Chapter 3

* * * * * * * * * *

Earth, 1990

Make...The Pounding...Stop. Pleeeeasssse… Rodney groaned, long and loud, as the light from his windows filtered into his room and across his sprawled body, slowly forcing him from his deep slumber. He had the worst headache…no wait, it was a hangover. He had the worst hangover in the entire history of hangovers, the fact that he'd never had a hangover before not withstanding. Oh, but this was painful! Why would anybody willingly subject himself to such torture on a weekly basis? He had been tipsy before this, on one or two occasions, but never before had he drunk with such abandon and, judging by the way he felt, he never would again. He needed his brain cells, even if he was the only one this side of the planet with any to spare.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to wake up and acknowledge the grit in his eyes and taste of dirty socks that coated his entire mouth with the worst state of morning breath he had ever experienced. Slowly, with the coordination of a dizzy puppy, he reached a hand out and snagged the glass of water that sat on his night stand from two nights before and guzzled it down. It tasted like pure heaven, but it didn't do anything for the fuzzy pounding that encompassed his entire head.

Just exactly how the hell had he managed to fall into this state anyway? He rubbed at his eyes and then shoved his too long brown hair out of them. He'd been meaning to get it cut for weeks now, but he had been working on the final stages of his thesis and had never made an appointment. Oh wait, that's right…with a small grin breaking out on his lips he stretched beneath his sheets. Archie had taken him out last night, courtesy of a fake ID, to celebrate the completion of his paper (four days early at that), the one that was going to break him into the world of astrophysics once and for all. He was nineteen and this thesis was the ground work for the PhD he'd be striving for next. It was a beauty, and it was finished, and they had celebrated. Man, had they celebrated.

He could honestly say the previous night wasn't of the form of entertainment he was used to or usually cared to partake in, but Archie had been adamant that they hit the bars and who was Rodney to turn down his best friend's attempts at celebrating for him. It's not like anyone else would…but in the end it turned out someone else had. Glancing down his naked chest to the blankets pooled loosely around his waist, his grin grew. There was nobody in his bed now, but there had been, and she had been everything he thought his first time would be like. God did he love red heads, and she had been wonderful, just perfect. He was a bit disappointed that she hadn't stuck around, maybe make another go of it, but he had understood that it was just a one night thing and frankly he wasn't going to complain. Not in the least.

Properly awake now he took notice of the sun streaming through his open curtains for the first time, and then he frowned. His window was southwest facing, so for sunlight actually be flooding into his room like that it had to be at least…he looked at the alarm clock that sat beside the now empty glass of water. 3:23 in the afternoon. His eyes widened. He'd lost an entire day! How the hell had he slept so damn late? He'd never slept that long in his entire life, despite the fact that he really couldn't recall what time he'd left the bar. He shoved his blankets aside and leapt to his feet, only to sit back down heavily as blackness edged his vision from standing up so fast. His next effort was more controlled and he stumbled, with dignity, to the washroom attached to his bedroom.

A short but reviving shower later had him feeling ten times better, despite the continuous pounding in his head and the minor bouts of nausea that kept creeping up on him and he sauntered back into his room. His bedroom door was wide open but he had no worry about privacy as he lived alone in his apartment. He had moved from his aunt's house two years before, after finally receiving enough scholarship funds to escape that hell and slowly begin to gain complete freedom from his family. His parents had called him once the first Christmas he was here but had forgotten this last time around, and Rodney had barely noticed. Regardless, living alone had been the greatest decision of his life.

Now, however, he was running late as he had planned on submitting his thesis this afternoon so he could have it out of his way and focus on other things. Quickly pulling on his clothes he contemplated stopping for food on his way to school or simply making toast here and hope that it would settle in his stomach. He briefly wondered how much of the alcohol he'd consumed had affected his sugar levels, but as he didn't feel too bad he figured he was fine. He decided on toast.

Munching on the lightly buttered bread he went back into his room, swung his school pack onto his desk and made to place his thesis within its safety, and then he frowned. He could have sworn he left the inch thick, black spiral-bound document right on his desk. Looking around he frowned as he didn't see it anywhere on top, so he decided to check underneath as it was possible it had been knocked off. He only had flashes of memories from the night before, but he did remember that their path to the bed hadn't been linear. He grinned as he bent to his hands and knees, shoving the chair out of his way and looked underneath the table. It wasn't there either.

The smile disappeared. He searched around and under his dresser and bed next, before heading into his small living area and kitchen. There wasn't much by way of furniture other than a table, some chairs and a couch. He didn't have the time for TV and as he spent such a small amount of time actually at his apartment he had never felt the need to properly decorate. It wasn't there either. He wasn't panicking, but he was confused as hell. He wasn't absent minded, far from it, and this was annoying the hell out of him. Well, whatever, he wasn't going to waste time searching for it anymore. Obviously he had misplaced it due to his escapades the night before.

He went to his computer and booted the boxy thing up, waiting impatiently as it beeped to life. The thing was always so damn slow and if he'd had time he would have fixed that, but as he was always busy it had never happened. While he waited he shoved more blank paper in the printer, thankful he actually had his own so he wouldn't have to go and use one of the schools. He didn't bother taking a seat as he opened the program he'd typed his thesis in and then went to open his thesis, and he frowned. This time his stomach churned uncomfortably as he searched through his files and couldn't find the one he wanted. Well, fine, he'd had the foresight to save his work to a floppy disk as well. He opened his desk drawer and searched through the few black disks that resided there. He couldn't find it. The churning in his stomach turned into a heavy knot and his attempt at calm went right out the window.

He spent the next hour tearing his apartment apart, frantically searching for his work, but he couldn't find any trace of it. Without another thought he grabbed his bag and, barely remembering to lock his door, left to find Archie. He'd know what to do.

Twenty-five minutes later found him pounding on his closest friend's door, the music blaring from inside the house grating on his last nerves as he waited impatiently for Archie or one of his housemates to answer. It didn't take long.

"I need to see Archie," he demanded, forestalling any greeting and the football jock that answered barely acknowledged him as he shut the door in his face. If Rodney hadn't been used to the treatment from this particular group of Archie's friends he would have been insulted. At that moment he really didn't give a rats ass: his paper was missing and he didn't know what the hell was going on! When the door opened his dark haired friend stepped out and then closed it, a frown on his face.

"What's up?"

"The red head, the one you introduced me to last night-"

"What about her?"

"I need to find her, and fast! She stole my thesis! It's the only possible explanation for its disappearance!"

"Whoa, slow down a second, Rodney. She took your thesis?" He looked incredulously down at him.

"She must have. I woke up and it was gone. Everything is gone! My disks, the hard copy on my computer, the thesis itself! Those were the only back-ups I had and she took them all!" He paced back and forth on the front porch worry etched all over his face. "I need it back, you have to help me," and he might have come across as a bit desperate, but Archie would understand. Hell, his friend was just finishing up his first Master's thesis himself; he knew how much work went into it. This was Rodney's second Master's degree at stake here!

"Actually, I don't," Archie's calm reply stopped Rodney mid-rant and he turned wide, incredulous blue eyes on the man.

"What? What do you mean you don't? You're the one who introduced me to her in the first place!"

"If you can't keep track of your personal belongings that's not my problem Rodney, it's yours, and you're going to have to deal with it yourself." The words were like a slap to the face. What the hell? Seriously, what the hell! Archie had never spoken to him like that before, with such coldness and something he thought might have been anger?

"If I can't keep track…she STOLE it from me! Everything! What the hell is the matter with you?" He just couldn't believe that Archie could be like this! He was supposed to be his best friend, but Rodney stilled suddenly, his waving arms dropping to his side, his breaths heavy from his mad dash to get here, and he looked at Archie. The older man was staring at him silently, as if waiting for him to connect the dots. There was no warmth on his face, not even a scrap of the friendliness that Rodney had become so familiar with over the last three years. He swallowed thickly, not wanting to believe what Archie seemed to be waiting for him to understand. His heavy breathing was no longer just the result of his run.

"You…Archie, she stole it from me for you?" The concept was too absurd; it must be some kind of joke. Yes, a joke! Oh my god, and he'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. He grinned now, a relieved smile and even laughed, though it admittedly wasn't that funny but the relief was a bit overwhelming. "You asshole! You really had me going there! I can't believe you went to all that effort to get a rise out of me. Ha ha." Archie merely watched him. "Now seriously, the joke's up. You can give me back my paper now."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rodney. I don't have your paper," he responded and the door behind him opened suddenly and the same guy from before, beer in hand, looked between them before settling on his housemate.

"Arch, get back in here! We can't have a party without the man of honor!"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec. I'm just taking care of something."

"Whatever, man," and he disappeared back inside where the music seemed to increase in volume. Archie looked back at Rodney and grinned a tight lipped, half smile that was nothing but smugness and venom. Rodney was at an absolute loss for words.

"I've got to get back. We're celebrating my thesis, I handed it in just a few hours ago," Rodney's throat closed up and for the first time in as long as he could remember he was speechless. He had absolutely no words, and Archie continued as though they were talking about the weather or the neighbour's dog. "It's a nice piece of work, I'm real proud of it. It needed a few touch ups in the end to make it flow better, to put it in my own voice so to speak, but the all-nighter I pulled took care of that."

"You…my thesis and you just…I can't believe-"

"Believe what you want Rodney, you always do," he sneered, becoming someone Rodney had never seen before, a stranger with a cold, hard glare that looked at him like he was some kind of diseased rodent.

"But, why?" And he did not sound heartbroken and his voice did not crack and he was not going to break down in front of this person that had been his best friend and whom he had literally trusted more than anyone else. He absolutely refused to fall that far. He glared, or tried to as much as he could, but it didn't have the effect he was going for as Archie's demeanor didn't change. It didn't even crack.

"Why? If you can't figure that out then you might as well stop calling yourself a genius," he replied with a neutral tone and then, after a moment, decided to add more. "In this world Rodney, in this day and age, if you want to become something great you have to be smart about it."

"I am smart! That's why I wrote the damn thesis!"

"There's smart, and then there's smart. You have the drive and the intelligence, but you lack the skills. It's nothing personal kid, I'm just ensuring my future. Take care of yourself," the platitude was so fake Archie should have just handed Rodney the plastic mould it came from. And then the man was gone, back inside his home where the music was pumping and the beer was being passed around and cheers of Greenwall's success were flying through the open windows and into the street.

He stood there for thirty seconds, his mind making connections, drawing up all sorts of actions he'd been blind to over the years. The way his 'friend' had sculpted him into being his perfect tool for getting what he wanted. He had been used, more than he had ever thought possible. He gave himself thirty seconds as he realized that everything, even the redhead from the night before, had been one big, fat lie. A mockery, he had made a mockery of him. Rodney's glare narrowed at the door before he twisted around and stomped off the porch and straight to the Dean's office. He was not going to let Greenwall get away with this!

But in the end he did, and nothing Rodney did could disprove that the thesis Greenwall had handed in was his own. He had no hardcopies of it. When they had gone to the library to check the materials he had used as references he discovered that the files had been changed. There was no record of his research at all, but there was a long record in Greenwall's file that showed all the books Rodney had poured through when writing his work. He went to his thesis advisor, the same man who advised Greenwall, only to have the professor state that the thesis was in fact Archie Greenwall's, and that he had been working on it for quite some time.

The glare Rodney leveled him with did nothing to change his statement and when the two people investigating Rodney's claim of the plagiarized thesis departed he looked at his advisor with all the disdain he could muster. He made the man literally squirm in his overstuffed chair.

"I'm sorry, Rodney. I didn't have a choice."

"What did he do, get late night pictures of you with your secretary?" He sneered, and was even more disgusted when the man had the audacity to look both ashamed and pleading.

"I can't risk my marriage Rodney, my children…" Rodney's expression didn't change, and the advisor finally turned away. "I made sure there wasn't a disciplinary hearing, but you'll have to have a completed thesis by Thursday to continue in the program..."

"You can't be serious," he snarled. Completing one of his spare theses by Thursday would be a pain-in-the-ass but he could do it. But being tossed from the program at this stage, amid rumors of intellectual theft would severely hamper his career - he could recover, but he'd spend years trying to find grant-money. And they knew that, counted on it to keep him in line. "Bastards."

He stormed out before he could take a swing at his advisor. There was nothing he could do. Greenwall had planned everything so meticulously, covered every track that Rodney could think of exploiting. They dropped the investigation, and Rodney was reprimanded for declaring false accusations but he wasn't thrown out of the school. Oh no, they wouldn't dare get rid of their prodigy, Rodney McKay.

He went home and pulled up one of his half finished thesis, one he had put on the back burner that he had been planning on finishing right after he'd handed this one in. For three solid days he did nothing but type, referencing passages necessary to back his theories from memory so he didn't have to go to the library directly. He lived on coffee, chips and chocolate and by the time the deadline came around he had finished. It was just as good, if not better than his original thesis, anger and betrayal fuelling his need to do better than Greenwall, which ultimately meant doing better than himself.

He supposed he should be grateful for the experience, at least partially. He had learned that, besides not being able to trust people he'd practically thought of as family, he actually worked really well under great academic pressure. He supposed it was better than coming out of it with nothing at all.

* * * * * * * * * *

Atlantis, Present Day

Zelenka sat across from him and ruthlessly ripped his fresh chunk of Athosian black bread into tiny, less than bite sized pieces. Carson, who was sitting next to the angry Czech, had been slowly inching away from the man as he muttered dark words under his breath and glared at the bowl of stew in front of him. John looked beside him at Teyla, who merely lifted her eyebrow in comment while she slowly ate her lunch. Figures he'd get no help from her, fat lot of good her diplomatic skills are if she always lets me do the talking, he groused to himself as he looked back at the scientist.

Sheppard had watched as Zelenka stormed into the cafeteria, making a beeline to the food and waiting impatiently as it was handed to him rather hastily. It was really quite sad how much the military seemed to fear the science contingent, but he couldn't fault his soldiers for that discretion, especially after seeing what Harkson had done to Lorne last week after the soldier made fun of him one too many times. Fortunately it had been friendly retaliation and was taken in good humour, or it could have caused problems.

Despite that, Radek was obviously not in a good mood as he had acquired his lunch, and it hadn't improved as he stormed his way over to their table and promptly dropped into the seat next to Carson. He hadn't said a single thing in English yet, but, judging by the angry muttering, it was probably a good thing. When Carson began to look at the Czech as if he were deciding how to best approach the man, Sheppard figured it was time to bite the bullet and find out what was wrong. Or, more specifically, tell everyone else what was wrong.

"What did Rodney do this time?" He asked around a mouth full of bread, ignoring the way Teyla frowned at his manners. If she wasn't going to help him, he was going to annoy her as much as possible. The scientist looked up and glared at him.

"What did he do? Nothing. That is the problem, and now I have this to deal with," he dropped his bread in disgust and rubbed at his forehead. Well, deciphering that Rodney was the cause of the man's ire was as far as Sheppard got when it came to translating that, so he said the next most intelligent thing he could think of.

"Uh huh." Radek looked at him and then frowned to himself as he thought about what he had just said, and then rubbed at his temple again.

"Ah, I am sorry. All my life I have never been so easily aggravated before I met McKay. The man is like…like," he floundered.

"Aye, he is at that lad," Carson agreed in full understanding and Sheppard wondered when it was that they had begun having conversations in half sentences.

"Is this about the investigation?" Teyla asked, pushing her empty tray away from her and leaning into the conversation.

"Yes, and the fact he did not warn me there was going to be one," he huffed in a very McKay-like fashion. It was…eerie.

"He didn't know there was going to be one," Sheppard supplied. "In fact, only Weir did, and she was under orders not to disclose this information, not even to me, until the investigators had arrived." And arrived they had.

"That is lie. He knew, at the very least he suspected all along, and he did not bother to tell me."

"I don't understand why this is a problem. If he did not truly know if there was to be an investigation then he would have been lying if he warned you," Teyla diplomatically pointed out, which seemed to deflate a little more of the Czech's anger.

"It is problem because he should tell me of such things, as his second in command of course," he added on.

"Don't worry, Radek. If it's any consolation he didn't tell anyone else of his suspicions, either. That's just typical Rodney, I'm sure he meant nothing by it," Carson tried.

"It probably slipped his mind," Sheppard added, though in truth he knew it probably hadn't, and by the look Radek gave him the other man didn't believe that either. "Or he just didn't care enough to bother telling anyone?"

"I have had two investigations since I started work for Stargate Program. Both times it was just procedure. This is different, this is directly related to his performance. I cannot see him not caring about this."

"I didn't say he didn't care, just that he didn't care enough. Let's face facts here, this is Dr. Rodney McKay we're talking about, and from what I understand he is no stranger to performance reviews."

"Yes, well, the last one that didn't go well ended up with him in Russia. He is still angry about that," Radek argued and John frowned now as well. He had known about that, but somehow he had forgotten about it.

"Well, that's not going to happen this time, regardless. There have been some tough patches, but frankly I don't think there's anything to worry about. It's pretty clear to me that he's needed where he is, and I plan to make that a well known fact."

"Perhaps it is beneficial that he is friends with Major Thompkins then, as that should work in his favour," Teyla added her own encouragement, which had them all frowning again.

"Maybe," John conceded. "Thompkins is tackling the security angle though, not the science so I'm not sure how much help he'll be."

"I wonder how he knows him, they strike me as an odd couple," Carson pondered and, at Sheppard's smirk he glared at him. "Grow up Colonel, ye know I'm speakin' of their friendship and nothing more."

"Whatever you say, Doc," he countered.

"Not so odd really," Radek spoke up. "Rodney has been in program long time now, ten years maybe? He has worked with military on many occasions, so it is likely he has acquaintances somewhere."

"Maybe," John conceded again, though that didn't stop him from wondering, especially after the explosion in the briefing room yesterday. Hell, he'd been wondering ever since Rodney's comment that Thompkins owed him a drink in the gateroom. Frankly John was a little miffed about being left out of the details, maybe a tad hurt, like Radek was about not being told of the investigation when Rodney suspected it.

Sheppard had been patient. Really patient in his opinion, something he was notorious for not being. It had been tough on Atlantis recently (when was it not these days?) but he felt that with everything going on he was due a little reward, a little insight, a little return for all of his hard work and steadfast friendship. It wasn't that he was nosey…okay, maybe he was just a little, but he would be lying if he said that this didn't bother him.

He had been Rodney's friend for almost two years now, well, a year and a half at least, and the man was still too damned cautious around him; around all of them, if he was being honest. Now, the last thing he expected or wanted was for McKay to tell him all his deep, dark secrets at once, hell no, but there were times when John sensed that McKay wanted to spill but he held himself back. He couldn't really say much though, since he had never really told the man anything about himself either. Maybe it was time he worked on changing their dynamics a bit, after all, a little honesty only solidified a friendship, right? Sheppard knew why he had such a hard time opening up about some things, but it really made him wonder what the hell had happened to make McKay so cautious.

"Don't worry Carson, I have a sure fire plan of figuring out that mystery," Sheppard informed them with a smug grin while leaning back in his seat.

"Oh, ya do eh? Well then, what is this masterful strategy you've managed to come up with?"

"I'm going to ask him."

"Who? Thompkins?"

"Yep," He grinned and Carson barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

"Right, and I'm sure he'll just open up and tell ye since Rodney's been so forthcomin' himself."

"Oh, I plan on being subtle about it," he informed Carson and then frowned at the somewhat incredulous looks he received from around the table. "What? Hey, I can be subtle," he argued and was merely rewarded with shaking heads. "I can!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Zelenka was tired. He knew he was overworking again, but he had trouble convincing his over-stimulated brain to follow his body's pleas for longer rest breaks and more wholesome meals. It was a fairly common state since coming to Atlantis, though he would admit that he took many more breaks to eat and sleep than did Rodney. When people told him to get some rest, he told himself that he was just trying to catch up to the Canadian. Besides, the notion of being anywhere other than in this room was just ludicrous! It was just… it was nirvana, or perhaps as close as he had come to it since landing in Atlantis itself.

He and Rodney had petitioned for cots to be brought into the control room so they could get even more work done, but Beckett had been worried that either he or Rodney would develop a habit of sleepwalking and fall into the icy water that lay just beyond the control room, in the submersible's docking area. It was unfair and, frankly, an annoying inconvenience.

He pushed himself to his feet, his knees protesting slightly where they had been bent awkwardly for too long, and stood over the console he had been checking. He had now replaced all of the depleted control crystals, though he still refused to tell Rodney where he had acquired the new ones and enjoyed every scowl the man graced him with, and double-checked the connectors to make sure there would be no 'boom' when they finally activated the entire control room.

There was much to discover here. Beyond this room was the place they had aptly named 'The Docks.' It was shaped like a giant dome, its ceiling completely smooth with large sections of the Ancients stained glass making it appear many shades of blue and purples. It reminded him of being under water at times, when he found himself staring up too long without blinking. Just last night…or was it this morning? No matter, he and Rodney had been putting away their tools and decided on one quick look at the water before leaving, what they hadn't expected to find was the darkened room's ceiling sparkling with tiny lights.

The Ancients had built the planets constellations into the ceiling to be viewed at night. It was beautiful, breathtaking even, and Rodney suspected that the constellations actually shifted with the planets seasons. Radek doubted the wonders the Ancients created would ever cease to amaze him.

However, that did not mean he was impressed with everything they did. At the very least they could have left instructions on how everything worked, perhaps they could have had a more organized database, and some of the things that they had created…there was just no logic or purpose behind it! They had mastered their art, but there had apparently been people of less… holistic understanding of their work among them. This alone made their jobs very difficult and, at times, dangerous. It was a wonder they hadn't had more scientific accidents yet, not that he wanted that to happen, not at all. He supposed it was a testament to how hard everybody worked, and how hard his boss worked to ensure their safety. This he had mentioned, several times, in his interview with Dr. Strat.

That man, who seemed to have a Dr. Carter fixation even worse than McKay, was fortunately off conducting some interviews in the main labs. Radek's gaze slid across his console to see Rodney…to see his buttocks waggling back and forth as he was on his hands and knees under the console to his side. He grinned at the site. Radek had held a little 'private' meeting earlier that morning with Dr. Geva and Dr. Assink, the two individuals who were scheduled to speak with Dr. Strat.

The three of them had come to the unanimous agreement that Dr. McKay needed to get some work done where the nice, investigating scientist, wasn't breathing down his neck spouting off about how 'Dr. Carter wouldn't have done things this way' and 'why exactly did he choose to react like that?' It had been two days since the interviews had begun and despite Rodney acting the way he always did, with a mixture of arrogance, superiority, and child-like enthusiasm, there was a stiffness in his step instead of his normal little bounce, much like when the Wraith had been coming to Atlantis. Radek did not like this, because he felt his friend had enough to deal with on any given day. Now, however, Rodney was still dealing with his experience under the ocean a few weeks ago and this was a bit soon for unnecessary stress.

Radek was quite upset about the entire situation. He understood that Major Thompkins was investigating the situation surrounding Greenwall, the attack on Rodney and how it had all been dealt with, and that Dr. Strat was assessing his ability to lead the scientists (and in many cases the military as well). This type of investigation was not uncommon, especially with a position as highly held as Rodney's, but what truly irritated Zelenka was that the stubborn Canadian hadn't told him to expect an investigation any time soon!

It would have been nice to be able to prepare, to plan around the investigation. Dr. Weir had been under orders not to disclose the upcoming investigation to anyone, and he was perhaps a tiny, little bit, very small amount annoyed that she hadn't let the upcoming investigation slip into a conversation. Rodney, however, had simply been trying to deal with the situation himself again. It was a bad habit with the senior staff of Atlantis, but after what happened with Greenwall and Doranda, Radek felt Rodney was still trying to figure out his place among his friends. He was still learning how to lean on them. Radek suspected he had had very little experience in that department in his life.

Well, now that Radek was aware of the investigation he was able to help Rodney out, as any good second in command would do, of course. He had already prevented Dr. Strat from finding Rodney on several occasions, and it seemed that some of the other scientists were beginning to catch on to his ploy. It probably had something to do with Rodney's face being a few shades too dark whenever Dr. Strat was around, and how his entire body seemed to tense up to almost painful straightness. It was not good for the scientists to have a stressed out leader and, for their own reasons, they were beginning to work to prevent that.

It hadn't escaped his notice, however, that some of the scientists were more than happy to bad mouth McKay to the Doctor when they could. That was fine, it was their personal opinions and they had a right to say how they truly felt. Radek had some very nice projects lined up for these individuals once the investigation was over, very nice indeed. At times like this, he understood why it was that Rodney enjoyed making the lives of some people miserable; it was an excellent form of self-therapy.

The most amusing thing about this investigation, or perhaps the only thing amusing about it, was that Rodney was completely oblivious to how his people were rallying around him. Radek was positive the Canadian would begin to notice soon, but for now it was very funny to see how baffled he was by people's actions.

Yesterday Radek had witnessed Dr. Brown run up the corridor, grab the startled scientist by the arm and literally drag him into the storage closet claiming that there was the most amazing thing in there that he just had to see. A moment later Dr. Strat had walked around the corner, smiling politely and asking if Radek had seen McKay, which of course he denied. Not five seconds after the man had entered the transportation closet had Rodney hastily backed out of the closet, followed by Dr. Brown, who was glancing up and down the hall. She smiled when Radek waved at her.

Rodney had been politely telling her that while the fungi that could grow around the nozzles on the cleaning supply bottles was probably just as fascinating as she claimed, he had other things to do and couldn't discus it at that moment. She had smiled and told him she'd just wanted him to see it before going back to her lab around the next corner. Rodney had decided he should check with Beckett to see if any of his scientists were on medications that could alter their normal states, Radek thought he called them 'stupid pills,' but as the comment had been muttered he hadn't heard it all.

It was only a matter of time before the scientific genius allowed his social awareness to activate and prove to him that something was going on. It was fun to watch, much like watching the said Canadian shuffle backwards out from under his console before throwing an arm up to grip at its edge and help him off the floor. When McKay turned around to look at Radek he frowned, probably because of the way Radek was grinning at him.

"What? Am I missing out on something?"

"You could say that," Radek answered smugly and was satisfied when Rodney glared at him and opened his mouth to complain when Radek continued, "You have some connector fluid on cheek, it compliments your eyes very nicely."

"What? Really?" He wiped at his cheek with his jacket sleeve and then glared at the blue gel that now marred his uniform. "Thanks," he called before turning back to his station, bouncing back and forth on his heels. The man could never stay still.

"Dr. Harkson?" Rodney looked at the doctor who was just rising from underneath his console as well, wiping his hands on his pants.

"I'm all set, Dr. McKay," he announced professionally. Rodney looked at Dr. Kusanagi and Dr. Keagan, who was straightening his shirt to make sure it matched the rest of his perfect appearance. They both nodded confirmation at Rodney who then looked at Radek and smiled. His eyes sparkled with excitement and the energy carried around the room and everyone but Keagan grinned in response.

This is what they lived for, what they worked so hard for. The thrill of discovery coursed through Radek's blood and he forced himself not to bounce in place as he returned his friend's happy grin. They had spent hours over the last few days speculating on the purpose of this control room and they had come to some very outrageous conclusions based on the data they had been able to acquire from the working systems. Yes, they were outrageous conclusions, but they usually were, and much more often than not McKay's crazy conclusions were correct. If this station turned out to be what they thought it was, then they were going to be very, very happy people. He could barely contain his excitement.

"Dr. Weir, come in please."

"Go ahead, Dr. McKay."

"We have finished the repairs on the final systems and everything is ready to be activated. With your permission I'd like to proceed."

"John?"

"The safety team is in position. While I trust that nothing here is going to explode any time soon," the Colonel announced through the radio, his smirk audible, "we do have a team standing by, just in case."

"You have permission to proceed. Good luck."

"Thank you," Rodney practically sang into the mike, "but we don't need luck. Stand by for activation." This particular control room didn't activate by the presence of a gene carrier or their mental commands, instead Radek placed his hand on the scanner designed to emulate the ATA gene at the top of his station. He watched as Rodney did the same and then Dr. Harkson followed suit. The reaction was almost instantaneous, along with the delighted smiles on everybody's faces even as they immediately began checking their readings.

Radek's hands flew over his station, his eyes travelling rapidly back and forth as he read all the pertinent data and began calling up the information he wanted. He heard McKay informing Dr. Weir that everything was running smoothly before cutting her off so that he could focus on his work. The other scientists in the room were scanning their stations, checking the readings, but at a more casual pace than Atlantis's top two minds. If they noticed the almost frantic way he and Rodney were examining their systems they did not comment and Radek did not care. He was on a mission to find the station that Rodney was certain this room was connected to. They had made a bet only an hour before on which of them would be able to find the information first once the system was up and Radek was not going to lose this one!

"A Ha!" Rodney suddenly yelled in joy from his place only three meters from him. Radek threw his hands up in frustration and looked at McKay, who was broadcasting one of his smuggest looks as he pointed blatantly at Zelenka. Radek glared at him. "You, my cunning, speed impaired friend, have to get me coffee whenever I ask for a week!" He clapped his hands together in his joy. The Canadian was positively beaming his happiness; it was disgusting and unbecoming of a man of his status.

"Yes, yes, I will tell you how brilliant you are after you show me what you found," he all but growled; never had he lost bets such as these before he had begun working with McKay. It could be…aggravating at times, whether they were friends or not.

"Oh, right," McKay turned back to his station and then, after frowning for a moment, reached out and activated something. The centre of the room, a large circular space orbited by the many consoles, flashed a bold beam of light that forced him to blink spots out of his eyes before properly focusing on the area. What he saw had Radek staring in glee, until he noticed that his mouth had fallen open and he snapped it shut, hoping no one had noticed. He looked over at Rodney who was staring at the large holographic image that appeared to be floating a few feet off the floor with a glazed, hungry look on his face before turning his vividly blue eyes to look at Radek in victory. They shared a smile and looked back at the structural apparition before them.

This is why they were scientists.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rodney was tired, hungry, in dire need of a strong cup of hot, black coffee and barely able to sit still in his chair as the rest of the department heads arrived for this impromptu meeting. Zelenka sat next to him, tapping away on Rodney's laptop, which the man had snatched away right from under his fingertips and was the reason Rodney was so edgy in his seat right now; he hated not having anything to focus his attention on, especially when he was excited. He glared again at Zelenka just to make sure the man knew how irritated he was by the Czech's theft, but he made no effort to steal his computer back from the man, nor did he fall back on his first natural instincts and insult him into the next millennium. Oh no, instead he mustered up a considerable amount of self restraint and let his friend have his way since he seemed to be doing something important. Rodney wondered if Radek knew what his lack of retribution was costing him right now, and if he did, he had damn well better appreciate it! Rodney did not restrain himself for just anyone.

Noticing that Zelenka, caught up in his little world of data input, was completely oblivious to his heated glares he turned his gaze to focus on the few people who had already gathered in the room. Sitting directly across from him was Carson, and naturally his gaze drifted to the tiny bandaids that were smattered across the back of his pale hand and frowned. Carson noticed the look and his eyes narrowed dangerously, silently daring Rodney to say anything as he gently rubbed a finger over one of the plasters. Honestly, it was just a few measly scratches and frankly it was Carson's own fault that they were there in the first place. Rodney had warned the Scotsman that his cats were in a feisty mood and, if he stuck his hand in to rub the cat's belly, retaliation was inevitable. Rodney grinned to himself as he remembered the incident from two nights ago and Carson looked even more annoyed as he glared at Rodney with a look that promised large needles in his near future.

He lost his grin quickly and looked over to Dr. Weir who appeared to be engrossed in a report on her own computer as she waited, a completely neutral look on her face. He highly doubted that she was as interested in what she was reading as she appeared to be and he was fairly positive she was paying more attention to the atmosphere in the room than anything else. When he looked to her left to see Dr. Strat calmly sipping his coffee he understood why she might be trying so hard to look as though she were busy so as to avoid conversation. Rodney's eyes focused on the non-descript metal coffee mug as it was placed back on the table and sighed to himself. What he wouldn't give for a cup of coffee right now, but he had been so intent on getting started that he had completely forgotten to stop by the cafeteria on his way to the meeting. It was a rarity that he would forget about such a valuable commodity, but it happened. Damn it.

Disgruntled now he looked at Major Thompkins to see the faint traces of a grin on his dark face as he had watched Rodney stare at Strat's beverage, and then he picked up his own drink and pointedly took a sip. Ohhh, history or not that man was going to suffer for that, make no mistake. Rodney folded his arms across his chest, crinkling his blue shirt, and raised an unimpressed eyebrow before turning back to contemplate Dr. Strat some more. If these two were going to be here Rodney would have liked to insist that Ronon and Teyla be present as well, even if this wasn't a team briefing, but he refrained from commenting for fear that he might come across sounding…whiney.

Not that he would sound whiney, after all he was a genius so everything he said basically came out sounding intelligent regardless of what it was. Well, almost everything, because he really couldn't lie to himself about a few of those bad days in the past where…but that was water under the bridge. Or at least he hoped it was as he looked at the brown haired doctor across from him, calmly sipping at his drink.

He knew that Strat had been interviewing expedition members left, right and centre since he'd arrived, using their words to help sculpt his opinion of Rodney's leadership ability, and he wondered what kind of questions the man asked. He bet they were leading questions; probably focused on making him look bad.

Distractedly Rodney picked up the pen that he had put down on the table only moments before and began twirling it around in his hand as he stared at the doctor. He wondered what his staff was saying about him, and then annoyance bubbled up in his stomach at the stupid thought. Why even worry about that? It's not like he'd wasted any time worrying about this investigation while he was waiting for it to arrive. He'd been in these situations before, frankly it was pretty normal for him, or had been whenever he'd held a command position back on earth. He had a tendency to rub people the wrong way at times and the complaints usually led to an inspection of his work ethics and leadership skills. So far he had passed them all and he sure as hell hadn't made any effort to change the way he worked for them.

He was a busy man, he didn't have the time or the inclination to sugar coat how he treated people just because he was being watched. It was a waste of energy and, if his reputation preceded him (as he knew it had), there was no point changing his behaviour since the investigators were expecting him to act a certain way. However, just because he didn't prepare for these things didn't mean he wasn't a tiny bit worried about their outcome. After all, he had landed some rather unpleasant details in the past because people with authority over him had become too annoyed with his attitude. Russia struck a particular cord there but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind.

He glanced at Zelenka again, who was still working away on Rodney's laptop…just what was the guy doing? McKay leaned over to take a look and Zelenka very discretely turned the machine so Rodney couldn't see unless he was practically leaning in his lap. Rodney glared at him again but sat back without a word. He was not sulking.

Sometimes he just didn't understand Zelenka, or most of his friends here for that matter. Seriously, why couldn't everything just be straightforward and simple? He sometimes felt he spent more time trying to understand his friends' actions and what they meant by them than sleeping, which frankly was just not right.

He had thought things were better between them since the accident with the puddle jumper, but now Radek was mad at him again. It had taken him a week and a half to get the Czech to believe that he didn't blame him for the accident, even though that would have made his own ability to cope so much easier. But oh no, Zelenka, who was in charge of all jumper repairs, had decided that he was entirely to blame for the accident that had cost the life of a good man and nearly cost Rodney his life as well. There had been a lot of lessons learned that day, but overall the fault did not lie with Radek alone. There were just too many variables to pin-point an origin of blame; the jumper had been in horrendous shape when Radek had gone about fixing it; the ancients hadn't left any "Idiots Guide to Basic Mechanics for Puddlejumpers" books around for their reading pleasure; malfunctions happened; accidents happened; tragedy happened. They learned and they moved on and did their best to make sure it didn't happen again.

He wished like hell it had never happened, but he wished that a lot of things had never happened and it had taken a while for Radek to accept this was sometimes how things worked out. After that things had become easier between Rodney and Radek again, but now the crazy Czech was angry at him again simply because he didn't tell him to expect an investigation. It made no sense! It wasn't as if Radek was the one being investigated, so it really shouldn't have made a difference whether he knew or not. And Rodney had told him this, but it had only made the scientist more annoyed and Radek had stormed off for some food, muttering darkly in Czech and successfully ending the conversation. They hadn't spoken about it since and, while they were back to what Rodney considered their normal camaraderie, his friend still had moments where he openly displayed his displeasure. Hence the stolen, and then hidden, laptop.

Rodney had been exercising more restraint with Radek since his very public insults during Doranda but he wasn't sure it was having the desired effect, because Radek seemed to be using that knowledge against him.

"Rodney."

Seriously, he could be super nice for only so long and he was beginning to reach his limit.

"Rodney."

He had his own problems to deal with, such as whether or not he would be considered fit for his station here in Atlantis. One thing was certain, he hadn't left when Greenwall had shown up and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave Atlantis if some underdeveloped, paper pushing governmental lackey who had no true concept of the situation out here was going to strip him of his title. No way…

"Rodney!" He jerked at the aggravated hiss and looked at Zelenka, who was glaring through his glasses with a highly annoyed air.

"What?"

"Will you please desist?" Rodney frowned.

"Actually no, I have a lot of trouble when it comes to stopping my mind from thinking and I hardly think that…"

"With the pen. Please, you will drive me to insanity and then who will be around to help you when you fall into grave trouble and need intelligent scientist to save you, hmmm?" Rodney looked down at the pen in his hand, the pen he had been flipping between his fingers and clicking on and off incessantly as he'd mused.

"Kavanagh's still around, isn't he?"

He noticed Weir was trying to hide a smile and that Beckett didn't even bother trying as his pearly whites were flashed around the room, his thumb still rubbing over his Band-Aids. There was something wrong with that man, he was certain of it.

Despite the barb Rodney quickly put the pen down and Radek sighed in relief. Rodney had always had trouble sitting still, ever since he was a child. It had driven his parents insane…and his teachers and classmates. Radek quickly reached over and snatched the utensil up and Rodney, in retribution, pulled his computer back in front of himself. Radek rolled his eyes but grinned, and Rodney returned a smirk, until he looked at the computer screen to see that a game of solitaire was in progress. Radek had stolen his computer for this! Oh, he was through playing nice and he opened his mouth to berate the man when a voice, most decidedly not his own, startled him from behind.

"It's comforting to see you working so hard to keep us safe, McKay," Sheppard announced and again Rodney was opening his mouth to retort when suddenly the Colonel's arm snuck around him and a mug was deposited in front of him, filled with what he personally considered the elixir of life. Rodney already had it to his lips while Sheppard deposited one in front of Zelenka before taking his seat to Rodney's left.

"Oh, I knew there was a reason I kept saving your life," he muttered and Sheppard merely smirked, and leaned back in his chair.

"So," he said causally, his hair doing nothing to give him the appearance of being the leader of the defence of their entire population, "news on the grapevine says you two were working into the wee hours of the morning in the control room. I guess this meeting means you found something of interest?"

"That would be an understatement, Colonel," Rodney replied, not bothering for Dr. Weir to officially begin the meeting as everyone was finally here, but looking to her for permission to continue. At her nod he began bouncing in his seat, and then forcibly controlled himself.

"As you know we've been working to repair the main control room for the submersible bay and that last night we successfully completed that task," he didn't bother waiting for their nods of agreement as he continued. "Now, with the aid of this control room we've been able to locate a few functioning submersibles within the bay itself that seem to be working safely on all levels. But," he paused for effect and ignored Sheppard's quiet snort beside him, "we've also found something much, much more interesting. In fact, I've suspected its existence for some time now but we hadn't been able to garner any useful information from the database."

"What exactly did you find?" He could tell he had peaked Weir's interest. Good, that was very good. He looked at Zelenka.

"Dr. Zelenka, if you could please pull up the visual," he requested and no sooner had he spoken than the image appeared on the large screen at the head of the table drawing everybody's attention like moths to a flame, or wraiths to a human colony depending on the analogy one preferred to use. "This," he gestured though nobody was looking at him, "is what we've been searching for." He dropped his left hand to rest behind his back and rubbed the fingers on his right hand together in an effort to not start bouncing on his feet.

"Wow, now that looks cool," Sheppard exclaimed and Rodney found himself rolling his eyes. Everything was cool to Sheppard. "So, what is it, exactly?" What? What did he mean what is it? How could he not know? Wasn't it obvious?

"We haven't come up with proper title for it yet," Zelenka responded, "but it can be best described as a habitable, submersible, amphibious, long-term science station designed to traverse the currents of entire water mass of this planet."

"In other words," McKay interjected, unable to curb his enthusiasm, "this is the reason we suspect Atlantis was situated on this planet in the first place."

"Huh," John commented, leaning back in his seat even further, a thoughtful look on his face and a slight tilt to his head that told Rodney exactly how interested the soldier was with this discovery. Excited, that was the best way to describe him and frankly, right now, McKay couldn't think of a better emotion to exhibit; without further ado he and Radek launched into their presentation.

* * * * * * * * *

John watched as Rodney and Zelenka, now both standing at the far end of the room, took turns describing the science station they had discovered. Or they at least appeared to be taking turns as they performed a verbal tug of war for the right to speak while their hands waved around in almost synchronized patterns. Sheppard, while intent on what they were actually saying, couldn't help but take a moment to bask in the excitement they brought to the room. After everything that had happened since arriving in Atlantis, it was a relief to know that some things never changed. Looking at the gleam in Rodney's eyes now, and the way Zelenka happily allowed himself to be pushed aside in the explanation process for a few moments before ruthlessly cutting back in was comforting. It was strange how he had come to rely on certain constants to let him know that everything was still right in their world.

Rodney still being excited about new discoveries…that was something he never wanted to lose, because when that happened he figured they were all in deep shit.

The last few weeks had been difficult, as they had been forced to deal with Rodney's recovery and to the loss of one more good man. The eleven hours they had spent locked inside the puddle jumper on Atlantis while they waited for his body to properly depressurize had been something Sheppard never wanted to experience again. Rodney, whose gaze had been glassy, had wavered in the lucidity department at times while he had been stripped of wet clothing and then bundled into dry clothing with as many blankets wrapped around him as possible. He had sat shivering; he had been quiet.

John wasn't sure what his friend had been thinking most of his time while he shut himself off, but he knew it hadn't been anything good. After he had recovered and been released from the infirmary he had fallen right back into his fun-loving, 'I will decimate you with mere words and a look if you so much as think a stupid thought in my direction' attitude. While Sheppard had been glad for that, he knew everything wasn't all right in his friend's world.

Sheppard looked away from his scientist as he explained how the underwater science station was designed to be submerged for years at a time so it could properly follow the natural patterns of the water currents. His gaze fell on Dr. Strat, who was staring at the scientists with a slightly glazed look as he listened to what they were saying. Investigator or not, John could tell the man loved science as much as the next geek in this place, which should help since he was supposed to actually investigate Rodney's competence as a scientist as well as a leader.

What did Sheppard think of the man? Well, he couldn't say yet. He was trying very hard not to hold a grudge since the guy was just doing his job, but that didn't stop the irritation that leaked into his feelings about the entire situation. As far as he was concerned, Rodney was meant to be the leader of the science division. Frankly he was good at the job, not that Sheppard had a lot to compare to, but it was just with the way he handled everything from the science to the people. McKay wasn't always ideal, but who really was? They were only human, and Sheppard had long ago admitted to himself that he needed to remember that with McKay, because he often forgot that when the man continued to pull miracles from his…mind.

Anyway, the point was that McKay was right where he needed to be and he didn't need this damn investigation while he was still partially recovering from his near death the month before. But, as they say, shit happened and they would continue to deal with it as it piled up. He hadn't yet spoken much to Strat outside of meetings, which was why he was still reserving judgement on the man himself.

Looking at Thompkins however, had him a little more on edge with his emotions. The solidly built African-American was watching McKay intently at the moment, something that Sheppard had noticed he did an awful lot when they were in the same vicinity. He wasn't sure what to make of it and he couldn't get a grasp on what the soldier might be thinking as he studied McKay. One thing he did notice, however, was how the man's body language shifted from normal alert mode to a higher level of alert whenever he could see McKay. At least he had whenever John had been in the same room with them. What he wanted to know was…well, a lot of things actually.

He understood that there were some problems back on Earth in regards to the legal proceeding of Greenwall's crimes on Atlantis. It had something to do with Cadross not being considered a reliable witness and the evidence that they had produced possibly not being substantial enough. Not substantial enough his ass! If someone like Greenwall had even hinted at wanting to take a shot at Dr. Carter or Dr. Jackson he would have been chained, gagged, and thrown into the deepest pit of hell O'Neill could possibly find and no one would have blinked an eye. Why this was turning so difficult he didn't know, but he suspected it had a lot to do with Greenball's sharp tongue.

He had been only too happy to help Thompkins collect more evidence against Greenwall, but Sheppard also had this almost burning desire to know more about this connection between Rodney and Thompkins, and so far none of his questions had paid off. Thompkins was proving to be even more close-mouthed than Rodney was on the subject, but he had assured him that the details would be available once Strat produced the declassified folder. Was he being nosey? Hell yes! Frankly, as the leader of the military contingent on Atlantis and responsible for the safety of every individual in the city he believed he needed to know such things. The fact that Rodney didn't think he needed to know, well, that just made him want to know even more, though it was less for security reasons than because of their friendship.

Rodney was his friend. HIS friend, damn it! And there was one hell of a lot he didn't know about the guy. John didn't have a lot of people he considered close to him. Friendly acquaintances he had in abundance, but real honest to god friends? He could count them on one hand and Rodney was number one. The fact that McKay and Thompkins had a connection that he didn't know anything about, that appeared to be fairly deep judging by McKay's refusal to talk about it, made him feel… left out. He was definitely not jealous. Not a chance. At least not yet as the two men had pretty much not spoken beyond a professional capacity since the two investigators had arrived. He would reserve his possessiveness for a time when more information was forth coming.

Back to the main issue though. John studied Thompkins as the soldier studied McKay, and maybe Zelenka too for that matter. What was it about the man that was bothering Sheppard? He'd assigned Ronon to keep an eye on him since his second day in Atlantis. The runner had reported that he'd done a few interviews with some scientists and soldiers alike, and a lot of reading. Dex had said that he'd been interested in what looked like personnel files and accident reports, particularly ones that circled around McKay, since the time Greenwall had been around. Ronon had listed off the report of Greenwall's murder attempt; an accident several months before where McKay had been trapped and dematerialized in the Atlantian transporters for an hour before Zelenka had fixed the possible disaster and rematerialized him; and, more recently, the puddle jumper accident which led to him nearly drowning. Then Ronon had clocked him a good one upside the head as he processed this information in the middle of their sparring practice. They had mutually agreed to end the session then before Sheppard's lack of concentration got him killed.

One thing was certain, Ronon's hawk-like eyesight and stealth tactics were coming in all kinds of useful outside of missions. He should probably focus on the meeting now, though. Carson was leaning forward in his seat now, and he seemed rather excited about something.

"Are ye sure, Rodney? Because if ye're right about this…"

"Yes, yes, yes, if I'm right about this we may have discovered the reason why the ancients are able to communicate with their technology via the ATA gene," he waved his hands in the air and grinned like, well, like he did when he was having a really good day. The energy he was trying to contain was showing as he bounced on his toes a few times and bobbed his head around smugly, until he realized what he was doing and obviously forced himself to stop. But wait a second, did he just say he thought they might have found the key to the link between the ATA gene and the ancient technology? Why the hell hadn't he been paying full attention to what they were saying!

"That's…that's incredible Rodney," Carson sighed, a grin beginning to pull at his own lips as he leaned forward in his chair, eyes alight with interest.

"Yes, it is, but don't get your hopes up yet because we're really only just scratching the surface with our research so far and there's always the possibility that we won't find anything," Rodney cautioned, though he was still bouncing.

"We know, from the minimal amount of data and research we have managed so far that the ATA gene reacts to the technology on not only a physical level but on a mental level as well," Radek explained, pushing his glasses quickly back up his nose and then pointing at the image on the screen before them all. "As Dr. Beckett has explained to us, the gene produces a series of proteins and enzymes that interact with the carrier's skin, nervous system and brain, but what none of us has figured out is exactly how."

"We've speculated for some time now that there must be something very specific within the technology, more specifically the alloys used in all of the ancients creations, which allow for this "communication," if you will." Rodney pointed at an image of a chain of amino acids that had appeared on the screen.

"None of our tests have shown anything abnormal about the metals, at least not abnormal for the Pegasus galaxy, but we have not been sure of what to look for. None of Dr. Beckett's teams have been able to find a connection between the gene and the composition of the metal either."

"But that doesn't mean it's not there, just that it's somehow obscured enough to avoid detection no matter what we try," Beckett informed them.

"Then how do you know it's there?" Dr. Strat asked and Rodney, too excited to be overly annoyed by the question merely waved it off.

"I just do. Now, we determined right off the bat that Ancient technology must have some form of biological components that are capable of recognizing the proteins in our skin. Also, it must have some form of electrical sensors that are capable of detecting changes in brain activity."

"This would explain how some people have a stronger affinity for the technology. For example, Colonel Sheppard's brain activity may change more or the active sections are more easily detected than others with the ATA gene, which is why he has a stronger connection than everyone else," Beckett added and John sat straighter in his seat as several pairs of eyes turned to look at him. Thankfully Rodney felt that he was more worthy of the attention and drew it back to himself.

"We've tried experimenting with alloys to try and replicate this organic component but our efforts have so far proven…" he paused, trying to find the right word.

"Disastrous," Zelenka helpfully supplied.

"I was going to say less than fruitful, but disastrous works. We just cannot find a way to replicate whatever it is that allows a carrier to link to the technology."

"But you have now?" Weir asked, her eyes clearly just as excited as the scientists. It was a good look on her Sheppard mused, it was less…stressed out.

"No," Rodney snapped his fingers and suddenly the image of the strange looking space station appeared again, this time rotating on the screen to give a full view. "But we think this station will be able to tell us something about it."

"We believe the Ancients originally came to this planet to study simply for curiosities sake. Obviously they had already known how to create their technology and gene at the time," Zelenka started.

"But when they were here they obviously discovered something that made building Atlantis at this location possible."

"Obviously," Sheppard confirmed and Rodney grinned at him. John looked at Thompkins pointedly. Ha, he doesn't smile at you like that!

"The composition of the alloy used in the ancient technology can be varied to slightly alter the properties that we are familiar with, such as strength, flexibility, heat resistance and conductivity."

"We believe," Zelenka brought his hands together and looked as though he were praying as he gently waved them up and down to make his point, "that the alloy contains natural components we have not yet detected which react to the gene on both a physical and mental level. As we have never seen anything like this on Earth we do not have way of detecting whatever small amount of organic mineral compound, or perhaps even crystal compound, is in the alloy. In essence, it could be used to create a sensor that detects changes in brain activity, such as Colonel Sheppard's, to such fine degree that it allows for thought control of ancient devices."

"They found telepathic steel?" Sheppard asked, simply because it had to be said. Zelenka looked at him and blinked.

"Well, yes, in essence."

"The problem is that we have no way of figuring out how or why the alloys react like this. According to the new information we've found, the actual telepathic steel," Rodney completely ignored Sheppard's wide grin as he used his phrase, "is extremely rare and very, very, very difficult to find. I think they blended it with their abundant alloy to create what they needed for their technology."

"We believe the science station we discovered found a large deposit of such a component, and that it will have more information on what it truly is."

"If we can figure this out, we might be able to create our own technology and this could go a loooong way in helping us learn about the ancient tech already in existence, not to mention repairing it." Then Rodney looked right at Sheppard, his face practically splitting in half in glee. "We could make our own ships." Sheppard thought instantly of the basic designs Rodney had been working on as one of his many pet projects and looked directly at Weir.

"Well, when do we head out?" Judging by the smile on her face it wouldn't be soon enough.

* * * * * * * * * *