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gilascaveSneak preview of the sequel to Alone in Your Mind. It's the full chapter, but is a draft and it'll be awhile before more chapters are written because tonight I go back to work after five glorious days off, sob!
As this is a draft, there will be some errors and tweakables. You don't need to point them out as I've already fixed half a dozen in the main file. ;-) This is just for your amusement.
This chapter rated PG-15.
What Dwells Within
sequel to Alone in Your Mind
by James
The city was teeming with life again. Not that many people, really -- 254 to be exact, only 251 more than yesterday and 964,386 fewer than the city ever held at its most. But they were all squished together in a single pair of neighborhoods which created the false impression of population density. Plenty of room to work and live, but it gave the impression that the entire city was full.
Full, unless he happened down an empty corridor, or glanced at the sensors for any other section of the city and saw it dark and cold. The overwhelming hugeness of Atlantis made 254 seem like a pile of crumbs.
Carson couldn't tell if he preferred it this way, or if he was already homesick for last week, when it was he and John and Rodney with the run of the city to themselves. Not, unlike John, because John's poor list of 'sex in public places' had gone lacking the last couple weeks. Carson liked sex, enjoyed it in quite a variety of ways, but "public" was one kink he had never quite managed to acquire.
Having the city of Atlantis to yourself made it all seem very private, of course, and he'd rather enjoyed what they'd done. But now -- well, there was still the fear that Dr. Weir could tell what they'd done and would rake them over the coals for it.
She'd asked him to her office in fact, only two days after the expedition's return. Everyone was still settling in, giving tours and briefings to the newcomers, dusting off equipment and desks as though they'd been gone 10,000 years and not a mere thirty days.
He'd given his new nurses and Dr. Collin the full-tour of the infirmary and labs, showing them in particular each piece of Ancient technology they'd put into use. Dr. Collin had demonstrated herself an exceptionally intelligent woman, quick to grasp the importance of things as well as understand the workings of a half-human, half-alien facility.
At the moment she was borrowing his office to read through the personnel files, familiarising herself with the medical staff as well as all their potential patients. Dr. Weir had sent Carson an email that morning requesting a meeting, and as he walked through the busy hallways, Carson thought that maybe things were going smoothly for a change.
He reached Dr. Weir's office and the door swished open at his arrival. Weir, Murdoc, the door itself -- he hadn't a clue, but Dr. Weir didn't look surprised as he stepped inside.
"Carson, good." She smiled, sitting behind her desk surrounded by the familiar piles of paperwork and laptop. Carson tried very hard not to think about John sitting on her desk.
Dr. Weir waved him to a seat. He took it as she finished typing something on her keyboard before turning to him and folding her hands on top of the desk. A friendly, if serious meeting, he guessed.
"I want to say thank you again," she began. "All this translation work you did -- it's incredible! Everyone is practically frantic, trying to get through it and find out what new information we have. Dr. Silas asked me to ask if you would be willing to meet with some of the linguists at some point to do some more work on the database."
Carson nodded. "Sure, I suppose."
"Excellent." She smiled again, and the air of 'friendly' didn't waver, though it did even less now to hide Carson's suspicion that something was coming. He set a search on the list of repairs in the interface, quickly scrolling through to see if there was anything on it that Weir would have had called to her attention. There was nothing he could see that she'd be particularly interested in and nothing lit urgent-red, either.
"How's your staff settling in?" she asked.
"Oh, fine. They're all a bit overwhelmed, of course, and who can blame them? But they all seem like good people and their records show they're all quite skilled, which of course you know."
"Yes, but it's encouraging to hear it confirmed," she said, still smiling, but finally it grew serious. "And Dr. Collin? What's your impression of her?"
Carson nodded, though he wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing with her about. "Oh, she's just lovely. Only had to explain things to her once and she was already figuring out one of the Ancient's diagnostic panels after I turned it on. She seems quite competent, and the other staff seem quite taken with her as well."
She'd introduced herself to each nurse and doctor present, showing a sincere interest in each and every one of them. It was the way she listened, Carson knew. She looked at a person and asked intelligent questions, and looked for all the world like she was memorising every word that was said to her.
"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Dr. Weir sat back a little in her chair before changing her mind and leaning forward again. "She's actually why I called you down here."
Carson frowned. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, far from it. You know her specialty is in emergency medicine."
"Aye, because we needed someone with more experience. She's been in charge of hospital emergency rooms for the last fifteen years, according to her files."
"Yes. And that's what I wanted to tell you. I'm placing her in charge."
Carson blinked. "Of the infirmary?" Well, that made sense. It would free him from a score of duties -- not just from having Dr. Collin there, but to have her in charge of it.
But Dr. Weir shook her head. "I've named her Chief Medical Officer. She'll be in charge of the infirmary as well as all medical personnel, including those focused solely on research."
Carson was glad his expression didn't change. "Oh."
"It has nothing to do with the job you've done," she said quickly. "Everything you've done here has been excellent and I wouldn't dream of putting someone else in charge if it weren't for the fact that you already have two full-time jobs, now. It seemed unnecessary to make you continue having three."
She paused, looking uncomfortable for a moment.
"I saw that for the last couple of months before we left that you hadn't filed any progress reports on your research into the Wraith. Between that and the work you're doing on the Ancient technology, I decided it would be best if I brought someone else in to do the administrative work for the medical department. It is in no way a reflection on how well you've done your job," she said again. "But...quite honestly, the maintenance work you're doing now is probably the most important thing we need you for. The translation work alone...!" She shook her head with an expression of amazement. "I'm sure you understand?"
"I...I think Dr. Collin will do admirably," he managed. Dr. Collin hadn't said anything, and he didn't know...well, of course she'd have known. Dr. Weir would have selected her for the job and briefed her. "Was there anything else?"
"No. Not unless you...?"
Carson shook his head. "Thank you, Dr. Weir," he said, the polite words coming by habit.
Dr. Weir nodded as he rose, then said nothing as he left.
He walked out of the control centre, stepping around the people moving this way and that. He made his way down to the infirmary and to his -- old -- office. Dr. Collin was gone and he quietly took a small box from beneath a cabinet and filled it with his few belongings. Most of the items he left for her, but his files on the Wraith research he would need, and his stethoscope was lying on the counter. A small toolkit and a tin of tea -- the same one Dr. Collin had brought him. All into the box, then he slipped back out and left the infirmary.
There was no place to stash his things in the medical lab he used, but he knew he could commandeer an empty desk in any of the nearby offices. Instead he continued walking.
The chief maintenance office was in a section of the city not yet explored and still deemed unsafe. He'd taken over the local workshop simply because it was local and in good condition. Near enough to everything and it was there Carson went.
He dropped the box on a worktable to put away later.
~~~~~~~~
Rodney stormed into Dr. Weir's office late that evening, glaring at her when she looked up.
"Rodney?"
"That...how could you do that?" he demanded. They'd got the whole story from Carson when they'd come home, and he and John had argued over which of them should come yell at her. He'd won simply because he knew more big words.
Elizabeth scooted her chair back, looking defensive and confused at the same time. "I assume you mean about Carson?"
"Yes, I mean about *demoting* Carson."
She looked surprised. "You think it would be better for him to be over-worked?"
"That's what they make assistants for." Rodney had to stop himself from pacing, or marching around the desk and yanking Elizabeth out of her chair and shaking her. It was surprisingly easy not to mind that he kept seeing John sitting on her desk and Carson leaning back against him.
"Giving him an assistant wouldn't had decreased his workload significantly," she tried to say.
"Oh, so it was so much *better* to take away his job?"
He really wanted to smack something. God -- when they'd got back to their quarters, Carson had been there. Sitting in the living room staring at the wall. They'd thought was reading on some maintenance thing until they'd noticed just how pale he was.
He'd told them what had happened. His voice had been steady, but his eyes had kept growing wider in shock.
"One job," Elizabeth repeated. "He still has two -- his genetics research and working with Ancient technology -- which, if you ask me, is a lot more important than anything else."
Rodney folded his arms because he knew he couldn't hit her. "Oh yes, and thank you for that. Telling him he's more valuable as a repairman than a doctor."
She narrowed her eyes. "That's not what I said. That isn't what he does, you know it."
"From his point of view, that's what it is. He isn't *discovering* things or figuring out new stuff or..or...doing anything he's trained to do. He's reading a manual that tells him to insert tab A into slot B. Any untrained monkey could do it; it just so happens that he got stuck with it."
"That isn't what he's doing," she said again.
He waved her quiet. "I know that. You know that. Carson...." He didn't think he was getting his point across, so he tried again. "What's your specialty?"
She blinked at him. "Diplomacy," she said after a moment.
"Right, OK, so -- you're a leader, a diplomat, you speak a gazillion langauges. It's what you're good at, right?"
"Are you saying I haven't been--"
"No, no, listen to me. What if I told you that it's been really great having you lead the expedition but what we really need is the way you can make everyone's clothing get really nice and clean."
She'd narrowed her eyes again, but in a way that said she was thinking, not setting up to argue with him. "That isn't really analogous, Rodney."
"Isn't it? You have how many degrees? Spent how many years before coming here and doing a fantastic job leading the mission. But -- really, we like the way you can put clothes in a washer and get the amount of soap *just* right so that everything's clean without smelling soapy."
"That's--"
"If I had access to the maintenance interface I could do exactly what Carson's doing. Hell, if Zelenka or Masterson or Pavil had access to it, they'd probably do it a thousand times better because they're trained engineers and don't think I haven't had to listen to Zelenka complain about it. And here you think it's better that he fix engines out of a book than help save lives."
He clenched his fist. He'd almost calmed down a little, trying to think of a way to explain it to her. But now -- god, the look in Carson's eyes. And he'd been too polite, too nice to want to complain about it.
But Elizabeth was staring at him now. She nodded. "Where is he?"
"At our place. Come on."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Carson was sitting on the couch, leaning against John. John had been trying to carry on a conversation with him ever since Rodney had stormed out to confront Dr. Weir. Carson had asked him not to, but between Rodney and John both steaming and practically bouncing off the walls, he thought it easier to just let them.
He didn't want to confront her, didn't want her to think he had to send his...whatever they were to defend him. But neither did he want to think about it at all, so he'd let John try to distract him.
Nothing had worked very well. John had tried talking about American football, then he'd complained about the new arrivals getting lost and needing fetched back. Even the kissing and groping hadn't done much for him, and finally John had admitted defeat and let Carson settle where he was now, to sit and think in silence.
When the door opened he looked up in surprise. Rodney hadn't been gone very long to have said everything he'd been threatening to say. But it was Dr. Weir who walked in first and went directly to the chair nearest him. Carson hastily rubbed at his face, hoping he looked nothing like he felt.
"It's been pointed out how badly I handled this," she began.
"Dr. Weir, you don't--"
"Please," she interrupted. "Do you have *any* idea how vital it is, what you can do? And I don't just mean repairing the ZPM so we can return to Earth and run the shields. Although those two things alone are among the most important things any of us have done since we got here.
"But can you imagine what it would be like if we were still stumbling around without any idea what we were doing, what the technology we're finding does? What would have happened, for example, if we'd gone exploring the city and didn't know about the viral lab? Can you imagine what would have happened if we'd accidently released any of those viruses? How many lives did you save right there, just by marking a room on a map?"
Carson frowned. It hadn't been that much, really. He'd just told them the lab had been labeled for the highest level security and should be checked with caution. Rodney's team had bypassed the hallway entirely, focusing their exploration on other sections. Later, a team in HAZMAT suits had checked the room again and discovered some of the containers were broken. They'd sealed the lab and left it.
"I know it may not seem like much," Weir continued. "And it certainly isn't anything like what you were prepared for. But you're in a unique position to help us explore the Ancients' technology *safely*. We need that much more than we need you signing off nursing schedules and keeping track of medical supplies."
Carson glanced at Rodney, who was just standing there staring at him without any clue on his face as to what he was thinking. John was sitting still beside him and Carson didn't want to look over to see what he was thinking. "I...hadn't thought about it like that," he confessed.
"I know it isn't what you might have chosen," Dr. Weir said. "I can only imagine how...difficult it must be."
Frightening, was what she didn't say. But Carson found himself nodding, and found himself believing her.
"I should have told you better," she continued. "I thought you'd be glad to be rid of that part of your job so...I didn't give you any warning at all. I apologise. You're still on the medical staff of course, and you can divide your time up however it works best for you between the genetics research and the maintenance work. I wasn't thinking of it as a demotion."
The word still stung, but Carson thought he understood what she was saying. He tried to think of something to say, to let her know he wasn't angry. Let her think he was already over being hurt. He couldn't think of anything, and she just sat there, waiting on him.
John said, "Hey, at least you won't have to attend staff meetings."
Dr. Weir looked surprised. "On the contrary, as head of the maintenance department he'll still be coming to every one of our meetings." She gave him a hesitant smile.
"I'm the entire bloody department, you mean," Carson pointed out.
"That's another thing I want to discuss with you," Dr. Weir began. "I know...if you wanted assistants, there are any number of people who are interested in volunteering. Several of the engineers in particular--"
"Me," Rodney said, clearly. "I'll do it."
"Yes, and any *more* assistance you want," Dr Weir continued, giving Rodney a brief, amused smile. "Anyone you want, just let me know and I'll approve it."
Carson nodded, grateful for this, at least. It felt somewhat like being thrown a bone, far after the fact. But he could see things from her point of view. It was better for the expedition. There was nothing vital about being Chief Medical Officer and something very vital about being the only official repairman in the city.
It hit him, then. "Dr. Gallagher didn't return, did she?" Carson asked.
Dr. Weir looked quite suddenly composed. "She and I agreed it would be best if she remained on Earth."
"Why? I mean -- I'm not angry with her. It was a simple accident."
"She ignored established safety procedures," Dr. Weir said. "And she failed to get your permission before engaging the device."
"That's no reason to fire her." Carson frowned. The poor lass hadn't meant any harm by it.
Dr. Weir shook her head. "She wasn't fired, just transferred to the SGC in Colorado. She agreed that she'd been careless. Carson -- she didn't know what that device would do. What if it had killed you?"
"But it didn't. It was perfectly safe." Carson tried to ignore the sudden look of alarm that appeared on Rodney's face.
"She didn't know that," Dr. Weir insisted. "You didn't know that. She might have killed you."
Carson hadn't ever really thought about it. He'd long since forgiven Dr. Gallagher for what she'd done and told her so, even. It had never occurred to him that the device could have been any number of other things. Or that it could have simply been a *faulty* interface.
And fried his brains the second she'd put it on him.
He shivered, looking at his wrist and pushing his arm away, half-reflexively trying to get it away from him. There was a schematic, suddenly, of the device itself. He'd seen it before when he'd looked into removing it. But this time he saw, highlighted, the safety feature which prevented it from switching on at all if it weren't in perfect working order.
John took his arm, holding it above the device and rubbed the skin with his thumb.
"You can help us avoid that, now," Dr. Weir said quietly. "By helping us identify the technology we're working with, and helping us--"
"Not blow ourselves up," Rodney finished. "I never really thought about...what could have happened." He took a step towards them, then stopped.
John's grip tightened on his arm and he started to pull Carson towards him. He stopped and held still, tense. Dr. Weir stood up. "If there's anything I can do, please, just let me know."
Carson nodded, not really thinking about her offer. It was hard to, what with John looking at him with such a fierce expression in his eyes, and Rodney looking like his feet had got trapped in the floor. Wanting to rush over and unable to take another step.
Dr. Weir let herself out and when the door slid closed, Rodney was on him, kissing him hard enough that thinking of dying became impossible.
end chapter one
As this is a draft, there will be some errors and tweakables. You don't need to point them out as I've already fixed half a dozen in the main file. ;-) This is just for your amusement.
This chapter rated PG-15.
What Dwells Within
sequel to Alone in Your Mind
by James
The city was teeming with life again. Not that many people, really -- 254 to be exact, only 251 more than yesterday and 964,386 fewer than the city ever held at its most. But they were all squished together in a single pair of neighborhoods which created the false impression of population density. Plenty of room to work and live, but it gave the impression that the entire city was full.
Full, unless he happened down an empty corridor, or glanced at the sensors for any other section of the city and saw it dark and cold. The overwhelming hugeness of Atlantis made 254 seem like a pile of crumbs.
Carson couldn't tell if he preferred it this way, or if he was already homesick for last week, when it was he and John and Rodney with the run of the city to themselves. Not, unlike John, because John's poor list of 'sex in public places' had gone lacking the last couple weeks. Carson liked sex, enjoyed it in quite a variety of ways, but "public" was one kink he had never quite managed to acquire.
Having the city of Atlantis to yourself made it all seem very private, of course, and he'd rather enjoyed what they'd done. But now -- well, there was still the fear that Dr. Weir could tell what they'd done and would rake them over the coals for it.
She'd asked him to her office in fact, only two days after the expedition's return. Everyone was still settling in, giving tours and briefings to the newcomers, dusting off equipment and desks as though they'd been gone 10,000 years and not a mere thirty days.
He'd given his new nurses and Dr. Collin the full-tour of the infirmary and labs, showing them in particular each piece of Ancient technology they'd put into use. Dr. Collin had demonstrated herself an exceptionally intelligent woman, quick to grasp the importance of things as well as understand the workings of a half-human, half-alien facility.
At the moment she was borrowing his office to read through the personnel files, familiarising herself with the medical staff as well as all their potential patients. Dr. Weir had sent Carson an email that morning requesting a meeting, and as he walked through the busy hallways, Carson thought that maybe things were going smoothly for a change.
He reached Dr. Weir's office and the door swished open at his arrival. Weir, Murdoc, the door itself -- he hadn't a clue, but Dr. Weir didn't look surprised as he stepped inside.
"Carson, good." She smiled, sitting behind her desk surrounded by the familiar piles of paperwork and laptop. Carson tried very hard not to think about John sitting on her desk.
Dr. Weir waved him to a seat. He took it as she finished typing something on her keyboard before turning to him and folding her hands on top of the desk. A friendly, if serious meeting, he guessed.
"I want to say thank you again," she began. "All this translation work you did -- it's incredible! Everyone is practically frantic, trying to get through it and find out what new information we have. Dr. Silas asked me to ask if you would be willing to meet with some of the linguists at some point to do some more work on the database."
Carson nodded. "Sure, I suppose."
"Excellent." She smiled again, and the air of 'friendly' didn't waver, though it did even less now to hide Carson's suspicion that something was coming. He set a search on the list of repairs in the interface, quickly scrolling through to see if there was anything on it that Weir would have had called to her attention. There was nothing he could see that she'd be particularly interested in and nothing lit urgent-red, either.
"How's your staff settling in?" she asked.
"Oh, fine. They're all a bit overwhelmed, of course, and who can blame them? But they all seem like good people and their records show they're all quite skilled, which of course you know."
"Yes, but it's encouraging to hear it confirmed," she said, still smiling, but finally it grew serious. "And Dr. Collin? What's your impression of her?"
Carson nodded, though he wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing with her about. "Oh, she's just lovely. Only had to explain things to her once and she was already figuring out one of the Ancient's diagnostic panels after I turned it on. She seems quite competent, and the other staff seem quite taken with her as well."
She'd introduced herself to each nurse and doctor present, showing a sincere interest in each and every one of them. It was the way she listened, Carson knew. She looked at a person and asked intelligent questions, and looked for all the world like she was memorising every word that was said to her.
"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Dr. Weir sat back a little in her chair before changing her mind and leaning forward again. "She's actually why I called you down here."
Carson frowned. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, far from it. You know her specialty is in emergency medicine."
"Aye, because we needed someone with more experience. She's been in charge of hospital emergency rooms for the last fifteen years, according to her files."
"Yes. And that's what I wanted to tell you. I'm placing her in charge."
Carson blinked. "Of the infirmary?" Well, that made sense. It would free him from a score of duties -- not just from having Dr. Collin there, but to have her in charge of it.
But Dr. Weir shook her head. "I've named her Chief Medical Officer. She'll be in charge of the infirmary as well as all medical personnel, including those focused solely on research."
Carson was glad his expression didn't change. "Oh."
"It has nothing to do with the job you've done," she said quickly. "Everything you've done here has been excellent and I wouldn't dream of putting someone else in charge if it weren't for the fact that you already have two full-time jobs, now. It seemed unnecessary to make you continue having three."
She paused, looking uncomfortable for a moment.
"I saw that for the last couple of months before we left that you hadn't filed any progress reports on your research into the Wraith. Between that and the work you're doing on the Ancient technology, I decided it would be best if I brought someone else in to do the administrative work for the medical department. It is in no way a reflection on how well you've done your job," she said again. "But...quite honestly, the maintenance work you're doing now is probably the most important thing we need you for. The translation work alone...!" She shook her head with an expression of amazement. "I'm sure you understand?"
"I...I think Dr. Collin will do admirably," he managed. Dr. Collin hadn't said anything, and he didn't know...well, of course she'd have known. Dr. Weir would have selected her for the job and briefed her. "Was there anything else?"
"No. Not unless you...?"
Carson shook his head. "Thank you, Dr. Weir," he said, the polite words coming by habit.
Dr. Weir nodded as he rose, then said nothing as he left.
He walked out of the control centre, stepping around the people moving this way and that. He made his way down to the infirmary and to his -- old -- office. Dr. Collin was gone and he quietly took a small box from beneath a cabinet and filled it with his few belongings. Most of the items he left for her, but his files on the Wraith research he would need, and his stethoscope was lying on the counter. A small toolkit and a tin of tea -- the same one Dr. Collin had brought him. All into the box, then he slipped back out and left the infirmary.
There was no place to stash his things in the medical lab he used, but he knew he could commandeer an empty desk in any of the nearby offices. Instead he continued walking.
The chief maintenance office was in a section of the city not yet explored and still deemed unsafe. He'd taken over the local workshop simply because it was local and in good condition. Near enough to everything and it was there Carson went.
He dropped the box on a worktable to put away later.
~~~~~~~~
Rodney stormed into Dr. Weir's office late that evening, glaring at her when she looked up.
"Rodney?"
"That...how could you do that?" he demanded. They'd got the whole story from Carson when they'd come home, and he and John had argued over which of them should come yell at her. He'd won simply because he knew more big words.
Elizabeth scooted her chair back, looking defensive and confused at the same time. "I assume you mean about Carson?"
"Yes, I mean about *demoting* Carson."
She looked surprised. "You think it would be better for him to be over-worked?"
"That's what they make assistants for." Rodney had to stop himself from pacing, or marching around the desk and yanking Elizabeth out of her chair and shaking her. It was surprisingly easy not to mind that he kept seeing John sitting on her desk and Carson leaning back against him.
"Giving him an assistant wouldn't had decreased his workload significantly," she tried to say.
"Oh, so it was so much *better* to take away his job?"
He really wanted to smack something. God -- when they'd got back to their quarters, Carson had been there. Sitting in the living room staring at the wall. They'd thought was reading on some maintenance thing until they'd noticed just how pale he was.
He'd told them what had happened. His voice had been steady, but his eyes had kept growing wider in shock.
"One job," Elizabeth repeated. "He still has two -- his genetics research and working with Ancient technology -- which, if you ask me, is a lot more important than anything else."
Rodney folded his arms because he knew he couldn't hit her. "Oh yes, and thank you for that. Telling him he's more valuable as a repairman than a doctor."
She narrowed her eyes. "That's not what I said. That isn't what he does, you know it."
"From his point of view, that's what it is. He isn't *discovering* things or figuring out new stuff or..or...doing anything he's trained to do. He's reading a manual that tells him to insert tab A into slot B. Any untrained monkey could do it; it just so happens that he got stuck with it."
"That isn't what he's doing," she said again.
He waved her quiet. "I know that. You know that. Carson...." He didn't think he was getting his point across, so he tried again. "What's your specialty?"
She blinked at him. "Diplomacy," she said after a moment.
"Right, OK, so -- you're a leader, a diplomat, you speak a gazillion langauges. It's what you're good at, right?"
"Are you saying I haven't been--"
"No, no, listen to me. What if I told you that it's been really great having you lead the expedition but what we really need is the way you can make everyone's clothing get really nice and clean."
She'd narrowed her eyes again, but in a way that said she was thinking, not setting up to argue with him. "That isn't really analogous, Rodney."
"Isn't it? You have how many degrees? Spent how many years before coming here and doing a fantastic job leading the mission. But -- really, we like the way you can put clothes in a washer and get the amount of soap *just* right so that everything's clean without smelling soapy."
"That's--"
"If I had access to the maintenance interface I could do exactly what Carson's doing. Hell, if Zelenka or Masterson or Pavil had access to it, they'd probably do it a thousand times better because they're trained engineers and don't think I haven't had to listen to Zelenka complain about it. And here you think it's better that he fix engines out of a book than help save lives."
He clenched his fist. He'd almost calmed down a little, trying to think of a way to explain it to her. But now -- god, the look in Carson's eyes. And he'd been too polite, too nice to want to complain about it.
But Elizabeth was staring at him now. She nodded. "Where is he?"
"At our place. Come on."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Carson was sitting on the couch, leaning against John. John had been trying to carry on a conversation with him ever since Rodney had stormed out to confront Dr. Weir. Carson had asked him not to, but between Rodney and John both steaming and practically bouncing off the walls, he thought it easier to just let them.
He didn't want to confront her, didn't want her to think he had to send his...whatever they were to defend him. But neither did he want to think about it at all, so he'd let John try to distract him.
Nothing had worked very well. John had tried talking about American football, then he'd complained about the new arrivals getting lost and needing fetched back. Even the kissing and groping hadn't done much for him, and finally John had admitted defeat and let Carson settle where he was now, to sit and think in silence.
When the door opened he looked up in surprise. Rodney hadn't been gone very long to have said everything he'd been threatening to say. But it was Dr. Weir who walked in first and went directly to the chair nearest him. Carson hastily rubbed at his face, hoping he looked nothing like he felt.
"It's been pointed out how badly I handled this," she began.
"Dr. Weir, you don't--"
"Please," she interrupted. "Do you have *any* idea how vital it is, what you can do? And I don't just mean repairing the ZPM so we can return to Earth and run the shields. Although those two things alone are among the most important things any of us have done since we got here.
"But can you imagine what it would be like if we were still stumbling around without any idea what we were doing, what the technology we're finding does? What would have happened, for example, if we'd gone exploring the city and didn't know about the viral lab? Can you imagine what would have happened if we'd accidently released any of those viruses? How many lives did you save right there, just by marking a room on a map?"
Carson frowned. It hadn't been that much, really. He'd just told them the lab had been labeled for the highest level security and should be checked with caution. Rodney's team had bypassed the hallway entirely, focusing their exploration on other sections. Later, a team in HAZMAT suits had checked the room again and discovered some of the containers were broken. They'd sealed the lab and left it.
"I know it may not seem like much," Weir continued. "And it certainly isn't anything like what you were prepared for. But you're in a unique position to help us explore the Ancients' technology *safely*. We need that much more than we need you signing off nursing schedules and keeping track of medical supplies."
Carson glanced at Rodney, who was just standing there staring at him without any clue on his face as to what he was thinking. John was sitting still beside him and Carson didn't want to look over to see what he was thinking. "I...hadn't thought about it like that," he confessed.
"I know it isn't what you might have chosen," Dr. Weir said. "I can only imagine how...difficult it must be."
Frightening, was what she didn't say. But Carson found himself nodding, and found himself believing her.
"I should have told you better," she continued. "I thought you'd be glad to be rid of that part of your job so...I didn't give you any warning at all. I apologise. You're still on the medical staff of course, and you can divide your time up however it works best for you between the genetics research and the maintenance work. I wasn't thinking of it as a demotion."
The word still stung, but Carson thought he understood what she was saying. He tried to think of something to say, to let her know he wasn't angry. Let her think he was already over being hurt. He couldn't think of anything, and she just sat there, waiting on him.
John said, "Hey, at least you won't have to attend staff meetings."
Dr. Weir looked surprised. "On the contrary, as head of the maintenance department he'll still be coming to every one of our meetings." She gave him a hesitant smile.
"I'm the entire bloody department, you mean," Carson pointed out.
"That's another thing I want to discuss with you," Dr. Weir began. "I know...if you wanted assistants, there are any number of people who are interested in volunteering. Several of the engineers in particular--"
"Me," Rodney said, clearly. "I'll do it."
"Yes, and any *more* assistance you want," Dr Weir continued, giving Rodney a brief, amused smile. "Anyone you want, just let me know and I'll approve it."
Carson nodded, grateful for this, at least. It felt somewhat like being thrown a bone, far after the fact. But he could see things from her point of view. It was better for the expedition. There was nothing vital about being Chief Medical Officer and something very vital about being the only official repairman in the city.
It hit him, then. "Dr. Gallagher didn't return, did she?" Carson asked.
Dr. Weir looked quite suddenly composed. "She and I agreed it would be best if she remained on Earth."
"Why? I mean -- I'm not angry with her. It was a simple accident."
"She ignored established safety procedures," Dr. Weir said. "And she failed to get your permission before engaging the device."
"That's no reason to fire her." Carson frowned. The poor lass hadn't meant any harm by it.
Dr. Weir shook her head. "She wasn't fired, just transferred to the SGC in Colorado. She agreed that she'd been careless. Carson -- she didn't know what that device would do. What if it had killed you?"
"But it didn't. It was perfectly safe." Carson tried to ignore the sudden look of alarm that appeared on Rodney's face.
"She didn't know that," Dr. Weir insisted. "You didn't know that. She might have killed you."
Carson hadn't ever really thought about it. He'd long since forgiven Dr. Gallagher for what she'd done and told her so, even. It had never occurred to him that the device could have been any number of other things. Or that it could have simply been a *faulty* interface.
And fried his brains the second she'd put it on him.
He shivered, looking at his wrist and pushing his arm away, half-reflexively trying to get it away from him. There was a schematic, suddenly, of the device itself. He'd seen it before when he'd looked into removing it. But this time he saw, highlighted, the safety feature which prevented it from switching on at all if it weren't in perfect working order.
John took his arm, holding it above the device and rubbed the skin with his thumb.
"You can help us avoid that, now," Dr. Weir said quietly. "By helping us identify the technology we're working with, and helping us--"
"Not blow ourselves up," Rodney finished. "I never really thought about...what could have happened." He took a step towards them, then stopped.
John's grip tightened on his arm and he started to pull Carson towards him. He stopped and held still, tense. Dr. Weir stood up. "If there's anything I can do, please, just let me know."
Carson nodded, not really thinking about her offer. It was hard to, what with John looking at him with such a fierce expression in his eyes, and Rodney looking like his feet had got trapped in the floor. Wanting to rush over and unable to take another step.
Dr. Weir let herself out and when the door slid closed, Rodney was on him, kissing him hard enough that thinking of dying became impossible.
end chapter one