Stargate Atlantis: Latitude

Chapter 23 - The M'djarza

Rodney woke to darkness and motion once again and the sickening knowledge of the loss of his friend. He had lost track of the days since the whole camp full of prisoners had been loaded into several vehicles, chained to the floor by their ankles and the doors shut. Periodically the trucks stopped and the prisoners were allowed to get out to relieve themselves by the side of the road and were given food and water. Sometimes when they stopped it was dark, sometimes it was light.

They were heading south, that much was obvious. They were also gaining height and the terrain was changing; there was much more vegetation and often the churning of the truck's engine was nearly equalled by the roar of heavy rain pounding the metal roof.

Some prisoners speculated that they were heading for the capital, Leturu. Others thought perhaps they were going to be made to work on some engineering project.

"Roads through the M'djarza have always been bad. They'll have us digging cuttings and building bridges and such," said one man.

Rodney thought it highly unlikely that the Wraith would be interested in improving the planet's transport links, but didn't say so.

"What's the M'djarza ?" he asked Net.

"The jungle!" she replied. "It's huge and there are karchas and hibnets and probably gethnies!"

Rodney couldn't see Net's face but could practically hear her eyes shining with excitement. He didn't ask what the creatures she had named were, but assumed by Net's enthusiasm that they would be clawed, fanged, venomous or otherwise lethal.

During their days of travelling in dark discomfort Net had occasionally curled in as close to Rodney as she could and he had felt her shaking with silent sobs. At other times she had been irritatingly bored and had asked endless questions, most of which he couldn't answer if they were about her world. He had staved her off by describing his team and some of their adventures, embellishing as he saw fit to make his role more satisfyingly heroic; he suspected Net saw straight through any deception, but she seemed to enjoy the stories nevertheless.

Leaning against Rodney, dozing drowsily in the stifling heat, she had said, "We'll escape and then we'll rescue John and then we'll go home."

Rodney grunted in agreement but without much conviction.

The truck ground to a halt and the prisoners prepared for another brief break in their interminable journey. But when the doors were flung open this time they were confronted by the sight of a large and very busy camp, numerous wooden huts set on the uneven, muddy ground, gangs of prisoners being herded here and there and no sign of any fencing or fortifications, just the occasional watchtower. Looking at the surroundings, Rodney could see why fences were not needed. The camp was naturally fortified by dense tropical rainforest; anyone who tried to walk out would probably be lost, poisoned or eaten within days, if not hours.

The prisoners climbed out of the trucks stiffly and were released from their chains. They stood, wide-eyed and confused in the humid air. What work could they be needed for here? A familiar sound intruded on Rodney's thoughts and without thinking he whirled around and, spotting a beam of silver light rushing over the ground toward him, dived out of its path, forcing Net into the ground beneath him.

There were no shouts of fear, no pounding footsteps running to escape. Rodney heard a jeering voice from above him and raised his head from the muddy ground in time to see a booted foot swinging his way. It caught him hard in the ribs and he rolled away from Net, breathless with pain.

"Get up!"

Rodney saw the boots shift, ready to deliver another blow, but then he felt small hands on his arm, tugging him upward, and heard Net's voice, saying, "Get up, Rodney, please!"