Chapter 9: Discoveries
Greg drops his hands from around the Admiral's neck and snaps into military attention with practiced ease that belies his terror. There are only two thoughts running through his mind at the moment: Oh shit, what have I done and Wow, he is much better built that it would seem. In the few seconds that Greg's bare chest was pushed up against the Admiral's back, he could feel a very clearly defined musculature through the material of his hunter green shirt. There was also absolutely no tremor, no trembling and no hint of nervousness when being faced with deadly weaponry and a pair of equally deadly and equally steady men. There is no time for this, however, as the Admiral merely gazes down at them, as in straight down his nose, and then turns to the captain.
"Well, at least that passes my inspection." A small frown appears on the Admiral's face, just a hint of a downward tug on his lips as he removes his mask. John and Greg share a look between them behind Mycroft's back. Neither man needs to say it, though they both feel there is something more than meets the eye going on here.
"You are not here for any inspection, Admiral." Sherlock states knowingly, not taking his piercing eyes from his brother's face.
George and Una are now standing behind the captain, waiting to see if the situation is going to resolve itself or if they will be needed to speed that resolution along. Sherlock just stares at his brother, hands curled into fists against his hips; letting his anger for him showing up right at the beginning of a project that is supposed to be his and scaring his team. Everyone else just slowly gets of out dodge, except for John. He is no stranger to this brand of posturing between the pair of them. He feels like it is his place to keep them from killing one another. As long as they stand with distance between them, things might work out okay: he is going to assure it.
No one speaks for a full minute; this is familiar territory all of them. Though things had improved between the brothers since the Time Gate, there are still rough patches. Like now.
"Mycroft, why exactly are you here?" Sherlock asks in a tightly controlled voice. He gestures behind himself at the room at large, cluttered as it is with old scientific equipment and his crew. "Nothing here holds your interest. That is why you sent me."
"I reconsidered and thought perhaps you might need my help." The Admiral is just as quiet, just as controlled, but he is a man unused to his authority being questioned. If Sherlock were any other subordinate, he would be toeing a very dangerous line. He points the mask in his hand in Sherlock's direction as if it would help make his case.
"Before you get your hackles up, dear brother, I do not need you. My crew does not need you. Why. Are. You. Here?" Sherlock is actually gritting his teeth. John takes note of the muscles standing out against his jaw. He steps a bit closer to his lover; the tension in the captain's jaw eases, though the anger in his eyes just flares as he crosses his arms over his barely-buttoned shirt.
Mycroft is caught. He could lie. He could just walk away and let Sherlock fall into this trap alone. Or he could tell part of the truth without revealing all and then he will be here if things go pear-shaped. He calculates his chances of the captain believing his lie, finds that he will most certainly come out on the downside of that one and decides that even mostly the truth is a better choice.
"I believe that I may have left out some important research concerning this case."
"What do you mean, you believe? Either you did or you did not." Sherlock takes a step towards his brother. Mycroft stands his ground.
Mycroft sighs. He might as well spill it. "There were a few things that I left out of the research I gave you. A few days ago, some being broke into my quarters and removed it. All of it concerned the second half of the research being carried out here seventy five years ago. It was a unique situation and it all revolved around the scientists' ability to walk among the native people."
Sherlock begins to take another step forward and then halts. His eyes narrow and he tilts his head to the side. John can actually feel the pieces click into place when Sherlock finally speaks: "Avatar."
The word drips off of his tongue into the space between the brothers. Mycroft's eyes widen with shock. Once again, he does not move. The unspoken question between them is answered by Sherlock with one of his own. "Have you ever known me to jump into unfamiliar territory without learning everything about it that I may possibly find?"
Mycroft nods. Sherlock continues. "I still find it impossible to see what your presence is going to add to this mission."
Mycroft does not say I want to protect you because he knows how foolish it sounds for an adult to say those words to another adult. Instead, he states factually: "I am interested in the project."
Sherlock regards him shrewdly, though he does not say anything else about it. "Fine. Stay out of the way." Apparently, Sherlock is through with the argument for now. "John?" He turns towards him, his expression open and questioning. John nods and follows him back to their pallet against the wall.
Mycroft heaves a sigh of relief. That went better than expected. He pulls his e-book from his trousers and sends a quick message to his second-in-command, letting him know that the ship should remain in orbit for the time being, or until he sends further orders. He slips his mask back on and retrieves his belongings from the shuttle that has landed beside the one that the crew rode in. He returns to the short foyer and sets up his own pallet near the door.
It is only a few moments before the calming sound of sleeping beings fills the air in the building. The steady hum of the oxygen pumps is a background song to the Admiral's ears, reminding him of his ship and calming his heart rate. Even so, he will not sleep this night. He sits with his back against the door and his e-book in hand, trying to discover any more pertinent information that the captain's crew may need now that they are on Pandora.
Morning comes with a resounding silence from the wilderness that surrounds them. The crew members wake slowly, each being moving about their own space. As usual, the captain is already sitting in a position unknowingly mirroring his brother's from the night before: his back against the wall, e-book in his lap. The only difference being the hand of his lover that is currently resting against his thigh. Sherlock's fingers fly over the screen of the little machine as he enters his thoughts into his log. John stirs just as Sherlock completes his entry and taps the machine into sleep mode.
They all take turns in the tiny lavatory that contains only a sink and a toilet. Every one is thankful that at least the plumbing works, even if the water has a slightly rusty scent to it, it is decent enough to clean up. Without much discussion, once they are cleaned up and have partaken of a breakfast laid out by George, they roll up their pallets and begin examining the variety of equipment.
Greg and John take orders from the captain as he instructs them where to move certain machines. For the time being, he wants to concentrate on getting the network back up and running. George has already claimed a desk and chair and he sits with his eyes glued to an old monitor, the tips of his tentacles tapping furiously on the keyboard. Occasionally, he lets out a little squeak of excitement as something new is uncovered.
Una checks out the wiring and other hardware important to keeping the machines running without a hitch. After several hours, she declares everything in working order except for the strange casket-like machines that are being ignored at this point in order to make the lab operational. The captain has taken up residence next to George and his fingers are flying over two keyboards and the screen of his e-book in turns. Mycroft hangs about, watching and cataloging, occasionally asking questions and actually staying out of the way.
Una, Greg and John are making use of the magnetic cloths that Una has brought along to clean the machines and computers. Within hours, the lab equipment is gleaming and there seems to be a undercurrent of discovery running through the lab. By the time they break for a simple lunch, Dr. Augustine would certainly have recognized her old lab.
Within a day, Sherlock and Una have put their talents together and have not only designed but built a new computer with a massive amount of memory. Sherlock and George download every single file that they can recover from the aged equipment. Eventually, the explorers make it out to the cabin behind the lab building and discover it has four rooms, a sitting room and a much more comfortable kitchen that George happily squeaks over.
By the second day, the crew is working together like a well-polished machine. George, John and Una share kitchen duties. George bounces between helping the captain with the computers and the kitchen at this point. Greg and John explore the perimeter around their base fully and begin to get a feel for the wildlife. Mycroft watches them but does not intervene.
On the third day, John and Sherlock leave the base to find out what kind of edible plant life is around them. They return to the cabin later that night with a bag full of strange-looking, bright yellow fruit that turns out to taste like sweet watermelon. George gives the bag a once over and creates three recipes for the stuff on the spot.
On the fourth day, George breaks into Dr. Augustine's encrypted files and finds a video journal left by one of the men involved in the original project, Jake Sully. Later that day, John finds Sherlock standing alone in the lab as the darkness is claiming the wilderness and the nocturnal creatures are beginning their hunt. One hand rests on one of the casket-like pods and in the other hand is his e-book where he is viewing some of the videos made by Dr. Augustine's crew. When he turns to see John, there is a light in his eyes like nothing John has ever seen. Later, John would call that light want or need; at this point he confuses it for desire and they are soon in their room in the cabin, limbs wrapped around each other, erections straining for release and lips so tightly pressed that each man is breathing the other one's exhalations.
Mycroft begins to notice his brother's growing interest in the Avatars but remains silent. They still have a long way to go before they can even consider that side of the project. Or so he believes.