Murphy's First Law: "All things work toward decay."
by Fandomatic
•
Murphy's Law of Possession:
"One good turn gets most of the blankets."
The runner swung his attention from the gate area and focused on the Atlantis military leader. It didn't surprise Ronon Dex that Sheppard was about to crack. Now, as the three McKays joined ranks at the rail, their body language made it clear. They were united and shoring up defenses.
"MaKay-sss!" John hissed with promises of asses handed out.
Below, the blue-faced McKay responded to his mangled name and his eyes took in the unlikely sight of almost three identical mirrors of himself — almost identical, because the first McKay had a slightly distinguished red rash developing over his cheeks and hands. The fourth McKay's red mouth made a perfect circle in the blue paint as everyone ignored him except the gate sergeant.
Caldwell poked the middle McKay in the chest with an angry finger. "Just what do you mean by looping?"
Colonel Caldwell frowned in confusion when Slippered McKay to the left answered, "Look, there's only a few ways for matter to transfer through the gate, and the key to that statement is transfer."
Sockered McKay of the knitted-kind proved he wasn't sockered at all. "The transfer comes from a source, be it power, gate, another reality, or another time — without getting into E=MC squared."
It just confused Ronon more as Slippered McKay took up the lecture again. "Looping means just that. The wormhole isn't reproducing a recording from the extra power boost. It's actually connected to the event. We're hearing a repetition of the past, or rather — er, twenty-two seconds of it."
Sneakers McKay smoothed his poked jacket. "As soon as I realized there was an effect on time, I realized we had to be dealing with a past event."
"You mean it's stuck on rewind?" Sheppard fairly glowered.
At the same time all three McKay's started snapping their fingers. It was a little disconcerting that they all clicked in unison.
Sockered McKay began, "The ZedPM must be powering the progressive jump in time…"
"But the echo happens before the jump…" Sneakers Rodney shared an excited look with Sockered McKay.
"But that's impossible without…" Slippered McKay joined the other two in enthusiasm.
Woolsey demanded impatiently, "What's impossible?"
Sockered McKay came out of his self-congratulatory convention first. "An outside source generated the first echo!"
The three McKays looked at each other and chorused, "It's not a natural malfunction!"
The Rodney in the middle started an explanation that bounced back and forth between the McKays too fast for Ronon to track which one was talking. "That means we might be able to control it … Something specific is affecting the gate from the moment it engaged to the moment I stepped out of the event horizon … The echo copied my pattern before I stepped through the event horizon … When I rematerialized on this side of the gate, the gate reproduced the echo … We must have carried it through the gate!" In unison, their eyes dropped to the blue-faced McKay with the ceremonial stick at his feet.
Sneakers McKay scratched his reddening face. "The Ancient gene test … they made such a big deal about it. … Oh God, it must be gene-sensitive!" He pointed in dismay at the carved stick.
Sheppard whispered, "We've been shafted."
Dex exchanged a promising look with Teyla and her tawny eyes agreed with him that some monks were about to lose the use of their arms.
Sheppard ordered one of the security guards to gather up all the ceremonial sticks as the McKays urged Caldwell to land his ship before they lost communication with them. Each time the gate looped time, the time-dilation field became stronger and slowed their progress. Caldwell reluctantly agreed and beamed away to supervise the task.
As the marine plunked four identically carved ceremonial sticks into McKay's red hands, John growled, "It's time to start earning that quarter of your pay." His meaning was unmistakable. Ronon didn't think McKay was trying very hard to end the McKay parade either.
"Quarter? What do you mean…? Mr. Woolsey?"
"Dr. McKay, this is not the time to address a pay issue."
"Yes, but how am I suppose to survive on a quarter of my earnings? This is clearly a mission complication!" Armed with the sticks, McKay shook them meaningfully at the Atlantis Commander.
"We simply don't have the budget for this."
As the other Rodneys joined the argument with Woolsey, Ronon caught John's silent order and pulled Teyla away from the group. Dex flexed his hand and hoped John had a plan of attack. He was becoming restless with all the McKay action.
Sheppard dashed his hopes of combat with his first words, "Look at him. He loves this. He's in heaven and I'm in hell."
"I, too, believe Dr. McKay is holding back," Teyla quietly agreed. "I do not believe he really wants this to end."
"We need to fix him or we're gonna get stuck with more … hims," John growled.
"Rodney never liked sharing," Teyla suggested and her gaze dropped to his several pairs of feet in various stages of dress.
Dex realized that neither one of them knew what made McKay tick. They were going to botch it. "Bet I can fix him."
They looked at Ronon in surprise. But when Sheppard glanced at Teyla, her mouth thinned, and the Colonel turned to glare at him. "Like you fixed him before?"
"Ronon," Teyla warned.
Undeterred, Ronon tossed his long dreadlocks behind a shoulder and challenged, "Bet I can fix him before you can."
"What Is this? A race?" Sheppard looked even madder as he invaded his space.
"John," Teyla grabbed his arm.
Ronon shrugged and crossed his arms. "I know what's bugging him."
That stopped Sheppard cold. "Really?"
Ronon grinned. From the look on his face, Sheppard didn't have a clue. "You take these guys and I'll take the new one."
"Something's bugging him?" Sheppard blinked.
Ronon Dex shook his head. He wasn't going to make it easy for Sheppard. "Three to one, but I'll still beat you."
"How could you not notice his excessively sour disposition lately?" Teyla gestured with frustration.
"Fine," John's eyes narrowed. "You can start with him." He pointed down into the atrium.
Ronon swiveled and bounded down the side stairs. He felt Sheppard's glare nailing a hole in his back, but he was grateful for the chance to redeem himself. It was obvious Sheppard thought he would apologize to the McKays, but that wouldn't motivate them.
In the background, he heard a McKay continue his case, or cases. "There are four state of the art computers down there, not to mention military supplies. Technically, they don't exist and the paperwork for same serial-numbered equipment would be—"
As Ronon neared the bottom of the stairs, he heard John's voice explode through the foyer. "McKay!"
The Satedan smirked because Sheppard's anger wouldn't work either. McKay could give as good as he got.
As his long strides closed the distance between him and his quarry, he sized up his competition. McKay already looked skittish and ready to bolt under the blue paint. The fourth McKay shot a terrified look toward his counterpart teammates up on the control room balcony and his eyes widened in horror when they completely ignored him.
Ronon knew how he felt, stripped of his arms and relieved of his boots by the gate sergeant, standing barefoot and exposed in what he thought was an enemy's camp. Just as Dex loomed over him with his intimidating height and the poor scientist looked ready to soil his pants, McKay found his tenuous courage and stiffened his spine.
"Ronon?" he questioned as his chin lifted in defiance.
"McKay," Dex grunted. It never failed to amuse him that Rodney could quail like a little girl until the absolute last second. "Come on. We're going to isolation." He started McKay toward the hallways.
Right on cue, McKay resisted and stuttered, "B-b-but what about my team? Ronon, they're right behind me! You, Teyla and Sheppard. They're good guys. Don't shoot them!" He pointed back at the staging area where the gate remained activated and the blue light filled the atrium with flexing reflections.
The plea earned a grunt of grudging respect from the Satedan. "They're already here," Ronon said and easily manhandled him into the hall.
"What do you mean they're here?" McKay's feet slapped the tiled floor as they approached the stairs and Dex guided him onto the landing. He turned on his flashlight and led the way down into the darkness.
"You're late … again." Ronon's voice echoed into the well.
"What? That doesn't make any sense. They were right behind me! What is this place? What happened to the lights? How'd you pull me into your reality and what kind of reality is this that needs four of me and still doesn't have lights? What's going on? Oh, God, I must be desperate. Look who I'm asking! It's Conan. It's obvious why they sent you. You're going to coerce me into helping you do some diabolical plan for the evil McKay who is kidnapping—"
Ronon smothered his grin. "Don't you ever shut up?"
"Certain doom has that effect on me. I tend to babble and verbalize anything that pops into my head — and that's a considerable amount of popping considering it's my head…" McKay's worried blue eyes darted over the stoic runner. "I-I-I'll shut up now."
Dex counted six peaceful landings before Rodney McKay burst out at the next turn of the stairs. "Look, what happened to the transporters and why is it getting hotter? I'm going to get a blister the size of a walnut here if we continue down these stairs the entire way! You have no idea what I've gone through today. You see this paint? Well, it's itchy and it evidently attracts large stinging bugs in swarms! So you see I can face anything, because nothing compares to the misery that I've already gone through in the last three days!"
Ronon took the hallway toward the medical facilities and hid his smirk. "If it bothers you, I know a trick to take your mind off it."
"Aw, no!" Rodney shot him a murderous glare. "I'm not falling for that trick again! You can keep your sadistic Satedan tricks to yourself. No more helpful shoves…" McKay faltered as his mind caught up with his mouth. He stopped short and his jaw dropped as Ronon grinned at him. "You shoved me into the bog!"
Ronon pointed toward the isolation door. "You forgot about the face paint, didn't you?"
McKay missed a couple of beats as he gaped at him, trying to comprehend the fact that they shared the same history. "I stepped up to my knee in slime! Of course I forgot about the paint — I had mud between my toes and a boot full of stinking bog!"
As he ushered McKay into isolation, Ronon spotted Keller up on the observation deck and abandoned McKay to Carson Beckett with a pat on the back and a quick, "See you later." McKay looked properly terrified and confused with his promise as he left.
Ronon tied his long locks back with a leather thong as he bounded up to the observation room where Jennifer Keller worked over a microscope. He'd been avoiding her since she'd dumped him, so he was surprised at how easy he felt seeing her. She reminded him of his former life and that familiarity felt nice.
"Jennifer."
"Hey, Ronon. You're late," she said without looking up. "He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Carson doesn't even have his blood ready for me."
"It's getting tense upstairs."
"I can believe that." Jennifer spared him an amused smile. "What happened?"
Dex glanced down at a confused Rodney submitting to Carson's care and tried to look contrite at the uncertainty reflected in Rodney's manner. "I'm no good at talking, Jennifer." He gestured at McKay below them. "I made him worse."
Jennifer rose in alarm from her lab work and joined him at the glass. "Who? Rodney?"
"Yeah."
"What'd you say to him—? Never mind." Dr. Keller patted his arm. "Don't worry. I'll talk to him, Ronon."
"You should catch the show upstairs," Ronon suggested as she smiled softly at the blue face below them.
She quickly shook her head. "I'm not sure I can get away."
Dex scowled down at the new blue Rodney and the scientist noticed his displeasure with open nervousness. While Beckett tried to get him to wash his face off on a wet towel, Rodney suddenly didn't want to cooperate either. Even Keller wasn't cooperating. Ronon swiftly realized he was looking at the solution and his scowl faded.
"You sure? McKay's got a rash."
"Really? Why didn't he call me? Where?"
"All over his face and hands."
Keller cued her headset. "Carson, I need a sample of that blue paint before you wash it off. McKay developed a rash." Below, Carson waved at her and put down the towel. Jennifer turned back to Ronon. "I'll make a house call. You're off the hook, Ronon. I'll bring him up when we're done with him … along with a cure for the McKays."
Ronon shrugged. "I can wait. I'll help you carry up what you need."
"You're a good friend, Ronon." Jennifer Keller smiled up at him before she became a little nervous. "I'll just… I better go talk to Rodney now."
Ronon Dex grinned and looked forward to Sheppard's grumpy admiration. All he had to do was sit back and wait for the McKays to calculate the odds of winning Jennifer from themselves in the future. His little ego trip was about to end.
•
The fourth McKay, barefoot and cranky with Ronon after he discovered that he was his Ronon, gingerly climbed the stairs between the Satedan and Dr. Keller. His competitive nature led him to insert himself between the two and actually keep up the pace. He directed glares at Ronon but no amount of insisting would make Ronon give up the small case he carried for Dr. Keller.
Ronon easily fell back into the familiar pattern of competition with McKay, who obviously hadn't been notified he'd already won. It was fun to tease the little geek again. At least now, he no longer wanted to kill him. Shoving the whiny scientist into the bog had been the most cathartic and cleansing steam-letting he'd allowed himself to do in a long, long time.
Ronon smirked as they reached the control room and Keller hurried off to attend to the rash breaking out on the first McKay's face. The sight of Jennifer fussing over another McKay made the fourth Rodney hesitate — just like the Sockered McKay in the room. But Slippered McKay was nowhere to be seen.
Ronon clapped Barefoot McKay on the shoulder and said smugly, "She doesn't strike me as the sharing type."
Rodney's expression of instant jealousy was almost comical. His bare feet slapped across the floor as he zeroed in on his competition. Ronon could hardly contain his self-satisfied smirk as he joined Sheppard on the gate room balcony.
"What's that expression, eat my dust?" Ronon leaned back against the rail and crossed his arms with glee at the situation developing in the control room. And say goodbye to Jennifer, McKays.
Sheppard watched in awe as Ronon's work rippled like mini bombs going off as every male hormone McKay had turned against each other. In the center ring, a red-faced Rodney basked in the pleasure of Jennifer Keller tenderly spreading a soothing lotion on his face and hands. The fallout began with the fourth Rodney, who demanded to be next in line. Jumping places was instantly unacceptable to Sockered McKay. Jennifer hesitantly tried to stop the three-ring circus surrounding her with the assurance that there was plenty of lotion to go around. A blissful Sneakers McKay only made it worse by declaring the other McKays could just go it alone since he was obviously in such distress. A loud argument broke out as the others started reporting their various minor ailments and the dire consequences of untreated blisters, back aches, and accumulating foot-disorders. The lofty assertion to 'go take a number' by the 'number one' McKay almost started a riot that Jennifer ended by slamming her case closed and yelling, "Rodney!" She looked at the three McKays in the room and ended back on a red-faced Rodney. "This is not working!"
The entire room silently watched her shove the tube into his hands and retreat back down the stairs with her hair flying.
"I better go after—" Ronon looked after Jennifer and stopped when Sheppard grabbed his arm.
"Oh, no you don't," John glared. "I said fix him. Not make it worse."
"I did," Ronon protested and pointed at the reddening faces. "Now he's McKay again."
John's jaw muscles jumped as he watched his red friend take a marker and ink a number one in the narrow blue panel on his uniform and declare, "As the first McKay, I'm not losing my name, my quarters, my salary — meager as it is, my orthopedic mattress, or my slippers to any of you! You're all on your own and will have to fend for yourselves because if you even have half my brain, you can make it work."
"This," Sheppard hissed, "is not fixing him, Ronon."
"He's motivated." Dex grinned and watched Sockered McKay rip into Sneakers McKay for being only an hour and sixteen minutes his senior. Sockered grabbed the pen and quickly drew a four on Barefoot McKay before he turned the marker on himself and wrote a three with a loftier-than-thou expression.
"Not helping," Sheppard growled as Slippered McKay slopped up the side stairs in his blue slippers that were about to be reclaimed by McKay-the-first. He carried one of the carved sticks in his hands and Sheppard quickly went to intercept him before he became part of Ronon's fallout.
Dex meekly followed.
"What's going on?" Rodney asked as he tried to get a clear look at the three McKays in some sort of argument.
"Nothing," John casually blocked his way and indicated the carved stick. "What'd you find out?"
McKay looked down at the elaborately decorated stick and frowned. "Oh, this?" The shaft almost had a black, ebony-like finish with long scrolled leaves carved up along its length like an elongated cabbage with ribbed veins. The tip flowered delicately as the ruffled edges made neat little petals along its bulbous tip. "Uh, it's not an ancient copier. I-I-It's bad news. I opened up one of them — well, I actually had to break it, and..."
"What, Rodney?" Sheppard asked impatiently.
Rodney scratched his reddening cheeks and rambled, "It's not ancient like we thought at first which would've been neat if it was a duplicator. Because if it was a duplicator, there would be a way to turn it off, but it isn't, so the thought thing doesn't work, because that's not what it was designed to do…"
"Umm..." and Ronon got a sinking sensation in his stomach as he looked at the almost black finish. From his suspicious perspective, it looked black, remarkably stick-ish with kind of a creepy, carapace-like quality.
"It's much worse. And before you say anything, there was no way for me to tell what it would do—"
"Rodney!"
"It's Wraith-engineered." Rodney cringed, expecting a negative reaction. He wasn't disappointed.
"Great!" Sheppard's voice pitched an octave higher revealing his stress. "More icing!" and he shot the rest of the McKays a panicked look.
Slippered Rodney started wondering what else was going on with the McKays as he continued. "The shaft doesn't work anywhere but on Atlantis because we have a ZedPM linked into the gate. I think that the Wraith engineered it with a feedback that echoed the gate download and caused the gate to get stuck on rewind. Then it just turned off once it got here."
Ronon Dex stiffened and shifted. "That means it was aimed at us."
"Maybe," Sheppard answered absently as he shifted his focus from the McKays to the shaft. "Or aimed at the ancients, like that locket of Teyla's."
"Whatever! It was aimed at Atlantis and just waiting for my gene and our ZedPM to activate it. The monks probably didn't know what they had — just that it was meant for a gene carrier. I'm working on a math model — well, me, but not me personally—" he corrected and shot a glance at the McKays, "to map the anomaly, but since the Wraith are involved with the anomaly, I think this is bad. I mean really, really bad!"
"You stopped Atlantis from blowing up," Ronon pointed out.
"I seriously doubt that was their end-game!" McKay sarcastically puffed. "They wouldn't go to all the trouble of deploying this weapon without a reasonable expectation of success! Fortunately, we got lucky it replicated me because, if there is anyone capable of reversing this, it's me." With very little warning, he changed directions. "Why do the McKays all have numbers written on their uniforms?"
"They're waiting for us to realign their priorities," Sheppard growled in Ronon's direction. He grabbed Rodney's arm and waded into their midst with the fourth McKay and the Wraith weapon in tow.
Outmaneuvered, Ronon grumbled and crossed his arms as he watched the first McKay instantly marker a number two on Slippered Rodney before Sheppard could get in between them.
Dex glowered at the multiple McKays and appreciated Sheppard's strategy of bringing certain doom into the equation. The McKays were already starting to look suitably panicked. They hastily scattered in several directions and Sheppard retreated back toward Ronon and the observation deck.
Woolsey, sensing a breakthrough with the outbreak of purpose in the McKays — or maybe it was just that time again — made his way toward the control room across the walkway. He had Carson Beckett with him and Sneakers McKay, who updated them as they all converged toward the balcony for the fifth show.
Sheppard looked more relaxed as he leaned over and rested his forearms on the rail next to Ronon. The colonel had downgraded security since they'd discovered nothing but a blue scientist was ever going to come out of the event horizon. The barricade had been removed from the center staircase and even the soldiers looked more relaxed.
"Well, Rodney, I hear you make quite the Scottish entrance," Beckett's brogue greeted them. "Colonel Sheppard assures me it's a lively show."
"What's Scottish?" Ronon asked.
"Braveheart." Woolsey answered. "A movie with warriors that painted their faces blue."
"Warriors, huh?" Ronon smirked at McKay. "Too bad it wasn't an ancient copier. We coulda had a real army."
"Doubtful!" McKay's scathing look didn't explain his reasoning.
"A dozen Ronons? That is useful," Sheppard brightened.
Ronon grinned. "With extra guns."
John straightened up next to Woolsey and added, "Yeah, or extra shields! If we ran across some of those ancient shields, we could send you through for an even dozen. Imagine the possibilities of using the gate as a copier — you know, if there wasn't that nasty side effect of looping time."
Woolsey looked thoughtful. "You know, if we could make it duplicate on demand…" He trailed off as his eyes got dreamy. "McKay's talking some real money in those packs there — not to mention the transportation costs! If we could harness it, our supply and demand would be over."
In the background, Chuck started the countdown and the command staff hardly noticed as they stared down at McKay's growing pile of packs.
Dr. Beckett pointed down at the pile, caught up in the idea of restocking Atlantis' infirmary. "Four ancient scanners. Tha's worth quite a bit right there!"
"Four life signs detectors." Woolsey didn't miss a beat. "Another couple of million, easily."
Sneakers McKay folded his arms having obviously considered this angle earlier. "Four state of the art computer tablets with specialized software. $840,000." He looked at them challengingly when they stared at him. "What? It's my software!"
"Colonel Sheppard's IDC!" Amelia interrupted.
Sheppard smiled and added, "Four military radios, $12,000," right before his voice echoed through the gate room.
"This is Sheppard. Nobody shoot. We're coming through with a harmless Smurf."
"Four GDOs." Woolsey smiled. "$3,600."
McKay frowned at them and snarled possessively, "Four 9 mm Berettas, $2,400."
As another McKay stomped out of the gate with his muddied boot right on cue, Sheppard added smugly, "Five blue-faced McKays? Priceless."
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TBC
Next chapter…Law of Absolutes