The Puppet Master
Chapter Twenty Six - Plan B
It took McKay a good minute to wake from his second round of treatment. Sheppard was experiencing a strong sense of deja-vu, reliving the nightmare in glorious technicolor. As before, McKay had arched off the bed, gasping, his features drawn in an expression of pain. The cuffs chinked against the rails, and the bed rattled.
When he finally opened his eyes, it was to stare wide-eyed in confusion at the crowd around his bed. Disorientated and terrified, and, Sheppard realised, feeling a hole open up in his gut, apparently at a complete loss as to what was going on. Only Elizabeth hid her panic with any grace – Sheppard was ready to rip McKay from the bed, and even Carson's professional mask slipped. The Scot gripped McKay's hand tightly, repeating a mantra: 'It's okay. Just relax. You'll remember in a second.'
Eventually the words seemed to penetrate, the frantic gaze in McKay's eyes being replaced by something darker. His muscles uncoiled, and he collapsed onto the bed and panting heavily. Carson released his grip, patting the scientist on the wrist gently before taking up his pen light. McKay immediately screwed his eyes shut.
"Are you obsessed with blinding me, Carson? I'm fine. I know where I am. It's just, ah, for a second there – I didn't."
"I'm afraid that's a common side-effect," Beckett said, apologetically, slipping the penlight into his pocket. "Disorientation, temporary short term memory loss, nausea – "
"Haven't got that," McKay said, optimistically, lifting a finger from the bed.
"Well, that's good."
"My mouth's dry, though." He cracked an eye open and looked about the bed. "I don't suppose –"
"Ice chip?" Sheppard proffered, holding out the beaker. He waited for a moment while Beckett neatly manoeuvred McKay into a sitting position, then spooned one chip into his friend's mouth. McKay flushed a deep red, mumbled a thanks, and closed his eyes again, this time in pleasure.
"That's better." He swallowed, then opened his eyes and looked at Beckett. "This, ah, this short-term memory loss thing –"
"Temporary," Carson assured him quickly. "Although I'm afraid the side-effects will only worsen the more treatments you receive."
"Huh." He wriggled his shoulders against the pillow. "Then I guess we had better get started."
Slowly the device took shape under the Czech's fingers, piece by delicate piece. McKay displayed a clear memory of its dismantling, and despite the artefact's intricacy Zelenka was learning quickly, often leaping two or three steps ahead of McKay and earning himself a sharp tongue lashing for his troubles.
"If you rush you'll break it!"
"You wish me to make speed," Zelenka retorted, "and yet you distract me at every turn."
"If you listened to me in the first place I wouldn't need to," McKay bit back. "Now concentrate."
It might have been easy for Sheppard to relax, to lose himself in the easy bantering between the two scientists, but he was watching McKay carefully. The toll their efforts were taking on the scientist was clear. McKay was pale, a fine sheen of sweat coating his skin, his eyes glassy and a little unfocussed. Every few minutes a fine tremor would run down his arm or leg, his voice would quiver, and Zelenka would wait silently for McKay to regain control before continuing as thought it had never happened. Each time Carson moved towards the bed, muttering under his breath, and each time McKay would shoo him back with a dismissive wave.
He wasn't the only one concerned. Elizabeth took a step towards the bed. "How it is going, gentlemen?"
Zelenka pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger. "It is, ah, coming, Doctor Weir. It is a marvel, this device. Beautiful in its intricacy."
"Though frequently redundant," McKay interrupted. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
"As much as I hate to bring this up," Kate said, delicately, "but once the device is fixed, do we have any idea of how to get Kezan back in it?"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "It's a fair question. Do we have any idea?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. Zelenka coughed, and looked down at the device. "It is something I have been thinking of…"
"And?" Sheppard asked, hopefully.
"He's got nothing," McKay said, irritably, oblivious to Radek's flinch. "Have you checked back in the lab? There might be something –"
"The lab was destroyed," Zelenka said, softly.
The physicist stopped mid-ramble, closing his eyes. When he spoke his voice trembled. "Oh." Then a breath, and he looked up. "Well, plan B then."
Sheppard raised his eyebrows. "There's a plan B?"
"I've been working on a theory," McKay volunteered, lifting his chin from his chest. "Been developing it while, ah, you know…"
"Otherwise engaged?" he suggested.
"Yes, well, it's not like there's much else to do."
"So," Carson prompted.
"Electricity." He tugged at the restraints restlessly. "It seems to temporarily sever Kezan's control, right?"
"Which we already knew," Sheppard said slowly.
"Yes, well, I think a big enough jolt –"
"No, no, no," Beckett interrupted, quickly. "I see where you're going with this, Rodney, but you can't be serious –"
"Please," McKay snapped back, "I know exactly what I'm suggesting but it's feasible –"
"- that it could kill you –"
"For God's sake, Carson, I'm not talking about sticking my hand into a naquadah generator –"
"What," Elizabeth interjected firmly, "are we talking about?"
McKay turned his head towards her. "When I'm in control, like now, I'm forcing Kezan to stay down. I can also let him rise to the surface. Now the device from the planet doesn't just hold data, it actively absorbs and releases it as part of the storage process."
"So," Zelenka said slowly, "You hold the device, Carson gives you this, ah, this shock, then you think Kezan will be forced back into his original home."
"Yes," McKay said, triumphantly.
"You think," Sheppard emphasised.
"It's not a complete guess, Major."
"It's a half-baked theory," Carson objected.
"Backed up by what we already know."
"You're asking me to electrocute you!" the Scot protested.
McKay rolled his eyes. "Yes, basically, but if it makes you feel better you can knock me out for it. I don't think consciousness will make much of a difference."
"Oh, well," Beckett retorted, sarcastically, "if we're talking about something so simple. Dammit, Rodney, even by your standards this is insane!"
"It m-makes sense," McKay insisted, then took a breath, gripping the bed rails tightly.
Sheppard took a step towards the bed, alarmed. "You okay?"
The physicist shook his head, gulping. "Oh crap." He lifted his head to look up at Beckett. "Carson, p-please. Think about it. Talk it over, I don't care, just –"
"It's barbaric," the Scot interrupted, softly.
McKay cracked a half-smile, his mouth drooping at one corner. "Always said you practised voodoo."
Elizabeth frowned, worry etched in her features. "Rodney, if there's another way –"
"If you can find another, you're all w-welcome."
"Rodney –"
"Carson," he spoke earnestly: "I'm volunteering. Don't feel bad about it. Believe me, I'd rather this than the alternative."
Carson winced, but nodded, reluctantly. "All right. I'll think about it."
"Thank you." He took another breath and stared fixedly at a spot on the mattress in front of him. "Kezan is, ah, being rather… forceful."
"Celia," Beckett called out, over his shoulder, a note of urgency in his voice.
"Just another minute," McKay insisted, his voice pinched tight with pain.
Sheppard reached out to grip his friend's shoulder firmly. "Take it easy."
"John." Two desperate eyes turned towards him, McKay's breath quick and uneven, his hands clenched white around the bed rails. "If things go wrong –"
"They won't," he insisted, automatically, remembering Teyla's words from before.
"If they do –"
"McKay –"
"Talk to him." McKay closed his eyes tightly, leaning forward in the bed and gasping. "P-please."
He gave up, squeezing the shoulder gently. "Alright. I'll talk to him."
McKay nodded, satisfied, then curled over further, tugging harder against the restraints. Suddenly one of the machines started beeping, a loud, angry noise. Alarmed, Beckett turned to the monitor, then back to the bed, his eyes wide.
"What's going on?" Elizabeth demanded, alarmed.
"I'm not sure. His EEG trace is levelling – Celia, I need you now –"
Sheppard leant over the bed, placing his hand on McKay's back and feeling the man shudder uncontrollably. "It's okay –"
"No," came back a pitiful wheeze, "it really isn't. Zelenka –"
"I will fix this," the Czech promised, faithfully. "You have helped me enough, Rodney."
Beckett moved to the other side of McKay, placing one hand on the man's chest and the other beside Sheppard's own on the physicist's back, supporting his weight. Celia had appeared beside him, operating the IV with quick hands. "We're going to give you the sedative now, Rodney. Just a little –"
With a sudden wrench McKay bolted upright, gasping, his eyes wildly scanning the room in panic. The IV was jerked from Celia's grasp.
"What – no, what -"
"Hold him still!" Beckett ordered, grabbing McKay's arm firmly between both hands. Sheppard took hold of his friend's other arm, then lifted himself up onto the bed to force McKay's chest down into the mattress with his knee. Beneath them Kezan struggled, crying out, broken with fear.
"Don't – please – what – what are you –" Another desperate jerk, blue eyes locking onto Sheppard's with fierce determination. "Don't do this –"
