Heuriskein (Strange New Worlds & Alien Geography Challenge)
Title: Heuriskein
Author: Sealie jimandblair
Rating: G
Spoilers: none
Beta: L.
The puddlejumper’s proximity alarm gave a gentle, interested ping. Lounging in the pilot’s seat, Sheppard called up the windshield’s HUD without moving a muscle.
The vast volume of space before them concentrated down to a little blip as the HUD focussed. A challenge to look at; the area that it pinpointed seemed to strobe against the blanket backdrop of stars. It was easier to look past the blip than directly at it - to see its impact instead of its presence.
“Huh.” Interested, he cocked his head to the side. “Rodney,” he drawled.
“What. What?” McKay’s voice was distracted, intent on other matters.
Pushing with one toe, Sheppard swung his chair around. McKay sat behind him, head down, fingers arching as they tapped a salsa dance on his datapad.
“McKay-ay,” Sheppard added an extra singsonging lilt.
“What!” McKay glanced up at him, eyes a little red from intense studying. “What?”
Sheppard slowly extended an arm and pointed forward.
McKay’s head snapped upwards and a blue eyed stare fixed on the screen. “What is that?” He stood, almost on autopilot, datapad abandoned on his seat. One step, two steps, three and he stood before the screen, staring.
“Don’t you know?”
“No,” McKay said slowly, little lines spidering at the corners of his eyes as they narrowed in concentration.
“I thought you knew everything.”
“No, who told you that?”
“You did,” Sheppard pointed out.
McKay flashed a lopsided smile. “I can figure out everything. This is new.” He rose up and then down on his toes.
“It’s three parsecs away,” Sheppard supplied.
Still concentrating on the anomaly, McKay’s hands darted over the dash, selecting, refining, tweaking commands and controls. The image resolved, twisted on its axis and the colour scheme shifted.
Sheppard found that he was sitting upright -- as straight as a board -- as colour and contrast filtered to reveal a perfect, opalescent sphere as big as a solar system.
“Whoa,” Sheppard breathed.
“Pretty, isn’t it.” The lopsided grin had not shifted an inch. Light and shade, imitating depth and perception, gave rise to an illusion of reality.
“What is it?” Sheppard breathed.
“I don’t know, yet.” The glee was unmistakable. “A whole new galaxy to explore.”
McKay snatched up his laptop and even as he opened up the screen, he was hooking it up to the puddlejumper consol. Mentally, Sheppard coerced the ‘jumper - give him everything he needs. Obediently, the HUD met McKay’s commands. Data streamed over his laptop. Sheppard did not know when he stood and joined McKay, standing at his shoulder.
Equations: dx'/dt' ≠ dx/dt nor Gab ≠ kTab ~ HA! supercurve?
Helpfully, the HUD overlaid contours of force over the anomaly.
“Look!” McKay pointed. He traced a line of curling energy, highlighted in glowing gold, arching over and around and around. “It’s contained in real space-time. Our universe engulfed and formed a shell around an anomaly.”
“That’s why it’s hard to see, unless you tweak the image?” Sheppard clarified.
“Theoretically. Well, not theoretically -- since it’s there in front of us -- we can only see it because we’re so far away. And we’re not really observing it, we’re registering its impression on space-time. You realise, we could travel right up to the anomaly, but then we’d curve around it and end up on the other side. If we hadn’t seen it from this distance we might never had been aware of it.” McKay grinned again, bouncing on his heels. “I know what this is.”
“Go on then, I know you want to tell.” It wasn’t even necessary to prod. McKay vibrated with eagerness to share.
“There was a blip, a tear, in the space-time continuum, and a fragment of another universe bled into our reality. It’s not a wormhole. It’s not a black hole. It’s a proton -- probably smaller -- of material from elsewhere. And our universe responded, curling layer upon layer upon layer of space-time around it.”
“Like a pearl.”
“What?” McKay glared at him. “No, no, no, okay - well, sort of. Okay, yes, like a pearl.”
Sheppard smirked. He loved it when McKay bit and caved in the space of a heartbeat. McKay huffed angrily, but it was only bluster and fireworks. Sheppard ran his fingers gently over a roller ball on the consol, changing McKay’s chosen filters and the sphere’s colours shifted to obsidian - a black pearl on a velvet cushion.
McKay stopped, he stopped breathing, he stopped bouncing, and stood entranced.
“A pearl,” Sheppard said again. “Rodney’s Pearl.”
McKay glanced at him sideways. “You saw it first.”
“Okay,” Sheppard said easily. “The Sheppard-McKay Pearl.”
“I figured out what it was,” McKay protested. “The McKay-Sheppard Pearl.”
“If I hadn’t found it, you wouldn’t have figured out what it is,” Sheppard pointed out.
“Fine.” Rodney huffed, dropping into the co-pilot’s seat. He couldn’t keep up the air of dissatisfaction; he had revealed something new, something unique. His gaze tracked up to the pearl, starlight reflected in his eyes. The smile on his face was completely unselfconscious.
Sheppard settled in the pilot’s seat beside him. Deliberately, he called up the map function on the pilot’s personal screen and carefully typed in.
Rodney’s Pearl.
Fin.
Author: Sealie jimandblair
Rating: G
Spoilers: none
Beta: L.
The puddlejumper’s proximity alarm gave a gentle, interested ping. Lounging in the pilot’s seat, Sheppard called up the windshield’s HUD without moving a muscle.
The vast volume of space before them concentrated down to a little blip as the HUD focussed. A challenge to look at; the area that it pinpointed seemed to strobe against the blanket backdrop of stars. It was easier to look past the blip than directly at it - to see its impact instead of its presence.
“Huh.” Interested, he cocked his head to the side. “Rodney,” he drawled.
“What. What?” McKay’s voice was distracted, intent on other matters.
Pushing with one toe, Sheppard swung his chair around. McKay sat behind him, head down, fingers arching as they tapped a salsa dance on his datapad.
“McKay-ay,” Sheppard added an extra singsonging lilt.
“What!” McKay glanced up at him, eyes a little red from intense studying. “What?”
Sheppard slowly extended an arm and pointed forward.
McKay’s head snapped upwards and a blue eyed stare fixed on the screen. “What is that?” He stood, almost on autopilot, datapad abandoned on his seat. One step, two steps, three and he stood before the screen, staring.
“Don’t you know?”
“No,” McKay said slowly, little lines spidering at the corners of his eyes as they narrowed in concentration.
“I thought you knew everything.”
“No, who told you that?”
“You did,” Sheppard pointed out.
McKay flashed a lopsided smile. “I can figure out everything. This is new.” He rose up and then down on his toes.
“It’s three parsecs away,” Sheppard supplied.
Still concentrating on the anomaly, McKay’s hands darted over the dash, selecting, refining, tweaking commands and controls. The image resolved, twisted on its axis and the colour scheme shifted.
Sheppard found that he was sitting upright -- as straight as a board -- as colour and contrast filtered to reveal a perfect, opalescent sphere as big as a solar system.
“Whoa,” Sheppard breathed.
“Pretty, isn’t it.” The lopsided grin had not shifted an inch. Light and shade, imitating depth and perception, gave rise to an illusion of reality.
“What is it?” Sheppard breathed.
“I don’t know, yet.” The glee was unmistakable. “A whole new galaxy to explore.”
McKay snatched up his laptop and even as he opened up the screen, he was hooking it up to the puddlejumper consol. Mentally, Sheppard coerced the ‘jumper - give him everything he needs. Obediently, the HUD met McKay’s commands. Data streamed over his laptop. Sheppard did not know when he stood and joined McKay, standing at his shoulder.
Equations: dx'/dt' ≠ dx/dt nor Gab ≠ kTab ~ HA! supercurve?
Helpfully, the HUD overlaid contours of force over the anomaly.
“Look!” McKay pointed. He traced a line of curling energy, highlighted in glowing gold, arching over and around and around. “It’s contained in real space-time. Our universe engulfed and formed a shell around an anomaly.”
“That’s why it’s hard to see, unless you tweak the image?” Sheppard clarified.
“Theoretically. Well, not theoretically -- since it’s there in front of us -- we can only see it because we’re so far away. And we’re not really observing it, we’re registering its impression on space-time. You realise, we could travel right up to the anomaly, but then we’d curve around it and end up on the other side. If we hadn’t seen it from this distance we might never had been aware of it.” McKay grinned again, bouncing on his heels. “I know what this is.”
“Go on then, I know you want to tell.” It wasn’t even necessary to prod. McKay vibrated with eagerness to share.
“There was a blip, a tear, in the space-time continuum, and a fragment of another universe bled into our reality. It’s not a wormhole. It’s not a black hole. It’s a proton -- probably smaller -- of material from elsewhere. And our universe responded, curling layer upon layer upon layer of space-time around it.”
“Like a pearl.”
“What?” McKay glared at him. “No, no, no, okay - well, sort of. Okay, yes, like a pearl.”
Sheppard smirked. He loved it when McKay bit and caved in the space of a heartbeat. McKay huffed angrily, but it was only bluster and fireworks. Sheppard ran his fingers gently over a roller ball on the consol, changing McKay’s chosen filters and the sphere’s colours shifted to obsidian - a black pearl on a velvet cushion.
McKay stopped, he stopped breathing, he stopped bouncing, and stood entranced.
“A pearl,” Sheppard said again. “Rodney’s Pearl.”
McKay glanced at him sideways. “You saw it first.”
“Okay,” Sheppard said easily. “The Sheppard-McKay Pearl.”
“I figured out what it was,” McKay protested. “The McKay-Sheppard Pearl.”
“If I hadn’t found it, you wouldn’t have figured out what it is,” Sheppard pointed out.
“Fine.” Rodney huffed, dropping into the co-pilot’s seat. He couldn’t keep up the air of dissatisfaction; he had revealed something new, something unique. His gaze tracked up to the pearl, starlight reflected in his eyes. The smile on his face was completely unselfconscious.
Sheppard settled in the pilot’s seat beside him. Deliberately, he called up the map function on the pilot’s personal screen and carefully typed in.
Rodney’s Pearl.
Fin.