Parasitism9
John slowed the chair as they entered the Wraith lab. Carson moved ahead of them to unlock the inner lab. Remembering his last time here, when he had been trapped with Moira and the undead Wraith he glanced round. Tense. Felt the comforting weight of his gun at his thigh. He touched Moira's shoulder. "Is it safe?"
"Of course," Carson assured, glancing over his shoulder at them. The panel chimed. The light turning from red to green. The door slid open.
John wheeled Moira inside, stopped abruptly. "Shit."
Moira caught his hand on her shoulder.
The larger containment vessel held a much larger specimen. Nearly the size of a large house cat. Wriggling in a viscous yet tough membrane. A whitish-gray color that appeared wet.
"Good Lord...it's doubled again," Carson mused, his voice quiet. Almost caught in awe as he stared down at the creature.
"Again?" John and Moira said at the same time.
"Wheel me closer," Moira said. She tried to move the chair but John held onto it. "John! Closer, please!"
"No." Instead he stepped up to the containment vessel, to stand next to Carson. He stared in disgust, swallowing past the sudden urge to vomit. "You have no idea whatsoever?"
"No. Not until it emerges. Its gestation is alarmingly rapid. It could be due to the insect DNA, or the production of a natural enzyme." The doctor moved to consult a data screen monitoring the creature.
John glanced at Moira, who was staring at the thing. He followed Carson to the computer. "Enzyme? You mean...hey, didn't Moira say this all started with the enzyme? From the moss? From the Iratus bugs?"
"Yes, John. It's a naturally occurring substance in this galaxy, but not widespread. The Iratus bug absorbed it and produced its own potent version."
"And onto the Wraith, yeah, I got that. But that thing," he gestured towards the case, "is producing it too? Doesn't that prove it's a bug, or at least a sub-Wraith?"
"Possibly, but there are several genetic mutations caused by different bio-chemical reactions."
Moira stood as they talked in low tones. She limped awkwardly to the case. Repulsed. Fascinated. She stared down at the cocoon, peered at the moving mass enveloped in the tissue. She could make out limbs. Possibly a head. She touched the glass with the palm of her hand as her foot began to ache. Suddenly the grub wriggled violently. Crashing towards her on the glass. Rearing up to reveal a protruding antennae. Moira gasped in horror. Stumbled backwards. Fell as the vessel rocked.
"Moira! Damn it!" John flew to her, pulling her back as the vessel rocked. The thing was up against the glass, leaving a slimy trail. "Carson! Get out, now!" John hauled Moira to her feet, set her in the chair. Turned to draw his weapon.
"It can't break the glass, colonel. It is agitated, that's all," Carson reassured. His voice oddly calm, as if nothing unusual was happening.
"Agitated? So am I! Moira!"
Moira was on her feet again, moving towards the case as if inexplicably drawn. "I have to see!"
She fell as her foot gave out. "No! No!" She fought but John hauled her back, forced her onto the chair.
"Don't move!" he ordered, moving in front of her. Aimed his gun at the vessel. "This ends now!"
The case became still. The grub fell down. Lay inert. Silence. John cautiously advanced, gun at the ready. The thing was still inside the cocoon. Moved a little. Carson joined him. "It's developing. Either the cocoon will become larger, or it will finally emerge."
"Don't care." He clicked off the safety. "It's too dangerous. It ends now. Open the case."
"No! John, you can't!" Moira protested, but he whirled, lowering the gun to face her.
"Moira's right, John. We have to see what emerges! This could answer many questions!"
"Don't care," he repeated. "I don't give a shit about your questions, doc! The safety of this city has been compromised!"
"John, please! We need the data! We could find a new weakness to combat the Wraith! The bugs!" Moira urged, trying to stand but he advanced on her, blocking her.
"Stay!" He looked from one to the other. "All right...for now it stays alive, but it leaves this city," he decided. Clearly unhappy. "We're moving it to the Alpha site." He tapped his earpiece. "Reynolds, copy? Get your team to the 'Gate room ASAP. And send Andrews to the Wraith lab."
"Very well, colonel," Carson sighed. "Hand me that tarp. We'll need to cover it for transport, keep it protected. And I'll need a larger containment vessel as well."
John grabbed a tarp from the shelf, helped Carson drape it over and around the case. "Luckily this thing is on wheels," he grumbled, replacing the gun to its holster.
Moira stood, testing her foot. "We'll need more scanners too, and a microscope to test the various DNA strands against its earlier–"
"You're not going," John stated flatly.
"What? Of course I'm going!" she flared.
"I'll need her expertise," Carson agreed.
"What?" John looked from one to the other. "No. She can barely stand, much less walk! What are you going to do, wheel her through the 'Gate and half a klick to the site?" he scoffed.
"Yes."
"I can walk! I need to study this!" She limped. Stumbled.
John deftly caught her. "Yeah, Moira, you're ready for the marathon, I can see. Here!" He set her back onto the chair. "Now sit there!"
"No! Carson can wheel me there then! You can't–"
"I can! You are not going and that is final!"
"John!" She stood. "I have to study it! I have to be near it!"
"Why? Are you feeling maternal towards it?" he snapped, bewildered.
"What? Don't be preposterous!"
"I need her assistance, colonel! I'll wheel her there in a proper chair and make certain nothing befalls her. If you'd leave your personal feelings aside you would see–"
John turned, frowning at Carson's scolding. "Excuse me? This has nothing to do with that! Since when do you ever put the needs of a patient behind the needs of your research? You are being irrational, Carson, as is Moira."
"Me? Excuse me, colonel, but I need Moira's zoological expertise more than you need her for you own sexual escapades. She is a necessary–"
John glowered, tensing. "That thing is obviously affecting you! Or so help me you'd be on the floor right now! Moira, you...damn it! Moira!"
Moira had moved to her feet. Was limping to the covered vessel. She touched it, leaning on it. "I'm going with it, John! No one else except Carson has the necessary knowledge and ow!" Her foot ached, twisting. "John, no! Let me go!"
John pulled her gently away from the vessel. Sat her on the chair. "Stay! You are not going, Moira! What the hell is wrong with you? Obviously somehow that thing is affecting both of you! Maybe another psychic wavelength, I don't know."
"Don't be ridiculous, John! It doesn't even have a fully-formed brain yet, or any of the Wraith's telepathic abilities! I have to go with it! I have to, and none of your military bullying will change my mind so move!" Moira flared, trying to stand again.
"Sit!" He held her in the chair, gentle yet firm pressure on her shoulders. "You are not going and that is final! Now keep that pert little ass on this chair! Or I swear to God I will tie you to it!"
She glared at him. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Want to try me?" He freed her, straightened. "Carson, get that fucking thing to the 'Gate room. I'll be right behind you."
"So will I." Moira was moving to her feet, but froze as John's gaze swung to her.
"I warned you." Moira stared, feeling a weird thrill as he undid his belt. Removed it from his pants. Held it a moment, a hint of a smile on his lips before he moved behind her. He gently pushed her into a seated position. Wrapped the belt over her arms and waist. Fastened it securely but not too tightly. "There. Andrews!"
"Yes, sir?" The lieutenant was staring, wide-eyed.
"John!" Moira struggled, but was held in place. "John! You can't–"
"I just did. Until your head clears you are not budging! Andrews, make certain she doesn't move from that chair. No one, I repeat, no one is to free her from that chair until I return. That is a direct order."
"Yes, sir!"
"John! You can't–"
"It's for your own good, Moira. You can barely walk. You're not thinking clearly. Andrews, wheel her to the infirmary and have the doctor on call give her something for her foot."
"Yes, sir." The young man moved to Moira.
"And obey my orders. I don't care who tries to free her, no one does until I return and do it myself. Carson, let's go! Now!"
"You can hardly leave Moira tied to a chair, John!" the doctor protested.
"I already have. Move! Or I will kill that thing," he threatened. He glanced at Moira, then followed Carson as he pushed the cart out of the lab.
"Colonel Sheppard, you are the one acting irrationally," Carson began to lecture. "We have a very unique scientific opportunity here to study the potential development of a sub-Wraith subspecies and all you want to do is to kill it. Plus you have denied me the knowledge and expertise of the most qualified scientist merely because she is your girlfriend and you want to keep her in your bed."
John sighed. "Firstly, this thing, whatever it is, is most clearly a threat to the city and has to be removed. And will be killed if it becomes an immediate danger to either yourself or my men who will be stationed with you. Secondly, you seem to have forgotten that the thing you are so anxious to protect and to study is nothing more than a disgusting parasite that came out of Moira's foot! And speaking of Moira, since she can hardly walk she will be safer in Atlantis. You two can communicate by radio. And oh..thirdly...her bed."
"Sir? What are your orders?" Jason asked, as he and his team stood waiting. They snapped to attention seeing their commander's glowering mood.
"Sargent, dial the Alpha site. Reynolds, you and your team are going to help Beckett with this...this thing. If you deem it a threat your orders are to kill it."
"Yes, sir!"
"Colonel! It is not a bloody threat!"
"But it will be, sooner or later," John argued. He watched the wormhole engage, the flush of kinetic energy. "Let's head out. Reynolds, take point."
Moira was silent. Fuming as she was wheeled to the infirmary by the very nervous lieutenant. She met the astonished looks of the nurses, the doctors but said nothing.
"What the...lieutenant, would you care to explain why on God's green Earth you have Doctor O'Meara tied to a chair?" questioned a smooth British voice.
Tim Andrews replied, "Colonel Sheppard's orders, Doctor Gregory. You need to give Doctor O'Meara something for her foot."
"Oh, do I now?" Alan asked, hands on his hips. Skepticism on his face.
"Yes, doctor. Colonel Sheppard's orders," the lieutenant dutifully informed.
"Oh, of course. Seeing how he is a medical expert, after all," Alan opined with heavy sarcasm. "Moira, what is going on? Here, I'll get you out of that ridiculous–"
"No, doctor." Tim took a step in front of Moira's chair. "I can't allow you to do that. My direct orders are to keep her as she is until Colonel Sheppard returns."
"What? You've got to be kidding me!" Alan exclaimed. "Right?" He looked from one to the other over his glasses.
Moira sighed. "No," she finally spoke. "He's not. Alan, I do need something for my foot. It's killing me now. Please."
"I'm certainly not going to leave you like that!"
"I have my orders, doctor," Tim reiterated. He wheeled Moira out of reach as the doctor took a step towards them. "I'm sorry, but I have to obey them. I'm sure Colonel Sheppard has his reasons."
"What possible reasons could he have to tie Moira to a chair?" Alan scoffed.
"He, he thinks he's protecting me," Moira acknowledged.
"Protecting you? From what?"
"The, the parasite. It's being transported to the Alpha site for study, and Colonel Sheppard wouldn't let me go with Carson," she complained. Still resentful.
"Oh, well, that does make sense, Moira, seeing as you can hardly walk. But still, to tie you to a chair...with a belt of all things?"
"No! You don't understand! I need to be there with it!" She struggled, but subsided. Sighed. "Damn it! Look, please, give me some pain meds for my foot, okay? Then you can free me!"
"No, Doctor O'Meara. Only Colonel Sheppard can do that," Tim reminded.
"Fine. I'll give him an hour. And I'll give you a shot of codeine, Moira, for the pain. You are in no condition to travel to the Alpha site, but you certainly didn't need to be tied to a chair!"
"Um, she did, doctor. She was out of control," Tim explained, feeling the need to defend his commander's actions, however unusual or strange.
"What? I can't believe she was–"
"Colonel Sheppard says that Doctor O'Meara and Doctor Beckett weren't acting rationally. He blamed the parasite."
"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Alan sniffed, as if insulted by John's appropriation of anything medical. "The parasite isn't even fully formed yet to have anything more than a minor cognitive function." He gave Moira a shot. She flinched at the pain, winced. "That should take care of it for now, Moira." He checked his watch. "An hour," he reminded the lieutenant, who was watching.