The runner looked at me the way a seasoned physicist would if a schoolboy retold the theory of relativity in his own words. With an adjustment for his own notion of the Universe, nurtured on Japanese cartoons about tentacles.
"Kirik," he said after a few seconds of silence.
"I mean?"
"My name is Kirik," the runner said. And... so memory failed me a bit with his name. Well, it happens. Considering he was just the hero of one episode in a five-year series, I think it's forgivable to be wrong. After all, I even named all the letters of his name in the right order. So what if I added a couple...
Runner Kirik.
"Personally—never," I admitted. "But I know what the Wraith did to you, taking you from your home planet."
"They often do that."
"And you looked into one world that the Wraith then destroyed."
"Such things are commonplace," Alvar spoke up. "I think all runners learn that on their own skin."
"Yes, but do all runners save a miraculously surviving child from such planets?" I asked.
The man standing before me tensed. Noticeably so. It was clear he didn't like that some unknown jerk knew more about him than he should. In his place, I wouldn't like it either.
Kirik was silent, and I pondered if I had made a mistake in my assumption.
To be honest, setting out on this mission, I hoped the runner would turn out to be the future khal, Satedan Ronon Dex, in the guise of actor Jason Momoa. But the universe wasn't so kind to my wishes.
Instead of a Satedan, we met another runner. The second and last one shown over five seasons of the series about the adventures of foolish but brave Earthlings in the Pegasus galaxy. And if I could say I knew Dex inside out, since quite a lot of time was devoted to revealing his character, then this "runner-father"...
One fact extremely puzzled me. At the moment of his debut in the series, this runner had a device of an unknown race that allowed short-range teleportation. When I realized we had found not the "boy" we were looking for, I decided that at least a portable teleporter would come in handy. Such a piano could be brought in...
But neither on the runner's body, nor nearby, nor with him, was anything like that discovered. This made me doubt that events in this reality matched the ones I knew in details. Who knows, maybe because the expedition didn't arrive, it didn't affect some order of things? And the fact that Kirik didn't acquire such a device is not the biggest problem, right?
This needed to be figured out. If the story had already gone under the knife, and most likely it had, then we needed to hurry and grab at least what was still waiting its hour: Ancient ships, bases, outposts.
While we were away, Chaya was working on my leads in the Atlantis databases, but there was no progress yet. We found the "Aurora" and, if we had a ship, we'd reach it. But I know there are at least three more relatively combat-ready battleships of that type in the galaxy. Losing them would be a big stupidity. Not to mention other Ancient legacy objects.
"We're not going to harm you or your little girl," the master negotiator Teyla entered the dialogue. "I'm the leader of the Athosians. Perhaps you've heard of us."
"I've heard," Kirik replied. "You're gatherers, hunters, information traders, and you help on the fields of others. You don't have such technologies," he pointed to the ship and me. Though, I think he was more interested in my personal shield.
"Correct, these are technologies from other worlds," Alvar said. "Clothing, armor, and weapons—from my world."
"The ship, as well as the protective field that didn't let you break my jaw twice and damage my torso—is from the place I came from," I had to add my explanation too.
"And what place is that?" Kirik asked. "Where people live who can easily kill Wraith but don't do it?"
It starts again...
"My world was destroyed by the Wraith," Alvar spoke up. "All that's left of my people is me. The Wraith made me a runner, like you. And Misha," he nodded toward me, "helped get rid of that burden."
"So you work for them?" Kirik asked.
"He doesn't work for me," I corrected. "He, like Teyla, works with me. I hope you will too."
"And why would I?" the runner asked.
"How many places in the galaxy are there where you can hide and not fear that the Wraith will come, find you, capture you, and make you a runner again?" I asked.
"No such places in the whole galaxy."
"You're wrong," Teyla spoke up. "My people were recently attacked by the Wraith. Many died. But Mikhail and his... friend helped us find a new world the Wraith don't know about."
"But they didn't help your kin, did they?" Kirik asked Alvar. The Ermenian nodded affirmatively. "And what's the point then? Help in one case out of two?"
"My world and my fellow countrymen were exterminated by the Wraith long before I met Misha," Alvar explained. "Ermen being destroyed is not his fault."
"And whose is it?" Kirik became interested.
"I think the Genii had a hand in it," Jensen said.
"If all this," Kirik pointed to our clothes, "is from your world, I doubt a bunch of farmers could mess with you that badly."
"The Genii are not what they seem to guests of their world," Teyla explained. "They are much more advanced and..."
"Enough," the runner interrupted. "I'm not interested in the Genii. I have responsibility."
"To the saved girl," I understood.
"Her name is Seliza," Kirik clarified, looking at me. "And yes, you're right. I became the cause of the death of all those she knew. I took her with me because at least that way she had a chance to survive."
"And what chances does a little girl have to survive in a galaxy full of Wraith when her only friend and protector is a runner the Wraith want to kill?" I asked. "Your transmitter is disabled. It has fused with the spinal cord, partially replaced one of the vertebrae with its tissue. In field conditions, it definitely can't be removed..."
"So you lied to me about ridding me of that thing?" the sword in Kirik's hands jerked toward my throat.
"The transmitter is a device," I explained. "Just like the Wraith's weapons are also biological in nature. But different, differing from their other technologies just as you differ from me..."
"Don't talk to me like a child," Kirik sharply interrupted me. "My world was developed enough to understand what you're talking about without extra explanations."
"In that case, I'll simplify my story to facts," I exhaled. "With this device," extracting the Ancient scanner from my thigh pocket, I demonstrated it to the former runner, "I detected where your transmitter is located. I figured out its power element and subspace antenna. Removing this thing would make you disabled. But the Wraith can't track you anymore."
"How do you know?" Kirik asked.
"Alfhar," I addressed my comrade. And a second later, he tossed me a portable computer built into a wrist cuff. Very similar to Lantean technologies, but having nothing to do with them.
I handed the device to our new acquaintance.
"Recognize the gadget?"
"Wraith tracking system," Kirik said. "Every Wraith hunter has one. By it, they track runners' locations on the planet. Judging by the fact that I'm not on the map, you really disabled the transmitter."
Wraith tracking system.
It took Kirik just one glance to figure it out. He finally lowered his weapon and put the "cuff," as we called it, on the nearest chair in the cockpit.
"Now to the main thing," he announced. "Judging by how you behave, you're either well hidden or not afraid of the Wraith. And they're swarming all around here."
"This ship has supplies of weapons, food, and medications for a small war," I said. "And yes, you're right. The Wraith left. An hour ago—right after we disabled your beacon, hovering over a cliff above a mountain river."
"Why?" the runner asked.
"We wanted them to think you were dead," Teyla explained. "Right after that, we headed to the mountains where we detected you when we first arrived on the planet."
"And all this time you watched but didn't intervene?" Kirik winced. Without extra words, he walked past me, politely bypassed Teyla, but froze when Alfhar stood in his path.
For a second, the men drilled each other with their gazes. Kirik intended to leave, Jensen wanted him to stay a bit longer.
"We haven't finished talking, runner," the Ermenian explained.
"It's easy to reason about something when a scared little girl isn't waiting for you in the cave for several hours," our new acquaintance gritted through his teeth. "Step aside, big guy."
"Or what?" Jensen measured him with a gaze. By the way, he was half a head taller than Kirik. And, I think, five to ten kilos heavier. But in terms of combat training, particularly hand-to-hand in confined space, I think we'd soon find out who was worth what.
Teyla threw me a warning glance.
Well, or not soon.
"Alvar, let him pass," I ordered. "Kirik—big white button to the right of the aft bulkhead."
The runners sized each other up with their gazes once more, after which the new acquaintance unceremoniously headed to the jumper's ramp. Grabbing his outer clothing and Wraith pistol along the way, he hit the ramp unlock key.
With the familiar sound to us, the drives worked, and the rear wall of the ship turned into a gentle ramp down which the runner ran out. Nodding to his comrades, I pointed them to the exit.
As expected, seeing the girl sleeping on a pile of their things, the runner gave us an angry look.
The little one (about ten years old) girl with a round face and slightly bulging eyes lay on top of a couple of large bags. When we found her in the cave after Alfhar fried his fellow runner's transmitter, the girl didn't particularly want to talk. She huddled against the cave walls, trying to threaten with a scary-looking doll or a pocket knife imitation.
But the well-known diplomat of our group, Teyla, managed to find a common language with the girl. And while we moved with the unconscious runner (well, need to tell Chaya to adjust the electro-discharger's settings after all) to the clearing, the "girls" managed to become friends. As much as possible under the circumstances.
Seliza.
"You left a child alone under the open sky?" he asked in fury. "She's only in light clothing! She could get sick!"
"And also die from three or four diseases we detected in her by scanning," I parried. "And yes, no thanks needed. She was given medicine and now she's sleeping. Sleeping and guarding your belongings, as she told us you'd definitely say to leave when you wake up. Both blankets, new clothes, a small supply of medicines and food that we put in the bags just in case, you can keep. Consider it compensation for us barbarians saving your life, taking the girl out of the damp cave, not letting pneumonia develop in her, and so on down the list. And you can consider yourself father of the year. Because shoving a girl into a dark damp cave full of microorganisms and bacteria for several days took real effort not to use your head. Spoiler—she succeeded, Kirik. But yes, you're right. The villains here are solely us."
But from the former runner's face, it was clear he had realized his wrongdoing.
"Why not leave her in your ship or at least keep the hatch open?" Kirik still looked at us suspiciously.
"First learn not to rave in delirium," Alvar grumbled, waving his hand and heading to the cockpit. "Useless, Misha. Let them go their way."
"Not only Seliza was sick," Teyla said, approaching Kirik. "The scanner showed you have a fever and not everything is well with your health."
"After the last attempt to cut out the transmitter, I felt unwell," the runner admitted. "Thought it was a common cold."
"Well, if sepsis is called that here, then yes," I agreed. "Whoever that quack was you turned to, don't do it again. Of course, if you don't want to die before the girl learns to at least braid her own pigtails. And yes, almost forgot. With the medicines is an instruction on what, in what doses, and how long to inject you and her to recover. I don't recommend breaking the treatment regimen—otherwise the diseases will return."
We spoke, albeit expressively, but in low voices. It was somehow awkward to argue near the girl. Brave beyond her years, by the way. If not for Kirik's loud delirium during and after the operation, and the medicinal course including field drainage of a couple of boils on his back, we wouldn't have even thought of isolating her from the girl.
Yes, it looks so-so. There are wild animals in the forest and all that. But even the Wraith would need time to break through the energy shield stretched over the entire clearing. No, not cloaking—a normal shield against any kind of attacks, both kinetic and energy.
Of course, I admit, the decision isn't the best, but until his condition was stabilized, someone from us was constantly with the girl. It's not sweet for her either. A runner's life is no sugar. And for children who have barely tasted life with a full spoon—even more so.
So, to not scare the girl with her protector thrashing in delirium, screaming profanities and sobbing, lamenting how many people died because of his blunder, it was decided to do as we did. In this situation, the last thing I wanted was to scare the child with something like that. And keeping her, say, in the "jumper" in another compartment is even greater stupidity: we'd have to close the bulkheads for soundproofing and keep the ship idling. One careless move by the accidentally awakened girl and the ship could throw some surprise.
In short, albeit clumsily, but I bet that comfort, health, and the girl's opinion would be priority for our guest. We'll see if the investments pay off.
***
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