Summary: Carson is driven to distraction by a device in his lab that appears to do nothing. Except that it goes 'ping'.
(If you're a fan of Monty Python you'll remember the line from The Meaning of Life where the doctors keep talking about the 'machine that goes ping'.)
((--)) ((--)) ((--))
Dr. Carson Beckett, Chief Medical Officer of Atlantis stood looking at the machine and scratched his head. It had been in the infirmary the day they arrived, mounted on a trolley, sleek and white with no visible controls, and about the size of a breadbox. It had continued to sit there for a year, defying all attempts at discovering its purpose.
Being in possession of a unusable gadget that could potentially cure a patient or enhance his diagnostic capabilities annoyed Carson. However, what was really driving him around the bend was the fact that every so often, for no obvious reason, the machine would go 'ping'.
The noise it made was exactly the same noise his toaster oven had made when he'd been stuck in a damp and cold flat in Edinburgh trying to complete his medical degree.
Today the machine seemed to be obsessed with letting out an irritating ping every 30 minutes.
"It must mean something," he'd told Rodney after he'd insisted Rodney come down to the infirmary and inspect the machine.
Rodney jabbed at it with a screwdriver and replied, "No it doesn't. It doesn't mean anything." Then he'd flounced out of the infirmary, his habitual scowl replaced with a darker, more scrunched up version. It was an expression that tended to leave permanent frown lines on the face of its wearer.
Carson knew from Rodney's quick admission of defeat that Rodney couldn't stand the machine any more than Carson could. Rodney and a team of scientists had attempted to unravel its mysteries when the machine was initially discovered and after two weeks they hadn't even figured out how to get the cover off. This frustration had led to a Rodney inspired temper tantrum that had resulted in Rodney repeatedly throwing the machine from a balcony and onto the pier in an attempt to crack it open. After that drastic step had failed it was decided by all concerned that it might be best to stick it in a corner and pretend they'd never seen the thing in the first place.
But all that had been before it had started going 'ping'.
The first time it made a noise – a day after being thrown from the balcony - Carson wasn't even sure he'd heard it. After its first squeak of activity the sounds had become a random event with no discernable trigger. The machine would emit a quick succession of 'pings' before it would fall silent. The machine's odd behavior had at least provided entertainment in the form of a betting pool around the day and time it would start up again.
Now it was pinging regularly, and for three days it had been imitating Carson's former toaster oven. It was maddening. No one could concentrate, the few patients he had were wearing earplugs to get some sleep and there seemed to be no good place for the machine's banishment. Sticking it in the corridor alarmed the military who thought they were dealing with a bomb. The scientists couldn't destroy it when it might actually be useful. The storage cupboards weren't soundproof. So they wheeled it in a corner, stuck a blanket over it and hoped it would shut up.
Carson made his tenth call of the day to Elizabeth Weir in an attempt to get a resolution.
"I know this is a problem for you Carson but at this point in time I can't offer you a solution."
"We've traveled by Stargate to another galaxy and we're living in a city built by Ancients. I would think this problem would be a bloody no-brainer."
There was a brief moment of silence as Carson realized he was getting snippy and Dr. Weir exercised her diplomatic skills by editing the choice remarks out of her reply.
"I'll see what I can do Carson. Weir out."
Carson went back to his reports and tried to concentrate. The pings from the machine were getting more insistent and more frequent. But, just as he was about to lose hope, Colonel Sheppard strolled into the office.
"I hear you've got a problem."
Carson swung his chair around and figured they were really getting desperate.
"Well, yes we have Colonel but I'm not entirely sure it's a problem that the uh… military arm of Atlantis would know what to do with."
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "From what I hear, the Geek Brigade has been coming up short."
"Aye, that's true."
Carson got out of his chair and made his way to the machine and took off the blanket. "What do you plan to do with it?" He asked Sheppard.
Sheppard peered at the inscrutable shininess of the machine, poked it a few times and then turned to Beckett.
"Have you tried shooting it?"
"Sorry?"
"Shooting it. I was thinking a P-90."
Carson couldn't think of an intelligent reply so he said, "No. But I don't see what—"
Sheppard held up his hand to silence the doctor. "Because it's been driving everyone nuts and if you shoot it and it shuts up, you'll feel better."
"Are you suggesting revenge Colonel?"
"Damn straight I'm suggesting revenge. Besides, if this puppy is as tough as everyone says, it's more than likely the bullets will ricochet, and you'll just shoot yourself in the foot."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you get some distance between us and your nemesis if that's any comfort."
"Yes, that would be of some comfort Colonel," replied Carson, not keeping the sarcasm out of his voice.
Sheppard smiled and without waiting for Carson he started wheeling the trolley out of the infirmary. Carson followed and as they exited, a spontaneous round of applause broke out.
((--))
Sheppard and Carson wheeled the frantically pinging machine out to one of the deserted piers on the east side of the city. It was winter and drizzle fell from dark low-hanging clouds, the sea breeze was cold, and Carson decided that he'd gone off the idea of target practice.
"Maybe it senses what we're going to do."
"What?" Carson sometimes wondered how Sheppard's mind worked.
"It's been pinging like crazy since we wheeled it out of the infirmary. Maybe it's actually some sort of artificial intelligence."
"Well, we've haven't had any indications of intelligence, but I suppose anything is possible…"
Sheppard approached the machine, raised his right hand in a Vulcan salute and in a serious tone of voice announced, "We come in peace."
"You've been hanging around Rodney too long."
Sheppard gave him a withering glare before going back to staring at the machine.
"Colonel, it's cold. Let's go back inside and try this another day."
Sheppard regarded the machine for a few more moments before making a decision. He unhooked his P-90 from his vest and handed it to Carson.
"Okay, let's back up a bit, then you can point, aim and shoot."
Carson looked at the gun, looked at Sheppard, and swallowed. He was nervous. He was nervous every time he had to hold a weapon.
"Colonel, I'm not entirely sure about this…"
"Go on. You know you want to…"
God yes, he did want to. Carson made his decision. He moved back to flatten himself against the wall and carefully ran through all the steps he'd been shown in his brief introduction to weapons handling on Earth (keep weapon pointed in a safe direction unless firing: check, keep finger off the trigger until ready to shoot: check, double-check the target: check).
Then, just as he aimed, the cloud cover broke and a stream of sunlight hit the pinging machine. The machine's pings merged together in a worrying way.
Sheppard took the P-90 back. "I think it would be a good idea to go back inside. Just in case."
"I'd agree with you Colonel."
As they turned their backs there was a squeal, a loud singular ping and then nothing. Turning around they were alarmed to find that a door on the machine had popped open. There had been no visible sign of hinges, or a frame up until that point.
Sheppard cautiously approached the machine, P-90 ready.
Carson remained by the wall. He wasn't exactly a coward but he didn't believe in taking risks. Besides, if something was about to blow-up, or melt, or emit mind bending energy waves it would be best if the CMO remained out of harm's way.
He watched as Sheppard bent down to inspect the contents of the box.
"Hey, I know what this is!" Sheppard was smiling triumphantly.
"Really?" Carson gathered his courage and joined Sheppard. He also peered into the interior of the machine and found it contained a tray on which lay a long desiccated something-or-other. He remained unenlightened. "What is it?"
"Help me take it down to the cafeteria."
"The cafeteria?"
"Doc, you just don't get it, do you? It's the Ancient version of a microwave oven."
"A microwave oven," repeated a slightly confused Carson.
"Yeah, I figure it must have run out of power or something and when Rodney took it out that first time, it must have got just enough solar power to start itself up. Presumably it's been trying to tell you that it's finished cooking."
Carson shook his head. That couldn't be right. Not at all. It was in his infirmary. That meant it was a medical device. "I'm not entirely sure about that… It's a good theory Colonel but…"
"I'm guessing that the Ancient used it to reheat meals. It must have shut down in the middle of reheating."
Carson stared at Sheppard. The military leader of Atlantis was bonkers.
"Trust me on this Carson, I know a microwave when I see it."
"Right. Right. Colonel, why don't we just take a wee stroll past the infirmary on the way?"
"Cafeteria first then the infirmary."
Carson would agree to anything as long as he could run some tests on the man who was telling him that the Ancients spent their time reheating the equivalent of frozen meals in his infirmary. Carson nodded, and before he knew it they were wheeling the accursed device towards the cafeteria.
((--)) ((--)) ((--))
It turned out that Sheppard was right. They hit the cafeteria, and an Ancient dishwasher and an oven started chiming to themselves as soon as they wheeled in the microwave. Rodney was assigned to interpret the peculiar conversation and he announced that all of the Ancient cafeteria appliances were networked together. The machine had been informing Carson that not only was the meal reheated – 10,000 years too late - but that it needed to go back to the cafeteria so that the dishwasher and the oven could download each other's databases.
Depressed at discovering the mystery machine wasn't a medical device, Carson abandoned it to the clutches of Sheppard. The machine promptly disappeared into Sheppard's quarters and requests for popcorn started appearing on the Daedalus's supply manifest.
Carson sat in his office and filled out paperwork and resented that he still had an infirmary full of equipment he hadn't figured out how to use and the one thing they finally got working was now making snacks.
Just as he was about to call it a day and head back to his quarters, a scientist came running towards him.
"Dr. Beckett! We've got another one of those machines working!"
"Oh, that's wonderful. What's it do?"
"I'll show you. It's really cool."
Feeling a little more cheerful, Carson followed the excited man out to a device that looked similar to a whiteboard. The screen was translucent. Carson had always imagined that it was another sophisticated scanning device. The scientist had managed to turn it on and was holding a stylus. With a flourish he drew on the board, and then moved a lever at the bottom to make the writing disappear.
"Etch-a-Sketch," said the scientist with a flourish.
Carson's shoulders slumped and without saying another word, grabbed the whiteboard from hell and started marching towards the nearest pier.
Once he arrived at his destination, he pushed it off the pier and into the sea.
The End