Chapter 3

McKay's voice came back immediately. "Where the hell are you?"

"Dunno…. Hallway…. Help…me…. Can't…breathe..."

"Stay where you are, Colonel. Don't move. Do you hear me, Sheppard? Sheppard!"

"Hear…you…McKay. Can't…move…anyway."

"Talk to me, John."

"'Liz..beth?"

"Yes, John. Rodney and Radek are still trying to locate you on the sensors. We've been attempting to find you for half an hour. Tell me what's wrong."

"Can't…move…. Hard…to…breathe….S..s..sick." John leaned to his right as he began to retch again. He could barely hold his head up, and his legs were spasming now. Tears poured from eyes that burned and itched.

"Hang on, John. Help is coming. Rodney?"

"Just a…. Got him! Dr. Keller, this is McKay. Sheppard is on D level Section Twelve, near the East Pier entrance."

"On our way."

Elizabeth's soothing voice came back on. "Dr. Keller and a med team are on the way, John. John? Are you still there?"

"Still…here…."

"Stay with me, Colonel. How are you feeling?"

"Worse…than…when that…damn bug…was attached to… me…. Can't…control my…arms, legs… getting…harder…to breathe…. Head, chest…hurt…muscle…spasms…eyes…. What's …wrong…with me?"

"Rodney thinks it might be the chemical you were exposed to. Lt. Spellman returned a few minutes ago with a sample of it and a possible treatment. You know to go to the infirmary as soon as you return. Why didn't you?"

"Don't…remem…."

"John? John? Answer me!"

John felt unconsciousness hunting him. He fought its clutches as long as he could but lost. Darkness claimed him, and he slumped to the floor.

OoOoOoOoO

When Keller rounded the corner, she found the Air Force colonel unconscious and convulsing.

"Roll him on his side. Make sure his airway is open."

Two nurses ran to do her bidding as she grabbed the supplies she needed.

"Try to hold him still for a second."

An orderly braced John's back and straightened an arm. Keller quickly injected the diazepam. After a moment, the convulsions stopped.

"Let's get him on the gurney. On my count. One. Two. Three!"

The med team lifted Sheppard onto the gurney and sped through the corridors to the infirmary.

OoOoOoOoO

Weir and McKay arrived in the med area to find the medical staff frantically working on Sheppard. His shirt had been cut open and leads attached to his chest. The cardiac monitor showed a wildly fluctuating heartbeat while the ventilator breathed for him. IVs had been inserted in both arms, and muscle tremors racked his body as sweat dripped from him.

"At least Ronon was already stabilized when we injected him with the treatment. I have no idea how Colonel Sheppard will react. But nothing else is working. I don't think we have a choice, Jennifer."

"I agree, Carson. Ronon did respond to it. Perhaps Colonel Sheppard will as well. If we don't do something soon…."

"Mary, bring me a syringe of the Gralan remedy. I also need-"

The cardiac monitor shouted an alarm and then flatlined.

"Oh no you don't! Get the crash cart. Charge to two hundred."

The staff scurried to do Beckett's bidding while Keller performed chest compressions. Carson lubricated the paddles, rubbed them together and checked the readout. "Clear!"

Hands jerked away as the paddles connected with Sheppard's chest and his body arced in response. Nothing.

"Charge to three hundred."

The machine whined as the charge built.

"Clear!"

The pilot's body convulsed again as the electricity shot through it. This time a blip and then another showed on the monitor. The infirmary itself seemed to hold its breath as Sheppard's heart found its rhythm.

"Come on, Colonel. I know you have it in you, lad. Hang in there."

After a minute, the relief in the room was palpable. They had him back.

Rodney watched as Beckett injected a dose of the treatment into John's IV. McKay didn't realize he was holding his breath until spots began dancing before his eyes. He exhaled noisily and turned to see Elizabeth staring at her shoes, shoulders slumped. He knew exactly how she felt. They'd almost lost him. Again.

He found Teyla standing at his elbow. After they had come through the gate, she had followed Ronon to the infirmary. Rodney had been so shocked by Sheppard's exit that he'd hesitated, just for a moment. By the time he'd gotten to the hallway, the pilot was gone. McKay called him on the radio and had Zelenka try to detect him on the sensors. So many people were moving about that he was impossible to pin down. The two scientists began fine-tuning the sensors to locate his subcutaneous transmitter, but it took a bit of time. They had almost finished when Sheppard called for help.

McKay fell into a chair and rubbed his temples with the heel of his palms, closing his eyes to listen as the machines tracked Sheppard's heartbeat and breathed for him. The sounds from the medical personnel gradually decreased from panicked to anxious. Footsteps slowed, and orders quieted. The treatment must be helping. He felt movement and glanced up as Elizabeth and Teyla sat next to him.

"How's Ronon?"

Teyla shook her head. "He is not good, but he is improving. The Gralan medicine seems to be helping him. His convulsions ended several minutes ago, and his breathing has eased."

Weir looked pissed. "How the hell did this happen?"

Teyla looked as bewildered as Rodney felt. "I am unsure, Elizabeth. In all of the times I visited Grala as a child, nothing like this ever happened."

McKay shifted in his seat and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All I know is they were standing in the fields during a farm tour when some kind of pesticide began spraying. It was an accident according to everything I've heard, but the stuff is poisonous. Sheppard said he thought he'd ingested some of it."

He bounced up and paced as he continued. "Ronon had an allergic reaction so we began treating him immediately. I knew something was wrong with Sheppard, but he was so focused on helping Ronon that I couldn't get a straight answer from him, the stubborn son of a bitch."

"Rodney, calm down. I take it someone is analyzing the sample Lt. Spellman brought back."

"Yes. Beckett has one of his people running tests on it with one of my top chemists, Dr. Geranto. Hopefully we'll find something useful."

Elizabeth stood as Carson came their way. "Well?"

"He's improved slightly, but not nearly as much as I'd hoped. His cardiovascular and respiratory systems are under an immense strain. The ventilator is keeping him alive for now."

"That's the best your voodoo can do? It's only been two hours since it happened! How can he have deteriorated so far in such a short amount of time?"

"From what I gathered from the two Marines who brought back the samples, the pesticide is highly toxic. Treatment is to be administered within an hour for any hope of recovery. I believe the epinephrine Ronon received is what made the difference for him."

"Why didn't someone mention a treatment while we were there?"

Beckett grimaced. "Don't we typically tout our advanced medicine during negotiations? Lt. Spellman said they were quite surprised when he asked if they had a remedy. Apparently it never occurred to the Gralans that we would need it."

"Carson, what are John's chances?"

"I can't even hazard a guess right now, Elizabeth. We are treating his symptoms, but we don't know how to purge the toxin from his system. It may have to metabolize which means some long days ahead for us all. The treatment did help a bit. The convulsions and muscle tremors have diminished. But, as you can hear, his heartbeat is still a bit irregular, and he can't breathe on his own."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"No, Rodney, not right now. Let us tend to him. You and Teyla need your regular post mission checks, and I need an extra blood sample from you both."

"Why?"

"You ate the food on that planet, Rodney. I want to make sure the melrodin, or whatever it's called, isn't in your system too."

OoOoOoOoO

Footsteps signaled Carson's return. Elizabeth, Rodney and Teyla immediately stood at the grim look on his face.

"Am I dying?"

Beckett rolled his eyes. "No, Rodney, you aren't dying. In fact, your blood shows no sign of the toxin at all. Neither does yours, Teyla. The Gralans must have some way of completely removing the melrodin from the food."

"Then why the long face, Carson?"

"Preliminary analysis on the sample has come back. Its chemical composition is similar to a pesticide used on Earth called pentachlorophenol."

"Do we have a remedy for that?"

"There is no remedy for it, Elizabeth, and even if there were, we have no guarantee it would work. It is similar but not the same. He does show classic signs of PCP poisoning though - sweating, muscle spasms, nausea, convulsions, mental confusion. We'll treat his symptoms, help him as much as we can by keeping him hydrated and monitoring his fever and heart. We have a few drugs that may counteract some of the effects…."

"That's it?"

"Yes, Rodney, that's it. Sometimes there is no miracle cure. We'll give it everything we've got, but only time will tell with this. If his body can process the toxin, he'll live. If not…."

"I see. Can we stay?"

"Yes, although I would prefer one at a time. I do have a limited amount of space here, you know. Oh, and Elizabeth, I'd also like to send a team back to Grala. Perhaps if we can study the manufacturing process of that remedy or the cleansing process of the food, we'll be able to develop something of our own."

"Done. Let me know what you need."

"I would like Dr. Geranto to go, if that's all right with you, Rodney. He was invaluable in the analysis."

"Yes, of course, Carson. I'll notify him immediately."

McKay stepped away to radio Geranto, and Beckett turned to recheck Sheppard. Teyla and Elizabeth shared a look. Now all they could do was wait.

OoOoOoOoO

Two days later, the scientists and doctors reported to the conference room to present their findings to Dr. Weir and the senior staff.

Dr. Geranto cleared his throat and began. "The Gralans aren't going to be able to help."

"Why won't they help?"

"Not won't, Dr. McKay. Can't. They didn't develop the melrodin or the crimlox."

"What the hell is crimlox, Geranto?"

"Crimlox is the treatment for melrodin exposure. Let me start from the beginning. The Gralans are an agrarian society as we know. They have never advanced very far technologically, most likely due to frequent Wraith cullings. Many other worlds have depended on Grala for food over the years since the climate is ideal for farming. According to some historical documents Dr. Wheelan discovered, the demand far exceeded the supply. Then, a new world came calling, only this world was much more advanced than Grala or any of their trading partners."

"Sateda," McKay supplied.

"Yes. They entered into an agreement with the Gralans to provide technology and science to increase the crop yield in exchange for first choice of the harvest. Everyone got what they wanted – the Satedans got the best produce, and the Gralans got technology and the ability to cultivate enough to meet the demands of the other worlds."

"Such as Athos."

"Exactly, Ms. Emmagan. Dr. Brown is still conducting experiments, but her initial analysis shows the melrodin is both a pesticide and a hormone. It protects the plants while increasing size, quality and quantity. Basically their crops are genetically enhanced. The problem is the Gralans don't have an understanding of how the technology works. They have crimlox and melrodin but nothing like penicillin. They can manufacture harvesting machines, but they can't adapt that information into creating personal vehicles. Their total focus is on agriculture, and they seem to have no interest in changing."

"Did you find any information on the development or design of the chemicals?" Weir asked.

"No. The Satedan scientists and engineers helped them develop manufacturing facilities for the harvesters and the melrodin disbursal system and provided them with the compounds to prepare melrodin and crimlox. The Gralans are running low on the elements for both."

"How low?"

"Judging from what I saw and based on my formula calculations, perhaps enough for another five years."

Weir's brows shot up. "Five years?"

"They have massive storage facilities for the raw chemicals. They use the melrodin sparingly, only twice a year. Maybe they started rationing after Sateda was destroyed. Regardless, they know how to mix the compounds, and that's it. The cleansing process, while complex, boils down to washing the crops thoroughly."

"A dead end."

"Like I said, they can't help us."

Weir searched the discouraged faces around the table. Two days, and they had nothing that would help John Sheppard. Teyla particularly appeared dejected.

"Thank you for all your hard work everyone. Teyla, can I have a word?"

The Athosian remained in her seat as the others departed. Rodney opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at Elizabeth for a moment then turned and left.

"What's wrong, Teyla?"

"Besides the fact that we cannot find a way to help John?"

"Yes. You seem…pensive."

"I believe the Gralans intended to use us to attain the components for the melrodin."

"What makes you think that?"

"I have negotiated many trade agreements over the years. None have gone so smoothly, especially after I told of our medical capabilities just as Carson said."

"Did they mention a need for chemicals of this sort?"

"No, but in the light of recent information, I know of several portions of the agreement that could be construed in that way."

"We have not finalized the trade agreement with them. At this point, I'm not sure we ever will."

OoOoOoOoO

When Rodney arrived in the infirmary, he found Ronon sitting near Sheppard's bed. The former runner was still a bit pale, but the hives were gone, and his breathing had returned to normal.

"Are you supposed to be up?"

"Doc said I could sit here for a while."

"Well, don't pass out or anything because I'm not hauling your heavy ass back to that bed."

A corner of Ronon's mouth tipped upwards. "You couldn't if you tried, McKay. I'm going to talk to Sheppard about workouts for you. When he wakes up."

"Yeah, you do that, Chewie. Is he any better?"

Ronon glanced away as his jaw tightened. "No."

"God, Ronon, I don't know what else to do. My whole science team has been working on it, and Beckett's people have as well. We've just got nothing."

"He's holding his own, Rodney. Sheppard's as tough as they come."

"I know he is. But one day, his luck is going to run out. I'm afraid that day may be today."

McKay cast an eye over the machines monitoring his team leader. Pulse-ox was low, although improved since his last visit, and the fever was still raging. Heartbeat was too fast, blood pressure too high, still completely dependent on the ventilator. What bothered the scientist the most was the utter stillness. Other than the rise and fall of his chest, courtesy of the vent, the colonel didn't move. The motionlessness combined with his waxen features gave him the look of a corpse.

Beckett emerged from his office with a chart and a cup of coffee. "You look exhausted, Rodney."

"Well, you don't look the picture of health and vitality yourself, Carson."

"What are you doing here?"

"It's my shift to sit with Sheppard."

"Don't you think you ought to get some sleep?"

"I can sleep later."

"Rodney."

"I'm not leaving."

"Very well then. That means time for you to get back to your bed, Ronon."

"Doc-"

"Don't you 'Doc' me. You had a very close call yourself. I don't need another patient in critical condition."

Ronon scrutinized Beckett for a moment. McKay had been right; the man looked terrible. He decided to not add any more to the load the Scot was already carrying. "OK, Doc. Let me know if anything changes."

"Done. Now, off with you."

The Satedan eased himself into his bed as Rodney settled in the vacated chair. Dex could sense the fatigue pouring from the physicist. The little man was a lot tougher than he looked, although Ronon would probably never tell him so. Maybe he would talk to Sheppard about some workouts for McKay.

As the lights dimmed, Rodney shifted into a more comfortable position. He could feel sleep seducing him and decided to close his eyes for just a minute. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this tired.

Shrieking alarms jolted McKay back into awareness. Sheppard's cardiac monitor screamed tachycardia. Rodney scrambled out of the way as medical personnel ran in from every direction.

Dr. Donnelly, the night shift attending physician, issued orders for lidocaine as Rodney and Ronon observed from across the room. Moments after injecting the drug into one of the IVs, John's heartbeat slowed, not returning to normal, but at least no longer in fibrillation danger.

Ronon eased back into his bed as Donnelly checked Sheppard's vitals once more and made notes on his chart. McKay ran his hands through his hair and considered asking for a shot of the drug for himself as he reclaimed his chair.

"How is he?"

Her brow creased in a frown as she studied his chart and the machines. "He's actually improving, Dr. McKay, although I know that seems hard to believe right now. We were able to get his heart back in rhythm much quicker this time."

"So, he's going to live?"

"I hate to give you a promise when nothing is guaranteed, but if Colonel Sheppard is anywhere near the fighter that I've heard he is, I would expect him to pull through. You should get some rest, Dr. McKay."

She smiled at the snort he gave her and walked back to her office. Rodney returned to his chair, stretched his legs in front on him, and folded his arms across his chest, relaxing a bit at her words. After an hour of inactivity, the realm of slumber began singing to him again. He drifted off to the whoosh and hiss of the ventilator.

Sound penetrated McKay's consciousness, and he awoke to find several hours had passed. Carson had arrived and was doing a routine exam of Sheppard. Rodney stood and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his neck and back as Beckett pressed the silver disk of his stethoscope to the colonel's chest. Apparently satisfied with what he heard, the doctor checked the colonel's pulse with one hand while making a couple of notes on the chart with the other.

Rodney was peering over Beckett's shoulder as the doctor tugged his penlight from his pocket and peeled back an eyelid to check the pilot's pupil reaction.

"Oh my God, Carson. What's wrong with his eyes?"

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tbc