Reminder:
"This is spoken English."
"This is spoken Czech."
This is a thought.

Previously: That project Radek had been working on for weeks (since chapter 43), just blew up in everyone's face (last chapter). No one is okay. Maybe some useful parallels (but only if you recall all the way back to chapter 25, which was, yes, a long time ago).


Chapter 53. Hypocrite.

Anna sat on the floor of Doctor McKay's lab, next to Collins' station. It was hard to believe that he would never be sitting there again working on coding. Showing her more efficient rerouting pathways for the Daedalus. Streamlining this-and-that for whatever on Atlantis. She breathed onto her knees, wishing someone would say something.

Everyone was so quiet. Doctor McKay had been staring into space for the past twenty minutes. Anna had never known him to be so quiet, and, apparently, Radek hadn't either. Radek looked up periodically from whatever he was doing. He glanced down toward Anna a few times. Maybe he didn't know why she was there. But it was midnight and she didn't want to be home alone.

Not that it mattered. Everyone here seemed alone.

How could three people be sitting in the same room together and yet unreachable?

"You could have said something."

Anna looked up when Doctor McKay muttered under his breath.

"What did you want me to say?" Radek asked quietly. "I said we don't know what happened. I said it's going to take time. Both of those things are true."

"Right. You have no problem going on about how little you know, but you didn't have anything to say when Caldwell wanted to just throw Collins under the bus." Doctor McKay didn't bother tempering his tone like Radek did.

"There is no bus."

Anna didn't know what that meant. Besides, maybe Doctor McKay should have tried going on about how little he knew. She rested her chin on her knees. Over-active ego was a problem around here. So was jumping in and doing things before anyone knew what they were talking about.

That sounded familiar.

Doctor McKay looked confused. "What?"

"It wasn't an unfair question from someone who knows nothing," Radek said.

"Caldwell was looking for someone to blame. And it wasn't Collins's fault."

Radek looked down at his keyboard and stayed quiet. Was he thinking the same thing that Anna was? That it was Doctor McKay's fault? If Doctor McKay hadn't jumped into the project with both feet and sent Collins to check the field in the middle of the first test, he would be alive and well. Was that what he was thinking?

"You're right," Radek said finally. "It was an accident."

"No." Doctor McKay shook his head emphatically, shaking his finger at Radek. "No, it shouldn't have happened. Physically, it shouldn't have happened. Our mistake was in using the Ancients' equations in the first place."

"We haven't had the chance to analyze this," Radek said. "We shouldn't be jumping to conclusions right now."

"Yeah, well, if we don't come up with something, Elizabeth's just going to shut us down."

"Better that than another mistake, don't you think?" Anna spoke up. Doctor McKay and Radek both looked at her like they'd forgotten she was there. "What if someone else dies?"

Doctor McKay laughed derisively. "If scientists just gave up every time something went wrong, we wouldn't be sitting in a lab in the Pegasus galaxy."

"Rodney, we have to figure out what happened." Radek paused to look up at Doctor McKay. "We don't even know that. If we don't know that, then what's to keep it from happening again? Or worse?"

"I think I know what happened. We just need to adjust the field strength manually."

Radek rolled his eyes. "You saw how fast the power fluctuated on—"

"Can you imagine how the world would look if they just gave up on the Manhattan project after Daghlian irradiated himself?" Doctor McKay broke in, and Radek paused. It looked to Anna like Doctor McKay had tread on some sacred ground, spoken some magic word. Radek was speechless. "Should they have just given up? You know what the stakes are here."

"I know," Radek said quietly. "We need to be more careful." He rose from his chair and looked at Anna. "I think we need to sleep." He looked at Doctor McKay. "All of us."

"Yeah, yeah," Doctor McKay said absently. "Good night, Radek." He'd gone back to his computer, crunching more numbers and running more simulations. In a few minutes, he'd probably be cursing the impossibility of it all.

It seemed just as impossible to Anna. She didn't understand the science going on, but the consequences were real. She kept looking at Collins's chair, realizing again that he was gone forever.

Radek sighed and waited at the door for Anna to join him. They walked down the stairs in silence to the transporter. Atlantis was silent as a graveyard, but it was probably just because it was late. The city had been informed of Collins's demise. His next of kin, a brother and one parent on Earth, had been informed with their weekly check-up with the SGC.

They wouldn't know where he died. They wouldn't really even know how he died.

Anna knew both of those things. He died on a planet in another galaxy, lethal exposure to radiation that no one knew existed. That didn't make any difference. No one would know why he died. Anna didn't know. She just knew that it wasn't fair.

She stepped into the transporter next to Radek.

"Hypocrite."

Radek glanced at her.

She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Or maybe she had. She wanted to yell at someone, and he was the most convenient person right now.

"What? Who?" Radek sounded shocked.

"Doctor McKay." Maybe he didn't remember, but it was only a few weeks ago that he'd lectured Radek about running ahead with something he didn't know anything about. It wasn't Radek's lesson to learn. "I suppose he just thought he'd mash on the keyboard and hoped something happened." She made sure her tone mimicked Doctor McKay's nearly exactly as she remembered it. Weeks ago, he'd said as much to Radek.

She was sure he remembered it. Anna remembered Radek's look of livid humiliation like it was yesterday.

"Oh. Anna. That isn't the same thing," Radek said.

"How isn't it?" Anna demanded.

"No," Radek turned to her with a serious look on his face, not bothering when the door opened to let them out onto the south-east pier. "We have worked on this for weeks. What happened during the test was something that none of us predicted and—"

"Collins is dead!" She blinked at her tears. He didn't seem to see it the way she did. Why did he defend Doctor McKay when he was so obviously wrong? "Because Doctor McKay didn't know what he was doing!"

"That is not what happened, Anna," Radek said.

He seemed even more shocked when Anna ran out of the transporter, just to hide that she was crying again. She didn't look back, running all the way home. She made it to her room and underneath her covers before Radek caught up.

Her door slid open. "Anna," he said.

She shifted under the quilt. Her lungs hurt from sobbing, her eyes sore with tears. "You're just going to defend him."

"Because we couldn't have predicted what happened," Radek said. He took a step into the room and waited. "I'm not going to defend Rodney's complete arrogance. But he blames himself enough."

Anna buried her face in her pillow. He didn't blame himself enough. That was the problem. Maybe if he did, then Collins would still be alive because he wouldn't be so conceited. He said it himself. He thought he knew better than the Ancients.

Radek sighed. "I will be at the lab early tomorrow. Will you want to have breakfast with me?"

Anna didn't answer. Radek apparently took that as a no. Walked away. The door shut after him.

She sat up, wrapping the quilt around her, and opened the blinds on her window. Atlantis was beautiful and bright as ever, as if it hadn't just lost one of its brightest scientists.

#

Radek sat down in the main room. He looked at the stray bubbles on his pale lager. He'd never bought Collins his drink for his "promotion" a few weeks ago. There was always time for that in the future, he'd tell himself. They were too busy and, honestly, it was true. Atlantis wasn't all work, all the time, but it was close.

He lifted his glass to absent friends. "Na zdraví." *

He started when the signal on the door sounded. Someone was outside, wanted to come in. That was highly unusual, especially at this time of night. Radek could have counted on his fingers the number of times someone had come to his quarters.

It was probably one of the scientists, come to talk about Collins. Maybe they wanted a drink. In absence of the Athosians, Radek was Atlantis's most reliable source of alcohol. If not for the necessity of work early tomorrow, he would have been set on getting drunk tonight. Maybe tomorrow, too.

This wasn't supposed to happen; this wasn't right.

Radek stared in confusion and shock at Rodney, standing on the other side of the door. "Rodney. I thought we agreed we needed to sleep."

"You agreed." Rodney pushed past Radek without asking.

Radek sighed. "Why don't you come in?" he said as Rodney crossed the floor to look out the window at the sparkling Atlantis. He could come in, but he wasn't having anything to drink.

"Sheppard and I are going back to the outpost tomorrow. I think I know what to do."

Radek squinted at Rodney. "Wait—what?" How could he have figured it out so fast? If he did—even Radek would have to admit Rodney was a god of physics. An arrogant, insufferable god, but still.

"It all has to do with the amount of power. The moment the power spiked was the exact moment that the field expanded asymmetrically," Rodney said. "Running the test fire at no more than half power should be perfectly safe."

Radek nodded uncertainly. Yes, that should have been true. But only looking at it from the most basic level. "Rodney…" He didn't know how to say this. Rodney wasn't being clear, so… maybe he'd misunderstood? "The particles created by the containment of vacuum energy are… It's constant random energy fluctuation. How do you contain it?"

"It won't be a problem. I don't have to contain it. Just control it."

"No, no, no," Radek said. "The very nature—they can't be controlled."

"Oh really?" Rodney snapped. "And you base this on what?"

"I base it on the data from the test," Radek said. "Look, it's too early to go back now. We have simulations to run and calculations to work though."

"I did that, and I'm telling you—"

"You go back there tomorrow and the same or worse will happen," Radek interrupted. "That will kill this project for good. We don't want that."

"You obviously don't understand," Rodney muttered.

Obviously not. "Please, do not jump into this so fast. Let me do some simulations, and—"

"That'll take too long." Rodney hesitated a moment. "Look, it was sort of a professional curtesy to tell you Sheppard and I are going back to run the simulation."

"Professional curtesy?" Radek scoffed. So that was what this was all about? Publishing papers and getting awards? He set his beer down carefully on the nearest table. He was going to spill it if Rodney kept this up. His hands were already shaking. "I hope you're alright with me accepting your Nobel Prize for you posthumously, because you are going to kill yourself. Assuming it even works."

"Just because you don't understand it—"

"You're right." Radek threw his hands up in exasperation. "I admit it. I have no idea what screwed up the test firing today. I have no idea what went wrong or why."

"Alright, at least we agree on something," Rodney muttered.

"And if you would admit to just a particle of ignorance, then we could solve this problem together." Radek set his jaw and glared.

Rodney didn't care about that. He didn't even care about his own life.

"I've solved it," Rodney said. He started for the door.

Radek slumped down onto the couch, running his hand through his hair. "I hope you're blinded by grief right now and will see clearly in the morning."

Rodney rolled his eyes, pausing his march toward the door. "Oh, if that's not some condescending crap—"

"I'm being condescending?" Radek laughed at the ridiculousness of that statement. He turned toward Rodney.

He'd turned his back already, walking toward the door.

So maybe mocking him was not the road to go down right now. Should have known that. Radek sighed. "Rodney." He looked up at the ceiling when Rodney didn't answer. "Give it a day. Please. Give me the time to understand it. Then I can help you and maybe we can make it work."

"There isn't time for that." Rodney left before Radek could say any more.

Radek leaned back on the sofa in momentary defeat. Rodney was really going to go back there and kill himself? He couldn't let him do that… Collins was dead. What if… what if Rodney actually did end up killing himself…?

Could he handle being in charge of the whole Atlantis science team? Probably. Was that what he wanted? Absolutely, yes. But for all the times Radek threatened under his breath in Czech to kill Rodney, the last thing he wanted was for Rodney to die.

"You're such an idiot. You're going to kill yourself and I don't care."

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Radek slammed his feet on the floor and stood.

"Damnit, Rodney."

He went around the room, picking up tablets and wires as he went. He had to figure this out quickly if he meant to stop Rodney from making the last mistake of his life. It was what he was here for. Only a few people understood exactly what Rodney was doing most of the time. Even fewer cared to stop him when he got out of hand.

Radek cared. So help him, he cared a lot.

So much for sleeping tonight.


Next time: I didn't mean to call you that, but… yeah. I guess I meant it.