As Promised: Here is the Sequel to "Replaced." We're not actually sure which is more amusing, the fact that it took us a year and a half to write this, or that it took us a year and a half and three hours to come up with the title!
NOTES: You Should REALLY read REPLACED first, as this is a continuation of that story and incorporates some original characters and references to its plot.
Author Notes: This was a fun story to write, and it was wonderful working with Laryn on this piece. We had a great time tearing it apart and putting it back together…and then tearing it apart again ;) Thank you to everyone who took the time to read the original, and I hope this meets up to your expectations (especially as so many of you have been waiting so patiently for this!). Enjoy!
Rating: PG 13, minor coarse language
Characters: McKay centric, Sheppard, Beckett, Zelenka, Team… EVERYONE
Length: approximately 100,000 (Hell yeah!)
Summary: Greenwall's hand is still reaching into the Pegasus galaxy, the Trust may be over ambitious, the IOA feel McKay's competence should be truly inspected and "They found telepathic steel?" Sheppard asked, simply because it had to be said.
Categories: Everything! Action/Adventure, Friendship, Angst, Drama, McKay Whump, Team, Science Stuff, Episode Related (sort of)…
Spoilers: Grace Under Pressure and Critical Mass. Everything up to that point is also fair game.
Conspiracies, Investigations, and Exploration, Oh My!
By: Laryn and Reflex
Earth, 1986
It was only when Rodney stopped explaining the correct theorem that he realized the entire class, all thirty of them, were silent and giving him various stages of what he had come to know as the "glare of jealousy." He was sitting towards the front of the ridiculously large lecture hall with everyone else crammed around and behind him, and he could still feel their eyes boring into him. He wasn't even spared the professor's look of animosity, but that was probably because the man had just realized that he was in the wrong (not something that happened very often to professors at this level) and that it had taken a sixteen year old to point it out to him. Rodney squirmed in his seat but refused to sink lower in an attempt to make himself a smaller target for their shocked and annoyed expressions.
"Well, I just thought you might want to know that it was incorrect," he muttered defensively. He knew that was probably cold comfort to the professor and the student somewhere behind him that he had corrected, but it was the truth. He could never understand why they were always so angry when he was just trying to set them on the correct path. Honestly, you'd think they didn't come here to learn. There was a cough from somewhere in the back, and then the same person Rodney had just corrected spoke up again.
"Well, actually, when he put it like that it does make more sense," Rodney had to stop himself from openly scoffing, because, duh, of course it did. Then the glares turned to pondering and some more open discussion and Rodney was thrilled when the class finally ended and he practically flew to the nearest place with food. It was only his third class and he'd already screwed up. He should have known better by now. The rest of the students were all in their final semester and knew each other and here he was waltzing into their class with none of the prerequisites they'd spent the last three and a half years accumulating, and he was correcting them already. Way to go Rodney, point out the fact that you're a know it all, that's a great way to make friends. They so hated him.
He barely remembered to mutter a thank you as he took his food and found a nice secluded corner, alone. University life was not turning out at all like he had expected. After going to high school at such a young age and one too many experiences of being stuffed in a locker, he had made the tactical decision to switch to distance education. It was easier to advance faster that way anyway. After a few years of home school, where his parents were barely around and his sister was off happily living life in her boarding school of choice, he had been absolutely thrilled to move into a life with many more social prospects. He could join a real varsity swim team, he could actually study with people…or sit and explain everything to them. He could get a fake ID and hang out with his friends, he could hook up with some of the hot blondes he'd seen in the brochure, not that he thought the average student body consisted of super attractive people, but there were bound to be a few!
Too bad he'd forgotten how young he was, and why he had retreated from high school in the first place. There were people closer to his own age at the university, but they were all first years and he had been moved into the graduating year his first semester. Even that was just for show, because he was well beyond that level of study but they wouldn't allow him to move directly into obtaining his masters and PhD without the paper trail saying he'd completed his undergrad. Therefore it was difficult to meet anyone close to his own age since he wasn't in any of the freshman classes and he lived off campus at his aunt's house. Everyone in his classes was twenty or older and basically looked down their noses at him until he showed them exactly why he was there in the first place.
University sucked, but at least the variety of food was good in Toronto, and with that thought in mind he bit into his souvlaki. His aunt said he was too skinny for his age, and if he wanted to be on the swim team he had to bulk up a bit. He figured discovering the culinary offerings of the city was one way to build his frame, and he was enjoying it immensely until a good looking guy with dark brown hair pulled out the seat across from him and promptly sat down without invitation.
"You're a hard one to track down," he said, a confident smile gracing his lips. Rodney looked into his pale green eyes and then looked around them before verifying that this stranger was indeed speaking to him.
"Excuse me?"
"You shot out of Professor Polanski's class like a bullet. I was almost hit by a car trying to catch up to you and I still didn't know where you went. It's a good thing I was hungry."
"I see…" Rodney put his souvlaki stick down and wiped his hand on his napkin. While he didn't recall ever seeing this man before, he recognized his voice; it was the same guy he'd corrected in class only a half hour before. He was so dead. "Is this the part where you threaten to beat me to a pulp for making you look like an idiot?" And why, oh why couldn't he ever just filter his words? He was surprised, however, when instead of becoming angry the guy across from him laughed. He actually laughed. Rodney looked around again to see if some one else was the cause of humour.
"Nah, I leave that up to my cronies, they're going to jump you on the way home." Rodney's eyes widened at the statement, fear clutching his stomach. He'd been jumped by cronies before and it was not an experience that he wanted to repeat. His fear was apparently blatant on his face however, as the man hastily held up both hands in front of him. "Hey, relax, I'm just kidding. You're an uptight kid, aren't you?" he asked.
"Kid?" Rodney bristled. "I'll have you know that I'm probably the most intelligent individual in this entire University, professors included and I'm sixteen, I haven't been a child for years now."
"Yep, you're definitely too uptight for your own good. I'm Archie by the way."
"Rodney," he supplied, looking him up and down from across the table and wondering, not for the first time, what the hell this guy was doing sitting at his table.
"Well, I just wanted to let you know that you were right, about the theorem."
"Of course I was." Archie laughed and shook his head, and Rodney found himself smirking in response, beginning to feel more at ease under the kind grin.
"Polanski wasn't too impressed when he realized that he's been teaching it incorrectly the last few years. It'll probably take him a while to warm up to you again."
"Again? He didn't like me the moment he met me."
"Yeah well, that's his loss, isn't it? Anyway," Archie stood and picked his bag off the floor, "I just wanted to let you know there's no hard feelings. I'll see you in class."
"Yeah, see you later," Rodney practically blurred the words together in his haste to speak them, and he watched as Archie left the tiny restaurant. Then, smiling to himself he picked up his souvlaki, not minding in the least that it was cold. This whole university thing might not be so bad after all.
* * * * * * * * * *
Atlantis, Present Day
Major Thompkins stopped outside one of several doors that lead into Atlantis' version of a briefing room. The beauty of Atlantis was visible in every delicate curve of wall and in every pane of colourful glass. He could see the care that went into every detail that made this place so majestic, but instead of pausing to admire the architecture as the door panels swung open for them, he stepped swiftly through to the next room. He stopped beside Dr. Strat, the investigating scientist who had accompanied him on this trip, and came face to face with Dr. Elizabeth Weir for the first time. The leader of the Atlantis expedition was already standing behind her desk, an air of confidence and security shrouding her as she looked them both over. A friendly smile caressed her lips, but her eyes were hard and assessing. There was no mistaking her status in this city and he automatically wondered how many times she and McKay had butted heads.
"Major Thompkins, Dr. Strat," she intoned, not bringing any true warmth to her address but still managing to sound as though she was pleased to meet them. "Welcome to Atlantis."
"Thank you, Doctor Weir, though I might say it is unfortunate that we are finally seeing this marvellous city under such difficult circumstances."
"On the contrary, Dr. Strat. I don't think your presence here needs to be difficult at all."
"That's very kind of you." Strat inclined his head in a manner that indicated she was being foolish if she thought his presence would be welcomed and almost dismissed her attempt at making it so. She didn't even twitch. "As you've been expecting us for some time, I will assume that you have made the preparations to accommodate our stay here?" The Doctor spoke for both of them and Thompkins allowed it for the moment. He wasn't much for pleasantry anyway, and he didn't have much patience for politics, despite his healthy respect for it.
"Of course," she nodded curtly. "You have both been assigned temporary quarters under the presumption that you will be here for a limited amount of time. I have not forewarned anyone other than Colonel Sheppard of your arrival, as per the instructions I was given." She looked at them both coolly and then indicated two laptops on the table in front of her. "All the personnel information can be found here, though I'm sure you already have all the data you need."
"Yes, we do. Well then," Dr. Strat clapped his hands together and rubbed them in expectation while his gaze began roaming around the room. His attempt at politics evaporated as his excitement over the city leaked through. Scientists. "I suppose we should get started then."
"Of course, however there are a few things I would like to address before I allow this investigation to begin." She looked at the Doctor pointedly and Thompkins remained silent, carefully noting the firmness of her tone and that she didn't give the shorter Doctor any time to interrupt. She was used to cutting people off, it seemed, and he wondered if she had always had that skill, or if it had recently been honed by pushy scientists who had never learned when to shut-up?
"Atlantis is primarily a scientific expedition, and we are dealing with any number of explosive issues at any given time. My people, both the scientists and soldiers, have jobs to do and if they say that they cannot be interrupted at any time then you will respect their decision and leave them to work. Furthermore, while I am allowing you a great deal of leeway in our city, if you abuse it in any way I will have you sent back to the Daedalus without a moments hesitation and I will postpone this investigation regardless of its apparent necessity. Finally," and now he noticed that she was having a bit more trouble controlling her emotions than she had portrayed thus far. "Dr. Rodney McKay is one of my most respected advisors and, as far as I'm concerned, the most qualified individual for his position within Atlantis. I want it to go on the record, again, that he has my full support and that I did not approve of his not being informed of this investigation."
Thompkins cringed. It had been months since Greenwall's installation as head-scientist. That and the discovery that Caldwell had been compromised by the Trust had shaken the SGC and launched several internal investigations. The two incidents could be completely unrelated, he supposed, but the SGC had been compromised too many times already, and the political fallout among their earth-based allies had been difficult. The on-going investigation into Greenwall's actions was only making the situation worse, since it had become increasingly difficult to trace the actions leading to his placement in Atlantis. Even so, Thompkins had been pleased to learn that General O'Neill had refused to stop the investigation into Greenwall's actions, even if it meant that the SGC had to officially investigate Dr. McKay's competence as chief-scientist for the expedition.
It wasn't as if he'd never been investigated.
Still, they hadn't wanted to give McKay time to prepare for it, either. Command believed that catching the people under investigation off guard would create a more realistic environment to assess them in. It was a discourtesy for someone in McKay's position, and he felt that the Doctor should have been informed, but honestly, Thompkins didn't think that Rodney would have bothered to pull himself away from his work long enough to prepare even had he known.
"Of course, Dr. Weir, your support of Dr. McKay has been noted several times and I will make another notation. Now, where exactly are Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay? I had thought that they would be here when we arrived." He looked around suspiciously as though he expected them to pop out from behind a chair.
"You arrived a few hours earlier than expected. Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay are still off-world." Even as she finished speaking a warning klaxon sounded through the room and Weir nodded in satisfaction to herself. "That's probably them now, shall we?" She gestured to the entranceways to reveal Atlantis' gate room below. It was early morning in the city and the sunlight was filtering through the stained glass from all around, casting an almost magical atmosphere. There was nothing magical about the soldiers that lined the side of the floor below, however, aiming their weapons directly at the Stargate in battle ready stances.
"It's the Colonel's IDC," someone called from her right. Thompkins assessed their actions even as he moved to the edge of the platform overlooking the Stargate, his hand automatically straying to his sidearm before he called himself on the action. Dr.'s Weir and Strat moved to the railing a few feet from him. There was a whooshing sound as the giant ring engaged and a moment later several people stepped though the shimmering water-like wall.
They were dirty, filthy in fact. The large Satedan, whom he recognized from his initial debrief as Ronon Dex, strolled through the gate and lowered his weapon. He was limping slightly and covered in mud from neck to boots and Thompkins heard him actually growl at the soldier nearest to him who apparently couldn't resist smiling. Immediately behind him came a shorter individual who was covered in mud even more completely than his teammate. Lt. Colonel John Sheppard had his weapon already lowered at his side and he flashed a reassuring grin to the men pointing their guns at him, not even asking them to point the weapons in a different direction. Thompkins sight was drawn to his right hand, which had the unmistakable stain of blood soaked into the sleeve. He watched as Sheppard looked up to search for Dr. Weir, and he nodded at Thompkins as he noted his presence. Thompkins nodded back, not missing how the man's entire body stiffened as he took a good look at his two guests.
"Colonel?" Weir asked, not bothering to hide the concern in her voice as she stared down at only two of the four-person team.
"They're coming," he reassured her, and then true to his words Rodney McKay and Teyla Emmagen emerged from the wormhole, only their ankles covered in the mud the other two seemed to be living in. Thompkins barely spared the beautiful woman a glance as his sight zeroed in on McKay.
"I can't believe you pulled me away from my work to go traipsing through the Avocado Jungle of Mud! What a complete and utter waste of time!" He stomped his boot clad feet on the ground, trying to dislodge the small trace of muck from the hem of his pants to no success.
"Report," Weir requested, not moving from her position. Rodney was too busy looking disgustedly at his feet to bother looking up at her request.
"We didn't find any indication of a settlement on the planet. We're assuming the Ancients used it as a means to get to another planet in close proximity," Sheppard reported.
"That or they were investing in a chain of beauty salons," Rodney grumbled.
"People on Earth cover themselves in mud for beauty?" Ronon quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused by the idea.
"It seems to be working wonders for you," Rodney bit back, looking at the much taller, much more physically intimidating man in annoyance. Ronon grinned and casually pulled out a large serrated knife, despite the guns aimed at him, and used it to scrape away the sludge from his forearm. Rodney stared a moment and then apparently decided the safest bet was to aim his attention elsewhere, and he finally looked up to address Dr. Weir.
His mouth opened to speak just as his eyes fell on Dr. Strat and he closed it just as quickly. His piercing blue gaze slid over to rest on Thompkins and Jerry could see the gears in his head turning. Recognition had been instantaneous. Thompkins nodded at him slightly in greeting but made no other move, and Rodney huffed loudly while the surrounding soldiers finally lowered their weapons and began filing away.
"Well," he glared between the three of them before addressing Strat and himself, "it took you people long enough to get here! I've been sitting around for weeks wondering when you'd arrive."
"Dr. McKay, if you could join us in my office please?" Weir asked.
"What?" He actually looked surprised at the suggestion. "Right now? I'm absolutely covered in mud and saturated with who knows how many contagions. My internal organs could be on the verge of shutting down due to an alien virus and there isn't even a decent doctor around to ensure my survival!" The Doctor who had been waiting off on the sidelines with her medical team gave him a rather pinched death glare that McKay either didn't see or didn't care about enough to acknowledge.
"Fine, go to the infirmary and then get cleaned up. I wouldn't want you to get sick from all of that mud," there was a grin in her voice and Thompkins noted that Teyla and Ronon were not holding back their own exasperated smiles as they began heading out, though Ronon's looked more fierce then amused. Sheppard just rolled his eyes. "I'll expect you in my office along with Colonel Sheppard in an hour," Weir relented with an air that suggested she was used to this form of complaint. With that they headed off to the far side of the room to follow the emergency doctor and medics back to the infirmary. Dr. Strat was already complaining that McKay had been expecting their presence and Weir was performing damage control as she assured him that Dr. McKay had not been informed of their imminent arrival. Thompkins stayed where he was, one hand lightly grasping the cool railing as he watched McKay and his crew slowly file out, leaving clumps of mud in their wake.
When they were at the door Rodney paused and turned back, his eyes narrowing as he focused directly on him. He stared a long moment and Thompkins felt as though he could physically see the delicate gears in the great mind work as they assessed, hypothesized and then came to a quick conclusion. McKay nodded to himself, an unconscious gesture, and then pointed his finger directly at Thompkins.
"When this is over," he raised an eyebrow as if daring Thompkins to interrupt, "you owe me a drink. No excuses." Jerry couldn't help the twist of his lips as they pulled into a quick smile before once again schooling his features. He had just been granted an ultimatum, and though he hadn't expected McKay to take his presence personally it had bothered him that it might turn into that. Regardless of the outcome of this investigation they would still have some form of connection and for now, that was good enough for him.
* * * * * * * * * *
It wasn't quite an hour later when McKay and Sheppard finally arrived for the briefing, minus the mud, to find Dr. Weir and their two guests waiting for them.
"I'd like to ask you a few questions, Dr. McKay, but if you'd rather we do this privately…" Strat looked over at McKay with an appraising eye. He was flanked on either side by Lt. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir, and did not appear uncomfortable in their presence. Both looked to McKay for direction though, leaving the decision to stay or to go with him.
"I'd prefer they stay," he bristled. Dr. Strat nodded, and waited as they found seats opposite him. It was the wisest course of action given the investigation and his apparent history with Dr. Greenwall, and one that Strat would have recommended if asked.
"I'm aware that you understand the purpose of my visit here, Dr. McKay." He did his best to ignore the annoyed looks from the other side of the table and glanced down at McKay's files. He'd had to investigate many prominent scientists within the Stargate program, but that experience didn't make his current job any easier, because he hadn't yet had to investigate the one Doctor in the program who was legendary for making his subordinates cry by simultaneously giving them a compliment and an insult.
"I will try not to interfere with the functioning of the city while I conduct interviews, but I should apologize for the inconvenience that this will cause you over the next few weeks. I am well aware of your busy schedules," he rambled off his platitude without looking up.
"Then how about we speed this up, hmmm?" McKay raised an eyebrow at him, one arm on the table while his fingers waved a hurry-up motion in the air as he waited for Dr. Strat to get on with the interview. Dr. Weir placed her hand on his arm briefly, as if to forestall any further animosity. Strat nodded absently, looking over his files and barely registered the huff of annoyance from across the table.
"To be clear then, Major Thompkins is here to investigate some security issues for the SGC, while I investigate your competence as the leader of the Atlantis Science Expedition. Some recent events, both here and on Earth have created causes for concern."
"Let me guess, Dr. Greenwall wouldn't have anything to do with these 'causes for concern' that are suddenly striking fear into the hearts of the International Oversight Advisory, would he?" Strat barely registered the question as he nodded. He had read through McKay's file before, but he continued to be fascinated by the man's achievements. Frankly, it was damn near impossible to escape the Doctor's legend at Area 51, where his irritating attitude and lack of people skills had been overshadowed only by his brilliance. The other scientists might not care for McKay's acerbic style, but references to his work were still littered throughout their research. It was impossible to find a research project that didn't cite at least one of his theories.
"He has brought some concerns to our attention, but rest assured that his actions in Atlantis are still undergoing review and his current place within the program or outside of it has not yet been decided."
McKay stared at him a moment and then shifted his gaze to look at Sheppard and Thompkins, who sat quietly off to the side, before looking back at him.
"What kind of security issues?" Sheppard asked with a pointed look at Thompkins.
"O'Neill has some concerns about McKay's safety given the number of accidents he's had since Greenwall left." Well, that certainly got his attention, Strat thought. "There have been three known high-level security breaches within Atlantis in the last six months and no reason to believe that Caldwell, Greenwall, or Sandburg were acting independently. O'Neill wanted me to either find their accomplices or confirm that these accidents really were accidents."
There was a moment of contemplative silence as the Atlantis team absorbed the new information. "I'll want to go over those reports with you, Major." Sheppard made clear as he watched the Major.
"Of course, sir. There's a lot we still don't know about Greenwall's assignment to Atlantis, but one fact has become glaringly obvious – his placement in Atlantis required some fairly significant political backing. We can't prove it yet, but O'Neill is convinced that he has buddied-up to the Trust, and that this was simply another bid by the Trust to gain control of Atlantis. Both he and Caldwell attempted to detonate a bomb within the city, and-"
"Oh, please. Greenwall is incompetent and an ass, but he isn't suicidal." McKay cut him off, crossing his arms as if to emphasize the point and Thompkins nodded at him.
"Agreed, but since both bombs had the potential to destroy the only gate access to this galaxy, Command is going to make absolutely certain of that. "
"What about Caldwell, can he help?" Weir asked.
"Colonel Caldwell is still undergoing medical treatment for the removal of his Goa'uld symbiote, and his memories of the last four months are sketchy, at best," Thompkins informed them gravely.
"At this point," Strat looked up from his files to gaze solemnly around the room, "it remains unlikely that the Colonel will remember anything of significance in regards to the symbiote's contacts on Earth even after a full recovery. We need to be certain of the security between our two galaxies, and General O'Neill wants to be sure that Dr. McKay is not a new target of the Trust."
"While it's great that O'Neill is concerned about my safety, can we get started here? I'm a busy man, things to do, planets to blow up," he waved his hand around and Strat frowned.
"That is not funny, Dr. McKay."
"You should have seen it from my side," drawled Sheppard quietly. McKay huffed at him, but some of the tension left his shoulders.
"As I mentioned, recent events have caused some concern about your position here in Atlantis. Obviously the incident on Doranda is one of them. Since then, however, there have been several occasions where your lack of insight has led to several dangerous situations." He looked up to see that McKay was no longer fidgeting with his apparently endless energy, but was instead staring at him with a look that was almost capable of killing a man on the spot. It seemed he had hit a bit of a nerve. "I have to ask because I need to get your personal insight into these situations."
"Ask away," came the controlled response.
"Recently, there was an incident that led to Colonel Sheppard being stuck in a time dilation field for six months. Could you tell me how you allowed this to happen, in your own words, please?"
"Right, my own words, because obviously I would speak for someone else in this instance," Rodney glared. "Have you ever been off world, Doctor?" The special emphasis on his title annoyed Dr. Strat.
"Yes, several times in fact."
"In a situation where you weren't peeking over the shoulder of a scientist in a controlled environment?" Strat paused a moment before conceding the point.
"No, not in that case."
"Fine, I shouldn't have to remind you that being a part of the first contact team guarantees that my team-mates and I are going to be the first to run into anything truly dangerous. SG-1 practically made a career out of it. That being said, and despite my ample experience and intelligence, there is always room for error. The situation with Sheppard should not have happened, I should have exercised more caution before allowing him to stick his hand in places it doesn't belong. Despite that lapse in judgement, I feel that we did everything we possibly could do to retrieve him and, obviously it worked out in the end."
"So you're saying you do not feel the fault lies with you?"
"No, I'm saying that I should have been more cautious and so should the rest of my team, but in a field where you are continually stepping into the unknown it's very difficult to have control of your environment." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his seat. Dr. Strat watched him before making a few notes and then nodded to himself.
"Very well. What can you tell me about the situation involving the Goa'uld infiltration through Colonel Caldwell?"
"It sucked." Sheppard couldn't control his laugh, and Strat frowned at McKay.
"Dr. McKay, if you are not going to take this situation seriously…"
"I am taking this situation very seriously," he snapped. "But it would help if you asked more specific questions, because my list of concerns about a Goa'uld symbiote in command of the Daedalus could take us into next week. I was answering your question as truthfully as I could." Dr. Strat felt a headache coming on.
"Very well. Do you feel that the situation was handled to the best of your ability?" The leader of Atlantis' science contingents eyes widened slightly and then he glanced at Thompkins as if to confirm he heard it right. Really, it was a perfectly legitimate and, considering the cause for this investigation, reasonable question to ask.
"No, I generally enjoy waiting until the last possible moment to save the day because it builds my self esteem," he huffed. "Of course I did everything in my ability. If you'll recall, the ZedPM was set to explode and the one man with the access codes to override our system had been infected by a Goa'uld. That's not exactly an easy fix! Next question," he barked, clearly irritated as he shook his head and rolled his eyes. McKay checked his watch, pulled his lips into even more of a frown, and looked up expectantly. McKay's attitude was beginning to grate on his nerves and he'd only been in Atlantis for a few hours. Dr. Strat frowned, deciding to humour him for the moment and moved on to the next question
"I apologize if this next question is too personal for you, Dr. McKay…"
"But you're going to ask it anyway so don't bother with the platitudes. What is it?" Fine, if he didn't want him to beat around the bush that was okay with him. It would make this interview go faster so he could move on to more pleasant company.
"You're recent altercation with a previous member of your team, Lieutenant Ford, ended with your subsequent overdose on the Wraith enzyme, correct?"
"Yes." Strat didn't bother to look up from his paper as he felt the glare from the doctor across the desk. He skimmed the report, noting details about the difficult withdrawal and the recovery time. McKay was released from the medical centre shortly after the main symptoms had abated, but he had reported in twice daily until Dr. Beckett felt that it had completely left his system.
"How have you been feeling since then? Are you continuing to speak to Doctor Heightmeyer about the incident?" There was a heavy silence and Major Thompkins shifted in his seat for the first time the entire meeting.
"It is standard procedure to speak to a psychiatrist for a minimum of three months after a traumatic incident that involves the threat of your life or the life of someone close to you," McKay leaned forward. "I've been seeing Dr. Heightmeyer on a regular basis since we arrived in Atlantis and, not that it is any of your business, but I'm feeling fine. I was cleared both medically and psychologically before resuming my full duties in Atlantis."
"I am well aware of that. The reason for our concern, is that this isn't the first time you've been forcibly subjected to narcotics and we need to know whether or not this fact will negatively influence any future decisions you might have to make in your position." He looked up to see that McKay looked as though he had been slapped. Perhaps he had been a little too cold in his last delivery? Despite his arrogance this entire situation must have affected McKay somehow. The Canadian stared at him a moment, his face turning pale and then, alarmingly, it began to get a little red and the man looked over at Thompkins sharply.
"That information was classified!" He snapped at him.
"Yes, it was." There was a dangerous undercurrent in the soldier's tone and Strat found himself shuffling the papers before him as a distraction when four sets of angry eyes focused on him, silently waiting for an answer.
"It was classified. With the newest threats to Stargate security, it was felt that certain cases should be released…under the strictest of authority I assure you," he hastily added at their heated glares.
"Why wasn't I informed of this?" McKay asked very quietly, and for the first time Dr. Strat actually felt nervous to be around this man.
"You were to be informed in this meeting, Dr. McKay. I understand that this may feel as a breach to your privacy but…"
"No, I really don't think you understand how this feels, Doctor," he snarled and stood slowly from his seat. Sheppard and Weir both looked up at the motion, confusion evident on their faces. "That file was classified under orders so deep that even its' existence was classified. I should have been informed the minute that status changed! As for your questions, let me tell you something: I have managed to recover from both instances with the same intelligence, insight and ability to lead as I had before. Will it happen again? With the way our luck seems to be progressing I have to assume so, and when it does I will deal with it in the best way I know how. I expect that the information in classified files will only be seen by parties that need to know." It was a demand disguised as a question and Strat nodded positively because, of course, it was the case. "Fine, then this meeting is over. If you need me for anything else you can contact me, but make sure it's important." And with that he stormed out of the room.
There was a moment of pained silence before Sheppard spoke, his attention clearly divided between the need for answers and the need to follow McKay. He turned his attention to Dr. Weir. "Elizabeth?"
"Go, John. I'd like to ask Dr. Strat a few questions now." Her tone left no doubt that she was irritated with the situation. Sheppard nodded, and then hurried from the room in the wake of McKay's footsteps.
Well, that went well.
"You should have informed me that that information had recently been declassified. We might have been able to avoid that particular explosion if you had," she instructed him.
"Of course, that is painfully obvious in hindsight," he answered, closing the file before him and frowning. He didn't want to be conducting interviews, he wanted to see how McKay and the rest of Atlantis worked. "My apologies, Dr. Weir, I did not intend for this to happen."
"Good. In the meantime, I suggest you give Dr. McKay time to cool down."
"I don't understand why he was so upset. It's not like he was the only one who knew what was in those documents."
"Other people knowing is not why he was upset, Doctor." Thompkins answered sharply, and then left the room to go do…whatever it was that men like him did in situations such as these. Weir frowned at the soldier's response, before turning her attention back to him.
"I'd like to have copies of that file available as soon as possible, Doctor. There are some details I will need to review," she pointed out sadly. As director for the SGC and then the Atlantis expedition, she had been on the need to know list for years. Strat nodded as she left, and then pushed away from the table and stood with a smile on his face, now he could conduct a few interviews on location. It would be a great excuse to see the labs and what everyone was up to.
* * * * * * * * * *
Earth, Present Day
Gerald stood silently, watching the man in the room beyond the two-way mirror carefully. He had been waiting for the better part of ten minutes, and despite the fact that the man in the interrogation room had barely moved a muscle or shown any unease as he waited, Gerald could see that he was growing impatient, and this made him smile.
Archibald Greenwall had remained one of the coolest customers the Stargate Program had ever detained throughout all his months as a prisoner of this facility. He had adamantly proclaimed his innocence since his return from Atlantis and his determination had not wavered in the slightest, despite all the evidence that had been piling against him. Then the key witness in his prosecution, Giles Sandburg, had died in his holding cell. It was at that time that Gerald had been assigned to the investigation.
Because Greenwall was smart, and he had been setting up a defense that had the possibility of working in his favor and the SGC, despite the secrecy and specialty of their program, was still bound by the law to give him a fair trial. That didn't mean it would be a public trial, but Greenwall still had the right to one and he was manipulating the system as much as he could. The problem was that he was coming across as very believable, very likeable, and very innocent. It had been his assertion, after his return on the Daedalus, that Dr. McKay was unfit to continue as the leader of the science expedition in Atlantis, and after months of obstinately stating this fact and a few questionable actions on Atlantis, people had begun to speculate and a precautionary investigation had been ordered.
That had pissed Gerald off.
He didn't know Dr. McKay, he hadn't even heard about him until agreeing to take this assignment, but he had been getting to know Greenwall very well and the more he learned about the man, the more he disliked him. Despite his charm and intelligence there was something so patently false about his sincerity, so blatantly sinister about his disposition, that it rubbed Gerald in all the wrong places. After the death of Dr. Sandburg, due to poisoning, he had been asked personally by General O'Neill to take this case, and now there was no way he would give it up.
As he watched the man sit and wait in the hard metal chair they had provided, his cuffed hands resting on the surface of the cold table, Gerald saw his jaw clench and his hands squeeze tightly together and smiled to himself again. Greenwall was not a patient man, not by a long shot, and that impatience was finally beginning to bleed through. It was the only sign Gerald needed to see and he picked up his briefcase and left the viewing room to enter the interrogation room, nodding to the guard outside the door as he crossed the threshold. Greenwall's sharp eyes were on him the moment he stepped into the room, his annoyance clear though he plastered a pleasant smile on his face and nodded a greeting.
"Good morning, Mr. Prince."
"Good afternoon, Dr. Greenwall," he replied blandly. He had made Greenwall wait for over half an hour and was satisfied with the results as the man's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before he took control of his emotions once again. Over the last few months he had slowly and methodically been picking at Greenwall's control, discerning the things that annoyed him, that angered him the quickest, and then he had begun to use them against the doctor, slowly so it wouldn't be blatantly obvious. Gerald Prince hadn't been selected for this investigation simply because he was good at his job. O'Neill had asked him to do this because he had the patience and the skill to get the answers they needed from the smartest, most cunning people they came across. Greenwall had been living his life with such tight, rigorous control for so long that simply barging in and demanding that he answer their questions was not going to work.
Gerald put his briefcase on the table and opened it, slowly pulling out a few files. He then pulled out a red pen, a blue pen, a black pen, a small ruler and a bottle of slow drying white-out before closing it and pushing it to the side. Greenwall watched, his eye twitching slightly in annoyance as he was forced to wait even longer for the question and answer session to begin. Gerald clasped his hands together and looked up at him.
"Can I get you anything to drink, Doctor?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Are you still claiming innocence in the attempted murder of Dr. McKay?"
"That is correct. I had nothing to do with that accident."
"Okay, I just needed to ask before we continued, procedure and all that," which was true, but also because Greenwall hated repeating himself and Gerald had made him do so twice a week, every week, since he'd been brought in on this investigation.
"Okay then," he looked down at his files. "Let's see, the last time we spoke you told me that the reason you're so adamant about Dr. McKay not being in a position of command is due to his unstable personality?"
"That is correct."
He had spent hours upon hours, sometimes days in a row, going over the files of both McKay and Greenwall, learning what he could about them and, more specifically about Greenwall. In fact, when he had originally started the investigation he had focused solely on Greenwall, which he had learned a month and a half later, was a mistake, because the man's record was spotless. Literally. It was too clean cut, too well organized. There were no official complaints logged, no incident reports, and nothing to suggest any wrongdoing at all within his career.
When he had started to go over McKay's file he had begun to make some connections, but it had taken a lot of digging. The pieces had slowly begun to fall in place for him though, and now he was using that information to try and draw a confession out of Greenwall.
"Forgive me if I don't agree with you there. Every scrap of evidence that I have procured has indicated that Dr. McKay is perhaps the most intelligent man, scientifically speaking, in the entire program." Another way to make Greenwall angry was to bring up McKay's superior intelligence. It didn't fail this time as the man's nostrils flared.
"That may be, but it is a proven fact that people with intelligence at a level as high as his have trouble adjusting to reality."
"Some do, this is true, but there has been no evidence that this is the case with McKay. Fortunately he seems to be very grounded in reality most of the time, which I have to admit is impressive."
"He's not as stable as you believe, he just hides it well. McKay is extremely intelligent, but his intelligence leads him to be overconfident, over focused, to the point where he gets caught within his own mind. We could call it extreme tunnel vision, and I believe Arcturus is a prime example of this. What happens the next time he gets that entangled with one of his pet theories? I'm not denying his intelligence," Greenwall's eye twitched as he said this, "but as a leader I don't think he has the necessary decision making skills. He has cost people their lives. Several times. That is not acceptable."
"I see," Gerald looked down at his pile of files and flipped the one on top open, effectively stopping that argument, which had Greenwall practically grinding his teeth in aggravation. "You went to school with him, did you not?"
"Yes, I did."
"Would I be correct to assume that this is where you first met Dr. McKay?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"So you feel that perhaps you know him better than others, that you have a closer connection, and that this is the basis of your accusations?" Now Greenwall's eyes looked away from his on their own volition and Gerald could see for a brief moment when Greenwall was no longer in this room, but remembering something from his past, before he quickly refocused and agreed with what Gerald said. Whatever he had remembered, it was clear that he was regaining his control and the irritation Gerald had been able to stir within him was being tightly controlled again. Well, that was his cue to leave, because he wasn't going to waste time now that Greenwall had regained his high ground. He abruptly began putting away his things and stood. "Okay, those are all the questions I had for today."
"Really? It's barely been ten minutes."
"I'm well aware of that. Have a good day." He left, feeling the green eyes watching him until he shut the door to the interrogation room. He looked at the guard. "Leave him in there for about an hour, then you can take him back to his cell."
"Yes, sir."
He nodded and left, already planning his next interview. It was going better, now that he was able to break into the man's controlled demeanor. Very soon he would begin dealing with the real reasons for the investigation, and steer towards the answers they needed. However, that didn't stop his own curiosity of the relationship between the two doctors from tickling his mind, and he wondered just what it had been that Greenwall had remembered.
* * * * * * * * * *
