They had been arguing for hours. What began as a simple disagreement had escalated into a full-out battle of wills: John and Ronon on one side, Elizabeth and Carson on the other, with Rodney waffling between. Radek had long since retired to the corner, but Teyla remained in the centre of the room, resolutely silent, her face impassive.
Elizabeth made a particularly blistering argument and in the shocked silence that followed, Teyla finally played her hand.
“I do not believe either answer to be incorrect.”
“What?” John demanded, recovering first. “Teyla, we can’t both be – ”
“It is clear, Colonel,” she cut him off ruthlessly, but without raising her voice, “that both solutions will result in loss of life. Neither is less destructive than the other. What differs is only that which is destroyed.”
“Teyla has a valid point.” Radek spoke up nervously, reluctant to stick his head back in the lions’ den. “What interests me is that this is not the first ethical dilemma we have faced. It is merely the first one we have disagreed upon.”
Elizabeth looked speculatively at John.
“The man has a point,” John said neutrally.
“Furthermore, and I apologize, but it took me some time to uncover, this has been the first question to be timed.”
Rodney dashed over to Radek’s monitor to see for himself. Carson cracked his neck, earning a black look from Ronon, while John looked sheepishly at Teyla. Elizabeth remained stationary, her face a study in thought.
“I think that there is more going on here than we realized,” Elizabeth said, her voice very tightly controlled, as though she hadn’t finished thinking about what she was going to say.
“What do you mean?” asked Rodney.
“We trip a failsafe close to an important system, and all of a sudden, the whole database is encrypted.” Elizabeth’s voice became more excited. “But it’s not just encrypted. Rodney could break that in his sleep. It’s more than a code.”
“It’s a test,” Ronon said, his voice rumbling on the edge of anger.
“A test?” Rodney exclaimed. “Why would there be a test?”
“Perhaps to ensure that only a person of intelligence could have access the star drive?” Teyla guessed.
“No, it’s more than that,” Carson said thoughtfully. “It’s combined intelligence. No one of us could have got this far alone. All of us have given answers. More than that, some answers needed two different people, with different backgrounds.”
“But why would there be a test?” Rodney insisted.
“You’re an Ancient,” John said reasonably. “The Wraith are coming. There’s a lot of them, and they are pretty smart. Do you want them running around the galaxy with an Ancient star drive?”
“No,” Rodney admitted.
“That’s why the questions are getting harder,” Elizabeth said. “And why the ethical questions are cropping up. They want to know if we’re…worthy.”
“I don’t like jumping through hoops,” Ronon said.
“I’m not sure you have much choice,” Rodney said condescendingly. “The city can’t support itself forever on secondary generators. If we don’t get primary power back online, we’re going to have to evacuate.”
It hung there for a moment. Elizabeth looked at John for a long time.
“Radek, get me city-wide.” Radek hit a few keys and nodded. “Attention everyone, this is Dr. Weir. The Ancient database has been overwritten by a series of coded riddles. They will soon be displayed on every monitor in the city.”
Rodney’s look of consternation would have been amusing under other circumstances, but Elizabeth waved him to silence.
“It is our belief that this is some kind of test,” Elizabeth continued, her voice echoing through the corridors. “So I am asking all of you to look at it. Work with people from outside your specialty. Create the best answers you can. This task was given to our city. I believe that, together, we can solve it. Weir out.”
Rodney tried to say several things at once and produced only strangled noises.
“I will make the riddles appear on every screen,” Radek said in a hushed tone. “I will also ensure that only those with top-level security clearance can actually input an answer.”
“Thank you, Radek.” Elizabeth said. She bit her lip. “And enter Ronon’s answer to that last question.
Ronon looked surprised and Carson looked about to protest, but then thought the better of it.
“It’s the best answer,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “And we don’t want to start this whole thing off with a city-wide debate.”
“It was an impossible question,” John said quietly. And peace was made.
“I suggest that we disperse ourselves throughout the city,” Teyla said. “We have both the experience and the necessary codes.”
“Good idea,” Elizabeth said, all business again. “I’ll be in my office. I want hourly reports from all department heads and notifications of each riddle, who solves it, and the answer as it happens.”
Amidst the nods and verbal acquiescence, the room emptied. Throughout the city, darkened monitors came to life and the hum of people and their work filled the halls once more.
------
It was sunny and crisp, with just the slightest hint of wind. The clouds were white and fluffy and floated lazily in the sky. It was a perfect day. These were not unheard of to John Sheppard. He’d lived through a few of them, and he hoped to see many more. But today was the start of football season, his senior football season, and that made it special.
The game wasn’t for hours, but John was on the field anyway. He just liked to look at it sometimes. He could focus and plan and dream and, for a while, life was as simple as football.
“I thought I might find you here,” a voice said behind him.
For a moment, he was annoyed. This was his place today. But then he recognized the voice.
“Alia Phillips,” he drawled, turning around. “What are you doing here?”
“Senior year.” She shrugged.
It was maddening. They’d barely spoken in years and she could still read him like a book.
“Yeah. Senior year.”
He walked over to where she was sitting on the bleachers and took the seat beside her. He had so many things to tell her and he didn’t know where to begin.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally.
“It happens, John,” she replied. “You got popular and I didn’t.”
“I could’ve taken you with me.”
“Yeah, I’d fit right in at your table.” There was sarcasm, but no bitterness in her voice. She was happy.
He said nothing in reply because she was right. She was always right. Whether it was telling frogs from toads down in the creek or pointing out constellations from the hayloft long after the sun went down. She’d been his friend forever and he’d spent most of high school ignoring her.
“Dad said it’s going to rain tonight.” Adam Phillips did nothing without first consulting the Farmers’ Almanac.
“It can’t rain,” John said without thinking.
“The world doesn’t revolve around football, John.”
He was a breath away from telling her that he wished it should before he remembered that she would see through him. She always did.
“I know,” he said instead. Then hopefully: “You’ll come tonight?”
“I never miss a game.” She was smiling at him now. The smile he remembered from back before he knew that boys and girls were different and couldn’t be ‘that kind’ of friends.
“You never miss anything.”
She laughed and, up on the hill, the school bell rang. It became louder and more insistent and then John woke up to the sound of the alarms of Atlantis going berserk.
“Control room, this is Sheppard. Report.”
“Flooding in the lower south east pier.” Chuck’s voice was beleaguered. “Dr. Weir wants you up here ASAP.”
“I’m on my way.”
Life was never as simple as football.
------
AN: You expect me to get through a whole fic without using the word “acquiesce”? Also, the background for John is lifted almost verbatim from the Shermer High AU.