CHAPTER SIX: SUBJECT 0-0-0-1
Elizabeth entered the infirmary and her attention was immediately drawn by the sound of voices arguing in low tones. It didn't take long to identify them – Carson Beckett and Rodney McKay.
Atlantis' CMO she'd expected – after all, he had an Ancient visitor under his care. Even when there were no 'garden variety' medical problems to be dealt with, the Scot could still usually be found in the sick bay, elbow deep in genetic research or perusal of medical texts in the city's databases.
McKay on the other hand, she would have thought to be off with Dr. Zelenka studying whatever new item they'd brought back from the moon, PX3-922, or quibbling with one of the other scientists about the translation of the message that they'd found earlier.
As she rounded the corner, she saw that it was Rodney who was doing most of the arguing. Carson, arms crossed, was shaking his head in staunch disagreement of whatever suggestion Rodney had made.
"Gentlemen," Elizabeth greeted quietly, sending a pointed look in both their directions, bringing their debate to an abrupt halt for all of 500 milliseconds. They immediately began to speak at once, trying to bring her to their side of an argument that she completely ignored.
"And how is Major Sheppard?" she asked, gesturing meaningfully toward the privacy curtain which shielded him from the rest of the medical bay. It was late, and she doubted that the men's argument was all that serious or they would have brought it to her already.
"He's sleeping. Out like the proverbial light." Rodney's response was rattled off first, no doubt in an effort to quickly get back to the point uppermost in his mind.
Carson's reply followed, heavy with aggravation. "Resting fairly well now that we've done away with most of his entourage." There was no mistaking the glare he shot in Rodney's direction. "I'm only keeping him overnight for observation. He'll be off and on his way in the morning if all goes well. I don't expect any problems."
She nodded, glad to hear that her instinct regarding the major's condition had been confirmed. Obviously Teyla and Ford had left with some coaxing from the Doctor, McKay on the other hand had stuck around. She wanted to know why, and judging purely by the way the astrophysicist impatiently waited for Beckett to finish speaking, he wanted to tell her.
"We need to wake him up," he told her.
Elizabeth shook her head, not certain she fully understood. "Wake who up?"
"The guy. Our visitor from the ancient outpost. John Doe. Subject zero-zero-zero-one – whatever you want to call him."
Ah, now she understood. She also understood that Carson didn't agree.
"We need to let the man regain consciousness in his own time. His body's gone through quiet a shock. Based on my examination, the days before he entered that stasis chamber were no picnic, let me tell you. There are even signs of a physical struggle. Aside from the dehydration, we found healing puncture wounds near the base of his neck. They were hidden by his hair earlier."
"Could it have happened during the war with the Wraith?" she asked.
"At this point anything is possible," Rodney interjected. "We won't know until we ask him."
"I don't want to rush it," Carson insisted. "While I don't think stimulants would endanger his life, I'd prefer not to introduce anything of the sort into his system right now."
"How long do you think it'll be before he wakes up on his own?" Elizabeth asked, striving to be the peacemaker, though she really couldn't disagree with Carson. .
"Difficult to say," Beckett responded, giving her little to work with. "We've hydrated him, and are trying to get his electrolyte levels back to what we think is normal for his physiology. He's made remarkable progress, but it could be another hour or another day before he wakes up."
She turned to the other man. "I understand the potential for new understanding of the technologies here in the city, never mind basic information on the type of civilization the Atlanteans may have. I'm excited and curious, too. But surely it can wait another day."
"That's not it," Rodney shook his head, denying what had been her gut thought on his reasons for wanting to wake the other man.
"Really? What is?"
Rodney looked at Carson pointedly, before directing her toward the opposite side of the room. "Come with me."
"I told you the tests aren't complete, yet, Rodney," Carson argued softly as she followed, confused, as Rodney picked up a device from the counter and displayed it for her to see. It flashed with dots and arrows of differing colors. He continued walking, moving through the curtained off section which contained their visitor.
She watched, still not sure what he was trying to show her, as he quietly approached the sleeping man. He looked much the same as he had when she'd been standing in that same position hours earlier. Rodney carefully placed the hand held device atop the man's chest and stepped away. The little screen blanked into darkness.
He shot a telling look toward the both of them before retrieving the small machine, which lit up obediently and stepped away from the bedside and beyond the curtain. "I don't think we need to wait for the results, do you, Doctor?" Rodney said. "He doesn't have the gene. How do we know he's really an Ancient?"
Stunned, Elizabeth followed the two men back into the outer area of the medical bay. She'd never considered the thought that the man wouldn't be an Ancient. She'd never known any of the Atlantean devices not to work with those who had the gene naturally or had taken to the gene therapy, but she remembered one small item from the short debriefing that had taken place after Major Sheppard had been sent to the infirmary.
"Is it possible that this device doesn't work for everyone who has the gene?" Elizabeth phrased it as a question, knowing Rodney would get her meaning.
"I've had personal experience with devices not working well with all people," Carson chimed in. "The chair, for example. Besides there is the possibility that the mental component may not work if the person is deeply unconscious as our patient is."
"What sort of mental component could there possibly be to a life signs detector?" Rodney argued. "It's pretty generic as far as Ancient tech goes. It's not like, say, a door such as the one on the outpost – which, since everything I tried to pull from the database there is garbled, we still haven't resolved the true reason why it didn't work the first few times we tried it."
"What door?" Carson wanted to know. Obviously, Rodney hadn't chosen to let him in on that bit of information.
"It doesn't matter," Rodney dismissed the question. "The point is – the Life Signs Detector is a simple piece of equipment. The puddle jumper is a highly advanced piece of technology. If he can't turn on a life signs detector, he can't fly a jumper, he can't operate half the equipment in that outpost. What was he doing there? We could be wasting our time and resources one someone who doesn't know anymore than we do."
"It might be a genetic aberration," Beckett argued. "He could even be a time traveler."
"Or one of the other races that were under the protection of the Ancients," Elizabeth added. But she was still unsettled by the questions Rodney's statement raised. "Have we been able to determine how long ago he was put into the chamber?"
"Ten thousand years, at least," Rodney answered the question. "Right about the time the city was abandoned."
"Are you sure?" She frowned.
"Pretty sure. Remember, the gate on that world will only dial Atlantis. According to the database, it's been just over 10,000 years since anyone dialed in from that gate. There isn't much else around in the vicinity."
"Admittedly, I don't know how old this gentleman was when he entered the chamber, but he looks a lot younger than my counterpart did."
Rodney looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, we discovered something else. I went back through the data. Our diverting the power when we first arrived caused something of a 'brown out' situation in the chamber, and then our sending the lightning surge through the city created the opposite effect. The system wasn't designed for that type of stress while occupied. We think those . . . events may have affected the system."
Elizabeth was stunned for the second time in as many minutes. The possibilities . . . . What if they had realized sooner . . . . She shook herself, refusing to indulge in what might have been.
"She probably still would have been a lot older," Beckett jumped in. "Remember, Ancient physiology is different than ours. The chambers were made specifically for them. We really can't be completely certain of how much would have been normal aging for one of us."
"Of course," she nodded, thanking him for that bit of reassurance. Then, refocusing on the issue at hand, she made a decision.
"We wait and allow him to wake on his own. He isn't any less valuable as a person because he doesn't have the gene – if he doesn't have the gene. I'd like to wait and see what the test results tell us." With that, she nodded at both men and left the room, ignoring both Rodney's gasp of displeasure and Beckett's smug smile of approval.
