CHAPTER 4
In the gateroom there's a tense sort of quiet. Not silence: the event horizon laps against the stargate, there's the usual control room hums and clicks and beeps, the squeak of leather boots as the marines on security detail adjust their positions, and frantic talking in low voices, mostly coming from Zelenka, McKay and Carter.
Sheppard's battered eardrums can't hear most of this, but he can see it. He's has allowed himself to sit down, Ronon standing guard beside him, and although he'is dividing his attention between the trio of scientists arguing upstairs and the innocent-looking puddle of the gate, out of the corner of his eye he sees Dr Keller making a beeline for him. At some point in the last minute she's managed to shed the blood-covered gloves and is pulling on a fresh pair. Small mercies.
She makes eye contact, aware of the Colonel's hearing difficulty, and makes a valiant effort at smiling as she gestures helpfully at the stethoscope around her neck.
Sheppard nods, resigned to the fact that Dr Keller's come to check up on him. He's aware that he's holding himself tensely, partly due to the pain in his ribs, and partly because it's a way of keeping it all together. Gently, Keller helps him strip off his outer jacket, noting the wince at the change of position. She checks breathing and heart rate, and Sheppard lets her get on with it, focusing still on the gate. He feels the squeeze on his upper arm as she checks his blood pressure, and glances down as the doctor shows him the numbers – his pressure is a little high, but he suspects he has that in common with everyone here.
Sheppard knows the standard neuro checks by heart. He tries not to flinch as the light from the penlight hits his retinas, and successfully follows Keller's finger with his eyes. He bites his lip against the sting as she individually checks the cuts and scratches left by the flying shrapnel, but he knows that it's not too bad. He grinds his teeth as she gently palpates down one side of his chest and then the other, sucking in a painful breath at one point. He must have closed his eyes, because she taps him lightly on the side of the face to tell him she's finished.
"Colonel, we really need to get you to the infirmary to treat your injuries," she tries, gesturing towards the still-empty gurney, and offering him a helping hand.
"Doc, I'm not leaving here til this is resolved," Sheppard replies. "There's nothing wrong with me that can't wait, is there?"
Keller purses her lips. She hadn't expected him to come quietly, to be honest, and if she was in his place she wouldn't want to be out of the loop about what was happening. And, since she herself is fully intending to stay in the gateroom in case of more casualties, she realises she's going to find it difficult to persuade the Colonel to leave.
"You should be fine," she replies, reluctantly. "But you stay here, no moving around. And you call me if you feel worse, or if you experience any new symptoms."
"Thanks," says Sheppard, simply, and goes on watching the gate and the science team.
o0o
Keller hesitates to disturb Colonel Carter, Rodney and Radek, but she thinks they'll want to know how 'their' Sheppard is doing, and she herself wants to know what to expect next – if they've worked it out. She climbs the steps and hovers uncertainly a yard or two back from where they're arguing around the gate status console.
One of the gate techs moves to stand with her, and offers a weak half-smile of greeting.
"Do you know what they think is happening?" Keller asks.
"It's out of my league," admits the gate tech. "Last I heard Dr McKay was talking about parallel realities: how the ancient device at the other end of the wormhole is somehow cycling through a pattern: console explodes, with Sheppard right next to it, and he either lives or dies – the version where he lives is our reality, and the one where he dies is the alternative."
"So why are the alternative versions arriving here?" Keller wonders, aloud.
"That's what they're working on right now," answers the tech. "There's so much we're still discovering about how the gate technology works, and nobody understands it better than these three," he goes on, glancing over at the figures clustered around the tablet and console screen and the data streaming across both. "The bottom line is that we don't know what happened with the initial explosion. Maybe the set-up in the lab actually fused together parts of the gate controls with the matter bridge device, and when whatever-it-was overloaded, it fused the two systems."
Keller nods, grateful for an attempt at explanation, but this is an area of science that's completely outside her expertise. She takes a tentative step closer, hoping for both an insight into where they've got to, and for an opening in the discussion to update them on the Colonel's status.
"I'm telling you," Rodney splutters, "that this is the only explanation that makes sense!"
"You're probably right," admits Carter, "but there's no way of proving it, and we don't even know how the cycling of the device will effect the normal function of the stargate. We know from past experience that it's possible for the gate to remain open longer than 38 minutes in certain specific conditions, primarily if it's being kept open by an independent energy source at the initiating end of the wormhole."
"So," says Zalenka, "we just wait around to see if it stops of its own accord?" We still have, what, eighteen minutes to go, and if the pattern continues, that's two more bodies through the gate!"
"Wait," Keller interrupts, and the three scientists all turn round in surprise.
"You just said, 'bodies'. I thought if there's a 50/50 chance that the Colonel dies, then there's a chance that he could survive this! Isn't there?"
"We don't know for certain," Carter admits, holding up a hand to forestall her colleagues. "But what Dr McKay - what we - think is happening is that the overload, or the explosion, or both, creates a new alternative reality – one in which Colonel Sheppard dies. But through some interaction with the gate itself, the Colonel Sheppard from the alternative reality jumps back to ours."
"At that point," McKay interrupts, "the whole alternate reality ceases to exist – since Sheppard was the only variable that distinguishes it from our own reality."
Keller must have looked blank, because Zelenka has a go at explaining. "Think of it like a bubble. It's not bubble, but think of it like bubble. Alternate reality only exists for the maybe one second between explosion and Sheppard coming through the gate. Is like a bubble, then 'pop' it's gone."
Realisation dawns, and Keller feels like she's swallowed a bucket of lead.
"So, this isn't lots of different realities here, is it?" she asks, already knowing the answer. "It's the same alternative, being created over and over again from scratch. It's the version where he dies. And he's going to do it over and over again."
Carter nods, looking down. "Even if the details are different, fundamentally it's the same pattern being played out. Again and again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jennifer, but even if more come through, and they will, you're not going to be able to do anything for them."
"My God," breathes Keller. "Does he know that?" she asks, glancing down at the stiffly seated figure on the bench to the side of the gateroom.
"He'll find out," replies McKay, darkly. "Is he OK?"
Keller gathers herself. "He's going to be fine. Superficial abrasions to the face and other exposed areas from the blast, a minor concussion, ribs that are certainly cracked, may be broken, but aren't causing any problems as long as he keeps still. And although his eardrums weren't perforated by the force of the explosion, it'll be a couple of days before his hearing's back to normal." She speaks quickly, glad to be able to say something good.
"But how's he doing, you know, how's he holding up?"
"I have no idea," Keller admits.
There's a moment of quiet as they all four take in the scene down on the gate room floor. Major Lorne has marshalled personnel into catching positions, and the security detail are poised around the edge of the room.
"So, do we tell them that there's no point in catching the next one to come through the gate?" Rodney asks, an edge to his voice that is more due to the stress of the situation than to his usual acerbic personality.
"They're not there for the benefit of the John Sheppard who's about to come through the gate," murmers Keller, glancing at her watch, then at the countdown that someone has helpfully set up on the gate status screen. "They're there for the sake of the John Sheppard sitting on that bench who has to watch himself dying over and over again, and who doesn't need to see his own face smashed into the step. Again."
Keller shudders, and turns to head down the stairs again. For the same reason, she knows where she needs to be in one minute when the next body comes through the gate.
