SGA-17 Legacy 2 - The Lost

by Graham, Jo

  He found Sam in the Hammond’s galley, nursing a cup of coffee. She waved him to a seat and pushed the paperwork she’d been reading aside. “What can I do for you, Sheppard?”

  “I was wondering if I could get someone on your medical staff to do an eye exam for Zelenka,” he said. “It’s probably no big deal, but just in case there’s something that might be a problem according to the letter of the rules…”

  “Well, okay,” Sam said. “I’d think Dr. Keller could do that, though.”

  “Well, then it’s official, and if she doesn’t put it in her paperwork, she could get in trouble. If it’s just one of your people taking a look when they’re off duty, though — ”

  “Yes, all right,” Sam said. “I can arrange that. You owe me, though.”

  “Absolutely,” John said, with his most charming smile. He figured that ought to take care of it. There might not be any problem after all, but better safe than sorry.

  * * *

  The morning briefing for the new military personnel on Ancient weapons technology was easy to do pretty much on auto-pilot, because it really boiled down to ‘we have some drones and some weird devices that we don’t know what to do with, and that are equally likely to be actual weapons and to be things that we’re just using in all the ways it says not to on the warning label.’ The fun part would be getting to actually play with the drones, which would be a later and much smaller training session.

  John was thinking hopefully of coffee when his radio headset sounded.

  “Colonel Sheppard,” Jennifer said. “Would you stop by when you have a moment? There’s something we need to talk about.”

  He considered getting the coffee first, “I’ll be right there,” he said instead. It was never a good thing when a doctor said there was something you needed to talk about. It probably wasn’t about him, unless he’d managed to contract a deadly disease in the last couple of weeks, but if one of his people had managed to wind up in the infirmary with something embarrassing and contagious, or, worse, something that suggested serious mental health issues, it was going to be his problem.

  He was not really in the mood to deal with either ‘contracted a social disease while the rest of us were trying to get some work done’ or ‘probably crazy.’ Of course, Jennifer wouldn’t put it that way. She’d talk about PTSD and the pressure everyone was under, and he’d nod and agree that of course whoever it was needed to go home. Or maybe send them over to Dr. Robinson, and let her find fancier words for ‘couldn’t put up enough of a good front.’

  John was beginning to think he should have fortified himself with coffee first, but it was too late now that he was almost at the infirmary doors. He squared his shoulders and walked in, looking around to see who was here and what they’d done to themselves.

  The infirmary was quiet except for a young Marine who was getting stitches on his cheek from one of the nurses. He relaxed a little; Jennifer had called him down here before to point out that the Marines inflicted an unnecessary number of injuries on one another in physical training, which John agreed was probably true but disagreed that he was in a position to do anything about. It wasn’t like telling them to play nice was likely to have much effect.

  “Colonel Sheppard,” Jennifer said, standing in the door of her office. He was alarmed by how grim she looked. “Come into my office, please.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, coming in.

  She shut the door without answering, but made no move to sit down behind her desk, where her laptop still sat open. She had coffee, some part of his mind noticed enviously, although it looked like it had gotten cold.

  “I received a transfer of medical records from the Hammond this morning,” she said. “The records of Dr. Zelenka’s eye exam. Does this ring any bells?”

  John considered I don’t know what you’re talking about and they weren’t supposed to send you the records as possible answers, and struck out for some middle ground. “How’d that go?”

  “He’s cleared for active duty. Is that your question?”

  “He’s been having trouble with firearms practice,” John said. “It was my advice that he should get his eyes checked.”

  “It looks like that was good advice,” Jennifer said. “Now I want to ask you a really direct question, and I’d appreciate an honest answer. Was it Zelenka’s idea to do an end run around me on this, or was it yours?”

  “It was mine,” John said after a moment.

  She shook her head. “Somehow I figured that.”

  “We need him,” John said intently. “With Rodney missing, if we lose Zelenka, we’re totally screwed. You can see that, right?”

  “Yes,” Jennifer said. “I can. His corrected vision is really borderline according to the regulations, and I’m going to keep on ignoring that, because we do need him.”

  “Great,” John said. “If that’s all, I have a busy day.” He could see her expression tighten at the sarcasm in his tone, and knew it wasn’t helping matters, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

  “Is that really how you want this?” She was keeping her voice low, but he suspected it was with an effort. “Do you think I haven’t noticed that there’s a little tension right now between Woolsey and Colonel Carter? How do you think Woolsey would like to hear that you’re going behind his back to get her to do you favors that he’s not supposed to know about?”

  “I really hope that’s not supposed to be a threat,” John said.

  All of a sudden he thought she looked more tired than angry. “It’s actually not,” she said. “I actually thought maybe we could talk about this like reasonable adults who are supposed to be on the same team. Was I wrong?”

  He eyed her coffee cup to avoid seeing her face. “You weren’t wrong.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me about this? It could have been handled discreetly.”

  He glanced back at her. “I didn’t think you’d be willing to play it that way.”

  “I’m not willing to keep people on active duty if in my professional opinion they’re a danger to themselves or others. That’s not every situation that breaks the rules.” She spread her hands. “Nobody is going to die because somebody has 20/30 vision rather than 20/20. I know on paper we have to draw a line somewhere, but I’m willing to use my judgment in what falls on which side of that line.”

  “I wasn’t sure,” John said.

  “You didn’t ask. There’s not a lot I can do to help people if they don’t trust me.”

  “Now you sound like Dr. Robinson.”

  “And that’s a big coincidence right there.”

  “My people are going to be kind of reluctant to bring things to either of you that they don’t want to go down on their permanent records,” John said. “It’s not that they don’t trust you. It’s that they don’t trust ‘the doctor.’”

  “That’s me,” Jennifer said. “I’m really not out to get anybody.”

  “It’s not just you,” John said. “It’s whoever reads your files. It’s guys back home who have no idea what we’re going through out here and who are just looking for some reason — ” He stopped, hands clenching, abruptly out of words.

  “I can run interference for you,” Jennifer said. “If somebody back on Earth wants to try to make trouble for me, I’m okay with that. The number of people who actually want this job is smaller than you’d think. But if I’m going to do that, you have to trust me to make the calls. And that means your people need to give me enough information to make them.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. “That’s fair.”

  “I think so,” Jennifer said. “Let’s try this again. I’ve looked at the results of Zelenka’s eye exam. With an updated prescription for corrective lenses, I think he’s fine to be on active duty. I may have accidentally neglected to make a note of precisely what his corrected vision score was, but I’m considering it acceptable.”

  “The IOA won’t like that much if they ever notice,” John said.

  “Since when do
es the IOA like anything?” She shook her head. “You let me worry about that.”

  “Okay,” John said. It was a relief to think that maybe he could. Jennifer seemed to be watching him, her expression rueful. “What?”

  “Atlantis has been my first experience treating military patients,” she said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know when there are special concerns.”

  “I don’t want people on active duty when they’re so burned out they’re going to get somebody hurt,” he said. “I also don’t want to end somebody’s career because they’ve had a rough week. Sometimes people just need a little time.”

  “Or a little help,” Jennifer said. “Even big tough military guys, right?”

  John smiled without humor. “We see all the most exciting parts.”

  She nodded with what looked like real sympathy. “I bet. You know, if people are having problems, I really want to see them. Or I want Dr. Robinson to see them. Let us figure out what we can do, and then we’ll figure out what the best thing is to put in people’s files.”

  He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  “Not exactly the most rousing vote of confidence I’ve ever heard,” she said dryly, “but right now I’ll take it.”

  “I trust you to keep us all from getting killed,” John said. “I’d probably be dead about five or six times otherwise.”

  “At least,” Jennifer said. “I don’t actually enjoy sewing you up, you know. It’s not my idea of a fun day at work.”

  “I thought it kept you from getting bored.”

  “If I get that bored, I’ll read a magazine,” she said. “Go on, go shoot things, or whatever you have on your busy schedule.” Her tone was dry rather than angry, though, and he smiled crookedly in return.

  “Training exercises. I’ll try not to send you any new patients.”

  “You do that,” she said. “I’m going to start charging extra for any injuries your guys inflict on each other.”

  “Just put it on my tab,” John said, and went to find that coffee.

  Chapter Thirty-one: Beneath the Surface

  The water was relentlessly cold, a full-body punch that made Lorne’s hands cramp almost as soon as he left the jumper. Dry suits made the dive bearable, but he had to wear light enough gloves to be able to do the actual repairs. He turned slowly in the water, making sure that Campbell and Green were ready to follow him, and then kicked off from the jumper’s side. They were both avid divers, while Lorne felt this wasn’t really his idea of a great way to spend the day.

  Below them, Lieutenant Miller was holding the jumper steady, its lights turned upward to illuminate the underside of the pier. It had been tempting to use the jumper’s shield to create a bubble of air for them to work in; it would have meant they could stay down longer without worrying about the cold. It would also have meant trying to keep the jumper steady right under the part of the city they were trying to repair. The idea was to avoid doing any more damage.

  Green was carrying a video camera, and she flipped it on as they approached the damaged section of the hull. They’d been down here with a camera mounted on the jumper to take video of the damage, and Zelenka had identified three sensor arrays that needed to be switched out. They’d brought all three replacements down with them, hoping not to have to do this again.

  “I am receiving your transmission,” Zelenka said. “Major Lorne, are you ready to proceed?”

  Lorne leaned into the camera’s field of view and gave a thumbs-up. He and Campbell approached the first damaged sensor array, steadying themselves on either side. The camera’s light was at a bad angle, throwing more shadows than anything; he took hold of Green’s arm and pushed her gently back, getting the light where he needed it.

  Campbell unfastened the first replacement from the back of Lorne’s suit. It wasn’t that big, a metal box with a sensor vane on one side, and on the other side, a row of control crystals that should slide into place easily once they got the damaged one out of the way. Or so Dr. Zelenka said.

  “You can see the mechanical damage to the sensor array,” Zelenka said. He certainly could. The sensor vane was crumpled, and one corner of the box was twisted up out of alignment with the city’s hull. “I’ve deactivated the power to the array, so try to gently pry it free. Gently, please.”

  Lorne found a screwdriver in one of his suit’s pockets and pried at the other corners. He wasn’t sure he was exactly being gentle, but he was making some progress. He wrapped his fingers around it and tugged, hoping it didn’t come free quickly enough to send him tumbling. It was possible he should clip on to something to brace himself, but he didn’t see anything to clip onto other than the sensor vane itself, which wasn’t very helpful.

  Green swiveled suddenly in the water, the video camera turning with her and throwing the box in front of him into shadow.

  “What are you doing?” Zelenka said into his radio. Lorne spread his hands, but since Zelenka couldn’t see him, it hardly mattered. Green turned the camera back toward him, and he shrugged one shoulder in a question.

  She spread her hands as if there were something she wanted to say but couldn’t, and pointed below them. He looked down. He didn’t see anything but the jumper, and if he put his back to the jumper, there was only dark ocean beyond the reach of the jumper’s lights.

  She shook her head and signaled ‘okay.’ Lorne hesitated. They could always scratch the mission, but he hated to have it all to do over again.

  “Lieutenant Miller says he is reading nothing on sensors but some life form readings, barely large enough for him to detect,” Zelenka said. “We have not had much chance to catalogue the ocean life on this world, though, so if you see anything that looks dangerous, it may be wise to return to the jumper.”

  Thanks for the advice, Lorne wanted to say. He nodded and tugged doggedly at the sensor array. It finally came free, and he managed to keep hold of it, waiting for Campbell to stow it on the back of his suit before he started edging the new one into place.

  “It should click into place,” Radek said. “We think.”

  He wasn’t sure it clicked, but it did at least fit, which was the first big step.

  “I’m going to initialize the sensor array,” Radek said. “It should first clear the water from around the crystals.” Lorne nodded. He could see bubbles in the water around the edges of the sensor array, which soon stopped. “Now we are turning the power on.”

  All along the sensor vane, small lights began to twinkle red. Lorne signed an enthusiastic thumbs-up for the camera.

  “Perfect,” Zelenka said. “Two more to go.”

  On the way from the second to the third, a flicker of colored light caught Lorne’s eye. He thought for a moment he’d gotten disoriented, somehow turned a circle in the water. The cold was starting to make his head ache, and his hands were nearly numb to the wrist. He looked up, reassuring himself that he was following the line of the pier, directly below it.

  He clapped Green on the shoulder and gave her a questioning look when she turned. She nodded and pointed down, flicking the camera’s light on and off pointedly. They were almost at the last sensor array; Lorne glided up to it and caught at the bent vane to stop his movement in the water, looking down.

  He couldn’t see anything past the jumper’s lights. When Green turned the camera on Lorne again, he pointed down toward the jumper and turned his own flashlight on, then pointedly off.

  “Lieutenant Miller says he is getting some indication that there may be a fairly large life sign approaching,” Zelenka said. “He is maybe a little concerned.”

  Wonderful. Lorne tugged experimentally at the damaged sensor array. It showed no signs of coming free easily. He was sure he saw another flicker of light somewhere in the murky darkness. He pantomimed turning off the jumper’s lights again.

  “You would like the jumper’s lights off?” Zelenka asked skeptically.

  Lorne nodded firmly. After a moment the jumper’s lights switched off. He turned off his own fl
ashlight, and after a long moment’s hesitation, Green switched off the camera light.

  It took a while for his eyes to adjust. He could see the dim light filtering down from the cloudy sky outside the shadow of the city. Beneath him, there were definite flickers of colored light moving in the darkness, and then brightening lights, like something rising toward him.

  “Miller feels that you should perhaps return to the jumper,” Zelenka said, and then exclaimed, startled into his native Czech, “Co to, do pekla, je? Gigantická chobotnice?”

  Lorne backpedeled instinctively as something rose in front of him, traced with patterns of light that shifted and merged. It looked like a gigantic squid, he realized after a moment, its upper body spread out like a hood in front of him, nearly twice his height. Its tentacles trailed far below it, a few tipped with light.

  It was glowing, soft white light chased with patterns of red, whole patches blinking out into darkness and then relighting themselves again. He couldn’t help a sense of fascination, even as he wondered what it ate and if he might look like food to it.

  “Okay, it is some sort of cephalopod,” Zelenka said. “The biologists will love this. You should probably not make any sudden moves.”

  Lorne wasn’t planning to. He turned the flashlight on experimentally, on the theory that might discourage the creature from sticking around, although he couldn’t help watching it in fascination.

  The tip of a tentacle rose toward him. He kicked backwards, wondering if he could actually get out of reach. Then it lit, the light playing over him like its own flashlight beam.

  To his left, Lorne could see Campbell prying the damaged sensor array loose. Lorne made a mental note to thank him for that. He motioned for Green to help him, and she unfastened the last replacement array from Campbell’s back with one hand, still filming with the other. Green let go of the damaged array and let it sink beneath them, which Lorne thought was forgivable under the circumstances.

  He thought he could see the thing’s eyes, or what passed for its eyes, dark patches that turned to follow his movements. He turned the flashlight experimentally off and then back on. The tentacle went dark, and then lit again.