Chapter 7: Phoning Home
Elizabeth sat at her desk in her office, sipping at a cup of Athosian tea. She had felt uneasy about sending John and his team to that planet, but couldn't place the reason why. Maybe it was because they had an alarming ability to return wounded, even from the most mundane missions.
Or maybe it was because she couldn't get the comparison with Doranda out of her head.
Either way, she was worried. More than once, she'd seriously considered taking SGA-1 off of active Gate duty for a while and insisting on them taking a break. God only knew they deserved a holiday, but she was all too aware that it wouldn't have done any good. They were just as likely to get injured in Atlantis or on the mainland as they were on an alien planet.
It was possible that they were jinxed. Maybe the Pegasus Galaxy really was out to get them after all: it certainly seemed that way at times, judging from all the mission reports she'd read. They clearly knew how to attract the worst possible kind of attention, intentionally or not.
Or perhaps they were just really, really unlucky.
Her research had left her with more questions than answers. Certain supposedly key entries didn't make sense, and one section in particular looked like a copy and paste job. Parts of the account had contradicted one another, in a way that wasn't noticeable unless you were specifically looking for discrepancies. Worst of all, she still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the name 'Gemæd' was familiar. If only she could put her finger on it…
Elizabeth sighed in frustration. She wished that she'd been able to assess the information before sending Colonel Sheppard's team to investigate, but hindsight really was twenty-twenty. She briefly wondered whether Rodney had noticed the discrepancies, but dismissed that thought quickly. Even when he was in one of his hyperactive moods, the scientist was thorough. It was more likely that he hadn't realised: after all, linguistics wasn't his specialist field.
She hated having to put teams on standby and even now, she'd begun to have that familiar, queasy feeling in her stomach. Her fears were confirmed when an alarm sounded and Chuck, the Canadian technician, shouted, "Unscheduled off-world activation!"
Forgetting her tea, she ran from her office. Reaching the technician, she gave him a worried gaze. "Have we received an IDC yet?" she asked, even though she had a pretty good idea of who it was.
Chuck looked at his laptop. "Affirmative, ma'am. We're reading Teyla's IDC."
Elizabeth nodded. "Lower the shield."
The iris hummed as it was turned off to reveal the rippling, shimmering blue of the event horizon.
The Athosian's voice crackled over the radio. "Atlantis, this is Teyla. Do you copy?"
"Yes, Teyla, we hear you," Weir replied. "You're not due to check in for another hour yet. Is there something wrong?"
"Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay requested that we send for Major Lorne's team."
That sounded ominous. "Understood. Where are they?"
She listened as Teyla and Ronon recounted the events – the doors not opening for them, the failed attempts at entry – and her heart skipped a beat when they got to the part about McKay's encounter with the dais. "Is Rodney injured?"
"Not sure," Ronon grunted. "Sheppard said he was a bit dazed. He doesn't think the little man's got a concussion or anything but he wants the doc to come and take a look at him anyway. Beckett's got the gene, so McKay says he should get in okay."
"I'll have Major Lorne and Carson with you in ten minutes," Weir said, reaching up to brush away a loose strand of hair. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No, Elizabeth," Teyla replied and then, seeming to sense the expedition leader's unease, added, "I am sure Rodney will be fine."
"He's a lot tougher than he looks," Ronon added. "The little man was talking a bit, so it probably looked worse than it actually was."
Elizabeth smiled. Despite appearances, the ex-runner respected the physicist and was very protective of him at times. "That's very true." She paused for a moment. "Did Colonel Sheppard say why the system attacked Rodney?"
"McKay said something about feedback," the Satedan said gruffly. "Didn't really understand it."
"I believe that Dr McKay triggered a… hidden trap when accessing the system," Teyla supplied. "John said that Rodney had experienced a severe shock."
"I'm sorry. Did you say 'trap'?" Weir asked, exchanging a look with Chuck, who raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah. They said it was some kind of…" Ronon's voice trailed off as he tried to remember the expression used.
"Thief deterrent," Teyla supplied, seamlessly. "It appeared to have been designed by the Ancient who built the facility. Rodney said something about madness."
'Oh boy,' thought Elizabeth. "Did Rodney seem coherent?"
"I am not sure. He sounded as though he was in a great deal of pain and John said that he had been feeling dizzy and nauseous."
"And that he was shaking a lot."
Weir swallowed heavily. That didn't sound overly promising. "Okay. I'll have Lorne and Carson with you in a few minutes. See if you can get John and Rodney to meet you outside."
"We will. Thank you, Elizabeth."
The Gate shut down and Weir reached up to her earpiece, clicking it on. "Carson? Major Lorne?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I'm here, Elizabeth."
She let out a sigh. "Looks like you're going off-world after all."
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"I swear to God in Heaven that those two shouldn't be allowed anywhere without a squad of marines," Carson growled as he fiddled with his vest. "In fact, I'm seriously considered finding some kiddie harnesses from somewhere and tying the daft buggers to one of the piers."
"I know how you feel, doc," Lorne sighed, grinning slightly at the mental image of Sheppard and McKay on leashes.
Five minutes had passed since they had received the call from Elizabeth, and both men and their teams were stood in front of the Gate, waiting for the go ahead.
"I don't know about you, son, but I have a bad feeling about this."
Lorne smiled at the Scotsman. It was easy to see why he was so well liked among the expedition members – his laidback, easy going smile, the gentle Scots brogue and general 'everyone's favourite big brother' attitude had an almost immediately calming affect on everyone.
At the moment, however, he looked more like mix between a deer in a truck's headlights and a ball of barely suppressed rage. "I'm sure they're fine," he stated, wishing he could believe it himself. "It's probably nothing. You talked to Zelenka though, right?"
"He's ready and waiting, son."
"Good. My papa always used to say that it was better to be safe than sorry."
Beckett grimaced. He had been told of the symptoms that Rodney was currently experiencing and was worried. There were a number of reasons for the technology in the outpost to react that way, and none of them were very comforting.
The one that instantly sprang to mind made the Scotsman feel guilty – Rodney's artificially imposed ATA gene. What if the system had seen that as some kind of threat? Even with all the talk of booby traps and paranoid verging on insane Ancient scientists, Carson couldn't help but think that if Sheppard had used the dais, maybe he'd have been alright.
Maybe the system thought that McKay was some kind of impostor.
His own experiences with Ancient tech had always made him feel uneasy – the vast amounts of power, quite literally at his fingertips, was both worrying and exhilarating in equal amounts. To have that kind of energy turned on a person deliberately… He didn't even want to think about it.
Instead, he concentrated on his primary diagnosis of the physicist. McKay had suffered from what sounded like a massive (and incredibly angry) backlash from the outpost's mainframe, which would account for the very bad headache. The shaking and other symptoms were worrying him though. It was possible that it was delayed shock, but that didn't really seem to fit with what he'd been told.
He sighed again, knowing that there wasn't much he could do until he saw his friend.
"I hope you're right," he muttered, clipping his thigh holster in place. God, he hated having to wear a gun. It was just wrong. He was supposed to heal people, not shoot them. But, he reasoned, the security protocols were there for a reason and he certainly wasn't going to waste time arguing about it.
"We're ready to go, ma'am," Evan called up to from the Gate room floor.
"Understood, Major. Be careful, please."
"You got it," he replied with a reassuring grin and quick salute.
As Chuck finished dialling the Gate, the event horizon burst forwards before settling into the familiar blue pond.
As one, the two teams stepped forward…
…And, seconds later, were met on the other side by Teyla and Ronon.
"Dr Beckett," the Athosian said, grinning in relief. "I am glad to see you."
"Aye, lass," the Scotsman replied, shaking off the mild disorientation that Gate travel always seemed to induce. "I can say the same about you. Where are they?"
"Still in the outpost," Ronon said.
Carson growled. "Damn stupid fools!"
"We have requested that they leave, but they are… adamant," Teyla said, shaking her head.
"Sounds like the Colonel," Lorne answered, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Beckett saw Teyla grimace and put a reassuring hand on her arm. "What is it, love?"
"I am worried for Rodney," she admitted quietly.
"Speaking of the lad, have you heard from him?"
She nodded. "Yes, and that is why I am concerned. He does not sound… right."
"He's quiet," the Satedan added. "And Sheppard said that he's been sick a couple of times since we talked to Dr Weir."
"Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus!" Beckett cussed. "Which channel are they on?" he demanded.
Everyone, even Ronon, took a step backwards, shocked by the sheer fury that was radiating from the physician. "Two," the ex-runner said meekly.
"Right." Carson reached up and switched his headset to the correct channel. "Colonel Sheppard? This is Dr Beckett. Do you read me?"
"I'm here, doc. It's good to hear your voice."
"Aye, well you might not be saying that once I get my hands on the pair of you!" He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before continuing, "Rodney? Are you there, lad?"
"Yeah."
Beckett visibly paled at the sound of the physicist's voice. It was quiet and pained, so not like Rodney, that it frightened him. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm f-fine."
Automatic reply? Check. Rodney being less than truthful? Check. That could only mean that he was in a bad way.
"You should know that you're really terrible at lying, Rodney, even if it is over the radio and I can nae see your face" he growled. "Now I'll ask again, and this time I expect an honest reply, or I'll have you grounded for a year. How. Are. You. Feeling?"
There was a pause.
"Just answer him, McKay." That was Sheppard.
A heavy sigh filled his earpiece. "Gotta headache."
"Anything else?" From experience, Carson knew that the lack of a quick retort meant that McKay was in a considerable amount of pain.
"Feel weird."
And now he wasn't even using complete sentences.
"What do you mean by 'weird'?"
"You don't know w-what 'weird' means?"
"A year, Rodney," Beckett warned. "And don't be so bloody facetious," he added as an afterthought.
"I… I c-can't stop shaking."
"That's probably shock, lad," Carson said gently, even though he didn't believe it to be the case. "Do you feel cold at all?"
"I… I dunno. M-maybe?" There was another sigh. "It's like I'm… not quite in control of my b-body or something. I can't… It's j-just weird, Carson," Rodney said plaintively.
"Colonel?"
"Yeah, doc?"
"I need you to get him to lie down right now, and cover him with a blanket or a jacket or something. He's not to move until I get there. I'm on my way."
"Understood."
Beckett looked over the other two members of Team Sheppard. "After you."