Of
Duty, Atonement, and Redemption—Chapter Nine
By
SGC Gategirl
xxx
For warnings, comments, summary, etc, please see part one.
xxx
Sitting back in his desk chair, Carson Beckett swore quietly under his breath in Gaelic knowing that if one of his nurses heard him they wouldn't understand anything he said—the phrases were certainly not designed for civilized company.
They'd run the tests several times already—some of them twice even—but this particular bugger was proving to be harder to diagnose than anything else they'd encountered.
It had similar characteristics to several viruses, but nothing was a direct match.
They were stumped.
There was no other way to say it. Between all of the doctors and researchers, they couldn't make sense of it one way or another. He still had teams working on the samples—some were doing DNA mapping while others investigated its structure, and another team compared its symptoms and tried to track its course and path through populations.
Carson knew Elizabeth wanted a report, but there was nothing new to tell her—yet.
They'd figure it out. They just needed more time.
xxx
"We need to take as much as we can," Radek Zelenka said, glancing over his shoulder, back toward the door where Ronon, Teyla, and Colonel Sheppard still stood, gaping at the storage room before them. Refocusing on the shelving before him, he shifted his glasses higher on his nose and stepped forward, his hands reaching out toward the nearest device.
It was like a dream come true. Rodney would be so jealous.
"Wait!"
Pulling his hand back suddenly at the shout, he looked toward Sheppard as an exasperated and angry expression flashed across the other man's face, only to be replaced by his professional mask.
"What? We need to decide which devices to collect for further study. I cannot do that simply by guessing."
Sheppard moved forward, his hand clutching his weapon, the knuckles turning white. "Isn't there any way to figure out what's on the shelves before any of us touch anything? Who knows what's in here. You said this was a weapons development center. I'm guessing most of this stuff probably doesn't need the ATA gene to be activated."
"Yes, Rodney surmised as much from the information in the database," Radek nodded, a finger tapping against his temple as his mind worked on the Colonel's question. The information was probably stored in the main database that he was downloading, but he didn't want to interrupt the process incase this was the only chance they had to gain that data. His eyes drifted around the room until they found a panel embedded in the wall, off to the side of the room, but not too far from the door. "Colonel," he said moving toward the object, "I believe this may help us. Can you open?"
"What?" He moved alongside Radek, Ronon and Teyla hovering just behind.
"You are the only one with ATA gene and since this is a secure facility, I doubt I will be able to pry the panel open with bare hands. I also do not relish bloodying fingernails."
He rolled his eyes, but shifted his weight, his hands rising to poke hesitantly at the panel, the tips of his fingers barely touching the surface.
"A more firm hand, Colonel, may be required. Scientists do not caress their equipment."
Radek was rewarded by a sharp glance from Sheppard, but he began to apply himself, muttering something under his breath that wasn't loud enough for Radek to catch. Shaking his head, he ignored the Colonel, watching instead as the other man felt around the outside of the panel, digging his nails in against the seam. A few beats later, he closed his eyes for a moment and moved his hand to the top. A click sounded throughout the room and the panel slowly opened revealing a smaller version of one of the control consoles, complete with screen and an Ancient command keyboard.
"Pomalé kolísání," he muttered as it lit up under Sheppard's touch. This technology never failed to amaze him. Glancing up to the Colonel with a grateful smile, he continued. "Thank you, I believe I can manage from here."
"You can read Ancient?"
"Enough to get by for now," he replied absently, already paging slowly though the screens of information. "The translation program on the computer would be beneficial; however, it is currently engaged in a more important activity."
Squinting at the screen, he nodded to himself. "I believe all the devices stored here are in a complete shut-down mode. They will not activate until someone with the ATA gene gives the power-up command. We should be safe in transporting them."
"How many do you want to bring back?" Ronon asked, finally pushing forward, his arms crossed over his large chest as he let his eyes roam around the room. He might appear casual, but Radek knew the man could kill him in several most creative ways in less than five seconds. Upsetting Ronon was not on his to-do list.
"As many as we can," he replied, half glancing over his shoulder as he tried to find the main index for the storage room. The Ancients always has redundant systems.
"That's why we brought the extra cases and packs," Sheppard answered, patting the other man on his back, standing beside him to survey the room in a similar manner.
"It's gonna take more than a few trips," Ronon commented solemnly without a hint of complaint or condemnation, more as a matter of fact.
"Colonel," Radek said a few minutes later, breaking the silence. "If you are ready, I believe I can direct you from here."
"To do what?"
"Take the objects off the shelves, of course. Preferably, in your case, without activating them."
An overly dramatic hurt expression crossed the other man's face. "Me?"
Rolling his eyes, Radek nodded as he turned to the console. "Let's start in aisle one."
xxx
"What part of 'no' did you not understand the first ten times I told you?" Rodney McKay asked as he stormed down the hallway, his face holding a thunderous expression. Shifting the heavy pack on his back, he waved his hand in front of the transporter door panel. He'd finished the work in the belly of the beast only to have to run clear to the end of the north pier to fix something else, quickly followed by a trip to the south pier. Was everything waiting to brake all at once?
Sighing loudly, he stepped into the small space, jabbing his finger at the transporter location closest to his quarters as the man on the other end of the conversation continued at full steam. A few seconds of transport wasn't about to make any kind of difference. Besides, Kavanaugh enjoyed listening to himself talk.
Stepping out on the other end, sure enough, the scientist hadn't shut up and Rodney hadn't missed anything important. For as long as McKay had known the man, Kavanaugh had never approached that state of silence or wisdom—nor was he likely in the near future.
Rolling his eyes, he cut into the scientist's monologue. "No matter what you think about my parentage or your supposed pedigreed genes, I'm still in charge of the science department and the answer is still 'no'. Anything that involves one of your experiments and a naquadah generator will forever be banned on Atlantis. I'm even considering banning you from using D-sized batteries. We both know what happened the last time."
The other man's voice steadily rose, claiming favoritism, despotism, and several other things Rodney tuned out. It was easier that way. Letting the man rant, McKay swung into the deserted mess hall, grabbing whatever food he could get his hands on. PowerBars for lunch, dinner, and two snacks left him craving something else. A minute later and he was headed back into the hallway and to his quarters. It was nearly 0100 and he was dead tired.
Besides, from the snippets of reports he'd heard while traipsing across Atlantis, Sheppard's team had struck pay dirt on their mission, requesting two jumpers to aid in the retrieval of Ancient equipment. Two of the marines had headed through shortly afterwards. He'd directed them to place everything in one of the science department storerooms that could be locked down.
If he was expected to start researching and sifting through the items they were bringing back, he needed more than two hours of sleep—not that he'd get more than that realistically, not with the nightmares he still had. He knew he should probably talk to Heightmeyer, maybe convince her to talk to Carson to give him something to help him sleep, but after everything, talking to someone about what was going on his head was the last thing he wanted to do.
Besides, it wasn't as if anyone really cared that he wasn't sleeping.
As he approached his quarters, Rodney could tell Kavanaugh was beginning to wind down. Another minute or two and the rant would be over.
Sure enough, just as Rodney was swinging his pack off his back and onto his desk, the scientist's words slowed down to a crawl before halting altogether. Putting his hands on his hips, Rodney waited for the silence to grow before he finally replied.
"Listen very carefully because I'm only going to say this once. If you can put together a decent proposal—taking into account any and all possibilities of success and failure—I'll consider your request. I'm going to tell you now that the only way this project of yours will get off the ground is if it's checked and double-checked by someone I approve. And even then, I'm not going to guarantee anything. Now, find someone else to pester. I'm going to bed. McKay out."
Yanking the radio from his ear, he dropped it on his desk next to his pack and stretched, his hands above his head. Eyeing his laptop, he knew he should probably check his email messages, but that could wait until later in the morning.
Stumbling across the room as he pulled clothing from his body, his shirt and jacket falling into a pile on the floor, he slumped onto his bed, dragging his feet from his boots and socks, his nose twitching at the smell. He hated the military-issue footwear, but down in the bowels of Atlantis, the thick soles were a much better insulator than his usual hikers. Besides, you never know what you might step in down there, and he'd hate to ruin his favorite shoes.
His pants came off last, joining the pile on the floor. With a sigh he fell back into his bed, sliding under the covers. Mentally he locked his door down and turned off the lights.
Tomorrow there were Ancient devices to discover.
xxx
Shrugging out of his dusty and dirty BDUs, John Sheppard remembered why he'd become a pilot in the first place. No heavy lifting.
Stretching carefully, he tried to get some of the cricks and cramps out of his muscles. It really wasn't hard work, carefully carrying and arranging the devices, but that much continuous bending and lifting wasn't good for anyone—and he didn't care how fit you were. That was the reason man made hand-trucks and carts and wheelbarrows. He just wished they had some of those.
They'd spent the past twelve hours trafficking Ancient artifacts to and from the base and Atlantis using two jumpers.
Radek had been in his element, yelling and shouting in various languages, some of them John didn't recognize, directing everyone—all five of the pack mules—where to go, what to do, and what, under no circumstances, not to drop.
They took him fairly seriously when one of the larger pieces nearly slipped out of Ronon's hands and Radek turned white.
Thankfully, there had been a slew of people waiting back on Atlantis to unload everything, but Radek had sent ahead strict orders—which Sheppard had asked Lorne to enforce: Absolutely nothing was to go into the science labs until McKay looked it over.
He'd been…concerned at first, but after Radek glared at him and then proceeded to jabber at him in high-speed Czech, he'd given up, letting the order stand. Once Radek got back to Atlantis he'd be at McKay's side during the initial evaluation process. Thankfully, the laptop that had the database loaded onto it had gone over in the first transport.
Hopefully, McKay would take the time to look it over before he just started turning things on. But that wasn't entirely fair, John knew. When McKay's ego wasn't in the way he was usually careful with alien technology—whatever it was. That whole self-preservation thing he had going. The stuff they found usually never worked the way they thought it did in the first place and, unfortunately, they'd learned that the hard way.
Wandering into his bathroom, he turned the shower on before he dropped all of his clothes in a pile on the floor. As the steam filled the room, he groaned as he rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension and the soreness.
The hot water felt marvelous when he finally stepped in, and with his forearms up against the wall, he leaned in, putting his head against his arms as he let the water pound against his back, loosening him up, relaxing him.
He let his mind drift, the water washing away more than just the dirt and grime and pent-up tension. As much as he wanted to just stop thinking, however, thoughts kept surfacing. Thoughts he didn't want to be thinking. Thoughts about McKay.
He didn't want to admit it, but the mission today—the first one without the physicist—had been strange, unsettling—and John didn't like that. He knew going into this that there would be some kind of settling-in period, but he hadn't thought that it would be so noticeable. He'd forgotten about everything McKay did right—from playing with his various devices to figuring out quickly how and why they worked the way they did. Zelenka had done well, very well especially since he didn't have a lot of off-world experience, but in this galaxy a scientist in the field without the ATA gene could be a liability, and a big one at that.
That was something he hadn't considered before.
Forcing himself to relax and stop thinking, he sighed and leaned into the hot water, letting it caress his shoulders, the droplets pounding into the knots in his muscles, loosening them slowly, as if his body was refusing to let go of the stress and the tension. The streams of water ran down his back and cascaded over the curve of his buttocks before hitting the floor of the shower stall and splattering against the wall before it all swirled down the drain taking the dirt, dust, sweat, and grime with it.
He stayed under the powerful showerhead until his fingers wrinkled. Drying off in the chilly bathroom, goose bumps rising on his exposed skin, John quickly pulled on his boxers and t-shirt, before leaving his wet towel on the top of his dirty clothes pile. He'd deal with it later.
But even as he dropped into bed, his mind refused to totally slow down, continually running through the events of the day. Something had been missing, and the more he thought about it, the tenser he became.
He was torn.
He was still angry, very angry, with McKay for what he'd done, for the lives he'd risked—his own in addition to others—and the people he'd manipulated to get what he wanted. But then, there was a part of him that had finally realized what had been missing today: McKay's blisteringly wide grin he always wore when they found something they could use.
Today, they'd hit the mother load and he wasn't even there to brag about it.
Sighing, he rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position. He wasn't sure if it was the bed, his muscles, or his mind, but sleep was a long time in coming.
xxx
By the time Radek Zelenka managed to drag himself out of his bed and down to the storage rooms, it was obvious—due to the multitude of PowerBar wrappers and empty mugs—Rodney had been here for quite some time.
Did the man ever sleep?
Walking into the room, he let his eyes drift, still not believing what was in front of him. The teams, under Lorne's direction, had set up the room exactly as he'd requested, the metal shelving that had been brought from Earth ages ago finally coming in handy. The rows had been set up exactly as the hidden Ancient base, the items placed roughly where they'd been on the planet.
At least it would be a little easier when they started their examination, one less variable.
Rodney was hunched over his laptop—the same one Radek had taken to the planet yesterday—the fingers of his right hand tapping on the arrow keys while his left drummed on the edge of the desk.
"Rodney, how long have you been here?" he asked, dropping onto the empty stool next to the other man.
"Hmm? What?" Rodney glanced his way, more out of habit than anything, before turning back to the database information. Glancing over Rodney's shoulder, Radek noticed that the information was still in Ancient. Wonderful. Rodney hadn't even bothered with translation, instead jumping in with both feet. It also meant he was one of the few people who could actually read it.
"Rodney," Radek repeated once the other man settled back into silence. "What are you doing?"
"Reading, and you're interrupting."
Rolling his eyes, Zelenka shook his head. He needed more coffee to deal with this man, but he didn't think there was enough on base in order to accomplish that feat. "If you had translated the database I could help you."
"Why are you here?" With his forehead scrunching up in confusion, Rodney finally looked at him instead of through him. "I need to go through this entire database until I can even begin to start on the stuff you brought back." He waved his hand in a large arc behind him, apparently referring to the nearly full shelves. "It's going to take some time."
"That's what I was saying," Radek muttered. "If you get your head out of ass then perhaps you would hear what I am telling you."
Rodney's eyes widened, the reddened white showing around the blue. Surprisingly, though, he didn't comment. Instead, he straightened up, his hands bracing himself against the worktable.
Radek frowned. "Are you ill?"
"No. Should I be?"
"You have not attempted to tear head from shoulders. I am…concerned that you are not yourself."
Rolling his eyes, Rodney took a deep breath. When he finally replied, his words were sarcastic. "I was just doing as you so eloquently requested; listening to you."
Instead of speaking, Radek leaned back, crossing his hands over his chest as he took a good look at the man sitting beside him. If it was humanly possible, Rodney looked worse than he did twenty-seven some odd hours ago when he'd stormed out of the main lab claiming he couldn't concentrate.
Rodney's uniform was wrinkled and rumpled, the untucked shirt bunching up on his side, as if the tail was stuck in the waistband of his pants. Stubble lined his normally clean-shaven cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes were all the more pronounced due to the pallor of his face.
With a room full of Ancient devices, Rodney should be excited. Something did not add up.
Moving slightly, seemingly uncomfortable under Radek's gaze, Rodney's expression moved from arrogance to annoyance. "What?"
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing. What's wrong with you is the better question. Since when do you sit staring at someone with that….that calculating expression on your face?" Rodney's right hand waved in his direction, the movements sharp. After a pause, his fingers clicked quickly several times and he started inching back. "Wait a minute. I know. You're…you've been infested with some kind of alien disease that makes you ask fellow colleagues strange and unusual questions before you disembowel them and leave them for dead."
If Rodney didn't seem so serious, Radek would have laughed in his face.
"No, no, no. I am fine. Whole team is fine. I am merely concerned about the health of my friend who is also one of the biggest hypochondriacs in the Pegasus Galaxy, not to mention the one with the most active and pessimistic imagination." He paused, taking a deep breath before the other man could move too far away. Although, knowing what was in this room, it was going to be next to near impossible to pry Rodney away in the next few days. "Look," he began, pushing his glasses to the proper placement on the bridge of his nose. "This is not a small project and I hate to admit, but you are the best person to make initial examination of the Ancient devices. It is not a weakness to ask for help from a fellow scientist and friend if you are…worn out from other projects."
Rodney's slumped shoulders straightened. His voice was tense, clipped. "I'm fine."
"So, I should just leave you alone so you can work yourself until you drop from exhaustion?"
"I said I'm fine. If you want to help, help, and stop interrogating me about everything." Rodney turned back to the laptop, his hands reaching for the keys to continue his reading. "But you might as well go and do something else since I'm not going to even begin to look at anything until I go through this database."
"That'll take hours, if not days."
"It'll take what it takes."
"The science department will riot."
Rodney shrugged. "Isn't the first time, won't be the last. They'll learn to deal with disappointment. I certainly have."
Unsure how to respond, Radek kept his mouth closed. He watched his friend for several more minutes before he slid off the stool, moving quietly to the door. Rodney's voice made him pause just before he stepped into the hallway.
"As soon as I'm done I'll let you know."
Radek nodded, but Rodney was intent on the screen, never glancing up. His comment was the only kind of request for assistance Rodney would offer. Radek wasn't going to say no. "I will keep staff in line. However, I expect many bribes to win back my favor."
A quiet chuckle followed him into the corridor.
xxx
Carson Beckett glanced up from the PDA in his hands as one his nurses, Shelly Laurence, wandered past. The infirmary was quiet, thank goodness, so they'd been catching up on inventory. After everything that happened, he knew he needed to restock some items, but until he knew exactly what he had on hand, he was hesitant to place a request for supplies. For some reason, he didn't want 50,000 tongue depressors cluttering up his supplies closet. Unless he wanted to build something, they didn't do much good in large quantities.
Offering a smile and greeting, his expression quickly turned to a frown. "Shelly, are ye feeling all right?"
She paused, wiping her hand over her weary and pale face, pushing a few strands of her straight blond hair behind her ears. It looked like there was a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, catching a few of the fine hairs, making them stick to her skin. "Fine," she replied quickly. "Haven't been sleeping well, and it looks like it's finally catching up with me. I was actually thinking about asking you if it was okay for me to go and grab a nap since we're just doing inventory."
Placing his PDA on the shelf, he turned to her moving closer. She stepped back a few feet under his scrutiny.
"I'm fine, Doctor Beckett. Just a little tired."
He placed a hand on her elbow and ushered her into the main part of the infirmary. "Let me be the judge of that," he said, helping her climb up on the nearest bed, her legs hanging over the side, swinging slightly. He moved efficiently around the area, grabbing the few things he needed. There was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach he was trying to ignore, but as he began his examination, the feeling continued to grow.
"How long have you been feeling tired?" he asked, noting her elevated temperature on the page he'd pulled out. He'd add it to her file when he was done.
She shrugged with one shoulder, the other one held captive by Carson's blood pressure cuff. "A day or so. It's nothing, really."
"So an elevated temp and a low pressure is nothing?" he asked, the sound of the releasing Velcro loud in the large room.
At least she looked abashed, he thought, scribbling more notes. Her glands were a little swollen, she was experiencing general muscle weakness, and it seemed she was dehydrated.
"You been drinking enough water? Eating normally?"
Shelly sighed. "No and no."
He raised an eyebrow, giving her a disapproving look. "My nurses, of all people, should know how to take care of themselves."
"I haven't been hungry and my stomach's been off."
"Off?" he asked, his pen poised above her chart, fearing the answer to his next question. "Any vomiting?"
Shelly glanced away, letting out a long breath. "Not until this morning."
"Mo chreach," he said, the curse slipping out under his breath.
"What?"
Carson looked up, the muscles in his back tightening. "I think you may have caught what the Athosians have."
Her eyes widened. "But how? It's been a week, more than a week. This is just a cold."
"It must be from one of our patients on the mainland," he replied, rubbing a hand across his face. "And it looks like it has an incubation period of about a week and a half. Love, why don't you make yourself comfortable? It appears like you're gonna be my guest for a little while."
xxx
Running his finger down the list on the screen, Rodney McKay paused at a few entries, matching what he saw with his eyes with what he'd stored in his memory. No. That wasn't it.
He kept going, one eye on the list, the other on the open door. He'd had several visitors this morning, all scientists wanting to take a look at what Zelenka brought back. He was actually waiting for Elizabeth or Sheppard to show up. The last scientist who poked his neck in had nearly gotten his head loped off—verbally of course. Was it his fault the man was more "sensitive" than others?
They really needed to send people with thicker skins. He had no use for the crybabies. He was sure Brady had gone running to mom. At least, that's what he'd done the last three times something like this happened.
He knew it was in here. It had to be. If it wasn't he was royally screwed.
He kept looking.
On the eighteenth page of listings he found it. A one line entry. Small. Insignificant if you didn't know what you were looking for.
Tapping his finger against the screen, he rose quickly, his momentum taking him forward before his feet could catch up. Stumbling slightly, he caught himself on the edge of a shelf.
Maneuvering around the end of one shelving unit and the two stools, he moved deeper into the room, his eyes searching the hand-written notes along the way, marking each section with its appropriate Ancient designation. He was glad whoever put this stuff away could at least make a passable copy of the Ancient scrawl.
He stopped when he finally found the reference number, his hands already pulling the device from its place. Ripping the piece of paper from the edge, he tucked it into a pocket, yanking the remains of the double-sided tape from the metal, flicking it off of his fingers and onto the floor.
Quickly, quietly, he moved back toward the front of the room, pausing at the end of the aisle, looking to make sure he was still alone. Silence greeted him and he grunted, moving back to the computer and his pack, where he secured the small device, pulling the top closed.
He dropped onto the stool, his heart racing. He had it. Now, he just needed to figure out how to get it to work. Time was something he had in spades.
xxx
"Carson, I thought you said it wasn't contagious," Elizabeth Weir said, trying to keep her voice level and calm, even though she felt like this might be a good time to panic. A disease or virus that the Pegasus Galaxy inhabitants are having severe issues with had now infected Atlantis personnel with an outcome even her head doctor couldn't determine.
Wringing his hands a little, his face displayed much of the emotions that were running through him—concern, worry, chagrin, frustration. "I didn't think it would be, but of the four of us who went to the mainland, she's the only one feeling any ill effects."
"Nurse Matthews?"
"Is in the infirmary under Doctor Biro's watchful eye, but she's as fit as a fiddle."
"And you?"
He shrugged, his lab coat-covered shoulders slumping a little more. "Tired, but no more than usual. Have you heard from Major Lorne yet?"
Weir glanced down at her tightly clasped hands. "No. He's due to return in about an hour. Do you think it will make a difference either way?"
"No," he said, shaking his head wearily. "If he followed Shelly's symptoms, he would have been feeling it yesterday or earlier this morning. In any case, if he has it then he's probably already given it to the rest of his team."
Weir could feel her eyes widening at Beckett's words. "Shouldn't you be…" she trailed off as a frown formed on his face.
"At this point, it's in the air, Elizabeth. I'm hoping the environmental systems can scrub out the particles, but I've been in touch with…nearly everyone in the past week. I don't know when we would have been contagious, exactly, but I imagine the damage is already done. The decontamination procedure was just to make sure that we didn't bring anymore of it back with us."
"What's your plan?"
He sighed, pursing his lips a bit before he spoke. "I'm keeping Shelly under observation so I can better understand the stages and see how it affects us, as opposed to the Athosians. I'm also going to have Doctor Biro closely monitor Anne, Major Lorne, and myself."
"Good," she said, nodding to herself. "Doctor Biro's a good choice."
"In case I do become incapacitated, I wanted to have someone else involved from the very beginning since I probably have a week's head start. But there's no telling who will come down with this virus, disease…" he sighed. "We're not even sure what it is exactly."
"Well, then I think you should get back to work," she replied, as Carson moved to her door. "I'll have Lorne's team report directly to you once they're back. I'm also going to recall all of the other off-world teams."
"Good idea, but honestly," he said, pausing, "I don't think there's a big hurry. They're either already infected, immune, or they'll catch it when they gate home. They might as well finish their missions."
"What about the other people they might encounter?"
Carson shrugged. "I think this is native to this galaxy so there's a very good possibility that we might have gotten it from one of the people we met. We should check all of the off-world logs going back the past month or so. We need to find out how the Athosians got it in the first place."
"I'll get a team started on that." Elizabeth caught Carson's eyes, and nodded slightly, giving him a light smile. "You'll figure it out, you always do."
"I hope yer right."
xxx
"Rodney, this is Weir, come in."
Releasing a deep breath as he straightened in his chair, pausing the scroll of the Ancient database on the laptop, he answered the call, not bothering to hide his irritation. "What?"
In the pregnant pause of silence that followed his remark, he could picture her expression, her eyebrow raised in surprise and the look of annoyance flooding her features. "I have some questions about the environmental systems."
"Can it wait? I'm trying to go through everything Zelenka's team brought back."
"If I thought it could wait I wouldn't have commed you," she responded, the tone of her voice hard.
He sighed. "Look. I'm serious when I said I'm busy, but Dave Nelson's overseeing any projects involving the environmental systems. He should be able to help you, unless of course you need me to completely rebuild something. Then, yes, you were right to call me."
"I have some concerns about the system transporting contagions."
"Contagions? Are you talking about an airborne plague? Did Sheppard bring something back with him? Am I going to die because I've been sitting in this room for twelve hours?"
"Doctor McKay, slow down," she ordered, stopping his incessant questions. "Doctor Beckett is concerned that a particular virus the Athosians have may have infected some Atlantis personnel. I was concerned that it may have the ability to spread through the environmental systems."
"Actually," Rodney said, his mind already moving, leaping ahead, "depending on what it is, it may be able to be transported through the system. Some things are filtered out, yes, but a virus might be able to get through. Of course, if it was something the Ancients knew about, the system might be able to recognize it and eliminate it as a threat, but if it's new, or a mutated version of something else…I don't know. Check with Nelson. He might have some thoughts."
"Thank you. That's what I needed to know. Weir out."
Shaking his head at her abrupt sign off, he stretched a little, his muscles aching from hunching over the computer for so long. A little more time and he will have made a first pass at the database, then he could start on a closer examination of some of the devices themselves. He'd need to get Radek down here, and maybe Kusangi. At least she had the gene.
As he delved back in, he focused quickly on what he was reading, all thoughts about contagions and environmental systems fading to the back of his mind until they were totally forgotten.
xxx
TBC
