Part 2 of Proof
Walking out onto the back porch, Madison stood behind her uncle. He was wearing a pull over today, one that stretched a little too tight and read USAF. His glasses were sitting on the table next to a small blue notebook and a pen.
“Hey,” he suddenly said.
“I'm sorry, did I wake you?” she asked.
“No.”
“I thought you were napping.”
“It's too nice out to nap. I was just lounging in the sunlight.”
“Without sunscreen?”
He pointed to a bottle resting on the porch. “SPF 100.”
“I was going to go to the store. There anything you need?”
“No.”
“What do you want for dinner?”
“Whatever you want to make. Except pasta. Terrible, boring, easy stuff.”
“Didn't you used to like pasta?”
“Yes, but I'm bored with it. Where's a good MRE when you want it?” he muttered to himself.
“What do you want, then?”
“I don't know. What are you in the mood for?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Hmmm.”
“Uncle Rodney, what do you want?”
He turned to look at her, eyes lighting up. “I know! I'll shop.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You should stay here and rest.”
“I'd like to take a walk, anyway.”
“Alright.” She paused then sat down beside her uncle. “Umm, I'm going to school.”
“What?”
“I'm going to start at the University of Colorado in a month.”
“Colorado?”
“They were great about my credits. They're taking me as a junior. I...I wasn't sure when to bring it up.”
“Colorado? What's wrong with Boulder?”
“You teach there. I just think it'd be awkward.”
“That's a long drive, though.”
“Not really,” she shrugged. “Forty-five minutes or so.”
“But twice a day...”
“I was,” she took a deep breath, smoothing the line of her sweater, “I was going to move there. Live on campus.”
“You want to live in Denver?”
“Yeah. I can still come home whenever. Weekends, whenever you need me. It's just...you've been well, I mean, really well for almost eight months now.”
“You're in. For sure?”
“Yes.”
“How are you paying for it?”
“Like I said, they're being real great. They're giving me a free ride.”
“Yes, well, that covers tuition and books. What about clothes and dates and football games? You could use some new clothes, and you should always pay your way for the first few dates. You do plan on having a social life, yes?”
“I don't know. What's wrong with my clothes?” She looked down at herself. She thought they were just fine.
“It's just...well, I don't want you dressing like me. I've never had good fashion sense. Neither did your parents, actually. Just, if you're going to want to date, you need to look like everyone else. Go shopping with Kristine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“It's just, this is a big step. A whole different city.”
“Not like I haven't moved before. To another country.”
“Yes, yes, well. You were younger then. It gets harder as you get older.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, this will be your first time in school. You'll be behind.”
“I have a lot of faith in what you've taught me.”
“Well, yes, there's no one better than me, but it's the other things. I certainly don't know any English literature. I've read a few Russian novels, of course, but that's different. By the way, War and Peace? Don't waste your time. There's hardly any war or peace. It's one big romance novel.” He made a face.
“I'll be fine.”
“But--”
“Uncle Rodney. If you end up needing me again or--”
“That's not what...”
“It's ok. I can take the semester off, if need be.”
“I don't need you!” he yelled. Then, taking a breath, he spoke quieter. “It's just, I wish you'd told me sooner. A month?”
“I had to be sure you were ok.”
“What do you mean?”
Madison pinned her uncle with a look. “You know what I mean. I had to be sure you were feeling better, consistently.”
“Oh, so I'm supposed to take this moving as a vote of confidence, eh?” Rodney leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, looking stubborn as could be.
Madison sighed. “Take it however you want. I always believed you would get better.”
“Well, gee, thanks. I feel so much better now.”
“I had to! I mean, you were reading the stars like an astrologist! Talking about aliens and decoding the stars!”
“Why do you have to remind me, Madison? I've stopped. I am better now. I--”
He cut off as a knock reverberated through the house. Madison went inside the house, sneaking a mean glare at her uncle.
She was greeted at the door by a tall guy with dark hair that flopped over his brow. He was wearing a Boulder t-shirt and nice fitting jeans. He had a thick manila envelope in his hand.
“Hi. Is, umm, is Dr. McKay here?”
“Back here,” she said, gesturing with her head for him to follow her.
“Mr. Sheppard,” Rodney greeted them as they stepped out onto the porch.
“Hi. Uh, I hope I didn't come at a bad time or anything.”
Uncle Rodney smiled. “Of course it's a terrible time. You interrupted an argument.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I'll just...”
“No, no, quite all right. We were trying to decide what to eat for dinner, tonight. Any ideas?”
“Well, there's a great pasta place I know over on--”
“No!” cut in her uncle, making a slashing motion. “Definitely not. Thanks for the idea, though.”
“Umm, ok. Look, I can come back another time.”
“No, no, you drove all this way. Madison, let's just discuss this later, ok?”
“Fine,” she snapped, making to leave.
“Wait, wait. I'm terrible. Madison, this is one of my grad students, Joseph Sheppard. Joe, this is my niece, Madison. Have a drink with us, Joe.”
Madison obligingly stood and grabbed the bottle of scotch from beneath the outdoor cabinet, pouring all three of them a glass. She sat and nodded at Joe to do the same. He smiled, but shook his head no, and continued to stand. Madison couldn't help but notice the military-like posture.
Rodney continued on blithely. “Joe has some very promising work. His thesis is on prime numbers, mainly.”
“Have you been at Boulder for long?” she asked.
“A few years. I did my undergrad there, too.”
“Yes, yes. I've known Joe quite a few years now. And now he's in what I call our 'Infinite' program. As he approaches completion of his dissertation, time approaches infinity. Isn't that right?”
“Yes,” Joe answered sheepishly. “But...”
He slid the envelope across the table towards her uncle.
“Oh, really?” The older man asked, fumbling for his glasses with excitement. “Must have been a heck of a summer.”
“Well, I found flight school to be quite the disciplinary teaching tool. It was a nice break from studying my flight tests.”
“You fly?” Madison asked, intrigued.
“Just got my license,” he said proudly, nodding his head. “I'm afraid I'll never be the master my father was, though.”
Madison thought she heard her uncle mutter, “No one was,” but dismissed it.
“Fun,” she said.
“It's just a draft,” Joe continued to her uncle. “But I figured, I should get it in before I began doubting myself. After all, it seemed done...” Joe rambled a bit but stopped himself, bringing the glass to his lips. He had very full lips, Madison noticed.
“Which just means you still have a long way to go. But don't worry. We'll work through it. You'll be teaching much more annoying and younger versions of yourself in hardly any time at all.”
“Thanks,” Joe flushed, ducking his head. That movement seemed very familiar to Madison for some reason.
“You know, Madison is starting with the physics department at Colorado this semester.”
“Really? Impressive. With who?”
“Oh, just my undergrad.” she said, both embarrassed and pleased.
“Lots of great teachers there. None as good as me, of course, but a parental figure can't get everything he wants, can he?” Rodney sighed dramatically.
She rolled her eyes.
Joe chimed in. “You know, first year of school can be great. All the new people you meet, getting out of the house...Or, I mean...” Joe looked at her uncle.
“Are you kidding me?” Rodney snorted. “I'm glad to be rid of her!”
“You are?” Madison questioned, incredulously.
“Yes. Ever think I might want to house to myself? You can be so annoying, constantly pestering me to watch my diet.” He leaned towards Joe conspiratorially. “Now, I'll be able to eat whenever I want. And I won't have to worry she'll poison me with lemon, either, just to put me out of my misery.”
“Uncle Rodney!” she said, aghast. As if she'd ever do that to him. Hell, she hadn't eaten an orange since she was twelve and moved in with him.
The two men just laughed.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I'll just have to come back here on weekends and cook you big pots of pasta.”
“And for that, I'll have to visit you and torture you in front of your fellow nincompoops-oh, I mean students.”
She'd never admit it, but she wasn't only glad Uncle Rodney was better for his own sake. She'd missed their banter and these past few months had been filled with it more often, again.
“I'll like being able to work, again,” Rodney continued.
“Oh, what are you working on?” Joe asked.
“Nothing. Yet. But I have some grand plans in mind. Great answers to several physics problems no one's been able to solve. Not even Zelenka.” Her uncle looked pleased with himself. “Anyway. I'll have a look at this. Come into my office next week. Don't worry about it till then. Do something fun. Go on a date.”
If she hadn't known her uncle better, she would think that sly smirk had been a hint to Joe. She blushed, looking out from under her eyelashes at him, only to discover Joe was staring right back.
“A week then. So...the 9th. Alright.”
“The...” her uncle trailed off before turning to her. “Oh. I used to be so good at numbers. I'm sorry. Happy birthday.”
She smiled. “It's ok.”
“No, it's not. Let's go out. What do you want?”
“It's fine, Uncle Rodney, really...”
“No! What do you want? My treat.”
She stared at her uncle for a minute, hardly aware of Joe's presence anymore. “Steak,” she decided. “And cheap wine. And dessert.”
“Of course. Do we never not get dessert?”
She laughed; there was a reason that sweatshirt was a bit too tight. When she heard a quiet throat clearing, she remembered Joe.
“Oh, I'm sorry. We're being very rude. Would you like to join us?”
“No, no, I shouldn't.”
“Please,” she said.
“It'll be fun,” her uncle echoed.
Joe ran a hand through his hair, and fiddled with the dog tags around his neck. “I wish I could. But I have plans.” he seemed truly upset by that. “But happy birthday...Madison.”
“Thanks,” she smiled. “I'll walk you to the door, then. And Uncle Rodney, I'm going to change first, ok?”
“Ok.”
After walking Joe out, she looked out the back door window and saw her uncle had picked up the pen and had begun
writing in the notebook.
~~~
October 22nd, 2017
People always seem to talk about life-changing events. How something awful happening made them a better person. Scrooge and his three ghosts. Cancer patients who go into remission and create an entirely different life for themselves where they feed the poor or something.
I died.
I prepared myself, made amends. I told myself if I figured out a way, if Carson figured out a way...I'd be a better person, too. I'd do things different.
Fact is, Scrooge is just a fairy tale and I'd be inclined to think said cancer patients are as well.
Because I lived. But nothing changed.
Being Ascended for a few moments gives you the knowledge of the universe, but not a change of heart. I couldn't force myself to be a better person. And in the end, I couldn't overcome one stupid US military rule. I ridiculously cared too much about his career to go for what I wanted. “Career” had been my life, everything I wanted. I never thought it might not matter so much to one quiet and stubborn man.
In the end all I accomplished by dying was a few equations I'll never understand again.
Now I know how Daniel felt.
~~~
“Wait a minute,” Joe said, gesturing with the notebook. “You wrote this?”
“Yes,” Madison replied.
“When?” Kristine asked, looking perplexed.
“I started right after I dropped out of school. I finished it a few months ago.”
“Did your uncle know?”
She shook her head. “I never told him. It would have hurt him too much to see me doing work he couldn't.”
“But it's in one of your uncle's notebooks,” Kristine said, grabbing it from Joe and examining it. “His handwriting, too.”
“It's not like he didn't have a million of them floating around. I just used one. And you know our handwriting's always been similar.”
“I don't know that,” Joe spoke up quietly.
“Hold on. Where did you find this, now?” Kristine said with her lawyer tone. “Exactly.”
“Upstairs in Rodney's desk drawer, bottom right. Madison gave me the key.”
“So,” her friend turned towards her. “You had the key, kept this there for months and didn't let anyone know?”
“I'm telling you both now,” Madison said, confused. “After I quit school, I was depressed. But I decided I didn't need them, I'd been trained by the best, and just sat down one night. When I went out shopping, I'd pick up books. I'd look online late at night for journal articles, equations to help make sense of the math...”
“I'm just finding it hard to believe,” Kristine said, crossing her arms.
“Why? Because I didn't need to get a degree to come up with it? Uncle Rodney built a nuclear bomb in sixth grade. He didn't need to have a nuclear physics degree to do it-he was a nuclear physicist.”
“Joe, you've been working with her uncle's handwriting for days now. Is this his or hers?”
He shifted from foot to foot, pulling the notebook back to him, staring hard. “I don't know. I really don't.”
“Oh, my, God. Neither of you believe me. How can you not believe me?”
“It just seems to come at an odd moment, Madison. An...opportune time.” Kristine's voice was placating.
“Oh, no,” Madison said, backing away from both of them as they just stared at her, one look confused, the other sympathetic. “Don't patronize me. You don't believe me. You think I would wait until he died and then say this was mine? I loved my uncle! I wish to hell he had done this, but he was too sick; I did it. I can't believe you. I can't believe I trusted either of you!”
She tried to storm out, but Joe grabbed her arm with a pleading expression. “If you could just tell us what it is...”
“Like you would even understand!” she yelled. “You're just a fly boy who happens to do math well! And you-you're a lawyer! What would you know about theoretical astrophysics?””
“Ok, ok.” Kristine held out a hand. “Why don't you at least try to explain it to Joe? He'll know more than me. He studied with your uncle. But,” she said, pulling the book back to herself as Madison tried to reach for it, “you have to do it without the book.”
“Are you kidding me? The damn thing is seventy pages long! It's not a manual on how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for cryin' out loud.”
Kristine looked her up and down, slipping a black strand of hair behind an ear before letting Madison take the book.
“That still won't prove she wrote it,” Joe said, looking very uncomfortable.
“Why the hell not?” Madison asked.
“Because your uncle could have explained it all to you. I'm not saying he did,” he spoke faster, seeing Madison's hands clench, “just that it won't prove anything. Now, if I could get a team of experts to look over it--”
“Oh. Oh, I see what this is!” Madison knew she was getting overly worked up but this was hers, dammit! “I give it to you, you and your friends go over it and publish it as your own. I don't think so, buddy.”
“I think that's a great idea,” Kristine chimed in. “You're unsure about the authorship so it stays on the down low while we sort it out.”
“No!” yelled Madison.
“Madison, you've got to see this from a legal standpoint, too. You're the one accusing Joe of wanting to steal your ideas or plagiarize, you have to understand, someone has to look out for your uncle, too. Or you, if you did write this. You don't want major publisher's accusing you of stealing his work anymore than you want us saying it.”
“You can't have it!” Madison screamed at Joe, keeping the notebook close to her chest, protectively.
“I don't want to take it, Christ!” Joe yelled right back. He tried to touch her arm to gentle her, but she yanked away. “I just want to know the truth.”
“You should believe me,” she whispered. “It wasn't...it wasn't until last night I thought I could share this with anyone. That anyone would care. I trusted you. I thought-thought you'd understand.”
“It's your uncle's handwriting!” he roared, voice suddenly an octave deeper and his face went red. “Or, it looks a hell of a lot like it. I just...I need to see, Madison.”
“Test my handwriting if you need to.”
“But he could have dictated it all. Look, I'm a mathematician.”
“So?” Madison questioned bitterly.
“I know how hard this would be to create. It was something your uncle was looking to try to solve his whole life. Hell, I sat in his office for hours once debating sub space and energy manipulation. How a bridge wouldn't work because it just forced exotic particles to other universes. He didn't think it could be done. And for you to do it...you'd have to be your uncle. At his best.”
“You don't think I'm smart enough,” she said flatly.
“Just that you haven't had the training. Or practical experience. He did. He worked on deep space telemetry. Who knows what the hell else he did? It's just if he couldn't...You taking a few classes at Colorado isn't good enough.”
“My education was living with the man for thirteen years. It was living with my mother for twelve before that. He wasn't the only genius in the family, you know. My mother's math was better than his.”
“It's too advanced! I don't even understand it.”
“Too advanced for you.” She seethed. “That's your problem, isn't it? You're fucking jealous because you and your crappy band mates couldn't produce anything like this after working for years on Ph.D's, after grants spent on worthless research. You're jealous because you're not smart enough!!”
Joe looked at her, mouth hanging open for a moment before it snapped shut and he grabbed his bag and left, front door slamming after him.
“Madison,” Kristine wrapped one slender hand around her wrist. “Come on, lets go upstairs.”
Madison yanked her arm back and began to rip at the pages, trying to get rid of them, tears burning in her eyes. Kristine grabbed at the notebook and they struggled for a moment before Madison gave up and threw it on the floor, running out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.
None of this had turned out the way it was supposed to.
~~~
January 15th, 2013
The world both ended-and didn't. It didn't end in the cataclysmic proportions Daniel says all those ancient cultures predicted. But then, what did they know? They were still figuring out the seasons with giant stones when the Goa'uld were sailing the skies in ships. Not a very reliable source, I say. But in a way, it did end. This was the year we were booted, oh, excuse me, relieved from active duty, of Atlantis. At least I got to stay till the near end. I don't know whether to be happy that I stayed so long, or angry because I managed to miss the last year we first wavers had.
But despite that, it's a new beginning, too. The universe explodes in a big bang and then contracts; it follows that it explodes again, bursting with new life, a never-ending cycle. Why shouldn't a human life do the same? My ending was the Wraith, the end of our occupation of Atlantis. It was the car crash that killed my sister and her husband a week ago.
But my beginning is in Madison. I never wanted kids. Loathed them, felt awkward, and they're usually dumb as dirt. Messy, sticky hands, too. But it's not like she had anyone else. Three grandparents dead, one gone for years. Her father was an only child. So I had no choice.
Bu in the few days she's been in my care, I've learned she's more like her mother than anyone could think. For a twelve-year-old, she's rather smart. She picks up after herself. She doesn't bother me when I'm working and doesn't ask questions.
Parenting wasn't something I ever imagined. But it seems fitting that it should happen. I think John's pleased. Not about Jeannie dying, but that I am now a perpetual babysitter. After all, he himself only just got saddled with his own son.
Looks like Pegasus luck followed us both home.
~~~
The next day, Madison sat in her room, wrapped in her pink robe. She'd been lamely trying to read a book, but it hadn't been working, She couldn't focus on anything but the fact that she had trusted someone, only to have that trust thrown back in her face.
Just then, she heard a knock at the front door. She vaguely thought about getting it, but she wasn't dressed and didn't really want to talk to anyone. Besides, Kristine could answer it if needed. And she'd send whoever was there away.
The knocking stopped for a moment before it started up again, this time on the back door. When she heard someone open the door and step outside, Madison moved off the bed and cracked a window open. Eavesdropping might be sneaky, but her uncle had informed her one could learn quite bit from it.
She peered down through the white curtain that covered the window and saw Joe and Kristine. Oh. She returned to the bed but left the window open.
“I thought you were gone,” drifted up Joe's slightly raspy voice.
“I canceled my flight,” was her friend's cool reply.
“Can I see Madison?”
“No.”
“What's wrong?”
“She's asleep. Has been since yesterday.”
Not quite true. In fact, she'd barely been able to sleep, eyes burning but not willing to close. It was like that when she got depressed. She became a total insomniac. Her uncle said she'd inherited that from him. Just another reason to think maybe she was crazy.
“...don't know what to say. I feel awful.” The irritating thing was Joe sounded upset. She wished he wouldn't make it so easy for her to want to forgive him.
“Why did you sleep with her?”
A pause, then, “That's none of your business.”
“The hell it's not. I'm the one suffering with her moping around. It's not fair when you're jerking her around.”
“I didn't mean to. I don't mean to be.”
“Great sense of timing you have,” Kristine responded dryly.
“It was something we both wanted. I didn't take advantage of her.”
“Doesn't seem so to me.”
“You're taking her with you, aren't you?” Joe asked.
Madison let herself fall back on her pillow, wishing she still had that teddy bear her mother had given her so long ago. It was childish, maybe, but she really wanted to curl up with it. Back then, it had made all her problems seem to vanish.
“I am.”
“She doesn't want to go to New York.”
“Oh, like you're so in tune with her wants and needs, excuse me, Mr. Sheppard. You've known her how long? Two days? Long enough to fuck her and then fuck her over. It may not be what she wants, but it's what she needs. She needs to start somewhere new. Get away from the ghost of her uncle and people like you. You fucking so-called geniuses. You manage to fuck everything up; create big problems, all in the name of science and then you leave them for normal people like me to clean them up.”
She couldn't hear Joe's reply but Kristine answered it with, “Look. Once we get out there and she's set up, I'll call you. Give you her number. Then you can call her, ok?”
“Fine,” Joe sounded resigned. “There's one other thing. I'm not sure--”
“Here.” Madison could visualize Kristine handing Joe the purple notebook filled with equations.
“Oh,” his voice was startled. “I thought this would...”
“Be harder? Look, as I said, I'm a lawyer. Unlike Madison, I understand things have to be proved, things have to be corroborated or they're no good to anyone. I'm just hoping for her sake, it is hers.”
“Me too. This, this means a lot.”
“I'm also hoping,” and now Kristine's tone was befitting of the Supreme Court's hearing room, “that neither Madison nor my trust in you is misplaced. I put my card in there. I expect I'll hear from you whenever you figure out something.”
“Of course.”
Another few moments of silence and Madison was drifting off when Kristine spoke again.
“Joe?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind explaining to me what's in there? What it means? I'll admit, I'm curious.”
Another short pause. “How much math do you have?”
“Nothing like you or Madison, but I got to multivariable and stochastic calculus. I also learned a lot from Madison's mom. She had us memorizing derivatives when we were eight.”
“Alright.”
Madison listened to the sound of chairs moving around a table and papers shuffling. She fell asleep to the low drone of their voices as Joe struggled to explain things she already had ingrained in her mind.
~~~
April 11th, 2012
Dr. Keller says I've lost about ten years. I went from forty-five to fifty-five in thirty seconds. I've always had two things to hold over John: brains and my youth-in comparison to him, anyway. Now the ungrateful bastard is six years my junior. Life in the Pegasus Galaxy is really unfair.
~~~
“Uncle Rodney?” she asked, stepping out onto the back porch. She pulled her cream parka about her closer, tempted to even put up the hood. There'd been a huge blizzard two days before and all of Colorado was blanketed in white, the temperature was about fifteen degrees.
Her uncle, however, was sitting on the back porch in an old t-shirt that said “I'm With Genius”.
“What are you doing?” she continued.
“Working,” he answered, distracted. His glasses were slipping down his nose and his white hair was blowing in the light breeze.
“It's freezing out here. Where's your coat?”
“Hmm? Oh, don't need it.”
“Aren't you cold?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“Well--”
“Look, you mind not bothering me right now? I'm on a roll!” He finally looked up, a wide, lopsided grin on his face.
“I was calling you. Didn't you hear?”
“Turned the phone off. It's such a hassle to get up and answer it. Nothing like our old comms.”
She didn't have a clue what he was talking about, but this just wouldn't do. “Come on, come inside. I was worried. I skipped class.”
He gave a grunt of acknowledgment and didn't move. She wandered inside for a moment, coming back out with his jacket. She grabbed one arm and shoved it in a sleeve, the repeated it with the other. If the man wasn't going to dress himself properly...
“I don't understand why you couldn't just bring the cell out here.”
“Frankly,” he responded, irritation growing in his voice, “it's a question of priorities. I find my work is much more important than petty telemarketers or the military.”
“You're working?” she asked incredulously, grabbing a blanket from the chest on the porch and wrapping it around the man as well. He was practically shaking. She couldn't be sure it was from the cold, not with his strange excitement, but she didn't want to take chances. The odd emblem featuring a winged horse lay smooth across his back.
“Yes! I haven't felt like this in years, Madison. I think I've finally kicked it. I'm my old self.”
“Wow, really?”
“Isn't it amazing?” He closed the notebook he was working in, giving her another grin and clutching the blanket about his shoulders. “I feel like I could do anything. I mean, it's not all flowing like it once did, it'll take some dedicated thought, but I feel so much better. Hell, I bet I could solve Arcturus in just a few days like this. Figure out the bridge Jeannie and I tried.”
Again, she had no clue what he was talking about, but she'd gotten used to his use of weird names or references to things of his past. Half the time they were sane, like when he mentioned her mother. Other times, he'd ramble about alien vampires and she'd have to make him some warm milk-which he insisted he hated-and send him to bed. She was glad those days were over.
“That's great, Uncle Rodney.”
“It is, isn't it?” He seemed to loose five years when he got that smug expression on his face. Sometimes he'd get this mischievous glint int his eyes and look at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to make some snide or negative remark that he could then tear to bits as he explained why she didn't understand his genius. She'd had enough conversations that went exactly like that to know the look. She just hated when his face fell because she didn't respond how he expected her to. She wondered who it was that had been the Abbot to his Costello.
“I can see it now,” he continued, ignoring her lack of any response but a small smile. “The military will want me back. Carter will be jealous as hell. Whole new theories, Madison! If only your mother were around to see me now. Her and her fingerpaint equations.” He humphed, not entirely displeased. Then he paused. “I'm sorry. How is school?”
“Fine,” she responded, startled by the quick change of subjects.
“Professors treating you right? Like the smart woman you are? You know, I never had much faith in Carlson...”
“They're fine,” Madison broke in, smothering a laugh. One day feeling up to snuff and he was back to criticizing ever other person in the field. It was good to hear.
“Made any friends? Seeing anyone? Not that I suggest it, boys will take away from study and research time, but I wouldn't blame you.”
“Hold on, now.”
“Oh, not boys? Well, that's fine, too. Just find someone as smart as you. Life will be positively boring otherwise.”
“Uncle Rodney!” she said said, aghast.
He had the good grace to look chastised. Only on him it looked more put upon than anything. “I just meant--”
“I was wondering what the work was,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh. Right.”
“Can I see it?”
“I'm afraid it's just the early stages. Nothing concrete.” Now he seemed tentative. She'd never seen that before.
“That's ok.”
“I don't think--”
“Can I just see?”
She reached for the notebook. He put his hand on top of hers to stop her. It was cold, but still felt comforting; encompassing and skilled. He watched her for a moment before sighing and removing his hand.
“Oh, alright. If you're really interested.”
“I am.”
“I suppose. It is your field.”
“Yes,” she replied.
He paused. “You know how happy that makes me, right? And how proud your parents would be of you?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Her uncle so rarely gave compliments that each was something special.
“You know, I started to worry I might never get it back. There's nothing an intellectual fears more than loosing what makes him that way. Like a soldier might loose a leg, but they can retrain, and with modern technology, they can fight again. But once the brain goes, nothing's left. I was...well, I'll deny it if you ever repeat this but, I was scared.”
Madison gazed at her uncle. She reached over and patted his arm while he bit nervously at his lips, wringing his hands together.
“But then, I remembered you. You're rather smart. And you're just starting out. You'll get your degree and go on to do great things. And that...that made it alright. All the same, I'm glad to have my mojo back.” He smiled. “In fact...I had an even better idea. I think we should work together.”
“What?” she asked, startled and slightly awed.
“Well, I worked with your mother a few times. And you, you're no where near as annoying as she was. Most of the time,” he amended. “Here,” he said, pushing a notebook at random towards her. “See what you think.”
She took the journal, smiling. She opened it to the first page and began to read.
“It's rough, like I said.”
She read a moment longer before putting it down. “Let's go inside, Uncle Rodney.”
“Now, I know it might be a little hard for you at first, but we can work through it. Let me talk you through it.”
“It's cold. You must be cold. Let's go inside.”
“No, no, I can't concentrate in there. It's too hot. Too restricting. Come here, let's work it out.”
She sighed sadly. “I don't think--”
“For the love of-read the first few lines to me! I swear I'll walk you through it.” He was really annoyed now, and his hand wringing was more forceful.
She picked up the notebook and opened it, struggling to keep her voice frustration and tear free. She began to read.
“Let X equal all quantities of X. If X equals the cold, Y equals the hot. There are twelve months in a year on Earth. There are thirteen months on Atlantis. Earth has four hot months and four cold. This leaves four in between. Atlantis has seven Y months. That leaves five X months, not equal to Earth X months. The wormhole produces extreme X temps. The derivative of John's hair was two. John's tendency towards heroism was tenth fold. His ability to escape was twice that.”
She set down the notebook, looking at her hands resting on top of it for a moment.
“I'm cold.” Her uncle was shivering, eyes unfocused.
“Let's go in,” she said kindly, walking around the table to help her uncle up.
“Don't leave.”
“I won't,” she replied.
~~~
January 17th, 2014
John was married once. How do I know this? Was it because he told me at the beginning? 'Hey, buddy, I'm John and I was once married'. No, no. In fact, it seems Ronon, our resident barbarian knew long before me.
No, the bastard only came to me after a visit to Earth. SG-1 needed our help and there was a lull in the Wraith menace so we got to come back and be good little gene puppets for the SGC.
Turns out, he was married. And then, he and the little wife got divorced. But she never told him she was pregnant at the time. A boy, named Joseph Allan Sheppard.
And somehow, she worked her way through the levels of red tape of the American military to demand to see her ex to share the news. And John comes to me to tell me this and ask if he thinks he should quit Atlantis and raise his son. Right. Like any of us could quit. There were giant vampire bugs and an asinine military keeping us there. Besides, it was our home. Or, it felt close enough. Even he knew that.
Frankly, I don't know why she waited so long. Why she decided to find him, then. I mean, the kid was nine-years-old. He'd gone that long without a dad. She wanted John to, what? Pay her? Take the kid?
It made no sense at the time. It just gave the man more guilt to deal with. Like he didn't have enough with Ford, with the other men he'd lost by then.
Then we get back. We get booted off our city and he decides to be a good dad and live with his ex and son. It lasts for about seven months and then she's gone. Poof. Guess I was right all those years ago. She'd never wanted the kid in the first place. She just waited until she could get rid of him.
And Jeannie was worried about me being around kids. Christ.
John's living in Colorado Springs now. I wouldn't have minded him being closer. I have to say, I miss the team. Teyla gone, Ronon still in Pegasus...it would be nice. But he can do more for the SGC there than here in Boulder. And the idiot won't stop helping them. Like he owes them anything. They're the ones who took us away from Atlantis.
If only O'Neill hadn't died, we might still have been in Atlantis. I sometimes feel like if Elizabeth had fought a little harder...or if the damn Ori had never existed. Or the fucking Wraith. So many things could have gone differently.
But now it seems John and I both are doomed to live out our days as parents to children we never intended to have. It's a burden. Some days.
~~~
Madison walked onto the porch, a rolling suitcase dragging behind her and a coffee cup in her other hand. Kristine was sitting at the table leafing through real estate documents and who knew what else. She was perfectly coiffed today; dark hair tied back in a French twist, a traveling black suit that featured a short jacket and long pants, and she wore spectator pumps. She'd gone to a salon yesterday so her nails were freshly tipped. Next to her, Madison felt like she was going on a nature walk, dressed in an ankle-length rust-colored skirt and cream button-up. She ran a hand through her hair, brushing a golden curl from her eye.
“Morning. Good coffee.”
Kristine didn't look up. “Thanks. I found the cutest little coffee shop two blocks over the other day when I went to get the newspaper. 'Course, it's not as good as the shop we have around the corner in New York. They import Columbian beans there. It's a venture capital, family owned. Amazing what people are doing in the world these days. Self-owned coffee shops all the way from South America.” She signed her name on one line and turned the page of whatever she was reading.
Madison smiled. Her friend had always been good at multitasking. “Sounds nice.”
“I'm sure you'll like it.” Kristine glanced up. “You look nice.”
“Oh. Thanks. You look great.”
Kristine just smiled and turned back to her papers.
“It's bright out here. Warm, actually.”
“I'll admit, I do miss the outdoors sometimes. I wouldn't trade our condo for a house-too much upkeep-but I wouldn't mind a deck, you know? I miss the one you and your parents had.”
“You only miss it 'cause once I moved here, you had no excuse to peer in at the next door neighbor boy,” Madison teased and was thanked by Kristine sticking her tongue out, as though they were eleven once more.
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. I thought he was the love of my life back then.”
“And you'd said, what? Two words to him?” Madison couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out.
“Those were the days...” Kristine trailed off. “Do you want to be a lone for a bit? We don't have to leave for about twenty minutes or so-”
“No, it's ok.”
“You're all packed?”
Madison nodded.
“I suppose it doesn't matter. If the movers find anything, they'll ship it with everything else.”
Madison didn't say anything.
“What you're doing is right. It's time to move on.” Kristine placed a hand on her own, giving it a careful pat.
“I know.”
“But it's hard.”
“It's hard,” she acknowledged.
“You'll love it in New York. The city's so alive. Boulder isn't anything like it.”
“I'm sure. Personally, I'm looking forward to Central Park.”
“Really? Well, Sam and I can take you right away.”
“And the museums and all that shopping!” Madison couldn't help it, some of the snarky tone her uncle had taught her managed to squeeze into her voice.
“Look, I know this is hard, but-”
“Hearing you consistently say that, that's whats hard. I understand, ok?”
“You've got great things waiting for you--”
“Sure. White walls. Electroshock therapy.”
“Schools!” Kristine was looking annoyed for the fifteenth time this past week. “NYU is right there-”
“Oh, yes. Gen eds, keggers, making out in the public quad...”
“Or we can get you a job. Sam knows a lot of people, I'm sure-”
Glaring, Madison pursed her lips in contempt.
“You know what? Fine!” Kristine stood up and began to pace, irritation and anger reverberating off of her. “Just stay here then!”
“No, I'm coming,” Madison responded in a deceptively calm voice.
“See how you do on your own, for all I care.”
“I'm a big girl, I think I can live on my own now, Kristine.”
“Like hell you can! You've been in bed for nearly a week! I had to cancel my flight. I've missed a week of work. I was this close to dragging you to the hospital!” The wisps of hair that came from her typically neat twist spoke more of Kristine's exasperation than anything else, but Madison couldn't have cared less.
“You could have left.”
“And leave you like that? What kind of friend do you take me for?”
“One who wants to put me in a mental institution!” screamed Madison.
Both women stopped, breathing hard, staring at each other. Madison caught herself wringing her hands, just like Uncle Rodney would do.
“Fine. Stay here then. Do whatever you want.” Kristine's voice spoke of finality. She opened her oversized Burberry bag and took out one of the tickets, slamming it down, as effectively as a piece of paper could. She paused. “Oh, one more thing. The house? In his will, your uncle left it to Joseph Sheppard.”
Then she walked to the back door and left through the house. As the car drove away, Madison collapsed, head on her arms, but somehow spinning.
Not even a minute had passed when she heard a car pull into the driveway. She didn't bother to look up until she heard someone running around the corner. Kristine didn't run.
“Oh, thank God. You're still here. I saw the car leave...” Joe stopped to catch his breath. He had on a light linen shirt and khakis and his hair was sticking up in the back just a bit. It looked familiar. Definitely not his usual self, though. He really must have run.
He held up the notebook in triumph. “It checks out. I've been over it twice, with a bunch of different people. Some mathematicians, a few of astrophysicists. Would you believe, the military contacted me? I hardly told anyone, but it was like they knew. I met this woman...Colonel Carter. You know her, right? She went over it. If I hadn't been sold on it before, she would have done so. Some of it's hard to follow. Jumps and leaps I wouldn't expect. But there's nothing wrong with it. It's genius.”
“I knew that.”
“I had to swear these guys to secrecy. According to Carter, she's the only one who knows. She said she expected something like this.”
“Great.” Madison turned away, doodling on the surface of the table with her finger. “Now you can tell the world what my uncle did.”
“I don't want to do that.”
“Oh, great. Pass it off as your own then. Though you might have to fight the colonel for it.”
“Kristine said-”
“You have her permission. She gave the book to you.”
“No, you-”
“You have mine as well. See if I care.”
“Dammit, Madison!”
That startled her enough to look up. He was standing three feet away, his eyes pleading with her, despite the anger lines around his mouth.
“I don't think your uncle wrote it,” he continued, softer. “In fact, I know he didn't.”
“Last week you thought he did.”
“That was then. But now I know. The thing is, it's too new. There's a bunch of incorporated ideas in here your uncle wouldn't have understood. I mean, yeah, he kept up on the science journals, but the theory itself has a fresh look. According to Colonel Carter, it's something neither she or Rodney ever thought about. A whole new approach.”
“And so?”
“Face it...the theory is very you. Slightly scatter-brained, but genius.”
She snorted. “Get some sleep, Joe. You look worse than me.”
“What did your uncle do for eight years? He was sick, right? How could he have mastered all of these new ideas?”
“He read about them, when he was better for that time. He was a genius, after all.”
“Yeah, but there's one more thing. All those notebooks upstairs? Each entry is dated. Even the most nonsensical. This one doesn't have a single date.”
“The handwriting...”
“Like you said. You and your uncle have similar styles. Your mom, too, actually. Must be a McKay genius family trait.”
She couldn't help the snicker that escaped her. She turned back to Joe. He'd crept a foot or so closer. He was almost next to her chair, now. “Interesting theory you have.”
“I kind of like it.” His smile was half shy, half smug.
“Funny. Me too. I think I had it last week, though.”
“I know.”
“You blew it,” she bit out.
“I can't expect you to be pleased with me, I know, but-”
“But nothing, Joe.” She stood up. “The whole act was great. Ever thought of becoming an actor? Hollywood would love you. All the 'I loved your uncle' and 'come see my band'. Brilliant stuff. Write it yourself?” She glared at him. “So good, you got yourself laid and a theory. Wow, I bet that'll be a great story to tell at the next convention.”
He sighed, doing the shuffle of his feet thing. “I was just hoping we could talk professionally, at least. There's some questions-”
“No way,” she snapped, though it pained her. Damn him!
“You're going to have to deal with it at some point. You'll have to publish it. You can't deny people this. It's-”
“It's mine and no one is owed it.”
“You know,” his eyes were sparking with anger now. She couldn't look away. “You really are just like your uncle. Yes, I respected the man greatly, even loved him, yes. But he was a selfish pain-in-the-ass and wow, you inherited that in spades. Science isn't meant to be kept to yourself. It's meant to be shared for the betterment of all. Here, at least take the notebook. Then I'll leave.”
He held it out to her.
“I don't want it,” she said, but lifted her hand to take it, anyway.
“I'm trying to make amends, here.”
“It's too late,” she whispered, and maybe it was for more than just Joe. “Too late. You should have trusted me.”
“Nothing's too late, Madison. Even death doesn't have to be the end.”
She looked at him curiously.
“Did you sell the house, then?”
She blinked at the seeming non sequitur. “Actually, it seems Uncle Rodney left it to someone in his will.”
“Not you?” Joe seemed confused.
“No. To you, as a matter of fact.”
He blinked, looking not unlike an owl. Then he smiled. “I have something to show you. But you have to promise me something, first.”
“What?” she asked cautiously.
“That you won't leave. To New York, I mean.”
“Why not? There's nothing here for me.”
“Nothing?” He raised an eyebrow.
“This was my uncle's house. Yeah, it's been my home, but now it's yours. I guess. Unless you sell it. It's old. Cold. Hell, I don't think I should spend another winter here.”
“You were born in Canada.”
“Yeah. Doesn't mean I like the cold. Not sure if I can take it.”
“New York's not much warmer,” he pointed out.
She shrugged. “Kristine thinks I need to be looked after.”
Real confusion settled over Joe's handsome features. “You looked after your uncle since you were what? Seventeen or something?”
“Maybe it's time for me, then. I feel so old some days. Like Uncle Rodney did at the end. He used to say he was younger than he looked, that it was only on the outside he was old. You know, this?” She tapped the notebook on the table where she'd set it down. “It didn't feel special writing it. He always used to say the ideas came to him from nowhere. That, while he had all his education, sometimes that wasn't enough. He had to use his imagination. Sometimes, he had to depend on others to save him. And he hated that. He was so independent. I'm not sure he ever actually needed anyone. Not even me.”
“I wouldn't say that.” Joe reached out, pulling the other chair closer to her and sitting down. He had his backpack with him.
She looked down. “I think I'm like my uncle.”
“You are,” Joe said.
“No, I mean...his sickness.”
“Trust me, Maddie. You're not. Not that way.”
Maddie? “How can you know?” She wanted to be sure, to think she wasn't. She looked at his face, expecting pity, but all she saw was understanding and...something else.
“That's what I have to show you. Colonel Carter gave me a few things when she came to see me. They're Rodney's.” He reached into his pack and pulled out another notebook, but this wasn't a cheap spiral one. It was actually a kind of datapad, clearly meant for writing. She gasped as she saw it light up.
“I know, right?” he said in response to her gasp. “I'll explain that later. But here. You need to read this.” He clicked a few times, then handed it to her. He did a double take as she took it.
“What?”
“It's just...it stayed lit.”
“You turned it on, right?”
“No, it's just, that means...never mind. I'll get to it later. Look at the date. Then read.”
She glanced down at the tablet.
April 7th, 2012
When it plunged its hand into my chest, I barely felt it. I suffered more shock than pain. In the moment I met its hungry eyes, I figured I was a goner. After all, John was being held by the wraith worshipers, Teyla was already dead, Ronon was out of commission, and there wasn't going to be any back up. Elizabeth couldn't risk sending in more good people in the middle of an ambush.--not even for us.
But I've always underestimated the Lieutenant Colonel and this was just another such time. He's never told me how he got free but Elizabeth later told me all the worshipers were gone-just vanished.
I saw over the wraith's shoulder just as it began to feed, baring its in-need-of-good-dentistry teeth at me, and there was John, looking haggard but alive. And so I grabbed the hand feeding on me and using all my fading strength began to push and though it seemed forever, I got that hand off and used its legs as a shield as Sheppard drilled it with bullets.
When it was over, I collapsed knowing I should be dead, should have been singing with devils. But all I saw was Sheppard leaning over me, an uninjured hand gentle on my face. And all I heard was the sound of his voice gruff with panic saying, “Rodney, don't you dare give up, not after I saved your ass. Please, please...”.
But it was better than the sound of any angel chorus.
She stopped. “I don't understand. This is some kind of mission journal?”
“According to Carter, it's his personal journal.”
“What does this have to do with anything? It seems like something he would have written in the past year. It makes no sense.”
“That's why I said look at the date. It seems sci-fi is true. And your uncle was a huge part of it. Until an alien attacked him and he had to be sent back to Earth. Colonel Carter said some doctor attributed his sickness to that. He wasn't actually crazy. There's no genetic history. You won't go crazy, Madison. It was because of some weird monster.”
Her head was spinning. “That's just...”
“Crazy?” He grinned. “That's what I said. But Carter showed me otherwise. And you can read it all in there. Everything we thought about your uncle? He wasn't the smartest man on Earth. He was the smartest man in two galaxies. Mind-boggling, huh?”
“I can't...this is too much.”
“There's more.” He reached into his bag again and pulled out a disc. “I haven't watched this myself yet. I wanted us to do it together.”
Madison eyed him warily. “I'm not sure...”
“You'll want to see this. I promise.”
His face was so earnest, she couldn't help it. Madison sighed and stood up. As they walked into the house, she absent-absentmindedly thumbed at the datapad. Not crazy. She might think this was a crazy delusion, but then Joe would be in on it, too, and that made no sense. And hadn't the colonel said she'd be seeing her soon? It was insane, but made sense, too. She should have known her uncle would never be satisfied with something small.
She laughed to herself.
They sat down on the couch, Joe rambling on about Carter, and he popped in the disc. When it started, she saw two people. One was her uncle. The other was...
“John!” she exclaimed. It'd been so long.
Joe paused it. “Wait, you know him?”
“Of course. John came to visit us a lot. Before Uncle Rodney got sick. Before he died.”
Joe stared at her. “That's my dad.”
“Your...” Suddenly things clicked. Why her uncle might have left the house to Joe. Why Joe had always looked familiar. His hair didn't stick up like John's, but it was the same shade. His smile was the same. “It makes sense now. They worked together.”
“Carter told me that, yeah. I knew they were friends. It's one of the reasons I wanted to study under your uncle. My dad used to bitch about him and his ego all the time, but it was never the way he'd talk about the military. That was always done with resentment. He always talked about Rodney...different.”
They sat in silence for a minute before Joe turned back to the TV and hit play. The two men seemed to be jostling each other. John was in all black and sitting on a high stool while her uncle stood next to him.
“Pay attention, John.”
“Wait, we're filming now? Why didn't you tell me, McKay?”
“Oh, shut up, fly boy. Let's just get started.”
Her uncle cleared his throat.
“So, Joe. If you're seeing this, it means we're both dead.”
“Oh, way to start, McKay.”
“Well, it's true, right? I gave Sam specific orders not to give this to him until we're both gone.”
“Fine, fine.”
The younger-looking man rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, if your father would stop interrupting me...”
John shoved at him.
“I'll interrupt you...”
“Oh, God. How did you live with this man, Joe? He's insufferable!”
“Says the egomaniac astrophysicist.”
“Oh, that's right. Mock the brains, you dumb grunt.”
Mean as it seemed, Madison could hear the underlying affection in her uncle's voice. She smiled.
“Yeah, but I'm your dumb grunt.”
She laughed as she saw Uncle Rodney's eyes go wide, then roll exaggeratedly. Joe glanced over at her, a smile on his face.
“Oh, God. So, the whole point of this is to explain a few things to you. First, your father and I worked for the US Air Force. Specifically, the SGC, spelled out, it's Stargate Command. The Stargate is something that was found in Egypt in 1912 or some other, irrelevant date. In 1997, it was opened with the help of one linguist, Dr. Daniel Jackson. He and at-the-time Colonel O'Neill went to another planet, Abydos, via the Stargate, which creates a wormhole through time and space. There, they found an alien race known as the Goa'uld. They also found out that there wasn't just one Stargate, but rather a whole system of them."
Madison and Joe watched, both enthralled as the scientist went on to speak of SG-1 and the Ancients, the search for Atlantis and the subsequent expedition to. And about the Wraith.
“You see, there was once my sister asked me if I started the war. But, I must admit, Joe. It was actually your dad, here.”
“Hey now! It's not like I meant to!”
“I never said you did.”
The two bickered on and forty-five minutes later, Madison's whole world had been spun upside down. The screen went black and everything she saw settled into place with everything she'd seen growing up.
“They were in love,” she stated, slightly awed.
“I always wondered why Dad never remarried,” Joe agreed, looking a little shocked himself. “He told me he'd been there, done that once and never again. But now I think I know the real reason. Think how far we've come. Back when he and Rodney made this, they couldn't get married. The military still had 'don't ask, don't tell,' until 2013.”
“I think it was more than that, too, though. I-I saw them once. They kissed, but then they stopped.”
“Stopped?” Joe raised an eyebrow.
“I don't think they ever...” she waved a hand. “I think whatever they did, wherever they were, it was too big for them. They wanted to, but relied on the standards and rules to pull them through whatever they saw out there.”
Joe nodded. “It's a shame. I've never seen my dad that happy except when he was surfing.”
He reached forward to turn the video off.
“Wait,” she said, pointing at the red light which was still blinking. “There's something else.”
They waited a minute before Rodney's face appeared again, this time adjusting what looked like note cards in his hands and blinking furiously.
“Addendum, May 4th, 2016. Now, look, Joe. Your father doesn't know I'm doing this, so you know, keep it between us. I just wanted to impart a few life lessons I learned the hard way and some galaxy-wise advice.
First, you're a smart kid. Almost intelligent. Definitely the brightest I've gotten to work with since returning to Earth. Granted you're no me, but you might beat Zelenka one day. Not that you know who that is. Look him up. Radek Zelenka.
Anyway. I just want to say, use it. Don't let your father's laid back attitude become a habit, ok? That's not healthy, it'd be a waste, and frankly, only John could pull off the too cool thing. Do something big. Take after your father. He's a good man. Now, I'm not saying you have to follow in his footsteps exactly; after all, there can only be one first commander of Atlantis and he already has that title. But there's dozens of galaxies out there we haven't explored. See one of them.
But don't be like me and let your smarts weigh you down. Have fun. Do whatever it is you crazy fly boys like to do that will no doubt cause irrevocable harm and loss of limb if not life.
Fall in love. I swear, it's a living hell...but you'll never want to live anywhere else. It's worth it.
Speaking of...you should look up my niece. She's a great girl. Smart, like you. She gets all her genes from me, if not directly. She's charming and funny...and really, she wasn't too bad a kid either. You'll like her. And if you don't, you don't deserve her.
At this time, she's living with me. I don't know where she'll be by the time this gets to you. But I have no doubt it'll be at some top university or in the academic world of astrophysics. She'll stun the world with her theories, I just know it. Her name's Madison. Madison Miller.
Ok, that's, uh, that's all. I'd talk to you about leadership, but I tried that once before and it didn't work out so well. So, have a great life.”
By the time the tape shut off, Madison was blushing and avoiding Joe's stare. But when he reached out a hand in between them and smiled, she took it.
The End
Ending Note: This is kind of how I visualize Joe Sheppard's hair
ETA: Now with soundtrack!