Judy handed me the latest printout of John's vital signs. Heart rate and blood pressure had decreased to levels only slightly above human norm, and his breathing was deep and even. I shook my head slightly. Normally, someone who was this deeply sedated would require a ventilator for respiratory support. We were dealing with so many unknown variables, and I could only guess if what I was seeing was normal for what John was becoming.

Across the room, Carson had come out of his lab and was talking to Elizabeth and Caldwell. "He's in a medically-induced coma. We were afraid he would break through the restraints."

"That's a good call, doctor." I looked at Judy and grimaced. Neither of us liked Caldwell very much. He was too quick to sacrifice his men to further his own agenda.

Elizabeth cut directly to the chase. "So what now?"

Carson suddenly looked old. "The retrovirus has wreaked havoc on his system and is taking over."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Carson said grimly, "that if we don't find a way to stop the retrovirus, what's left of the John Sheppard we know will be gone."

Elizabeth nodded like she'd been expecting this, but her eyes were haunted. Caldwell started to say something to her, but Carson took his arm in a not-so-gentle grip and pulled him away. "Leave her alone, man!" Carson hissed. Judy and I grinned at each other.

When I looked up again, Carson was gone and Caldwell was walking over to us. "What security measures do you have in place for this situation?" he asked crisply.

"What security measures?" I repeated. "In case it escaped your notice, Colonel Sheppard's about as unconscious as one can get." I used to play college football for Harvard, and I gave Caldwell the look and stance I had perfected against Yalie offensive linemen.

"Thank you, Schwartz, that had been brought to my attention," he replied, omitting my title. "The question still stands." He mirrored my stance, making me wonder, in a small corner of my mind, if he'd also played football at the Air Force Academy.

"Colonel Sheppard is both physically and chemically restrained, Caldwell. You want anything else, you deal with it." I deliberately turned my back on the commander of the Daedalus and continued to go over the treatment plan with Judy. After a minute I heard Caldwell stomp out of the infirmary, and I looked over to see how Elizabeth was doing.

She must have thought that everyone's attention was elsewhere, because she had let her leader's mask slip a bit. She was now sitting on one of the hospital beds and staring blankly at the curtain partially blocking her view of John's treatment cubicle. Elizabeth didn't respond when I walked over to her, so I put a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle shake. Then she looked at me in a way that made me want to weep.

"He should be stable for a little while longer," I said. "Would you like a few minutes with him?" To say goodbye, I added silently. She nodded mutely. I caught Judy's eye and we moved off to give Elizabeth some privacy. I could still hear a little of what she said, though.

"I'm here to practice my bedside manner again, John, so you're going to have to tell me how I'm doing." She gave a little laugh. "Dr. Heightmeyer once asked me about my personal feelings for you (Sessions, chapter 4). I didn't give her an answer at the time, so let me give it a try now. You're one of the deepest friends I've ever had. And I've never had anyone else on my team that I could work with so easily, even if we don't always agree." Elizabeth slapped John's hand playfully. "I'm expecting you to pull off a miraculous recovery, by the way. I never got a chance to finish kicking your butt after you broke quarantine. And I also never got to hear what you were really going to say when your jumper got lodged in the gate..."

Elizabeth's voice dropped to a whisper, so the rest of her words were lost to me. She continued a little longer, then left John's bedside without looking back. I saw her glare at one of the guards Caldwell had left behind. "Is there a way we can close off this section of the infirmary?" she asked. "Let's at least keep any other gawkers to a minimum." The young guard winced but said nothing.

"We can do that," I said softly.

"Good. With your permission, I'd like to send in John's team, too."

"Of course." At that, Elizabeth nodded and left, walking past the guard as if he didn't exist. The poor kid looked very upset at that.

"Don't worry, son." I said. "It's Colonel Caldwell she's pissed off at, not you." Son? I've been working with Carson for too long. Next thing you know I'll be calling the kid 'laddybuck' or something like that!

"I know, sir," the guard replied. "It's just that... Colonel Sheppard saved my butt once by flying medevac under heavy fire. I doubt he'd remember me, but the last thing I want to do is intrude."

"You're not. Sheppard himself would be the first one to insist on tight security." I really wanted to see what was going on in the lab, so I decided to put the kid to work. It might also be a good distraction for him. "Listen, John's connected to machines that will beep if his condition deteriorates, but I might not hear them in the lab. I need you to yell for me or Nurse Henning if that happens, okay?" I patted him on the shoulder, another of Carson's reassuring gestures.

Whatever happened to John, it was going to be really hard for me to leave this place.

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Carson was hunched over a microscope when I walked into the lab. That position looked uncomfortable as hell, but he didn't even look up. He knew as well as I did that we were pretty much out of options, yet he seemed determined to keep trying until either he or John crashed. Abruptly he pushed his chair away from the lab bench. "Happy now? You were right and I was wrong," he said bitterly.

If our association has taught me anything, it's that our Chief Medical Officer has a bad temper during times of stress. This time, though, I had to keep a tight rein on my own. "That's one of the craziest things I've heard you say, and you've come up with a few good ones since we got here! I think Rodney's lunacy is starting to rub off." Maybe this was for the good, though. If we yelled at each other enough, he could get it out of his system and go back to searching for a miracle. John owed me for this -- if he survived.

"Guess that goes along with you comparing me and Rodney to mad scientists," Carson sneered.

"Probably does," I agreed. "Million dollar question, though. Do you think I'm right?"

Carson muttered something that sounded like "pain-in-the-ass moralizers." But he admitted, "You might be." I supposed that was as good as I was going to get for now.

"Anything?" I asked.

"No," he said shortly. "I've got nothing. Even the stem cell idea was a long shot at best, and might have done more harm than good if we didn't get the genetic sequencing just right. How's John?"

"He's about the same for now. At the very least, he shouldn't be feeling anything. Elizabeth just said a private goodbye, and the rest of his team will probably do the same."

"Aye. They've -- we've -- all become very close. Like kin." John may not have been feeling any pain, but Carson certainly was. "I wish... I wish we didn't have to keep him in the infirmary. John once told me he hated hospitals." Carson smiled at the memory. "That was just after one of his more childish arguments about post-mission physicals."

"I believe it! In the early stages of his conversion, he said the place didn't even smell right."

Carson froze. "Smell right..." his voice trailed off. "I'm a bloody idiot, and I think you might be a genius."

Okaaay. What was going on here? "I'm flattered. Bewildered, but flattered."

He continued mumbling to himself. "Maybe... bugs, colony-minded critters. Might work if..." He looked up to find me staring at him. "Pheromones, lad! The infirmary didn't smell right because none of us gave off Iratus-bug pheromones."

Thank God for that, I thought.

Carson's voice became excited again. "But if John could smell them, maybe he's producing them. And that might be our ticket into that cave."

Right. That did make some sense. But... "How are you going to determine that? We don't know the chemical structure of an Iratus-bug pheromone, so how can we look for one?"

The master molecular biologist was back in action. "Sweat sample. We know what should be in human sweat. Anything else is our target."

Carson tapped firmly on his earpiece. "Dr. Weir, I need to speak to you immediately."