Stargate Atlantis: Latitude

Chapter 27 - Arboris

John woke to the sound of rhythmic crunching and the background murmur of many people talking in low voices.  He blinked and sat up stiffly, propping himself against the wall.  Net was munching something that looked like a large, rectangular cookie. She made an indeterminate, cookie-thwarted attempt to speak and then gestured encouragingly at the open pack beside her and the canteen.  John drank, sipping at first and then drinking thirstily.  He took a cookie, bit into it and tried to sort out the events of the last twelve hours in his head.

By the time they had arrived back at the camp the day before, John had had to admit to his concussion and just give in to feeling awful.  After that everything was pretty much a blur.  He remembered lying on one of the benches in the jumper, surrounded by crates and stacks of supplies.  He remembered being back at the city and someone cleaning the cut on his head and giving him a more conventional sling.  He also remembered Net telling him that somebody had worked out how to use the showers.  He looked down at himself and realised he was wearing one of the nasty orange jumpsuits and that he felt pretty clean.  He wasn't sure if this had been achieved under his own steam and thought it best not to enquire.

"Bit dry, aren't they?" said Net, spraying crumbs everywhere.

"Mmm," he agreed, reaching again for the canteen.  "Where's Rodney?"

Net pointed downward.  "Bottom level," she said.  "He said there were two... zed peas?  Or something..."

"ZPMs. Two?  Cool!"

"And someone found some crystals and things which Rodney thought were... cool," she experimented.  "Why do you say cool when they might be cold or hot or anything?"

"Oh, uh... It's just when something's good but you don't want to sound... um... not cool, so you say cool." John shrugged his uninjured shoulder and took refuge in a large bite of his cookie.

"Oh and Rodney said to tell you there's a chair, but I think we're okay without, don't you?  And what's the point of just one chair if we'd have to take turns?"

It was John's turn to spray cookie crumbs.  "A chair?  Did he say a control chair?"

Net shrugged.  "Maybe."

John struggled to his feet, leaning against the console as a wave of dizziness passed.

"Rodney said you had to rest!" Net ordered.

"Do you do everything Rodney says?" John enquired, with a raised eyebrow.

Net smirked guiltily and shook her head.

"Well, neither do I!  You coming?"

Net nodded.  "I'll bring these," she said grabbing the remaining cookies and the canteen of water.

"Good thinking," John said.

oOo

The control chair proved to be on the lowest level of the city, in a small room off the central hub.  The ZPMs were in a room opposite and John and Net could hear Rodney's Chief Scientist voice in full flow, directing and, frankly, harassing people.  John thought there must have been some scientists in amongst the prisoners and wondered if they might decide it had been more peaceful being slaves to the wraith and then felt guilty for thinking that, because actually he felt much better being able to hear Rodney haranguing his minions.

John and Net bypassed the commotion and slipped into the Chair Room.  The Chair sat on a raised platform and was similar in design to the Antarctic and Atlantis chairs.  Perhaps it was a little smaller, John thought, and the headrest had a slightly less elaborate design.