Of Duty, Atonement, and Redemption—Chapter Ten
By SGC Gategirl

xxx

For warnings, comments, summary, etc, please see part one.

xxx

The three off-world teams all decided to come back within ten minutes of each other. Although, it might have had to do with the order he'd given about an hour ago.

John Sheppard stood at the balcony overlooking the gateroom as the last team stepped through, depositing their finds in the pile at the side of the room where several of the science geeks were standing, visibly drooling at the Ancient technology currently on display.

Catching Elizabeth's eye, she nodded and he turned, moving swiftly, his booted feet barely making a sound as he descended, the three teams all standing in a ragged group, clustered around the base of the stairs.

"Sir," Lorne said, stepping forward. "What's going on?"

John didn't answer immediately, his gaze moving through the room, pausing on each person standing before him, noting the worry, the concern, the boredom, the fear. He turned his attention back to Lorne, asking his own question, his voice soft, but tinted with a hard edge; the kind he got when he knew something was going wrong and he could do nothing about it. "Missions went well?"

Several nods answered his question, but each team leader stepped forward. Majors George Doyle and Doug Watson—the two teams who had to come back early—reported quickly, efficiently, evidently noting Sheppard's demeanor. Good missions. They'd found a small storage area and had brought back as many items as they could carry. Additional missions were recommended.

Lorne, had moved to the side, his head tilted as he listened to the reports, watching everyone carefully, most especially John.

"Okay. I need everyone to report to the infirmary ASAP. Lorne, if you'll stay for a moment?" At the Major's nod, he continued, "Good work, everyone. You're dismissed."

Twenty-two booted feet clattered into the hallway as John strolled toward his second-in-command who hadn't moved from where he was leaning.

"We might have a problem," John began.

Lorne nodded. "Guessed as much."

"It seems the illness spreading among the Athosians has made it here."

"Beckett?"

John shook his head. "One of the nurses, Shelly Laurence."

"The blonde, right?" he asked, his frown deepening at Sheppard's nod. "She was with us on the initial trip. I still don't know everyone on the civilian side of things. There's more of them than you think."

"It takes time, I know," he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Beckett's worried it may have spread during the past week, but he's not sure how. Nelson is checking the environmental systems."

"So, why don't I feel sick?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Beckett's fine, as is Nurse Matthews."

"And he thought I was the canary."

"The what?" A raised eyebrow accompanied his question.

"Miners used canaries as the first sign of toxicity. Beckett told me I was his 'yellow canary' when we were on the mainland the second time. Seems like the job fell to Shelly." Lorne paused, his face grim. "If what the Athosians told me is any indication, we might have a big problem."

Sheppard gestured for Lorne to follow him up the stairs. The Major had to report into Weir about the mission. He might as well do it now before he headed to the infirmary. From what Beckett had told them, it was pointless to try and isolate those they suspected were infected. At this point, it probably would have been nearly the entire base.

"What do you mean?"

Lorne matched his pace and stride, walking companionably beside him. "There was talk—nothing specific, nothing that I can point to. I'm sure Beckett already shared this with you, but this illness was new to the Athosians and in some of the outer villages may have been deadly."

"Yeah, Beckett said as much," Sheppard confirmed.

Lorne glanced at him, his eyes wide, confusion on his face. "So, what exactly are we doing about it?"

"Beckett's working on it."

"That's it?"

"That's it. What else do you think we can do?" Sheppard asked, some of the frustration and anger bleeding into his voice. "Until they can figure out what it is and what we can expect, there's not much more for us to do but sit back and wait to get sick."

Lorne scowled. "Now there's a pleasant thought."

xxx

Radek Zelenka muttered under his breath as Leiko Kusangi and Rodney argued. They'd been at it, on and off, for the past two hours.

He was of half a mind to throw up his hands and walk out and let them kill each other, but he thought there might be some…issues with that decision. First and foremost, he did not want Rodney's job. Secondly, he knew the marine Kusangi was dating. He was big.

Instead, he sat and waited for one of them to take a breath so he could calm them down once again, try to talk sense into their thick skulls. Building a ZPM from scratch with no directions seemed like a far easier task to accomplish.

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Rodney was asking, his hands waving widely as his face reddened, the vein on his temple bulging a little. "Do you even have a degree, let along a science degree? I swear the only way you could even remotely think that was a good idea is if you have some kind of mental deficiency."

"You said for yourself that they had all been deactivated," Kusangi replied, her voice equally irate. She was the exact opposite of McKay's assistant Miko and sometimes Radek wondered how such diversity could occur between two women who could trace their family roots to the same exact village in a remote area. Apparently, upbringing and environment played a great deal in human development, but that subject was completely outside his own area of understanding. "We need to have the science department examining them to see if we can figure out what they did then reverse engineer them. The only way that's going to happen is if you actually let us do our jobs and stop hogging all the high-profile projects for yourself."

Radek nearly jumped in as Rodney's eyes widened dramatically his mouth hanging open for a few seconds. His reply, though, came soon enough. "Hogging! You think I enjoy working all hours of the day and night—"

"Obviously you enjoy playing the part of the martyr—"

"I'm just trying to do my job," he replied, his voice tight. "But if the majority of the science department wasn't idiots I might be able to delegate some of those so-called 'high-profile projects' without the fear of them blowing up in our collective faces."

Kusangi's voice dropped, her eyes narrowing. "Then if you can't trust us, why are we here? You were the one who made the final selection of science personnel. So what does that say about your judgment?"

Rodney stared at her for several beats, his jaw tight, the vein in his temple visibly throbbing, before he turned away. "Radek, pull up the list. Let's get some of these devices into the hands of the science teams. We're getting nowhere down here."

Swiveling in his chair, Radek turned back to the laptop and quickly brought the master list up. Rodney leaned over his shoulder, pointing to several items on the first page. "Let's start with these."

Radek nodded, glancing to his side toward Kusangi, catching her self-satisfied smirk. She was just as bad as Rodney. "Who gets these?" he asked, turning his attention back to the physicist hovering over his shoulder.

"I made some arrangements earlier," he replied, stepping closer to the workbench, moving the second laptop so Radek could see the screen. "It was my initial intention to have these go out sometime next week to the staff, but it seems like I may be a little too cautious in my evaluation of current workloads. I set it up with two people per team. Let's start at the top."

As Radek called out the identification numbers, Kusangi pulled them from the shelves, tagging each item with the appropriate name. Rodney recorded it on his sheets and called the respective scientist to report to the storage room.

It would take a while to get everything examined, but at least everyone would get to play a part in the discovery.

xxx

The next few days passed in a blur.

Carson Beckett had put the medical staff on high alert, everyone working long shifts to figure out what they were dealing with. From the reports she got twice a day, there was still a lot they didn't know, that they were guessing at. Nurse Lawrence's health was rapidly declining and a handful of others suffering similar symptoms had surfaced within the last two days.

One, thankfully, was not related to the illness, but that still left the medical staff with five patients—and with a number that would be growing.

Lorne, Matthews, and Carson, however, were symptom-free—so far. The only common denominator: they all had the ATA gene, whereas everyone else who contracted the disease did not have it.

But why hadn't this illness spread like wildfire through the Athosian population? There was something else, another factor at play. It was just a matter of finding it.

And that needed to happen sooner, rather than later. Especially after the report from the mainland this morning. Two of Beckett's Athosian patients—young men who had been in relatively good health prior to this—had died during the night.

Given the progress of the disease, Carson was estimating that they had about two weeks before it ran its full course. But would that be enough time to find a cure?

Weir had several techs going through the gate logs, trying to find out where this illness might have originated. There had been several Athosians off-world in the past few months. It was a matter of tracking everything down. But that also took time.

The science department, though, seemed completely oblivious to everything else going on. Like the medical department, they were working round the clock. The daily reports from Rodney about their progress with the Ancient devices were encouraging. Several were simple: timers for larger time-delayed devices, sensor relays, and shock grenades—much like what the Goa'uld used. It was still strange to see technology—Ancient technology—that was so clearly identified with the Goa'uld. Intellectually she knew that they were scavengers, using the technology they discovered, but it always gave her a start when she looked at something Ancient and instinctively thought Goa'uld.

It seemed everything they'd collected were pieces to much larger devices, mainly weapons. She could imagine John's reaction to the reports. If things had been different, he would probably have taken up residence in the labs alongside McKay.

But, that wasn't about to happen anytime soon, if she was any good at reading Sheppard's body language. He was still angry, not as intensely or all consuming as it had been, but under the surface it still burned. She wondered if it would ever completely go away.

"Ma'am?"

She glanced up, surprised by the interruption. It was late, way past time for her to be in bed. With everything going on, she'd been having problems falling asleep, so she'd decided to read a few more reports before attempting to catch a little shuteye.

"Yes, Brian? What is it?"

The gate technician smiled apologetically as he presses his headset closer to his ear. "I'm getting reports of an explosion."

She found herself on her feet, her chair pushed back away from her desk, without realizing when she'd stood up. "Where?"

"One of the science wings. Atlantis responded by closing down the section. Teams are already on the way."

She moved around her desk, walking beside Whitmore into the control room. "Do we know who was in there?"

"No. Communication within the affected labs is intermittent."

"Rodney will know who's in there." She pressed the call button on her comm. "Doctor McKay, come in please, this is Weir."

"Ma'am," Whitmore said, his hand on her arm, his face a mix of emotions. "Doctor McKay is one of the people I can't reach."

xxx

John Sheppard pounded down the hallway, dodging a few dirty and staggering scientists, the smoke getting thicker the closer he got to the source of the explosion. Thankfully, they were in one of the more unused sections of Atlantis—or at least unused until this week when it had been commandeered for any and all research involving the Ancient devices they'd uncovered.

McKay hadn't wanted the items in the main labs. It seemed he'd had good reason.

Ronon appeared at one of the intersections, pausing only long enough to set his pace next to Sheppard as they continued down the hall. It looked like the Satedan had pulled on whatever clothing was handy after John's hasty late-night summons. "What happened?"

"Explosion in the labs. No one can get hold of McKay."

The other man grunted in surprise. "He was in there?"

John shrugged, side-stepping around a medic who was bent over one of the scientists—Kusangi, from the looks of it. "Hold up a sec," he said, moving back a few paces before dropping down to one knee beside the woman. She was half-covered in dirt and grime—soot maybe—her blue eyes a little glazed, her normally perfectly preened and arranged brown hair hanging limply around her face, the stringy ends sticking to the sweat on her neck and face.

"Doctor Kusangi, what happened?"

She glanced up, squinting in the half-light of the hallway, but didn't move otherwise, allowing the doctor to treat her injuries, including a gash on her right forearm. "We were working on some of the devices we'd brought up from the storage room, had been for most of the day."

"Who's 'we'?"

"The science staff…more or less everyone who wasn't already busy with another project."

"How about McKay and Zelenka?" John could feel Ronon standing behind him, impatience radiating off the warrior in ever-increasing waves. He was a man of action and this, to him, was a waste. Glancing up quickly, John indicated with a wave of his hand for the Satedan to continue on without him. A sharp nod and Ronon was gone, the barest swoosh of fabric indicating his departure.

Kusangi nodded in answer to his question, wincing as the movement jostled her arm. "We were overseeing the teams; the three of us."

"You weren't working on anything specific?"

"No," she hissed, trying to pull her limb from the medic as he tried to clean the wound. "They kept asking questions, interrupting us. We thought it would be easier to be floaters in the lab. Less aggravation."

John nodded, agreeing with their actions. Glancing down the hall, he saw a good portion of the science staff littering the corridor, everyone with various injuries. From the looks of it, mostly minor.

Another group of medics hurried past, a grim-faced Carson in the lead, loaded down with medical supplies.

"So what happened?"

"Not sure. Brady called McKay over to look at something. Zelenka was down the hall, I think, with Swartson. The next thing I hear is McKay ordering everyone out. Something about power spikes. But none of the devices were active. Most of them weren't even complete."

"You left?"

She nodded, wincing as her arm was wrapped in gauze. "With that tone, I wasn't going to argue."

"Tone?"

"Surprise. Panic." She shrugged. "His usual 'oh shit' reflex."

"How many scientists were in the labs?"

"This late…maybe twenty, twenty-five. I'd been helping Jones for a while and I hadn't gotten the chance to do a walk through in about an hour."

"You're all done, doc," the medic said, interrupting. "You should still report to the infirmary for a full check-up."

"I will," she replied, offering a quick smile of thanks to the man as he moved to the next patient.

"Which lab were McKay and Brady in?"

"One of the first ones off the main room, to the left I think." She paused, her eyes finally wandering around the corridor, taking in the smoke and the groans of pain and controlled panic as the teams tried to ascertain the damage. "Is everyone okay?"

"We're trying to find that out," John replied, helping Kusangi to her feet and steadying her when she swayed. "You should probably go to the infirmary. Do you need help getting there?"

She shook her head. "I can wait."

"Doc—"

"No," she said, cutting off his comment. "I need to see what happened."

Gesturing to one of his men, John nodded to Kusangi. "Fine. Captain Andrews here will stay with you and make sure you get to the infirmary when you're ready to go. Okay?"

She nodded. "Thanks."

John smiled briefly, tightly. "I have to go. Andrews, you know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

Turning, John moved down the corridor, trying not to inhale the smoke the environmental systems were trying to clear out. Something was still burning in the labs—a cross between wires, electronics, paper, and something else. That last part was something he'd recognize anywhere.

He clamped down on his fears, his worries. There was time for that later, once everything was cataloged and cleaned up and the dead were carried away.

"Colonel!"

He saw a figure walking toward him, hair even more askew than normal, his glasses bearing several smears of grime. Overall, though, he was one of the cleaner scientists in the area. Kusangi was right. He'd been down the hall when this happened. "Zelenka?"

"Colonel, you must help me. I cannot find Rodney."

xxx

Teyla maneuvered through the congested hallway, passing many injured and ailing Atlanteans. She'd spotted Sheppard speaking with one of them, kneeling beside her as her wounds were bound.

She continued on, moving closer to the center of the destruction, trying not to get in the way, but it was hard. The explosion had taken out the main power in this section, leaving them only with emergency lighting, making the corridor even more treacherous.

Carson was setting up a single field station adjacent to the main door to the lab where several scientists—some of them injured and bleeding—worked alongside Major Lorne's team, trying to get the doors to open.

"Doctor," she called, moving to his side. "Where are Doctor McKay and Ronon? I do not see either of them."

He glanced up, pausing long enough to answer her question, his bloodshot eyes weary. She knew he had been busy studying the illness that had struck her people as well as his own. This had come at a most inopportune time—not that accidents in the science labs were ever opportune. "Ronon's with the other team tryin' ta get in. There's another entrance through some of the smaller labs. They're hoping ta get past the lockdown."

"Lockdown?" Her gaze scanned the corridor, the smoke slowly lifting, the smell unpleasant.

"Atlantis automatically reacts when something like this happens," Sheppard said, obviously catching her question as he appeared at her side. "It tries to contain the damage to one section, or a series of sections. Since it seems some of the scientists got out, the lockdown might have been progressive, letting people leave before locking up behind them."

"Aye, but that also means we canna get in."

"We're trying, Doc," Sheppard said, his face hard as he watched Lorne's team working on the doors.

Ronon's voice called out over the comm. "Sheppard?"

"Here," he replied, clicking his radio to transmit. "What is it?"

"We're about through. You might want to be here. It smells bad."

Sheppard's face twitched slightly, the only outward sign that this was affecting him. "Understood. I'll be right there." He turned toward them. "Carson, Teyla, you're with me."

She nodded, the doctor echoing her gesture, as they silently followed the Colonel down the hallway, grabbing equipment along the way.

When they reached the second group, Sheppard immediately moved toward the front, the strange equipment in his hands. She leaned over to the doctor, confused. "What is Colonel Sheppard doing?"

"He has the fire extinguisher ready, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"Don't you smell it?"

She turned to him, seeing the resignation in his eyes. "Smell what?"

"I'm surprised you can't pick it out. Maybe I've been around too many fires."

"Doctor Beckett, your words are troubling. What are you attempting to tell me?"

He sighed, looking away. "The scent that's turning your stomach, love, only comes from one thing. Burnt flesh."

xxx

The smell was stronger once the doors to the lab opened—much stronger. Two scientists were inside that first room, huddled in the corner, bruised and battered but alive.

Carson Beckett had quickly gotten to work, Teyla at his side as his assistant while the rest of his staff treated the wounded out in the corridor. His hands moved instinctively, cleaning and binding the wounds, speaking consolingly, comforting them as he helped them work through the pain before the meds could kick in.

But even as he worked, he was listening to the conversations around him.

There was another locked door, another obstacle. Sheppard had sent Radek to the control room to try to unlock the doors from the main system since none of the panels were giving them access.

There had to be a better way to do this. It was taking too long, much too long.

Lieutenant Clark helped move the scientists when he was done, walking them slowly into the hall where stretches waited to take them to the infirmary.

A cry of surprise rose up from the group at the door and Carson glanced up. There was an opening, he could see into the next lab.

"Good job, Radek," Sheppard said, even as two of the marines forced the door the rest of the way open, finally giving them access to the area. They moved through quickly, silently, the destruction getting more substantial the closer they got to the main section of the lab, to where they thought Rodney and Doctor Brady had been.

"Sheppard," Carson whispered, the lone word enough to get the Colonel to pause, to glance over his shoulder allowing Beckett to see the stern soldier mask that had been slipped onto his face.

The other man must have seen something on his face that made him stop, only speaking when Carson was beside him, the words hissed through clenched teeth. "Stop it. Stop thinking that. They're going to be fine."

"You don't know that, Colonel," he replied, knowing finally what Sheppard had seen. It was the same expression he saw on the others with them—horror and resignation that they were far too late to make a difference.

"I have to believe that otherwise we're doing this for nothing. Every person is important on this base and I'll do everything in my power to make sure they can live another day. You understand?"

Carson nodded, not sure what other response to give. But he could see as well as anyone else. How could someone survive this?

They continued on, side-stepping around debris that had been thrown from the blast. As they moved closer, some equipment was still smoldering but a quick burst from the extinguisher solved that problem.

It wasn't until they reached the main lab that they found the bodies.

Two of them.

"Oh dear, God," Carson muttered, his heart dropping. This couldn't be happening.

Weir's voice across the communications system nearly made him jump out of his skin. "Sheppard, come in. This is Weir."

John tapped his headset, his eyes refusing to look away from the carnage. "Go ahead," he said, pausing to listen to Elizabeth. Since he couldn't hear her side of the conversation any more, he assumed they'd gone on a private channel once he picked up the call.

"We're in the lab now. Were you able to get a final count? Radek was supposed to give you that information."

Carson moved slowly, trying to avoid the worst spots in the room where jagged metal poked out from under blackened debris.

"He's not sure? I need to know how many I'm looking for Elizabeth. Two is a much smaller number than five."

Finding a spot to kneel, he eased himself down, gently laying his pack beside him as if the small noises he made could wake the men lying before him. He closed his eyes, trying to get his emotions under control, but the image was burned into his mind.

"I understand. Sheppard out."

Glancing up, Carson caught John's gaze seeing the possibility of hope within.

"Zelenka says that there are five scientists missing. We have two here, so we're looking for three more. Get moving people. Time is not on our side tonight."

In between breaths, the rescue team moved out—carefully, cautiously. John, however, was standing in front of one of the still closed doors.

Carson watched as Sheppard turned his radio back on. "Doctor Z, I need you to open another door for me."

Whatever the answer, it was clear the other man didn't like it. "No, I don't care that the main systems are having heart palpitations as you try to re-route everything. I want you to do one thing: get the damn door open."

Standing, Beckett reached down and grabbed his bag, moving around the two bodies at his feet. It must have been in the way he was holding himself, but Carson knew that John knew something—or at least had a supposition.

"Colonel?" Carson asked, having the intense look Sheppard had on the door turned toward him.

"Doctor Kusangi said Brady and McKay were working in one of the smaller rooms off the main lab, but it's obvious the explosion happened in here, not in there," he replied quietly, evenly, his hand gesturing between the room they were in and the other one beyond the locked door.

"So, they moved the device?"

"Maybe," Sheppard replied, his voice thoughtful as he obviously tried to work through what happened. Trying to get into the mind of one loud, obnoxious, and over-bearing physicist in particular was a job Carson wouldn't wish on anyone. If what he could see on the outside was any indication, the inside of Rodney's mind was something altogether too frightening to even consider, let alone examine.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes at the door, but Carson doubted he was even seeing what was in front of him. "McKay would want to try and contain the blast. It would make sense that he would have tried to leave the device in the smaller room, closing and locking the door as he got himself and the scientists out of the labs. Rodney's sense of self-preservation always kicks in."

"True, but that's not what happened."

"Unless someone else thought it might be a good idea to move it somewhere else, maybe somewhere it would do less harm." Sheppard paused, his face firmly set in a puzzled expression. "I wonder what that room backs up to."

"You could ask Zelenka."

Sheppard nodded and pressed the call button again. This time Carson heard John through his headset echoing what he was saying as he stood beside him. "Sheppard to Zelenka."

The replying deep sigh nearly made Carson laugh. "You want doors open or not? If so, you should stop bothering the scientists who are working."

"What does this lab back up to?"

"What?"

"The small lab that you're trying to get me into. What's behind it?"

"Nothing of consequence. Large empty space that no one is using for anything. Why?"

Sheppard's forehead creased in confusion. "Then why did they move the device into the main lab? Wouldn't it make more sense to try to contain it in a smaller location?"

"Yes, but since when is commonsense a requirement for science? Hold while I bring up the schematics for that section."

The Colonel raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting a little before his gaze transferred to the lab and the teams that had spread out, covering all areas.

Ronon plodded back into the main lab a few seconds later. "One more body over here."

Sheppard nodded, acknowledging the warrior's report. Three dead, two more to go.

"Colonel," Zelenka said, pulling their attention back to the locked door. "It seems you were correct. Some of Atlantis' major systems are connected though the rear wall of that lab. Perhaps Rodney knew?"

"Systems? Which ones?"

"Power, for one. Environmental also. All primary."

"Damn. He had to have known."

"Yes, Colonel, and you should have access to door in a few more seconds."

Sure enough, the panels parted before them, opening several inches before stopping. Pulling out his flashlight, he aimed it inside, the light stopping on a set of booted feet.

"Someone's in here. Give me a hand, Doc," he said, his flashlight tucked in his tactical vest, already pulling and yanking at the door. Dropping his case, Carson leaned into it, tugging to open the door enough to let them enter. Slowly, they parted.

"Go, Doc. I'll get Ronon to help get them open all the way."

Nodding, Carson picked up his case and squeezed through the opening, the emergency lighting barely giving him enough illumination to see. Rounding the workbench, he stopped suddenly, stifling an urge to laugh.

For all intents and purposes it looked like he was interrupting an interlude between Rodney and Miko, one of McKay's scientists—at least until you looked closely and you took a deep breath, catching the coppery smell of blood. Rodney was on top, most of his body covering the smaller woman. Several large gashes adorned his back, the blood darkening his shirt and jacket.

"Doc?" Sheppard must have seen him pause.

"I have two in here, Colonel. Rodney and Miko."

"And that makes five," Sheppard said as Carson knelt beside them, his hands reaching out to check for vitals. Neither scientist responded to his touch, but their pulses were strong—although Rodney's was a little thready and faster than he'd like.

"I need more light," he called out as he opened his bag, his eyes drifting to the dark puddle on the floor and the blood on Rodney's face. Miko had a cut on her temple, but he wouldn't know more until he could move McKay. "And I need cervical collars and two backboards."

"The medics are already on their way," Sheppard reported a beat later, his voice much closer than it had been a moment ago, light now shining directly on his patients. Glancing over his shoulder, he discovered John only a few feet away, squatting down beside him, his eyes intent on the two scientists.

"You called them in?"

John shook his head, his expression closed off, his gaze not altering. "They were on their way already. They figured if we found anyone we were going to need a little help."

Carson nodded and proceeded to clean the cuts he could reach. He pulled several shards of metal from Rodney's back, dropping them into a small container Sheppard was holding for him. A muttered curse and a loud bang indicated the arrival of the medics a few minutes later.

Anne Matthews poked her head into the room, her face pale and pinched, strands of her brown hair hanging loose, having slipped free from her clip. "Doctor Beckett, where do you want this?"

Flashing a thankful smile, he turned back to what he was doing. He needed to get these wounds cleaned as best he could before he moved Rodney. "Bring the collars and the backboards in here. I'm going to need them sooner rather than later."

Five minutes later, after much straining and careful maneuvering, Rodney was strapped to the first board and headed to the infirmary. Miko was only a few minutes behind him. Neither had regained consciousness.

Now the real work began.

xxx

With environmental systems back online and the lights up to full power it was easier to clean up the mess. However, it also meant that they could finally see the extent of the damage.

John was glad he didn't have to try to explain this to the landlord. And Elizabeth wasn't going to be happy either.

All the injured, bruised, battered, and smoke inhaled scientists finally had been transported to the infirmary a few hours ago. The three bodies had finally been removed and sent to the morgue where Doctor Biro would complete the autopsies—even though they pretty much knew what killed them.

In the meantime, John had arranged several clean-up details consisting of both scientists and military personnel to sort through the wreckage, saving what they could and trashing the rest. As Ancient devices were uncovered, they were cataloged and set aside. They would need careful examination in a protected environment before anyone would get to look at them again.

Radek waded in as soon as he'd turned up about an hour ago, ignoring Sheppard's order to report to the infirmary. He was fine, he claimed, even though it looked like he was about ready to drop. Right now he was muttering to himself in Czech and scowling heavily.

Sheppard stepped up alongside, wiping his hands on his pants leg, blending additional dirt into the fabric. "Doctor Z," he said keeping his tone light and conversational. He wasn't in the mood to deal with spooked scientists. "You okay?"

Zelenka glanced up, the scowl deepening before he relaxed a little, slumping against the workbench. "Tired. Worried. This should not have happened."

John resisted the quip running through his mind that referenced a famous fictional English detective. "No, it shouldn't have." But even as he tried to keep his temper under control, there was a part of him that was very angry and upset. Three people were dead because of these stupid devices, with two more seriously injured, not including the twenty other scientists who'd been involved. As he continued, he knew his own frustration and worry tinted his tone more toward irate, but he didn't care.

"What was McKay thinking? I thought everything was deactivated. Are there any more we have to worry about? We have a storage room full of stuff."

Radek looked at him steadily for several moments and John thought that he might not respond at all. He'd opened his mouth to say something else—what, he didn't know—but the scientist finally spoke, the words pitched so they wouldn't travel further than John's ears.

"As much as we wished things were different, as much as we rely on exact figures and measurements, science is as much an art as anything else. Here, though, every decision we make—even small ones—can have disastrous consequences. Today is not a proud moment for any of us." Radek's gaze shifted from his fingers to the top of the worktable, refusing to lift his head. "Yes, we are arrogant, demanding, but it is because if we are not you may see just how terrified we are and then you might lose the small sliver of hope we have given you."

Finally, he glanced up, his face showing everything. John nearly took a step back from the intensity of the emotion, the starkness he saw on Zelenka's bare face. "I think I shall report to the infirmary. If you require my assistance, you can find me there until Doctor Beckett removes me."

Pushing himself away from the table, the Czech moved away, his shoulders even more rounded than when he'd walked in and surveyed the damage for the first time. Watching him step through the debris until he was out of sight, John finally turned, his gaze raking over the rest of the room, his hands on his hips.

What was next? At this point, he wasn't sure anymore.

xxx

TBC