns. Laura looked perfectly calm, the weapon cradled against her, as she fired again and again on the onrushing animals. Another thing for the file, Eva thought as she ran past. Laura might come in the office and flail about relationships, but at the bottom of it she was a Marine, the only Marine lieutenant in five years who hadn’t come home from Atlantis on a stretcher or in a body bag.

“Woah,” William yelled, skidding to an abrupt halt. Two of the bears had somehow come around behind them, or perhaps they’d already been inside the dome, white on white, camouflaged the entire time. However they’d gotten there, they were between William and Eva and the door blocking their escape.

Behind, Ronon’s energy pistol spoke again.

“It’s not dropping them,” Laura yelled to him. It ought to. Even Eva knew that. The bears ought not be taking five or six shots from a P90 to slow them down. Surely not.

Ronon pivoted. “Cover. I’ll clear the door.” He came tearing back, energy pistol in hand, drawing a bead on one of the bears between William and the door. William had his little 9mm in his hand.

“Tell me you’re not going to shoot bears with that,” Eva said.

“It’s better than nothing,” William said.

One of the bears charged. It couldn’t have been more than twenty feet away, and Eva stood stock still, remembering some old documentary she’d seen that said the worst thing you could do was run. The seconds elongated. She could see every detail of fur and snout, every tooth. Ronon fired again and again. Three times, four. Five. The bear fell, sliding across the ice carried by its momentum, claws raking almost at her feet.

Behind her, the clatter of automatic weapons fire stopped. Laura had fired the whole clip. And the bears were still coming, still six or eight of them.

At least the way to the doors was clear now. “Go!” Ronon yelled. “Get through to the other side!” He dropped back, dashing around Eva to cover Laura, who had to reload.

Eva ran for the door, William’s back ahead of her. He was almost through, dodging around the carcass of one of the bears Ronon had shot. How could every moment take so long? Surely it was only seconds. She was almost there.

Laura shouted something she didn’t understand, and in the next moment there was an explosion behind her, loud enough to make her ears ring, strong enough to make her lose her stride.

A grenade, some part of her thought. Laura was out of bullets so she threw a grenade. That ought to stop them…

There was a horrible rumble and cracking sound, blue suddenly splitting to bright gold.

“Oh crap,” she heard Laura yell, and then with a single dreadful heave the ice dome above them collapsed.

For one moment Eva saw blue sky above, sunlight streaming down as the enormous chunks of ice fell away. She had presence of mind to put her arms over her head as the pieces fell, huge as appliances or small cars, tumbling her into darkness.

And then there was nothing.

There were voices. It seemed like she ought to recognize them, but she didn’t. They were coming from so far away, from a place of pain that she retreated from. Her daughter? Maybe. It might be Desireé, heard through something heavy and muffling. A young woman’s voice, swearing and crying, begging forgiveness. Desireé might do that. Though she didn’t have anything in the world to blame herself for.