Chapter 5
As soon as Dr. Mason was out of earshot, Dr. McKay hissed, "So you know that Ken doll of a doctor? Great. You two certainly don't look too happy with this little reunion."
"We were in the same lab for a little while in grad school, that's all. He was two years ahead of me," snapped Dr. Randall. Carson couldn't help but notice how she balled the blanket in her fists and her tone was harsher than it should have been. There was a history between them, but she wasn't going to be sharing.
Well, whoever he is, hopefully he'll run all his tests and release us soon. Right now, I think this Wraith virus is going to kill us with boredom," sighed Colonel Sheppard. He wasn't happy that Caldwell in Dr Weir's office without him present. All he wanted to do was get out of there, and he was pretty much willing to do anything. Under ordinary circumstances he would have simply left and let Beckett chew him out later, and with the doctor here as a patient, it would have been even easier. However, with the Wraith involved and after considering the possible consequences of a city-wide outbreak, he'd stay put, just this once.
Dr. Mason returned in a few minutes with a small tray. "I'm going to collect some blood samples and double-check vitals. If everything looks ok, you'll be free to go." There was soft cheering. "Katydid, you know the drill," he said, walking over to Dr. Randall. She cocked her head at him and he stabbed her earlobe with a lancet, then quickly pipeted the emerging drops of blood with a capillary tube and smeared them on a labeled slide. As he was doing this, Dr. McKay spoke up.
"So you were in school with Dr. Randall? Any good stories to tell?" Dr. Randall glared at Rodney, then at Dr. Mason. Dr. Mason seemed to pause for a moment as he walked over to Colonel Sheppard's bed and took the proffered thumb.
"Don't get her mad. Oh and don't play pool with her unless you like losing money. Once the administrative office screwed up her financial aid, said she was short $1200 and needed it the next day. I offered to loan her the money, but she went into the city and hustled it that night," he looked at Dr. Randall unblinking. She blushed and shrugged. "It's all physics and angles." Dr. Mason finished his tests. I'll check your bloodwork and let you know what you find."
The four were waiting impatiently for the verdicts. Dr. Randall was leaning against a wall and Sheppard was pacing the length of the small room. You were in Dr. Grotzky's lab with Mason?" asked Beckett. "You must have been there when he left the university suddenly. What happened?" He didn't notice her pained look as he was suddenly overtaken by a fit of coughing. "There's blood, too much blood," he thought wearily. "I need," he tried to determine what he needed as the darkness claimed him. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay watched helplessly as red suddenly splattered across white sheets. "Carson will know what to do," thought Sheppard for a moment, before the absurdity of the situation hit him. As he turned to see where Dr. Randall was, a sudden blinding bright pain seared across his temples. His eyes met hers – the pain on her face wasn't from her recollections, at least not now. She was in the same situation as he was and was slumped on the floor, like someone's discarded doll. He struggled to get up and go to her, when strong hands pushed him back, found himself lying flat on the bed. Voices swam around him. Suddenly the room was filled with people and equipment, more than anyone could have expected, the sudden tension electric in the air.
"What the hell, they were fine a minute ago."
"Dr. Beckett was coughing up blood, I'm having trouble finding a pulse."
"Check Dr. McKay."
"Dr. Randall's slumped on the floor, I can't get a response."
"Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Randall are both burning up. I need some cooling blankets and chilled saline."
Coldness. Everything was cold from the alcohol before the needle pinch, to the heart monitor leads, to the cocoon he suddenly found himself in. He tried to push it all away. The blackness was warmth and peace, away from this madness. He wanted to push it all aside, follow the spinning blackness. "Stay with us Colonel," he remembered someone shouting before he decided to follow Alice down that rabbit hole.
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Several frightening hours later, Dr. McKay was making small talk with Dr. Weir, who had dragged a chair in from the main room of the infirmary and listening to the bleating of various monitors. The various doctors had stabilized Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett and Dr. Randall, but from what he could see, they'd won the battle, but were losing the war. He himself had a rising fever and was generally feeling miserable, but they kept reassuring him the situation was under control. He wondered how much truth there was to that statement. An increase in bleating from one of the monitors alerted him and medical staff in the next room that someone was waking up.
"Dr. Beckett, can you hear me?" asked his 2IC, checking his vitals.
"What?" rasped Carson, trying to take in the monitors, the IV, and the tightness in his chest.
"You, the Colonel, and Dr. Randall all seemed to suffer a severe recurrence of the flu. Dr. McKay is stricken as well, but his case isn't as extreme, for now.
"We'll get to the bottom of this," reassured Dr. Weir, squeezing his shoulder, but he could see the wariness in her eyes.
A short while later, Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Randall were taking tentative steps back into consciousness. After medical had taken their vitals, a small crowd gathered, Caldwell among them, a look of unease replacing his usual "all-business" look.
"Ok, we have some good news and some bad news," began Dr. Biro.
"First, we have determined that the virus is limited to only those individuals with the ATA gene. It can't become airborne, but it can be transmitted by contact," interrupted Dr. Mason. There was almost a cheerful note in his voice. "The virus appeared to contain two components, and this is right out of your playbook, Dr. Randall, but the first was a mild flu-like illness. Once the afflicted thought they'd recovered, they would still be capable of infecting others, before the becoming ill the second time. Nice way to infect those you missed the first time. "
"So what's the good news?" demanded Dr. McKay, more than a little agitated.
"That was the good news. The bad news is that we really don't know what we're up against, such as the virulence, or the ability of this virus to mutate. We're stabbing in the dark right now. We do know the virus appears to attack both the nervous and the pulmonary system. We could be looking at encephalitis and/or respiratory problems. I don't know if we can treat this or how much time we have." There was an uncomfortable silence, as the implications sunk in to all those present.
"We'll find something. Dismissed people," Caldwell's baritone finally shattered the silence. People cast worried glances at the bed's occupants, before leaving.
"So what was that comment about a playbook?'" demanded Dr. McKay, once everyone but Dr. Mason and Dr. Weir had left the room.
"We used to have a contest, once every couple weeks in the lab. Design the worst virus you could think of. Kyte usually won," answered Dr. Mason.
"Just name something?" asked Dr. Weir looking at the two uneasily.
"No that'd be too simple. You had to design or at least demonstrate how you'd create a superbug. Our advisor was a Soviet cold-war era biologist, Nothing was off-limits. We were like kids in a candy store," continued Dr. Mason.
"That's a very morbid candy store," commented Carson quietly, trying to recollect what he'd heard about the lab. He knew that there was some brilliant research, and a sudden, private scandal, and a fall from grace. Colonel Sheppard looked troubled at the thought of what the two of them could have developed.
"We were on the verge of some incredible breakthroughs. Then Dr. Randall develops what she calls a conscience," he glared at the scientist.
"She stared back at him, oblivious for a moment to the audience. "I did what I had to do. You told me you and Ben supported my decision, then left me standing alone. Is that how you deal with a crisis? Find someone's skirts to hide under?"
"You could have talked to Leon. You didn't have to do what you did."
'I did. He laughed, told me I was naïve. Didn't believe I'd have the stomach to confront him. The when I did, he destroyed my reputation."
'He blacklisted you?" Dr. Mason's tone took on a shocked note.
'Yes. End of story." The stare she gave him and those listening conveyed both pride and pain. She'd done what she thought was right, and had paid a terrible price, the victory a bitter taste. Dr. Mason abruptly left the room.
"What was all that?" asked Dr. McKay, puzzled at the thread of the conversation.
"So you were the one," muttered Carson thoughtfully. Dr. Randall nodded.
"My advisor wanted to prove how easy it was to get a hold of certain materials and build a biological weapon. He planned to release it across campus. Nobody'd get hurt he said. It violated everything I knew, I took my case to the school authorities. I thought I was doing the right thing, others didn't see it that way," she said softly, before turning to stare at the wall.
"You did the right thing," started Dr. Weir walking over, "There are standards for responsible science and research, although those lines get blurry sometimes," she admitted thinking of the various events in the past year. Carson exchanged guilty looks with Colonel Sheppard, and Rodney picked a point on the floor to stare at.
The mood in the room for the next day was uneasy for a number of reasons. Nobody was quite sure how to address Dr. Randall's admissions and the emotions that accompanied them. In addition, the 'Wraith flu,' as it was now officially named, was certainly worse this time around. Headaches, fevers, chills, as well as congestion were par for the course, and everyone, with the exception of Rodney for now, was occasionally coughing up blood. It was getting harder to breathe and everyone was exhausted. Carson was more than a little nervous. The drugs that his co-workers were adding to the IVs were having limited effects and were putting pressure on their other organ systems. Dr. Mason and Dr. Biro appeared stumped.
TBC