Chapter 3: The Fallacy of Optimism
Everything will be fine. No problem. Just dandy. Yeah, right, tell yourself another one, John.
It had been three days since I was first introduced to the city of Atlantis. Three long, boring days, confined to a bed in the infirmary. Now, I was finally free. Not that I was supposed to be going very far, mind you. Just to my quarters...wherever the hell that was. The doc had given me some pretty precise directions after I'd repeatedly turned down the offer of an escort, but I'd obviously taken a wrong turn somewhere.
So here I was, completely lost, and not about to ask anyone for directions. I was a pilot, for crying out loud! I was used to determining my location from the terrain flashing by below me, and that was often pretty featureless, so how could I possibly lose my way in a handful of corridors!
Carefully, I retraced my steps to the T-junction. On my left was a corridor and to the right was another ornate door masquerading as a stained glass window. I was certain Beckett had told me left, but something inside me said right. An unrelenting pressure in my head, pushing me... An effect of the concussion? Or my subconscious trying to allow a memory to break through?
I sure hope its the latter. Alright then, right it is.
Decision made, I turned, walked through the door, which opened automatically for me, and... found myself in an alien closet. Lovely. With a sigh, I spun around, hoping to exit before anyone saw me, and had to close my eyes against another dizzy spell. Straightening back up with a stern mental reminder to take it slow, I walked back out- only to find myself somewhere other then where I'd started.
Damn! Stupid alien city in some galaxy I've never heard of! How'd I get here, anyway? Me! Mr. Obscure Major exiled to the most remote base in the world. Why would anyone pick me to head up the military on what has to be the craziest, most desperate Hail-Mary expedition of all time?
I had tried asking that to everyone I could, of course, but no further explanations had come, which was one of the reasons that the last few days had been so boring. People came to see me, but when I started with the questions, most grew very nervous and beat a hasty retreat. The sheer volume had been pretty startling, actually. I'd never been one to let many people close to me, especially since Afghanistan...
I jumped as someone touched my elbow. Looking up, I realized that I had wandered into a large room full of people. Dr. Elizabeth Weir was standing beside me, one hand on my arm and a concerned look on her face.
"John? Are you all right? I thought Carson had sent you to rest in your quarters."
Great, how do I explain this one?
Stalling for time, I made a show of observing my surroundings, hoping to think of a better answer than 'Colonel Sheppard can't follow directions.' Then, I walked to the rail and really did lose myself in awe, unable to help gawking.
I was on the second level of a large, circular room, lighted by multiple stained glass windows. All around me were alien consoles, which seemed to be made of glass and crystal. I had to resist the urge to put my hands into my pockets like a small child in a china shop. Hodge-podged in with the consoles, I noticed a number of very ordinary looking laptop computers with the Atlantis logo on the covers. Men and women were working quietly and conversing in at least three different languages, with at least six different national flags adorning the shoulders of their uniforms. Dr. Weir's and my American flags would have made seven.
Plus the Scottish doctor and the Canadian pain-in-the-ass. Wow! This really was an international mission.
"John? Why don't we talk in my office?" Weir jiggled my elbow a little to get my attention, then pointed to a glass walled room not far away. "You look like you need to sit down."
Boy did she have that right, 'cause I'd just seen it. A large, gray metal ring, the bottom sunk into the floor. On it, the dotted symbols which, in the correct combination, would open a gateway to another world. A handful of steps...
I wonder if it hurts? The greatest adventure humans could ever imagine lay through-
"-the Stargate." I didn't realize I'd said anything aloud until Dr. Weir answered me.
"Yes. Wait until you actually see it operational. Come on, just in here."
Taking me into the glass office, she pushed me down into a chair, sat down opposite, and waited.
Oh, what the heck, this woman's probably already seen me at my worst.
"I got lost. I thought Beckett told me to go left, but I kept feeling like I had to go right... I walked into this little room and the next thing I knew, I was here." I could feel my face flushing, and intently studied my hands in my lap, refusing to look up.
I'm such an idiot! Colonel in the US military? Suuuure.
The silence stretched uncomfortably long, finally bringing my head up, hazel eyes meeting brown ones. It seemed to be what she had been waiting for.
"Did it seem almost as if someone else was there, inside you, pushing?"
My jaw hit the floor. How had she known? Was I insane? I guess she took my utterly stunned look as a yes.
"You're not going crazy." She was good at mind reading, too. "It's how you've described it before when Atlantis seemed to be communicating with you."
Before...the operative word here. Before all my memories of this place went on vacation. I just hoped it was a short one.
"Atlantis? Commun- You mean the city talks to me!"
She shook her head, looking away as she obviously struggled to find a way to explain. "Not exactly. Atlantis isn't really alive, but she does run on a highly advanced computer that occasionally seems to contact you. All the people here who have the Ancient gene can interact somewhat with her, but you are the strongest. You do it naturally, even unconsciously."
"Is that why every time I wanted to sleep, the lights in the infirmary dimmed automatically?"
I'd first realized that the staff weren't doing it when Carson had been caught in the middle of the room by it and tripped over something, cursing loudly in Gaelic. The nurse on duty had steadfastly avowed her innocence. Dr. Weir must have heard about the incident as well, because I saw her lips begin twitching suspiciously.
"I'm afraid so. Doors will open automatically for you, too, instead of having to use the control panel like the rest of us. It's turned out to be quite an advantage for us several times."
Shit. An advantage, that's all I was. The apparent winner of some genetic lottery.
It wasn't hard for me to fill in what she hadn't said. I was there because of the gene. Somehow, command of the Atlantis military contingent must have been the price she paid to keep me. Nothing had really changed, in spite of the seeming friendship I'd seen so far.
"Nobody really trusts me. An accident of birth..."
Speaking thoughts out loud unintentionally seemed to be a bad habit I'd picked up lately. A gasp made me look up. Dr. Weir looked as if she had been abruptly hit with a two by four. Astonishment, horror, sadness, and anger all flashed across her face. My gut clenched. I wasn't sure what I had expected, but this certainly wasn't it.
"No! You are military commander because there is no one I'd rather work with, no one I trust more! The gene is irrelevant! Do you hear me, John Sheppard?"
Oh, I heard it, all right, and every instinct I had told me she was telling the truth. I could and did trust this woman.
Now, what was her first name?
"Yes, Elizabeth." The answer to her question, as well as my internal one, seemed to slip off my tongue before I could even think about it. Best of all, it felt right. The pressure that had led me here eased, then abruptly vanished, thankfully taking a large portion of my pounding headache with it. Now, I was just very tired.
"Good." She sat back, still watching me intently. "You look like you could use some rest. Why don't I show you where your quarters actually are? We wouldn't want you taking another wrong turn and winding up in the women's showers, now, would we?"
Ouch! This woman did not play fair! Honestly, though, I did want to rest. Elizabeth...and Atlantis...had given me a lot to think about.
Was this truly a place I could call home?
A week later, I still wasn't sure, and that was bad news- for everyone. As my strength returned and the dizzy spells eased, I had begun to explore this place, hoping to jar loose a few memories. It hadn't worked.
I also tried to re-establish relationships with the people around me. That hadn't been a whopping success, either. Before too long, almost everyone was carefully avoiding me rather then deal with my lack of memories. It hadn't been all their fault, either. The more time that passed, the more frustrated I became with the lack of progress. Frustration turned to anger. Anger, in turn, fueled the snapping and snarking at any within my vicinity. Dark Side indeed. Thank you, Yoda.
I was bored. Very, very bored.
Currently, I was sitting at a mess hall table, picking at the food I really had no intention of eating in spite of the doc's threats of what he would do if my appetite didn't return. The soft clatter of a tray being placed on the table directly across from me brought my head up.
"Is this seat taken?" Teyla Emmagen, Athosian leader, local guide, and a member of my team.
Words. That's all they were. Labels someone told me applied to this woman. There was no emotional content, no connection to a past I share with her.
She was staring at me expectantly, one eyebrow raised. "No, its fine."
"John...Your memories of the past two years have not begun to return."
"No, they haven't."
I wasn't exactly in a talkative mood, having just come from one of the required sessions with Atlantis' resident psychologist. Like most soldiers, I'd long ago learned the proper BS to give those docs, but it didn't mean I had to like it. I'll give Teyla this, she was persistent. No matter how long I sat there, silent, she didn't leave, either. When it finally appeared that we would still be there at Christmas, I finally gave in.
What is it with the women around here and being able to out stubborn me?
"It's been almost two weeks, Teyla. I'm beginning to doubt that anything will ever come back. And... Damn it, this is my life! No one will even tell me how I got hurt in the first place!"
Without thinking, my hand came down hard on the table, sending Teyla's juice and my own water sloshing. The lights in the room began blinking wildly, and the door whooshed open though no one was there. I flushed, ashamed at my sudden lack of control, but fortunately, we were alone at the moment. My companion didn't even flinch, just kept calmly staring at me.
"When this has occurred with my people, we do not isolate them. We tell them stories of what has been. If it aids the return of what was lost, excellent, if it does not, they still feel themselves to be a part of the community. Perhaps you should speak with Doctor Beckett about trying this approach?"
She made several very good points, and it opened a way for me to take control of the situation. Finally resolved to take this bull by the horns, I stood, knowing that I might actually be able to sleep that night.
Tomorrow...Tomorrow I'll meet with the doc and Weir, and we'll just see about this.
From the knowing smile on Teyla's face, this must have been exactly the reaction she was hoping for.
"Thank you, Teyla. I don't have to have my memories to know that I'm lucky to have a friend like you."
Just being in her presence had made me feel calmer, more in control.
"You are most welcome. I am always available to you should you need a friend, John. Have faith, everything happens for a reason."
I just couldn't let that one go, especially since I'd been forced to duck a certain pain all day. The man had finally left me alone when he was called to deal with some sort of massive power fluctuation.
"Oh, good. So maybe you can tell me the reason for an egotistical, annoying, insulting scientist who won't leave me alone?"
Apparently, I didn't even have to tell her who I meant, since a sparkle came into her eyes. "I fear only the Ancestors my answer that one, my friend."
Darn!