Torchwoodgate Year One - Ch 10 - The City On the Edge of Forever
Title: Torchwoodgate - Year One
Author: Soledad
Aithor's Note: For disclaimer, rating, etc. go to the secondary index page
Sergeant Hagiwara is one of the nameless extras occasionally seen in Atlantis’ Gate room.
Beware the big, honking AU label. Everything that is different is also meant to be different.
We never actually learned what kind of creatures destroyed Jack’s childhood home, or how it happened. So I’ve taken some poetic licence here.
CHAPTER 10 - THE CITY ON THE EDGE OF FOREVER
“They want us to do what for them?” Professor Taylor asked in shock.
“Nothing from you, obviously,” Jack snapped at him, irritated. “You aren’t a gene carrier, after all. It all comes down to the ones of us who are.”
“They want children!” Dr Chandra Suresh realized. As a geneticist of long experience, he was understandably the first to figure it out. “Children from gene carriers, so that the ATA gene would be introduced into their population as well.”
“Which is understandable, from where they’re standing,” Captain Magambo added. “They might not build technology of their own, but they can use it, if it’s offered them. Having the ATA gene would be a serious advantage for them.”
“Perhaps,” Professor Taylor allowed. “But have you considered that the Ancients might have had a reason for not handing down the gene to the primitives of this galaxy? What if they didn’t want to leave behind any progeny that could be forced by the Wraith to use Ancient technology to their advantage?”
“How do you know that’s what happened?” Captain Price asked. “We’ve only met the Athosians so far. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds of inhabited planets in this galaxy… who says we won't find any gene carriers later on?”
“If there were any, the Athosians would have already found them,” Professor Taylor argued.
Dr. Julia Simpson shook her head. “Not necessarily. I was there when Doctor Grodin found the Atlantis database; it has hundreds of Gate addresses listed. Several hundred planets with a Stargate - with potential gene carriers. The Athosians know four, perhaps five dozen of them.”
“There is another aspect of this,” Sevarion Kirkitadze, the expedition’s lawyer, a short, powerful, hawk-faced man in his early fifties, said. “As Captain Magambo has pointed out, having the ATA gene is a serious advantage. One, that - as far as we know - only our people have in this galaxy. Are we willing to give up our advantage? To share it with other people?”
“Yes, that is something we must consider very carefully,” Dr. Shaw agreed. “What do you think Jack? Would it be wise to do so? You seem to have your doubts.”
“My problem isn’t giving up a tactical advantage,” Jack replied grimly. “My problem is giving up a child. I’ve already left a daughter behind, on Earth. I’m not ready to lose another one.”
“Then don’t… sir,” Private Jenkins hurriedly corrected himself. “I’ll do it.”
“You?” Captain Price stared at the young man in surprise.
Jenkins shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time that I… erm… donated. I used to be a registered donor at a fertility clinic. It ain’t a big deal.”
“As long as you manage to forget that you might have half a dozen kids growing up without a father, no, it ain’t,” Jack returned.
“Before we get carried away with moral considerations, we should figure out if Athosians and humans are genetically compatible at all,” Mohinder Suresh, a name-worthy geneticist on his own right, intervened.
Captain Price gave him a surprised look. “Why shouldn’t we? The Athosians are human, aren’t they?”
“They look human enough,” the younger geneticist corrected, “but we know nothing about their genetic make-up yet. There are different possibilities, most of which don’t look very promising. If we’re the same genus but not the same species, we can have children with the Athosians, but these would be all infertile - like mules, coming from horses and donkeys. A useful subspecies, but genetically seen a failure. A dead end in the evolutionary process.”
“I don’t think that would be what the Athosians wanted,” Ianto commented softly. “What if we’re the same species, though?”
“There still could be significant differences in our genetic sequencing,” Mohinder answered. “Differences big enough to result in physically deformed or mentally disabled progeny. Or both. Which couldn’t be the Athosians’ intent, either.”
“Is there any way to know these things for sure?” Mikka Toivannen, a straw-blond Finnish engineer with a shockingly red beard (both completely natural) asked.
“Mappin’ the Athosian genome would be the first step,” Carson Beckett replied with a heavy sigh. “But that would take bloody months; perhaps even years, if they’re different enough.”
“We don’t have months, let alone years!” Professor Taylor protested. “We need to search that city, now, while Atlantis is still intact. There could be a ZedPM among those ruins, or lots of drones for the chair, or…”
“It doesn’t matter what might be there,” Liz Shaw said sharply. “We won’t do anything against the Athosians’ wishes. This is still their planet; and their right to choose the risks they’re willing to take.”
“It ain’t your decision!” Professor Taylor snapped. “As the ranking scientist here…”
“…you can shut up before I, as the ranking military officer here, shoot you on the spot,” Jack retorted, and Professor Taylor had the self-protective instinct to back off. Jack then turned to Liz Shaw. “Look, what about simply telling the Athosians the truth? They’re a reasonable people. I’m sure they wouldn’t do anything that might endanger their children.”
“Let’s hope so,” Liz Shaw sighed. “I’ll speak with the elders again. If at least one of you gene carriers is willing to… erm… donate, at least in theory, we might get our chance with the city, after all.”
“I must admit that I’m still not entirely comfortable with the idea - not even in theory,” Captain Price said.
“Neither am I,” Liz Shaw admitted. “But we need to have something we can offer the Athosians. I only hope it will be enough.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the end, it proved to be easier than they’d have expected. As Jack had pointed out, the Athosians were a reasonable people - and not entirely ignorant about the problems of interracial breeding.
“We have tried to find suitable spouses on other worlds,” a young blonde woman by the name of Anika, who was their village healer or something like that, explained with Corrigan’s help. “Sometimes it turned out good and gave the tribe healthy, gifted children. At other times there were either no children at all, or they were born misshapen or feeble-minded. Your healers could find out in advance what to expect?”
“Some of them can,” Liz Shaw answered. “That bearded older man spent his whole life with such research, and his son now follows the same path. They say they can do this, but it would take time. And they’d have to do some tests.”
“What kind of tests?” Charin asked warily. Clearly, the word had a bad sound to her.
“They’d take some of your blood, examine it and compare it with ours,” Liz Shaw explained. “Then they’ll make a detailed list about the similarities and the differences, and calculate the possible risks of cross-breeding between our people.”
The elders looked at Anika, who shrugged. “Sounds harmless enough.”
“It is harmless,” Liz Shaw assured. “Before coming here, we used to have regular blood tests, to make sure we won’t take any illnesses here, against which you might not have natural immunity. I assume further tests would be necessary to find out what bacteria or viruses live here we have no immunity against.”
“We need to make sure we wannae harm each other in any way,” Beckett added. He’d been invited along to this meeting by Dr. Shaw, both as the chief medical officer of the expedition and the one with perhaps the strongest ATA gene. “I wannae lie to you, love; this will be a lot of work before we can figure out whether it’s safe for us to cross-breed or not.”
“We understand that,” Teyla said after a brief consultation with the other elders. “We do not want to endanger our future children in the womb, either. But if you are willing, should it prove safe, then we are willing to take the risk of allowing you to search the old city. Even settle there, if it suits your needs.”
“For that, we are grateful,” Dr. Shaw said. “Once we can unpack our medical equipment, we shall start with the blood tests and the research. Perhaps we’ll even find something in the old city that helps us with it. The Ancients had a medical technology that far surpasses ours.”
“But you cannot move to the old city right away,” Halling warned. “There may be traps, set by the Ancestors to keep invaders out… or by the Wraith to capture those who dare to venture into the city.”
“We won’t just blunder in,” Liz Shaw replied. “We shall send a small survey team with one of the ships we brought from… from the planet we had to leave,” they still hadn’t told the Athosians that they’d come from Atlantis. It was by no means sure the locals would even know about the city-ship, and if they did, it would have been foolhardy to reveal its location before they had control over the systems. “A team of engineers and technicians and people who can use Ancient technology, to look for traps and disable them before the rest of us would move in.”
“I would like to go with them,” Teyla declared. It wasn’t a request, and they all knew it, even if it was phrased like one. She had every right to watch them.
“So would I,” Halling added. “Should there be any messages from the Ancestors, I must see it and add it to the tradition.”
Realizing that Halling was probably the closest thing the Athosians had to a priest, Dr. Shaw agreed. And thus it was decided that they will send the survey team to the ruined city first thing in the morning.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The little gateship was about the coolest thing Jack had ever flown in his entire life - and he had flown his fair share of cool vessels before being stranded on 19th century Earth. Including his little Chulan spaceship and the TARDIS. All right, he’d never actually flown the TARDIS, although he had sometimes helped the doctor piloting her… with mixed results. The TARDIS was a capricious lady with a will of her own - or malfunctioning, depending on one’s point of view. Even the Doctor had a hard time to make her cooperate.
But this little darling… Jack walked around the gateship and patted its outer hull lovingly. It was small and compact, almost like a car, and as soon as he touched it, it came to life with flickering lights and a low hum, as if it wanted to greet him.
He knew it was the gene - the ship reacted the same way to Ianto, after all - and yet he couldn’t stop grinning in delight. Automobile freaks would probably react similarly if offered a beautiful, fully functional old-timer for free.
Ianto was watching him with tolerant amusement. “Should I feel jealous?” he asked.
Jack laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Ianto, look at this baby! Ain’t she just perfect? Designed to go through the Gate, reacting to our thoughts?”
“Oh, it’s a she now, isn’t it?” Ianto shook his head, smiling. “Well, as long as it isn’t another guy, just a spaceship, I reckon I’m safe enough. But Jack, I’m coming with you.”
“Ianto…” Jack began, but Ianto cut off his protest.
“It’s not up to debate, Jack. I’m coming for Doctor Shaw and to record things we may find. The others will be busy checking out the city or establishing a defence perimeter. Someone ought to make detailed records. And I’m the best person to do it; you know that.”
That was very true, of course, so Jack grudgingly backed off. The survey team had gathered in the meantime. It was a fairly colourful mix, consisting of two engineers (doctors Simpson and Kavanagh), one systems technician (Sergeant Jenny Hagiwara), three Marines (Stackhouse, Markham and Yamato), Doctor Beckett, Doctor Corrigan and the two Athosian elders.
Some of the expedition members, like Beckett and Markham, had the gene, while the others had not. It was a conscious choice; they needed people who could activate Ancient technology, but they had to take into consideration that some Wraith traps, would specifically react to Ancient physiology and such to the gene as well.
“Everybody ready to leave?” Jack asked brightly. “Well, let’s board our ship, shall we?”
They were a little crowded in the passenger section, especially with the large toolkits of the two engineers underfoot, but it was bearable. Jack ordered Markham to take the co-pilot’s seat next to him - the boy had the gene, after all, and needed to learn how to fly the ship. Even if he was still green behind the ears.
“So, Jamie, do you remember which direction the valley lies from the Athosian village?” he asked, trying to imagine their surroundings.
Before Markham could have answered, a three-dimensional holomap popped up in the air, right in front of their eyes. Both their camp and the Athosian village were clearly recognizable from the bird’s-eye perspective. So was the small circle of the Stargate and, in a certain distance, the valley with the ruined city.
“Wow!” Markham breathed in eye, his eyes wide and round like those of a little boy in a toy shop. “That’s way cool…”
Jack had to admit that the boy was right. He tried not to drool himself, but it was hard to hold back.
“Well,” he said, “why don’t we take a closer look, now that there can’t be any questions about the direction?”
As if by magic, the little ship lifted off the ground, levitated just above the trees for a moment, and then turned in a gentle curve into the direction where, still hidden from the human eye, the valley with the Ancient city lay.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The distance was not a really big one, at least not by shuttle; Jack still found it strange that the Ancients would build their city so far from the Stargate. That would make it harder to flee to other planets in case of an attack.
“Correct, sir; but it would also gave them time to prepare for an attack, assuming they had some sort of Gate alarm installed,” Stackhouse, who’d come forth to the cockpit, so that he could watch the landscape through the front window, pointed out.
“Good tactical thinking, Sergeant.” Jack gave the young Staff Sergeant an appreciating look.
Stackhouse shrugged. “I used to have my own squad in Iraq, sir, and also led a few off-world missions at the SGC on my own whenever Gene was down with some bug. I’m used to this.”
Gene, that was Master Sergeant Michael Eugene Bates, who - Jack knew already - was on first-name basis with exactly two people in the expedition: Stackhouse himself, and his second-in-command, McKinney. Everyone else quaked in their boots before him… well, except the two UNIT captains. But even those treated him with respect.
“We’ll need people with command experience once we’ve gotten settled,” Jack said. “Do you feel up to lead one of the survey teams on a permanent basis? Since you’re the only people with off-world experience, we can’t afford the luxury to leave the Marine squad intact. I think we should split it between you and Sergeant Bates and fill in the numbers with newbies.”
“That could work,” Stackhouse agreed. “If you trust me with this, sir, I’m game. I’d like to have Jamie with me, though,” he nodded towards Markham. “I promised his Mom to keep an eye on him.”
“Hey!” Markham protested indignantly. “I don’t need a babysitter!”
“You’re not getting one,” Stackhouse countered. “You’re getting me, because I promised - and because it makes me sleep better. So suck up and shut up, you don’t have a vote in this.”
Jack smiled as he listened to their good-natured banter. Markham was suffering from the baby face syndrome; not only was he the youngest Marine in the entire squad, he’d also practically grown up with Stackhouse, who - although only some two years older - was the best (or worst, depending on your point of view) big brother to him: always practical, always concerned about his friend’s safety, and ready to intervene when he saw it necessary.
Jack had seen Markham during firearm training, during unarmed combat training and working with alien technology and knew that Jamie was more than capable of protecting himself. But again, so were the members of Jack’s team, and that fact didn’t make Jack worry about them any less. Which only proved that Stackhouse indeed had what it took to be a good leader. A bit over-concerned perhaps, but that came from his youth. He’d grow into the task well enough.
“All right,” he said. “You can have him. But try not to smother him completely. You’re worse than a mother hen.”
Stackhouse grinned. “I can’t help it, sir. I was the youngest in the family, with both my Dad and my brother in the Corps. I need someone of my own to smother. By the way,” he added, peering through the windshield with interest, “I’d say we’ve arrived.”
As if given a sign, all others jumped to their feet and tried to storm the cockpit, so that they could finally see something, and for a moment Jack got ridiculously nervous about the ship tipping forward and crashing, although, rationally, he knew how unlikely that would be. It still could have caused problems in the narrow cockpit, had Private Yamato not planted himself firmly in the open doorway that led to the passenger compartment.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “but the pilots need room to fly this vessel.”
The others backed off at once, because while Yamato might look slim and short, it was a know fact that he’d brought down Teal’c in unarmed combat, and that repeatedly. So it was better to obey if he gave an order. Other than his deadly skills with or without an actual weapon, he was a friendly and sociable guy, and people did their best to keep him that way.
Teyla and Halling watched the little scene with interest. They didn’t need to be told to realize that this slender young man was most likely an excellent warrior. Even though he didn’t have the gift to operate the technology of the Ancestors, he’d be an excellent addition to any clan that needed a new spouse.
Jack landed the gateship in what he thought would be safe distance from the city and sent out the Marines and Sergeant Hagiwara to secure the entranceway to the valley. Doctor Kavanagh went with them, carrying an Ancient sensor that had been calibrated to detect any surveillance devices left by the Wraith or any booby traps left by the Ancients themselves. Or so they hoped. Markham, the only one with the gene among them, took the rear and followed them from considerable distance, lest he would set off something by accident.
The others climbed atop the gateship, from where they could get a sneak peek at that which lay before them. Even from this far, it was a spectacular sight.
The city went on all along the valley, as far as they could tell; a roofless maze of crumbled walls and shattered pillars, all made of local stone, once perhaps white but now grey and withered with age. There were interconnected rooms, large, empty halls, fountains and pools that had long dried out, and open courts that once might have been filled with well-ordered gardens but were now overgrown with vegetation. It was dead and empty and abandoned, but - strangely enough - it didn’t look in any way damaged, save from the wear of time and weather.
“There was no battle,” Jack realized with a jolt. “There are no bomb crates or any sign of violent destruction. Could it be that the Wraith never found this place?”
“If they haven’t, why didn’t the Ancients hide out in here?” Corrigan argued. “Why would they go to the caves?”
“It wasn’t the Ancients who hid in the caves,” Jack reminded him. “Those were the forefathers of the Athosians.”
“Still, the Wraith mustae known about the existence of the city,” Beckett said. “How come they havnae destroyed it?”
“Perhaps they had no reason for it,” Ianto replied thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s been abandoned by the Ancients well before the end of the war. Then it would have served the Wraith’s purposes much better as a trap.”
The Athosians asked Corrigan for translation; then Halling nodded.
“The old tales tell us that the Ancients abandoned this city long before the Great War was lost,” he said. “When the Wraith came, our people tried to flee to the city, but whenever someone ventured there, it led to a new attack. Finally, we have given up on the city. No-one has come here for uncounted generations… not that we would know of it, that is.”
“Let’s hope Doctor Kavanagh can find the Wraith surveillance devices,” Jack commented grimly. The last thing he wanted was to lure those monsters to Athos again; and that at a time when his own people were utterly vulnerable, still living in tents.
Dr. Simpson patted his arm encouragingly. “Think positively,” he said. “Kavanagh can be a jerk sometimes, but he’s damn good at what he does.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As it turned out, she’d been right. Less than an hour alter the survey team returned, Kavanagh bringing half a dozen small devices with him.
“I found these strategically placed in a semi-circle of a diameter of about a hundred metres right at the entrance of the valley,” he explained. “They appear to be comm devices of some sort, capable of sending a one-way signal through hyperspace. I’ve short-circuited them with the help of a portable EM-emitter; they ought to be harmless now.”
“Ought to be?” Jack repeated with a frown. Kavanagh shrugged.
“Well, they’re not emitting any energy signature right now. But this is a technology I’ve never seen before, so I can’t give you absolute guarantees.”
“Can they recharge themselves?” Jack asked.
“I’ve honestly no idea,” Kavanagh admitted. “The best solution would be to destroy them, of course, but I’m not sure P90s could do the trick.”
“Then we’ll need something with a bit more juice,” Jack looked at Ianto. “Have you brought the Jamolean lance?”
“Of course,” Ianto replied matter-of-factly, as if Jack had asked for a handkerchief, and presented the required weapon.
Jack took it from him, thrust the weapon's barrel against one of the devices, and then pulled the trigger. The exothermic reaction produced by the lance melted the Wraith device into a puddle of useless plastic and metal.
“Well,” Jack eyed the molten remains with satisfaction, “we can thereby officially reassure that it works on inorganic material just as well,” he pushed the lance into Ianto’s hand to finish off the other devices, then turned back to Kavanagh. “Have you found anything else that seemed suspicious, Doc?”
The pony-tailed scientist shook his head. “Nothing so far. I’d suggest that gene carriers hold back from touching any unknown piece of equipment before Simpson or I have tested them, though.”
“All right,” Jack looked at Ianto, Markham and Beckett. “You heard the man: no feeling up any cool toys before they’re declared safe.”
“You havnae got to warn me off, Captain,” Beckett pulled a face. “I wouldnae even get close to Ancient tech if the scientists didnae drag me to help them all the time.”
“That’s because we need your gene in order to do our jobs,” Simpson returned. "You’re such a wet blanket when it comes to technology, Carson, it’s not even funny!”
“Well, I’m a bloody doctor, not some stage magician!” Beckett snapped.
“Play nice, children,” Jack intervened before they could have gotten into a real fight. “We’ve got an Ancient city to explore - let’s do it!”
The others were eager to do just that. Stackhouse took point, and with him went Doctor Kavanagh, scanning the area relentlessly, to spot any other possible surprises left by the Wraith. Julia Simpson was only a step or so behind them, busy with her own scanner.
“Captain,” she said to Jack after they’d reached the entrance of the valley, “I’m picking up energy signatures ahead of us.”
“What kind of energy signatures?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure,” Simpson consulted her instruments with a frown. “They’re scattered and erratic. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“Let me see it,” Kavanagh turned around, but Simpson snapped at him in annoyance.
“Do your own job, mister! I’m capable of doing mine, without your constant interference, thank you very much!”
Kavanagh opened his mouth to answer something but changed his mind in a sudden bout of self-preservation and stomped away, muttering darkly under his breath. Jack suppressed a grin. The relationship between Simpson and Kavanagh - calling it a love affair would have been exaggerated - had been the worst kept secret of the SGC already. Considering their spectacular - and very vocal - public fights whenever they happened to disagree about any scientific matter (which happened at least once a day), the wildest speculations about their private life were running circles among the rest of the expedition. Jack for his part was fairly sure they had a somewhat bland sex life. After all, they usually worked until they collapsed over their laptops, and worked out any possible differences through their geek spats. There was no way they’d have the strength for sexual acrobatics afterwards.
“So, the energy signature,” Jack pressed.
“Well, it’s definitely Ancient, not that that would be surprising,” Simpson replied, all professional again. “The problem is, I can’t localize its exact source. It comes from somewhere within the city, but that’s the closest thing I can tell you, I’m sorry.”
She seemed to see this as a personal failure. Her face reddened with anger so much that her freckles had become invisible. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, not even remotely pretty, but very sharp and practical-minded, and Jack had learned during SCG training to appreciate her insights and endurance.
“Don’t take it personally,” he said. “Such things happen. Let’s simply follow the general direction of the readings and see what we’ll find.”
Simpson nodded curtly and stomped after Kavanagh. Sergeant Hagiwara and Yamato caught up with them, wielding their own scanners. They had to check every yard of walkway before them, to spot any possible Wraith devices that might react to Ancient DNA, before the gene carriers could enter.
They’d found nothing so far, and when they’d checked out a square tower that happened to have a balcony and declared it safe, both structurally and technology-wise, Jack decided to climb up to the balcony and take a look at the ruins from there.
“Perhaps we can make a preliminary map, using the holographic binoculars and your records,” he said to Ianto, while the two scientists and Sergeant Hagiwara were trying to figure out what the console in the single room at the ground level might have been for, and the soldiers looked for anything that could make the place blow up.
Ianto nodded noncommittally and followed him across the open court that led to the entrance of the tower. He didn’t seem the least surprised that Jack had apparently managed to smuggle through the controls some more gadgets, such ones that hadn’t even been on his list. Like the binoculars Jack still had from his years as a Time Agent.
But perhaps he knew it already. Ianto had an uncanny ability to know anything related to Jack, to the Torchwood Three team, to the Hub or to Torchwood in general. That was what made him so valuable as an archivist.
And the fact that he didn’t tend to babble, of course.
He wasn’t making any comments now, either, as the two of them climbed the battered stone steps that wound upwards around a central column through the square tower. Jack calculated the height in his head and came to the conclusion that the tower had to be at least five storeys high.
“More like six, considering the measures of contemporary architecture,” Ianto said. “Strange that there aren’t any other rooms between the ground level and the balcony. I wonder what this place was used for. A watchtower perhaps? Or a relay station? Or just a border marker?”
“Let’s hope the geeks will be able to figure it out,” Jack replied absently. “Look, I’ve found the balcony door. Perhaps we’ll see something interesting from here.”
“Yeah; more ruins, most likely,” Ianto muttered. He wasn’t as fond of great heights as Jack, although he wasn’t exactly afraid of them, either. He just didn’t see the attraction in climbing up laboriously a thousand steps, just to look down at things he wouldn’t see well anyway, because of the distance.
Still as he stepped out onto the balcony next to Jack, even he had to admit that the sight was spectacular indeed. A ruined city of this size, with its narrow streets and overhanging structures, should have felt oppressive - only that it didn’t. Perhaps it was the fact that it had been ruined, not destroyed. Perhaps it was the elegant design of the crumbled structures. Perhaps the alabaster-like quality of the withered stone that seemed almost translucent in places - Jack couldn’t really tell. He only knew that the city, even in its ruins, was beautiful.
From their vantage point, they could see a large, mostly intact building halfway the central street that seemed to run diagonally across the whole city, some of its soaring spires still stretching towards the sky. Its main entrance looked at the street; an entranceway with triple archways, its heavy, ornate doors still in place. When Jack adjusted the binoculars and gave them Ianto, the young man gaped in awe.
“Most amazing!” he murmured. “Definitely the same architecture as Atlantis herself, just older, much older. I wonder what purpose it might have served. Perhaps you should send someone forward to take a closer look.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar, hand-held device… or, to be more accurate, one half of it. “Why don’t we take a look ourselves?”
“Jack, you can’t be serious!” Ianto protested. “Have you forgotten how dangerous this thing is?”
“Relax; it’s just the half that shows us the past,” Jack replied. Ianto raised an eyebrow.
“And that makes it right? I don’t think so. How on Earth did you manage to lift it from the storage box in Gateship Three?”
“I didn’t” Jack replied simply. “The thing lying there is a fake. I’ve hidden the real item among my clothes.”
“Fantastic!” Ianto’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You just couldn’t bear other people taking your toy away, could you? I still can’t imagine how you did it, though. I saw with my own eyes how you handed this - and it was the true item, I know that, I checked it myself - to Doctor Shaw.”
“Sleigh-of-hand,” Jack shrugged. “I used to be a con man, remember?”
“Lord help me!” Ianto rolled his eyes. “I’ve married a criminal!”
“At least your life’s never gonna be boring with me,” Jack grinned unrepentantly.
Ianto’s eyebrow climbed to the roots of his hair. “You do know that’s an old Chinese curse, don’t you? To wish someone they may live in interesting times?”
“Am I truly a curse to you?” Jack asked jokingly but was clearly a little hurt.
“You aren’t and you know that,” Ianto replied. “It’s just… you should find a way to get your impulsive nature under better control. To think of the possible consequences before you act. The rest of us, we ain’t indestructible; and perhaps you aren’t, either. You just haven’t met a true challenge yet.”
“Hey!” Jack took Ianto’s face in his hands and looked into the young man’s worried eyes. “I’m not gonna walk into gunfire headfirst. I’m just taking a trip into the past of this place.”
“And who says that couldn’t be every bit as dangerous as gunfire?” Ianto asked seriously. But he could see on Jack’s stubborn face that Jack was going to do this, with or without his consent. “All right,” he said with a weary sigh. “But I’m coming with you.”
“That’s out of question,” Jack replied promptly. Ianto raised a sardonic eyebrow.
“I believe you don’t get the point, Jack,” he said in an extremely dry tone. “What’s out of question is you, blundering into something potentially lethal without me. Either you take me with you, or I’ll tell Doctor Shaw how you’ve tricked her. It’s that simple.”
“That,” Jack said accusingly, “is blackmail.”
“Yes,” Ianto replied with a bland smile. “Is it working?”
“Course it is,” Jack muttered. “You know me too well; know which buttons to push to make me do what you want.”
Which wasn’t exactly true, but in the light of his victory, Ianto wasn’t about to argue.
“It’s only in your best interest,” he said with mock haughtiness. “You’d be lost without me, sir.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Jack smiled at him, a small, intimate smile few other people have ever seen. “Come on, then, Mr. Jones. Let’s visit the past.”
He laid Ianto’s hand upon the ghost machine and covered it with his own, so that they both touched the glossy black surface. Then he pushed the big, round button in the front. Their surroundings became blurred at once, as if they were standing in thick fog. Then it cleared up, just a little, and they were looking down at the Ancient city, as it had been ten thousand or more years ago. An elegant white city, full of spires and turrets and towers, all built of flawless, translucent stone.
If it was beautiful in ruins, it had been a true marvel to behold in its heyday indeed.
Chapter 11 - The Ghosts of Ten Thousand Years Past
Author: Soledad
Aithor's Note: For disclaimer, rating, etc. go to the secondary index page
Sergeant Hagiwara is one of the nameless extras occasionally seen in Atlantis’ Gate room.
Beware the big, honking AU label. Everything that is different is also meant to be different.
We never actually learned what kind of creatures destroyed Jack’s childhood home, or how it happened. So I’ve taken some poetic licence here.
CHAPTER 10 - THE CITY ON THE EDGE OF FOREVER
“They want us to do what for them?” Professor Taylor asked in shock.
“Nothing from you, obviously,” Jack snapped at him, irritated. “You aren’t a gene carrier, after all. It all comes down to the ones of us who are.”
“They want children!” Dr Chandra Suresh realized. As a geneticist of long experience, he was understandably the first to figure it out. “Children from gene carriers, so that the ATA gene would be introduced into their population as well.”
“Which is understandable, from where they’re standing,” Captain Magambo added. “They might not build technology of their own, but they can use it, if it’s offered them. Having the ATA gene would be a serious advantage for them.”
“Perhaps,” Professor Taylor allowed. “But have you considered that the Ancients might have had a reason for not handing down the gene to the primitives of this galaxy? What if they didn’t want to leave behind any progeny that could be forced by the Wraith to use Ancient technology to their advantage?”
“How do you know that’s what happened?” Captain Price asked. “We’ve only met the Athosians so far. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds of inhabited planets in this galaxy… who says we won't find any gene carriers later on?”
“If there were any, the Athosians would have already found them,” Professor Taylor argued.
Dr. Julia Simpson shook her head. “Not necessarily. I was there when Doctor Grodin found the Atlantis database; it has hundreds of Gate addresses listed. Several hundred planets with a Stargate - with potential gene carriers. The Athosians know four, perhaps five dozen of them.”
“There is another aspect of this,” Sevarion Kirkitadze, the expedition’s lawyer, a short, powerful, hawk-faced man in his early fifties, said. “As Captain Magambo has pointed out, having the ATA gene is a serious advantage. One, that - as far as we know - only our people have in this galaxy. Are we willing to give up our advantage? To share it with other people?”
“Yes, that is something we must consider very carefully,” Dr. Shaw agreed. “What do you think Jack? Would it be wise to do so? You seem to have your doubts.”
“My problem isn’t giving up a tactical advantage,” Jack replied grimly. “My problem is giving up a child. I’ve already left a daughter behind, on Earth. I’m not ready to lose another one.”
“Then don’t… sir,” Private Jenkins hurriedly corrected himself. “I’ll do it.”
“You?” Captain Price stared at the young man in surprise.
Jenkins shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time that I… erm… donated. I used to be a registered donor at a fertility clinic. It ain’t a big deal.”
“As long as you manage to forget that you might have half a dozen kids growing up without a father, no, it ain’t,” Jack returned.
“Before we get carried away with moral considerations, we should figure out if Athosians and humans are genetically compatible at all,” Mohinder Suresh, a name-worthy geneticist on his own right, intervened.
Captain Price gave him a surprised look. “Why shouldn’t we? The Athosians are human, aren’t they?”
“They look human enough,” the younger geneticist corrected, “but we know nothing about their genetic make-up yet. There are different possibilities, most of which don’t look very promising. If we’re the same genus but not the same species, we can have children with the Athosians, but these would be all infertile - like mules, coming from horses and donkeys. A useful subspecies, but genetically seen a failure. A dead end in the evolutionary process.”
“I don’t think that would be what the Athosians wanted,” Ianto commented softly. “What if we’re the same species, though?”
“There still could be significant differences in our genetic sequencing,” Mohinder answered. “Differences big enough to result in physically deformed or mentally disabled progeny. Or both. Which couldn’t be the Athosians’ intent, either.”
“Is there any way to know these things for sure?” Mikka Toivannen, a straw-blond Finnish engineer with a shockingly red beard (both completely natural) asked.
“Mappin’ the Athosian genome would be the first step,” Carson Beckett replied with a heavy sigh. “But that would take bloody months; perhaps even years, if they’re different enough.”
“We don’t have months, let alone years!” Professor Taylor protested. “We need to search that city, now, while Atlantis is still intact. There could be a ZedPM among those ruins, or lots of drones for the chair, or…”
“It doesn’t matter what might be there,” Liz Shaw said sharply. “We won’t do anything against the Athosians’ wishes. This is still their planet; and their right to choose the risks they’re willing to take.”
“It ain’t your decision!” Professor Taylor snapped. “As the ranking scientist here…”
“…you can shut up before I, as the ranking military officer here, shoot you on the spot,” Jack retorted, and Professor Taylor had the self-protective instinct to back off. Jack then turned to Liz Shaw. “Look, what about simply telling the Athosians the truth? They’re a reasonable people. I’m sure they wouldn’t do anything that might endanger their children.”
“Let’s hope so,” Liz Shaw sighed. “I’ll speak with the elders again. If at least one of you gene carriers is willing to… erm… donate, at least in theory, we might get our chance with the city, after all.”
“I must admit that I’m still not entirely comfortable with the idea - not even in theory,” Captain Price said.
“Neither am I,” Liz Shaw admitted. “But we need to have something we can offer the Athosians. I only hope it will be enough.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the end, it proved to be easier than they’d have expected. As Jack had pointed out, the Athosians were a reasonable people - and not entirely ignorant about the problems of interracial breeding.
“We have tried to find suitable spouses on other worlds,” a young blonde woman by the name of Anika, who was their village healer or something like that, explained with Corrigan’s help. “Sometimes it turned out good and gave the tribe healthy, gifted children. At other times there were either no children at all, or they were born misshapen or feeble-minded. Your healers could find out in advance what to expect?”
“Some of them can,” Liz Shaw answered. “That bearded older man spent his whole life with such research, and his son now follows the same path. They say they can do this, but it would take time. And they’d have to do some tests.”
“What kind of tests?” Charin asked warily. Clearly, the word had a bad sound to her.
“They’d take some of your blood, examine it and compare it with ours,” Liz Shaw explained. “Then they’ll make a detailed list about the similarities and the differences, and calculate the possible risks of cross-breeding between our people.”
The elders looked at Anika, who shrugged. “Sounds harmless enough.”
“It is harmless,” Liz Shaw assured. “Before coming here, we used to have regular blood tests, to make sure we won’t take any illnesses here, against which you might not have natural immunity. I assume further tests would be necessary to find out what bacteria or viruses live here we have no immunity against.”
“We need to make sure we wannae harm each other in any way,” Beckett added. He’d been invited along to this meeting by Dr. Shaw, both as the chief medical officer of the expedition and the one with perhaps the strongest ATA gene. “I wannae lie to you, love; this will be a lot of work before we can figure out whether it’s safe for us to cross-breed or not.”
“We understand that,” Teyla said after a brief consultation with the other elders. “We do not want to endanger our future children in the womb, either. But if you are willing, should it prove safe, then we are willing to take the risk of allowing you to search the old city. Even settle there, if it suits your needs.”
“For that, we are grateful,” Dr. Shaw said. “Once we can unpack our medical equipment, we shall start with the blood tests and the research. Perhaps we’ll even find something in the old city that helps us with it. The Ancients had a medical technology that far surpasses ours.”
“But you cannot move to the old city right away,” Halling warned. “There may be traps, set by the Ancestors to keep invaders out… or by the Wraith to capture those who dare to venture into the city.”
“We won’t just blunder in,” Liz Shaw replied. “We shall send a small survey team with one of the ships we brought from… from the planet we had to leave,” they still hadn’t told the Athosians that they’d come from Atlantis. It was by no means sure the locals would even know about the city-ship, and if they did, it would have been foolhardy to reveal its location before they had control over the systems. “A team of engineers and technicians and people who can use Ancient technology, to look for traps and disable them before the rest of us would move in.”
“I would like to go with them,” Teyla declared. It wasn’t a request, and they all knew it, even if it was phrased like one. She had every right to watch them.
“So would I,” Halling added. “Should there be any messages from the Ancestors, I must see it and add it to the tradition.”
Realizing that Halling was probably the closest thing the Athosians had to a priest, Dr. Shaw agreed. And thus it was decided that they will send the survey team to the ruined city first thing in the morning.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The little gateship was about the coolest thing Jack had ever flown in his entire life - and he had flown his fair share of cool vessels before being stranded on 19th century Earth. Including his little Chulan spaceship and the TARDIS. All right, he’d never actually flown the TARDIS, although he had sometimes helped the doctor piloting her… with mixed results. The TARDIS was a capricious lady with a will of her own - or malfunctioning, depending on one’s point of view. Even the Doctor had a hard time to make her cooperate.
But this little darling… Jack walked around the gateship and patted its outer hull lovingly. It was small and compact, almost like a car, and as soon as he touched it, it came to life with flickering lights and a low hum, as if it wanted to greet him.
He knew it was the gene - the ship reacted the same way to Ianto, after all - and yet he couldn’t stop grinning in delight. Automobile freaks would probably react similarly if offered a beautiful, fully functional old-timer for free.
Ianto was watching him with tolerant amusement. “Should I feel jealous?” he asked.
Jack laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Ianto, look at this baby! Ain’t she just perfect? Designed to go through the Gate, reacting to our thoughts?”
“Oh, it’s a she now, isn’t it?” Ianto shook his head, smiling. “Well, as long as it isn’t another guy, just a spaceship, I reckon I’m safe enough. But Jack, I’m coming with you.”
“Ianto…” Jack began, but Ianto cut off his protest.
“It’s not up to debate, Jack. I’m coming for Doctor Shaw and to record things we may find. The others will be busy checking out the city or establishing a defence perimeter. Someone ought to make detailed records. And I’m the best person to do it; you know that.”
That was very true, of course, so Jack grudgingly backed off. The survey team had gathered in the meantime. It was a fairly colourful mix, consisting of two engineers (doctors Simpson and Kavanagh), one systems technician (Sergeant Jenny Hagiwara), three Marines (Stackhouse, Markham and Yamato), Doctor Beckett, Doctor Corrigan and the two Athosian elders.
Some of the expedition members, like Beckett and Markham, had the gene, while the others had not. It was a conscious choice; they needed people who could activate Ancient technology, but they had to take into consideration that some Wraith traps, would specifically react to Ancient physiology and such to the gene as well.
“Everybody ready to leave?” Jack asked brightly. “Well, let’s board our ship, shall we?”
They were a little crowded in the passenger section, especially with the large toolkits of the two engineers underfoot, but it was bearable. Jack ordered Markham to take the co-pilot’s seat next to him - the boy had the gene, after all, and needed to learn how to fly the ship. Even if he was still green behind the ears.
“So, Jamie, do you remember which direction the valley lies from the Athosian village?” he asked, trying to imagine their surroundings.
Before Markham could have answered, a three-dimensional holomap popped up in the air, right in front of their eyes. Both their camp and the Athosian village were clearly recognizable from the bird’s-eye perspective. So was the small circle of the Stargate and, in a certain distance, the valley with the ruined city.
“Wow!” Markham breathed in eye, his eyes wide and round like those of a little boy in a toy shop. “That’s way cool…”
Jack had to admit that the boy was right. He tried not to drool himself, but it was hard to hold back.
“Well,” he said, “why don’t we take a closer look, now that there can’t be any questions about the direction?”
As if by magic, the little ship lifted off the ground, levitated just above the trees for a moment, and then turned in a gentle curve into the direction where, still hidden from the human eye, the valley with the Ancient city lay.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The distance was not a really big one, at least not by shuttle; Jack still found it strange that the Ancients would build their city so far from the Stargate. That would make it harder to flee to other planets in case of an attack.
“Correct, sir; but it would also gave them time to prepare for an attack, assuming they had some sort of Gate alarm installed,” Stackhouse, who’d come forth to the cockpit, so that he could watch the landscape through the front window, pointed out.
“Good tactical thinking, Sergeant.” Jack gave the young Staff Sergeant an appreciating look.
Stackhouse shrugged. “I used to have my own squad in Iraq, sir, and also led a few off-world missions at the SGC on my own whenever Gene was down with some bug. I’m used to this.”
Gene, that was Master Sergeant Michael Eugene Bates, who - Jack knew already - was on first-name basis with exactly two people in the expedition: Stackhouse himself, and his second-in-command, McKinney. Everyone else quaked in their boots before him… well, except the two UNIT captains. But even those treated him with respect.
“We’ll need people with command experience once we’ve gotten settled,” Jack said. “Do you feel up to lead one of the survey teams on a permanent basis? Since you’re the only people with off-world experience, we can’t afford the luxury to leave the Marine squad intact. I think we should split it between you and Sergeant Bates and fill in the numbers with newbies.”
“That could work,” Stackhouse agreed. “If you trust me with this, sir, I’m game. I’d like to have Jamie with me, though,” he nodded towards Markham. “I promised his Mom to keep an eye on him.”
“Hey!” Markham protested indignantly. “I don’t need a babysitter!”
“You’re not getting one,” Stackhouse countered. “You’re getting me, because I promised - and because it makes me sleep better. So suck up and shut up, you don’t have a vote in this.”
Jack smiled as he listened to their good-natured banter. Markham was suffering from the baby face syndrome; not only was he the youngest Marine in the entire squad, he’d also practically grown up with Stackhouse, who - although only some two years older - was the best (or worst, depending on your point of view) big brother to him: always practical, always concerned about his friend’s safety, and ready to intervene when he saw it necessary.
Jack had seen Markham during firearm training, during unarmed combat training and working with alien technology and knew that Jamie was more than capable of protecting himself. But again, so were the members of Jack’s team, and that fact didn’t make Jack worry about them any less. Which only proved that Stackhouse indeed had what it took to be a good leader. A bit over-concerned perhaps, but that came from his youth. He’d grow into the task well enough.
“All right,” he said. “You can have him. But try not to smother him completely. You’re worse than a mother hen.”
Stackhouse grinned. “I can’t help it, sir. I was the youngest in the family, with both my Dad and my brother in the Corps. I need someone of my own to smother. By the way,” he added, peering through the windshield with interest, “I’d say we’ve arrived.”
As if given a sign, all others jumped to their feet and tried to storm the cockpit, so that they could finally see something, and for a moment Jack got ridiculously nervous about the ship tipping forward and crashing, although, rationally, he knew how unlikely that would be. It still could have caused problems in the narrow cockpit, had Private Yamato not planted himself firmly in the open doorway that led to the passenger compartment.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “but the pilots need room to fly this vessel.”
The others backed off at once, because while Yamato might look slim and short, it was a know fact that he’d brought down Teal’c in unarmed combat, and that repeatedly. So it was better to obey if he gave an order. Other than his deadly skills with or without an actual weapon, he was a friendly and sociable guy, and people did their best to keep him that way.
Teyla and Halling watched the little scene with interest. They didn’t need to be told to realize that this slender young man was most likely an excellent warrior. Even though he didn’t have the gift to operate the technology of the Ancestors, he’d be an excellent addition to any clan that needed a new spouse.
Jack landed the gateship in what he thought would be safe distance from the city and sent out the Marines and Sergeant Hagiwara to secure the entranceway to the valley. Doctor Kavanagh went with them, carrying an Ancient sensor that had been calibrated to detect any surveillance devices left by the Wraith or any booby traps left by the Ancients themselves. Or so they hoped. Markham, the only one with the gene among them, took the rear and followed them from considerable distance, lest he would set off something by accident.
The others climbed atop the gateship, from where they could get a sneak peek at that which lay before them. Even from this far, it was a spectacular sight.
The city went on all along the valley, as far as they could tell; a roofless maze of crumbled walls and shattered pillars, all made of local stone, once perhaps white but now grey and withered with age. There were interconnected rooms, large, empty halls, fountains and pools that had long dried out, and open courts that once might have been filled with well-ordered gardens but were now overgrown with vegetation. It was dead and empty and abandoned, but - strangely enough - it didn’t look in any way damaged, save from the wear of time and weather.
“There was no battle,” Jack realized with a jolt. “There are no bomb crates or any sign of violent destruction. Could it be that the Wraith never found this place?”
“If they haven’t, why didn’t the Ancients hide out in here?” Corrigan argued. “Why would they go to the caves?”
“It wasn’t the Ancients who hid in the caves,” Jack reminded him. “Those were the forefathers of the Athosians.”
“Still, the Wraith mustae known about the existence of the city,” Beckett said. “How come they havnae destroyed it?”
“Perhaps they had no reason for it,” Ianto replied thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s been abandoned by the Ancients well before the end of the war. Then it would have served the Wraith’s purposes much better as a trap.”
The Athosians asked Corrigan for translation; then Halling nodded.
“The old tales tell us that the Ancients abandoned this city long before the Great War was lost,” he said. “When the Wraith came, our people tried to flee to the city, but whenever someone ventured there, it led to a new attack. Finally, we have given up on the city. No-one has come here for uncounted generations… not that we would know of it, that is.”
“Let’s hope Doctor Kavanagh can find the Wraith surveillance devices,” Jack commented grimly. The last thing he wanted was to lure those monsters to Athos again; and that at a time when his own people were utterly vulnerable, still living in tents.
Dr. Simpson patted his arm encouragingly. “Think positively,” he said. “Kavanagh can be a jerk sometimes, but he’s damn good at what he does.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As it turned out, she’d been right. Less than an hour alter the survey team returned, Kavanagh bringing half a dozen small devices with him.
“I found these strategically placed in a semi-circle of a diameter of about a hundred metres right at the entrance of the valley,” he explained. “They appear to be comm devices of some sort, capable of sending a one-way signal through hyperspace. I’ve short-circuited them with the help of a portable EM-emitter; they ought to be harmless now.”
“Ought to be?” Jack repeated with a frown. Kavanagh shrugged.
“Well, they’re not emitting any energy signature right now. But this is a technology I’ve never seen before, so I can’t give you absolute guarantees.”
“Can they recharge themselves?” Jack asked.
“I’ve honestly no idea,” Kavanagh admitted. “The best solution would be to destroy them, of course, but I’m not sure P90s could do the trick.”
“Then we’ll need something with a bit more juice,” Jack looked at Ianto. “Have you brought the Jamolean lance?”
“Of course,” Ianto replied matter-of-factly, as if Jack had asked for a handkerchief, and presented the required weapon.
Jack took it from him, thrust the weapon's barrel against one of the devices, and then pulled the trigger. The exothermic reaction produced by the lance melted the Wraith device into a puddle of useless plastic and metal.
“Well,” Jack eyed the molten remains with satisfaction, “we can thereby officially reassure that it works on inorganic material just as well,” he pushed the lance into Ianto’s hand to finish off the other devices, then turned back to Kavanagh. “Have you found anything else that seemed suspicious, Doc?”
The pony-tailed scientist shook his head. “Nothing so far. I’d suggest that gene carriers hold back from touching any unknown piece of equipment before Simpson or I have tested them, though.”
“All right,” Jack looked at Ianto, Markham and Beckett. “You heard the man: no feeling up any cool toys before they’re declared safe.”
“You havnae got to warn me off, Captain,” Beckett pulled a face. “I wouldnae even get close to Ancient tech if the scientists didnae drag me to help them all the time.”
“That’s because we need your gene in order to do our jobs,” Simpson returned. "You’re such a wet blanket when it comes to technology, Carson, it’s not even funny!”
“Well, I’m a bloody doctor, not some stage magician!” Beckett snapped.
“Play nice, children,” Jack intervened before they could have gotten into a real fight. “We’ve got an Ancient city to explore - let’s do it!”
The others were eager to do just that. Stackhouse took point, and with him went Doctor Kavanagh, scanning the area relentlessly, to spot any other possible surprises left by the Wraith. Julia Simpson was only a step or so behind them, busy with her own scanner.
“Captain,” she said to Jack after they’d reached the entrance of the valley, “I’m picking up energy signatures ahead of us.”
“What kind of energy signatures?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure,” Simpson consulted her instruments with a frown. “They’re scattered and erratic. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“Let me see it,” Kavanagh turned around, but Simpson snapped at him in annoyance.
“Do your own job, mister! I’m capable of doing mine, without your constant interference, thank you very much!”
Kavanagh opened his mouth to answer something but changed his mind in a sudden bout of self-preservation and stomped away, muttering darkly under his breath. Jack suppressed a grin. The relationship between Simpson and Kavanagh - calling it a love affair would have been exaggerated - had been the worst kept secret of the SGC already. Considering their spectacular - and very vocal - public fights whenever they happened to disagree about any scientific matter (which happened at least once a day), the wildest speculations about their private life were running circles among the rest of the expedition. Jack for his part was fairly sure they had a somewhat bland sex life. After all, they usually worked until they collapsed over their laptops, and worked out any possible differences through their geek spats. There was no way they’d have the strength for sexual acrobatics afterwards.
“So, the energy signature,” Jack pressed.
“Well, it’s definitely Ancient, not that that would be surprising,” Simpson replied, all professional again. “The problem is, I can’t localize its exact source. It comes from somewhere within the city, but that’s the closest thing I can tell you, I’m sorry.”
She seemed to see this as a personal failure. Her face reddened with anger so much that her freckles had become invisible. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, not even remotely pretty, but very sharp and practical-minded, and Jack had learned during SCG training to appreciate her insights and endurance.
“Don’t take it personally,” he said. “Such things happen. Let’s simply follow the general direction of the readings and see what we’ll find.”
Simpson nodded curtly and stomped after Kavanagh. Sergeant Hagiwara and Yamato caught up with them, wielding their own scanners. They had to check every yard of walkway before them, to spot any possible Wraith devices that might react to Ancient DNA, before the gene carriers could enter.
They’d found nothing so far, and when they’d checked out a square tower that happened to have a balcony and declared it safe, both structurally and technology-wise, Jack decided to climb up to the balcony and take a look at the ruins from there.
“Perhaps we can make a preliminary map, using the holographic binoculars and your records,” he said to Ianto, while the two scientists and Sergeant Hagiwara were trying to figure out what the console in the single room at the ground level might have been for, and the soldiers looked for anything that could make the place blow up.
Ianto nodded noncommittally and followed him across the open court that led to the entrance of the tower. He didn’t seem the least surprised that Jack had apparently managed to smuggle through the controls some more gadgets, such ones that hadn’t even been on his list. Like the binoculars Jack still had from his years as a Time Agent.
But perhaps he knew it already. Ianto had an uncanny ability to know anything related to Jack, to the Torchwood Three team, to the Hub or to Torchwood in general. That was what made him so valuable as an archivist.
And the fact that he didn’t tend to babble, of course.
He wasn’t making any comments now, either, as the two of them climbed the battered stone steps that wound upwards around a central column through the square tower. Jack calculated the height in his head and came to the conclusion that the tower had to be at least five storeys high.
“More like six, considering the measures of contemporary architecture,” Ianto said. “Strange that there aren’t any other rooms between the ground level and the balcony. I wonder what this place was used for. A watchtower perhaps? Or a relay station? Or just a border marker?”
“Let’s hope the geeks will be able to figure it out,” Jack replied absently. “Look, I’ve found the balcony door. Perhaps we’ll see something interesting from here.”
“Yeah; more ruins, most likely,” Ianto muttered. He wasn’t as fond of great heights as Jack, although he wasn’t exactly afraid of them, either. He just didn’t see the attraction in climbing up laboriously a thousand steps, just to look down at things he wouldn’t see well anyway, because of the distance.
Still as he stepped out onto the balcony next to Jack, even he had to admit that the sight was spectacular indeed. A ruined city of this size, with its narrow streets and overhanging structures, should have felt oppressive - only that it didn’t. Perhaps it was the fact that it had been ruined, not destroyed. Perhaps it was the elegant design of the crumbled structures. Perhaps the alabaster-like quality of the withered stone that seemed almost translucent in places - Jack couldn’t really tell. He only knew that the city, even in its ruins, was beautiful.
From their vantage point, they could see a large, mostly intact building halfway the central street that seemed to run diagonally across the whole city, some of its soaring spires still stretching towards the sky. Its main entrance looked at the street; an entranceway with triple archways, its heavy, ornate doors still in place. When Jack adjusted the binoculars and gave them Ianto, the young man gaped in awe.
“Most amazing!” he murmured. “Definitely the same architecture as Atlantis herself, just older, much older. I wonder what purpose it might have served. Perhaps you should send someone forward to take a closer look.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar, hand-held device… or, to be more accurate, one half of it. “Why don’t we take a look ourselves?”
“Jack, you can’t be serious!” Ianto protested. “Have you forgotten how dangerous this thing is?”
“Relax; it’s just the half that shows us the past,” Jack replied. Ianto raised an eyebrow.
“And that makes it right? I don’t think so. How on Earth did you manage to lift it from the storage box in Gateship Three?”
“I didn’t” Jack replied simply. “The thing lying there is a fake. I’ve hidden the real item among my clothes.”
“Fantastic!” Ianto’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You just couldn’t bear other people taking your toy away, could you? I still can’t imagine how you did it, though. I saw with my own eyes how you handed this - and it was the true item, I know that, I checked it myself - to Doctor Shaw.”
“Sleigh-of-hand,” Jack shrugged. “I used to be a con man, remember?”
“Lord help me!” Ianto rolled his eyes. “I’ve married a criminal!”
“At least your life’s never gonna be boring with me,” Jack grinned unrepentantly.
Ianto’s eyebrow climbed to the roots of his hair. “You do know that’s an old Chinese curse, don’t you? To wish someone they may live in interesting times?”
“Am I truly a curse to you?” Jack asked jokingly but was clearly a little hurt.
“You aren’t and you know that,” Ianto replied. “It’s just… you should find a way to get your impulsive nature under better control. To think of the possible consequences before you act. The rest of us, we ain’t indestructible; and perhaps you aren’t, either. You just haven’t met a true challenge yet.”
“Hey!” Jack took Ianto’s face in his hands and looked into the young man’s worried eyes. “I’m not gonna walk into gunfire headfirst. I’m just taking a trip into the past of this place.”
“And who says that couldn’t be every bit as dangerous as gunfire?” Ianto asked seriously. But he could see on Jack’s stubborn face that Jack was going to do this, with or without his consent. “All right,” he said with a weary sigh. “But I’m coming with you.”
“That’s out of question,” Jack replied promptly. Ianto raised a sardonic eyebrow.
“I believe you don’t get the point, Jack,” he said in an extremely dry tone. “What’s out of question is you, blundering into something potentially lethal without me. Either you take me with you, or I’ll tell Doctor Shaw how you’ve tricked her. It’s that simple.”
“That,” Jack said accusingly, “is blackmail.”
“Yes,” Ianto replied with a bland smile. “Is it working?”
“Course it is,” Jack muttered. “You know me too well; know which buttons to push to make me do what you want.”
Which wasn’t exactly true, but in the light of his victory, Ianto wasn’t about to argue.
“It’s only in your best interest,” he said with mock haughtiness. “You’d be lost without me, sir.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Jack smiled at him, a small, intimate smile few other people have ever seen. “Come on, then, Mr. Jones. Let’s visit the past.”
He laid Ianto’s hand upon the ghost machine and covered it with his own, so that they both touched the glossy black surface. Then he pushed the big, round button in the front. Their surroundings became blurred at once, as if they were standing in thick fog. Then it cleared up, just a little, and they were looking down at the Ancient city, as it had been ten thousand or more years ago. An elegant white city, full of spires and turrets and towers, all built of flawless, translucent stone.
If it was beautiful in ruins, it had been a true marvel to behold in its heyday indeed.
Chapter 11 - The Ghosts of Ten Thousand Years Past