The Riddle of the Bells

Unbearable agony radiated outward from the clawed hand splayed across his chest, spreading throughout his entire body. He felt as if he were being turned inside out and torn to pieces. Even John Sheppard, who had always borne pain stoically and expressionlessly, felt his face contort in anguish as his back arched and his head fell back.

The last thing he saw as the starved Wraith steadily drew his life away was Kolya's smug grin.

Sheppard woke to find his face buried in his pillow, muffling the screams that lingered in his throat. If there was anybody outside, they probably hadn't heard him–––so much the better. He'd shown enough weakness to the Atlantis crew without them knowing about the nightmares.

He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in the four days since his escape from Kolya's depraved clutches. From the torture chamber with the video camera that had broadcasted his helplessness to the people who had counted on him to be strong. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of his tormentors––the hunger-crazed Wraith, the coolly controlled rage of Commander Kolya. And at night, he relived the torture, the humiliation.

Exhausted as he was, he knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night. Flicking on the light, Sheppard rolled out of bed and shuffled stiffly over to his desk, where his black notebook lay open, awaiting the entry on the events of four days ago.

He scarcely knew where to begin. But once he'd written a few words, the floodgates opened, and he couldn't write fast enough.

I should have killed Kolya when I had the chance. It wouldn't have taken much to seal him into the underground chamber where we'd found the Quindosim's ZPM, or to aim a little higher and blow his head off when he'd tried to take Atlantis in return for Elizabeth's life. But, no. I showed the bastard a little compassion, and in return, I got fed to a Wraith.

I've been tortured before. Hell, I've been tortured by Kolya before. I knew it was coming when his goons strapped me to that chair. The presence of what could only be a video camera made his intentions painfully clear. I expected him to begin with the usual threats: "We can do this my way, or we can do this the hard way," or, "If you don't tell me what I want to know, I can make this very… unpleasant." I tried to fend it off with a wisecrack. "You must have really missed me to go through all this trouble. Nice harpoon, by the way," I added dryly, referring to the method of my capture.

"To capture an extraordinary soldier takes extraordinary measures," Kolya replied smoothly. Playing nice. Not a good sign––not a good sign at all.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I said. But inwardly, I was wondering just what he was planning to do to me that merited such snake-oil salesman pleasantness beforehand.

"As you should, Colonel," he said. His voice dropped to a pitch that was much more menacing than his words. "Just as you should understand this is not personal."

Yeah, right. Not personal, my ass. He's held a grudge against me for a solid two years.

"As soon as my goal is achieved, you'll be returned to Atlantis," Kolya finished.

"That simple, huh?" On the off chance he actually meant that, it couldn't hurt to find out what that goal was. "What do you want?"

"It's not a question of what I want," he said, looking me in the eyes, "it's a question of who."

I tried to project defiance as he nodded to his men, who tied a gag over my mouth. But the sudden certainty that I wouldn't be getting out of this scared the daylights out of me.

I never thought I would be brought to the edge of never seeing daylight again.

Nevertheless, my heart was pounding as Kolya established communication with Atlantis. He stood between me and the camera until he heard Elizabeth's voice, then said, "Oh, good. I wanted to be certain you were there to see this." He stepped aside. I tried to reassure her with my eyes that I was all right ––for the moment––given that I couldn't move anything else.

Evidently, it didn't work very well. Or maybe it was the straps and the gag that put the note of panic in McKay's voice as he demanded to know what Kolya had done to me. I hoped the entire team wasn't there––whatever was about to happen, they didn't need to see it. But I somehow suspected they were.

"Nothing whatsoever, Doctor McKay," Kolya replied smugly.

"Okay, let me rephrase that: what are you planning to do?" Rodney's voice was angry now.

Elizabeth didn't even let him explain exactly what he wanted before demanding to be able to speak with me––which Rodney again rephrased to insist that I was able to speak to them.

I knew I wouldn't have much time to say what I needed to say, but I couldn't let them be swayed by what they were about to see. The instant the gag was removed, I shouted quickly, "On my command authority––" the guards were already moving to yank the gag back into place, so I phrased my message as succinctly as possible. "Whateverheasksdon'tdoit!" Then I was roughly silenced.

Kolya finally told Elizabeth what he wanted––Ladon Radim, in exchange for me. To her credit, Elizabeth stood her ground. "I'll need time to consider your offer," she said. I knew what that meant––whatever time she was given, she would use to figure out how to get me back without giving in to a common terrorist like Kolya.

But that was all the incentive Kolya needed to do what he'd really been intending to do all along. I continued to stare straight ahead as a door opened to my left. Only when I heard Elizabeth's strangled "Oh, my God," did I turn and look.

And saw a Wraith, so starved he could barely stand.

I didn't try to hide my terror––it wouldn't have worked, and besides, Kolya would have known it was a cover. Nobody stares down a Wraith unaffected. I deliberately looked away from the camera as my breath came faster and my pulse thundered in my ears. Never in my life have I been so utterly petrified.

Two Genii led the creature around behind the chair to stand to the right and in front of me as Rodney and Elizabeth loudly and desperately protested what they knew was about to happen. I just prayed Elizabeth's resolve would remain unshaken. I couldn't let Kolya use me against her, against Atlantis, like this. We couldn't let him win.

At a nod from Kolya, one guard unshackled the Wraith while the other pulled my jacket aside. Then the Wraith slammed his hand into my chest.

The pain was unbelievable, a hundred times worse than anything I've ever experienced before. I convulsed, and dimly heard Elizabeth begging Kolya to stop it. He only let the Wraith feed for a few seconds, but those seconds were interminable. When the guards finally pulled the Wraith away, the pain lingered, and I was left panting for breath, fighting to stay upright and conscious.

But the worst part, I think, is how weak I must have looked in front of my team. They'd never have any respect for me again, of that I was sure––and between that and the way I've been hiding for the past four days, I was probably right. I'll end up getting shipped back to Earth if I don't pull myself together.

Which is supposedly why I'm writing all this down.

I was unceremoniously dumped back in my cell with the promise of a repeat performance in three hours. The pain was still intense, and I was glad when the man in the adjoining cell spoke to me, distracting me for a while.

You can't imagine my horror when I found out I was talking with the very Wraith who had fed on me! Looking back, it was stupid of me to blame him––he was Kolya's pawn just as much as I was––but blame him I did. Even as he tried to talk some sense into me, I only responded with anger. I strode up to the bars that separated us and snapped, "This might come as a surprise to you, but I'm not really in the mood for conversation. So why don't you just do me a favor, and shut the hell up!"

The Wraith responded to my fury by thrusting his hand through the bars, only crash against the shackles that held him. The words he spoke next, I'll never forget. "These are your last hours, Sheppard. If you wish to spend them in silence, then so be it."

His conviction, his absolute certainty that there was no hope, spoke to the despair I had buried so deeply that I had, until that moment, denied its very existence. I tried to crush it back down, but now that I had acknowledged it, it wouldn't go away. I insisted that my friends would find me and free me.

"I hope you continue to believe that," the Wraith said in that deep, haunting voice that sent chills down my spine, "the next time I feed."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I spent the rest of those three hours in silence. With no way to give vent to my feelings, the fear and despair fed on each other and grew. When I was finally brought before Kolya again, I kept up my best defiant façade, but I let something slip that I now realize reveals how close he'd come to breaking me. "They're never gonna make the trade, Kolya," I said wearily. "Why don't you just finish this?" It makes me shiver even now to remember how prepared I was to die.

Elizabeth still didn't give in. I nodded my approval so she wouldn't feel guilty. It was the only thing I could do to lessen the horror.

The second feeding was worse than the first. The sounds of the shackles squeaking open and the Wraith's snarling had me trembling in sick anticipation of the agony to come.

He hesitated, and I stared into his eyes, silently pleading with him not to do it. But he did, leaving me barely conscious and shaking helplessly when he was pulled away.

The third time was supposed to be the last. Kolya seemed surprised when Elizabeth still stood firm. "Then you're effectively ending his life," he said.

Elizabeth's voice was smooth and tightly controlled as she said, "I'm not gonna go there." I could only hope that meant she knew I didn't blame her for my death.

I'd thought I was prepared to die. I was surprisingly calm, given the situation. But there was something about casual tone in which Kolya told the Wraith, "Take your fill," that dissolved that calm like a sand castle under an ocean wave. The Wraith, however, didn't give me time to struggle.

This time, I thought the pain alone would kill me. I felt as if I were being turned inside out and torn to pieces. But just when I thought I was done for, the Wraith did the last thing I expected.

He stopped himself.

When Kolya questioned him, he replied, "He is near death."

No kidding.

Then the Wraith asked, "Shall I finish him?" But somehow I knew, I knew, that he wouldn't do it. He didn't want to kill me.

That was when I realized we had some kind of bond, the Wraith and I. Later, after we'd escaped and he'd restored the life he'd taken from me, he told me, "The gift of life is reserved only for our most devout worshippers… and our brothers." I still don't know quite how I feel about that. I told him that if we ever meet again, all bets are off, but I don't know if that's really true. I don't think I could look him in the eyes and kill him.

But Kolya, on the other hand… The next time I so much as lay eyes on him, he's dead.

Before I left Earth, when I was still on good terms with my sister, I used to visit her whenever I got the chance, and her son Daniel always wanted me to watch a movie with him. The last time we did that, he was not quite five, and we watched Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I mention this now because I'm reminded of a few lines from the song The Bells of Notre Dame: "Here is a riddle to guess if you can, sing the bells of Notre Dame/ Who is the monster and who is the man?"

Until four days ago, I thought of the Wraith as monsters. But now I've gotten to know one, and I've found that the Wraith are people, too. That doesn't make them, as a whole, any less the enemy, but this one acted with honor. He respected me. He trusted me. He doesn't hold a grudge against me for shooting him. He is a decent man.

I've always known Kolya was a monster. The things he's done… there's just no two ways about it.

The question is, where does that put me? I've taken many, many lives––but I'm a soldier. Sometimes it's necessary to kill. But I've vowed to kill Kolya on sight. Is that necessary? What kind of a person does that make me?

What does it say about me that me resolve is not weakened by these questions?

The words on the page swam before Sheppard's eyes as he stared at them. The voice of the Wraith in his mind: These are your last hours, Sheppard. If you wish to spend them in silence, then so be it.

He knew what he had to do. It would be difficult, but he couldn't hide anymore. His life was waiting for him––he couldn't let is pass him by in silence.

But as he closed the black notebook on yet another entry, he knew the answer to that last question would be his dark secret, the burden he would carry forever.