ch5
-Atlantis, Pegasus -
Dr. Kate Heightmeyer smiled serenely as she picked up her now empty meal tray and deposited it in the mess-hall tray rack.
"Ma'am". The two Marines she had been sitting with nodded polite farewells, but there smiles were controlled and formal, their postures guarded. She sighed inwardly when she turned to leave the mess hall, but was careful to keep her own posture serene and her smile natural. She imagined the two marines would visibly relax once she left the mess hall, and so she did. They didn't intend to be unkind. They couldn't help but act like they needed to make a 'sane and mentally balanced' impression on her every freaking time they saw her. They all did it to some extent.
Only when her office door slid shut behind her did she let her smile falter and fail. She'd had no illusions what it would be like when she had agreed to join the Atlantis mission. On earth she had been meticulous about keeping her work life separate from her actual life. She would never consider taking on a friend or family member as a patient. But in joining the Atlantis expedition she knew that the line would no longer be maintainable. She lived at work and worked at home. Patients were all she had here. It was something she had prepared herself to accept, but it was difficult at times.
Kate sat at her desk and opened the file with her afternoon schedule. Her next appointment was Rodney McKay. She wasn't sure she was feeling up to it, but she couldn't risk rescheduling. It would be impossible to predict when she could next get him in here.
Of all the patients she'd ever had, he was the most confounding and the most frustrating. He never wanted her help when the situations most obviously warranted it. It took an order from Beckett and Weir, and an 'If I have to, so do you' lecture from Col. Sheppard to get him to sit down to be assessed following a particularly stressful mission.
Then, from time to time, he would book an appointment and show up on time at her door. He'd fidget nervously, look as though he was about to say something deep and profound… and then… "I miss my cat."
At least, that had been the diversion when he'd booked an appointment before the Wraith attack. It had been sweet at first, for the first thirty minutes or so, but two hours about his damn cat? It was obvious avoidance but any attempt on her part to circumnavigate or even get a word in edgewise was smartly rebuffed. It was like that every time. And it was exasperating.
She wished she knew how to help him, but his personal walls were made of thick reinforced steel, and he seemed set against allowing them to be broken down. So she suggested to him that he should indulge in an activity beyond work that would allow him to express himself or get his mind off things. Everything he did day in and day out was directed towards protecting Atlantis and defeating the Wraith. That couldn't be healthy. But all appearances suggested that he'd ignored her advice.
As surely as no other patient had ever made her feel so exasperated, neither had one made her feel as desperate to help. Those expressive blue eyes didn't hide nearly as much he wanted them to. She thought he tried to divert attention from them with exaggerated hand gestures and scathing remarks. Still, she had seen that the hurt and the fear were always there, spilling out of those eyes in one form or another.
But she could never say it. He had to. That was the nature of her job and there-in lay the frustration.
Today's appointment was of the involuntary sort. A discussion about Dr. McKay's claustrophobia had been prescribed by Dr Beckett.
When McKay finally arrived at her office a quarter of an hour late, it was because Col. Sheppard had frog-marched him there. John had smiled, told her to call him if Rodney made any trouble, and swiftly left her office.
Rodney then paced in a little line while explaining to her that he was extremely busy with extremely important work and needed this appointment to take as little time as possible. He then explained that as she was an intelligent person she was sure she would understand that he couldn't explain his claustrophobia because it was a phobia… an irrational fear, thereby indicating that it has no rationale. The way it felt was succinctly described as bad, and the ways to deal with it were in a neat little paperback manual he picked up while he was in university. He folded his arms and turned to her, his posture and lifted chin daring her to come up with anything he'd left out. His eye-lids narrowed arrogantly, but his eyes could still be heard. And they were saying, 'Please don't hurt me.'
"Rodney, please sit down." Kate motioned to the comfortable looking chair beside where she was already sitting, overlooking an ocean view.
He shifted uncomfortably before unfolding his arms and swiftly sitting.
Kate reached over and lay her hand on one of his, "You are right that a phobia is the bodies irrationally exaggerated fear response to a given stimuli. However, that does not mean that the source of that phobia is irrational or any less significant and relevant." She paused to let that sink in. "Let's try to think about what first caused you to be afraid of small spaces. Can you remember when it first started or any particular event that first triggered it?"
That's when it all went to hell, again. For an instant it looked as though she might have broken through, then the wall went up. He fabricated a story about some bullies locking him in an outhouse. He exclaimed that the stench alone would have sent a seasoned soldier crying for his mother. "And then there was the time the ugliest girl in school pulled me into the broom-closet." His pose was speculative and his voice expressively inflected, but there was utterly no sign of any fear or phobia other than that his deflections might prove ineffective.
Kate listened, as was her job. The appointment ended. He thanked her, saying he felt he could breathe easier and a huge weight had been lifted. And he left, happy to be returning to his routine. Of course they hadn't actually worked through anything. But she could never say that. He had to. That was the nature of her job.
There-in lay the frustration.
888888888888888888
-Cheyenne Mountain, Earth-
"'Already packed' indeed!" General Landry griped inwardly as he watched the additional crates being organized for beaming onto the Daedalus. The final and largest of the crates being sealed sent an unpleasant chill down his spine. It was an iron chamber, smaller on the inside than it was on the outside, totally sound-proof, totally light-proof, with more tubes than were necessary for simply oxygen circulation. His daughter had given him a brief explanation when he'd been foolish enough to casually ask what the hell it was. They didn't know what it was used for, but McKay had been inside it when they found him. Landry recalled the section of McKay's official file that cited claustrophobia and hoped he wouldn't regret allowing the NID investigation to proceed without a fight. They didn't have a reputation for sensitivity.
A nervous cough came from somewhere behind the General, and he closed his eyes to summon what remained of his patience.
"Uh. Sir? … sorry to interrupt but uh," Dr Lee stammered ungracefully.
"Spit it out". Landry sounded more irritated than he intended. The mousy mans nervous mannerisms were impossible to get used to. He was good at his job, but lacked confidence and the constant apologies were hard to take. Did Landry look like he was doing anything that couldn't stand to be interrupted?
"General O'Neil and General Hammond are here to see you sir. And they say to delay the departure of the Daedalus."
8888888888888888888
Lt. Col Cameron Mitchell fidgeted in his seat, his excitement rising higher and higher the longer he had to wait for the meeting to begin. How could the rest of his team be sitting so relaxed looking? I mean, sure, they'd been doing this whole Gate Travel, saving the world repeatedly thing awhile now. But they were about to be sent on some new awesome universe changing adventure and whatever it was, was so important… earth changing… so universally amazing… it was gonna take not one, but THREE multiple starred generals to tell them about it. He loved this job.
Now if only that NID guy and Col. Caldwell would get here they could find out where they were going next. Finally, the bespectacled balding guy from NID came rushing in ahead of the Captain of the Daedalus. Well, technically his rank was Col, not Captain. But for some reason when you run a space ship you get called a captain anyway.
"What is the meaning of this?" The NID guy looked tense, and he was waving a presidential letter.
"Relax Mr. Woolsey. We've just invited you here for some of that information sharing we discussed." General Landry seemed to know the right thing to say to diffuse the hyper NID guy because he relaxed and took a seat next to Caldwell.
General Hammond began the meeting, "It has recently been brought to our attention by the NID that the Trust is attempting to revive an old experiment."
"We thought that sounded kinda interesting so we had our guys dig up a little more." General O'Neil smiled smugly at Mr Woolsey, sending louder than words, 'haha, our intel is better'.
The other two generals simply looked at him a moment before Hammond continued, "Our operatives have learned that the Trust hopes they will develop not only a defensive, but ultimately a counter-offensive weapon to utilize against the Prior's of the Ori."
"Counter Weapon?" the surprise was evident on Mr Woolsey's face, and O'Neil looked all the more smug. Mitchell had his suspicions that O'Neil was commanding the intelligence team.
"That's what I said," Hammond didn't seem keen on repeating himself.
O'Neil shifted his hands into his pockets and shrugged casually, "Apparently these experiments they're looking to revive are to do with Telekinesis, ESP…, Twilight Zone type stuff." He waggled his fingers by his head to illustrate the sheer wackiness.
The three generals looked over those gathered at the table as though expecting a response so Mitchell piped up, "The Trust must be getting pretty desperate."
Dr. Daniel Jackson frowned thoughtfully and tapped his pen a few times, "Actually…that makes sense."
All eyes turn towards Daniel and Mitchell sat up straighter in surprise, "It does?"
"Well yes." Jackson said it like it was obvious, then thankfully explained anyway, "We know that the Ori empower the Priors by somehow artificially charging and maintaining activity in otherwise inactive parts of the Priors brain."
O'Neil lifted both his eye-brows incredulously, "We do?"
"Well…" Daniel amended, "Dr Lam and I strongly suspect it. But we do know that the ancients didn't ascend all at once. There were stages to the ascension process during which various abilities would manifest themselves; as in the case of the clone of Anubis that we found."
Landry seemed to feel the meeting was being taken off track a little, "Yes. That's all well and good. But the Trust is trying to develop these abilities in humans."
"But sir," Sam winced slightly and tried not to sound like she was smarter than almost everyone else there except Daniel, "The Ancients and the Ori were humans. They were just genetically advanced humans. And the Priors were just regular humans until they were changed by the Ori."
"Yes," Daniel agreed, "And there is evidence that the Ancients didn't evolve, entirely, without help either. It's actually very interesting. An energy being was found caged in an Ancient Laboratory in Atlantis and Dr. McKay believed…"
"Daniel." O'Neil gently reminded Jackson that now wasn't the best time.
"Sorry," Daniel clucked his tongue and got back on track, "So, as I was saying, it would make sense that successfully developing such abilities as ESP and Telekinesis could lead to a way to match the powers of a Prior. Except of course that the Priors aren't actually fully in control of what they can do and the moment they take full control and do something that diverts from the will of the Ori they… they well…"
Jackson glanced uncomfortably at Teal'c who finished for him, "They die." That memory was a little raw for everyone.
Daniel pursed his lips, "Yes. Thank you."
"So, what we need to know is do you guys think this is for real? Could the Trust do this?" General O'Neil looked dead serious.
It was Sam who answered this time, "Yes sir, it's possible. Actually, if they're reviving and old experiment to do this then it's likely the original met with some success. Otherwise, why bother?"
Daniel seemed to consider this, "It would help if we had some more information. What do we know about the original experiments?"
General Landry shook his head, "Not a lot. Unfortunately, almost everything was destroyed during a CIA raid to retrieve the sole surviving test subject. And if the CIA bothered to question the subject, they didn't put it in the files."
"Sole surviving!" Daniel leant forward, looking more than a little alarmed.
General Hammond shifted his stance in a way that said it was time to get down to business, "The Pentagon believes that the viability of any possible counter-weapon against the Ori must be explored. SG-1, you are to work closely with Dr. Lam and General O'Neil to help determine the viability of such an experiment here on earth. Dr. Lam is preparing a full report for Dr Beckett as we speak. You will continue to gather further intelligence here on earth and combine it both with your research on ancient knowledge and particularly with any intel which Col Caldwell and Mr Woolsey here are able to acquire. Col Caldwell, you are to stay with Mr Woolsey on Atlantis while you both question the surviving test subject. Have Dr. Novak take the Daedalus into position to receive updates from earth. If anything significant comes up we'll have her move into communications range with Atlantis and let you know. You can send any pertinent information back to earth through Atlantis' Stargate."
A confused look is exchanged between all four members of SG-1.
"Atlantis?" Jackson finally asked.
At that a sympathetic look was cast his way, courtesy of General O'Neil, "You're still not going." That would be owing to the fact that once Jackson got there, giant wild space-monkeys probably wouldn't be able to drag him away, even if the giant wild space-monkeys spoke Ancient and claimed to hold the mysteries of the universe.
"Who is it sir?" Sam seemed to have gotten over the fact that she wasn't going to Atlantis.
"Everything more that you need to know is in the top secret files that are now being handed out to you." Some folders that would probably look plain if it weren't for all the classified stickers wall-papering them were pulled out from under the table and handed out by General O'Neil. He paused when he noticed the other two Generals watching him, "What? Am I not supposed to keep them under the table?"
Landry looked like he was going to say something, but he was cut off by an exclamation by Sam, "Oh my God…"
"What!" Mitchell opened his folder quickly to see what was so epic that it actually got a reaction out of his team-mate, "oh…" He looks back up at Sam.
"Dr McKay?" Jackson glanced at Sam and then at O'Neil, "But wouldn't we know if he could…"
"Make things float? Read minds? Hokey things like that?" O'Neil filled in the blank.
"That's what you're all going to find out, with a few provisions that come directly from the President and which the former President has also expressed his personal support for. They asked that I personally make sure you get the message." Hammond looked at Caldwell and the NID guy as he spoke. "Dr. McKay has the trust and support of the White-House. He served well in the Pentagon. And you will treat him accordingly."
"Of course," Woolsey was quick to agree.
"Of course," Caldwell looked a bit more reluctant. He probably saw it as limiting his ability to succeed at the mission.
"Good," Hammond seemed satisfied, "Any questions?"
"So…" All eyes turned to Col. Cameron Mitchell, who had been pretty quiet thus-far. "ESP, and Telekinesis, like on TV, are real..?
Everyone was quiet a moment, waiting to see if it was a hypothetical question, before Jackson slowly answered "...Yes… I think we've established that."
A kiddish grin stretched across Mitchell's face, "That is so cool. You know we have THE best job, right?"
8888888888888
