Might, by Blue_underwing
Title: Might
Author: blue_underwing
Rating: PG
Category: Gen
Characters: McKay, Zelenka, Weir, etc.
Spoilers: Non-specific
Word count: ~3500
Warnings: Dyslexics Untie
ETA: Now with beta by the wonderful blade_girl. All remaining errors are mine. Also, REVISED ENDING. It's better now, I swear.
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis or any of the music referred to here in.
Author’s Note: I did not borrow these plot devices, I stole them outright.
Summary: Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we plan
Might
“You do not need to be the one to do this, Rodney,” he said to the man on the infirmary bed.
“We’ve already had this conversation, Radek. It needs someone with an ATA gene to make it work, and you don’t have one. So unless you think Kusanagi or, God forbid, Kavanagh, is fully competent to handle this, I’m the one who has to--”
“Well I bloody well want to know why anyone has to do this at all!” Carson cut in.
“Hmmmm.... Let me think. Well, there are the dozens of hiveships gunning for us, all full of life-sucking aliens planning to eat us at the first opportunity. There are ascended religious fanatics heading towards Earth, ruthlessly murdering anyone who won’t buy into their own little version of Truth. Oh, and let’s not forget that little Replicator problem we’ve been having lately! I’d say anything that could shift the balance of power a bit more towards our side would be a good thing right now, wouldn’t you?”
“That doesn’t change the fact that this... this Thing... is completely untested and could be bloody dangerous.”
“And thus we are doing this in the infirmary. You’re right here to chant and shake your rattles if anything goes wrong. Not that anything will go wrong, of course. I’ll be done in a few minutes, and there will be plenty of time for Radek and I to get the first analysis underway before the end of shift. We won’t even be late for dinner.”
“Is a good thing, too,” Radek commented. “Lieutenant Stevenson is performing tonight. Missing dinner would be a tragedy.”
That Goddamned piano! If McKay knew whose bright idea it was to set up that keyboard and microphone in the mess hall, he’d see to it they never got hot water again.
“Yes. How horrible it would be if our quest to save the galaxy from the Wraith kept you from the joy of watching a military grunt attempt to bang out Chopsticks.”
“You are merely jealous that he has a talent you do not.”
Thank you oh so much, Radek. Now why don’t you give me a nice paper-cut and pour lemon juice on it. And now I’m quoting The Princess Bride to myself. I should never have given Sheppard that DVD.
“That’s not even worthy of a response. Can we get on with this before the Wraith show up and we all died of old age?” I can’t believe I’m rushing us towards the risk-my-life portion of the evening to avoid discussing my musicality. How the Hell did it come to this?
Zelenka hesitated. “You are positive that you should do this?”
“Oh for... Just hand it over, already.” McKay snatched the device out of Radek’s hand and turned it on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How the Hell did it come to this?, he thought for the millionth time. I went to Julliard, I have a freakin’ Ph.D. in music, and I’m stuck playing piano in a bar. But he hadn’t dedicated three decades of his life to music just to end up in academia, and apparently navigating the higher realms of the art world required social skills. Unfortunately, it seemed the only remaining options were teaching (I would hang myself first) or a crap job like this.
“You getting all broody again, Roddy?”
He turned on the bartender. “For the umpteen-jillionth time, it is Rodney! Or Rod if you simply must contract. Not Roddy!”
“You know you love it.”
“Christ, John. You are such an ass!” For some reason he couldn’t figure out, the name John was reminding him of someone tonight. Someone other the Nordic-looking man currently annoying him, that is. He couldn’t quite match a face to the name though. Well, I’ll figure it out eventually.
“I’ll stop being an ass if you’ll stop spreading the gloom. Now, your set was supposed to start five minutes ago. Smile. Go play.”
McKay shot him a glare and stalked over to the piano, peeved at being spoken to like a child. By the time he got there he’d decided what piece to do. With any luck, it will piss the grinning bastard off. Hands touched keys and he began to sing.
“Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The only reason I authorized this experiment was that I was assured this sort of thing wouldn’t happen.” Dr. Elizabeth Weir was in the infirmary, standing over the bed where her chief scientist had been lying unconscious for the past eighteen hours.
“It should not have,” Dr. Zelenka told her. “There was nothing to indicate the device could possiblly cause coma. Worse case scenario was that it would merely cause Dr. McKay to go insane.”
“Funny,” Elizabeth’s voice indicated it was anything but. “I don’t remember that possibility being mentioned either.”
“Ah.. um...” Radek was suddenly very glad Rodney’s teammates were off-world. This conversation was unpleasant enough with Drs. Weir and Beckett now glaring at him. He did not know if he could have handled it if Ronon Dex had been looming over him as well. “It is not so much insane as overwhelmed. The Ancients had the bad habit of creating data repositories that download directly into brain. Were some unfortunate experiences at SGC. General O’Neil’s mind was overloaded. Made him act strangely. Asgard had to fix him.”
“And Rodney thought it was a good idea to use this thing?” Carson couldn’t believe it.
“No, no,” Radek assured him. “Is different type. That is what I am trying to explain. Those were huge databases, containing vast amounts of data. This is much smaller, like a flash-drive. That is why can carry it around. Dr. McKay should have been able to handle the download.”
“Should have?” Elizabeth wanted to know.
“If not, Asgard could fix him.” He hurried on, seeing Dr. Weir’s look. “But in no case should this have happened. The download should have been less than a minute, and then it turns off and Dr. McKay puts it back in closet. It should not have done this-this attaching itself to Rodney’s forehead and putting him in coma. There was nothing in the data to suggest that was possible.”
Weir continued staring at him for a moment, then seeing nothing more was forthcoming, she turned to Dr. Beckett. “I assume you tried thinking ‘off’ at it?”
“Aye, but it doesn’t seem to want to listen to me. We could try to cut the bloody thing off, but it would require removing large parts of Rodney’s skull with it...”
“So that’s not an option,” she finished for him. “Fine. Dr. Zelenka, send me all the information you have on the device and then get back to work. I would prefer not to have to explain to Colonel Sheppard why his team’s scientist is in a coma when he comes back on Wednesday.”
“I too,” said Radek, though truthfully he was more worried about Ronon and Teyla returning from their trade mission at the end of the week.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was sitting at the bar between sets when a somewhat tipsy redhead plopped herself down next to him. “Hey, you’re the piano guy, right? That last thing you played was real pretty. What’s it called?”
Rodney stared at her in disbelief and then said, very slowly and clearly “The Moonlight Sonata.”
“Oh yeah, I know that one. That deaf guy, whatshisname, wrote it, right?” She turned away from him. “Hey Johnny, make me a martini, will you honey?”
How you can you be that ignorant and live? McKay’s thought must have been showing on his face, because John (there’s that name again) shot him a look and mouthed ‘Play nice’ before passing him a beer. I should’ve gone into physics after all. Maybe then I wouldn’t be surrounded by so much idiocy. Then again, maybe I still would be. To hear Jeannie talk, the collective IQ of a physics department is less than that of a small dog.
It had been a while since he’d thought about Jeannie. He hadn’t spoken to her in years and hadn’t seen her in person for at least a decade before that. After he’d finally convinced their father he couldn’t be pried away from the piano with a crowbar, (or an instructor bribed to tell me I had no talent) the man had started shoving Jeanie into science harder than he’d ever pushed Rodney. She’d never really forgiven her brother for that. They rarely spoke after he left for college, and since she’d taken that job in Antarctica a few years ago, she’d fallen completely of the map.
Something about that last thought made him twitch, but he couldn’t figure out why. He took another swig of beer, then noticed his manager looking at him and pointing at the clock. With a stifled sigh, he stood up and walked back to the piano.
“Play Misty for me,” John called after him.
Rodney flipped him off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elizabeth Weir smiled at him from across her desk. “Dr. Zelenka, can you tell me who translated the writing on the ancient device?”
Radek could tell this was not a friendly question. Elizabeth was showing far too many teeth. “Dr. McKay did the initial translation, but he then confirmed it using translation program and had one of the linguists check it to be sure it was valid.”
“Oh? And which linguist would that be?” Even more teeth were showing now.
“I believe it was Dr. Merris.”
The false smile dropped as Weir slapped her radio. “Dr. Merris? My office. NOW!”
Zelenka gaped a moment. Dr. Weir did not often yell, and when she did it was never a good sign. “There is something wrong with the translation?”
“Did you see this passage here: ‘A guide for those who would walk the paths of might’?”
“Yes. It was that passage that made us think the information would be extremely important for us. We suspected it could be weapons schematics, but was also possible was data on power sources. Perhaps even instructions on how to construct our own ZPMs.”
“Yes, I see how you drew that conclusion. However in this case the word does not mean ‘might’ as in ‘strength’ or ‘power’, but ‘might’ as in ‘maybe’ or ‘could have been’. The Ancient forms of the words are quite different. It’s a very easy mistake for a novice or a computer to make, but it’s something any trained linguist should know to look for.”
Radek blanched. “That... That is very bad. All our analyses were done based on the idea that this device was meant to convey information that would give us power of some kind. I do not see... ‘Maybe’? We must completely redo analysis. Start over. I have no...” The door opened just then, cutting Radek off.
“Ah, there you are Dr. Merris. Dr. Zelenka? If you could start that analysis. Dr. Merris and I need to have a little chat.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“...And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Halleluiah
“Halleluiah, Halleluiah, Halleluiah, Halleluiah”
His voice died away, followed by the piano. As soon as he raised his head, the audience began to applaud appreciatively.
“That was great, McKay. But can you play something more upbeat next time? They’ll drink more if their happy.” The man slapped him on the back and walked on.
Rodney glared daggers at the manager’s retreating back. I can’t believe I’m prostituting my skill for that... Fine! If he wants upbeat that’s what he’ll get. He turned back to the piano, took a deep breath, then started to play.
The first buzzing tones were quiet then gradually gained volume and intensity. The music flew along the scale, taking the audience with it. The sound became more and more frantic as it when on, come again and again in waves, and when the piece finally came to an end with the last booming chords, the whole room stood and clapped.
McKay grinned for a moment, savoring his triumph. Then he noticed John snickering at him.
“What?” he demanded
“You are just so predictable,” the bartender told him, chuckling. “I swear you do that piece at least once a week. I think you’ve seen Shine one time too many. Trust me, playing ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ at a bar is not going to suddenly launch your career and magically send you dancing your way to Carnegie Hall.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I have Answer!” Zelenka’s shouted announcement echoed through the infirmary, waking Colonel Sheppard and drawing Carson out of his office. Both men had made it to McKay’s bedside before Radek got there.
“Well, spit it out Doc. How do we fix him?”
“Ah, Colonel Shepard. You are back. It is good you are here.”
“He’s been back for twenty hours. He came in for his post-mission exam and wouldn’t leave.”
“Getting off topic here, Carson. Zelenka, can you turn that thing off?”
“Yes, Colonel. Once we figured out that the device was designed to...”
“You can tell us how it works later. How do we turn it off?”
“That is why it is good you are here, Colonel. Needs ATA gene. Stronger is better.”
“So what do I do?”
“Press the three red spots and the blue one and think ‘off’.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes”
“And McKay will be fine?”
“Ummm, I do not know.”
“WHAT!?” Sheppard and Beckett chorused.
“The device was not meant to be used for this long. He... He might not wake up.”
“And how likely is that to happen?” Carson demanded.
“I do not know.”
“What DO you know then?”
“If he wakes up, he should be fine. There are no side effects.”
“IF he wakes up,” Sheppard repeated.
“Yes. If. The sooner device is turned off the better, Colonel.”
John glared at Zelenka for a moment, making his displeasure known, before reaching towards the device. “Dammit Rodney,” he mumbled. “That ‘if’ had better turn out to be a ‘when’ or so help me....”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey. Hey! You. The guy at the piano.”
“Yesss,” Rodney said, rolling he eyes at the overly loud drunk staggering towards him.
“Can you play this one? I don’t quite remember it, but goes kinda like this.” He hummed a few bars, badly and off key.
“You’re kidding right?” McKay snapped. “That’s the song you want me to play?”
“Uhhhhh... yes?”
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“Ummm...” The drunk was clearly confused, and the manager was starting to take notice.
“Fine, fine. I’ll play it. But you’d better give me a damn good tip.” He stared pointedly at the tip jar until the drunk dropped in a twenty, then turned to the keyboard and--
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
McKay woke up in the infirmary with a start. He looked around him and saw Beckett, Zelenka, and Sheppard? But he’s supposed to be out on the Daedalus. “What’s going on?”
“Well...”
Beckett cut Zelenka off before he could explain. Leaning over Rodney and shining a penlight in his eyes, he asked “Can you tell me your name?”
“Dr. Rodney McKay, now can you tell...”
“Can you tell me who is President?”
“Oh for God’s sake, Carson! I’m Canadian. You should be asking me about the Prime Minister, not President. You at least I’d expect to know this. And can you stop it with the political trivia now and tell me what happened?”
Dr. Beckett shut the penlight off with an exasperated sigh and turned towards the already grinning Colonel Sheppard. “He’s fine”
“I could tell, Doc.”
“Yes, yes. I’m perfectly fine. Now can one of you yahoos tell me What Is Going ON!?”
“You’ve been in a coma.” said Carson.
“What? But there is no way the device should have done that. And I’ve been having strange dreams, which I don’t think you’re supposed to have in a coma, but I haven’t learned any new information on weapons or power sources, so what did the device do? Send me on some weird acid trip?”
“Actually,” Radek answered, “it sent your consciousness to a parallel universe.”
“WHAT!?” This time Sheppard, Beckett, and McKay all said it in unison.
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” the Colonel demand.
“I try to,” defended Zelenka, “but you would not let me. You say...”
“There was no indication that the device could possibly do that,” McKay interrupted. “Nothing in the database...”
“The translation was incorrect. The ‘might’ on the inscription meant ‘might’ as in ‘might have been’, not ‘might’ as in ‘strength’, so the item we found in the database was...”
“Completely different from the item we had in hand. Yes, yes, I get it. I swear I’m going to kill Merris next time I see him.”
“Just let me beat the crap out of him first. That is if Merris is the linguist who gave you the bad translation?”
“Yes, but Dr. Weir has beaten you to it,” Zelenka informed Colonel Sheppard. “She sent him home on Daedalus just after it dropped you off.”
“Good riddance,” declared McKay. “Now, the device? What does it do?”
“It seems was designed to allow one to see how life would have worked out if one had made a decision differently. What decision is different is based on what user is thinking about when they turn it on.”
“So what were you thinking about, Rodney?”
“Not the issue right now,” McKay danced around John’s question. Turning back to Zelenka, he asked “So how does it work?”
“I... I truly do not know,” Radek admitted. “There is an explanation in the database, but it is beyond me. I do know it was use in treatment for depression, so maybe the universe you visit was not a very good one. That way, patients can think it worked out for the best in their own universe.”
Sheppard stared at Zelenka incredulously. “The Ancients built a device that pulls your consciousness out of your body and sends it to an alternate dimension, just to treat depression?”
“No, of course not,” Radek assured him. “It was originally designed for research purposes. See what the result would have been if scientist using it had spent years working on project A instead of project B. But once it was created, was used for other purposes. Just like internet was designed to help academics and military, not download music.”
“Which means it’s possible the device could be useful for us after all, if we could change the settings. I’ll have to take a look at the data.” Rodney’s stomach chose that moment to growl. “After I eat something.”
“Dinner starts in an hour and a half,” Carson told him. “We’ll have just enough time to get you unhooked and give you a proper check-up.”
McKay gave a disgusted glans at the IV and various other tubes leading in and out of him, then looked up at Radek. “I told you we’d be done in time for dinner.”
“You’ve been unconscious for over four days, Rodney.”
“Four days, Carson?!” His eyes shifted from Beckett to Sheppard. “Well, I guess that explains why he’s here.”
“Really feeling the love, McKay.”
“Oh, suck it up Colonel. I’m the one whose consciousness has been drifting in another universe for four days.”
“Yes. And Colonel Sheppard was quite helpful in bringing you back, but you have not thanked him. Nor have you thanked me for spending the last several days in lab working to turn the device off, or apologized for causing me to miss Lieutenant Stevenson’s performance.”
Rodney looked back to Radek. “I’ll make it up to you.”
* * *
“You do not have to do this, Rodney.”
“You know, you should really get yourself some new material, Radek. That song’s getting.”
“And if you had listened to me last week, we would not now be here. It was joke. There is no need to make it up it me. But if you truly wish to, I am sure you could simple ask Lieutenant Stevenson to...”
“Are you suggesting I couldn’t possibly play as well as a half trained military grunt?”
“Ummm...”
“Think very carefully before answering.”
Radek, seeing no other way out, said “Break a leg.”
“Why do you wish Dr. McKay to be harmed?” Teyla asked Zelenka, confused and a bit shocked. Ronon narrowed his at the offending scientist and moved his chair back an inch.
“Now, clam down guys,” Sheppard intervened. “The doc was just wishing McKay good luck.”
“How is breaking ones leg good luck?”
“It’s an old theater superstition. It was considered bad luck to wish someone good luck, so instead they wished them bad luck, so that way they’d have good luck.” Teyla was now looking even more baffled. “It’s just an expression,” John assured her.
“Ah.” Teyla was clearly still confused, but willing to except that Earth customs were rather strange. Ronon seemed to share her opinion, as he no longer looked ready to spring at Dr. Zelenka at any moment.”
“Well, if the discussion of cross-cultural linguistics is over,” McKay said, rising, “The show must go on.”
“May you break your leg, Rodney,” said Teyla. Ronon grunted, smiling his agreement with the sentiment.
McKay tried to ignore the eyes on him as he walked to the keyboard, people looking up from their dinners as he past. He hadn’t played to of an audience in decades and wasn’t too thrilled with the prospect of starting up again in front of a room full of his colleagues, but he also knew if he didn’t do it today, he never would. It would just be another excuse. My fingers remember everything, and I’ve had four days of transuniversal practice.
Rodney knew he could do this. The past few nights of surreptitious midnight practices had proved it. He’d spent hours dithering over what he would perform for them, and then it had come to him. That last piece, the one he hadn’t gotten to play. A fitting tribute to a life I never lived. McKay looked at the keys for a moment to center himself, blocking out the room, Radek’s doubtful look, his teams polite smiles, and the oh so supportive glances Carson was sending him.
He touched his fingers to the keys, and music flowed out of them as it always had. A few measures later, he lifted his voice.
“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There’s an old man sitting next to me
Makin’ love to his tonic and gin...”
Down in the audience, Teyla watched the expression change on Dr. Zelenak’s face. The doubt had been erased by surprise, and now had become something akin to awe. “It is beautiful,” she whispered to him.
Radek started, then blink at her a moment before finding words. “Yes, beautiful. Just... beautiful.” His attention turned back the stage, and the music flowed on.
==========================================
Piano Man by Billy Joel
I’ts nine o’clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There’s an old man sitting next to me
Makin’ love to his tonic and gin
He says, son, can you play me a memory?
I’m not really sure how it goes
But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man’s clothes
La la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Chorus:
Sing us a song, you’re the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, were all in the mood for a melody
And you’ve got us feelin’ alright
Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he’s quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there’s someplace that he’d rather be
He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me.
As the smile ran away from his face
Well I’m sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place
Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he’s talkin’ with Davy who’s still in the navy
And probably will be for life
And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they’re sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it’s better than drinkin’ alone
Chorus
It’s a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
‘cause he knows that its me they’ve been comin’ to see
To forget about life for a while
And the piano, it sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, man, what are you doin’ here?
Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Chorus
Note: The other two pieces quoted are Smile by Charley Chaplin, and Halleluiah by Leonard Cohen