Chapter 30 - Awakening
Am I dead?
The single question floated in Rodney's mind as he slowly regained consciousness.
I must be dead. There was no way I could have survived. No wait, I'm reasoning. Can a dead man reason? Well, I've never been dead before so I have no actual empirical evidence to prove that a dead man can't reason. So maybe I'm dead.
He took a deep breath and cool, refreshing air flooded into his lungs.
Oh no. Dead people don't breath!
Rodney's heart sped up at the confirmed failure of his last hope, his final plan of escape.
Dead people don't have racing hearts. He observed, as if he needed any further confirmation of the damning prognosis.
Wait! That means the ship didn't blow and Elizabeth and Sheppard and Teyla and Ronon might still be alive. If I lay still, maybe Ba'al won't notice I'm awake yet.
I don't hurt anymore. Am I in a sarcophagus? That would explain why it's so dark. Then again, maybe it's dark because I am dead and it's only the memory of a heart beat and breathing that I'm feeling. Like when someone looses a limb and they can still feel it. That's possible. Right? Wait a minute, why am I asking myself questions in my own head. Oh great. I'm crazy. Crazy and dead.
I wonder if I can haunt Sheppard.
"Dr. McKay," A voice, alien yet somehow familiar, broke through Rodney's thoughts, "Perhaps you should open your eyes."
Oh.
Rodney opened his eyes and looked at the small gathering of Asgard staring at him with big, black, dispassionate, alien eyes. One of them looked somewhat less dispassionate than the others, even concerned, and somehow familiar, "Hermiod?"
"Yes," the Asgard, who honestly looked very much like all the other Asgard, confirmed.
Rodney blinked in confusion as he looked around him at the beam of light that still held him, suspended, "I'm not dead."
"You are not." The alien who had been identified as Hermiod confirmed in an overly patient tone.
"And I'm not on a Goa'uld Mothership." Rodney observed as he struggled to get his bearings.
Hermiod narrowed his eyes. "You are on an Asgard science vessel."
Rodney gaped incredulously, "How?"
"You were rescued." Hermiod stated in a tone of mild annoyance before turning to one of the other Asgard, "Are you certain his mind is not still damaged?"
The other Asgard blinked dispassionately, "We are certain. However, humans are easily confused."
"Hey!" Rodney scowled defensively. "It's hardly my fault that I haven't been fully briefed in the events that led to… this." He gestured helplessly to the light that still held him suspended.
The Asgard seemed to take that as the queue to put him down. The light vanished as soon as he touched the ground. Hermiod spoke to the others in Asgard, and they each vanished from the room, leaving Rodney and Hermiod alone.
"The Daedalus was sabotaged by one of your scientists, under the influence of Goa'uld mind control." Hermiod explained, "This Asgard vessel was the nearest available to assist. From this vessel, Dr. Weir was able to stall Ba'al while the Daedalus underwent repairs. Colonel Sheppard and his team were able to board the Goa'uld vessel to attempt a rescue, but in the end it was a series of explosions on the vessel which knocked down the shields and allowed us to beam you all to safety. The Goa'uld vessel was completely destroyed."
Rodney smirked at the irony. It somehow figured that his plan to destroy himself had been what had saved him in the end. "You contacted the Asgard?"
"I did not," Hermiod shook his head, but then added, "But I would have, had I known a vessel was in the area. General O'Neill contacted Thor, and Asgard High Command, several hours ago to request assistance. He told us of the Goa'uld's intentions, and of your past. SG-1 has been investigating the matter for some time."
"Unbelievable," Rodney groaned, "Does everyone in the universe know now?"
"That would be unlikely," Hermiod tilted his head thoughtfully, "however, to quote an Earth saying, the cat is quite out of the bag."
"The bag's been vaporized," Rodney pouted disconsolately.
"Indeed it has," Hermiod agreed matter of factly.
"Where are we now?" Rodney asked, then quickly amended, "And I know we're on an Asgard ship, I mean where in space."
In answer, one of the walls turned into a view screen, displaying the planet Lantea.
"We are in orbit, over Atlantis." Hermiod answered needlessly.
Rodney turned and looked at the view, conflicted. Atlantis wasn't the perfect hiding place that it once was. He was exposed. His future was uncertain, at best. His presence there had caused so much harm. Atlantis was nearly destroyed. People had died. One of his own scientists had been subjected to mind control. "The Asgard don't do asylum. Do they?"
"We do not." Hermiod lied, then spoke honestly, "I do not think you would like it among us. And your people have need of you."
Rodney clenched his fists and glared down at the city he loved, "You should have just left me to blow up with the ship."
Hermiod stared up at the human, finding this behaviour quite inexplicable, "Why?"
"It's safer for everyone." Rodney spat bitterly, "Atlantis was nearly destroyed, Bobby Freeman and his Mother are dead and who knows who else. And I know too much. What if the Goa'uld or the Wraith or someone else got hold of me again? I could take over Atlantis single-handedly without breaking a sweat. I blew up a solar system! If the enemy, any enemy could get that knowledge out of me and use it to destroy Atlantis, or earth, it's just too great a risk. I'm a liability."
Hermiod stared up at the human for a few moments more before he formed what he felt was a suitable response, "I had thought that you were intelligent for a human being. I am not accustomed to being mistaken."
Rodney's jaw momentarily dropped at the insult to his precious intellect, then he glowered defensively and pointed at the Asgard, "Hey!"
Hermiod calmly continued, "Col Carter, and the rest of SG-1 have been abducted by enemy races and had their minds probed many times. Not only do they not wish they had died on these occasions, they still continue to risk travelling through the gate."
Rodney's mouth snapped shut. Hermiod was right. The combined knowledge of SG-1 had to be more dangerous than his alone. O'Neill probably knew all the weak points in Earths defence. Jackson knew everything that would be needed to infiltrate Earths culture. And what he loved most about Carter was that she was almost as smart as him. In physics she could give him a run for his money. If captured, when captured, they would prove a major liability in the wrong hands. Thus, it begged the question, "Why?"
"Because the benefit to your race is greater than the risk." Hermiod answered, as if realizing this for the first time himself. "Risk cannot be completely avoided, Dr. McKay. However, you can increase the odds of a positive outcome by surrounding yourself with trustworthy allies."
Rodney looked back at the planet, his home, "How do I know that I won't just get them and me killed, or worse?"
"You do not." Hermiod answered bluntly, "Nor do you know if any one of them might cause the same."
Rodney turned to Hermiod and spread his arms incredulously, "Then what's the point?!"
"I do believe, Dr McKay, that there is unlikely to be a single challenge that one of you faces which your combined resources will be unable to overcome." Hermiod blinked calmly back at the emotional human, "Do you not find comfort in companionship with your colleagues, and friends?"
"Sometimes," Rodney admitted reluctantly, "Ok, yes, but…"
"As I have seen they do in you." Hermiod interrupted. "That is the point. You risk trusting in each other, because together you are made stronger and better. Do you not face many dangers together and survive them because you are together?"
Rodney nodded thoughtfully, and an invisible weight seemed to lift from him as he turned back to face the planet, "You're right."
"Of course," Hermiod agreed immodestly, "It is gratifying to find that I have observed your race well enough that I am now giving lessons on being human to a human."
"Hey!" Rodney frowned.
If Hermiod was aware that he'd insulted the human again, he didn't seem to mind. "The people of Atlantis have been extremely worried for you; in particular Colonel Sheppard and those of your team. I do not see the need to tell them that you requested asylum, or regretted your survival. Your fragile human mind was clearly momentarily overwhelmed."
"Fragile?!" Rodney balked and raised a finger to punctuate his next words. "Now see here!" But whatever he was going to say was lost in the beam of light that sent him down to Atlantis.
Another flash of light soon followed. Hermiod released a laboured sigh before acknowledging the presence of the other Asgard, "You object?"
The Captain of the Science Vessel stepped out of the shadows, "Was it wise to allow him to return to his people, knowing what he is?"
"He did not choose his condition." Hermiod reminded.
The other Asgard looked down at the planet, "Does that make him less dangerous?"
"I believe it does." Hermiod assured, then added, "But, the point is moot. Our laws forbid us to intervene in the genetic evolution of a species."
The other Asgard nodded once, "Yes, but we could have let him die."
"A choice which would not have endeared us to our allies," Hermiod reminded with more than a hint of irritation. He had fought and won this point already. "Your disagreements are best addressed in a report to the High Council. I am prepared to defend my decisions."
It was the other Asgard's turn to narrow his eyes, "No doubt, Thor will support your decisions. Your time among the humans has changed you."
"No doubt," Hermiod agreed without the slightest hint of offence. "It is time I returned to the Daedalus."
A flash of light left the Asgard captain standing alone, shaking his head in dismay.
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The door to Elizabeth Weirs office was uncharacteristically closed, and her curtains drawn far enough to ensure her conversation with General Landry remained utterly private. Her focus was entirely on the monitor displaying his secure broadcast from earth. As ever, she was acutely aware of the need for these conversations to be short and to the point. Precious ZPM power was being eaten with each passing minute.
Her hands lay folded on her desk in front of her. She knew the gesture made her look more focussed and in control, though few knew the true purpose was to keep her from fidgeting at times like these. "With the help of the Asgard, Dr. McKay has been recovered. He's still with them now. They say that he is repairable, and he will no longer be in immediate danger."
"What does no longer in immediate danger mean?" the General asked with a hint of irritated concern.
"They said he would be in good health, for a human, but I get the feeling they're not telling us everything," Elizabeth explained, equalling his irritation.
At that the General nodded understandingly. The Asgard were notorious for being cryptic. "Well, congratulations on getting him back. That said; special provisions will need to be made for Dr McKay to receive a full debriefing. At least one former agent's involvement has been confirmed. There is concern that there could be others. But, understandably, the CIA doesn't want any of their classified agents, or more sensitive missions, to be compromised. Fortunately, one of your marines is uniquely qualified as ex-CIA so they have agreed to allow him full access. He's a good man. You can trust him to know where his priorities lie and to keep in confidence classified details of both the Stargate Program and CIA operations."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in irritation, "After all this, they're still not willing to offer full disclosure?"
"Of course not," General Landry confirmed ruefully, "And neither are we, for that matter. I know it's not the ideal situation, diplomatically. But did either of us really, realistically, expect anything more?"
Elizabeth sighed and leaned back in her chair, "I suppose not, but still, aren't we supposed to be on the same side?"
"This is the best I could do." General Landry's tone told her he agreed with her completely, but mending the rift between government agencies was a battle for another day. "Dr McKay will be asked questions about specific operatives he's worked with in the past, the identities of whom must be protected. We'd bring him back here, but we're still rounding up Trust operatives on our end. I don't feel comfortable giving him the all clear to come back to earth yet. This goes high, Elizabeth, and deep. We're pulling a Goa'uld out of the neck of one of the Presidents chief advisors as we speak."
"Oh my god!" Elizabeth breathed in alarm.
Landry pursed his lips grimly, "My sentiments exactly. Thanks to the cooperation of Colonel Carter and Mr Woolsey we expect to have uncovered and eliminated the full extent of the infiltration in the United States within a few months."
"Woolsey?" Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up at that.
"Woolsey." General Landry confirmed.
'Dr Weir.' Elizabeth's hand flew to her earpiece, 'We've just received confirmation that Dr McKay has been beamed down to the infirmary.'
"Thank you!" Elizabeth answered then explained to Landry, "Rodney's in the infirmary."
"Then we'll end our meeting here. I'm transmitting full instructions of how to proceed with the debriefing in an encoded file."
Elizabeth nodded, "Yes General. Thank you," and wasted no time in vacating her office, leaving Landry alone on her monitor.
He leaned forward a bit and glanced around as though he could somehow see around the view screen, "I guess you'll read that later then. Dismissed."
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"Do you know what your problem is?" Mitchell watched his pacing team-mate turn a glare of irritation onto him.
"Here we go again," Daniel muttered quietly to Teal'c. Sam and Mitchell had been at it off and on for hours. He'd given up trying to keep the peace.
The Jaffa warrior was fairly deep in the sleep substituting meditation called Quel'nurim. Daniel wished bitterly that he could ignore the bickering as easily.
The SG-1 team had solved their case. They had unravelled the Goa'uld infiltration all the way to the White House. They'd traced the Trust, and the NID, all the way to their origins and the earliest Trust infiltration within CIA and probably other organisations. They had even figured out the plan to kidnap McKay and sent some Asgard to help with the rescue. All in all, it was a job well done. And, as far as Mitchell was concerned, their job was done. They had done all that they could. So why were they still hanging around the base when they were all obviously tired.
The answer was because when Daniel, Teal'c, and Mitchell had all been ready to head home, they'd noticed that Sam was still brooding in her office. Which brought them to Mitchell's not-so-sensitively put question.
"No, oh wise leader," Sam smiled sarcastically and narrowed her eyes further, "please do explain to me why 'I'm' the one with the problem?!"
Mitchell smiled unflappably, "You're too nice."
"Too nice," Sam looked utterly mystified, "What does that have to do with… anything? And since when is 'niceness' a problem?"
"From everything I've heard, this guy is arrogant, obnoxious, and insulting every chance he gets. He's a jerk. He wanted to give Teal'c up for dead. And he's constantly coming onto you." Mitchell explained patiently.
"What's your point?" Sam snipped.
"My point is why do you care?" Mitchell asked as though it were obvious.
"He's one of us," Sam answered sharply.
"He doesn't seem to think so," Mitchell retorted.
"He's our foremost expert on Wraith technology." Sam retorted again, as though that alone should explain his value.
"You don't care about that stuff, and besides," Mitchell shrugged, "Aren't you always saying he's not nearly as smart as he thinks he is?
If the Goa'uld got away with him they'll probably hide him somewhere in this galaxy. Maybe even on earth." Sam offered another explanation.
"It would take them a few weeks to get here anyway." Mitchell pointed out, then continued shrewdly, "You know the Pentagon thinks that guy is the foremost expert on Gate technology too? What does that make you?"
Sam winced and folded her arms. She couldn't deny that she found that last part irritating as well, "Fine. I admit it. I like competition. It keeps me on my toes. And sometimes it can be fun. Whatever else McKay is, he's decent competition. But if you ever tell him I said that I'll…"
Mitchell raised his hands and backed off, "I wouldn't dream of it."
"You know," Sam continued, "If he's dead you won't be able to give him a piece of your mind."
A nervous knock on the door frame of Sam's office brought there attention to Dr. Lee. "Um. I hope I'm not interrupting."
"No," Sam gave a friendly smile, "but, why are you still here?"
Dr. Lee shrugged, "Oh, a bunch of us just didn't feel right going home until we knew if Dr McKay was ok. I mean, I guess we all know when we sign up for top secret projects that being kidnapped is a risk, especially on the Stargate program. But to actually have it happen is just, well…"
"Yeah," Sam and Mitchell both looked at each other in embarrassment. It seemed that no-one else had felt the need to make up excuses to be concerned for their acerbic colleague.
"Anyway," Dr Lee continued, "General Landry thought you might still be here too. He asked me to let you know that Dr. McKay has been recovered, and the Asgard even fixed him up as good as new. He also said to tell you that you all have tomorrow off."
Teal'c's eyes opened and he smiled, "That is excellent news."
Daniel frowned accusingly at Teal'c, "You were awake the whole time."
Sam let out a breath of relief and smiled, "Thank you."
Mitchell already had his jacket in his hand, "Great. What say we get some well-earned rest."
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The doors to the infirmary slid open to release an all too familiar sound, "Caaarson! Stop it! Gah! That damn penlight is blinding me!"
Elizabeth slowed as she entered the room. Rodney was half cowering, half glowering as he tried to wave away the physician. He appeared entirely normal.
"Now ye see here!" Carson squawked and waved his flash light aggressively. "Excuse me for being a tad worried, but if ye'd just tell me what was done to ye maybe I wouldn't need to run so many tests."
"I already told you about the cloning chamber, the scans, the samples, everything I ate, even those weird alien doodads. If you don't believe me then why don't you just ask the Asgard for a full a report?!" Rodney pointed upwards, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Rodney," Carson started with another huff of irritation., "You know I have, but they won't tell my anything that could reveal any of their precious advanced technology to us primitives. Since when do you have such a blind faith in alien medical science? And I know ye well enough to know you're holding something back."
"Elizabeth!" Rodney breathed her name as a sigh of relief as soon as he caught sight of her watching from the door, "Finally, a voice of reason. Would you please explain to this overeager witchdoctor that he is not even remotely likely to find anything wrong with me that the Asgard wouldn't have…"
His voice trailed off as he suddenly found himself in a tight hug. "Uh, Elizabeth." Rodney squirmed awkwardly. "It's ok. I'm fine. See! Good as new."
She released him and patted his shoulders bracingly, "Yes. So I see."
Rodney turned a smug look on Carson until she added, "Keep up the good work Carson. Let me know when you're ready to release him. I'll be in my office."
"What? But 'Lizbeth!" Rodney protested at her retreating back and looked as though he wished to follow her.
"Don't make me sedate you!" Carson threatened with a wave towards the drawer with the needles.
"I think I've been unconscious enough for a while, don't you!?" Rodney bit back.
The physician gave a wounded pout of defeat as he pocketed his flashlight. "Fine. I suppose ye seem well enough."
Rodney rolled his eyes and began counting off on his fingers the tests Carson had already run, "If by 'well enough' you mean blood pressure, normal, glucose levels, normal, heart rate, normal, pupil dilation, normal. OW!"
Carson smiled triumphantly at the needle now filling a large sample vial with Rodney's blood, "And when this comes back normal I'll almost be satisfied. But yer not leaving until you come clean."
"You snuck up on me!" Rodney pouted accusingly, "How is that even ethical?!"
Carson removed the needle and unceremoniously stuck a wad of cotton onto Rodney's arm for the sulking physicist to hold, "What aren't ye telling me?
"Your bedside manner really sucks." Rodney lamented. "I suppose it's better than Ba'al's at least."
"Oh, well thank you very much," it was Carson's turn to be sarcastic as he turned to seal and label the sample, "I'm going to keep asking as long as it takes."
Rodney sighed and stared down at the cotton wad he held on his arm, "You might want to look for any changes to the ATA gene, particularly enzyme levels."
The shuffling sound, of Carson sealing and labelling the sample bag, stilled, "I was afraid it was something like that." His voice was tight with concern and disappointment. "We discovered, after you'd been taken, that all of my research on ATA and your files had been stolen."
"Ba'al used it to develop his own series of treatments designed to incrementally boost the presence of the ATA enzymes with each treatment." Rodney confirmed.
"What size increments?" Carson asked stiffly, his own research being used to cause harm was his worst nightmare.
"I don't know." Rodney answered honestly. "Carson, it's stupid to blame yourself."
Carson swallowed and forced himself to ask calmly, "How many treatments?"
"Just one," Rodney eagerly answered as though that should make it better. "Carson, seriously, any true scientific advancement has the potential to be used for good or for harm. Every scientist knows it and accepts it and we cannot hold ourselves responsible for how people who take our research now or later use it. I mean, sure predict it where you can, prevent it when you can, direct it while it's in your hands but ultimately you can only do so much. You know that."
"Of course I know that!" Carson snapped angrily, then sighed, "But it helps to be reminded, thank-ye Rodney."
"Happy to share my genius where ever it's needed," Rodney gloated out of habit.
Carson rolled his eyes and slapped a life-sign detector into Rodney's hands, "Try it."
The scanner lit up and began taking various energy readings from the room.
"It feels normal," Rodney informed tentatively.
Carson held the medical scanner up to Rodney's head, "Aye. It looks normal."
He pocketed the scanner with an unsatisfied grunt, "Perhaps it didn't work. Or perhaps it was such a small increment that it won't matter. Just be sure to let me know if you feel anything unusual or if anything unusual happens."
Rodney was already headed towards the door, "I can't wait to see what those lab monkeys who call themselves scientists have been up to."
"Wait Rodney," Carson called after him, hand on his earpiece. He must have been calling Dr. Weir as she'd requested.
"What now?" Rodney groaned.
As if in answer the doors to the infirmary swished open to admit a pair of soldiers, Sheppard and Griffin.
"I'm sorry Rodney," Sheppard huffed awkwardly, everything in his posture screamed irritation, "but, well, you're not to be … reintroduced… to the population of Atlantis until you've been fully debriefed."
Rodney rolled his eyes, "Well fine then, let's assemble the team and meet in the briefing room."
"For lots of reasons, mostly security stuff," Griffin began in a too friendly tone, "I will be handling your debriefing, Dr McKay. Sergeant Griffin."
"Security 'stuff'?" Rodney repeated, nonplussed.
"And, you know, some confidentiality type issues between various interested parties." Griffin furthered his explanation.
Aghast, Rodney turned to Sheppard and pointed accusingly at Griffin, "He said 'confidentiality type issues!?'"
With a nod of his head and one of those military hand signals Sheppard sent Griffin to wait to the side so he could speak privately with Rodney.
"Rodney…" Sheppard began, carefully choosing his words.
The pause was all the space Rodney needed to begin his loudly whispered rant, "You are NOT leaving me with HIM!"
"He's good." Sheppard interrupted quickly.
"He can barely string a sentence together!" Rodney quickly retorted.
"You know I don't like this either and we would have a normal debriefing if we could, but we can't." Sheppard explained apologetically.
Rodney folded his arms stubbornly, "So, why him?"
"He's the only guy on base who has clearance with both the SGC and the CIA," Sheppard looked the stubborn scientist in the eyes, "and I trust him."
Rodney sighed and unfolded his arms.
"He's a good person," Sheppard added with a nod.
Rodney rolled his eyes disbelievingly and added a sarcastic, "Oh really."
Sheppard pursed his lips at the pure cynicism, "I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think it would be alright, regardless of orders."
"Fine," Rodney relented and turned towards Griffin, who was looking irritatingly nonchalant as he waited.
Griffin clapped his hands together when he saw Rodney looking his way and threw an all too friendly smile, "If you would like to rest first, Dr McKay, please feel free. Anything you like can be brought to your quarters."
"Let's just get this over with," Rodney snipped and walked out the door, leaving Griffin to jog to catch up.
The last thing Sheppard heard before the doors closed was Griffin commenting on the weather. He could have sworn he'd warned him that Rodney hated small talk.