Chapter 2
Magnum Said There'd be Days Like This
Pause! Exit! Ouch! John's eyes snapped open and the lurid, aquamarine light filled up his retinas.
"You okay, sir?" Lorne hovered over him on one side of the chair and Pondo did the same on the other side. "Sir?"
It took him a minute to catch up, ruminate over what had happened, and then venomously glare at Pondo. "No one said anything about excruciating pain," John said caustically. Then he looked over at his team and became alarmed. "Why aren't they awake?"
"This is a complete immersion into the game. Your body and mind will react as if you are in the real world. There are just no after effects when you quit." Pondo stopped and looked at the others. "As for them, they are still playing. Do you wish to stop or continue?"
He really did not think he had a choice. If they had not left, then they still thought he was playing. "Continue. But Lorne…"
"My eyes are wide open, sir."
John nodded and closed his eyes, only to reopen them in the back of an ambulance. Roy DeSoto, or his V.R. copy, was taking his blood pressure and Mr. T was sitting next to him. It took John a moment to realize that Mr. T. had dreadlocks instead of a Mohawk and looked remarkably like Ronon. After closer inspection, Roy actually had sharper features than he remembered and his hair was farther back than what he remembered. There was something about the eyes…
"Sheppard. What happened? You wouldn't wake up." Ronon was scrunched into the back of the ambulance and hanging on for dear life as they turned a corner.
Roy continued to talk on his radio (the really cool phone that John remembered wanting when he was in elementary school) and taking vitals.
"I woke up in the game room. I found out we can leave the game at anytime, so there's that."
"Yeah."
"Where's Rodney and Teyla?" or as he liked to think of them, Crockett and Lacey.
"Looking for the bomb. Once we're done at the hospital, we'll go to Club Daedalus."
Everything blacked out for a moment like they were returning from commercial and then John was in a hospital bed with a rumpled surface of white filling his vision. The hated penlight appeared and spotted his vision. He also noticed a name tag, but could only make out four letters: C-K-E-T-T. His eyes blinked a few times in rapid succession. After the spots receded to an annoyance, he noticed the R and the A behind the B and realized it wasn't who he thought it was.
As the man pulled back, he wore a polyester blue shirt and psychedelic, polyester striped pants. He too had dark hair, but was taller and skinnier than John's first assumption. His first name was Kelly and John let his disappointment ebb just a little. John finally noticed his arm was in a cast and the doctor was explaining the cast would need to stay on for a few weeks. He kept rattling on about how his hip was not broken, just severely bruised all the way to the bone. He also had a mild concussion and was a very lucky man.
"Next time, drive the fancy sports car, not wear it," Dr. Kelly Brackett sternly warned him. But Brackett's face was slightly distorted and was trying to morph into a more seventies kind of illusion. The hair on his head spiked for a moment before returning to a curlier style. Like Teyla's clothing, it was having trouble adjusting.
Ronon hung back and listened. He also seemed a little disoriented with the abrupt shift, but did not stay that way for long. He also stared at Brackett, but kept his indifferent air. John was certain that Ronon had been having similar thoughts and disappointments as to the doctor's identity.
So intent on Ronon, John almost missed the, "And you're free to go," from the TV doctor.
He sat up, swung his legs over the edge and grabbed his shirt, which was draped across a chair. He studied it for a moment. The bright green leaves and yellow flowers looked almost real instead of printed on a piece of fabric. As he had the thought, before his eyes, the fabric made the adjustment to look more like a Hawaiian shirt instead of a postcard picture. The game was apparently learning as it went along.
He also had this emptiness in him. There was a moment when he realized he truly had expected to see another face even after he read the name tag. More accurately, someone was missing who should have been playing Dr. Kelly Brackett.
"You okay?" Ronon asked pushing off the antiseptic, tile wall.
"Yeah, just marveling at this environment." John slipped the shirt on and accepted a helping hand from B.A. Baracus. "Well, let's get this show on the road." He gimped out the door and down the long corridor.
They exited the hospital and John whistled for a cab. A sea foam green car pulled up and they got inside it. "Club Daedalus," Ronon said. John wanted to ask how he knew what to do and then remembered. Of course there had been movie nights, but Ronon had gotten to see it first hand when he had visited Earth.
He said nothing and got off that train of thought, because they needed to find out what they could about this incredibly cool environment. Could this simulated world be a vacation spot, a training exercise, or a mortal peril that was slowly killing them with fun? Robot's arms flailed in his head again, but he knew they could exit when they wanted, so he said nothing, again.
The driver looked into the rearview mirror and nodded.
"What do we know so far?" John plainly asked.
"We need to stop Caldwell. We need to find the bomb. We need to make it back home before dinner because it's spaghetti night. They have garlic bread. I love garlic bread," Ronon said with a glassy look in his eye and a dopey smile on his face.
"Well then, let's get this episode moving because we can't miss that."
The cab driver glanced back at them in the rearview mirror. "So where you fellas from?"
"Atlanta," John said with an exaggerated Southern drawl. "Here on business. Got a meeting and then we're hitting the attractions."
"Been here all of my adult life. Haven't left in what seems like eons. You get familiar with a place and don't want to leave, but sometimes it gets a little boring. Have to spice it up-- travel a bit-- meet new people. Very important to see how others live so you appreciate what you have." The cabby's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Well, here we are! That'll be $7.50."
John reached into his back pocket and found a wallet. He pulled out a ten. "Keep the change."
The cabby accepted it and smiled. Then he held up the bill and yelled, "Thanks!"
"Can you wait here? We won't be long," John asked before he stepped away from the car.
"No problem."
Ronon and John stood on the sidewalk looking at the nondescript front door to the club. It was a white cinderblock building with mirrored swinging glass doors. The sign in the pane of glass said closed, but the door that was ajar said, 'Come on in.' It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dark interior, .
"I don't like this." Ronon grabbed his shoulder and pulled John behind him. John rolled his eyes in quiet protest.
They walked slowly over Terrazzo flooring and around tall tables and bar stools. They squinted trying to make out shapes in the dark. The florescent light blinked on blinding them and then a voice greeted them. "If it isn't the private dick and his sidekick. What are you doing walking in here like this?" Caldwell sat at a corner booth near a stage in the back of the room.
Blinking, Sheppard decided to play along. "Caldwell, good to see you too." Two large goons approached and patted Ronon and him down.
"They're not packing, sir."
"Have a seat gentlemen. Can I get you a drink?"
"Little early for me. How about you Ronon?"
"I'm good." Ronon kept an-- I've got a secret and I'm not telling-- expression on his face.
"Your boss sent you here to find out if I'm responsible for the bomb, am I right?" Caldwell leaned back in the booth and confidently smirked.
John gave an acquiescing half nod of his head. He linked his fingers and rested his elbows on the arms of the barrel shaped chairs.
"She's not the only one who has people with access. I'm being framed, by the way." The smirk never left Caldwell's face. The goons even snickered quietly and shared in the private joke.
"Right, because you are such a choir boy." Sheppard let his own smirk settle on his lips. "What do you want?"
"I want her out of business. I want Atlantis for my very own. I want it all, but I'm not the one you should be worried about. There are other factions looking to claim that prime piece of real estate for their very own."
Oh no, John could see where this scenario might possibly be going.
"K and K Ventures is looking for a foothold into this market. They have some very powerful backers but very little business savvy. So much money to be made and all they can think to do is threaten people. Amateurs. They're showing their roots." Caldwell laughed at his own joke. "You should really go talk to them."
Rodney had said this was going to be easy. Rodney had said this was from their minds and their experiences, so how hard could this be? Very, John thought.
"Got a pay phone?" he asked.
Caldwell's arrogant smile broadened and pointed to the side where the restrooms were.
"We aren't through," John said and motioned for Ronon to go with him. "Let's call the hotel and see how Rodney and Teyla are fairing."
When they reached the back, John picked up the cord that should have had a phone book. "Swell, now what?"
Automatic weapons fire erupted from the room sending Sheppard and Ronon ducking behind a wall. Shouting and return fire echoed from the cavernous room. The gunfire, sizzling sparks, and glass shattering drowned out anything either one of them said. John finally pointed to the door next to the Ladies' room. EMERGENCY EXIT was written over it. He figured this qualified. Staying low, they scrambled into the back alley and kept on running. As they hit the sidewalk, the cab screeched to a stop right in front of them.
"Figured you guys would need a ride when I saw those two heavies enter. Hard to conceal an AK-47 underneath Cuban dress shirts." Before they closed the door, the cab spun its wheels and tore off down the empty street.
"Where to?"
"Hotel Atlantis," John rasped out. He looked at Ronon. "You okay?"
Ronon nodded and leaned back in the seat. "Are we done playing yet?"
"I am. My hip hurts, my head's throbbing and my arm already itches. Let's get back to the hotel, get Rodney and Teyla, and quit this."
"Sounds like a plan." Ronon looked relieved at the suggestion.
They sat in silence as the cabby drove. He kept flicking his eyes back at them from time to time but, unlike most cabbies John had met, he kept his mouth shut. Finally, they stopped in front of the hotel.
"What do we owe you?" Ronon asked.
"This one is on me, fellas. As I said, it gets boring and you added a little spice. Thanks."
John snorted, closed the door, and walked with Ronon into the main lobby. "Rodney! Teyla! We're back!"
There was no answer. The adrenaline-spiked nervousness returned. It was too quiet. Ronon felt it too.
"It's too quiet. If there's something I've learned, it's that McKay is never quiet," Ronon said in a voice just above a whisper.
"Maybe they're in the basement," John conjectured. The bomb would be placed to bring the whole place down. It had to be on some sort of support that would cripple the building. "Let's take the stairs."
They entered the stairwell and jogged down them. They quietly exited and knew they had the right place.
"Son of a bitch!"
It was not even yelled. It was just said with such malice that John figured the bomb should have just melted and disintegrated into nothingness.
"Maybe there's a …" he heard Teyla say.
"Maybe? There's nothing. There're no wires, or antennas, or clocks counting down. There's no nothing, Teyla! How am I supposed to fix this?"
"Maybe the Colonel and Ronon will have some information?"
"Yeah, but this just makes no sense."
"What doesn't, Rodney?" John asked as they rounded a corner. The scene answered his question. A ZPM was glued to a column and flashed periodically. "Never mind."
"John, Ronon, good to see you. We have a slight problem."
"Slight, she is the mistress of understatement. There's no way to diffuse this "bomb" and…and…well, that's basically it in a nutshell." He actually used air quotes when he said bomb. Merideth Rodney "Sonny Crockett" McKay looked exasperated, flustered and grouchy.
"Well, I've had enough. Ronon and I want to go home. What say you two?"
"Here, here!" Rodney exclaimed.
"Not so fast," a gravelly voice purred behind him.
"Rodney, please tell me it's not who I think it is."
"If you think it's the Easter Bunny, then it's not. If you think it's Kolya, then it is."
Crap.
"There's someone else with him though."
"Kell," growled Ronon.
Teyla had the same angry look that John was sure he was wearing. "Tell me about Kell later. I don't have time for…"
"Of course you do, Sheppard," Kolya sneered. "We want Atlantis and if we can't have it, then nobody can."
"Our employer won't sell and blowing the place up won't solve anything." Then, John thought, why am I trying to negotiate? He looked at the team and started to say, "Pause game," when Kolya decided to ignite the bomb.
There was no time to scream as flesh burned from his body and he awakened in the game room. All four of them shot off their chairs as the tendrils released their hold on the skin. "Holy crap! No Lorne this is not a gaming paradise!" His skin burned and his brain still registered the dissipating heat.
Rodney was shaking. Teyla and Ronon were looking for someone to fight. Lorne nodded his head, "Understood, sir."
Pondo, for his part, looked confused. "I do not understand. You did not have a pleasant experience?"
"Does getting nuked sound like fun to you, Pongo?" yelled Rodney. "Geez, I'm going to have nightmares about this."
Ronon and Teyla said nothing but glared in agreement.
"We're leaving," Sheppard ordered. He shoved his feet back into his boots and grabbed his gear.
Pondo chased after them. "I'm sorry! This has never happened before."
"Well, now it has. Look, we'll be in touch about other opportunities but right now, no thanks."
The Lanteans headed down the glowing hallways leaving Pondo alone in the aquamarine light.
"Sorry, sir. My little excursion had me in Pamela Anderson's loving touch after nearly drowning…the drowning part sucked but the rescue…" Lorne had a longing smile on his face.
"Oh shut up!" Rodney yelled. "I don't need to hear about that when all I got to see was Teyla in a business suit and a bomb."
Teyla smacked him in the back of head.
"What?"
John loved his team. They were such kids sometimes. "It's okay, Major. That would have been better than Col. Caldwell and Dr. Brackett. I didn't even get to see Dixie McCall."
Lorne almost snorted his answer of, "Yes sir."
They came to the elevator leading back to the surface and Teyla ran her hand across the sensor. The doors opened to a large freight styled car. Both teams piled in and Ronon pressed the sensor for above ground. The car was missing music. They needed to hear Muskrat Love in Muzak to make this day complete. As the doors opened to the blinding light of the sun shining off a metallic surface in the lobby of the Gaming building, Sheppard could have sworn he heard high-pitched warbling. They walked through the light and into the lobby.
Shaking off muskrat Susie and muskrat Sam, he made his way to the square of the little city and dialed home. Everything went as clockwork and Elizabeth greeted them from the balcony, "Don't move."
The two teams stopped and waited for her to descend the stairway.
"Major Winchester's team is overdue. They may be in a firefight with some locals. Can you take your two teams and mount a rescue?"
John thought, sure, why not. He'd only been hit by a car, shot at by thugs, and nuked. What was one little rescue mission?
But first, he was starving.
TBC…