02 - Reliquary by Martha Wells - (ebook by Undead) Page A

many people had been down here when the surface bombing
started, if the shielding had protected them or just delayed the inevitable.
From the peculiar taint in the air, he figured it was the latter. Of course,
considering what they could have been doing to the people in those locked cells,
that might have been no loss.
    And your imagination is out of control, John told himself grimly, trying
to shake off his mood. He was beginning to think it was time to call it a night.
According to his watch, it should be getting dark up on the surface. The MALP’s
telemetry data had told them that it was summer in this hemisphere and that the
night should only last about seven hours. Besides, his stomach was starting to
grumble, and McKay, who had hypoglycemia, had bummed the last power bar a half-hour ago.
    McKay put the PDA away in his pack and sat back with a sigh, looking at the
others below. “Kavanagh might just get a gold star for working and playing well
with others today after all.”
    John eyed Kavanagh. Once they had gotten down here, the man had settled down
and concentrated on the task. At the moment he was examining something deep
inside the remains of a dead work station, addressing an occasional remark to
Teyla, who was holding the light for him. They seemed to be getting on well
enough, probably because Teyla didn’t fall into any of the normal categories of
military, civilian scientist, or technical support personnel that Kavanagh was
used to dealing with. He treated her like a respected professional in another
field. “He gives Elizabeth enough trouble.”
    “Yes, that, of course, but he’s usually very cautious when it comes to
risking lives,” Rodney said. “His own, true, but also everyone else’s.
Especially stupid unnecessary risks, like climbing down that ladder without a
safety rope. And triggering that power surge that opened the shaft. He had no
idea what that was. Never mind the possibility of electrocution, he didn’t know
what it was going to do. It could have been an intruder destruction sequence.
Elizabeth could be sending somebody with a bag to collect what was left of us
right now.”
    John pretended to consider it. “I don’t think they’d use a bag. I think
they’d be more respectful than that.”
    Rodney gave him a withering look. John relented and added seriously, “Maybe
he’s overcompensating. From what Grodin said, Elizabeth did practically hand him
his ass.” John and Rodney hadn’t been there to see it. That had been during the
infamous bug-neck incident, when their puddlejumper had been stuck halfway
through a Stargate and they had only had the thirty-eight minute duration of the
active wormhole to figure out a solution. Kavanagh had thought the jumper would
explode, and the force would be transferred through the wormhole and take out the ’gate room. Somehow, in all the tension of the
moment, this had led to a public dressing down from Weir.
    Whatever Kavanagh had been on about, John didn’t think Elizabeth should have
lowered the boom in public. John had had more than his share of public dressing
downs, and it wasn’t a command style he preferred. It was only going to cause
more problems, but when it had happened Elizabeth must have been feeling the
time pressure intensely. Apparently she had been stiff with Hailing about
something too, and he was easy-going to a fault.
    But whatever had happened, John wasn’t sure he felt comfortable pointing
fingers about it. He wasn’t exactly the sterling example of good
chain-of-command relationships at the best of times, and he had made more than
his share of mistakes. Big mistakes. “You know Kavanagh’s still chafing. He’s
just going to have to get over it.”
    Rodney was frowning thoughtfully. “Yes. But the man did a stint in the SGC, I
can’t believe he never had his ass handed to him before. That place is
practically the ass-handing capital of the world.”
    “I got that impression.” Ford and