TEAM SHEPPARD: kiss and tell, "Synaptic Connections"
Title: Synaptic Connections
Author: mandykaysfic
Team: Sheppard
Prompt: kiss and tell
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard, minor m/f OCs
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: non-con along the lines of the Replicator brain probe type, without the Replicators.
Summary: The Council approves of sharing. It enriches their culture. The Council’s paparazzi have a background in science and they work on a whole new level. They make it easy for someone to share everything, including things the individual would rather remain private. It’s easier for them if they don’t ask permission. They didn’t ask John Sheppard’s. Besides, no-one’s meant to find out.
Notes: : Thanks to my betas half_elf_lost and polly_b and a huge thank-you to the mods for their incredible patience.
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'There is only one admirable form of the imagination: the imagination that is so intense that it creates a new reality, that it makes things happen.' Sean O’Faolain
Six months earlier
"Incoming wormhole. It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC!"
Security stood ready as did a medical team, but none were needed as Colonel Sheppard entered the Gateroom alone and under his own steam.
"John!" Elizabeth hurried over and reached his hands. "Are you all right? Where have you been? What happened to you?"
"Sheppard!" Rodney shoved his tablet in the direction of the nearest technician and joined them. "Three days we’ve been searching for you. Three days! Lorne's team is following up a lead, while Teyla and Ronon have gone back to P86-452 to see whether anyone has any new information."
"Three days, huh." Sheppard ran a hand over his jaw, as though confirming the time frame. "I don’t remember anything. I was talking with…Yarren, I think his name was. He was looking to trade…." He shook his head as he tried to remember. "Power sources, yeah, that was it. His people didn’t seem to need medicines or any of the usual things. We shared a drink. I felt tired, then nothing. I woke up propped up against the DHD. Nobody answered my hails, so I dialed home." He yawned widely.
"Come on, it’s off to the Infirmary with you," Dr. Beckett insisted. "You can debrief later."
None of Beckett’s tests revealed anything abnormal. Yarren wasn’t a native of P86-452 and the lead Lorne had followed fizzled out. Nobody else disappeared. By the end of the week, a new crisis drove Sheppard’s missing three days out of everyone’s mind and eventually it was nothing more than a couple of log entries.
~ ~ ~
Are you tired of handfastings?
Do you want something more exciting than a worthiness recital?
Why settle for a simple contract exchange when you can have a Wedding!
The tallest of a trio of young women stopped suddenly, her attention caught by the bright advertisement. The others crashed into her, screaming and giggling as they clutched at one another, trying madly to regain their balance.
"Talie! Watch where you're going. We're never going to get to Ryder's at this rate."
"What's caught your eye this time? We should make her walk on the outside. Do you hear me, Talie? Jennet and I have decided you're not allowed to walk next to the stores."
"Oh," murmured Talie, her gaze fixed on the screen in the window. "That's amazing. I have to have that."
"Have what?" grumbled the third girl as she anxiously patted her hair. The latest style had taken her forever to fix. "I need my tea. They're releasing the new blend today and I'm dying to try it." She sighed when she found she was being ignored and looked to see what had captured her friends' interest. "Oh, my." Marla forgot about tea and elbowed her way between the others to get a better view.
A dark haired girl, wearing a long white dress that trailed on the floor behind her, walked down the center of a room. A handsomely dressed older man supported her arm. Rows of people stood on either side of the aisle, watching the couple's progress. When they reached the end, the older man placed the young woman's hand into the hand of a waiting man and stepped back. The screen switched to a close-up shot of the young couple.
"Just look at what she's wearing." Talie ran her hands over her hips; she was a little curvier than the girl on the screen.
"Forget her. Look at him." Marla stretched out a finger to touch the man's hair. "Should it do that?"
"You're drooling!" teased Jennet. “Basie’s hair could never do that.” She turned to Talie. "Come on. Let's go in. Your contract exchange is soon and you did say you wanted something different. Do you think Zev would go for this?"
Talie groaned. "You know Sharna's pressing for a duplicate of her exchange twenty-five years ago. She got Zev to agree, but he doesn’t realize what she's got in mind. He's stuck on the idea of him, me and no costumes. She copied Alexia’s exchange, which involved exactly thirty-four people, and thinks having the three generations with the same service would be so, so -' She gestured dramatically. When the others stopped laughing, she waved her hand in the direction of the door sensor. "Perhaps her daughter being the first to have a wedding will take her mind off recreating the Naked Glory Offering. Did I mention Alexia is flatly refusing to have a youthening session?"
The man who’d stepped up to welcome the girls covered his ears at Marla’s shriek. He gave a delicate shudder as he pictured a family matriarch, naked and wrinkled. That was incentive enough to sell a wedding package to the girl. He couldn't understand anyone not taking advantage of the youthening sessions that the Council had made available two years ago. His spiel was smooth, considering it was his first delivery and he soon had the three ensconced in the Experience Chamber, living the wedding of Nancy to John Sheppard.
* * *
Zev stifled a yawn. This subject had been a most unlucky choice. Despite his muscular build and interesting body adornments, the man had led a singularly uninteresting life. While Zev was sure a baker was a perfectly respectable occupation in many places, his people had no need for more bread recipes. Unfortunately, the man's closely guarded, most secret recipe proved almost identical to one of their own. The weightlifting competition for which he trained hard had similar enough weight divisions and rules that there was nothing new for the Council to incorporate into their own sporting program. The body adornments had no special significance other than appearance enhancement; there was no ritual to their type or placement, and they were of a most common type. Even the subject’s excitement at his first trip through the Ring of the Ancestors was subdued and his knowledge of the Wraith tucked away in a small portion of his mind designated 'legends'.
This man woke in the morning, exercised, ate, went to work, exercised in the evening, ate and slept. For a change, he trained, competed in oh-so-tedious weightlifting competitions and returned home to sleep alone. There was nothing they could use. And unlike the previous subject, even his sex dreams, or experiences - Markus was unable to determine which - were mere wisps. Nor were there any of the forbidden kind.
"We should return him. We won't find anything of use in two more days," Zev muttered to Glen, whose workstation adjoined his.
"Don’t let Rador hear you say that," responded Glen softly. Conversation was frowned on during Retrieval. There was always the chance something of importance could be missed.
"But don’t you agree it's a waste? We could easily exchange this one for another. You know, this one probably hasn’t even been missed."
"Maybe, but rules are rules. The Council stipulates one Retrieval per quarter."
Zev snorted in frustration, and then hurriedly turned his attention back to his screen when he noticed Rador glaring in their direction. He liked his job in Data Collection and had no desire for reallocation, unless it was to Retrieval where three Selectors had the opportunity to leave Belltranz for worlds beyond. Retrieval was the place to be, to discover the trends for the next quarter in their raw state. It was simply the inefficiencies in the stipulations that irritated Zev. One Retrieval per quarter. Subjects held for exactly three days, no longer in the case of interesting ones and no less for the boring ones. Oh, he understood the reason for the limit; there were too many ways in which the delicate balance of their population could be upset, but this and the last subjects were out of the ordinary. It simply wasn't possible anyone would get through the shields protecting their city. They were fortunate though, at least one Retrieval of every five netted resources for their scientists. One extra day for the last and a second Retrieval to replace this useless one wouldn't have caused problems. The Council would have to select the next quarter's trends from the storage banks unless they could revive the interest in weightlifting.
On the main viewing screen the man hefted an impossible weight into the air as the sound of cheering filled the air and then the man modestly accepted a trophy. Zev grinned and shook his head as Markus confirmed it was a dream. The Council would definitely need the storage banks. He hoped the hoverboards would be chosen. He was certain he could remember the tricks he'd learned so long ago. He'd been nine when they'd been replaced after two quarters. He and his friends had even sent a letter to the Council, begging for one more quarter. Of course nothing swayed the Council and the hoverboards had remained in storage ever since. Zev tried to remember what the Council had released in its place but came up blank. The colored lenses had definitely been released twice, as had skin art and wheelieboots, albeit in slightly different formats and with different rules.
On the third day of the Retrieval, Zev took his seat next to Glen. After a quick look around the room to make sure Rador was occupied, he leant over.
"What are we going to do for the next quarter? There's barely enough to keep one each of Dream and Reality busy with Analysis."
Before Glen had a chance to offer his opinion, Rador called for attention.
"The Council has agreed to the opening of the storage banks. As you know, Dunsten and Felice would make the selection from which the Council would decide the next quarter's trends, however Dunsten reaches his service end in ten days and the Council has decided to break with tradition just this once. I am to announce the trainee Selector today and this person will accompany Felice to the storage banks and begin the task of learning exactly the duties and responsibilities of a Selector. The Selector's job is, of course, in addition to one’s regular duties. We have been fortunate that the storage banks are needed so infrequently."
Zev tuned out as Rador expounded on the storage banks, the importance of making a proper selection for the Council and the qualities they expected in a Selector. His ears pricked up at the mention of the added remuneration a Selector received. His contract exchange with Talie would take place soon and it wouldn't be long before they would have the responsibility of raising two children. Talie was keen for them to conceive their first without using the ReproLab. He thought it would be simpler to get things out of the way and have the ReproLab simply fertilize and implant twins. Perhaps she'd change her mind if they ended up having to use the Lab. Financially, the Lab was a better option since the Council had decided it was more efficient for a woman to have one pregnancy rather than two and charged accordingly. He started calculating the drain two pregnancies would take on their finances and completely missed the rest of Rador's speech.
"Zev!"
"What?" Zev rubbed the place on his arm where Glen had jabbed him.
"Rador's waiting," prompted Glen.
Zev flushed and scrambled to his feet. "Er…."
"Is there a problem, Zev?" Rador raised his eyebrows. When Zev shook his head, Rador indicated the door where Felice stood waiting. "Do not make the Council regret their choice," he warned as he waved away Zev"s thanks.
He'd never given much thought to the storage of the subjects' dreams and experiences and for several minutes Zev stood and stared at the long lines of drawers.
Felice laughed. "You never expected this, did you? Look away for a moment. I did exactly the same when Dunsten first brought me here."
Zev had joined with his colleagues in complaining about the seemingly pointless duplication of engrams onto data crystals. The engrams for the hoverboard from his childhood turned out to be catalogued in scientific application, Experience Chamber programs, juvenile pastimes, adult pastimes, competitive sports, manufacturing and several other categories when he mentioned it to Felice. Why wouldn't it simply be found in one drawer labeled 'Hoverboard'?
"First we must consult the file detailing the choices made by the Council for the preceding twenty quarters. It would not do to offer them something too recent. I am assuming you wish the hoverboard listed as 'Division - reality, subset - adult pastime, section - outdoors'?" He grinned at Zev's enthusiastic agreement. "Very well." He touched the screen several times. Together they examined the resulting list.
"See, here is the waterboard from eight and nine quarters ago. We have to consider whether the Council would consider it too similar."
"A hoverboard doesn't need water," argued Zev. "It's different enough from the wheelieboots and the boxcarts as it's not in contact with the ground. It requires quite a bit of skill to get one's balance, more than the boots or the carts."
"I agree. However, it may be something more suitable for the Experience Chamber."
"I'd rather ride the hoverboard for real," said Zev.
"Very well. It shall be one of our selections. So, Reality crystals may be found in these rows. Blue drawers are the adult pastimes and outdoor pursuits are stored on the three lowest shelves. This is the code for the hoverboard crystal. Manufacturing can be found at the end of the second row and trend announcements in the fourth row. Scientific Developments, subset engineering notifications are in the central bank. You'll also need to check for anything that relates to gravity and motion since the hoverboards last appeared as Manufacturing will need to be appraised of any new developments in those fields."
"What do you mean?"
"Supposing the Council decides to approve hoverboards as a suitable recreational pursuit? The people get a trend announcement and then want their boards. Magically, the Supply Store has hoverboards. That's because Manufacturing knew to have them ready. Now do you understand why we need so many crystals?"
"Yes, but why don't we just copy them when they're needed? This all seems so…" Zev trailed off when he saw Felice's expression harden.
"This is the way the Council wants it."
It was always the way the Council wanted, thought Zev as he searched for the crystals. He wondered how long it would take him to become familiar with the layout of the storage room. "Can we choose new things?" he asked when he’d retrieved them from all of the categories Felice said they needed.
"Explain."
"The subject of the last Retrieval. His memories included a…a Farris Wheel? We've had nothing like that I remember. It would make a great Experience, and maybe the real thing for the following quarter."
Felice grinned. "Ferris Wheel. The Council agrees with you. Check out the trend announcements when you get home."
"How do you know?"
"We are responsible for updating the file with their new decisions. I did that while you were collecting the hoverboard crystals. See, here's what the people will be doing this quarter. By the way, aren't you exchanging contracts with Talie soon?"
"Yes."
"Then I suggest you prepare yourself for a Wedding."
Zev thought quickly and came up with a mental image of a girl in white. The bio-readings associated with that memory had included a significant rise in adrenalin levels. He wasn't so sure about the whole procedure, but he imagined Talie in a pretty white dress and decided it wouldn't be too bad. "The Council would have been pleased with the last Retrieval," he said, changing the subject.
"Yes, I believe they are."
"It's a shame we couldn’t have kept him for an extra day."
"You should keep that thought to yourself."
"But don't you agree? The engrams on the Wraith alone…. Do you know whether Markus ever determined if that feeding engram was real or a dream?" Zev shuddered. "It had to be a dream."
"He spent eight full days analyzing it. He even called back Warner, you know. The neurochemistry, neurophysiology, the engram connections themselves all pointed to Reality, but the Council decided they'd made a mistake and ordered all of the subject's engrams associated with that event to be destroyed. They decreed it was not something our people need to know."
"He had quite a few engrams the Council would not approve of," said Zev slowly.
Felice eyed his new work partner and came to a decision. He could tell him now or he suspected he would most likely be telling him next quarter, so now would make life easier for both of them. He liked the young man and sympathized with his beliefs which were not too dissimilar to his own. “If I tell you something, you must swear to keep this to yourself. Don’t tell anyone."
"Talie's okay. She knows not to ask questions about my work here and she doesn't."
"I mean you mustn't even mention this to Glen or anyone else in Retrieval."
Zev stared at Felice. He nodded and held up his hand, palm to Felice. He made a fist and then opened his hand to his own face. "I swear," he said solemnly.
"If I can’t trust one of the Band of Brothers, who can I?" Felice matched the gesture and the men shared a smile. "Blue Section."
"Red," said Zev. "We kept going in secret for two quarters after the Council replaced the Band with Endurance Teams."
"Three," said Felice proudly.
"So, tell me," urged Zev. They could reminisce about the Band of Brothers later.
"Follow me."
In the far corner of the room, Felice pulled open a drawer that proved empty of data crystals, instead containing a featureless black pad. His fingers tapped a complicated rhythm that Zev noted covered various points over the whole pad. When he closed the drawer, an adjacent column of sixteen drawers slid forward. Felice swung them to one side and beckoned Zev to follow him through the gap into a room behind. Dozens of trays holding the flat crystal storage units lined the walls.
"What is this?" Zev could barely take in what he was seeing.
"These are the engrams the Council has ordered destroyed. Many years ago, shortly after we began the Retrievals, there were a few who thought the Council had too much control over what the people were told. Oh, the Council's reasoning sounded logical - change was best made slowly, the behaviors of others were corrupt, the Wraith would discover us and so on. They'd planned our society so carefully and we could not afford the balance of things to become uneven. Where would we be if couples decided not to reproduce? Or had too many children? Or the sexes became skewed because more people wanted boys or girls instead of one of each to replace themselves?
"They direct our scientific discoveries in directions only they determine. Even our very jobs are planned. Gods forbid we should have four tea makers instead of two or ten Experience Chamber technicians instead of twenty. Does nobody care that only eight of our people ever make the journey through the Ring of the Ancestors?" Felice became aware he'd raised his voice and was pounding his fist into his other palm. He shoved his hands into his pockets and after a steadying breath, he continued more calmly. "This room was set up to hold the subjects' memories and dreams the Council deemed too subversive."
"I never thought," stammered Zev. "All I wanted was to keep the interesting ones a little longer. I never thought that so much of what we retrieved never made it to the people. I just wanted my hoverboard back," he finished shamefacedly.
Felice nodded. "That’s what made you made an ideal candidate to work in Retrieval. You didn't think."
"I have thought about some of the things we retrieved. Oh, just to look at again, not to do," Zev added hurriedly as he felt his cheeks redden.
"I'm sure you have," agreed Felice with a knowing laugh. "When we have some time to spare, there's something I know you’ll be interested in, but for now, back to work. We can't spend too much time in here." Zev's headset wouldn't be ready for several days. Yarren wanted an urgent replacement for the latest one he'd lost on the last Retrieval; he said he hadn't finished viewing the last subject's dreams and didn't want to wait for a new one. Teasing Zev with hints of the secret group he would soon belong to would surely prove entertaining. Felice wondered what Zev would choose to scan first. It was usually sex with the new members. Jensen, the chemistry fellow was unusual in that he had never taken out a sex engram, preferring those related to forbidden sciences. His hand hovered over a tray of crystals, but like Yarren, he was still engrossed in the dreams of the last subject. Besides, he didn’t need Zev to see him take a crystal yet. When they were back in the library, he made sure the column of drawers lined up precisely with the others. Carefully obscuring the code from Zev's eyes, he secured the hidden door.
"Not now," he said firmly at Zev's barrage of excited questions, and resolutely continued Zev's instruction in crystal selection.
* * *
Six months later
Lorne's team returned from their mission to P23-5S1. The market had lived up to everything Teyla promised. They'd secured contacts with several new potential trading partners. Seeds with apparently similar properties to cacao filled one of Dr. Parrish's specimen containers; he’d headed straight for the botany labs, calling excitedly for Dr. Kiang and completely forgetting about post-mission protocols.
Lorne handed over a black box the size of a slim paperback to Dr. McKay. "It's Ancient. A key or maybe an almanac, I’m not sure." The crystal inside barely glimmered.
"What about that one?" McKay indicated the second black box in the major's possession.
Lorne shook his head. "Definitely not Ancient. The power source isn't familiar and it's been drained, but it was cheap enough. The merchant needed to raise money in a hurry. His daughter had disappeared three days earlier and the law enforcement there doesn't work for nothing, nor appreciated our assistance." Lorne forestalled McKay’s next question with a shake of his head. "Poor guy, he'd sold practically everything and then she turned up, thankfully unharmed, while we were standing at the next stall. Anyway, if you can't get it going, I thought the crystals might come in handy."
McKay spared a moment to glance over the dozen or so neatly packed crystals, some curved metal prongs and what had to be the power pack. He was about to hand it back when the thought occurred to him it might come in useful for the Science Games some idiot had suggested. The idea had been taken up with alacrity and he'd been overruled on every front. They were scheduled to take place in less than a week after the conclusion of the military's War Games. Initially he'd purposefully neglected making preparations and then he'd legitimately forgotten his role, which was to set the tasks for his department - it was that or let Zelenka come up with the challenges and compete himself. He tucked both boxes under his arm.
"Want me to come and turn that on for you? I've got a spare...," Sheppard, who'd joined them when he'd seen Lorne give the boxes to McKay, conferred silently with the major, "thirty minutes? One hour then," he said after some more facial contortions.
McKay twisted the boxes out of Sheppard's reach. It wouldn't do to have any part of his challenges interfered with in advance. "I've got plans for these," he said as he tightened his grip, "but since you're offering, there is something you can give me a hand with." He turned on his heel and headed for his office without waiting to see whether Sheppard was following or even listening.
Sheppard trailed off after McKay. "An hour," he confirmed over his shoulder.
"Four hours." Rodney waved at the screen of his laptop. "Teams of four, like the Gate teams, members to be from different departments. At least one person with the ATA gene per team. One or two challenges from each department. If there are two challenges, one must be solvable by a gene carrier and one not. What do you think?"
"Jumper maintenance is a challenge? Is that quite fair?" John perched himself on the edge of the desk.
"Timed jumper maintenance. It kills two birds with one stone." Satisfaction colored Rodney's tone. "There's also a challenge to design a useful addition for the jumper."
"I don't know, Rodney."
"Look, the jumpers lack holders for coffee mugs. As far as I'm concerned, that's a much-needed addition, which would be only a few minutes work for someone. What? It could win. Anyway, someone might actually come up with something useful."
"How are you going to judge that?"
"Actually, I'd like you to judge that. Carson's judging the medical bit. It's a first aid thing. Goodness knows there's always someone needing first aid around here. I think he's got plans for everyone to pass their certificate eventually. Elizabeth has selected some files that need translating. Botany's got some sort of competitive transplanting or grafting happening."
"But it's meant to be Science Games, you know, not work."
"It'll be fun," insisted Rodney. "People love a competition. Look, Katie Brown is probably just as capable of using a translation program and putting a bandage on someone as she is planting seeds in a pot. They're not expected to solve a Millennium Problem. Besides, it'll be good for people to stretch themselves. And if they select their teams carefully...you never know, there might be some previously unconsidered people who would be perfect on a Gate team." He warmed to his subject, presenting ideas as though he'd thought about little else for weeks.
John had to agree. For someone who had been so unenthusiastic, Rodney had evidently changed his mind and put some thought into the games. An enthusiastic Rodney was a pleasure to behold, and he edged a little closer. "What have you got cooked up for your challenges?"
"A surprise. I don't want you to find out what they are or what they do. It's up to the competitors to determine their function," Rodney explained as he handed John the boxes. "Just make sure they won't explode or release something toxic." He got up to rummage in cupboard. "Here. These could be broken for all we know, but they're perfect for the competition." He set two cartons on his desk. "These are Ancient. These aren't. Are those safe?"
John hurriedly checked over the boxes as Rodney snapped his fingers. "I don't think either will cause any trouble. An MP3 player, do you think?" He fingered the crystals in the box with the unidentified power source.
Rodney shrugged and took it back. "I'm saving that one for Zelenka. He's looked at everything in this box at least once."
"So he's competing?" The Science Game teams wouldn't be posted until the morning and only Rodney was privy to their composition. Rumors abounded, but nobody had confirmed their participation either way. Chuck would open the book one hour after the announcement.
"I didn't say that, only that I'd save it for him."
"He's competing." John grinned. Rodney's left eyelid had flickered minutely. It wasn't something anyone would notice unless they knew to look for it. John did. "I'll be sure to put my money on his team. He'll have the jumper maintenance in the bag."
"Have you decided whether this is safe?" Rodney steered the conversation back to Lorne's other find.
"It won't blow up. Won't do much of anything." He held it out.
"That's not important. As long as it does something."
"You want to watch something tonight? Someone finally returned my missing original Trek series three. 'Spock's Brain'," he said enticingly. "They should make a version called 'McKay's Brain'. There are plenty of people who'd love to get their hands on your brain."
Rodney snorted. "Your brain would be equally interesting to some." As he'd solved his Science Games problems and nothing else needed his urgent attention, he agreed to come over for a couple of episodes.
"I'd better go and see Lorne." John got up. He'd have time to scrounge up some snacks if he left now.
* * *
Rodney entered the jumper repair time achieved by Dr. Coleman on his tablet. She'd scored the second fastest time so far. He made a note to get Zelenka to rotate her into the maintenance crew if her repairs were up to scratch. Thanks to Dr. Branton he also had a design for his coffee holder. One could always trust an IT specialist to know what was really needed.
Dr. Mackenzie's team was the first to reach the final challenge. As he wasn't a gene carrier, Rodney magnanimously let him choose something to work on. Mackenzie dithered, picking up one piece and then another.
"You're wasting time," remarked Rodney and made a mark against Mackenzie's name as a queue formed behind the scientist who was a competent anthropologist with qualifications in linguistics and archaeology.
"Umm. Er. Umm. This one." Mackenzie reached for the black box.
"Too late," said Rodney, neatly abstracting it from the pile. "This one's yours." He handed him a tangled collection of wires and doodads. "Who's next? Zelenka, you can take this." He handed the box to Zelenka, who nodded and hurried back to his workstation without a word. Eventually each team had something to work on.
The room used for movie screenings was packed. Video feed from the security cameras allowed everyone to see what was going in the labs.
A small group of nurses cheered Myers, who looked like he might be making some sort of headway; he had four cubes connected by wires. One cube changed color, seemingly randomly. Myers scribbled the sequence onto a whiteboard in case it was relevant. Bolton, an engineer who'd successfully had the gene therapy, slotted some crystals into his own collection of cubes and wires. Three narrow beams of red light shone out at right angles to each other. When he changed the position of the crystals, the alignment of the lights altered. It was anyone's guess as to why the Ancients needed someone with the ATA gene to operate a builder's level, which was what it seemed to be, at least until it let out a high-pitched ring and folded in on itself.
"I put a week's pay on Zelenka's team," said Stackhouse to his team, "but look at him. He seems completely lost."
"Perhaps he hasn't got the probes, or whatever they are aligned properly." Dr. Corrigan wasn't competing.
"Looks like a bird cage," said Yamato. "Maybe that's why it's not working. It needs birds."
"No, I believe it's made for a humanoid head," said Corrigan. "I wish Dr. McKay had let Mackenzie keep it. An anthropologist might have been more successful with it." Corrigan stuck up for his colleague.
Cadman shook her head. "That was always going to be for Zelenka. I know for a fact it's one of the few things he hadn't already examined. Lorne brought it back a few days ago and McKay took it away before anyone got a look at it. I put my money on Dr. Kusanagi. She's a dark horse and underestimated by most people."
Stackhouse groaned as he watched Zelenka take the birdcage, as Yamato insisted they call it, off his head and fiddle with it again. "I should have listened to you."
Cadman smirked. "Naturally, and one day you actually will."
Meanwhile, Radek examined the power source once more. He removed several parts and substituted a power pack from one of the tablets. After some judicious tinkering, the small screen that made up most of the back of the power pack lit up. He quickly checked the positions of the wires, selected a crystal at random and fed it into the single slot on the front. The probes fitted neatly around his head. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he took the probes off once more before cautiously pressing the first of several markings that ran down the side.
"Rodney!" he exclaimed softly, when he saw the image on the screen. Playing tricks during a competition was most unfair. He watched the Borg assimilate the Wraith as the Wraith tried unsuccessfully to feed on cybernetic implants. "You would make me look stupid, with that contraption on my head," he muttered and pushed the probes to the side of his workspace. After a minute, he chose another crystal at random; most likely only one contained the puzzle he was really meant to solve, but Radek was a patient man and Rodney would not beat him. Still watching the flickering images, he tried to remove the crystal, but it wouldn't budge. He tugged a little harder. He did not want to waste time watching to the end. It took another minute to work out he needed to stop the crystal playing by pushing the second button.
The second crystal contained scenes from a war. Radek couldn't place the movie from which it had been lifted. Afghanistan most likely, he thought as he surveyed the downed helicopter in the sands. He stopped the playback and laid it aside. The third placed the viewer at the controls of a plane, a fighter plane he thought, as the pilot performed a series of stunts. Even on the small screen, the dizzying changes of scenery from sky to spiraling down toward the ground made him feel a little sick. Rodney must have colluded with Colonel Sheppard to obtain this footage, which meant Radek was missing something.
He reached for the headset. Not so silly looking as paint and feathers, he decided and fitted the probes back into place. Suddenly barely able to breathe, he felt the effects of the g-forces as surely as the pilot. He barely maintained enough presence of mind to rip the probes from his head as he fell forward.
"Radek! Are you all right?" McKay left his seat and hurried over.
Rodney's anxious query penetrated Radek's consciousness and he weakly raised his hand to stall the request for medical assistance. "Fine. I'm fine," he gasped. "Will rest here for a moment." After a few moments he lifted his head enough to stare into Rodney's face. "We will speak. Later. Now go. Let me finish. Go," he repeated when Rodney didn't move. "I'm uninjured," he insisted as he carefully sat up. With his arms crossed over his chest, Radek glared until Rodney nodded and returned to his station.
With the flight simulation crystal placed carefully to one side, his hand hovered over those remaining in the box. He gave a mental shrug and drew out the center one. He hesitated before pressing the button to begin the playback. The most probable explanation for his near collapse was getting feedback from the middle of the experience. If he wore the headset from the beginning, he would be prepared. It was really quite ingenious and he wondered who else had contributed to its construction besides Rodney and the colonel. Someone from the medical department was the obvious answer. He put that train of thought aside and fitted the headset back in place.
It was the pier on Atlantis. He became aware of the wood beneath his buttocks and thighs and his legs felt as though they actually dangled over the edge. Something cold was in his right hand. He felt his arm raise it to his mouth and then there was the taste of beer. Amazing. The probes must stimulate his brain to match the sensations experienced by the one whose viewpoint was displayed on the screen.
Radek felt a sense of peace come over himself and knew he was smiling. He also knew he wasn't alone. He tried looking to the left, but found while he could physically turn his head, the image on the screen and sensations in his body remained as they were. He was simply along for the ride. He felt a gentle bump of a shoulder against his own, then the warmth that suffused his body in response. He felt himself return the bump and wondered if his real body actually moved. When the owner of the body shifted, he - and it was a he - made contact with his companion's thigh and Radek lived the man’s sensations. Radek was relieved to note he remained sitting firmly on his chair. He was even more relieved when he didn’t actually move to take his companion's hand and squeeze it.
Look, he urged silently as he experienced the internal tug-of-war that kept the man's gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. Who, he wondered, but got no further as the man succumbed and turned, and Radek found himself kissing Rodney McKay. Who kissed him back. Rodney kissed the man back. Who turned out to be Colonel Sheppard, as he discovered when Rodney murmured 'John' and Radek felt or heard, he wasn’t exactly sure, the colonel's mumbled answer.
Slowly Radek pulled the probes from his head. He had no wish to follow the program on that crystal to its conclusion. While his position in his chair hadn't essentially changed, the input from the crystal via the probes had affected parts of his body in the same manner he had no doubt the Colonel's had been. He fingered the other crystals as he waited for the flush to cool from his cheeks and the hardness in his groin to dissipate.
Rodney sat to one side, working on some project of his own as he waited for someone to finish or the time to run out. Radek stared at him, wondering why his colleague had chosen to reveal so much and at such a time, and how he had not noticed a single hint as to what was happening. If he announced he had discovered the function of the box and its components, and winning the Games, it would become available to any who wished further study. That would not be in Colonel Sheppard's best interests.
Radek put his thoughts about the relationship between the two and his apparently diminished powers of observation and turned his attention back to the box and its crystals. He was missing something in the equation. He muttered under his breath and picked another crystal, this time choosing the one at right hand end. He pulled off the headset when confronted with Rodney's naked chest and the colonel's hands, but he wasn't fast enough to stop the shared wave of hunger.
The colonel's viewpoint again. Colonel Sheppard must have agreed to wear some sort of recorder that was capable of not only transferring what he was seeing, but also what he was feeling to the crystals. When did Rodney find the recorder and where was it?
He was saved from further speculation when Dr. Kusanagi stood and announced her success. She'd been working on what they'd assumed to be an LSD that stubbornly refused to read anything in the way of life signs. Botany rejoiced when she revealed it diagnosed diseases in plants.
Two minutes later, the computer signaled the time was up. Rodney directed the teams to meet in the Mess. The only all-female team, consisting of Drs Kusanagi, Brown, Biro and Simpson had prevailed by a very narrow margin, winning by a mere three and a half points. Dr. Weir presented them with trophies and some extra time off. Simpson was seconded to the Jumper maintenance team. The cooks provided cake. Cadman collected her winnings. Radek, who'd repacked the box and carefully kept hold of it, asked Rodney to meet with him as soon as possible. Together they went to Rodney's office.
"This was not fair, my friend," he said reprovingly as he handed the box back to Rodney. "You should have said if you didn't want me to compete. I could have helped you set the challenges, and this, you simply could have told me. This way was foolish. What if I did not get to work on it? Is not a problem for me, but others might cause trouble. Was also too personal, Rodney. Did you get the crystals mixed up? The recording device, I would like to see, but tomorrow. For now, I have a headache and I'm going to the Infirmary." He turned abruptly and walked away from Rodney's protests. His head really was pounding, but he went to his quarters where he hoped a quiet drink and some sleep would settle things down.
Rodney stared at Radek's retreating back in confusion. He had no time to investigate the box and its contents now, nor did he know anything about a recording device. He dropped it on top of a pile of journals and went to meet with Elizabeth. She pushed a well-filled tray in his direction and he forgot about it until he was getting ready for bed. His bed called, but his brain was now buzzing with theories as to what Radek had meant and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he examined it for himself.
The probes were easy to configure into the headset arrangement. He took a closer look at the ends, magnifying them four times to begin with and then again and again. The tips wouldn’t actually penetrate the skin; the contact was of an electrochemical nature at the cellular level. Nanoprocessors in set into the structure of the crystal stored the programs. Rodney wished he knew which crystal had caused Radek to collapse. Apart from a series of symbols running along the narrowest edge, each crystal seemed identical.
By chance Rodney chose the same first crystal as Radek. He couldn’t help but grin as Borg took on the Wraith and won. He wondered who was responsible for the programming, as there was no way anyone in the Pegasus galaxy other than Teyla and Ronon would know anything about Locutus of Borg. On closer examination, the Borg proved to be a curious mixture of characters from all the Trek series, including the animated one, and Atlantis personnel. He watched himself assimilate the Wraith Sheppard christened Steve. When Borg Sheppard assimilated Todd, Rodney felt a burst of triumph, then satisfaction ripple through him, followed almost immediately by apprehension as it dawned on someone that cybernetic Borg might not be a good thing. Then the screen went blank.
This was better than smellivision. Emotivision - Rodney could see it now. He picked another crystal and settled himself more comfortably. Moments later he was sitting bolt upright. He rubbed his eyes, but the image didn’t change. It was himself and he was naked. Showering, doing something most people did naked, but that wasn’t the point. He pushed back his chair and raised a hand to remove the headset so he could search the bathroom for a recording device, but he stilled his hand when he felt buttons between his fingers. Material slid over his chest and along his arms. It was incredibly sensual, this slow disrobing. Someone's gaze drifted over Rodney’s body and when his body responded with the arousal the messages sent along the probes that the watcher’s had, he had to close his eyes. Being turned on seeing himself was nothing if not weird.
Also weird was the fact Rodney had no recollection of any such encounter in his shower. He was positive he'd have remembered it; after all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good encounter. As he realized it wasn't his bathroom, he got a little distracted. He'd moved up behind himself to stand under water that was exactly the temperature he liked. He'd taken the soap from himself and started washing his back. Rodney lowered his hand and settled back again. Once he could reconcile the visual input with what his brain was telling him, he'd be a happy man. Being the expert at multi-tasking that he was, it didn't take long.
He relaxed into the massage, convinced the knots in his real shoulders were succumbing, just as the screen Rodney's were. He moaned in concert with his other self, and then almost fell off his chair when a familiar voice murmured his name. The shock made it easy to ignore the feel of soap-slicked skin beneath his hands. His eyes narrowed as he locked his gaze on the hands on the screen. He knew those hands. He also recognized the bathroom. Sheppard's.
The scene played out before his eyes, but Rodney paid it scant attention. The care that Sheppard took as he washed the other Rodney's hair barely registered. Absently he rubbed his thumbs across his fingertips. It was harder to ignore the feelings of pleasure and arousal that fed into his brain. These were Sheppard's feelings. For him. The program Sheppard, he amended hastily. The program Sheppard loved the taste of Rodney's wet skin. When the program Sheppard eventually dropped to his knees, the stretch of his lips and the feel of a cock in his mouth drove Rodney to pull off the headset.
He sat, dazed and confused, not to mention achingly hard. Eventually, when he was sure his feelings were his own, he worked out a plan. He worked his way methodically through the crystals, guessing the experience in the cockpit was what had caused Zelenka's near collapse. By morning he had several neat stacks of crystals, each crystal holding a program that lasted anywhere between fifteen to thirty minutes.
The first stack of two contained the flight simulation and the scenes from the war. Definitely Earth based. Factual. Sheppard's point of view. Snippets of conversation and the sight of Sheppard’s hands had confirmed that. The second stack, also of two crystals and also Earth based, held a Superhero-Wraith war compilation in which the Wraith totally failed to drain Superman’s life force, as well as the Borg vs. Wraith Rodney had already watched. He pondered over the third set of crystals. Who recorded Sheppard’s experience of being fed on by Todd and how did it end up on the crystal? Rodney shuddered; experiencing that was going to give him nightmares for a long time to come and he wondered how Sheppard dealt with it. Two other mission-gone-bad sequences in which the depth of Sheppard’s emotions overwhelmed Rodney joined that one. He really hadn’t realized what went on beneath Sheppard’s façade.
The content of next pair of crystals was different - they involved Pegasus natives. Both featured rituals that were frankly sexual in nature. He watched the first from the sidelines so to speak; whosever point of view this was hadn't participated. The priests or whatever they were entered the chamber through a representation of the Stargate. They stripped off their robes to reveal oiled bodies, than formed a circle around a low altar. One read something from a large book. The mumbo-jumbo recitations were accompanied by grandiose hand gestures and Rodney's groans; even the waves of excitement that fed into his brain couldn't quite conquer his feeling of doom. Sure enough, the priests masturbated over the altar. As the last one gave up his offering to the gods, a glowing ZPM rose up from the center. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed it proved to be a fake.
The other involved a temple ritual of the kind featured in B-grade porn. They might have joked about sexy alien priestesses and the need to participate in orgies for the good of Atlantis, but the second-hand experience didn’t exactly live up to Rodney's expectations. For one thing, it was final crystal and he was physically and mentally wrung out. He almost didn't play it through to the end. As for the other, the emotions were all wrong. Had he played this first, he'd have loved it, he knew. However, he'd viewed it after three other crystals that starred himself and Sheppard. On the pier. On a beach. In a jumper. Then there was the shower scene. And in each of them Sheppard's feelings, not just the physical sensations, were supposedly experienced by the viewer.
Too tired to deal with it now, Rodney carefully repacked the box and stowed it in a drawer. Several times during the next few days, he'd opened the drawer, thoughtfully surveyed the box and then gone back to searching the data base for any information on the ability to record things other than sights and sounds. He questioned Lorne, hoping for more details to the origin of the box, but all Lorne could remember was the merchant hadn't been a native of the planet and he'd gotten the box as part of a trade. He also made his peace with Radek, who was more than happy to keep what he'd seen to himself.
The rest of the time, he tried to act normally around Sheppard. They went on a mission that involved extreme fishing; good for food, not so useful for technology, at least any that interested Rodney. He did spot Sheppard’s eye on him during the communal showers that were taken before the feast, but Sheppard only winked and grinned and pointed to a smear of fish guts that decorated Rodney’s cheek.
Rodney’s questions to his dinner companion, some sort of marine biologist he thought, yielded a details of some big fishing competition they planned to ask the Lanteans to attend and a tale of how their second-best fisherman had gone missing for three days during the last meet, which allowed Findon to take second place.
"I am hoping he’ll disappear again," said Findon. "Here, try this dish, you'll find the seasonings wonderful, I'm sure. I'm gifting him four bottles of my best brew they day before. That should keep him too busy to enter. Hopefully he'll disappear for another three days."
"Three days? I don’t suppose," and Rodney asked whether a black box had been found on or near the fisherman, but Findon claimed to have no idea what Rodney meant. Rodney believed him. These people concentrated on the oceans and waterways on their planet, and most of their technology had developed accordingly.
"You doing anything particular tonight?"
John shook his head. "No. Do you want to come over and watch something? I've got Terminator."
"Ah, sure. Schwarzenegger. Yes. Then I'll see you later."
"Later," he repeated and stared at Rodney’s rapidly disappearing back. Something was up, that much he knew. He considered the contents of his bar fridge and decided to pay a call on Lorne. His XO usually had extra beer stashed away he was willing to share for a price.
Later came after the movie and the single drink Rodney nursed the whole way through. "I don’t suppose you remember when you went missing for three days around a year ago?"
John had to think for a moment. He sent a quizzical look in Rodney’s direction when he placed the reference. "No. I never…. I mean, yes, I remember being told I was missing for three days and no, I don't remember anything because for me, that never happened. Why?" When Rodney failed to answer, a sense of foreboding came over him. "Rodney. Do you know something? Come on, Rodney," he pressed.
"I think, I don't know for sure, but I think you were taken by people who, who took something from you."
"Took something?" He laughed and it only shook a little. "Beckett cleared me. Nothing was missing. Well, only my appendix and that was taken when I was ten. I still have two kidneys and one liver."
"No, no. Nothing physical. I think they stole your dreams."
"What? No! No, that can’t be possible. This isn’t Star Trek."
"Actually, I believe it is." Rodney launched into an explanation as to how he thought it was possible.
John caught phrases here and there; the collapse of the quantum possibility wave, Hebbian learning and something about changes in the brain that took place with every thought and every emotion. It was disconcerting enough to hear Rodney spouting medical jargon without worrying about what someone found in his brain. There were places there nobody needed to go, not to mention the stuff that was personal. Watching the expressions chase over Rodney's face gave him a bad feeling.
"I'm sorry," finished Rodney.
"Let me get this straight. You think that Yazzy or Yarrow, or whatever his name was, back on P86-452, drugged me, carried me off and took some bits of my brain, which he’s now sharing with people over half the galaxy."
"Not bits of your brain. Carson would have noticed that. He, or someone he knows, has found a way to isolate dreams or memories and their associated emotions by the chemical changes they produce in individual brain cells and record them." He rummaged under the jacket he'd left folded up beside him and produced the box. "Here."
John watched Rodney open out the head probes, attach the wires and set up the power pack so the screen was visible. Reflexively he took the folded piece of paper Rodney held out.
"I've numbered the crystals from one to thirteen. This tells what’s on them. I'll um, leave you alone to watch them."
"Rodney…" You're scaring me, John continued silently. Rodney was usually so excited about new technology. In-vul-nerable sang Rodney's voice in his head, followed in quick succession by memories of another dozen similar instances, although a few of them hadn't worked out so well, now he came to think about it, but the initial thrill - that was decidedly lacking for something with such huge implications; catching criminals for one thing as his thoughts went off on a tangent.
"Press that to start. That one for stop. Or you can just pull the probes off. Oh, they don't really stick into your brain. They don't have that type of connection. I'll just go to my quarters. That's where I’ll be if you’d like to, you know, talk. About anything. I want you to know that what's on there…it's okay. More than okay. So. I'll talk to you later."
John crumpled the paper in his hand and shoved it into his pocket as Rodney hurried away. His gut clenched and he forgot all about a whole new field of law reform policies. His hand hovered over the crystals as he debated whether to go ahead and select one without knowing what he'd be in for, but it was practically suicidal to go into a mission unprepared, so he retrieved the paper and smoothed it out.
He blanched when he saw Wraith Feeding followed by the date in brackets. He swore quietly and hoped Rodney was wrong about the viewer experiencing someone's actual memories. Wraith/Borg war puzzled him for a moment, until he realized it had been bracketed with Wraith/superhero and there was an arrow pointing to a notation at the bottom that read 'dreams?' He’d had dreams like that. But then his eye caught sight of Rodney’s name. The final four crystals were simply labeled John and Rodney with a location after each.
"What are you getting now?" he cried to the anonymous alien as a multitude of feelings washed over him. Fear, anger, embarrassment, sadness, hurt, confusion. There was more - much of it indefinable. He crammed the cage of probes onto his head, snatched a crystal at random and shoved it into the device. As Todd sucked the life force from him once more, he tore the headset off and tossed it aside. That was him. His experience. Everything he felt laid bare for anyone to share. Not a fake. There was no way anyone could fake that.
Four more of Lorne's beers remained in his fridge. He downed one and took another out onto his balcony. Wiping the chilled bottle over his head did little to ease the pounding headache he now had. He stared up at the stars and sighed. He'd be willing to bet anyone watching John and Rodney in a jumper wouldn’t be seeing him give a flying lesson. What was worse, they'd know. They may have been fantasies rather than real experiences, but if the emotions that came through were even a quarter of what he felt, there would be no doubt as to how he felt about Rodney McKay. And that meant Rodney knew.
With a feeling close to impending doom, John headed back inside. He needed to find out exactly what was on those crystals. He settled on the beach fantasy. It was a favorite of his. The two of them, a deserted beach, Rodney complaining about radiation and skin cancer and holding out the sunscreen for John to rub on his back.
They were good, whoever they were. He could feel Rodney's skin, just the way he'd imagined. He tasted the sweat and the slightly coconutty flavor of the sunscreen
Rodney promised was non-toxic when his screen self licked the back of Rodney's neck. It was odd feeling Rodney's hands on his face when he turned for a kiss, but even odder seeing his hands, sliding along Rodney’s arms. He sat on his hands when he realized he was duplicating his actions on the screen in real life.
He must have played out this fantasy more than a dozen times, fixing little details until it was perfect. It was here the words 'love you' rolled easily off his lips. No stammer, no stutter, no groping for words that refused to come out as anything other than an awkward 'I...you know'.
"Love you."
"Me too."
"What, love you?"
"Idiot."
They laughed and teased one another between kisses and caresses, until in the shade of a garish orange and yellow sun umbrella they made love. Then the screen went blank and slowly John took the probes from his head.
It took him three days to watch all of the crystals. He felt chagrined, not to mention violated when he thought about his fantasies, his dreams and experiences, his every emotion on show for random strangers to live and he was especially angry with the purveyors. He scanned the reports from the time he'd been missing, cursing when there seemed nothing that hadn't been followed up. He made a mental note to keep an ear out for reports of missing persons who turned up again after a few days.
In the mean time, he ran with Ronon, sparred with Teyla, met with Elizabeth and did the inventories Lorne passed to him in exchange for the beer as he wondered what to do about Rodney. He kept their conversations to impersonal topics and prided himself no-one noticed anything different about him.
Do you want to talk?
John worried his lower lip as he stared at the message from Rodney. He'd put off talking to him long enough. There was no need to see Lorne - he had beer of his own, so he sent a reply. Less than five minutes later, Rodney was at his door. He dumped a couple of beers on the desk.
"This is," but John didn't get any further before Rodney interrupted.
"I'm sorry."
That wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for. He didn't want Rodney to feel sorry for him. "Ah...I'm...."
"No, no! I didn't mean that," said Rodney hurriedly. "I'm sorry for the fact someone invaded your privacy and stole your thoughts. I'm sorry they felt they had the right to share them with all and sundry. I'm sorry I have no idea who did this so we can make sure they don't do it again. But I'm not sorry that I know you love me. I am sorry Zelenka found out before I did -"
"Wait, Rodney. Stop! Zelenka's seen these?"
"Only a couple of them. I don't think you'll ever get him in an F-302. It's all right though. He won't say anything. About you. About us. He promised. Although he did agree that the Borg assimilating the Wraith was a bad idea. "
John groaned. "There is no 'us' for him to say anything about."
"But you'd like there to be."
John turned away.
"What if I'd like there to be an us too?"
"Rodney?" He couldn't help the hopeful note in his voice.
Rodney picked up the black box which lay on the desk. "Right now, what I feel for you isn't this, but I think it could be. We're friends already, close friends already, and seriously, no two people are going to fall in love with each other at exactly the same time. Someone always has to be first. You get to be first in this instance."
"But," and John nodded in the direction of the box, "you know, you know exactly how I feel. I won't know..."
"Oh, please, you'll know. We don't need this. It's nothing but a tool for a bunch of voyeurs." It landed in the corner where he tossed it. "Although...I wouldn't mind seeing Superman vs. the Wraith again some time. So, you wanna go sit on the pier?"
~ ~ ~
Epilogue:
It took almost six more quarters for Felice, Yarren, Zev and the others to overthrow the Council. It was not a popular move with the majority. The people cried out for their Experience Chambers and their carefully planned existence. The Council took back their power and exiled the dissidents, who spent their lives searching for the new Retrieval Team and thwarting them whenever possible. Talie refused to leave with Zev, preferring to bring their children up in safety and in the manner she'd always known. He left, vowing to come back for them one day.
THE END
Poll
Author: mandykaysfic
Team: Sheppard
Prompt: kiss and tell
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard, minor m/f OCs
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: non-con along the lines of the Replicator brain probe type, without the Replicators.
Summary: The Council approves of sharing. It enriches their culture. The Council’s paparazzi have a background in science and they work on a whole new level. They make it easy for someone to share everything, including things the individual would rather remain private. It’s easier for them if they don’t ask permission. They didn’t ask John Sheppard’s. Besides, no-one’s meant to find out.
Notes: : Thanks to my betas half_elf_lost and polly_b and a huge thank-you to the mods for their incredible patience.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
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'There is only one admirable form of the imagination: the imagination that is so intense that it creates a new reality, that it makes things happen.' Sean O’Faolain
Six months earlier
"Incoming wormhole. It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC!"
Security stood ready as did a medical team, but none were needed as Colonel Sheppard entered the Gateroom alone and under his own steam.
"John!" Elizabeth hurried over and reached his hands. "Are you all right? Where have you been? What happened to you?"
"Sheppard!" Rodney shoved his tablet in the direction of the nearest technician and joined them. "Three days we’ve been searching for you. Three days! Lorne's team is following up a lead, while Teyla and Ronon have gone back to P86-452 to see whether anyone has any new information."
"Three days, huh." Sheppard ran a hand over his jaw, as though confirming the time frame. "I don’t remember anything. I was talking with…Yarren, I think his name was. He was looking to trade…." He shook his head as he tried to remember. "Power sources, yeah, that was it. His people didn’t seem to need medicines or any of the usual things. We shared a drink. I felt tired, then nothing. I woke up propped up against the DHD. Nobody answered my hails, so I dialed home." He yawned widely.
"Come on, it’s off to the Infirmary with you," Dr. Beckett insisted. "You can debrief later."
None of Beckett’s tests revealed anything abnormal. Yarren wasn’t a native of P86-452 and the lead Lorne had followed fizzled out. Nobody else disappeared. By the end of the week, a new crisis drove Sheppard’s missing three days out of everyone’s mind and eventually it was nothing more than a couple of log entries.
~ ~ ~
Are you tired of handfastings?
Do you want something more exciting than a worthiness recital?
Why settle for a simple contract exchange when you can have a Wedding!
The tallest of a trio of young women stopped suddenly, her attention caught by the bright advertisement. The others crashed into her, screaming and giggling as they clutched at one another, trying madly to regain their balance.
"Talie! Watch where you're going. We're never going to get to Ryder's at this rate."
"What's caught your eye this time? We should make her walk on the outside. Do you hear me, Talie? Jennet and I have decided you're not allowed to walk next to the stores."
"Oh," murmured Talie, her gaze fixed on the screen in the window. "That's amazing. I have to have that."
"Have what?" grumbled the third girl as she anxiously patted her hair. The latest style had taken her forever to fix. "I need my tea. They're releasing the new blend today and I'm dying to try it." She sighed when she found she was being ignored and looked to see what had captured her friends' interest. "Oh, my." Marla forgot about tea and elbowed her way between the others to get a better view.
A dark haired girl, wearing a long white dress that trailed on the floor behind her, walked down the center of a room. A handsomely dressed older man supported her arm. Rows of people stood on either side of the aisle, watching the couple's progress. When they reached the end, the older man placed the young woman's hand into the hand of a waiting man and stepped back. The screen switched to a close-up shot of the young couple.
"Just look at what she's wearing." Talie ran her hands over her hips; she was a little curvier than the girl on the screen.
"Forget her. Look at him." Marla stretched out a finger to touch the man's hair. "Should it do that?"
"You're drooling!" teased Jennet. “Basie’s hair could never do that.” She turned to Talie. "Come on. Let's go in. Your contract exchange is soon and you did say you wanted something different. Do you think Zev would go for this?"
Talie groaned. "You know Sharna's pressing for a duplicate of her exchange twenty-five years ago. She got Zev to agree, but he doesn’t realize what she's got in mind. He's stuck on the idea of him, me and no costumes. She copied Alexia’s exchange, which involved exactly thirty-four people, and thinks having the three generations with the same service would be so, so -' She gestured dramatically. When the others stopped laughing, she waved her hand in the direction of the door sensor. "Perhaps her daughter being the first to have a wedding will take her mind off recreating the Naked Glory Offering. Did I mention Alexia is flatly refusing to have a youthening session?"
The man who’d stepped up to welcome the girls covered his ears at Marla’s shriek. He gave a delicate shudder as he pictured a family matriarch, naked and wrinkled. That was incentive enough to sell a wedding package to the girl. He couldn't understand anyone not taking advantage of the youthening sessions that the Council had made available two years ago. His spiel was smooth, considering it was his first delivery and he soon had the three ensconced in the Experience Chamber, living the wedding of Nancy to John Sheppard.
* * *
Zev stifled a yawn. This subject had been a most unlucky choice. Despite his muscular build and interesting body adornments, the man had led a singularly uninteresting life. While Zev was sure a baker was a perfectly respectable occupation in many places, his people had no need for more bread recipes. Unfortunately, the man's closely guarded, most secret recipe proved almost identical to one of their own. The weightlifting competition for which he trained hard had similar enough weight divisions and rules that there was nothing new for the Council to incorporate into their own sporting program. The body adornments had no special significance other than appearance enhancement; there was no ritual to their type or placement, and they were of a most common type. Even the subject’s excitement at his first trip through the Ring of the Ancestors was subdued and his knowledge of the Wraith tucked away in a small portion of his mind designated 'legends'.
This man woke in the morning, exercised, ate, went to work, exercised in the evening, ate and slept. For a change, he trained, competed in oh-so-tedious weightlifting competitions and returned home to sleep alone. There was nothing they could use. And unlike the previous subject, even his sex dreams, or experiences - Markus was unable to determine which - were mere wisps. Nor were there any of the forbidden kind.
"We should return him. We won't find anything of use in two more days," Zev muttered to Glen, whose workstation adjoined his.
"Don’t let Rador hear you say that," responded Glen softly. Conversation was frowned on during Retrieval. There was always the chance something of importance could be missed.
"But don’t you agree it's a waste? We could easily exchange this one for another. You know, this one probably hasn’t even been missed."
"Maybe, but rules are rules. The Council stipulates one Retrieval per quarter."
Zev snorted in frustration, and then hurriedly turned his attention back to his screen when he noticed Rador glaring in their direction. He liked his job in Data Collection and had no desire for reallocation, unless it was to Retrieval where three Selectors had the opportunity to leave Belltranz for worlds beyond. Retrieval was the place to be, to discover the trends for the next quarter in their raw state. It was simply the inefficiencies in the stipulations that irritated Zev. One Retrieval per quarter. Subjects held for exactly three days, no longer in the case of interesting ones and no less for the boring ones. Oh, he understood the reason for the limit; there were too many ways in which the delicate balance of their population could be upset, but this and the last subjects were out of the ordinary. It simply wasn't possible anyone would get through the shields protecting their city. They were fortunate though, at least one Retrieval of every five netted resources for their scientists. One extra day for the last and a second Retrieval to replace this useless one wouldn't have caused problems. The Council would have to select the next quarter's trends from the storage banks unless they could revive the interest in weightlifting.
On the main viewing screen the man hefted an impossible weight into the air as the sound of cheering filled the air and then the man modestly accepted a trophy. Zev grinned and shook his head as Markus confirmed it was a dream. The Council would definitely need the storage banks. He hoped the hoverboards would be chosen. He was certain he could remember the tricks he'd learned so long ago. He'd been nine when they'd been replaced after two quarters. He and his friends had even sent a letter to the Council, begging for one more quarter. Of course nothing swayed the Council and the hoverboards had remained in storage ever since. Zev tried to remember what the Council had released in its place but came up blank. The colored lenses had definitely been released twice, as had skin art and wheelieboots, albeit in slightly different formats and with different rules.
On the third day of the Retrieval, Zev took his seat next to Glen. After a quick look around the room to make sure Rador was occupied, he leant over.
"What are we going to do for the next quarter? There's barely enough to keep one each of Dream and Reality busy with Analysis."
Before Glen had a chance to offer his opinion, Rador called for attention.
"The Council has agreed to the opening of the storage banks. As you know, Dunsten and Felice would make the selection from which the Council would decide the next quarter's trends, however Dunsten reaches his service end in ten days and the Council has decided to break with tradition just this once. I am to announce the trainee Selector today and this person will accompany Felice to the storage banks and begin the task of learning exactly the duties and responsibilities of a Selector. The Selector's job is, of course, in addition to one’s regular duties. We have been fortunate that the storage banks are needed so infrequently."
Zev tuned out as Rador expounded on the storage banks, the importance of making a proper selection for the Council and the qualities they expected in a Selector. His ears pricked up at the mention of the added remuneration a Selector received. His contract exchange with Talie would take place soon and it wouldn't be long before they would have the responsibility of raising two children. Talie was keen for them to conceive their first without using the ReproLab. He thought it would be simpler to get things out of the way and have the ReproLab simply fertilize and implant twins. Perhaps she'd change her mind if they ended up having to use the Lab. Financially, the Lab was a better option since the Council had decided it was more efficient for a woman to have one pregnancy rather than two and charged accordingly. He started calculating the drain two pregnancies would take on their finances and completely missed the rest of Rador's speech.
"Zev!"
"What?" Zev rubbed the place on his arm where Glen had jabbed him.
"Rador's waiting," prompted Glen.
Zev flushed and scrambled to his feet. "Er…."
"Is there a problem, Zev?" Rador raised his eyebrows. When Zev shook his head, Rador indicated the door where Felice stood waiting. "Do not make the Council regret their choice," he warned as he waved away Zev"s thanks.
He'd never given much thought to the storage of the subjects' dreams and experiences and for several minutes Zev stood and stared at the long lines of drawers.
Felice laughed. "You never expected this, did you? Look away for a moment. I did exactly the same when Dunsten first brought me here."
Zev had joined with his colleagues in complaining about the seemingly pointless duplication of engrams onto data crystals. The engrams for the hoverboard from his childhood turned out to be catalogued in scientific application, Experience Chamber programs, juvenile pastimes, adult pastimes, competitive sports, manufacturing and several other categories when he mentioned it to Felice. Why wouldn't it simply be found in one drawer labeled 'Hoverboard'?
"First we must consult the file detailing the choices made by the Council for the preceding twenty quarters. It would not do to offer them something too recent. I am assuming you wish the hoverboard listed as 'Division - reality, subset - adult pastime, section - outdoors'?" He grinned at Zev's enthusiastic agreement. "Very well." He touched the screen several times. Together they examined the resulting list.
"See, here is the waterboard from eight and nine quarters ago. We have to consider whether the Council would consider it too similar."
"A hoverboard doesn't need water," argued Zev. "It's different enough from the wheelieboots and the boxcarts as it's not in contact with the ground. It requires quite a bit of skill to get one's balance, more than the boots or the carts."
"I agree. However, it may be something more suitable for the Experience Chamber."
"I'd rather ride the hoverboard for real," said Zev.
"Very well. It shall be one of our selections. So, Reality crystals may be found in these rows. Blue drawers are the adult pastimes and outdoor pursuits are stored on the three lowest shelves. This is the code for the hoverboard crystal. Manufacturing can be found at the end of the second row and trend announcements in the fourth row. Scientific Developments, subset engineering notifications are in the central bank. You'll also need to check for anything that relates to gravity and motion since the hoverboards last appeared as Manufacturing will need to be appraised of any new developments in those fields."
"What do you mean?"
"Supposing the Council decides to approve hoverboards as a suitable recreational pursuit? The people get a trend announcement and then want their boards. Magically, the Supply Store has hoverboards. That's because Manufacturing knew to have them ready. Now do you understand why we need so many crystals?"
"Yes, but why don't we just copy them when they're needed? This all seems so…" Zev trailed off when he saw Felice's expression harden.
"This is the way the Council wants it."
It was always the way the Council wanted, thought Zev as he searched for the crystals. He wondered how long it would take him to become familiar with the layout of the storage room. "Can we choose new things?" he asked when he’d retrieved them from all of the categories Felice said they needed.
"Explain."
"The subject of the last Retrieval. His memories included a…a Farris Wheel? We've had nothing like that I remember. It would make a great Experience, and maybe the real thing for the following quarter."
Felice grinned. "Ferris Wheel. The Council agrees with you. Check out the trend announcements when you get home."
"How do you know?"
"We are responsible for updating the file with their new decisions. I did that while you were collecting the hoverboard crystals. See, here's what the people will be doing this quarter. By the way, aren't you exchanging contracts with Talie soon?"
"Yes."
"Then I suggest you prepare yourself for a Wedding."
Zev thought quickly and came up with a mental image of a girl in white. The bio-readings associated with that memory had included a significant rise in adrenalin levels. He wasn't so sure about the whole procedure, but he imagined Talie in a pretty white dress and decided it wouldn't be too bad. "The Council would have been pleased with the last Retrieval," he said, changing the subject.
"Yes, I believe they are."
"It's a shame we couldn’t have kept him for an extra day."
"You should keep that thought to yourself."
"But don't you agree? The engrams on the Wraith alone…. Do you know whether Markus ever determined if that feeding engram was real or a dream?" Zev shuddered. "It had to be a dream."
"He spent eight full days analyzing it. He even called back Warner, you know. The neurochemistry, neurophysiology, the engram connections themselves all pointed to Reality, but the Council decided they'd made a mistake and ordered all of the subject's engrams associated with that event to be destroyed. They decreed it was not something our people need to know."
"He had quite a few engrams the Council would not approve of," said Zev slowly.
Felice eyed his new work partner and came to a decision. He could tell him now or he suspected he would most likely be telling him next quarter, so now would make life easier for both of them. He liked the young man and sympathized with his beliefs which were not too dissimilar to his own. “If I tell you something, you must swear to keep this to yourself. Don’t tell anyone."
"Talie's okay. She knows not to ask questions about my work here and she doesn't."
"I mean you mustn't even mention this to Glen or anyone else in Retrieval."
Zev stared at Felice. He nodded and held up his hand, palm to Felice. He made a fist and then opened his hand to his own face. "I swear," he said solemnly.
"If I can’t trust one of the Band of Brothers, who can I?" Felice matched the gesture and the men shared a smile. "Blue Section."
"Red," said Zev. "We kept going in secret for two quarters after the Council replaced the Band with Endurance Teams."
"Three," said Felice proudly.
"So, tell me," urged Zev. They could reminisce about the Band of Brothers later.
"Follow me."
In the far corner of the room, Felice pulled open a drawer that proved empty of data crystals, instead containing a featureless black pad. His fingers tapped a complicated rhythm that Zev noted covered various points over the whole pad. When he closed the drawer, an adjacent column of sixteen drawers slid forward. Felice swung them to one side and beckoned Zev to follow him through the gap into a room behind. Dozens of trays holding the flat crystal storage units lined the walls.
"What is this?" Zev could barely take in what he was seeing.
"These are the engrams the Council has ordered destroyed. Many years ago, shortly after we began the Retrievals, there were a few who thought the Council had too much control over what the people were told. Oh, the Council's reasoning sounded logical - change was best made slowly, the behaviors of others were corrupt, the Wraith would discover us and so on. They'd planned our society so carefully and we could not afford the balance of things to become uneven. Where would we be if couples decided not to reproduce? Or had too many children? Or the sexes became skewed because more people wanted boys or girls instead of one of each to replace themselves?
"They direct our scientific discoveries in directions only they determine. Even our very jobs are planned. Gods forbid we should have four tea makers instead of two or ten Experience Chamber technicians instead of twenty. Does nobody care that only eight of our people ever make the journey through the Ring of the Ancestors?" Felice became aware he'd raised his voice and was pounding his fist into his other palm. He shoved his hands into his pockets and after a steadying breath, he continued more calmly. "This room was set up to hold the subjects' memories and dreams the Council deemed too subversive."
"I never thought," stammered Zev. "All I wanted was to keep the interesting ones a little longer. I never thought that so much of what we retrieved never made it to the people. I just wanted my hoverboard back," he finished shamefacedly.
Felice nodded. "That’s what made you made an ideal candidate to work in Retrieval. You didn't think."
"I have thought about some of the things we retrieved. Oh, just to look at again, not to do," Zev added hurriedly as he felt his cheeks redden.
"I'm sure you have," agreed Felice with a knowing laugh. "When we have some time to spare, there's something I know you’ll be interested in, but for now, back to work. We can't spend too much time in here." Zev's headset wouldn't be ready for several days. Yarren wanted an urgent replacement for the latest one he'd lost on the last Retrieval; he said he hadn't finished viewing the last subject's dreams and didn't want to wait for a new one. Teasing Zev with hints of the secret group he would soon belong to would surely prove entertaining. Felice wondered what Zev would choose to scan first. It was usually sex with the new members. Jensen, the chemistry fellow was unusual in that he had never taken out a sex engram, preferring those related to forbidden sciences. His hand hovered over a tray of crystals, but like Yarren, he was still engrossed in the dreams of the last subject. Besides, he didn’t need Zev to see him take a crystal yet. When they were back in the library, he made sure the column of drawers lined up precisely with the others. Carefully obscuring the code from Zev's eyes, he secured the hidden door.
"Not now," he said firmly at Zev's barrage of excited questions, and resolutely continued Zev's instruction in crystal selection.
* * *
Six months later
Lorne's team returned from their mission to P23-5S1. The market had lived up to everything Teyla promised. They'd secured contacts with several new potential trading partners. Seeds with apparently similar properties to cacao filled one of Dr. Parrish's specimen containers; he’d headed straight for the botany labs, calling excitedly for Dr. Kiang and completely forgetting about post-mission protocols.
Lorne handed over a black box the size of a slim paperback to Dr. McKay. "It's Ancient. A key or maybe an almanac, I’m not sure." The crystal inside barely glimmered.
"What about that one?" McKay indicated the second black box in the major's possession.
Lorne shook his head. "Definitely not Ancient. The power source isn't familiar and it's been drained, but it was cheap enough. The merchant needed to raise money in a hurry. His daughter had disappeared three days earlier and the law enforcement there doesn't work for nothing, nor appreciated our assistance." Lorne forestalled McKay’s next question with a shake of his head. "Poor guy, he'd sold practically everything and then she turned up, thankfully unharmed, while we were standing at the next stall. Anyway, if you can't get it going, I thought the crystals might come in handy."
McKay spared a moment to glance over the dozen or so neatly packed crystals, some curved metal prongs and what had to be the power pack. He was about to hand it back when the thought occurred to him it might come in useful for the Science Games some idiot had suggested. The idea had been taken up with alacrity and he'd been overruled on every front. They were scheduled to take place in less than a week after the conclusion of the military's War Games. Initially he'd purposefully neglected making preparations and then he'd legitimately forgotten his role, which was to set the tasks for his department - it was that or let Zelenka come up with the challenges and compete himself. He tucked both boxes under his arm.
"Want me to come and turn that on for you? I've got a spare...," Sheppard, who'd joined them when he'd seen Lorne give the boxes to McKay, conferred silently with the major, "thirty minutes? One hour then," he said after some more facial contortions.
McKay twisted the boxes out of Sheppard's reach. It wouldn't do to have any part of his challenges interfered with in advance. "I've got plans for these," he said as he tightened his grip, "but since you're offering, there is something you can give me a hand with." He turned on his heel and headed for his office without waiting to see whether Sheppard was following or even listening.
Sheppard trailed off after McKay. "An hour," he confirmed over his shoulder.
"Four hours." Rodney waved at the screen of his laptop. "Teams of four, like the Gate teams, members to be from different departments. At least one person with the ATA gene per team. One or two challenges from each department. If there are two challenges, one must be solvable by a gene carrier and one not. What do you think?"
"Jumper maintenance is a challenge? Is that quite fair?" John perched himself on the edge of the desk.
"Timed jumper maintenance. It kills two birds with one stone." Satisfaction colored Rodney's tone. "There's also a challenge to design a useful addition for the jumper."
"I don't know, Rodney."
"Look, the jumpers lack holders for coffee mugs. As far as I'm concerned, that's a much-needed addition, which would be only a few minutes work for someone. What? It could win. Anyway, someone might actually come up with something useful."
"How are you going to judge that?"
"Actually, I'd like you to judge that. Carson's judging the medical bit. It's a first aid thing. Goodness knows there's always someone needing first aid around here. I think he's got plans for everyone to pass their certificate eventually. Elizabeth has selected some files that need translating. Botany's got some sort of competitive transplanting or grafting happening."
"But it's meant to be Science Games, you know, not work."
"It'll be fun," insisted Rodney. "People love a competition. Look, Katie Brown is probably just as capable of using a translation program and putting a bandage on someone as she is planting seeds in a pot. They're not expected to solve a Millennium Problem. Besides, it'll be good for people to stretch themselves. And if they select their teams carefully...you never know, there might be some previously unconsidered people who would be perfect on a Gate team." He warmed to his subject, presenting ideas as though he'd thought about little else for weeks.
John had to agree. For someone who had been so unenthusiastic, Rodney had evidently changed his mind and put some thought into the games. An enthusiastic Rodney was a pleasure to behold, and he edged a little closer. "What have you got cooked up for your challenges?"
"A surprise. I don't want you to find out what they are or what they do. It's up to the competitors to determine their function," Rodney explained as he handed John the boxes. "Just make sure they won't explode or release something toxic." He got up to rummage in cupboard. "Here. These could be broken for all we know, but they're perfect for the competition." He set two cartons on his desk. "These are Ancient. These aren't. Are those safe?"
John hurriedly checked over the boxes as Rodney snapped his fingers. "I don't think either will cause any trouble. An MP3 player, do you think?" He fingered the crystals in the box with the unidentified power source.
Rodney shrugged and took it back. "I'm saving that one for Zelenka. He's looked at everything in this box at least once."
"So he's competing?" The Science Game teams wouldn't be posted until the morning and only Rodney was privy to their composition. Rumors abounded, but nobody had confirmed their participation either way. Chuck would open the book one hour after the announcement.
"I didn't say that, only that I'd save it for him."
"He's competing." John grinned. Rodney's left eyelid had flickered minutely. It wasn't something anyone would notice unless they knew to look for it. John did. "I'll be sure to put my money on his team. He'll have the jumper maintenance in the bag."
"Have you decided whether this is safe?" Rodney steered the conversation back to Lorne's other find.
"It won't blow up. Won't do much of anything." He held it out.
"That's not important. As long as it does something."
"You want to watch something tonight? Someone finally returned my missing original Trek series three. 'Spock's Brain'," he said enticingly. "They should make a version called 'McKay's Brain'. There are plenty of people who'd love to get their hands on your brain."
Rodney snorted. "Your brain would be equally interesting to some." As he'd solved his Science Games problems and nothing else needed his urgent attention, he agreed to come over for a couple of episodes.
"I'd better go and see Lorne." John got up. He'd have time to scrounge up some snacks if he left now.
* * *
Rodney entered the jumper repair time achieved by Dr. Coleman on his tablet. She'd scored the second fastest time so far. He made a note to get Zelenka to rotate her into the maintenance crew if her repairs were up to scratch. Thanks to Dr. Branton he also had a design for his coffee holder. One could always trust an IT specialist to know what was really needed.
Dr. Mackenzie's team was the first to reach the final challenge. As he wasn't a gene carrier, Rodney magnanimously let him choose something to work on. Mackenzie dithered, picking up one piece and then another.
"You're wasting time," remarked Rodney and made a mark against Mackenzie's name as a queue formed behind the scientist who was a competent anthropologist with qualifications in linguistics and archaeology.
"Umm. Er. Umm. This one." Mackenzie reached for the black box.
"Too late," said Rodney, neatly abstracting it from the pile. "This one's yours." He handed him a tangled collection of wires and doodads. "Who's next? Zelenka, you can take this." He handed the box to Zelenka, who nodded and hurried back to his workstation without a word. Eventually each team had something to work on.
The room used for movie screenings was packed. Video feed from the security cameras allowed everyone to see what was going in the labs.
A small group of nurses cheered Myers, who looked like he might be making some sort of headway; he had four cubes connected by wires. One cube changed color, seemingly randomly. Myers scribbled the sequence onto a whiteboard in case it was relevant. Bolton, an engineer who'd successfully had the gene therapy, slotted some crystals into his own collection of cubes and wires. Three narrow beams of red light shone out at right angles to each other. When he changed the position of the crystals, the alignment of the lights altered. It was anyone's guess as to why the Ancients needed someone with the ATA gene to operate a builder's level, which was what it seemed to be, at least until it let out a high-pitched ring and folded in on itself.
"I put a week's pay on Zelenka's team," said Stackhouse to his team, "but look at him. He seems completely lost."
"Perhaps he hasn't got the probes, or whatever they are aligned properly." Dr. Corrigan wasn't competing.
"Looks like a bird cage," said Yamato. "Maybe that's why it's not working. It needs birds."
"No, I believe it's made for a humanoid head," said Corrigan. "I wish Dr. McKay had let Mackenzie keep it. An anthropologist might have been more successful with it." Corrigan stuck up for his colleague.
Cadman shook her head. "That was always going to be for Zelenka. I know for a fact it's one of the few things he hadn't already examined. Lorne brought it back a few days ago and McKay took it away before anyone got a look at it. I put my money on Dr. Kusanagi. She's a dark horse and underestimated by most people."
Stackhouse groaned as he watched Zelenka take the birdcage, as Yamato insisted they call it, off his head and fiddle with it again. "I should have listened to you."
Cadman smirked. "Naturally, and one day you actually will."
Meanwhile, Radek examined the power source once more. He removed several parts and substituted a power pack from one of the tablets. After some judicious tinkering, the small screen that made up most of the back of the power pack lit up. He quickly checked the positions of the wires, selected a crystal at random and fed it into the single slot on the front. The probes fitted neatly around his head. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he took the probes off once more before cautiously pressing the first of several markings that ran down the side.
"Rodney!" he exclaimed softly, when he saw the image on the screen. Playing tricks during a competition was most unfair. He watched the Borg assimilate the Wraith as the Wraith tried unsuccessfully to feed on cybernetic implants. "You would make me look stupid, with that contraption on my head," he muttered and pushed the probes to the side of his workspace. After a minute, he chose another crystal at random; most likely only one contained the puzzle he was really meant to solve, but Radek was a patient man and Rodney would not beat him. Still watching the flickering images, he tried to remove the crystal, but it wouldn't budge. He tugged a little harder. He did not want to waste time watching to the end. It took another minute to work out he needed to stop the crystal playing by pushing the second button.
The second crystal contained scenes from a war. Radek couldn't place the movie from which it had been lifted. Afghanistan most likely, he thought as he surveyed the downed helicopter in the sands. He stopped the playback and laid it aside. The third placed the viewer at the controls of a plane, a fighter plane he thought, as the pilot performed a series of stunts. Even on the small screen, the dizzying changes of scenery from sky to spiraling down toward the ground made him feel a little sick. Rodney must have colluded with Colonel Sheppard to obtain this footage, which meant Radek was missing something.
He reached for the headset. Not so silly looking as paint and feathers, he decided and fitted the probes back into place. Suddenly barely able to breathe, he felt the effects of the g-forces as surely as the pilot. He barely maintained enough presence of mind to rip the probes from his head as he fell forward.
"Radek! Are you all right?" McKay left his seat and hurried over.
Rodney's anxious query penetrated Radek's consciousness and he weakly raised his hand to stall the request for medical assistance. "Fine. I'm fine," he gasped. "Will rest here for a moment." After a few moments he lifted his head enough to stare into Rodney's face. "We will speak. Later. Now go. Let me finish. Go," he repeated when Rodney didn't move. "I'm uninjured," he insisted as he carefully sat up. With his arms crossed over his chest, Radek glared until Rodney nodded and returned to his station.
With the flight simulation crystal placed carefully to one side, his hand hovered over those remaining in the box. He gave a mental shrug and drew out the center one. He hesitated before pressing the button to begin the playback. The most probable explanation for his near collapse was getting feedback from the middle of the experience. If he wore the headset from the beginning, he would be prepared. It was really quite ingenious and he wondered who else had contributed to its construction besides Rodney and the colonel. Someone from the medical department was the obvious answer. He put that train of thought aside and fitted the headset back in place.
It was the pier on Atlantis. He became aware of the wood beneath his buttocks and thighs and his legs felt as though they actually dangled over the edge. Something cold was in his right hand. He felt his arm raise it to his mouth and then there was the taste of beer. Amazing. The probes must stimulate his brain to match the sensations experienced by the one whose viewpoint was displayed on the screen.
Radek felt a sense of peace come over himself and knew he was smiling. He also knew he wasn't alone. He tried looking to the left, but found while he could physically turn his head, the image on the screen and sensations in his body remained as they were. He was simply along for the ride. He felt a gentle bump of a shoulder against his own, then the warmth that suffused his body in response. He felt himself return the bump and wondered if his real body actually moved. When the owner of the body shifted, he - and it was a he - made contact with his companion's thigh and Radek lived the man’s sensations. Radek was relieved to note he remained sitting firmly on his chair. He was even more relieved when he didn’t actually move to take his companion's hand and squeeze it.
Look, he urged silently as he experienced the internal tug-of-war that kept the man's gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. Who, he wondered, but got no further as the man succumbed and turned, and Radek found himself kissing Rodney McKay. Who kissed him back. Rodney kissed the man back. Who turned out to be Colonel Sheppard, as he discovered when Rodney murmured 'John' and Radek felt or heard, he wasn’t exactly sure, the colonel's mumbled answer.
Slowly Radek pulled the probes from his head. He had no wish to follow the program on that crystal to its conclusion. While his position in his chair hadn't essentially changed, the input from the crystal via the probes had affected parts of his body in the same manner he had no doubt the Colonel's had been. He fingered the other crystals as he waited for the flush to cool from his cheeks and the hardness in his groin to dissipate.
Rodney sat to one side, working on some project of his own as he waited for someone to finish or the time to run out. Radek stared at him, wondering why his colleague had chosen to reveal so much and at such a time, and how he had not noticed a single hint as to what was happening. If he announced he had discovered the function of the box and its components, and winning the Games, it would become available to any who wished further study. That would not be in Colonel Sheppard's best interests.
Radek put his thoughts about the relationship between the two and his apparently diminished powers of observation and turned his attention back to the box and its crystals. He was missing something in the equation. He muttered under his breath and picked another crystal, this time choosing the one at right hand end. He pulled off the headset when confronted with Rodney's naked chest and the colonel's hands, but he wasn't fast enough to stop the shared wave of hunger.
The colonel's viewpoint again. Colonel Sheppard must have agreed to wear some sort of recorder that was capable of not only transferring what he was seeing, but also what he was feeling to the crystals. When did Rodney find the recorder and where was it?
He was saved from further speculation when Dr. Kusanagi stood and announced her success. She'd been working on what they'd assumed to be an LSD that stubbornly refused to read anything in the way of life signs. Botany rejoiced when she revealed it diagnosed diseases in plants.
Two minutes later, the computer signaled the time was up. Rodney directed the teams to meet in the Mess. The only all-female team, consisting of Drs Kusanagi, Brown, Biro and Simpson had prevailed by a very narrow margin, winning by a mere three and a half points. Dr. Weir presented them with trophies and some extra time off. Simpson was seconded to the Jumper maintenance team. The cooks provided cake. Cadman collected her winnings. Radek, who'd repacked the box and carefully kept hold of it, asked Rodney to meet with him as soon as possible. Together they went to Rodney's office.
"This was not fair, my friend," he said reprovingly as he handed the box back to Rodney. "You should have said if you didn't want me to compete. I could have helped you set the challenges, and this, you simply could have told me. This way was foolish. What if I did not get to work on it? Is not a problem for me, but others might cause trouble. Was also too personal, Rodney. Did you get the crystals mixed up? The recording device, I would like to see, but tomorrow. For now, I have a headache and I'm going to the Infirmary." He turned abruptly and walked away from Rodney's protests. His head really was pounding, but he went to his quarters where he hoped a quiet drink and some sleep would settle things down.
Rodney stared at Radek's retreating back in confusion. He had no time to investigate the box and its contents now, nor did he know anything about a recording device. He dropped it on top of a pile of journals and went to meet with Elizabeth. She pushed a well-filled tray in his direction and he forgot about it until he was getting ready for bed. His bed called, but his brain was now buzzing with theories as to what Radek had meant and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he examined it for himself.
The probes were easy to configure into the headset arrangement. He took a closer look at the ends, magnifying them four times to begin with and then again and again. The tips wouldn’t actually penetrate the skin; the contact was of an electrochemical nature at the cellular level. Nanoprocessors in set into the structure of the crystal stored the programs. Rodney wished he knew which crystal had caused Radek to collapse. Apart from a series of symbols running along the narrowest edge, each crystal seemed identical.
By chance Rodney chose the same first crystal as Radek. He couldn’t help but grin as Borg took on the Wraith and won. He wondered who was responsible for the programming, as there was no way anyone in the Pegasus galaxy other than Teyla and Ronon would know anything about Locutus of Borg. On closer examination, the Borg proved to be a curious mixture of characters from all the Trek series, including the animated one, and Atlantis personnel. He watched himself assimilate the Wraith Sheppard christened Steve. When Borg Sheppard assimilated Todd, Rodney felt a burst of triumph, then satisfaction ripple through him, followed almost immediately by apprehension as it dawned on someone that cybernetic Borg might not be a good thing. Then the screen went blank.
This was better than smellivision. Emotivision - Rodney could see it now. He picked another crystal and settled himself more comfortably. Moments later he was sitting bolt upright. He rubbed his eyes, but the image didn’t change. It was himself and he was naked. Showering, doing something most people did naked, but that wasn’t the point. He pushed back his chair and raised a hand to remove the headset so he could search the bathroom for a recording device, but he stilled his hand when he felt buttons between his fingers. Material slid over his chest and along his arms. It was incredibly sensual, this slow disrobing. Someone's gaze drifted over Rodney’s body and when his body responded with the arousal the messages sent along the probes that the watcher’s had, he had to close his eyes. Being turned on seeing himself was nothing if not weird.
Also weird was the fact Rodney had no recollection of any such encounter in his shower. He was positive he'd have remembered it; after all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good encounter. As he realized it wasn't his bathroom, he got a little distracted. He'd moved up behind himself to stand under water that was exactly the temperature he liked. He'd taken the soap from himself and started washing his back. Rodney lowered his hand and settled back again. Once he could reconcile the visual input with what his brain was telling him, he'd be a happy man. Being the expert at multi-tasking that he was, it didn't take long.
He relaxed into the massage, convinced the knots in his real shoulders were succumbing, just as the screen Rodney's were. He moaned in concert with his other self, and then almost fell off his chair when a familiar voice murmured his name. The shock made it easy to ignore the feel of soap-slicked skin beneath his hands. His eyes narrowed as he locked his gaze on the hands on the screen. He knew those hands. He also recognized the bathroom. Sheppard's.
The scene played out before his eyes, but Rodney paid it scant attention. The care that Sheppard took as he washed the other Rodney's hair barely registered. Absently he rubbed his thumbs across his fingertips. It was harder to ignore the feelings of pleasure and arousal that fed into his brain. These were Sheppard's feelings. For him. The program Sheppard, he amended hastily. The program Sheppard loved the taste of Rodney's wet skin. When the program Sheppard eventually dropped to his knees, the stretch of his lips and the feel of a cock in his mouth drove Rodney to pull off the headset.
He sat, dazed and confused, not to mention achingly hard. Eventually, when he was sure his feelings were his own, he worked out a plan. He worked his way methodically through the crystals, guessing the experience in the cockpit was what had caused Zelenka's near collapse. By morning he had several neat stacks of crystals, each crystal holding a program that lasted anywhere between fifteen to thirty minutes.
The first stack of two contained the flight simulation and the scenes from the war. Definitely Earth based. Factual. Sheppard's point of view. Snippets of conversation and the sight of Sheppard’s hands had confirmed that. The second stack, also of two crystals and also Earth based, held a Superhero-Wraith war compilation in which the Wraith totally failed to drain Superman’s life force, as well as the Borg vs. Wraith Rodney had already watched. He pondered over the third set of crystals. Who recorded Sheppard’s experience of being fed on by Todd and how did it end up on the crystal? Rodney shuddered; experiencing that was going to give him nightmares for a long time to come and he wondered how Sheppard dealt with it. Two other mission-gone-bad sequences in which the depth of Sheppard’s emotions overwhelmed Rodney joined that one. He really hadn’t realized what went on beneath Sheppard’s façade.
The content of next pair of crystals was different - they involved Pegasus natives. Both featured rituals that were frankly sexual in nature. He watched the first from the sidelines so to speak; whosever point of view this was hadn't participated. The priests or whatever they were entered the chamber through a representation of the Stargate. They stripped off their robes to reveal oiled bodies, than formed a circle around a low altar. One read something from a large book. The mumbo-jumbo recitations were accompanied by grandiose hand gestures and Rodney's groans; even the waves of excitement that fed into his brain couldn't quite conquer his feeling of doom. Sure enough, the priests masturbated over the altar. As the last one gave up his offering to the gods, a glowing ZPM rose up from the center. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed it proved to be a fake.
The other involved a temple ritual of the kind featured in B-grade porn. They might have joked about sexy alien priestesses and the need to participate in orgies for the good of Atlantis, but the second-hand experience didn’t exactly live up to Rodney's expectations. For one thing, it was final crystal and he was physically and mentally wrung out. He almost didn't play it through to the end. As for the other, the emotions were all wrong. Had he played this first, he'd have loved it, he knew. However, he'd viewed it after three other crystals that starred himself and Sheppard. On the pier. On a beach. In a jumper. Then there was the shower scene. And in each of them Sheppard's feelings, not just the physical sensations, were supposedly experienced by the viewer.
Too tired to deal with it now, Rodney carefully repacked the box and stowed it in a drawer. Several times during the next few days, he'd opened the drawer, thoughtfully surveyed the box and then gone back to searching the data base for any information on the ability to record things other than sights and sounds. He questioned Lorne, hoping for more details to the origin of the box, but all Lorne could remember was the merchant hadn't been a native of the planet and he'd gotten the box as part of a trade. He also made his peace with Radek, who was more than happy to keep what he'd seen to himself.
The rest of the time, he tried to act normally around Sheppard. They went on a mission that involved extreme fishing; good for food, not so useful for technology, at least any that interested Rodney. He did spot Sheppard’s eye on him during the communal showers that were taken before the feast, but Sheppard only winked and grinned and pointed to a smear of fish guts that decorated Rodney’s cheek.
Rodney’s questions to his dinner companion, some sort of marine biologist he thought, yielded a details of some big fishing competition they planned to ask the Lanteans to attend and a tale of how their second-best fisherman had gone missing for three days during the last meet, which allowed Findon to take second place.
"I am hoping he’ll disappear again," said Findon. "Here, try this dish, you'll find the seasonings wonderful, I'm sure. I'm gifting him four bottles of my best brew they day before. That should keep him too busy to enter. Hopefully he'll disappear for another three days."
"Three days? I don’t suppose," and Rodney asked whether a black box had been found on or near the fisherman, but Findon claimed to have no idea what Rodney meant. Rodney believed him. These people concentrated on the oceans and waterways on their planet, and most of their technology had developed accordingly.
"You doing anything particular tonight?"
John shook his head. "No. Do you want to come over and watch something? I've got Terminator."
"Ah, sure. Schwarzenegger. Yes. Then I'll see you later."
"Later," he repeated and stared at Rodney’s rapidly disappearing back. Something was up, that much he knew. He considered the contents of his bar fridge and decided to pay a call on Lorne. His XO usually had extra beer stashed away he was willing to share for a price.
Later came after the movie and the single drink Rodney nursed the whole way through. "I don’t suppose you remember when you went missing for three days around a year ago?"
John had to think for a moment. He sent a quizzical look in Rodney’s direction when he placed the reference. "No. I never…. I mean, yes, I remember being told I was missing for three days and no, I don't remember anything because for me, that never happened. Why?" When Rodney failed to answer, a sense of foreboding came over him. "Rodney. Do you know something? Come on, Rodney," he pressed.
"I think, I don't know for sure, but I think you were taken by people who, who took something from you."
"Took something?" He laughed and it only shook a little. "Beckett cleared me. Nothing was missing. Well, only my appendix and that was taken when I was ten. I still have two kidneys and one liver."
"No, no. Nothing physical. I think they stole your dreams."
"What? No! No, that can’t be possible. This isn’t Star Trek."
"Actually, I believe it is." Rodney launched into an explanation as to how he thought it was possible.
John caught phrases here and there; the collapse of the quantum possibility wave, Hebbian learning and something about changes in the brain that took place with every thought and every emotion. It was disconcerting enough to hear Rodney spouting medical jargon without worrying about what someone found in his brain. There were places there nobody needed to go, not to mention the stuff that was personal. Watching the expressions chase over Rodney's face gave him a bad feeling.
"I'm sorry," finished Rodney.
"Let me get this straight. You think that Yazzy or Yarrow, or whatever his name was, back on P86-452, drugged me, carried me off and took some bits of my brain, which he’s now sharing with people over half the galaxy."
"Not bits of your brain. Carson would have noticed that. He, or someone he knows, has found a way to isolate dreams or memories and their associated emotions by the chemical changes they produce in individual brain cells and record them." He rummaged under the jacket he'd left folded up beside him and produced the box. "Here."
John watched Rodney open out the head probes, attach the wires and set up the power pack so the screen was visible. Reflexively he took the folded piece of paper Rodney held out.
"I've numbered the crystals from one to thirteen. This tells what’s on them. I'll um, leave you alone to watch them."
"Rodney…" You're scaring me, John continued silently. Rodney was usually so excited about new technology. In-vul-nerable sang Rodney's voice in his head, followed in quick succession by memories of another dozen similar instances, although a few of them hadn't worked out so well, now he came to think about it, but the initial thrill - that was decidedly lacking for something with such huge implications; catching criminals for one thing as his thoughts went off on a tangent.
"Press that to start. That one for stop. Or you can just pull the probes off. Oh, they don't really stick into your brain. They don't have that type of connection. I'll just go to my quarters. That's where I’ll be if you’d like to, you know, talk. About anything. I want you to know that what's on there…it's okay. More than okay. So. I'll talk to you later."
John crumpled the paper in his hand and shoved it into his pocket as Rodney hurried away. His gut clenched and he forgot all about a whole new field of law reform policies. His hand hovered over the crystals as he debated whether to go ahead and select one without knowing what he'd be in for, but it was practically suicidal to go into a mission unprepared, so he retrieved the paper and smoothed it out.
He blanched when he saw Wraith Feeding followed by the date in brackets. He swore quietly and hoped Rodney was wrong about the viewer experiencing someone's actual memories. Wraith/Borg war puzzled him for a moment, until he realized it had been bracketed with Wraith/superhero and there was an arrow pointing to a notation at the bottom that read 'dreams?' He’d had dreams like that. But then his eye caught sight of Rodney’s name. The final four crystals were simply labeled John and Rodney with a location after each.
"What are you getting now?" he cried to the anonymous alien as a multitude of feelings washed over him. Fear, anger, embarrassment, sadness, hurt, confusion. There was more - much of it indefinable. He crammed the cage of probes onto his head, snatched a crystal at random and shoved it into the device. As Todd sucked the life force from him once more, he tore the headset off and tossed it aside. That was him. His experience. Everything he felt laid bare for anyone to share. Not a fake. There was no way anyone could fake that.
Four more of Lorne's beers remained in his fridge. He downed one and took another out onto his balcony. Wiping the chilled bottle over his head did little to ease the pounding headache he now had. He stared up at the stars and sighed. He'd be willing to bet anyone watching John and Rodney in a jumper wouldn’t be seeing him give a flying lesson. What was worse, they'd know. They may have been fantasies rather than real experiences, but if the emotions that came through were even a quarter of what he felt, there would be no doubt as to how he felt about Rodney McKay. And that meant Rodney knew.
With a feeling close to impending doom, John headed back inside. He needed to find out exactly what was on those crystals. He settled on the beach fantasy. It was a favorite of his. The two of them, a deserted beach, Rodney complaining about radiation and skin cancer and holding out the sunscreen for John to rub on his back.
They were good, whoever they were. He could feel Rodney's skin, just the way he'd imagined. He tasted the sweat and the slightly coconutty flavor of the sunscreen
Rodney promised was non-toxic when his screen self licked the back of Rodney's neck. It was odd feeling Rodney's hands on his face when he turned for a kiss, but even odder seeing his hands, sliding along Rodney’s arms. He sat on his hands when he realized he was duplicating his actions on the screen in real life.
He must have played out this fantasy more than a dozen times, fixing little details until it was perfect. It was here the words 'love you' rolled easily off his lips. No stammer, no stutter, no groping for words that refused to come out as anything other than an awkward 'I...you know'.
"Love you."
"Me too."
"What, love you?"
"Idiot."
They laughed and teased one another between kisses and caresses, until in the shade of a garish orange and yellow sun umbrella they made love. Then the screen went blank and slowly John took the probes from his head.
It took him three days to watch all of the crystals. He felt chagrined, not to mention violated when he thought about his fantasies, his dreams and experiences, his every emotion on show for random strangers to live and he was especially angry with the purveyors. He scanned the reports from the time he'd been missing, cursing when there seemed nothing that hadn't been followed up. He made a mental note to keep an ear out for reports of missing persons who turned up again after a few days.
In the mean time, he ran with Ronon, sparred with Teyla, met with Elizabeth and did the inventories Lorne passed to him in exchange for the beer as he wondered what to do about Rodney. He kept their conversations to impersonal topics and prided himself no-one noticed anything different about him.
Do you want to talk?
John worried his lower lip as he stared at the message from Rodney. He'd put off talking to him long enough. There was no need to see Lorne - he had beer of his own, so he sent a reply. Less than five minutes later, Rodney was at his door. He dumped a couple of beers on the desk.
"This is," but John didn't get any further before Rodney interrupted.
"I'm sorry."
That wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for. He didn't want Rodney to feel sorry for him. "Ah...I'm...."
"No, no! I didn't mean that," said Rodney hurriedly. "I'm sorry for the fact someone invaded your privacy and stole your thoughts. I'm sorry they felt they had the right to share them with all and sundry. I'm sorry I have no idea who did this so we can make sure they don't do it again. But I'm not sorry that I know you love me. I am sorry Zelenka found out before I did -"
"Wait, Rodney. Stop! Zelenka's seen these?"
"Only a couple of them. I don't think you'll ever get him in an F-302. It's all right though. He won't say anything. About you. About us. He promised. Although he did agree that the Borg assimilating the Wraith was a bad idea. "
John groaned. "There is no 'us' for him to say anything about."
"But you'd like there to be."
John turned away.
"What if I'd like there to be an us too?"
"Rodney?" He couldn't help the hopeful note in his voice.
Rodney picked up the black box which lay on the desk. "Right now, what I feel for you isn't this, but I think it could be. We're friends already, close friends already, and seriously, no two people are going to fall in love with each other at exactly the same time. Someone always has to be first. You get to be first in this instance."
"But," and John nodded in the direction of the box, "you know, you know exactly how I feel. I won't know..."
"Oh, please, you'll know. We don't need this. It's nothing but a tool for a bunch of voyeurs." It landed in the corner where he tossed it. "Although...I wouldn't mind seeing Superman vs. the Wraith again some time. So, you wanna go sit on the pier?"
~ ~ ~
Epilogue:
It took almost six more quarters for Felice, Yarren, Zev and the others to overthrow the Council. It was not a popular move with the majority. The people cried out for their Experience Chambers and their carefully planned existence. The Council took back their power and exiled the dissidents, who spent their lives searching for the new Retrieval Team and thwarting them whenever possible. Talie refused to leave with Zev, preferring to bring their children up in safety and in the manner she'd always known. He left, vowing to come back for them one day.
THE END
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