Chapter 2

Eli had been paying attention. He had been watching Rush in the mornings, when he began to arrive on the bridge later and later. He had been watching him in the evenings, when he'd leave earlier than he used to. He had been watching him in the Mess, staring blankly at his notebook. He had been watching him on the observation deck, literally staring out into space and seeming to inwardly shut down every night. He was watching that afternoon after they got back from the planet, not long after Colonel Young had left them with an order to go to bed, when something sent alarm bells ringing in his head that wouldn't shut up for the rest of the night.

Rush was off by eight. It wasn't a big number, which is what made it so concerning. It wasn't a difference of sixty-seven thousand, or anything. Eli could have understood that, although in the present circumstance it would be impossible, but even if that were the case then Rush certainly also would have noticed the error. But he didn't. He had calculated that they had collected thirty-one days' worth of water, but actually they only had twenty-three. It wasn't an error in gross weight. It wasn't a misestimation of ration size or a miscalculation of the needs of hydroponics. It was a simple adding mistake, the kind Rush never made. He had added nine to fourteen and somehow got thirty-one. Eli did not know what the numbers nine and fourteen even represented. When Brody asked Rush about it, he had no answer. He just stared at him blankly until the engineer let it go and walked away.

"Are you all right?" Eli had asked Rush, coming up to his side.

Rush didn't look up from his notebook. "I'm fine. Why?"

Eli shrugged. "Just because of what happened just now."

"It was a mistake, nothing more."

Eli frowned. "Yeah, for a third grader maybe. Not for a university professor with a Ph.D."

Rush twisted his head to look at him. "Is there a problem here, Eli?" he demanded.

Eli raised his hands in defeat. "Just making sure you're okay. You seem a little weird."

And that's when it got really weird. Rush tossed his notebook down onto his console and said, "No, I'm actually not okay, because these equations are different."

Eli wasn't sure if he should retreat or come closer, so he stayed where he was. "What equations?"

"The one I asked you and Chloe to double check for me. You both came up with different solutions."

"Let me see." Eli looked down at the pages, scanning his eyes over the numbers and letters and symbols, comparing one to the other. At the end he frowned. "What are you talking about? They're exactly the same."

"Look at them!"

"I am looking at them! They're exactly the same!"

Rush jabbed his finger against one of the numbers. "Look here. What do you see?"

"A four," Eli said flatly.

With his other hand, Rush pointed to the same problem on the other page. "And here?"

"Also a four," Eli replied.

Rush paused. He stared at the fours, back and forth, as if he could not comprehend what he was seeing. "Why do they look so different?" he asked softly.

Rush wasn't the type to make jokes, or play stupid, or waste time. Eli could feel his annoyance slowly slipping into something more like worry. He looked helplessly to Brody, who watched silently. "Because they're in different handwriting," he said carefully. "I wrote this one, Chloe wrote that one. That's all."

Rush stared at the problem and didn't answer. He kept his head low, either thinking or embarrassed or tired or something else. "Well," he said after a long pause, clearing his throat and collecting the papers once again, "glad we got that sorted out."

Eli decided he really was worried now. "Are you sure you're all right? When is the last time you ate?"

Rush rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "About an hour ago."

"Well…" Eli shrugged. "Maybe you're hungry again."

"I'm not."

"Then you're probably tired," Eli said. "Go get some sleep."

With a sigh Rush leaned back against the chair. "I don't think that's the problem, Eli."

"What is the problem?"

Rush pulled himself to his feet. "I need a break. Can you handle it here for a bit?"

Eli could, of course, but Rush was gone before he could even answer. He looked to Brody again, who was still watching him with very wide, very concerned eyes.

Not the same eyes the colonel was giving him now, as he related the story to him. At the end of it, he shrugged.

"It's so unlike him," he said. "Don't you think it's weird?"

Colonel Young sighed. "It is unusual for him to make such a simple mistake, but he had been up all day and night. You're probably right about him just being tired."

Eli felt a little of the fear lift. "You think so? Because I tell you, I was up all night worrying about it."

Young smiled a little. "You were probably so tired that you couldn't focus on not thinking about it."

Eli considered that. "Huh."

"Did he come back after he left?"

"No. I didn't see him again before I hit the hay around 5:00. Err…1700."

Young smiled again. "Five is fine."

Eli felt himself smile. "Anyway, I talked to T.J., and she said she would ask him."

Young just nodded. "Very good. If anything is wrong, she'll find it. But chances are it's just Rush being Rush."

Eli nodded, even though dread still curled like a worm in his belly.

"Where is he now?"

"Uh, the bridge, I think. I haven't actually seen him but Brody told me he was there."

Young sighed. "He was supposed to use the stones."

Oh, right. Eli grimaced. "You might want to remind him."

Young reached for his radio on the table beside his bed. "Rush, this is Young, what are you doing?"

Eli was not surprised when he received no answer.

The colonel didn't try again. He just looked to Eli, then at the door. "I'd like to get dressed, if you don't mind."

"Oh! Right."

—

"Something is wrong," was what Eli had told T.J. in the Mess that morning. "Seriously. It was so weird."

She had shrugged and stirred her rations. One hand was propping her up on the table, the other making abstract art in her bowl. "Maybe he's just tired. We're all kind of wound up lately knowing we're going home."

She heard Eli sigh. "This is a different kind of wound up," he said. "If fact, he's not wound up. I know he's usually high-strung and running around, but he's so…slow lately. You should see him at night. He just sits in the observation deck and stares. But it's like he's not looking at anything. I know he's depressed and all, but I thought he got over that weeks ago."

She shrugged again and pushed her bowl aside. "Well, I can talk to him, but I don't know that it'll do any good."

Eli looked dissatisfied and annoyed. "I guess that'll be good enough," he said curtly, standing and walking away.

Tamara sighed silently. She couldn't fault Eli for his attitude, if she was honest. Medical personnel were supposed to show concern for their patients. Rush had been her patient several times, but even though he was not easy to take care of, she still had an obligation to try. Fine. Next time she saw him, she would ask him.

She stayed there for awhile. Just staring. Not eating, not thinking. She wasn't hungry. At all. Her stomach felt like lead. She sighed, then scoffed. Stop it, Tamara. This was your decision and you don't get to feel sorry for yourself. She picked up her bowl and stood, then froze. I didn't mean right now. Rush was just entering, taking a spot in line behind Brody and Greer at the serving station. He kept his eyes on his notebook and a hand on the back of his neck, kneading the muscles.

She walked her bowl over to the pile of dirty dishes and then went to stand at Rush's side. "Hey there."

He nodded without looking up. "Hello."

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Fine, why?"

She shrugged, trying for casual, but knowing he was hard to fool. "Just checking. You look a little tired."

He turned up his face to her, studied her for a second, then looked down again. "So do you."

Yeah, she thought. Oh well. No point in prolonging this encounter. "I just mean you look like you don't feel well."

He probably sensed her significative tone, but he didn't react to it. "I'm rather hungry, to be honest," he answered, taking his bowl of rations with a thank-you to Becker. He went to a table, and she followed him. When he didn't send her away, she sat across.

"Besides being hungry," she pressed. "Eli said you had some kind of problem earlier."

He scoffed. "Eli talks a lot," he said. "It wasn't a problem, it was a mistake, and it wasn't a big deal. I would appreciate it if he wouldn't go around telling people every time I miscalculate something."

"Does it happen often?" she joked.

He just stared at his bowl and didn't answer.

Her smile left. "Look, I just want to make sure you're all right. Sleeping okay? How's your appetite?"

He smiled a little. "Fine, and fine. And what about you, Lieutenant? How are you sleeping? Are you getting enough to eat?"

She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or genuinely curious. Worry for her would seem rather outside his normal scope of concern, but sarcasm would be plain cruel. She did not deign to answer. "I just want to make sure everyone is okay," she concluded.

At that he paused. He finally looked up at her and said, "Everyone is fine, with all thanks to you. The crew is going home, and probably no one will know just how much you gave up for them."

She bit her lip a little bit. Lowering her voice, she said, "We agreed not to talk about it again."

"You brought it up."

She clamped her mouth shut. It was a mercy that Colonel Young walked up at that moment, because she couldn't bear the puncturing stare Rush was giving her. The colonel nodded at her, and she automatically nodded back.

"What are you doing here?" the colonel asked the scientist. "Why is your radio off?"

Rushed reached for the radio on his belt, but it wasn't there. He seemed confused. "Uh, I must have left it in my quarters."

"You were supposed to use the communication stones thirty minutes ago."

Rush looked sincerely startled. "Oh. Right. Sorry, Colonel, it must have slipped my mind. I'll go now."

He got up and went away with the colonel following, leaving her sitting there annoyed. Show a little concern and see what it gets you? She involuntarily raised a hand to the sore lump under her ear, trying to comfort herself in the knowledge that she wouldn't have to deal with him much longer. She wouldn't have to deal with anything much longer. It failed to make her feel better. In fact, it just made her feel sick.

She got up and retreated to the safety of her infirmary.

—

"Telford does not like to be kept waiting," Everett informed Rush as they reached the lab.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Rush sat in the chair and placed his stone on the plate, and soon his posture and poise straightened as Telford came through.

"David?" Everett said, just to make sure.

Telford in Rush's body smiled, but his face instantly twisted in something suspiciously like pain. He put one hand on his head and the other over his stomach. "Oh, man, what is wrong with this guy?"

Everett blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Telford coughed. "I feel like crap."

"You look like crap." He shrugged. "Rush didn't really have a chance to hit the Mess, so maybe you're just hungry. Let's go." He stood, pulling Telford to his feet. They went along, checked all the way by Telford's shuffling, but eventually made it to the mess hall. They sat at a table and accepted their rations from Becker.

"Ugh," said Telford, staring down at the thin, bland whatever-it-was in his bowl. "You're still eating this stuff? No wonder you all look so pale."

"Well, you are what you eat," Everett said with a shrug. He swallowed a mouthful. "We managed to get some meat on board yesterday, but it won't last long. Let me tell you, the first thing I'm going to do when I get back to Earth is order a giant ribeye steak smothered in cheese and onions."

Telford laughed lightly. "Baked potato?"

"Absolutely." His mouth watered just thinking about it.

"Apple pie?" Telford teased.

Everett groaned. "David, please, don't give me a reason to hate this place even more."

Telford swallowed a mouthful of water from his mug. "Tell you what. Once my shift is over tonight, I'll go have one myself in your honor."

Everett snorted, but the smile remained. "That's so helpful, thank you."

Telford chuckled. He stared down into his bowl again, then pushed it to the side. "If he's hungry when he gets back, he can choke this stuff down. No offense to the chef."

Everett shook his head. "I'm sure Becker will be glad to get back to Earth and have real food to work with."

"Got that right," Becker muttered from the cooking station.

Telford smiled. "Just a couple more weeks."

Everett felt a weariness behind his eyes, in his gut, in his face. "Doesn't sound like that much after five years, but you know what? It is. I keep waiting for it to get easier."

"It will." Telford sighed, massaging the back of his neck in a Rush-like fashion. "Then you're going to look back on all that crap you went through and - well, you probably won't laugh, but at least you'll know it's over."

Everett nodded. "It's almost time for an end of the bad days."

Telford shifted, apparently uncomfortable and not used to the hard benches. He cleared his throat. "So, what can I tell Homeworld Command? Any problems, issues?"

"None to speak of. Everyone's getting restless, but that's normal. After a disease broke out recently we've been trying to stay on the ship as much as we can, not only to actually get there faster, but because we don't want to introduce anything onto the ship that might delay our arrival. Eli ate some fruit yesterday without testing it first, but so far he seems fine. I swear, that kid sometimes…The last thing I want is for someone to get poisoned in the final leg. We managed to head off the illness before it caused any fatalities but it got real close. Our luck is going to run out sooner or later, though."

Telford nodded. "We've been monitoring Wallace's mother. During those three years she didn't hear from him, she deteriorated quite a bit. Since we told her he was fine she has shown some improvement, but…she doesn't look good, Everett."

Everett had people monitoring everything around the clock and so far all was going according to plan. He told Telford as much.

Telford nodded. "She knows he's coming home. I thought she could use the hope."

"Good call. What about the other families?"

Telford smiled. "Lieutenant Johansen's family calls us up every other day to make sure it's still happening. Chloe's mother has practically moved in to the Pentagon while she waits. I talked to Sergeant Riley's parents, but once they learned they would not be receiving his body they decided that they didn't want to be there for the arrival. Can't say I blame them."

Everett shook his head. Of all the people they'd lost, Riley was one of those that hurt the most.

"There are going to be a lot of happy people when you guys get back home, Everett." Telford's smile narrowed a little, and he stroked his brow nervously with a trembling hand. "Of course, there are going to be some pretty unhappy people too. Listen, this is kind of hush-hush, but there's another reason I'm here. They sent me to make sure everything is still on course, but what they really wanted to do was talk to Rush."

Everett nodded. "I'm sure they did. I can't imagine why else they would insist that he switch with you."

Telford looked around, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. "They want to try to work out with him once and for all whether he could have safely dialed Earth from Icarus."

Everett didn't understand right away. "I can't imagine why that would be a secret. It sounds like something they would do."

"They've got Williams working on it."

Everett stared at him. "Seriously?"

Telford shrugged. "He's eager to accomplish something successful, after what happened last time."

"Well, at least we're not at risk of the ship exploding this time around."

Telford was not quite as amused. He sighed. "Anyway, they've been running numbers forever and they think they're close to an answer."

"Why do they need Rush?"

"Because he was the lead scientist for a reason. There's no one else who's qualified to confirm their findings."

Everett laughed. "And they actually trust him?"

Telford made a tch sound. "Well, no, but it's not like they have a fallback."

"Come on, David, you mean that there is no other mathematician on the entire planet who can verify some numbers?"

Telford rubbed his face. "It's not just the numbers. We need someone with knowledge of Stargate technology, the Ancient language, properties of Naquadria, Destiny's power requirements…Rush is the only one who fits the bill."

"What about Carter or McKay?"

"McKay is consulting. Carter doesn't know Destiny."

"What about Jackson?"

"It was Jackson's idea to recruit Rush in the first place."

"So what?"

Telford shrugged and didn't answer.

"What about Wallace?" Everett said. "He succeeded where Rush couldn't. He'd be able to catch something."

Telford averted his eyes. "It's complicated."

Everett frowned. "Complicated how?"

Telford let out a short breath and raised a hand to his head. "Let's just say there's a lot of politics involved."

Everett stared at him. Rush's face was pale, but also unusually flushed, and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. "David, are you all right?"

Telford pushed up on the table, standing to his feet, with a hand on his stomach. A tremor passed over him. "I really don't feel well," he whispered.

"Well, sit down. Try to eat something."

Telford hitched and clamped a hand over his mouth, and then suddenly he was vomiting, crashing to the floor, his other hand flying up to grip his head as he went down.

"David!" Everett scrambled off his bench and fell beside him. Telford heaved again, his insides flooding out red between his fingers. Everett grabbled for his radio and shouted into it, "T.J., this is Young! Get to the Mess, now!"

If she answered, he didn't hear. He helped Telford lie on the ground and held his burning head, yelling at him to keep him conscious, and definitely not looking at the pool of blood growing around him.