Chapter 2 Life's Little Surprises
Things definitely went down hill from there. I would no sooner get to sleep, it seemed like, then someone would come to wake me again- and again- and again! Penlight to check how well my pupils were dilating, blood pressure, temperature, pulse, all checked. Then came the questions. The ones that they insisted I answer every time, the best I could, though I knew the answers couldn't be right. Not with the way they looked at me as the hours passed and my memory showed no improvement. I could see it all- the growing worry, the darting glances at each other, the muttered comments in medical-ese. Any attempt to demand answers met a solid brick wall. Built by a certain Scot, I had no doubt.
Finally, Beckett himself appeared to tell me there would be no more two hour wake-up calls. I was finally allowed to fall into the deep sleep that my body so craved...
When I next awoke, the infirmary was a bustle of activity. People scurried here and there, machines were moved around, and orders shouted. Two gurneys with still forms on them were pulled past me, and above it all came that distinctive Scottish brogue. Two people were standing near my bed, but paying attention to whatever was causing all the ruckus. One was the brunette I remembered laughing at me, but the other was a slightly pudgy, balding man that I didn't recognize. They were speaking quietly to each other, but I wasn't able to hear them over the noise. Then, as quickly as it started, the bustling stopped. Dr. Beckett appeared, hurrying toward us, so I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to still be asleep. Not an easy task when you're still hooked to a heart monitor.
"Elizabeth, Rodney. The Colonel still asleep?" Beckett, addressing the other two.
Wait a minute, what colonel?
"He is. I swear the man could sleep through a nuclear explosion! Did you know that he slept right through me yelling once?" That must be the man, and he sounded just a bit exasperated. I could hear just a hint of an accent, but couldn't quite place it. Minnesotan, maybe? No...
"Good. Rest is the best thing ta heal that concussion."
"It's been almost thirty hours, Carson! I didn't think even Sheppard could sleep this much!" The man sounded as if I were injured just to inconvenience him!
Whiny, sarcastic, this guy was a real winner! He seemed to be actually concerned about me, though.
"Rodney." The woman used a soft exasperation that made it clear she was used to this. "Carson, how are Sergeant Stackhouse and Captain Zhukov?"
"They should be just fine with time. Dr. Kirran is settin' the sergeant's arm now, and the captain was just stunned. Looked a lot worse than it was since head wounds always bleed a great deal. Kavanaugh better not come near here for a while, though!" The doc's voice was angry, accent actually thinning a little.
I wouldn't want to be in that guy's shoes! The doc sounds pissed.
Another person approached, their heavy military style shoes making them easy to track.
"Do we know what happened, exactly?" The woman again, tiredly.
"Yes, ma'am." The new person, clearly military. "I just debriefed Sergeant Stackhouse and Sergeant Lee. They came under attack from unknown hostiles on P451-900. Instead of deferring to the military personnel, Dr. Kavanaugh apparently tried giving his own orders. Stackhouse and Zhukov were injured while covering Lee, who was dragging the doctor back to the gate."
Gate? Hostiles? What the hell!
"Thank you, major."
I could hear the steady march as the unidentified major left. This was making no sense whatsoever.
"Dr. Weir, I'm makin' a formal request that...the doctor..." The disdain almost dripped from Dr. Beckett's words as he decided on a title, "be restricted from all off-world missions pending a review. The man's a bloody menace!"
OOOh! Very unhappy doctor! Wait a minute...
"Off-World!" I didn't actually mean to say that aloud. My eyes flew open to find myself surrounded by the others.
"Just how mucha that did ya hear, Colonel?" Dr. Beckett eyed me suspiciously.
"Colonel!" That one jolted me into a sitting position, in spite of the resulting explosion in my head. While I waited for the room to quit spinning, I felt the top of the bed come up to support me.
"Easy now, it'll pass in a minute. Just rest back against the pillow, son... I'm sorry. I shoulda been watchin' what I said." The brogue was somehow reassuring, familiar, in spite of what I'd just heard.
Soon, I was able to open my eyes again, immediately looking to the woman- Dr. Weir- for answers. Her brown eyes met mine for a long moment, then nervously dropped.
"You don't know who I am, do you John?" She whispered that so low I almost didn't hear it.
"No. But I do know that this sure as hell ain't Antarctica, and last I checked, there were bets on how soon I'd get busted back to captain, not make colonel !"
Somehow that seemed to reassure her. Straightening, her authority settling on her like a cloak, she stared straight back at me. "Lieutenant Colonel, actually, and the military commander of this facility. Which make you second-in-command to me of this entire expedition."
Oh shit. Just how much of my memory was I missing!
Unfortunately, when I asked that question aloud, the doc was immediately shaking his head.
"No. No more. I want him to remember as much as possible on his own. Amnesia can-"
"Make someone really cranky! This is my life and I want to know what the hell is going on!"
Not exactly polite, but the man shouldn't be playing games with me.
I fixed him with my best glare, guaranteed to have errant airmen quaking in their boots. As the silence lengthened, tense, the other man- Rodney- spoke for the first time since I had shown I was awake.
"Ah, Carson. I don't mean to butt in on your voodoo, but... Do you really want to try corralling an awake, confused, irritated, ignorant, and determined Sheppard in your infirmary!"
Okay, so maybe the guy wasn't so bad after all. At that point, I was willing to take any help I could get. A strangled cough turned my attention to Dr. Weir. Once again, the woman was trying desperately to stifle a laugh! With a disgusted eye roll, the doc gave in.
"You do have a point, Rodney. Answerin' some basic questions now might help stimulate memory recall, too. Colonel, this is Dr. Rodney McKay and Dr. Elizabeth Weir. As fer where ya are..."
"Can we show him? Using a wheelchair, of course, and only for a few minutes." Weir glanced inquiringly at Beckett and I held my breath. Something told me this was a suggestion that I wanted him to agree with.
Off-world? Just what have you gotten yourself into this time, John ol' boy?
"Colonel? Son!" A hand on my shoulder got my attention. With a start, I realized that Beckett had been addressing me.
"Sorry, doc, I'm just...I'm not used to answering to that rank yet."
"Aye, I can understand that. How are ya feelin', exactly? None o' your lies, either!"
Lies? Lying to a doctor who is only trying to help me? Would I do that? Oh, wait. Yes, I would.
"If ya didn't seem like such a nice guy, I'd be insulted, doc. I'm good, really. Dizziness is gone and even my headache is mild."
"Mild fer you, colonel, is often migraine proportions for anyone else! Your pain threshold is so high it can be bloody dangerous! Alright, I'll let ya take a short trip."
I was so eager to get some answers that I didn't even object to the wheelchair. Much. It helped that I wasn't in one of those humiliating hospital gowns, instead wearing a set of red surgical scrubs. The doc fussed for a bit, checking everything, spreading a blanket over my lap, but finally gave the go ahead. Good thing, too. I was about at the end of what little patience I had left. Surprisingly, it was Dr. Weir herself who started pushing me, as well as starting the explanation.
"In the 1920's, an archaeological team in Giza uncovered a huge stone ring with symbols on it. Some sort of massive alien device. It took until the mid-1990's for anyone to figure out- reliably- how it worked. Scientists working in conjunction with the United States Air Force found out that it was part of a transportation system between worlds. They were built a millennium ago by an advanced race of humans known as the Alterrans, or Ancients. We call them Stargates. Unfortunately, many of the aliens we met when explorations through the gate started weren't exactly friendly. In order to find more of the technology left behind by the Ancients, including weapons to help defend Earth, this expedition gated to another galaxy. We've been here for two years, now."
Another galaxy! Travel to other worlds! Beam me up, Scotty, I'm trapped in a science fiction show!
"You're not kidding, are you?" The question came out as a strangled whisper, my mind unable to truly process everything I'd just been told.
"No, John, I'm not kidding." Weir answered me soberly as we moved through the graceful, alien halls.
It was only then that I noticed that Doc Beckett and Mr. Annoying were trailing along behind us. Waiting just ahead, in front of what looked like a floor to ceiling stained glass window, were two more people. They were the most unlikely pair I'd ever seen.
The man was tall, well over six feet, with dark hair in long dreadlocks loosely tied back over his shoulder. A short beard, scowling expression, and brooding eyes nicely completed the picture. He looked to be casually leaning against a wall, waiting, but my gut told me that was definitely a deception. This hulking man was dangerous, a fighter.
In contrast, his companion was a polar opposite. She was a petite, sunny smiling woman with rich long honey brown hair and a bronze skinned complexion. She was in a word, beautiful. More importantly, though, was the sense of peace and calm that seemed to permeate her, soothing any in her presence.
"John! You are looking much better than when I saw you last night!" Her warm, full voice matched her appearance well.
Place can't be all bad if I have two beautiful women both calling me John.
Sheppard Rule of Thumb: If you don't know how to respond, try humor.
"Thanks. So where are we, anyway? The Lost City of Atlantis?"
Ooooh-kaaaay. Stunned silence was not the response I had been expecting. Before I could question it, the 'window' proved to be a door, sliding aside to reveal a balcony overlooking-
"Holy shit!" It was a whisper. Ignoring hands and protests, not to mention a spinning head, I stood up out of the chair and limped to the railing. Spread below me, so massive I wasn't sure of the exact scale, was part of a glittering city. It sat -floated?- on a vast ocean, stretching as far as the eye could see. A cool, salty breeze blew against my face, reminding me of visits to the beach as a child. Hanging onto the rail tightly, I looked up behind me to see a massive central tower rising, like the main candle on a birthday cake.
Atlantis indeed.
The moment I thought that, I felt...peace, welcome, belonging, everything I had been missing for so long. My headache vanished, taking the slight vertigo and nausea with it. Strength washed though my shaky limbs and I let go of my death grip on the railing. Somehow, at that moment, it no longer mattered that I couldn't remember these people or this place. Everything just felt right, in a way I had never experienced on the ground before.
Things would be fine.