Day One Hundred-Five

It's very early, when John is awakened by a knock on the door to his quarters. It's been a month since he stopped taking the radio to bed. He sits up bolt awake instantly, and pads over to open the door, revealing Corporal Frostman.

Frostman steps over the threshold as John starts hunting for his pants. "There's another group that's joined the Peragro, sir."

John scrubs a hand across his face. "They're not hostile I take it?"

"No sir, they just started to camp out on the west side. I thought you'd want to know."

"Thank you, Corporal. Did you send someone to Dr. Weir or Colonel Caldwell?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Okay. Don't bother, I'll check on it, no sense in all of us getting out of bed."

"Yes sir." Frostman snaps a sharp salute, as if he hadn't just watched his commanding officer zip his fly.

"Let's go." John's taken to going barefoot on-board to save wear and tear on his boots, but he grabs his sidearm and straps it on as a matter of habit that he's not willing to change.

The new arrivals number only ten or so. They've simply staked out their few mesla, and are already nested into the sand, wrapped in their robes and apparently asleep by the time John climbs down the ladder to check out the situation.

The viator that have been stopping at the Daedalus for the last couple of days have all been very peaceful and respectful so far, and John's willing to return the favor and not wake them up. He hadn't needed to get out of bed for this, but he's glad that Frostman's first thought had been him, not Caldwell.

John's not sure what being the Quaralyn is going to entail, but he's not willing to be shut out of his only foothold on the Daedalus, because of a little thing like dying and not staying dead; he's been there, done that. He's still working on how he's going to hold that together as the second coming of Qaral's son, or whatever he is.

He claps a hand on Frostman's shoulder. "Good job, Corporal. Let me know if anything else happens."

"Will do, sir. Good night."

"'Night, Frostman."

John pads on dusty feet back to his quarters, puts his weapon away and falls haphazardly back onto the bed.

~*~

It's not even dawn when John's up and meeting the band of viator that had arrived in the night. It turns out to be Tazim, and a few other Zadiyeh who will travel with them. John and Anbur join them as they make the sweet tea that John learned to like in the N'vellesem tavern over small fires of dried mesla dung. They're breakfasting on the hard flat bread he didn't like so much—it was too much like the crappy wheat bread flats that came in the MREs and tasted like cardboard.

After breakfast, the rest of John's group are up and about, and they begin to pack their belongings onto the smelly, shaggy meslas, which have cantankerous dispositions, but by all accounts, are well suited to the environment.

Rodney's applying another layer of sunscreen, and he's got a smear of zinc oxide on his nose and under his eyes. Tazim is vastly interested, watching the process. He asks in perfectly understandable Peragro, "what is he doing?"

John explains that Rodney's got a problem with the sun, and Tazim nods and holds up a finger before he rushes away to dig into his belongings on a mesla that keeps trying to sidle away from him. John and Rodney shrug at each other.

A few minutes later, he's back, gesturing at the boonie that's jammed onto Rodney's head and pointing at the black and white plaid cloth in his hand. John questions Tazim before turning to Rodney, "He wants to trade for your hat."

"But I need it, I'm going to fry to a crisp!"

"Do us both a favor and just go with it, Rodney."

Rodney sighs heavily as he pulls off the brain sponge and gives it to Tazim.

Tazim takes it and drops it to the ground as he shakes out the checked cloth and floats it over Rodney's head, and then deftly ties it on in complicated knots, similar to his own.

Rodney touches it and then pulls it more firmly down on his head. "Okay, so this is cool."

Tazim shows him how to tuck the long edge up so that his face is covered, and then surprises both of them with "Yes?"

Rodney grins. "Yes!"

"Come on, Ned." John takes a slow spin and sees that everyone is ready and waiting, or saying their farewells. He's surprised to catch Caldwell hugging Elizabeth good-bye.

He's even more surprised when Caldwell sees him and waves them over. "Colonel?"

Elizabeth yanks the end of Rodney's scarf gently. "Looking good there, McKay."

"Tazim thought it would be useful, and I'm sure that I cut quite the figure of sartorial splendor." Rodney strikes a pose and holds it, and gets a laugh for his effort.

Caldwell's smiling and shaking his head. "Good luck, Sheppard. You've got everything you need?"

"I think we're set. Rodney, you got all the toys you wanted to bring?"

Rodney gives him a flat look. "I have all of the tools I think might be necessary, yes. Along with a thousand power bars."

John grins. "Now we know why you needed the cart. Yep, we've got food, water and the necessary tools."

"I'm still highly uncomfortable with the idea that you're going unarmed."

"Well, if the Wraith come, you'll send out the rescue squad. We’ve got our radios, and you know where we're going. Anbur and Tazim seem to think we'll be fine otherwise."

Caldwell shakes John's hand and then Rodney's. "Be safe, and take care. Let us know how you're doing."

"Scheduled radio checks at dusk." John hesitates and then goes for broke. "Got it, Dad. We'll have the car back in the garage in a few weeks."

Caldwell gives him a wry look, but he takes the kidding in good humor. "Thanks, Sheppard. We'll talk to you tonight, then."

"Alright kids, we’ve got the car keys, let's gas it up and go." John turns and joins Anbur, with Rodney and Elizabeth right behind him.

"And we begin." Anbur whistles, and they move out towards the west in a procession of ones and twos. He starts the pace slowly and some of the younger students race up and down the line, visiting with their classmates and chattering. John and Elizabeth walk side by side, Rodney's fallen back to where Shaaziya is leading one of the mesla.

After an hour or so of determinedly not thinking about traveling westward, John says out of the blue, "You know, we have nine people."

"What do you mean?"

He gives her an expectant look, "The Nine, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth bumps him with her shoulder. "And you call Rodney the geek."

"I'm just sayin'. Let's hope that we don't find Shelob along the way."

Elizabeth laughs, "Ex vestri labiae ut deus audite."from your lips to god's hearing

Anbur slows a little, until he's next to Elizabeth. "Indeed. What is Shelob?"

"It's from a story, a giant spider, very nasty."

"We have many stories to tell one another."

"Yeah, but I'd probably better stick with Nightmare on Elm Street."

Anbur nods. "Ut sulum suus mos."to each his custom

John nudges Elizabeth, but she shakes her head. "No, I think I'll let you figure it out on your own. You need the practice."

"Yes, practice, very good." Anbur falls into the role of teacher and begins to put John through his paces, drilling him on declensions and tenses until, he calls a halt for rest.

John takes the opportunity to walk down the line and check on everyone, nodding at familiar faces and waving at Tazim. Paige is sitting with her eyes closed near Lorne and Cadman, who're sharing a canteen and sitting with their backs to the cart. "Every one okay?"

Lorne favors John with a slow smile. "It's a grape. We should do this every day. Oh, wait we have."

John smiles and nods then moves on to find Rodney munching on a power bar next to Shaaziya who's already asleep in the sand, their heads in the shade of a mesla. He gives Rodney's foot a nudge. "How're you doing?"

"M'fine. Hot, tired, sweaty, how did you think I was doing?"

"That's about right, actually. It's not too late to back out."

"No, I don't think so, Sheppard. I wouldn't miss this for the world." Rodney sneers the last sarcastically, but John knows that he really wouldn't; Rodney's been out in the field too long to be happy with only puttering around in the lab. Plus, there's the whole thing with living up to Shaaziya's expectations.

"Well, drink up." Rodney lifts his canteen in his other hand, and John leaves him to it.

Timmons and Chin are pulling up the rear and hauling on the leads of their recalcitrant mesla. "You okay with those things?"

Timmons answers far too cheerfully for the heat. "Sure, we're just getting acquainted. I'll have them eating out of my hand before you know it." Chin gives him a dark stare.

Cadman snorts. "Yeah, just wait 'til Hollywood here gets a good look at those teeth. I doubt he'll put his hand anywhere near 'em."

"Bad?" John questions.

Chin slaps the mesla closest to him "This one's already tried to take a bite out of my ass." He turns around and sure enough, there's a tear in the backside of his BDU's.

"You want to trade out, just ask."

"Nah, we're fine. Lu's just bitching." Timmons gives the Sergeant a little shove.

"Okay, take a load off, and drink up."

"Will do, sir."

Duty dispensed, John flops down in the sand and pulls out his canteen. It's just barely to the hottest part of the day, but John can't tell if it's just that he's more used to the heat now, or if it's just not as hot. "Anbur, is there a change of seasons?"

"Hmm?"

"Does it get cooler for part of the year?"

"Ah, the rains will come, perhaps before we return?"

"That's good to know." John makes a mental note to mention that to Caldwell at the evening radio check, thinks about the position of the Daedalus and the rock formation to the south. "Bad floods?"

"Some anam very bad. Rarely they come not."

"We're in a bad place, aren't we?"

"Just so."

He definitely needs to warn Caldwell, although they can't do anything except batten down the hatches and pray like hell.

They linger in the sand for a while longer until Anbur stands, and slowly every one rises and prepares to walk. "We will rest again for longer next time."

The hot sun is sucking the will out of everyone, and no one is making an effort to talk. John falls into the zone, one foot in front of the other, blinking the sweat from his eyes. The only sounds are the shush-shush of the brisk wind blowing across the tops of the dunes, and the noise of their feet as they trudge along, people breathing regularly.

It's a good place to stop thinking, concentrate only on movement and the desert. John thinks 'poisonous' when he spots snake tracks winding down the leeward slopes of the dunes, though it's only a guess, based on past experience.

The afternoon rest finally comes. A handful of large, open tents go up with ease, and a few folks are starting to brew tea over small, elaborate burners worked in familiar etching and designs.

Others are napping in the shade, while Baariq and Dara gather students for a lesson; viat is no reason to call a halt to learning. John does his rounds again to make sure that everyone is okay. Timmons is sound asleep under the shade of the cart; Cadman and Chin are leaning over the shoulders of their fellow students from N'vellesem in the front row. Rodney's nearby and listening in, while Shaaziya and Elizabeth are resting in the back of the tent. John skirts around the students and finds a shady spot near Rodney, then murmurs along in English as the lesson is read aloud.

"You're pretty good at this, Sheppard. I didn't expect that."

John starts, "Nobody expects..."

"The Spanish Inquisition!" Rodney finishes. "No really. You learned a lot in N'vellesem."

"Guess so. It was kind of sink or swim. Anbur found it easier to learn English."

Rodney flicks him on the back of the head. "Just take the compliment, Sheppard. It's not like I pass them out indiscriminately."

"Yeah, you must be ready to pop, I haven't heard you tear up anyone in weeks."

"Huh. Not much point in it, is there?"

"You mean people are suddenly not stupid?"

"There's no pressure, it doesn't really matter any more, does it?"

"Bored?"

"To tears some days. I'm rebuilding some of my papers from scratch, so it's actually pretty nice to just think theoretically for change, and not have someone die if I don't pull an answer out of my ass."

John grins from behind his shades. "Oh, is that where you keep them?"

"Yes, yes. Where all crappy ideas come from." Rodney snorts.

"They saved our asses a few times."

"You wonder what they're doing in Atlantis?"

"Nope," John says in a bald-faced lie.

"Yeah, me either. I'd go insane thinking of the mess that Zelenka is making."

John shoots Rodney a 'yeah, right' look from behind his shades, but they let their lies drop. He goes back to following the lesson, translating the words for Rodney.

Long after the lesson is complete, Tazim finds them laying side by side on a heavy felt carpet in the shade. He says the only English word he's learned so far, "Yes?" When John sits up, Tazim launches into the rest of his sentence in Peragro.

John pokes Rodney before he stands. "Hey, he wants us to have lunch with him."

"Do I have to move?"

"Probably."

Grumbling, Rodney gets up and checks that Shaaziya is still asleep, and then they trail after Tazim to his tent. Tazim introduces them to the few of the Zadiyeh that are waiting, and begins to serve the meal himself.

John guesses that it's a big deal, and thanks Tazim in Peragro and instructs Rodney, "Say ze'omlat kavela." He tastes the food first, even though he's pretty sure that these people have never heard of citrus fruit.

Rodney parrots the words back perfectly, and after John gives him the okay, Tazim takes pleasure in Rodney's obvious relish of the food. It's a rice-like dish with meat and rich spices, and a tiny cup of the ekal, the liquor that's like drinking fire.

"Be careful of that, it'll kick your ass."

Rodney sips it carefully, and then sets it aside. "Uhm, right, I think I'll pass. I'll never get anywhere if I'm falling down drunk."

John tosses his back and swallows with a grimace. "Lightweight."

"You want mine?"

"Not a chance."

Allmas, a small, chewy nut, follows the rice-like dish, and it's so sweet that John's throat actually spasms as he tries to swallow it. Tazim hands him the ever-present tea to wash it down. "Thanks", he gasps.

Rodney looks uncertain, and John warns him, "Don't eat it all at once—you'll probably go into insulin shock."

He nibbles on it, and nods. "It's good, I like it."

John tells Tazim, and he laughs loudly before popping one into his mouth and vigorously chewing it. Tazim explains that it's local to Zadiyeh and is a highly prized holiday treat everywhere else. He pulls them into conversation, mostly questions about where they're from, and is it true that it's the city of Qaral.

John mostly acts as translator for Rodney, who has quite a lot to say about Atlantis. Tazim's fascinated by Rodney's descriptions, and John sometimes lacks the words, but Rodney's hands tell the story when John can't, in between tiny sips of the ekal and tea. They spend the afternoon resting and chatting, teaching each other words and phrases. John likes Tazim. He's not as formal as Anbur, and he wields his wit like a sharp knife.

He's all about rumor and scuttlebutt, too; John gets to hear some of the rumors that have made their way to Zadiyeh, and Tazim gives him the opportunity for a rebuttal. The thing is, sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction, and John feels like he just has to let the rumors stand on their own.

After a few hours, the sun is nearly to the horizon, and Tazim tells them that it will soon be time to leave. John and Rodney thank Tazim again for his hospitality, and drag themselves out into the fading light. Rodney goes to look for Shaaziya and to grab a jacket for the coming evening.

Everyone seems more energetic than they'd been a few hours before. Tents are being drawn, squeaking mesla are being watered as packs are tightened on again, people are shouting over the din. John stops and takes it in. The sun in his eyes limns the mountaintops to the west in a haloed silhouette; the sunset paints the scene in hazy colors of purple, and bronze and magenta.

Suddenly John feels the vast historical significance of this ritual; that these people have been taking this route, this journey for longer than Earth's been civilized. Ancient was a concept that he'd never truly appreciated, even on Atlantis, for the city might be ten thousand years old, but it was also brilliantly new, and clever and interesting. These people—or their ancestors—had literally walked on Atlantis, among the Ancients themselves, eons ago, and they were a direct, living link to his city on the sea.

A fierce, sharp pain of homesickness strikes him as he watches the scene through a film of tears. Sure, he's missed Atlantis, worried about those that were left behind on their own. He'd been anxious to return when he was stuck in the misery of complicated negotiations in the SGC and in the boredom of weeks of subspace travel. He's felt lost, and unaccountable, and guilty and confused since the crash, and, until this moment, he's avoided really thinking about what he's lost. Now, maybe he can think about that, because he's been given something that might fill that void, a place he'd have never chosen, but it could be someplace he could call home.

John stands there just breathing; afraid to break the tenuous spell and afraid that he's permanently lost in it, until Elizabeth approaches him.

"John? They're almost ready to go."

He swallows hard to clear the lump in his throat, and keeps his face turned away from her. "Yeah, I'll be right there." He's not himself—boy, is he not himself.

"I'll have Major Lorne do the radio check," and then she leaves him to regain his equilibrium. He surreptitiously wipes his eyes under his sunglasses, and drags his hand across his thighs to hide away the evidence. When the column starts to move in the dim, chill starlight, John takes a deep breath and resumes his place.

 

Day One Hundred-Six

It's easier to travel at night, and the pace quickens, as everyone is rested and eager to stay warm with exertion. Rodney takes great glee in the scientific explanation of the aurora, and Anbur peppers Rodney with questions for hours, translating for Iqbal and Dara.

John doesn't understand this planet at all. These people are bright and intelligent, have a good knowledge of math and some science, have sharply maintained political skills, and yet they don't appear to have developed, or retained, any appreciable level of technology. Judging only by two towns is statistically unsound, but they don't seem to have very large populations, either. He listens to Rodney wowing the crowd as he mulls over the dichotomous nature of Dominat.

They don't stop again until they reach the gates of Ayse at dawn. The gates are closed, and like before, most simply sleep nested in the sand with their robes pulled in around them, huddled together, or with a smelly mesla for warmth.

John finds that his eyes keep sliding back to the gate, remembering in vivid detail the bloom of pain, feeling that sharp blade slicing into him and the terror of drowning in his own blood, the last glimpse of Rodney hovering over him, his own horror mirrored in those blue eyes. He's been ignoring it, shying away it. He'd been dead once before, but he'd returned as his same, essential self. Returning from the dead this time was far scarier. He'd died and come back as something else. He didn't want to be someone's Frankenstein's monster, hated that it set him apart.

When Lorne finds him and hands him a blanket; John forces himself to walk away, to shove back the memories and ignore them again. He trails after the Major; they've been so scattered all day that he probably needs to hang out with them, pretending that the feeling he would never call fear, rumbling in him deep and low, doesn't exist.

He positions himself with his back to the town and eyes to the sky, and while his team nestles in around him, John watches over them as they sleep.

~*~

The qerato's voice, calling the worthy to prayer, to rise up and meet the dawn, sends a shiver down John's spine, leaving him ill at ease and troubled. Rodney avoids meeting John's eyes, and his shoulders are round and taut with apprehension. Elizabeth looks as uncomfortable as he feels, but Shaaziya—she's humming along and smiling. She's not heard the qerato for many days; for her it's a joy and comfort.

John stuffs his blanket into the pack of one of the mesla, he's about to have that long-awaited freak out, and all he knows is that he can't do it here, in front of them. "I need to go talk to Anbur," he says stiffly as he quickly walks away. He wishes that he could walk away from the qerato, away from the sight of the now open gates and the town of Ayse brilliantly lit by the fast rising sun.

He's shaking by the time he finds Anbur flapping the dust from his robes. "Greetings of the day to you, John."

"Morning. Uh, do you have a minute, I mean can I talk to you?"

"Yes, what help can I give you?"

"I don't think I can do this."

"The viat?" Anbur gives him a curious look.

"No, that's fine, I just. Anbur, I died. I was murdered there," he points toward the city and yells, "I can't do this!" It's not really the horrific murder, but John can't voice his other fear out loud, not yet.

Anbur nods sadly, and he lays his arm across John's shoulder, gripping his arm. "Come, walk. Tell me," he says in a soft voice as he leads John away from the throng of waking people.

It's a measure of John's distress that he accepts Anbur's embrace, and he shakily spills out the details of his last visit to Ayse in Peragro and English as Anbur encourages him. He finally runs down with a whisper, "How can I go back?" John wants to be that guy again, the light colonel with the laconic demeanor, the easy going pilot with a lazy grin—he does not want to be whatever he is now.

Turning John, Anbur grasps both of his arms, staring at John with those sharp gray eyes, and he can't look away. "This is why the viat. You lead the viat, healing for not only your people, is for you. No hiding, is difficult to heal, learn to live is pain, but there is pleasure, hmm? Pass the pain and embrace all that comes. Forgive them and forgive yourself, you cannot go back and you cannot stand still. Only forward."

John's shivering in the still, cool air. "I think you just told me to buck up." He puts on a sardonic smile, "It was a joke."

Anbur shakes his head. "I do not have words for your need, John. Perhaps there are none, your pain is great and old, but you have strength. If you cannot do this now, it will only wait for you, hmm?"

"We call it putting off the inevitable." John takes a deep breath, "So, going forward."

"Yes, you have many to stand at your side, some with troubles also. Ego steti vobis."I stand with you

"Ego steti vobis. Right."

"You are okay?"

"No, but I will be."

"Come, we will eat, and you will see."

Anbur maintains his hold on John's arm, until they return to where John's team is camped out. John kneels down in the sand and accepts the peanut butter sandwich Elizabeth hands to him. She begins to make another for Anbur and asks in a deceptively mild voice, "So what's the plan for today?"

John swallows. "I think I have to go into town. You and Rodney should too, probably.

Rodney gives him a look filled with uncertainty. "Really? Shaaziya's already gone in, and I uh..."

"Yeah, think so." John doesn't look up from the sandwich in his hand, tearing another bite off the edge.

"Well, I'm going with you," Lorne says, and John looks up, and the rest of them are nodding, looking serious.

Anbur grasps John's shoulder and squeezes it as if to say 'I told you so.' "Tonight we leave, but we may go to Ayse as we wish today."

Elizabeth hands Anbur his sandwich. "We should go right after breakfast, and rest this afternoon."

John just nods. "Do we have anything to drink? This peanut butter is killing me here."

"Tazim brought us some tea."

"That'd be great," he says. He thinks 'I’d rather have some ekal,' but the tea is hot and sweet, and its warmth spreads through him. "This is a hundred times better than that Athosian bark stuff we had to drink."

There's short, surprised pause at the mention, and then Rodney gets it. "God, yes. It's almost better than coffee."

Anbur waves his sandwich. "I like your coffee very much."

"Rodney lives on it." Elizabeth quirks an eyebrow at Rodney, who ignores her ribbing.

"Hmm, maybe not so much. This is interesting, but difficult to eat."

"Mom used to tell me it would stick to my ribs," Lorne ventures.

Cadman laughs, "And everything else, too. I hope that's the last of it because I hate peanut butter."

"But you ate two of them!" Rodney sounds incredulous.

She gives him a playful shove. "Duh, McKay, so did you—it's what's for breakfast."

Elizabeth apologizes, "I'm sorry, Laura, but I think we’ve packed at least a couple more jars."

Rodney snaps his fingers. "Hey! I bet we could trade it to Tazim for some of that rice stuff."

John listens quietly as they discuss the trade possibilities, gathering strength from those that stand with him. He washes a second sandwich down with tea as they talk, and when he's ready he stands up. "Let's do this. Is our stuff going to be okay out here, Anbur?"

Anbur whistles loudly and waves at Sabat, one of the older students from Elizabeth's class. He dredges up few lammincia and presses it into her hands, whereupon she climbs up onto the cart grinning and kicking her heels against the side. "Sabat will stay until you return."

Everyone who had studied in N'vellesem knows her well; Sabat's aptitude in class was exceeded only by her skill as the class clown, often landing her in trouble. John gives her a quick smile and proceeds to kick himself that he hadn't thought of that as they walk towards the gates of Ayse.

The town hasn't changed. The people shopping in the market ignore them as before, but those few that bother to watch as they walk through take note of Idon of the N'vellesem, and their outright rudeness is abated. The fountain is crowded in the cooler morning sun, and again only a few children are seen amongst the adults.

Paige has been virtually silent until now, taking in the experience. "Anbur, please don't take offense, but I'm surprised at the lack of obvious disease, and the low number of children. You said that you brought all of the children from school?"

"Yes, all but the smallest."

"That's not very many."

"Rememdium heal the sick, but only some children born each anam. This is reason for our peace."

She nods. "Is it a low conception rate or a high spontaneous abortion rate?"

Anbur gives her a blank look, and Elizabeth explains her question in Ancient. "Hmm, yes, many with child, but perhaps half born at time? Has always been this way on Dominat."

"I understand." Paige glances at Rodney, who's staring at her with a stricken expression. "I have a theory."

"It's the higher gravity. Or the ambient radiation, oh! The high concentration of heavy metals—ten thousand years evolution-wise, I would have thought some adjustment..."

She firmly interrupts Rodney, "I'd like very much to speak with the rememdium before we leave today."

Anbur gives her a confused look. "So sad, Zainab was burned years ago, none to take her place here. Neela travels, but she is old."

No one comments, because they now know that there's no way a rememdium could've healed John.

John wonders if N'vellesem could someday soon be in the same position as Ayse, if this is a cycle, or if Dominat is about to have a serious medical crisis. He thinks about Laith in Tobat, and if he might be willing to relocate, or if Maisa would firmly hold onto her replacement rememdium, considering Haitham's age.

Paige speaks quietly to Anbur and then pulls John and Elizabeth aside to walk well behind the rest of the team. Anbur keeps Rodney moving and out of the conversation. "I'm recommending that Shaaziya go back to the Daedalus, and I should go back with her," she says in a low voice that won't carry forward.

"I not disagreeing, but I'm sure that Carson's perfectly capable of dealing with this."

"To be frank Elizabeth, Carson's a geneticist, and I'll be consulting with him in that regard, but I've been doing Shaaziya's OB check ups, and I seriously doubt that she'd allow him that liberty."

John can't entirely erase the plaintive tone of his voice. "Rodney'll insist on going with you."

Paige pins John down with a level stare. "That's entirely up to Dr. McKay, but I personally think she may need his support sooner than later."

"That bad?"

"I have no idea, Colonel, which is why we need to return to the ship. There's no way you want to deal with the risks and consequences of a spontaneous abortion while traveling on foot without access to advanced medical facilities."

"Do you think she'll go?" Elizabeth asks.

"I'm positive. This child is incredibly important to her, and she's gotten it into her head that it's more than just her baby."

John says slowly, "She may be right."

"What are you saying?"

"We already know that her child has the ATA gene; didn't Rodney tell you?" John doesn't look at Paige; his gaze is drawn to the archway. He swallows down the sick feeling as he sees the courtyard beyond.

"No, what are you talking about?"

John points up at the imposing gateway to the temple. "This, the Arch of Qaralyn."

 

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