Chapter 1

"Things are quiet today, aren't they?" Dr Jose Morales said as he breezed into the infirmary.

Every other member of Atlantis' medical team threw things at him. Little pieces of paper, a couple of pencils and half a powerbar were immediately airborne and on an intercept trajectory with the newest member of staff. Various shouts of "You did it now," and "You had to say it," were called out from around the room.

Carson Beckett took his new doctor by the elbow. "Lad, you know that it's bad luck to say MacBeth in a theatre?" he said as he wiped the remains of the powerbar off the youngster's shoulder. The boy nodded. "Well, in most medical places I've worked, the 'Q' word is considered…"

They were interrupted by the radio.

"Emergency quarantine procedures, all staff clear the gate room. This is not a drill. Medical team to Control."

Someone said "There!"

Carson muttered to himself. Just bloody typical. He'd cleared the infirmary, and he was looking forward to a qu… peaceful day catching up on some research. Instead, he'd have to get dressed up in the dreadful hazmat suit. He had pulled it out of the locker before the message began to repeat. "Emergency quarantine…"

"Right, right, I'm coming," he said to the radio.

Of course, it wasn't poor Jose's fault. Carson knew who was to blame. The duty roster was posted in the infirmary coffee room. There were two teams out at the moment. Lorne had been out since yesterday evening, and Sheppard and company had left in the early hours.

Carson would put good money on which of the two was up to mischief at the moment.

The other members of the emergency team were ready. Carson lifted his mask over his head. Two of his intensive care nurses stood beside the trolley, while Jose fiddled guiltily with the crash bag.

"Ok folks, shall we go and see what Sheppard's got himself involved in this time?"

-

Weeks of drill meant the emergency procedures went off without a hitch. Carson and his suited-up team arrived in the Gate Room as the last of the personnel were cleared out. He took up position on the left side of the gate, and winked at Jose, who looked nervous as hell.

The first person through the event horizon was Sheppard. He was closely followed by McKay, Teyla and Ronon taking up the rear. Their expressions varied from Teyla's worried face to Rodney's look of terror. Sheppard looked mildly annoyed.

Carson said "Hi," even as he began running scans with his handheld.

Sheppard waved, and smiled.

The initial survey indicated there was no reason to suspect any immediate danger to the new arrivals. He directed them to the main doors. "If you would you like to come with me," Carson said, and he led the little procession through the cleared corridors to the quarantine area of the infirmary. It was a strangely silent team which followed him. There was none of the usual banter. Rodney didn't complain once, didn't say a word. The doors opened up for them; and Carson took this as a good sign after the incident with the nanite virus.

-

"So what exactly happened?" Carson asked once they were safe in the quarantine area and he had satisfied himself that there was no medical urgency.

"We arrived at …" John looked across at Teyla, "What was it they called it?"

"The Padanarams call their village Reliquary."

John nodded. "Like where you keep relics. We arrived, and were going to meet the bosses to get the supplies, when this guy runs up and tells us to get away. Turns out they've got a sickness in the village and they've been stopping people coming and going."

"And you saw the people who were affected?" Carson asked as he stuck a needle into John Sheppard's vein.

"They were sorta hard to miss. The one who came up to us seemed alright, but there were a lot of closed doors, and a couple of people getting carried off somewhere. We had a chance to speak to Teyla's contact before she told us to leave"

"Her name is Rina," Teyla added. Jose was taking some of her blood. "A number of their children have become ill."

Carson nodded as he stuck a band-aid over John's venepuncture site.

"Can you tell me any details about the sickness?" Carson asked as he made his way to his least favorite part of post-mission checkups. He told his staff he wouldn't let anyone else do it because he enjoyed it so much and they laughed. He always left it until last...

Rodney MacKay.

"What more do you want?" Rodney demanded. Carson took his arm, and found 'his' vein. They were on good terms, Carson and this vein. It was a mark of how agitated Rodney was that he didn't pull away or make a fuss about being 'bled.' Thank goodness for small mercies, Carson thought. Vampire jokes just became so tiresome. "People start coughing," Rodney continued. "They feel sick and then they die. End of story. It's not a good holiday resort."

"What's the incubation period? And the symptoms and recovery rates?"

"No idea, coughing then death, and not many." Rodney ticked off the answers to Carson's questions. "Are you finished?"

Teyla glared at McKay. She said patiently, "I have visited with these people on many occasions, Doctor. Rina tells me that the disease has only been present in the village for a few days. Initially only a few young ones became sick, and some of them have become well again, but now others have become unwell, and many have died."

She looked across to Sheppard, who shrugged, and gestured for her to continue.

"The disease starts with a cough, which quickly becomes moist. There are muscle aches and fever. Soon the affected are almost comatose and unable to eat or drink. Some of the young and fit have recovered, but most of those who became ill have died."

Carson took mental notes. "How long were you in proximity of the villagers?"

"Does it matter?" Rodney exploded, and pulled his sleeve back down roughly. "We've been in the Plague Village, we've breathed in air full of their viruses and we're all about to die." He began pacing up and down the infirmary.

There were days when Carson thought he should have specialised in pathology. The patients don't talk back to pathologists.

"Rodney, there is no way to know if the organism that caused this infection is airborne," he said carefully. "There are other more likely explanations."

"Such as what?" There was still anger in Rodney's voice, but also a hint of desperation.

Carson became aware that all the members of the team were watching him.

"If the population lives in primitive conditions," he shrugged in apology to Teyla, who nodded at him, "the most likely vectors are fecal-oral spread, like hepatitis A."

"That's just gross, Carson."

"Then it may be blood borne spread, or an insect vector."

"So we may not be about to die?" Rodney said with obvious relief. He stopped pacing and sighed. "You understand why I would think so, after the, you know…" He waved his hands vaguely, and Carson nodded.

"Aye, lad, I do."

"Well, that's fine then." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "I'll be in my lab if you…"

Carson sighed. Yes, pathology would have been good. "Not so fast. I'd like to keep you all in quarantine from the rest of the base until the bloods are back."

"What?" Rodney turned from the exit. "You said…"

Carson was about to explain, again, when Sheppard took pity on him. "Rodney. The man said that he doesn't know how this illness might be spread. So until then, we'll just do as he says and go visit some nice quiet out of the way balcony and be quarantined." Sheppard put his arm around McKay's shoulder and lead him out the rear entrance of the infirmary. He winked at Carson and mouthed, "I'll keep him busy."

Carson breathed in relief. He counted Rodney as a friend, but god, he could be an annoying bugger.

"The same for you two," Carson told his two remaining patients.

Teyla and Ronon looked at each other.

"Doc," Ronon started, and then paused. "Is that quarantine?" He waved at the door Sheppard and MacKay had exited.

"That's it."

"I'd like to wait here."

"As would I," Teyla agreed.

Carson couldn't help smile. Given the choice, he'd let Sheppard handle McKay in that mood too. The infirmary was undoubtedly quieter.

Ronon relaxed back on the bed and closed his eyes. Within seconds the sound of snoring filled the infirmary. Carson watched with a hint of jealousy. He'd like to learn that trick. He added some more information to his PDA

Teyla did not relax. She came to stand at Carson's shoulder, a slightly distracting presence. She remained silent as he punched blood pressure readings into the files for each of the team members, and said nothing as he scribbled Rodney's name onto the little vials of blood.

She had the patience of a diplomat. She certainly had more patience than Carson.

"What is it, lass?" he finally asked.

She looked at the sleeping form of Ronon, then to Carson. "I wondered, Doctor, if there is anything I can do for the people in that village. Rina is an old friend, and they are worried and scared."

He'd expected this conversation. If she hadn't asked him, he would have inquired himself. "I'd need samples from the villagers, and from the surrounding area; water, foodstuffs and the like. And I'd need to know more about the symptoms of the disease."

"Very well. If you provide me with instructions, I shall fetch you what you need."

"I don't think Elizabeth would be keen on us mounting an expedition to the 'Plague Village'."

"I would be happy to go on my own, Doctor."

Carson smiled. He suspected he was being manipulated by a devious young woman, then decided it didn't matter. "I couldn't let you do that, Teyla. I'd need to see the villagers and get some of the blood samples."

"You would be risking infection."

He shrugged. "That is what hazmat suits are for."

"Thank you for your offer, Doctor," she smiled that wonderful smile that made him go weak at the knees. "I'm sure Rina and her village will be most grateful."

"Aye, well we haven't saved them yet."

-

SGA

-

"I just don't like plagues, and diseases and sickness and stuff. It's not my fault if I have bad memories of them," Rodney McKay said as he strode towards the door to the infirmary. He turned, and started in the other direction. "I mean, it's not like I can't handle myself, it's just that if I get a cold it's like that," a snap of the fingers, "and I'm laid up for weeks." He reached the balcony, pivoted and marched back in the same direction he had come. "And then there's the vomiting and the coughing and the dying and the hallucinations and…"

"Rodney," Sheppard said.

"…and the whole waiting to die thing. I'm just not good at it." He turned to pace back to the door again. "That's Carson's specialty, and it's not science, it's this woolly thing where…"

"Rodney."

"…you just make it up, and stab people and stick needles. It's not that I'm not grateful…"

John was beginning to become annoyed. "Rodney!"

The torrent of words stopped, and Rodney turned to face Sheppard. "Well, excuse me for panicking, but it's a perfectly reasonable…"

"McKay. Stop talking."

Rodney opened his mouth to speak, closed it and opened it again. Sheppard glared at him.

McKay closed his mouth again with a snap and continued to pace.

John enjoyed the moment of comparative silence. The day was pleasant, with a gentle wind rousing the ocean to white horses. A gentle flack-flack sound drifted from an untied cable knocking the wall. There was music from an opened window some decks below. It seemed someone had brought a violin as part of their personal allowance.

He tried to filter out the noise of McKay's agitated pacing. Why couldn't the man just relax?

"Don't let me interrupt you," Rodney started again. That had been a whole twenty seconds of peace, "and I hate to remind you that we could be facing imminent death from an unknown alien contagion, and you just sit there?"

There was no pause, so John couldn't have answered. He knew the question was rhetorical anyway.

"Do you think Carson will know soon, and let us out of here? Because if we're going to die, there are things I need to tell Zelenka to check. There's a spill-over from the third generator that needs to be re-calibrated… and I had some thoughts about improving the efficiency of the ZedPM if we use it to boost the…"

John filtered the words out. He concentrated on the sound of the waves below and the warmth in the sun. There was hardly any time nowadays to sit and enjoy the ocean and the clement weather. He would have to call Weir soon, and officially debrief. It wouldn't be the first time he'd reported from the infirmary, but at least this time it wasn't because one of his team had been injured.

Although the way Rodney was going, a black eye wasn't out of the question.

He checked his watch. The rant had lasted seven minutes so far. He'd planned to give the scientist ten minutes to work the panic out, but he wasn't sure either of them could last that long. Rodney was getting very close to either the black eye or a self-induced coronary.

"…not that they're not qualified, of course, but they haven't been around as long as the others, and they come here with their theories that worked in simulations and their convinced will work in reality. If I die, then someone's going to have to make sure they don't run all their little experiments and blow up the north pier…"

Time for the ace card, John thought. "What was it Zelenka said this morning about a more efficient search program for the database?" he asked idly.

McKay stopped pacing to stare. "What?"

"This morning at the briefing, you were arguing with Radek about how to improve the database searches. He said that it if you created algorithms of the main criteria you could search more effectively. You said no."

Rodney looked baffled. It was one of John's favorite Rodney-expressions. "I know what Zelenka said. I just have no idea why you would choose to bring it up at this moment."

John shrugged in pretended ignorance. "It was bothering me."

"Well, the idea's fine in principle," Rodney began. "It's the application that falls apart. Designing the programming would be a couple months of work, without a guarantee that the search would be any more accurate or more thorough…"

He dropped firmly into lecture mode. His hands were out of his pockets and the unconscious gestures were in full flow.

"I don't know if you are aware, Colonel, that although we have access to the entire Atlantis database, it is so enormous that we often can't find the information we want when it's necessary, or until the system alerts us to processes that are ongoing."

"Like the deep space sensors?"

"Yes, exactly like the deep space sensors," McKay answered with typical irritation at being interrupted. The fact that they had been unaware of the sensors for months was still a sore point. "Part of the problem is nomenclature, the fact that we call things by different names. What we call sanitation, the Ancients called removal. Deep space sensors are in a system that translates 'to hear.'"

"So…" John prompted.

"So, unless we understand how the Ancients thought, and how they named their main systems, we're in the dark. Zelenka's idea was to identify areas of interest according to their physical location in the database, but the storage system is a web. It would be possible to find the connections, but the algorithms would take ages to construct without a guarantee that the search would be any more effective. We just can't spare the time."

"And let me guess; only you or Zelenka could program these algorithms?"

"Obviously." Rodney shrugged. "No one else knows the whole system, and everyone else has their own area of expertise…" He stopped mid sentence. He had his hand raised, and slowly he pointed a finger.

John leaned forward. This was it. Genius at work.

"If we trace the particular operator…" Rodney muttered. "We could link systems that particular Ancients were working on." He thrust his hand out to John and clicked his fingers. "Radio."

John handed his spare one over without question.

McKay grabbed it and stuffed it in his ear. "Zelenka," he demanded. "Come in."

There was a pause.

Rodney snapped an answer to the unheard reply. "Yes, yes, you can moan about being interrupted later. Of course if you'd rather not discuss the solution to the search routines…" He crossed his arms.

John settled back against the wall and smiled.

"I told you that would take too long, but rather than searching the contents of the files, we should cross-reference the authors of the reports."

If it were possible, McKay looked even more smug.

"I know it's a damn good idea. I thought of it, didn't I?"

There was another pause as Zelenka answered.

"Quarantine's just a precaution, what with the whole 'Plague Village' thing. Yes, we're all alright."

Sheppard closed his eyes to enjoy the sun. Yes, they were alright now.

"Now, Zelenka, are you sitting at a console?"