SGA Fic: Reciprocal Symmetry ( 9 / 12 )
Title: Reciprocal Symmetry
Author: radioshack84
Rating: T
Word Count: ~45,600
Characters: John, Rodney, Carson, Elizabeth, Ronon, Teyla
Summary: Rodney is trapped underground and running out of air. Can John remember why he’s on PX9-253 in time to rescue him and if so, can they free themselves from the deadly technological trap they’re both already ensnared in?
Back to Part 8
Part 9 / 12 - One-track Mind
John wasn’t sure what was in the pills that Megan gave him because she had responded to his inquiry with “If I tell you I’ll have to kill you,” and for some reason he was inclined to believe her. Whatever the medication was, though, it had reduced his discomfort enough that he’d managed to doze until Rodney’s voice woke him with a droning explanation of how to monitor the Ancient device’s power output.
The physicist was sitting on the next bed wearing scrubs and looking irked, probably because of the IV and assortment of monitor wires he was now sporting, but he was being quite tolerant in his explanation to Carson, and seemed fairly calm in general considering the circumstances. John half-listened to what the two were saying while trying to wake up fully. After a few minutes, Rodney handed the laptop over to Carson and lay down on the bed. Beckett was hanging a small bag of clear fluid next to the saline that was already present on the hook above Rodney. John took that as his cue that things were getting underway. “See you in your dreams, Rodney.”
McKay pushed up on his elbows. “Oh, ha ha. But seriously Sheppard, whatever you may find lurking in my brain is privileged information. No stealing my theories, and no telling embarrassing stories from my childhood! Better yet, no telling stories at all.”
John grinned. “You’re too paranoid, Rodney.”
“Yes, well, even so. Good luck, and please try not to kill me.”
“If I had wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it yesterday.”
“Sheppard?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up so I can go to sleep.” McKay and Sheppard looked at each other for a long moment, some silent message seeming to pass between them, before Rodney looked away, gave a quick nod to Carson, and closed his eyes.
John watched as Beckett hooked up the sedative to Rodney’s IV and started the drip. The scientist was trying to act nonchalant, and even Sheppard didn’t realize how tense McKay had been until the drugs started to take effect and relaxed his body. Sheppard cast a nervous glance toward Beckett. “Are you sure this isn’t going to make things worse?”
“We won’t be sure of anything until we try, but I don’t think there’s much chance of makin’ it worse.”
“Well, I hope you’re right about that, Doc.”
“Rodney’s usually the one who worries about these things, not you,” Carson observed.
“Guess I just don’t want to risk putting anyone else through what’s happened to me. What am I supposed to do here anyway?” John asked, changing the subject. He’d napped for nearly forty minutes so Rodney had undoubtedly already had time to badger Carson half to death about the potential dangers of what they were attempting, but if the doc had managed to convince McKay despite his paranoia, well, that spoke for itself.
Beckett shrugged in response to John’s query, “The drugs will take him down pretty fast. I can tell ya when his brain activity reaches a comatose level. At that point, I’m afraid it’s up ta you.”
“But you’ll know if something changes?”
“Aye, most definitely. The EEG will show any alteration in Rodney’s brain activity. Just do what ya normally would ta activate Ancient technology, Colonel. I’ve seen nothing ta indicate that this should be any different.”
“If you say so.” John eyed the metal contraption warily. It was situated between he and Rodney, hooked up to two laptops and an Ancient scanner, and wasn’t doing anything as far as he could tell, not even a couple of minutes later when Carson announced that McKay’s brain activity was in the official comatose range. Though that was an expected condition of this phase of their experiment, Sheppard couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Taking a deep breath to calm his own nerves, John turned his full attention to the unconscious man before him.
-----
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. At twenty-plus-two-seconds Carson broke the silence, “Anything yet?”
“You tell me. I’m winging it here.”
Carson studied the EEG readings for a moment, and also the power-monitoring system Rodney had set up. He shook his head. “No change. Ya haven’t sensed anything at all?”
“No, and I’ve already gone through all of my normal methods. Twice. Maybe the sedatives are interfering.”
“It’s a possibility I can’t rule out, but for all intents and purposes, he is in a coma. This should work, it’s just a matter of figurin’ out the details.”
Which could prove harder than it sounds, Sheppard thought, but then he had an idea. He shoved aside the blankets covering him and carefully sat up. John received a few creaks and complaints from his body, but the aches were muted and he made it all the way to his feet and even took a couple of wobbling steps toward McKay before the motion drew the attention of Carson’s peripheral vision.
“Colonel…” Beckett began with a weary sigh, but then thought better of wasting his breath on another lecture. Instead, he settled for gripping Sheppard’s arm and steadying the man as he continued in McKay’s direction.
Grateful for the assistance, though he’d never admit it, John decided to answer the question Carson’s expression was asking. “The Ancients seemed to like activating things with touch,” he said. “What if this does work like in Star Trek?” Reaching out, John placed the fingertips of his good hand on McKay’s forehead, suddenly glad the man was unconscious. He couldn’t believe he was actually trying to perform a mind meld, and with Rodney of all people!
Beckett brought over a chair and John sat down without objection. His knees were already shaking and he’d only been up for a short time. After fifteen minutes of getting no results with his new method, he grumbled, “Come on, McKay, give me something to work with here.”
At forty minutes, John considered touching the device again, just for the hell of it, but knew Carson would be furious, probably going so far as to call the whole thing off. At one hour, he gave in to his one and only remaining idea and stood up. “I swear, Doc, if you ever breathe one word of this to McKay I’ll not only deny it, but you’ll find yourself the recipient of a prank the likes of which this city has never seen before!”
Beckett looked up from his laptop and raised an eyebrow at the colonel’s sudden outburst. Once he’d been satisfied that Sheppard wouldn’t pass out from being upright, he’d continued catching up on paperwork, and aside from checking the power readings as Rodney had asked, he’d left the colonel to his task. Now he watched curiously as Sheppard changed position, splaying his fingers to cover points on Rodney’s temple, cheekbone, and jaw-line. Only the underlying seriousness of the situation and biting his lip enabled Carson to keep a straight face when John said, “My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts.”
After a beat, Sheppard looked up and shrugged sheepishly, “Figured it was worth a shot.”
Beckett shrugged back. “Science and medicine have both employed stranger methods at times, Colonel, some of which have been known ta work.”
John didn’t answer, and Beckett’s amusement was wiped out when he saw Sheppard’s body stiffen, his eyes fixed on Rodney’s face in an unseeing trance. “Colonel? Come on, lad, now is definitely not the time ta be jokin’ around.”
It took a full half-minute of hearing Carson’s increasingly-worried voice calling out to him before John was able to respond. He drug in a shaky breath, “I’m not joking, Doc…I…I think I’m in.”
“Explain, if ya wouldn’t mind, Colonel.”
“I can’t…just check the power.”
Carson hurried over to the laptop that was monitoring the device’s power level and studied the screen. “Power output has decreased by half a percentage point,” he reported. John gave a short nod in response.
Beckett had expected something further, but when the colonel remained silent the doctor’s brows drew together in concern. He moved around to the other side of Rodney’s bed so he could see John’s face more clearly. What he saw didn’t ease his mind. Sheppard continued to stand rigidly, his injured arm pressed against his side, his face taut with an expression of intense concentration. Most worrisome was his pallor-which had been pasty to start and was now going on translucent-the beads of sweat blossoming across his forehead, and his shallow erratic breathing. Carson wanted to intervene but he couldn’t deny his own curiosity about what was happening, so he elected to wait, at least for the time being.
-----
John didn’t have the first clue what he was supposed to be doing. He was accustomed to activating Ancient technology by having it respond to his thoughts and mental requests. He was accustomed to shutting it down the same way, with a simple command. Therefore, by the time he’d resorted to the revered methods of Mr. Spock to solve his dilemma, he’d held only a slim hope that he would make any progress at all. That was until he’d found himself standing before the shimmering event horizon of an active stargate.
The colonel blinked, more than a little disoriented. Wasn’t he in the infirmary? If he was, then this could mean only one thing. A satisfied smirk forming on his face, Sheppard stepped through the gate…and found himself inside a small, windowless chamber. Someone else was there too. He could hear a voice calling out to him. John scanned the room but didn’t see anyone. He studied the characters on the wall, recognized them as symbols of a gate address, but the distracting voice kept speaking until its familiarity and insistence grabbed his attention. The voice was…telling him a joke? No, it was Beckett, telling him not to joke and sounding worried. So this was it? He had really made some sort of contact with Rodney’s mind?
Beckett wanted an explanation. The gate-symbol-scripted walls melted away around John, growing transparent as he asked Beckett about the device’s power level. He figured he should at least make sure he was going the right direction, so to speak, before plunging further into the unknown. He did not provide an explanation of what had happened, however, partially because he didn’t know how to, but mostly because of the effort it took to keep the walls at bay long enough to hear Beckett’s response about the power. Once he knew it was dropping, he let the walls form up again.
Sheppard scrutinized the walls more closely, looking for a way out of the room or at least a hidden chamber. A laptop appeared in front of him so suddenly, floating in mid-air, that he jumped. The image on the screen was familiar: Atlantis’ gate interface. It was waiting for IDC confirmation. Since he didn’t see a GDO in the vicinity, John started typing his IDC into the hovering laptop.
The instant he hit enter, some unseen force yanked him backwards. He literally stumbled as the infirmary reappeared around him and would’ve fallen if not for the chair he’d been using earlier. As it was, he sat down hard enough that the legs scraped noisily across the floor.
“Colonel? Are ya all right?” Beckett asked, hurrying toward the dazed man and making use of his patient’s momentary distraction to take his vitals.
“Y-yeah.” Sheppard said shakily. He felt as though his ears should be ringing from the force of whatever had pulled him back, but they weren’t.
“How do ya feel?”
John tried to hide a grimace. The look Beckett was giving him suggested that he didn’t succeed. “I’m okay,” he said, forcing his expression from slightly-pained to one of wry humor. “It just figures somehow that Rodney’s mind is password-protected.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow, but didn’t seem all that surprised. It was a true testament to McKay’s personality. “What did ya see?”
“A stargate, then there was this little room with a laptop to enter an IDC. Apparently I entered the wrong one,” John said flatly. His eyes widened in sudden realization. “I know the right one though!” He made to stand, but Carson stepped in front of him and he was forced to either stay seated or shove the doc out of the way. Frowning, he chose the former.
“Just slow down there. Your vitals are a bit unstable. I’m not sure ya should go right back-”
“Dammit, Doc. I’m not gonna keel over,” John growled in frustration. “I took some kind of mental jolt from entering the wrong code, but I know what not to do now. I’ll be more careful this time.”
“What kind of a jolt?” Carson didn’t like the sound of that.
John sighed. “It’s hard to explain. It didn’t really hurt though, just broke the connection and kicked me back to reality.”
Carson nodded slowly. The colonel did seem to be regaining a little color, but that didn’t mean he was fine. “Did ya get any sort of an idea how long it might take ta shut down the device?”
“Not a clue. What’s the power level reading now? That might be a better hint.”
“It’s one and a half points below where we started.” Beckett paused, studying another portion of the screen. “Bloody hell.”
“What?”
“The power level’s rising. It must only decrease while the connection is active,” Beckett said thoughtfully.
“So that means I’m going to have to do this all at once if it’s going to work?”
“Aye, that’s a good assumption. Since I don’t suppose there’s any way I’ll talk ya into waiting on this, I’d like ta keep an eye on your vitals in the meantime. That ‘jolt’ didn’t do ya any favors and ya were only…in there…for a few minutes.”
The colonel shrugged. “Fine, but I need to get back in there.” John was feeling an urgency he couldn’t quite explain, and as he waited for Beckett to hook him back up to the monitoring equipment, he wondered if it was the Ancient device causing the sensation. If it was, he would spend time later being creeped out by it. The doc reluctantly pronounced him good to go and he moved back to his position near Rodney. John once again placed his fingertips along the side of McKay’s face, but chose to skip the Star Trek quotes. He was fairly sure that touch had everything to do with the connection, but the timing of his words had just been a matter of coincidence. He repeated in his mind what he’d been thinking the first time around, and almost instantly the infirmary was replaced by the stargate looming in front of him.
Slightly less-startled by its appearance this time, John stepped through the gate and into the little room with the stargate-symbol walls. Again he thought about a way out, and again the laptop appeared waiting for an IDC. “At least it’s consistent,” he muttered, and started entering McKay’s code. John took a deep breath, not cherishing the thought of being forcibly removed again, then he reached out and hit the enter key.
The wall he was facing vaporized, and John exhaled in relief before he stepped forward into a massive chamber, easily the size of half a football field. The space was indirectly lit, but small multi-colored lights chased in regular spurts along unseen tracks in the floor and distant walls, giving the room a vaguely pulsating, living feel. Cautiously, John made his way forward, looking for any signs of the room’s purpose, but he found none. Okay, now what? he thought.
The question was rhetorical in that he hadn’t spoken it aloud and didn’t expect a response, but a response he received, one that set aside any remaining doubt that he was glimpsing Rodney’s mind. John slowly turned a circle, gaping at the sight before him. From within the gigantic floor of the gigantic room, pedestals began rising. Tens, maybe even hundreds of them, spaced evenly to form a grid pattern. Atop each one rested a cylindrical, instantly-recognizable crystalline object. ZPMs. Only a handful of them were active, judging by their glow, but the ones that weren’t steadily lit still pulsated intermittently with an amber-colored radiance that matched the rhythm of the chasing lights. John could also feel and hear a soft, thrumming resonance now, keeping pace with the illumination.
Shaking his head, John murmured, “Only you would have a ZPM factory in your brain, McKay.” He stepped up to the nearest pedestal and studied it, wishing he could read Ancient better…and suddenly he could. Sheppard blinked, and looked again at the once-foreign symbols that were now giving him clear information on the standard power output of a ZPM. Startled to say the least, he moved to the next pedestal, finding similar information to be easily readable. He looked at maybe five or six of them before concluding that nothing very helpful was listed on the pedestals themselves. Where then? he wondered. And how the hell am I able to read Ancient?
John moved further down the line, still reading the pedestals to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He was growing confused when a new platform popped up from the floor, directly in his path and in line with the pulsating ZPM to his right. The pedestal before him didn’t have Ancient lettering, but its ZPM was glowing a solid orange and a tablet computer was attached to its side. He peered at the screen curiously. The number 863 was in the center in large black text, and two violet buttons were beneath it. They read Prime and Not Prime. John smiled. That was an easy one. Picking up the tablet’s stylus, he selected Prime. The pedestal abruptly sank back into the floor, but the tablet remained hovering in front of him. Instinctively, Sheppard reached out to grab it, expecting it to fall, but it didn’t and he easily plucked it from the air. A single, louder thrum sounded beside him and he saw that the ZPM to his right had powered up and was now glowing steadily.
The screen on the tablet had gone blank and he waited several seconds for something to happen, but nothing did so he again moved forward, tablet in hand. Passing by several more ZPMs without incident, John decided to change direction, but before he could do so, the tablet screen lit up with a large green arrow pointing to the left. The colonel raised an eyebrow, but he had no particular reason not to take the arrow’s advice, so he turned left. Another pedestal almost tripped him and the tablet screen changed to display a chess board. A couple of pawns on each side had been captured, but the majority of the pieces hadn’t been moved yet. John immediately recognized the set-up as the game he had played against Rodney a few days ago. McKay had argued that Sheppard had somehow managed to cheat when he’d claimed victory with his next move, but John had insisted otherwise and their being late to a briefing had ended the discussion. Looking at the board on the tablet still hadn’t changed John’s mind and he made his move, the same as before. After a lengthy pause, during which he heard the hard drive in the tablet whine as if making more calculations per second than it was capable of, the screen announced ‘checkmate.’ John had the distinct and entirely irrational feeling that the tablet was miffed at him for making the move, but the screen simply went blank, the platform disappeared back into the floor, and the ZPM next to him thrummed to full power.
When the process repeated again-the tablet asking him to answer a basic physics question this time-John suddenly understood what was happening. The ZPMs were representing Rodney’s level of consciousness, and activating them all would mean McKay would wake up and the mind-meld machine would no longer be needed. Spurred on by the realization, he hurried to find the next ZPM he needed to power up.
-----
It had now been more than an hour and a half since Colonel Sheppard had re-entered Rodney’s mind, but Carson found himself unable to return to his paperwork. It was going against his every instinct to even let this experiment continue. The colonel was far from healthy, and though his vitals had normalized-Carson had been watching the monitors like a hawk-whatever John was doing was taking its toll. Those vitals were gradually weakening, but Beckett needed only his eyes to tell him that. John still stood at Rodney’s side, though his shoulders were slumped and his face drawn with fatigue as he stared, entranced, at the unconscious scientist. He hadn’t spoken or even moved, with the exception of his slowly-wilting posture. The white scrub shirt clung to his back, and his face and neck were slick with perspiration. Most troublesome was that the power level of the Ancient device hadn’t even dropped below the halfway mark, it was still at 63 percent. Whatever the colonel was doing was working, but Carson feared it wasn’t working quickly enough.
Another 25 minutes saw the power inch downward another point, but also signaled the approaching limit of John’s failing strength. Carson noticed the colonel’s knees beginning to wobble and when the man failed to respond to his name, remaining absorbed in the connection with Rodney, Beckett moved to support him knowing it was only a matter of time. Sure enough, not even three minutes later Sheppard’s knees buckled completely. Carson cursed and yelled for a gurney.
-----
John was working his way through the ZPM room at best possible speed, but either the tasks were getting more difficult or his concentration was waning, and he would almost bet on the latter. Not that it was surprising. He’d been tired to start with, and after who-knew-how-long of solving physics equations, random chess moves, prime/not prime questions, and problems he recognized from Mensa preparation materials, John figured his concentration couldn’t be blamed for its flakiness.
It wasn’t until he began stumbling and needing to use the ZPM pedestals for support that he started to worry. If his theory about activating the ZPMs was correct, then he still had just under half of them to go before McKay would wake up and the Ancient device would shut down. Not being a pessimistic person by nature, he cursed his thought that there was no way he was going to make it.
Sheppard entered a move into the tablet for the latest chess game and cringed when his headache spiked. The pain slowly eased and he concentrated harder, trying again. John supposed it made sense that the headache would get worse if he answered a question incorrectly. This was Rodney’s mind, after all, and so giving a wrong answer was equal to disagreeing with him. That didn’t make the twenty or so bad decisions he’d made any less painful though.
As the tablet announced checkmate and yet another ZPM powered on, Sheppard heard Beckett calling his name. His concentration was already spread too thin though and he couldn’t answer, instead walking unsteadily forward, following the tablet’s instructions toward the next ZPM. A pedestal popped up in front of him, and he reached to set the tablet on it when he felt hands grip his arm, then his waist. Startled, John paused, but found that the hands weren’t restricting him, only offering support, and that he could stand a little more easily now so he continued with his task, glad that this was an easy one: 1323, prime or not prime? He was about to enter ‘not prime’ when a wave of vertigo hit. The ZPM room vanished around him, and he heard a familiar accent shouting at someone. The hands were still there, lowering him carefully to a chair.
“John? Can ya hear me, lad?” Beckett’s voice again. The colonel forced heavy eyelids open-when had he closed them?-and focused on Carson, thankful that the room had ceased its spinning.
“Doc…why’d we stop? It was working,” John rasped, his throat suddenly feeling like it was coated with sandpaper.
“All I did was catch ya before ya hit the floor, Colonel. The connection must’ve broken when ya lost physical contact with Rodney because ya sure weren’t respondin’ ta me.” Carson looked more than a little worried as he reached for his stethoscope.
Sheppard didn’t have the energy or will to move, so he let Beckett do his thing while he concentrated on not falling over. His eyes must have slipped closed again because suddenly he was being hauled out of the chair by more hands. Eyes snapping open, he noticed that a gurney had appeared next to him and he tried to pull away from Beckett. “No, have to finish shutting it down…”
“Aye, son, and ya will shortly. Megan and I are just going ta help ya lie down, okay?”
“I’m fine,” John mumbled, clearly trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
“Bloody daft is what ya are, Colonel. I’m not asking. Lay down before ya pass out.” Carson grasped John’s shoulders and coaxed him too easily onto his back with just the slightest of nudges. He found logic at war with logic as he studied the man. Sheppard was ungodly pale and trembling, and he offered no response or motion as Megan covered him with a blanket and gently wiped his face with a warm damp cloth. The simple effort of blinking his eyelids open each time gravity drug them down seemed to cost him greatly.
On the one hand, logic dictated that a man as exhausted and injured as the colonel ought to be nowhere but tucked up in bed, asleep and recovering. On the other, it dictated that Sheppard probably shouldn’t be allowed to fall asleep right now, given the nature of what he was attempting and how very little they knew about the potential consequences. If he slept, he might never wake up. He might cause himself or Rodney irreparable brain damage. Or he might be just fine and get a much-needed rest.
Carson sighed. Damn logic. It might have worked for those fictional pointy-eared aliens who never smiled, but he refused with greater conviction each day to buy into the unlikely scenario that logic played any part whatsoever in the Ancients’ reasoning when they’d invented their insane arsenal of technology. “Colonel?” Carson squeezed Sheppard’s shoulder to get his attention. “Do ya think ya could manage ta stay awake for a few more minutes?”
John’s eyes blinked open slowly and it seemed to take him several seconds to focus on Beckett. “I’ll try…tired.”
“I know ya are, lad. I’m going ta get ya something ta help ya wake up a little, but I need for ya not ta fall asleep before I get back.”
“Coffee?” John asked, perking up at the idea, his eyes opening almost fully.
“Not exactly, but I think you’ll find it just as effective. Maybe more so.” Carson looked up when Megan cleared her throat and couldn’t say he was surprised at the skeptical look she was giving him. He would’ve questioned him too for considering giving someone in John’s condition stimulants, but he didn’t see that he had much of a choice in this instance. Shaking his head slightly, he offered her a small smile. She gave him a long look, then shrugged, trusting that he knew what he was doing. She turned her attention back to the colonel while Beckett left to get the medication.
-----
Sheppard had never felt so instantly alert in his life, except for maybe a time or two when excessive amounts of adrenaline and life-sucking aliens were involved. “This stuff’s great, Doc. I think I’ll skip the coffee line from now on and get a shot of this every morning,” he said, grinning.
“Don’t thank me yet, Colonel. That stuff isn’t without its consequences, and in your present condition I can only expect you’ll crash hard when it wears off.”
John shook his head. “I just need enough to keep going until I can get this thing shut down. Then I can sleep for a week. How long will it last?”
Carson shrugged. “I didn’t give ya a full dose, so four, five hours at the most. I’m guessing closer ta three.”
“I’d better get to work then.” John started to sit up, but paused when both Megan and Carson frowned at him. “What?”
“You’re on that gurney for a reason, Colonel, and you’ll stay there until you’re finished. I have no desire ta find out what would happen if ya lost consciousness during this. That’s the only reason I risked giving ya a stimulant in the first place.”
John nodded in understanding, able to think a little more clearly with what felt like pure caffeine buzzing through his veins, though he had to admit it was only masking the tiredness in his body. “I have to be in physical contact with Rodney for this to work,” he pointed out.
“That’s easy enough to accomplish,” Megan piped in, and with Beckett’s help maneuvered the gurney close alongside McKay’s bed until Sheppard was literally only inches apart from the scientist. The colonel could just imagine the comments Rodney would make if he were to wake right about now. Sighing inwardly, John knew he would make much the same remarks if their situation were reversed, but also knew he would want Rodney to do what needed to be done, even if that meant being a little more touchy-feely than their definitions of personal space generally allowed for.
Setting aside the awkwardness, Sheppard reached out and laid his palm across his friend’s forehead. Reaching the same points as before would’ve caused him to twist his wrist at an odd angle, and since this would likely take another hour at least, that wasn’t an option. The stimulant coursing through him was making him slightly jittery, but he schooled the agitation into concentration, and soon he was back in, pleased to find that he hadn’t lost too much ground with the delay. He picked up the tablet from the pedestal it was resting on and continued to follow where it led him.
Beckett stood waiting while the colonel apparently made the connection once again, then wondered what he was waiting for since it seemed that it was extremely difficult for Sheppard to carry on a conversation while he was connected. It was late and the infirmary was rather quiet, so Carson pulled up a chair and grabbed his laptop, but soon gave up all pretenses of paperwork in favor of a game of solitaire. Megan joined him a while later, carrying two cups of coffee-coffee that was actually hot and not several hours old. Smiling his thanks, he put aside the laptop altogether and they settled down to keep vigil.
Over the next two hours, they watched the power level of the device inch downward and though there had never been a rapid decrease, the numbers were dropping slower than ever. Carson could only assume that it was due to the colonel’s exhaustion. The stimulant had held off the fatigue fairly well thus far, but Sheppard’s vitals were beginning to show signs that he was coming down. His body showed it too. Dark circles stained the skin beneath his closed eyes and contrasted sharply with cheeks that were far too pale. Tremors passed through his limbs from time to time, and beads of cold sweat continued to appear along his hairline, hinting at the further exertion that was taking place. That crash Beckett had warned about was approaching, and he only hoped John would be able to hold out long enough to finish the job.
The power reading on the computer Rodney had set up was accurate to a hundredth of a percentage point and somewhere in the wee hours of the morning it had finally dropped below one percent. It was currently showing at 0.18 percent, declining a hundredth of a point every minute or so. Colonel Sheppard, however, had reached the limits of his stimulant-induced stamina. He was barely awake, judging from his vitals, and he hadn’t verbally responded to questions of how he was doing in over 45 minutes. The monitor had reached 0.01 percent when Megan’s worried voice broke the silence that had overtaken them, “Doctor, I think he’s asleep. Should I try to wake him?”
Carson’s eyes immediately fixed back on the power reading. It was holding at 0.01 percent, and both of the touch plates on the device were dark. He gave the colonel’s monitors a glance. They confirmed what Megan had said. “How are Rodney’s vitals looking?” he asked.
Stepping over to the other bed, she studied the displays for a few seconds. “All fairly normal. His brain activity seems to be increasing steadily as well.”
Beckett sighed, chewing on his lower lip for a moment, finally shaking his head no. “We’ll get the colonel back ta his bed and let him rest. I expect he’ll be out for a good while and he’ll be more comfortable there.”
Megan and Carson wheeled Sheppard back across the room and transferred him carefully from the gurney to the bed. He stirred slightly, but didn’t show any sign of waking. “Continue regular vitals checks on both of them for the next few hours and let me know if there’s any change. I also want ta know immediately if that bloody piece of metal starts powerin’ up again,” Carson said, rubbing his eyes.
“On one condition.” Beckett gave Megan a questioning look, to which she responded, “Go take a nap, Carson. You’re starting to make Colonel Sheppard look chipper.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Aye, I suppose ya have a point. Ya know where ta find me if there are any problems.”
“Of course. Now beat it.” She winked at him and he chuckled as he turned away toward his office.
On to Part 10
Author: radioshack84
Rating: T
Word Count: ~45,600
Characters: John, Rodney, Carson, Elizabeth, Ronon, Teyla
Summary: Rodney is trapped underground and running out of air. Can John remember why he’s on PX9-253 in time to rescue him and if so, can they free themselves from the deadly technological trap they’re both already ensnared in?
Back to Part 8
Part 9 / 12 - One-track Mind
John wasn’t sure what was in the pills that Megan gave him because she had responded to his inquiry with “If I tell you I’ll have to kill you,” and for some reason he was inclined to believe her. Whatever the medication was, though, it had reduced his discomfort enough that he’d managed to doze until Rodney’s voice woke him with a droning explanation of how to monitor the Ancient device’s power output.
The physicist was sitting on the next bed wearing scrubs and looking irked, probably because of the IV and assortment of monitor wires he was now sporting, but he was being quite tolerant in his explanation to Carson, and seemed fairly calm in general considering the circumstances. John half-listened to what the two were saying while trying to wake up fully. After a few minutes, Rodney handed the laptop over to Carson and lay down on the bed. Beckett was hanging a small bag of clear fluid next to the saline that was already present on the hook above Rodney. John took that as his cue that things were getting underway. “See you in your dreams, Rodney.”
McKay pushed up on his elbows. “Oh, ha ha. But seriously Sheppard, whatever you may find lurking in my brain is privileged information. No stealing my theories, and no telling embarrassing stories from my childhood! Better yet, no telling stories at all.”
John grinned. “You’re too paranoid, Rodney.”
“Yes, well, even so. Good luck, and please try not to kill me.”
“If I had wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it yesterday.”
“Sheppard?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up so I can go to sleep.” McKay and Sheppard looked at each other for a long moment, some silent message seeming to pass between them, before Rodney looked away, gave a quick nod to Carson, and closed his eyes.
John watched as Beckett hooked up the sedative to Rodney’s IV and started the drip. The scientist was trying to act nonchalant, and even Sheppard didn’t realize how tense McKay had been until the drugs started to take effect and relaxed his body. Sheppard cast a nervous glance toward Beckett. “Are you sure this isn’t going to make things worse?”
“We won’t be sure of anything until we try, but I don’t think there’s much chance of makin’ it worse.”
“Well, I hope you’re right about that, Doc.”
“Rodney’s usually the one who worries about these things, not you,” Carson observed.
“Guess I just don’t want to risk putting anyone else through what’s happened to me. What am I supposed to do here anyway?” John asked, changing the subject. He’d napped for nearly forty minutes so Rodney had undoubtedly already had time to badger Carson half to death about the potential dangers of what they were attempting, but if the doc had managed to convince McKay despite his paranoia, well, that spoke for itself.
Beckett shrugged in response to John’s query, “The drugs will take him down pretty fast. I can tell ya when his brain activity reaches a comatose level. At that point, I’m afraid it’s up ta you.”
“But you’ll know if something changes?”
“Aye, most definitely. The EEG will show any alteration in Rodney’s brain activity. Just do what ya normally would ta activate Ancient technology, Colonel. I’ve seen nothing ta indicate that this should be any different.”
“If you say so.” John eyed the metal contraption warily. It was situated between he and Rodney, hooked up to two laptops and an Ancient scanner, and wasn’t doing anything as far as he could tell, not even a couple of minutes later when Carson announced that McKay’s brain activity was in the official comatose range. Though that was an expected condition of this phase of their experiment, Sheppard couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Taking a deep breath to calm his own nerves, John turned his full attention to the unconscious man before him.
-----
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. At twenty-plus-two-seconds Carson broke the silence, “Anything yet?”
“You tell me. I’m winging it here.”
Carson studied the EEG readings for a moment, and also the power-monitoring system Rodney had set up. He shook his head. “No change. Ya haven’t sensed anything at all?”
“No, and I’ve already gone through all of my normal methods. Twice. Maybe the sedatives are interfering.”
“It’s a possibility I can’t rule out, but for all intents and purposes, he is in a coma. This should work, it’s just a matter of figurin’ out the details.”
Which could prove harder than it sounds, Sheppard thought, but then he had an idea. He shoved aside the blankets covering him and carefully sat up. John received a few creaks and complaints from his body, but the aches were muted and he made it all the way to his feet and even took a couple of wobbling steps toward McKay before the motion drew the attention of Carson’s peripheral vision.
“Colonel…” Beckett began with a weary sigh, but then thought better of wasting his breath on another lecture. Instead, he settled for gripping Sheppard’s arm and steadying the man as he continued in McKay’s direction.
Grateful for the assistance, though he’d never admit it, John decided to answer the question Carson’s expression was asking. “The Ancients seemed to like activating things with touch,” he said. “What if this does work like in Star Trek?” Reaching out, John placed the fingertips of his good hand on McKay’s forehead, suddenly glad the man was unconscious. He couldn’t believe he was actually trying to perform a mind meld, and with Rodney of all people!
Beckett brought over a chair and John sat down without objection. His knees were already shaking and he’d only been up for a short time. After fifteen minutes of getting no results with his new method, he grumbled, “Come on, McKay, give me something to work with here.”
At forty minutes, John considered touching the device again, just for the hell of it, but knew Carson would be furious, probably going so far as to call the whole thing off. At one hour, he gave in to his one and only remaining idea and stood up. “I swear, Doc, if you ever breathe one word of this to McKay I’ll not only deny it, but you’ll find yourself the recipient of a prank the likes of which this city has never seen before!”
Beckett looked up from his laptop and raised an eyebrow at the colonel’s sudden outburst. Once he’d been satisfied that Sheppard wouldn’t pass out from being upright, he’d continued catching up on paperwork, and aside from checking the power readings as Rodney had asked, he’d left the colonel to his task. Now he watched curiously as Sheppard changed position, splaying his fingers to cover points on Rodney’s temple, cheekbone, and jaw-line. Only the underlying seriousness of the situation and biting his lip enabled Carson to keep a straight face when John said, “My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts.”
After a beat, Sheppard looked up and shrugged sheepishly, “Figured it was worth a shot.”
Beckett shrugged back. “Science and medicine have both employed stranger methods at times, Colonel, some of which have been known ta work.”
John didn’t answer, and Beckett’s amusement was wiped out when he saw Sheppard’s body stiffen, his eyes fixed on Rodney’s face in an unseeing trance. “Colonel? Come on, lad, now is definitely not the time ta be jokin’ around.”
It took a full half-minute of hearing Carson’s increasingly-worried voice calling out to him before John was able to respond. He drug in a shaky breath, “I’m not joking, Doc…I…I think I’m in.”
“Explain, if ya wouldn’t mind, Colonel.”
“I can’t…just check the power.”
Carson hurried over to the laptop that was monitoring the device’s power level and studied the screen. “Power output has decreased by half a percentage point,” he reported. John gave a short nod in response.
Beckett had expected something further, but when the colonel remained silent the doctor’s brows drew together in concern. He moved around to the other side of Rodney’s bed so he could see John’s face more clearly. What he saw didn’t ease his mind. Sheppard continued to stand rigidly, his injured arm pressed against his side, his face taut with an expression of intense concentration. Most worrisome was his pallor-which had been pasty to start and was now going on translucent-the beads of sweat blossoming across his forehead, and his shallow erratic breathing. Carson wanted to intervene but he couldn’t deny his own curiosity about what was happening, so he elected to wait, at least for the time being.
-----
John didn’t have the first clue what he was supposed to be doing. He was accustomed to activating Ancient technology by having it respond to his thoughts and mental requests. He was accustomed to shutting it down the same way, with a simple command. Therefore, by the time he’d resorted to the revered methods of Mr. Spock to solve his dilemma, he’d held only a slim hope that he would make any progress at all. That was until he’d found himself standing before the shimmering event horizon of an active stargate.
The colonel blinked, more than a little disoriented. Wasn’t he in the infirmary? If he was, then this could mean only one thing. A satisfied smirk forming on his face, Sheppard stepped through the gate…and found himself inside a small, windowless chamber. Someone else was there too. He could hear a voice calling out to him. John scanned the room but didn’t see anyone. He studied the characters on the wall, recognized them as symbols of a gate address, but the distracting voice kept speaking until its familiarity and insistence grabbed his attention. The voice was…telling him a joke? No, it was Beckett, telling him not to joke and sounding worried. So this was it? He had really made some sort of contact with Rodney’s mind?
Beckett wanted an explanation. The gate-symbol-scripted walls melted away around John, growing transparent as he asked Beckett about the device’s power level. He figured he should at least make sure he was going the right direction, so to speak, before plunging further into the unknown. He did not provide an explanation of what had happened, however, partially because he didn’t know how to, but mostly because of the effort it took to keep the walls at bay long enough to hear Beckett’s response about the power. Once he knew it was dropping, he let the walls form up again.
Sheppard scrutinized the walls more closely, looking for a way out of the room or at least a hidden chamber. A laptop appeared in front of him so suddenly, floating in mid-air, that he jumped. The image on the screen was familiar: Atlantis’ gate interface. It was waiting for IDC confirmation. Since he didn’t see a GDO in the vicinity, John started typing his IDC into the hovering laptop.
The instant he hit enter, some unseen force yanked him backwards. He literally stumbled as the infirmary reappeared around him and would’ve fallen if not for the chair he’d been using earlier. As it was, he sat down hard enough that the legs scraped noisily across the floor.
“Colonel? Are ya all right?” Beckett asked, hurrying toward the dazed man and making use of his patient’s momentary distraction to take his vitals.
“Y-yeah.” Sheppard said shakily. He felt as though his ears should be ringing from the force of whatever had pulled him back, but they weren’t.
“How do ya feel?”
John tried to hide a grimace. The look Beckett was giving him suggested that he didn’t succeed. “I’m okay,” he said, forcing his expression from slightly-pained to one of wry humor. “It just figures somehow that Rodney’s mind is password-protected.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow, but didn’t seem all that surprised. It was a true testament to McKay’s personality. “What did ya see?”
“A stargate, then there was this little room with a laptop to enter an IDC. Apparently I entered the wrong one,” John said flatly. His eyes widened in sudden realization. “I know the right one though!” He made to stand, but Carson stepped in front of him and he was forced to either stay seated or shove the doc out of the way. Frowning, he chose the former.
“Just slow down there. Your vitals are a bit unstable. I’m not sure ya should go right back-”
“Dammit, Doc. I’m not gonna keel over,” John growled in frustration. “I took some kind of mental jolt from entering the wrong code, but I know what not to do now. I’ll be more careful this time.”
“What kind of a jolt?” Carson didn’t like the sound of that.
John sighed. “It’s hard to explain. It didn’t really hurt though, just broke the connection and kicked me back to reality.”
Carson nodded slowly. The colonel did seem to be regaining a little color, but that didn’t mean he was fine. “Did ya get any sort of an idea how long it might take ta shut down the device?”
“Not a clue. What’s the power level reading now? That might be a better hint.”
“It’s one and a half points below where we started.” Beckett paused, studying another portion of the screen. “Bloody hell.”
“What?”
“The power level’s rising. It must only decrease while the connection is active,” Beckett said thoughtfully.
“So that means I’m going to have to do this all at once if it’s going to work?”
“Aye, that’s a good assumption. Since I don’t suppose there’s any way I’ll talk ya into waiting on this, I’d like ta keep an eye on your vitals in the meantime. That ‘jolt’ didn’t do ya any favors and ya were only…in there…for a few minutes.”
The colonel shrugged. “Fine, but I need to get back in there.” John was feeling an urgency he couldn’t quite explain, and as he waited for Beckett to hook him back up to the monitoring equipment, he wondered if it was the Ancient device causing the sensation. If it was, he would spend time later being creeped out by it. The doc reluctantly pronounced him good to go and he moved back to his position near Rodney. John once again placed his fingertips along the side of McKay’s face, but chose to skip the Star Trek quotes. He was fairly sure that touch had everything to do with the connection, but the timing of his words had just been a matter of coincidence. He repeated in his mind what he’d been thinking the first time around, and almost instantly the infirmary was replaced by the stargate looming in front of him.
Slightly less-startled by its appearance this time, John stepped through the gate and into the little room with the stargate-symbol walls. Again he thought about a way out, and again the laptop appeared waiting for an IDC. “At least it’s consistent,” he muttered, and started entering McKay’s code. John took a deep breath, not cherishing the thought of being forcibly removed again, then he reached out and hit the enter key.
The wall he was facing vaporized, and John exhaled in relief before he stepped forward into a massive chamber, easily the size of half a football field. The space was indirectly lit, but small multi-colored lights chased in regular spurts along unseen tracks in the floor and distant walls, giving the room a vaguely pulsating, living feel. Cautiously, John made his way forward, looking for any signs of the room’s purpose, but he found none. Okay, now what? he thought.
The question was rhetorical in that he hadn’t spoken it aloud and didn’t expect a response, but a response he received, one that set aside any remaining doubt that he was glimpsing Rodney’s mind. John slowly turned a circle, gaping at the sight before him. From within the gigantic floor of the gigantic room, pedestals began rising. Tens, maybe even hundreds of them, spaced evenly to form a grid pattern. Atop each one rested a cylindrical, instantly-recognizable crystalline object. ZPMs. Only a handful of them were active, judging by their glow, but the ones that weren’t steadily lit still pulsated intermittently with an amber-colored radiance that matched the rhythm of the chasing lights. John could also feel and hear a soft, thrumming resonance now, keeping pace with the illumination.
Shaking his head, John murmured, “Only you would have a ZPM factory in your brain, McKay.” He stepped up to the nearest pedestal and studied it, wishing he could read Ancient better…and suddenly he could. Sheppard blinked, and looked again at the once-foreign symbols that were now giving him clear information on the standard power output of a ZPM. Startled to say the least, he moved to the next pedestal, finding similar information to be easily readable. He looked at maybe five or six of them before concluding that nothing very helpful was listed on the pedestals themselves. Where then? he wondered. And how the hell am I able to read Ancient?
John moved further down the line, still reading the pedestals to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He was growing confused when a new platform popped up from the floor, directly in his path and in line with the pulsating ZPM to his right. The pedestal before him didn’t have Ancient lettering, but its ZPM was glowing a solid orange and a tablet computer was attached to its side. He peered at the screen curiously. The number 863 was in the center in large black text, and two violet buttons were beneath it. They read Prime and Not Prime. John smiled. That was an easy one. Picking up the tablet’s stylus, he selected Prime. The pedestal abruptly sank back into the floor, but the tablet remained hovering in front of him. Instinctively, Sheppard reached out to grab it, expecting it to fall, but it didn’t and he easily plucked it from the air. A single, louder thrum sounded beside him and he saw that the ZPM to his right had powered up and was now glowing steadily.
The screen on the tablet had gone blank and he waited several seconds for something to happen, but nothing did so he again moved forward, tablet in hand. Passing by several more ZPMs without incident, John decided to change direction, but before he could do so, the tablet screen lit up with a large green arrow pointing to the left. The colonel raised an eyebrow, but he had no particular reason not to take the arrow’s advice, so he turned left. Another pedestal almost tripped him and the tablet screen changed to display a chess board. A couple of pawns on each side had been captured, but the majority of the pieces hadn’t been moved yet. John immediately recognized the set-up as the game he had played against Rodney a few days ago. McKay had argued that Sheppard had somehow managed to cheat when he’d claimed victory with his next move, but John had insisted otherwise and their being late to a briefing had ended the discussion. Looking at the board on the tablet still hadn’t changed John’s mind and he made his move, the same as before. After a lengthy pause, during which he heard the hard drive in the tablet whine as if making more calculations per second than it was capable of, the screen announced ‘checkmate.’ John had the distinct and entirely irrational feeling that the tablet was miffed at him for making the move, but the screen simply went blank, the platform disappeared back into the floor, and the ZPM next to him thrummed to full power.
When the process repeated again-the tablet asking him to answer a basic physics question this time-John suddenly understood what was happening. The ZPMs were representing Rodney’s level of consciousness, and activating them all would mean McKay would wake up and the mind-meld machine would no longer be needed. Spurred on by the realization, he hurried to find the next ZPM he needed to power up.
-----
It had now been more than an hour and a half since Colonel Sheppard had re-entered Rodney’s mind, but Carson found himself unable to return to his paperwork. It was going against his every instinct to even let this experiment continue. The colonel was far from healthy, and though his vitals had normalized-Carson had been watching the monitors like a hawk-whatever John was doing was taking its toll. Those vitals were gradually weakening, but Beckett needed only his eyes to tell him that. John still stood at Rodney’s side, though his shoulders were slumped and his face drawn with fatigue as he stared, entranced, at the unconscious scientist. He hadn’t spoken or even moved, with the exception of his slowly-wilting posture. The white scrub shirt clung to his back, and his face and neck were slick with perspiration. Most troublesome was that the power level of the Ancient device hadn’t even dropped below the halfway mark, it was still at 63 percent. Whatever the colonel was doing was working, but Carson feared it wasn’t working quickly enough.
Another 25 minutes saw the power inch downward another point, but also signaled the approaching limit of John’s failing strength. Carson noticed the colonel’s knees beginning to wobble and when the man failed to respond to his name, remaining absorbed in the connection with Rodney, Beckett moved to support him knowing it was only a matter of time. Sure enough, not even three minutes later Sheppard’s knees buckled completely. Carson cursed and yelled for a gurney.
-----
John was working his way through the ZPM room at best possible speed, but either the tasks were getting more difficult or his concentration was waning, and he would almost bet on the latter. Not that it was surprising. He’d been tired to start with, and after who-knew-how-long of solving physics equations, random chess moves, prime/not prime questions, and problems he recognized from Mensa preparation materials, John figured his concentration couldn’t be blamed for its flakiness.
It wasn’t until he began stumbling and needing to use the ZPM pedestals for support that he started to worry. If his theory about activating the ZPMs was correct, then he still had just under half of them to go before McKay would wake up and the Ancient device would shut down. Not being a pessimistic person by nature, he cursed his thought that there was no way he was going to make it.
Sheppard entered a move into the tablet for the latest chess game and cringed when his headache spiked. The pain slowly eased and he concentrated harder, trying again. John supposed it made sense that the headache would get worse if he answered a question incorrectly. This was Rodney’s mind, after all, and so giving a wrong answer was equal to disagreeing with him. That didn’t make the twenty or so bad decisions he’d made any less painful though.
As the tablet announced checkmate and yet another ZPM powered on, Sheppard heard Beckett calling his name. His concentration was already spread too thin though and he couldn’t answer, instead walking unsteadily forward, following the tablet’s instructions toward the next ZPM. A pedestal popped up in front of him, and he reached to set the tablet on it when he felt hands grip his arm, then his waist. Startled, John paused, but found that the hands weren’t restricting him, only offering support, and that he could stand a little more easily now so he continued with his task, glad that this was an easy one: 1323, prime or not prime? He was about to enter ‘not prime’ when a wave of vertigo hit. The ZPM room vanished around him, and he heard a familiar accent shouting at someone. The hands were still there, lowering him carefully to a chair.
“John? Can ya hear me, lad?” Beckett’s voice again. The colonel forced heavy eyelids open-when had he closed them?-and focused on Carson, thankful that the room had ceased its spinning.
“Doc…why’d we stop? It was working,” John rasped, his throat suddenly feeling like it was coated with sandpaper.
“All I did was catch ya before ya hit the floor, Colonel. The connection must’ve broken when ya lost physical contact with Rodney because ya sure weren’t respondin’ ta me.” Carson looked more than a little worried as he reached for his stethoscope.
Sheppard didn’t have the energy or will to move, so he let Beckett do his thing while he concentrated on not falling over. His eyes must have slipped closed again because suddenly he was being hauled out of the chair by more hands. Eyes snapping open, he noticed that a gurney had appeared next to him and he tried to pull away from Beckett. “No, have to finish shutting it down…”
“Aye, son, and ya will shortly. Megan and I are just going ta help ya lie down, okay?”
“I’m fine,” John mumbled, clearly trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
“Bloody daft is what ya are, Colonel. I’m not asking. Lay down before ya pass out.” Carson grasped John’s shoulders and coaxed him too easily onto his back with just the slightest of nudges. He found logic at war with logic as he studied the man. Sheppard was ungodly pale and trembling, and he offered no response or motion as Megan covered him with a blanket and gently wiped his face with a warm damp cloth. The simple effort of blinking his eyelids open each time gravity drug them down seemed to cost him greatly.
On the one hand, logic dictated that a man as exhausted and injured as the colonel ought to be nowhere but tucked up in bed, asleep and recovering. On the other, it dictated that Sheppard probably shouldn’t be allowed to fall asleep right now, given the nature of what he was attempting and how very little they knew about the potential consequences. If he slept, he might never wake up. He might cause himself or Rodney irreparable brain damage. Or he might be just fine and get a much-needed rest.
Carson sighed. Damn logic. It might have worked for those fictional pointy-eared aliens who never smiled, but he refused with greater conviction each day to buy into the unlikely scenario that logic played any part whatsoever in the Ancients’ reasoning when they’d invented their insane arsenal of technology. “Colonel?” Carson squeezed Sheppard’s shoulder to get his attention. “Do ya think ya could manage ta stay awake for a few more minutes?”
John’s eyes blinked open slowly and it seemed to take him several seconds to focus on Beckett. “I’ll try…tired.”
“I know ya are, lad. I’m going ta get ya something ta help ya wake up a little, but I need for ya not ta fall asleep before I get back.”
“Coffee?” John asked, perking up at the idea, his eyes opening almost fully.
“Not exactly, but I think you’ll find it just as effective. Maybe more so.” Carson looked up when Megan cleared her throat and couldn’t say he was surprised at the skeptical look she was giving him. He would’ve questioned him too for considering giving someone in John’s condition stimulants, but he didn’t see that he had much of a choice in this instance. Shaking his head slightly, he offered her a small smile. She gave him a long look, then shrugged, trusting that he knew what he was doing. She turned her attention back to the colonel while Beckett left to get the medication.
-----
Sheppard had never felt so instantly alert in his life, except for maybe a time or two when excessive amounts of adrenaline and life-sucking aliens were involved. “This stuff’s great, Doc. I think I’ll skip the coffee line from now on and get a shot of this every morning,” he said, grinning.
“Don’t thank me yet, Colonel. That stuff isn’t without its consequences, and in your present condition I can only expect you’ll crash hard when it wears off.”
John shook his head. “I just need enough to keep going until I can get this thing shut down. Then I can sleep for a week. How long will it last?”
Carson shrugged. “I didn’t give ya a full dose, so four, five hours at the most. I’m guessing closer ta three.”
“I’d better get to work then.” John started to sit up, but paused when both Megan and Carson frowned at him. “What?”
“You’re on that gurney for a reason, Colonel, and you’ll stay there until you’re finished. I have no desire ta find out what would happen if ya lost consciousness during this. That’s the only reason I risked giving ya a stimulant in the first place.”
John nodded in understanding, able to think a little more clearly with what felt like pure caffeine buzzing through his veins, though he had to admit it was only masking the tiredness in his body. “I have to be in physical contact with Rodney for this to work,” he pointed out.
“That’s easy enough to accomplish,” Megan piped in, and with Beckett’s help maneuvered the gurney close alongside McKay’s bed until Sheppard was literally only inches apart from the scientist. The colonel could just imagine the comments Rodney would make if he were to wake right about now. Sighing inwardly, John knew he would make much the same remarks if their situation were reversed, but also knew he would want Rodney to do what needed to be done, even if that meant being a little more touchy-feely than their definitions of personal space generally allowed for.
Setting aside the awkwardness, Sheppard reached out and laid his palm across his friend’s forehead. Reaching the same points as before would’ve caused him to twist his wrist at an odd angle, and since this would likely take another hour at least, that wasn’t an option. The stimulant coursing through him was making him slightly jittery, but he schooled the agitation into concentration, and soon he was back in, pleased to find that he hadn’t lost too much ground with the delay. He picked up the tablet from the pedestal it was resting on and continued to follow where it led him.
Beckett stood waiting while the colonel apparently made the connection once again, then wondered what he was waiting for since it seemed that it was extremely difficult for Sheppard to carry on a conversation while he was connected. It was late and the infirmary was rather quiet, so Carson pulled up a chair and grabbed his laptop, but soon gave up all pretenses of paperwork in favor of a game of solitaire. Megan joined him a while later, carrying two cups of coffee-coffee that was actually hot and not several hours old. Smiling his thanks, he put aside the laptop altogether and they settled down to keep vigil.
Over the next two hours, they watched the power level of the device inch downward and though there had never been a rapid decrease, the numbers were dropping slower than ever. Carson could only assume that it was due to the colonel’s exhaustion. The stimulant had held off the fatigue fairly well thus far, but Sheppard’s vitals were beginning to show signs that he was coming down. His body showed it too. Dark circles stained the skin beneath his closed eyes and contrasted sharply with cheeks that were far too pale. Tremors passed through his limbs from time to time, and beads of cold sweat continued to appear along his hairline, hinting at the further exertion that was taking place. That crash Beckett had warned about was approaching, and he only hoped John would be able to hold out long enough to finish the job.
The power reading on the computer Rodney had set up was accurate to a hundredth of a percentage point and somewhere in the wee hours of the morning it had finally dropped below one percent. It was currently showing at 0.18 percent, declining a hundredth of a point every minute or so. Colonel Sheppard, however, had reached the limits of his stimulant-induced stamina. He was barely awake, judging from his vitals, and he hadn’t verbally responded to questions of how he was doing in over 45 minutes. The monitor had reached 0.01 percent when Megan’s worried voice broke the silence that had overtaken them, “Doctor, I think he’s asleep. Should I try to wake him?”
Carson’s eyes immediately fixed back on the power reading. It was holding at 0.01 percent, and both of the touch plates on the device were dark. He gave the colonel’s monitors a glance. They confirmed what Megan had said. “How are Rodney’s vitals looking?” he asked.
Stepping over to the other bed, she studied the displays for a few seconds. “All fairly normal. His brain activity seems to be increasing steadily as well.”
Beckett sighed, chewing on his lower lip for a moment, finally shaking his head no. “We’ll get the colonel back ta his bed and let him rest. I expect he’ll be out for a good while and he’ll be more comfortable there.”
Megan and Carson wheeled Sheppard back across the room and transferred him carefully from the gurney to the bed. He stirred slightly, but didn’t show any sign of waking. “Continue regular vitals checks on both of them for the next few hours and let me know if there’s any change. I also want ta know immediately if that bloody piece of metal starts powerin’ up again,” Carson said, rubbing his eyes.
“On one condition.” Beckett gave Megan a questioning look, to which she responded, “Go take a nap, Carson. You’re starting to make Colonel Sheppard look chipper.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Aye, I suppose ya have a point. Ya know where ta find me if there are any problems.”
“Of course. Now beat it.” She winked at him and he chuckled as he turned away toward his office.
On to Part 10