DISCLAIMER – Stargate: Atlantis is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not making any profit from the creation of this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Dr. Itzhak Perlman and Dr. Hanna Eriksson are my original characters.
RATING – This story is rated T
ARCHIVE – Archive anywhere you like, but please let me know where it is going. Thanks!
A/N – Well, this story has been dormant for a long time, hasn't it? Recently, I've found my way back to something like "normal" from a multitude of serious real-world problems, and strangely – but happily – I've felt that irrepressible urge to write again. I've been going through some old stuff, and I found this one. It never really seemed complete to me, so I decided to tie up a few loose ends. Here's Chapter 17, with the real final chapter (Chapter 18) soon to follow. Enjoy!
I have no beta. Blame me for any mistakes you find.
All Fun And Games
17. Post-Game Analysis
John was surprised to discover upon leaving the simulation room that it was only early afternoon. They'd been in there for a matter of mere hours, but it had seemed so much longer than that. Maybe it was all the shifting back and forth from reality to virtual reality that had distorted his sense of time, or maybe it had been the associated frustration and stress of wanting to do something but being unable to act until he had come up with a workable solution.
John felt tired. His body ached all over, as if he'd spent the morning sparring with Ronon instead of pacing around the Ancients' war room. He'd reported to the Infirmary without prompting from Carson, and somehow managed to wait patiently while Rodney was seen to. Eventually, Carson made his way around to John, and the colonel endured the doctor's examination without comment.
John couldn't say he was overly encouraged by the way Carson was frowning during his exam, but he decided to chalk the whole thing up to Carson's concern for Rodney and the others more than any serious worry he might have had for John himself. At length, Carson pronounced John fit, though he did recommend that the colonel should go to his quarters and rest for a few hours. Under the circumstances, John didn't put up his usual protest about forced inactivity. He'd be only too glad to hit the sack. It'd probably do him good.
Under strict orders to report any unusual symptoms immediately, John left the Infirmary. He'd briefly considered looking in on Rodney before leaving, but thought better of it. Rodney probably needed rest just as much as John did. John convinced himself that if Rodney were in any serious danger or if anything changed, Carson would let him know. There was no point in disturbing Rodney unnecessarily at this point, and he did need to catch some shuteye of his own.
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The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon when John awakened. He hadn't meant to sleep for so long, but he supposed he'd needed it. For a moment he lay still on his bed, enjoying the warm, comfortable feeling of his blankets and the stillness of his room. His joints and muscles didn't ache now, and he had to admit that his nap had left him surprisingly refreshed despite the dreams.
The visions he'd experienced in his sleep were odd. He'd imagined he was back in the Ancient war room, and that he'd reactivated the Game. In the dream, he'd re-entered the white room at the beginning of the Game, but instead of seeing the simulacrum of General O'Neill there, John had seen a small child. The child had appeared to be six or seven years old, and had straight blond hair and pale blue eyes. Oddly, John hadn't been able to tell if the child was a girl or a boy, but on further reflection now that he was awake, he decided the child must've been a girl. She had delicate features and had been dressed in a crisp white tunic and trousers too clean to have belonged to any seven year old boy.
There had been a window in the white room which looked out onto a park or a playground of some sort, though John hadn't been able to see it properly. The child in his dream had talked to him, and now John tried to recall what the little girl had said. John had a vague memory of the child introducing herself, but ne could not remember what she'd told him her name was. She'd said other things, too, but the only phrases John could recall distinctly were, please help me and don't forget. The child hadn't seemed to be in any immediate danger, but she'd sounded worried when she'd asked John for assistance. The rest of the dream was rapidly fading, but the little girl's plea for help was still anchored firmly in John's mind even though John was now fully awake. He wished he could remember the reason why she needed his help, but that detail was gone with the rest of the dream.
John had never been one to read meaning into his dreams. He'd always figured they were just his brain's way of dealing with all the things that happened to him when he was awake. He didn't find it unusual to have dreamed about the Game, since the experience was so recent. It was only the content of the dream that seemed weird. It had been much more focussed and sequential than John's usual nighttime fare, almost as if he'd been reliving a memory of something that had actually happened or if he'd been inside a holographic recording.
Maybe he'd mention it to Carson. It didn't exactly come under the description of an unusual symptom, but it did seem bizarre enough to make him think twice about keeping it to himself. He lay on his bed for a few more minutes, savouring his unusually relaxed state for a bit longer before he finally made a concrete decision to get up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept during the day, outside the Infirmary. He decided he liked it, and thought maybe he should try to take naps more often.
He took his time getting dressed. That was a bit of a novelty, too. Usually, he ended up double-timing through his routine, either because he was late for something or because there was an imminent crisis demanding his attention. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment and ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. It stuck up at odd angles, but he decided it didn't look too bad. Satisfied, he left his quarters and headed for the Infirmary at a decidedly leisurely pace.
He was about halfway to his destination when he heard footsteps coming up fast behind him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. Elizabeth Weir was hurrying toward him.
"Hey, Elizabeth," he greeted.
"John, I was just going to call you."
John grinned at her. "I guess I saved you the trouble," he said. She kept walking and he fell into step beside her. "What's up?"
"I'm on my way to meet with Carson," Elizabeth said.
"That's a coincidence. I was going to see Carson, too."
"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Yeah," John said. "He wanted me to check in with him when I woke up. I guess he just wanted to make sure I'm still okay, after what happened this morning."
"And are you okay?"
"Well, I feel fine. I guess Carson will be able to tell me for sure, though. So, what're you going to see him about?"
"He's got some news for us about our people," said Elizabeth.
"Good news?"
Elizabeth's expression was enigmatic. "I hope so. He didn't say it was bad news. In fact, he said it was interesting news, which makes me wonder what kind of surprise we're in for, actually."
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Carson was waiting in his office when Elizabeth arrived. He was pleased to see John was with her and that the colonel looked rested and none the worse for the morning's experience. He beckoned them in, and the two of them settled into the chairs he indicated for them. He had a lot to tell them, not the least of which included the findings Dr. Biro and Dr. Wolfchild had made about the Ancient cube.
His first concern was to let them know how Rodney, Radek and Itzhak were getting on, though. He wasn't at all surprised when Elizabeth asked him about them, almost immediately after sitting down.
"They're all going to be fine," Carson assured her. "Rodney isn't suffering any serious effects from being trapped in that device, other than a some wee abrasions and a sore back, but I'm going to keep him till morning, just for observation. Radek's doing well, and if he keeps improving, I'll release him to his quarters in the morning, too."
"That's good to hear," Elizabeth said, visibly relieved. "What about Dr. Perlman?"
"Itzhak is going to be with us a wee bit longer than the others, I'm afraid. He'll be all right, but it's going to take him a bit longer to recover. His symptoms are significantly more marked than Radek's. It seems he had a greater exposure to the chemicals from the cube than Radek did," Carson said. He turned toward John. "Incidentally, Colonel, you were right about the cube. It is a weapon."
"Are you talking about the combination lock device?" Elizabeth asked.
"Aye," Carson said. "I understand Radek found several non-weaponized ones around the city."
"We thought they were all non-weaponized," said Elizabeth. "We didn't realize any of them were dangerous. Why would the Ancients...? Why would anyone want to turn an everyday object into a weapon?"
"Element of surprise," John guessed. "If you think it's something innocent, you're more likely to pick it up, right?"
"The problem with that is, we're more likely to pick it up, too. How are we going to know if we're dealing with a safe object or a weaponized one?"
"We'll just have to be extra careful, I guess," said John. "Carson?"
"Unfortunately," Carson said, "Dr. Biro says there doesn't seem to be any way to tell the weaponized cubes from the non-weaponized ones, short of activating them. We'll just have to avoid touching any new ones we find, until we sort out how to tell the difference. With other potentially weaponized objects, well...it's as you say, John. We'll just have to be careful."
Elizabeth didn't seem entirely satisfied with that, but she didn't persist. Instead, she asked, "What does the cube do? How is it making our people sick?"
"From what we've been able to work out so far," Carson said, "the cube is a chemical weapon. It's got a toxin inside, and when you turn the moveable parts, it releases the toxic gas into the air. Among other things, the toxin elevates the body's levels of adrenaline and norepinephrine to abnormally high levels, and keeps them elevated for an unnaturally long time."
"What does that mean in English?" John asked.
"Adrenaline and norepinephrine are neurotransmitters. Both are active in the 'fight or flight' response," Carson explained. "When a person gets scared, his body helps him get ready either to fight or to run away. It's perfectly natural, and the neurotransmitter levels usually return to normal fairly quickly. With this toxin, though, one set of chemicals causes the victim to hallucinate, and the other set keeps the neurotransmitter levels up, to the point of being dangerous."
"You mean, a person could be frightened to death, literally?" John said.
"I suppose with some species, that could happen," Carson conceded.
"Not to humans, though?" asked Elizabeth.
"I don't expect so, unless the particular human had a weak heart."
"What about the Wraith?" John asked.
"Oh, I doubt you'd frighten the Wraith to death with it. I suppose it could be possible, and I'd certainly never say it was impossible until I've had a chance to study it properly, but I don't think it'd be especially useful as an offensive weapon, regardless of whether or not it's capable of killing anyone."
"It'd depend on the delivery method," John said, evidently warming to the idea. "If you could figure out a way to cover a large area with it, you could incapacitate whole squadrons of soldiers, maybe even the entire population of a Wraith hive ship. Imagine the tactical advantage this sort of thing would've given the Ancients. The toxin wouldn't have had to be lethal at all. With the enemy temporarily out of commission... Well, you get the idea."
"It sounds like dirty fighting to me," Carson said.
"Yeah, but I'm guessing the Ancients were pretty desperate, and who ever said war was fair?"
"Gentlemen, we can discuss the military uses for the toxin later," Elizabeth said. "Let's get back to our people, please."
"Of course," said Carson. "Where did I leave off?"
"You were talking about neurotransmitters," John said. "I have a question about that, actually."
"Go ahead," Carson encouraged him.
"I'm guessing everyone's got these neurotransmitters, right? We were all in the room, so all of us must've been exposed to the stuff from the cube. Why was it only Radek and Itzhak who got sick? You and I are fine, and you said Rodney's okay, right?"
"I was just coming to that bit," Carson said. "You and I are natural carriers of the Ancient gene. Rodney's gotten it as well, from my gene therapy. I had an idea the toxin had been engineered so that the Ancients wouldn't be affected by their own weapon, and now that we've tested it, I was right. You and Rodney and I weren't affected because we're immune."
"Because we have the ATA gene," John said.
"Aye, that's right," Carson said. "The toxin only affects people who haven't got the gene."
"Wait a minute," John said. "Radek is better, you said, but Itzhak isn't. If this toxin, or whatever it is, affects people who don't have the gene, shouldn't Radek still be sick, too? I mean, not that he should be sick, but you know…"
John let the sentence trail off, and Carson got the feeling that he was slightly frustrated as he did so. John was usually better than this at getting his point across. He glanced at Elizabeth, who quirked one corner of her mouth in a fleeting, not-quite smile.
"I think what John's trying to ask," said Elizabeth, "is, if the toxin affects people who don't have the ATA gene, why is Radek recovering so quickly while Dr. Perlman isn't? Neither of them have the gene, so shouldn't they be affected similarly?"
"Now, that's one of the interesting parts," said Carson. "I can't be positive without further tests, of course, but I do have some solid theories. From what we've learned, we know the toxin is airborne. It's possible Itzhak also absorbed some of it directly through his skin when he was handling the cube, though. He may have gotten a larger concentration of it because he was in such close proximity to the source when it was released. Another possibility is that Radek's symptoms are less severe because even though the gene therapy didn't work on him, there are still traces of the retrovirus in his body which might've given him a wee bit of immunity. Itzhak hasn't got that particular advantage."
Carson was aware that Itzhak's refusal to undergo the ATA gene therapy wasn't news to either John or Elizabeth. Itzhak was a brilliant epidemiologist, but he had a checkered past that included some highly classified work in bio-weaponry for both the American and British governments which, Carson knew, was also not a secret to Elizabeth and John. Itzhak was not proud of his role in those particular postings, and the things he'd seen and done in those top-secret labs had left him understandably paranoid about protecting his own body from perceived self-inflicted harm.
He maintained that Carson was playing with something he didn't fully understand, yet stolidly refused to help him understand it better. Carson couldn't blame him, really. He couldn't say he'd behave any differently were he in Itzhak's place, and up to now, the lack of ATA gene hadn't proved dangerous to anyone.
Elizabeth's lips thinned in a pensive frown. "I've spoken to Dr. Perlman more than once about the gene therapy. The conversations have never gone well," she said, and added almost as an aside, "He seems to have issues with authority."
Carson did his best to hide a grimace. It wasn't authority in general that Itzhak had issues with. As far as Carson could tell, he just didn't seem to like Elizabeth all that much. Carson said, "I'll speak to him about it. In light of the situation, perhaps he'll have changed his mind."
"Maybe," said Elizabeth, but she seemed unconvinced.
"So, is it okay if we check in on Radek and Rodney?" John asked, adroitly changing the subject.
Carson was glad of the shift away from the previous topic, even if John's intervention had been conspicuous. He didn't want to get into yet another discussion with Elizabeth about Itzhak and his attitude. Those conversations usually started with Elizabeth complaining about Itzhak's apparent insolence toward her, followed by Carson inevitably defending his friend. Those meetings always ended badly, with Carson promising to address the situation with his wayward colleague. After the first time, he'd never again bothered to take Itzhak to task about his dislike for Elizabeth, though. He couldn't compel the man to like her, after all, and as far as Carson knew, Itzhak had never directly disobeyed her. As long as there was no obvious trouble, Carson wasn't about to stir the pot.
"Of course you can see them, Colonel," Carson told John. "I'm sure they're both awake and bored by now. They might appreciate a visit."
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Carson hadn't told John that he could look in on Itzhak as well as Radek and Rodney, but then again, he hadn't specifically said not to, either. John decided he'd just poke his head into the doctor's room to see how he was getting along, and to say hello.
John wasn't surprised to find Hanna Eriksson there when he arrived. Hanna was seated next to Itzhak's bed, holding his hand. John grinned. Hanna and Itzhak's relationship was an open secret in Atlantis; everyone knew about it, but for the sake of propriety, nobody really talked about it. They were low-key about it themselves, so apparently no one in charge saw it as a problem. For his part, John was happy for them. Everybody needed somebody, after all, and as unlikely a couple as these two were, they seemed to be good for each other.
John tapped lightly on the door frame and quietly said, "Hey."
Hanna turned her head to look in the direction of the door, but she didn't get up or let go of Itzhak's hand. "Hi," she said. "You can come in, if you want."
"Thanks," John said, stepping into the room. "How's he doing?"
"Not good. He's in a lot of pain. We thought he was coming around, earlier, but then his symptoms got worse."
"Carson thinks he'll be fine in a couple of days, though, right?"
"Hmm…" Hanna murmured. John watched her thumb move tenderly and rhythmically across the back of Itzhak's hand. "He says so, and I trust him, but it's just…I don't know. It's hard, seeing the person you l― Well…a person you care about, in pain like this."
Itzhak opened his eyes at that point. He seemed to have some difficulty focussing, but finally his eyes found Hanna. "Hey," he said weakly. "Stop…talking about me like…like I'm not here."
"Sorry…älskling, I'm sorry," Hanna murmured. She said something else to him in what John guessed to be her native Swedish, and then,"The colonel only wanted to know how you are."
Itzhak's gaze roamed until it settled on John. "How do I look?"
John grinned. "I don't think I should answer that question, Doc."
"Yeah." Itzhak shifted his head on the pillow and was wholly unsuccessful in hiding either his wince of pain or his undignified whimper. He squeezed his eyes shut. "God damn…!"
John felt his own body tense in sympathetic reaction. "What―" he began.
"Headache," Hanna explained. "It seems to be getting worse instead of better."
"Aren't you giving him anything for it?"
Hanna shook her head. "Carson says not to, because we don't know how our medications will react with the toxin. I know it's the right choice, medically, but―"
"I know," John said. "You wish there was something you could do."
Hanna nodded, but didn't reply for several moments. "It's so frustrating," she said at last. "I'm a doctor."
Itzhak reached over and covered Hanna's hand, so that it was caught between both of his. "It's okay," he said. "Me, too…and I can't help you feel better, either."
Hanna made a small, pitiful noise, and John had the sudden, panicked thought that she was going to cry. The moment passed, though. She blinked her pale blue eyes several times, and rubbed her free hand across them, but there was no moisture.
John shuffled his feet. "Uh…I guess I should get outta here."
"Colonel, wait," said Itzhak.
"What is it?"
"Sorry. About...earlier today."
"About what happened down there in the Ancient war room, you mean?" John said.
"Yeah."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Doc. What happened down there wasn't your fault."
"You...warned me not to...to touch anything. If...if I'd listened..."
"If you'd listened, somebody else probably would've touched something, and the result would've been just as bad," John said. "Everything worked out. Carson and I are fine, Rodney and Radek are going to be okay, and Carson says you'll be back to normal in no time. Mistakes happen. Don't beat yourself up about it, okay?"
"Could've been a fatal error," Itzhak said.
"Yeah, it could've been, but it wasn't. You can't second-guess yourself like that."
"Guess I won't be going on any missions for a while, huh?"
"Not for a while," John conceded, "but that doesn't mean you're going to be stuck in the lab forever. If we stopped relying on everyone who got into a little trouble, my whole team would be grounded permanently. Hell, I'd probably be confined to my quarters for the rest of my life. Try not to worry, okay?"
"Okay," Itzhak said, after a protracted silence.
"I'll come and see you again tomorrow," John said.
Itzhak didn't reply, but Hanna gave him a grateful little smile. John touched her shoulder briefly, and returned the smile. He said goodbye to her, and left the room as quietly as he'd entered it.
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Rodney had slept for most of the afternoon. When he awakened around dusk, he discovered himself in the Infirmary. The rational part of his brain told him it was logical for him to be in the Infirmary, even though he could not remember arriving. He took stock of himself and came to the conclusion that aside from a few minor aches, he felt fine.
He did recall having dreams, but they'd been a lot less nightmarish than usual, and he felt amazingly well-rested. He tried to remember what the dreams were about, but all his memory would yield were vague images of a small, fair-haired child in a white outfit. Strange, he thought. The child was mini-Radek, and yet it was not. The merest hint of doubt about the child's gender brushed at the back of his mind like a breeze rippling the surface of water. He was almost certain the child in his dream was male, but... He let the thought trail off. Boy or girl, what did it matter? It was only a dream, and who could ever figure out what the brain did when a person was asleep? Rodney resolved not to dwell on it.
He pushed himself into a sitting position in bed, and looked around the room. Resting in another bed a few meters away was Radek Zelenka. The engineer was awake. He lay on his side, facing Rodney's bed. Rodney noticed that Radek's right hand was swaddled in a gauze bandage. He frowned, wondering how his friend had injured his hand.
"You were dreaming," Radek observed.
"Hello to you, too," said Rodney.
Radek offered a sheepish smile. "Hello. You talk in your sleep."
"How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to hear you talk in your sleep," Radek said. He sat up in bed, and awkwardly rearranged his pillows so that he could recline on them. "How do you feel?"
"Okay, I guess. You?"
"Better, except for my hand. It still hurts a little."
"Yeah...um...what happened to it?"
"I burned it, working on some machinery," Radek said. "Is minor. Carson says it will be fine."
"Good," said Rodney. "Uh...did I say anything weird? In my sleep, I mean."
"Don't you remember?"
"Sort of."
"I think you were talking about me," Radek said. "I heard my name a few times, and there was something about drowning and...being afraid of the dark." This last was delivered with a somewhat apologetic tone.
Rodney frowned in concentration, trying to call up the sounds and images from his dream. He did recollect being in the dark with the entity he'd come to know as mini-Radek, yet it wasn't Rodney himself who'd been afraid of the dark. He said, "I think I was dreaming about the Game. It wasn't you that I was talking about. It was the...the entity in the device. I called him Radek because he sort of looked like you."
"In your dream?"
"No. Well, yes, in my dream, but in the Game, too."
Radek peered at Rodney with a quizzical expression. "The Game is that machine you found, yes? There's an entity in it? A life form?"
"I think so."
"How is that possible?"
"I don't know," Rodney said. "I know he's there, though. I talked to him, interacted with him when I was in the Game."
"This entity in the machine… It looks like me?" Radek queried.
"Yes, he looks like you," Rodney said. "Okay, maybe not exactly like you, but he spoke with your accent and he had your hair. He was wearing your glasses."
" You assign it a gender?"
Rodney sighed. "Well, he looked like a little boy, so yes, naturally I assigned a gender. Can we stay on point, please?"
" Of course," Radek said. "What is it?"
" What is what? The entity?"
" The point," said Radek, in the patient tone that always made Rodney want to grit his teeth. "You wanted to stay on point, so what is it?"
Rodney sighed. "The point, Radek, is that I think he's sentient. Or was."
"Was?"
"When the machine was deactivated, he just disappeared. Before that, he was taking about deletion as if it was death to him. He understood what death means, and he was afraid of it. He told me that he wanted to exist."
"Perhaps he does. Exist, I mean."
"How?"
"If he is computer program, turning off the computer would not necessarily delete him. Software is still on your tablet when you deactivate it, after all."
"True," Rodney conceded. He fell silent, thinking. What Radek said really did make sense. A sentient program was still a program, and despite its complexity the Game was still essentially a computer. Perhaps it was possible that the entity was still alive.
With a rush of mingled anticpation and dread that made his stomach feel like it was in freefall, Rodney instantly knew there was only one way to find out if the entity were still alive or not. The difficulty, he concluded, was going to be in working out how he was to accomplish this suddenly-formed plan.
He must have been quiet for a lot longer than he'd realized because he could sense Radek staring at him. He focussed his attention on the engineer again. Radek wore an expression of mixed curiosity and suspicion. It made an interesting combination.
"Rodney, what are you thinking?" Radek asked.
Rodney hesitated for a moment, but then decided it would be pointless to conceal his idea from Radek. In a lowered voice he said, "I need to get into that room again."
"No," Radek said. He held up his gauze-swathed hand, reminding Rodney of the burns beneath the bandages. "That room is dangerous. You can't go there again."
"I have to. I need to see if the entity is still there."
"What if something happens to you? Who will help you?"
"I thought maybe you would help."
"Oh no. No. I am not going in there again."
"You know, your computer and your tools are still in there."
"I know."
"You want to get your stuff back, don't you?"
"Someone will get my things," Radek said. "Perhaps someone already has."
" You'd trust someone else to handle sensitive equipm?"
"Rodney," Radek said. "Please don't attempt to manipulate me. If you think I don't know that is what you're trying to do, then you insult my intelligence."
"Okay, okay. No manipulating," Rodney said. "Aren't you the least bit curious,about the entity, though?"
"Yes, I am curious, but I won't risk my safety just to satisfy my curiosity."
"Oh, come on!" Rodney said. "That's the worst reasoning I've ever heard. You risked your safety to satisfy your curiosity when you came to Atlantis. We all did. If you can make a big leap like that, what's a small step like this?"
"Small steps are more dangerous. Most fatal accidents happen close to home. Is statistically proven fact."
"Right, so your chances of getting hit by a bus in Prague were statistically greater than your chances of getting in trouble here. Come on, Radek. Who else can I trust to help me with this?"
"Ask Colonel Sheppard."
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because he'll tell Elizabeth."
"What makes you think I will not tell her myself?"
"I'm not Sheppard's boss, am I?"
Radek looked exasperated. "When I said not to manipulate me, this also included threats and blackmail."
"You won't tell Elizabeth, though, will you?"
"Maybe," Radek said. "You have to make it worthwhile for me to say nothing."
"If I'm not allowed to manipulate you, then you're not allowed to manipulate me, either," Rodney said. "You have to be fair about it."
"Life is not fair."
"Radek..."
Radek quirked the corners of his mouth in a sardonic smile. "All right," he said. "I won't tell, but if we go to that room and things start getting...strange...then we are leaving straight away."
"Don't worry. Do you seriously think I want to get my head stuck in the machinery a second time?"
" Rodney ex machina?" Radek quipped. "No, I think not."
"Oh, very funny, Radek. You wouldn't be laughing if it'd been your head that got stuck."
"At least you didn't make complete fool of yourself in front of everyone," Radek said.
"Do you remember much about what happened? I mean, did you--"
Radek forestalled the rest of Rodney's question with an upraised hand. He said, "Stop talking. I hear someone."
" I don't--"
"We will discuss this later," Radek said quietly, and then louder, "I cnanot believe you would completely discretit my theory without studying it for yourself."
Rodney caught on quickly, and shot back, "Yeah well, I don't have to study it to see how flawed it is. It's preposterous!"
"Your position is unfounded. All the current research clearly supports my hypothesis." Radek said. He gave Rodney a quick grin and an approving nod just moments before a figure appeared in the doorway.
"Well,"said John as he strode into the room. "You guys look like you're doing all right."
"Under the circumstances, I guess you could say that," said Rodney.
"We're fine, Colonel," Radek said. "Carson says we can both leave the Infirmary in the morning."
"So I heard," John said. "He grinned, "Seriously, though, if you keep arguing like you were doing when I came in, you might be out of here sooner than you think."
"We were not arguing," said Radek."
"It was a healthy debate," Rodney added.
"Oh yeah? About what?" asked John.
Rodney's pulse jumped into a faster rhythm in response to hearing that question. He glanced sideways at Radek.
To his credit, the engineer looked as cool as the proverbial cucumber. In a gently patronizing tone, he told the colonel. "You would not understand. It is complex."
"Try me," John said.
"We were talking about Heisenberg's uncertainty principle," Radek said.
For a moment, John stared at Radek. Finally he said, "You're making that up."
"No. Is real theory of quantum physics."
"Look it up, if you don't believe him," Rodney said.
"Right," said John. "If you don't want to tell me what you were really talking about, that's fine. I just wanted to come in and say hello, and see if you guys were okay."
"We're good, "Rodney said.
"Have you seen Itzhak?" Radek asked, changing the subject on him as deftly as John himself had done to Carson earlier. "How is he?"
"Not so good," John said. "Let's just say he's not getting out of here in the morning. Turns out that Rubik's cube thing had some kind of poison in it, and the kicker is that it only affects people who don't have the ATA gene."
"I don't have the ATA gene," Radek said.
"Which explains why you were affected, but Rodney and I weren't," said John.
"I'm not ill now. Shouldn't Itzhak be better, too?"
"Apparently, he got a bigger dose than you."
"Oh," Radek said. "He will get better, though?"
"Carson says so," John said. "It'll just take a bit longer for him, that's all."
"Have you actually seen him?" Rodney asked.
"Yeah, but he wasn't really up to having visitors."
Radek smiled cryptically. "I expect Hanna was there visiting him."
"Doctors don't count as visitors," Rodney scoffed. "Although, I probably wouldn't complain if Hanna came around to...you know...visit me."
"I think you might still be dreaming," Radek said.
John added, "I'm pretty sure she's only ever going to visit you in a strictly professional way, McKay."
Rodney sighed. "Hey, is daydreaming illegal, now? I need something to keep my mind off my current situation. I'm a sick man, you know."
John laughed out loud at that. "I don't think I can even dignify that with a reply," he said.
"You--" Rodney began.
"Okay, okay," John held up his hands in an appeasing gesture. "You're allowed to daydream. Just try to keep it to yourself, all right?"
"Hmph," was Rodney's response. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, Sheppard?"
"What Rodney means to say," Radek interjected, "is that we are both very tired. Aren't we, Rodney?"
"Exhausted," Rodney said, giving John a baleful look. "Totally."
"That's funny. You seemed alert enough when I came in," John said.
"All this...what do you say? All this banter is tiring us," said Radek.
"You guys wouldn't be trying to get rid of me so you can go back to your little scheme, would you?"
"Of course not," Radek said.
"Yeah, and who says there's a scheme, anyway? There's no scheme," said Rodney, "and even if there was, we wouldn't be involved in it. Would we, Radek? We're just a couple of patients, trying to recover."
"Right," John said.
They exchanged farewells, and John said he'd see them after breakfast tomorrow morning. After giving them a rather tongue-in-cheek lecture about not staying up past lights-out, John turned and left the room. Both Rodney and Radek were silent for several minutes after the colonel departed. When Rodney felt it was safe to speak again, he turned toward his friend.
"Do you think he bought it?" Rodney asked.
"No," Radek said. "Would you have believed us? It doesn't matter, though. He doesn't know what we were talking about. If we don't discuss it with anyone else, your secret will be safe."