Chapter 8
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone. Flah7, I always knew Carson was secretly a brawler, glad someone else thinks along those lines.
"So it's all a question of where the ATA sequence is?" asked Colonel Sheppard dubiously, before a bout of coughing overtook him. He waved off the medic trying to adjust his oxygen.
"Makes perfect sense to me," nodded Carson weakly. He knew he could launch into a lecture regarding the intricacies of gene insertion, but knew from previous experience that there would be rolling eyes from several people thirty seconds into the explanation. "Unfortunately for you Rodney, I do not have any magic spells in my book for this situation," he added dryly. "I'm afraid you'll have to trust some other purveyor of voodoo."
"Guys, I can do this. I just need a little time and a few more of these," Dr. Randall interrupted with an imperious tone, as she popped the top on another caffeine drink and looked at Dr. Mason. He smiled at her, the prodigal daughter had returned. Rodney scowled slightly. He had received Lt. Cadman's report and although he trusted Kyte's talents, there was still something that made him uneasy. He tried to push nervousness aside, but paranoia was an old friend, and knew all the tricks. Dr. Randall was silent for the most part, occasionally asking questions of Dr. Mason and Dr. Biro as they trailed in every so often. Rodney hated to admit it, but she seemed almost happy, she had the lid of the puzzle box plus all four corners put together, it was simply a matter of finding the few remaining pieces. Of course one does not criticize someone who is actively trying to save your life.
"She must have been something, in a former life," he thought. Still despite her small smile, he thought he could see something else in her eyes, besides the strain of the current situation he couldn't quite identify.
"I think I got it," she spoke softly, the exhaustion in her voice betraying the glee across her face. Finished the puzzle – all 10,000 pieces.
"You think?" snapped Rodney a little more harshly than he intended, although this was his life on the line, and this, in his book was definitely sort of spell complete with chicken bones.
Dr. Randall's eyes narrowed. "I know," she corrected. "Get this formulation to biochemistry. It's a little crude, but should do the trick."
"What's a little crude," asked Rodney, paranoia shoving aside skepticism.
"Close enough for government standards," she shot back.
"Which government? U.S. or Canadian?"
Kyte looked for a moment like she wanted to strangle him, but simply laughed. "And if I said French?" She ducked three weakly thrown pillows. "Seriously, though, I don't think any of us are going to be any fun for a little while, but it beats the alternative." She noticed Sheppard giving her a reassuring smile. "Just another page in his book," she thought. Carson was probably thinking the same thing. "I wonder how many frequent flier points this is worth," she chuckled silently before making a couple of final keystrokes and handing the laptop to Dr. Mason. There was the sound of cheering from the other room.
Dr. Biro walked into the room a couple hours later. Despite the fact that she was a pathologist, Rodney couldn't help feeling glad it was she and not Dr. Mason that carried several syringes. Carson noted that she seemed relieved that she was greeted with quiet appreciation; she was of course more comfortable with the dead. Who knows what might have happened had they all stood up and cheered, if they'd had the strength. She simply walked around to each of them and emptied the contents of a syringe into each of their IV ports, then left the room to apparently let them rest.
Sleep, however, did not come. The effects of the treatment were nearly immediate and certainly far from painless. "What the hell did you put in that?" groaned Rodney, then wished he could take the words back, when he saw Dr. Randall and Colonel Sheppard were in much worse pain.
"Think of it as chemical pliers that are pulling the virus from the receptor sites. It was the simplest solution, not necessarily the most elegant," shrugged Kyte as she winced slightly. "The good thing is, I was also able to start designing a vaccine. If the Wraith left any other 'artifacts,' that won't be a problem."
"That's great. Do you think that you'll be able to reverse-engineer the virus into some sort of weapon?" asked Carson. Kyte started to say something, then looked away and fiddled with a lead for one of the monitors.
"It would be nice to have another option against the Wraith," added Colonel Sheppard. "A little payback." Kyte looked torn, and tried to say something again, but before she could get the words out, she fell back against the pillows and the monitors started beeping wildly.
"What the hell is going on in here," asked Carson's 2IC, rushing into the room. He checked Kyte's vitals, then checked and double-checked her medical chart. "This makes no sense," he muttered over the cacophony of the monitors as he eyed the scene playing out before him.
"Check with Dr. Mason. I think he was giving her something," suggested Rodney. Carson could only watch with worry and frustration, unable to participate.
"There's nothing here in her chart…" started the doctor. "Damn, he must have been giving her something to keep awake, focused, ignoring what was really going on. Hopefully, he kept a separate chart." He stormed out, muttering choice words under his breath.
In spite of himself, Rodney smiled at Carson. "I hate to admit it, Carson, but sometimes I think you teach them well." Carson gave him a wry smile.
A short time later, much to everyone's relief, Dr. Randall's condition was stabilized and she was sleeping under the influence of a heavy sedative. "Dr. Mason was kept giving her stimulants, which was quite inappropriate under the circumstances. Luckily, it was fairly short-term, although he kept upping the dosage. If this had gone another day or two, well, it'd be an entirely different story. She's lucky she was able to focus as well as she did, although I guess she was a little mercurial personality-wise. Most people would have been bouncing off the walls, for lack of a better description. The ordeal put a great deal of stress on heart and lungs, not to mention the chemical imbalance her system is trying to correct, in addition to battling the virus. We'll keep her sedated for a day or so, and she'll need to take it easy for a little while. It may seem the other extreme, but it will work." Carson nodded his approval at his 2IC's decision.
"I'm also guessing that coming off the drugs would not be a pleasant experience," added Carson. His 2IC nodded.
"She'll sleep through most, but not all of it, and she'll require close monitoring in the next twenty-four hours to make sure " he explained.
"If we survive this, I'll make her coffee everyday for a week," interrupted Rodney.
"If we live, I'll bring her breakfast in bed for a month," one-upped Colonel Sheppard. "Oops, that may be your domain, Carson," he added apologetically. Carson frowned, half-listening to the Colonel while he watched his team attach additional tubes and wires to the sleeping figure. There were one or two she wasn't going to be too happy about.
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A day later Carson could almost understand Colonel Sheppard's previous escape attempts from the infirmary. Even he wanted a few days away from the place, and this was his place of work. Capt. Richards and Dr. Kusanagi, not quite as ill to begin with, had already been released, although not cleared yet for duty. Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, and himself had been practically at each other's throats, hoping to prove themselves annoying enough to be released to their quarters. Carson realized with a start, he'd been on the receiving end of this a few times, and made a mental note to pay a little more attention the next time one of the two landed in the infirmary.
Finally he had taken the initiative and declared that they'd recuperate much better in their own quarters. He had changed out of scrubs, making an additional note to requisition some other color, and had returned, with the intent of catching up on paperwork. Instead he found himself staring at Dr. Randall. He didn't like seeing Kyte like this, small and helpless. He recalled the first time he'd seen her, tearing through the gate, muddy feet skidding across the floor, a determined look in her eye as she had outrun several Wraith, intent on proving herself and to protect those she had made an instantaneous decision to trust. He briefly wondered what had transpired with Dr. Mason, or if she had simply acted without thinking. There certainly enough that to go around.
"She really cares about everyone here. Feels grateful even," a Southern voice interrupted his thoughts. Carson turned to see Dr. Mason standing next to him. "She's always been kinked like that, loyal to her principles, felt she has a duty to protect, all part of some ancient code. A galloglass. Took a little more effort than I expected to convince to go through with this, but once I pointed out whose lives were on the line," he looked at Carson steadily. She would have died to save you."
A million thoughts raced through Carson's mind. "You twisted her sense of loyalty," he finally sputtered.
Dr. Mason nodded smugly. "As I told a few people, she was good, but she'd been thrown off the horse. Just needed to push the right buttons," he started to explain before a fist to the jaw cut him off.
"I was going to do that," protested Rodney behind him, "but nice shot," he added as Carson rubbed his hand and stared at the figure on the floor. His 2IC entered the room and surveyed the scene.
"We'd better look at that," he commented respectfully, taking his superior's hand to check for broken bones. "Too bad you didn't do a little more damage, a few people could use practice with starting IVs and suturing."
Carson reviewed paperwork and nursed his hand the rest of the day. He had to admit, he'd never been so happy to sleep in his own bed, although there was another he wouldn't be adverse to. When he entered the infirmary the following morning to minor cheers, he was heartened to hear Kyte was sleeping on her own and should wake up shortly, which she did. "How are you feeling," he asked, checking her reflexes as she squinted against the pen light in her eyes.
"Nothing a shower and coffee wouldn't fix. What idiot decided blinding a semi-conscious patient was a good SOP? Oh and tell me that someone's going to remove a few of these things," she gestured, "or I'll do it myself and it won't be pretty."
"Yes," Carson sighed to himself, she was heading back towards normal. That, and she'd picked up a few lines from the Colonel.
A little while later, Kyte was sitting up in bed, having compromised on a clean set of scrubs and removal of everything but the IV, left in to 'rebalance her electrolytes,' which she hadn't fought. Dr. Weir and Colonel Caldwell poked their heads in.
"Everyone owes you great debt," started Dr. Weir, "I heard you may be able to design a vaccine against something like this happening again."
"We'll at least be able to treat another occurrence much more quickly if there's been any variations in the viral template," nodded Dr. Randall.
"Do you think you'll be able to reverse engineer the virus to fight the Wraith," added Colonel Caldwell. "They had to be able to handle the virus without infecting themselves, right?"
Kyte seemed to pause for a moment before answering. "No."
"Actually, I recovered that file from your laptop," interrupted Dr. Mason, giving a nervous glance in Carson's direction. "Let me correct myself. I had that Czech guy do it." Caldwell stared at Dr. Randall with a look that said she'd better have a good explanation, or she'd be spending some quality time in the brig. Like several decades. Dr. Mason continued on. "I took the model you constructed and added the triggering sequences that I found in the database," he handed her the laptop, eager for approval.
Dr. Randall stared at the diagram for a moment. Her face went white and she crushed the glass in her hand, embedding small plastic shards in her palm. "Did you start synthesizing this?"
Dr. Mason nodded, suddenly scared. "I wanted to see if it was stable, spilled a little when I took it out, when I let the reaction run too long."
"Pinky, you idiot," she hissed before swearing in Gaelic. Carson winced. She knew a few words he didn't, and he guessed her outburst wasn't from the pain. "Find Colonel Sheppard and Teyla, hopefully they're ok, this didn't work."
"What's going on," demanded Dr. Weir.
"Ken doll here, resurrected and synthesized the reverse-engineered virus I designed, when I was trying to find a cure. Multi-tasking. Works the same way as what infected those with the ATA gene, seeking out specific sequences of DNA as a signal. I deleted the file because there was a fatal flaw or two that we don't have the data to solve.
"Fatal flaws," repeated Carson, not quite following the thread of the conversation, but growing alarmed.
"The only sequenced Wraith or Wraith-like DNA we have is from Teyla and the markers from the Iratus bug," explained Kyte.
"Which means the Colonel and Teyla could be infected," interrupted Carson.
"Yes," nodded Kyte, "and there's more. I kind of improved the efficiency of the virus." Now it was Carson turn to curse.
TBC
A/N: A galloglass was a servant or mercenary sworn to protect an Irish or Scottish chieftain with their life, particularly in battle.