RATING: PG
SEASON: Season 5
MAJOR CHARACTERS: McKay and Sheppard
DISCLAIMERS: The characters, Atlantis, etc, all belong to Sony, MGM, Gecko, Showtime, the Sci-Fi
Channel.
SUMMARY: Sheppard is up late when he hears McKay on the radio, needing help.
FEEDBACK: Yes please! comments and suggestions
are greatly appreciated.
NOTE: This story was in response to the 2009 SGA Genficathon: prompts
Friendship and
"A Cry for Help"
DATE: June 12, 2009
Lift
By NotTasha - lift me up, before you go-go
PART 1: UP AT NIGHT
It
was late. The nightshift roamed, but for the most part, Atlantis slept.
Sheppard felt the quiet of the place, the sleepy silence that infiltrated nearly
every room but his own.
He was tired. His team had just come off another god-awful mission, and he
really needed the rest. He needed to clear his mind and shake off that
mess. His head felt weighted. His eyes were scratchy. His
limbs ached from long days of movement and work. Still, sleep wouldn't
find him.
So, he sat up in bed and tried to read "Anna Karenina". "War and
Peace" had brought him through his first year in Atlantis, so he had a
strange fondness for Tolstoy, but he turned the pages without really reading
them.
His mind tumbled as his radio kept him company. He listened to the night
shift making their regular checks -- scientists calling in progress on
experiments or voicing requests to the control room, marines announcing their
locations on patrol. Everyone sounded bored.
It was comforting, in a way. Everything was normal. Everything was
peaceful. The broadcast offered little entertainment.
Sheppard kept trying to read, kept trying to sleep or simply relax.
A marine, a man with the unlikely name of Sgt. Uldis Woodrow, piped up on the
radio, "Hey, does anyone ever wonder
why 'fridge' is spelled with a D in it, but if you spell 'refrigerator', there's
no D?"
Another voice responded with an unintelligent sounding, "Huh?"
Uldis went on, "I was just stopping
by the mess hall and someone put a sign on the cooler where we keep our
leftovers. It says that they're going to clean out the fridge in the
morning, and it got me wondering. Why the D in 'fridge'? We
don't really pronounce it. It makes no sense!"
Sheppard touched his mic. "Woodrow…"
The tone of the marine's voice changed considerably as he responded, "Yes,
sir!"
"Aren't you supposed to be on Gate duty?" Sheppard chided.
"Yes, sir," Uldis
replied sharply. "I'm sorry,
sir. Sgt. Martin is there already, and I just stopped by to pick up the
rest of my sandwich from lunch -- a little something to keep me alert. It
won't happen again."
Sheppard yawned a little, and told him, "I'll count on that."
There was quiet for a moment before a new voice was heard. "Sheppard?
You're awake?"
John shook his head. "Unless I'm talking in my sleep, McKay… yes,
I'm awake."
"Oh. Do you think you can
switch to a private channel for a minute?" Rodney asked
nonchalantly, but there was something tingeing his request – not an 'urgency'
really, but some sense of need. The man was terrible at hiding anything.
"Yeah, switching," Sheppard said, jumping to the private channel he
usually used, then after a pause, asked, "What's up?"
"Ah, you think you can come to the
north pier for a moment?"
"North pier?" Sheppard echoed as he sat up fully, using a bookmark to
hold his place. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Shouldn't you, too?" McKay
bit back.
Sheppard smiled slightly as he settled the book on his bedside table.
"I'm very comfortable in my room, on my bed."
"Fully dressed," McKay
surmised.
Sheppard didn't admit it. "I ordered some downtime for the
team," he stated as he pulled on his boots. "You're supposed to
be relaxing."
"Well," McKay responded.
"I just wanted to … do something
and…" There was a weary sigh. "Can
you just come out here?"
"I'll have to think about it," Sheppard told him as he stood and
immediately left the room – the door snicking shut behind him.
"It'll only take a minute."
A desperate whine had crept into Rodney's voice.
Sheppard kept moving. "You couldn't call for someone who's on
duty?"
There was another sigh, and then a quiet, "I
just need a little help. I didn't want… I didn't want to make a big deal
about it."
"Fine, okay," Sheppard said, sounding annoyed as he moved along the
corridor. "I'm coming." His feet beat a quick cadence as he stalked
toward the transporter. There seemed no reason to rush, but Sheppard found
himself moving quickly anyway. Finally! Something to do.
"North pier?" Sheppard repeated.
"Tower 17," Rodney told him.
"At the top."
"Really?" Sheppard paused. "You got someone there
with you?"
"No!" McKay snapped. "If
someone was here, I wouldn't need the help, would I? So, could you, you
know, help?"
"What the heck," Sheppard replied as he stepped toward the
transporter. "Might as well."
oOoOoOoOoOo
Tower 17 on the north pier had been an enigma -- a big boring enigma. It was the tallest tower on that arm of Atlantis, a narrow tall spire with a room at the top, a large bay at the bottom and nothing in-between.PART 2: FREE FALL
The
wall streaked away around them. Metal shrieked. Falling. They
were falling!
Sheppard looked quickly, finding McKay on his side, turned away, shouting, and
clutching at his shoulder. Sheppard
could only see Rodney's broad back.
He hadn't been fast enough! He hadn't been able to free his friend in
time, and the arm had been sheared right off.
Oh God, oh God no!
The screeching of metal intensified. The floor shuddered violently,
wobbling and swaying as it tried to slow down.
They were falling falling falling.
McKay yelled as he twisted on the floor. Sheppard rolled onto his stomach,
fighting to move, desperate to reach Rodney.
John's heart flip-flopped from the drop and the possibilities.
No blood, Sheppard thought anxiously
as he watched McKay. There'd be fountains of blood if they'd just ripped
off Rodney's arm.
McKay rolled onto his back and drew the intact arm to his chest. He met Sheppard's gaze with wide eyes.
Wind whipped past them. Fear was quickly replaced with
determination as Rodney turned toward the central pillar.
The column blurred. The platform shot downward, wobbling, bucking,
screeching and shedding sparks.
They weren't exactly plummeting, but it was pretty darn close. Some sort
of mechanical system was trying to slow them – but they weren't stopping.
Bad. This was bad.
"Get us stopped!" Sheppard shouted as McKay rolled over and crawled
across the falling platform.
Rodney shot Sheppard a furious look. "What do you think I'm trying to
do?" he yelled as kept moving. Sheppard shuffled his way around,
meeting up with McKay just as the scientist grasped for a control panel that sat
on a post, nearly flush with the column.
They had to stop this decent. Stop! Sheppard
thought, trying to activate a mental component. Stop!
Stop, you stupid son of a bitch falling floor! Stop!
Groping, McKay touched a control. Lights flashed, and then a keeling wail
sounded all around them. Sheppard reached for his ears, trying to blot out
the sound as the braking system was strained to its limits. Then, with a huge
thump, the platform stopped.
McKay was thrown back to the ground, and Sheppard barely managed to remain
raised on his knees.
Stopped.
For a second or two, they said nothing, listening as the platform groaned, and
inched downward a little further. Then, silence. They sat in the
glow that emanated from the floor.
The light, coming from below, made Rodney look like a clichéd movie villain.
A line of blood ran down from his nose where he'd smacked it on the floor.
"You okay?" Sheppard asked.
McKay was panting, gasping for breath as his eyes found Sheppard's.
"Yeah. You?"
"I'm not dead," Sheppard responded.
"Yeah," McKay replied as his wide eyes scanned the area.
"What the hell? What the hell was that?" He shouted the words as if he
wanted to be furious with some specific person. Certainly, someone was at
fault. He rubbed at his nose with his remaining jacket sleeve, and
looked disgusted to see the blood. Reminded of his near 'disarming', he
jerked his attention to the other arm, finding it bare, but otherwise entire.
Even the sweater had been removed, probably more torn away then cut.
"I could have lost an arm!" he shouted.
"I know," Sheppard said, as he carefully stood.
"Or have been left dangling." McKay looked upward, "God, I
could be hanging up there by one arm." He looked tortured at the
thought of it.
"Is this platform okay now?" Sheppard asked.
Rodney rubbed his arm dolefully, his eyes fixed on some distant spot above their
heads. "That would hurt like a son of a bitch." He shook
his head, looking miserable. "Bet the sides of that hole would have
sawn right through my armpit – inch by excruciating inch – cutting right
through my shoulder socket eventually. Then,
I'd just fall."
Sheppard gave the platform a substantial stomp.
McKay's gaze shot toward him. "Knock it off! Are you trying to
kill us?"
"Wanted to make sure it was safe."
"That really is not the way!" McKay fumed. "How can you
even think 'safe'? Didn't we
just plunge about fifty stories? It's a miracle that we're not both moist
splatters at the bottom of the tower!" He daubed at his nose with his one
sleeve, and then pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding. He
winced as he pressed. "Bet they wouldn't even be able to tell us
apart."
"Yeah, they would," Sheppard told him. "You have that horrible orange jacket.
They all know I'd never wear something like that." He looked upward. Far above, a circle of light centered over them.
He tried to calculate how far they'd fallen.
Fifty stories? Probably not – but it was a good long way.
McKay moved judiciously, first to his hands and knees, then, shakily, he made
his way to one knee before he found the courage to stand entirely.
"That sucked!" he uttered.
"Yeah," Sheppard remarked.
McKay leaned over the control panel. He poked a few controls and then
said, "It should be good now. Emergency brakes are fully
engaged." He shook his head as he gazed at the platform beneath them.
"This must have been some sort of lift."
"More like a 'fall',"
Sheppard quipped, getting a groan from McKay. "What was it used for?
There's nothing at the top of this tower worth the trouble. Just big
windows and lots of sea air."
McKay nodded. "Yeah, I think I know the reason for that."
He rubbed his shoulder. "I bet I tore my rotator cuff. I hear that it
takes months to recover from something like that." With a
disconcerted look he cradled the arm in the other. "I can't be out of
commission for that long."
"Why did the Ancients build a big stupid elevator carnival ride without
decent brakes?" John tried another question.
"It wasn't supposed to work like that. Someone must have disengaged
the safety systems."
"Yeah, someone messing with the control crystal maybe?" Sheppard
reminded.
McKay gave him a haughty look. "That is a strong possibility,"
he stated, lifting his chin and making the comment sound like an accusation
instead of an admission.
"Can you get the elevator to go up?"
"Not on your life," McKay replied, looking anxiously at the control
panel. He held one hand over it, as if considering touching something
else. "With some work, yes, it would work again. But, I think
we're better off keeping this platform right where it is for now."
Sheppard nodded, and then touched his radio. "Sgt. Woodrow," he
called. "Have you made it back from the cafeteria yet?"
There was a squawk of interference and then a fuzzy response, "Colonel?
Yes, sir. I am at my post." A slight pause, and then, "Where are you? Your transmission is garbled."
"We're going to need some help. Dr. McKay and I have managed to
get ourselves stuck in the elevator in Tower 17," Sheppard responded.
"What? It's hard to hear you,
sir. Did you say you were in an elevator? Did you say Tower
17?"
"Yes, Woodrow, Tower 17," Sheppard said tiredly, not wanting to go
into it any further.
McKay cut in, "We are inside the tower. I repeat, inside the tower on
a massive elevator platform. Did you know that a good part of the upper
floor goes down? It's rather amazing. Amazing and terrifying."
"Uldis, can you get a team up to the top with some rappelling equipment?
I don't know how else you're going to get us out."
"Yes, sir," Uldis responded.
"I'm on it."
Sheppard added, "Bring a lot of rope."
"Will do, sir. Woodrow
out."
McKay looked up unhappily. "We have to go up?" he asked,
pointing. "That's a long way. You know I don't do well with
those things." He made hand and feet motions as if he were climbing
using a harness. "And with my shoulder," he added, gripping his
arm. "It just isn't a good idea."
"I'll get Uldis to bring something for you. They'll haul you up like
Toto in Dorothy's basket."
"Great," McKay responded, not sounding happy.
Sheppard moved slowly around the platform. "So, were you going to
tell me what this tower was for?"
"I suspect it's for launching gliders," McKay responded, moving his
arm judiciously. "The Ancients were studying air currents from the
tower. I found some information in the database about it. Didn't
understand why that mattered. I found designs for simple gliders in
another computer system. Didn't put them together until now because, how
were they going to get the finished gear up to that room? The transporter
couldn't handle the size of materials needed."
"That's why they created the elevator," Sheppard said softly.
"Yeah, elevator," McKay echoed. "The lower bay seemed to be
set up for construction."
Sheppard frowned. "Why would they want gliders when they had
jumpers?"
"I have no idea. Maybe they were for low-tech mountain societies that
needed transportation. Maybe it was just for weekend fun."
McKay shrugged. "You can never know for sure with those Ancients."
He had a point.
Feeling tired, Sheppard lowered himself to the platform again. He looked
up as McKay tentatively sat down beside him.
Sheppard turned down his radio because the interference was annoying.
McKay sniffled and pressed the bridge of his nose, then rubbed his sore arm and
blinked at the floor. The bleeding seemed to have mostly stopped.
The platform, thankfully, did nothing.
"Hell of a day," McKay finally said to break the quiet.
Sheppard snorted.
"After surviving Obra, we nearly bought it in some freak elevator
accident," McKay continued. "God, imagine if you hadn't gotten
me freed in time? What a horrible way to go. One moment, I'm all find and
dandy, the next – I'd have my arm jerked off at the root. Either that, or I manage to kill us both in free fall."
"Your arm wouldn't have been jerked off," Sheppard said, trying to
sound convincing. "I got here in time. You stopped the elevator from
falling, so it turned out okay. Everything is okay."
Rodney's brow furrowed as said softly, "I'm not sure the Jerons feel the
same."
At the mention, Sheppard looked away as well. "Hell of a day,"
he mumbled.
PART 3: RAINING DOWN
A
few days earlier, they had traveled to Jero. The
mission had started off well enough. They'd received a
request for assistance from the people of Jero -- a cry for help. Their
town had been inundated with a winter flood, and hundreds were left homeless.
Atlantis came to the rescue.
Their city, built alongside a river, had been completely flooded. Miles
and miles of fertile fields were underwater. Homes were submerged.
Mud coated everything above the waterline.
The Jerons didn't want to leave their native home. They'd withstood Wraith
attacks throughout the centuries and had fought hard for what they had.
The flood was a freak occurrence – a combination of heavy snowpack in the
mountains and frozen earth in the lowlands, followed by a warm weather system
that dumped too much rain, melted too much snow.
The Atlantians were finally able to sway the leaders, and get the Jerons to
consider moving to a new place, on a new planet. It would be just like
home! It would be better than home.
So the databases were searched. Several possibilities were considered, but
Sheppard made the final decision -- a planet culled a year earlier. There
would be acres of farmland, ready for the taking. Houses and barns and a
river and orchards. The previous inhabitants had been at a similar level
of advancement.
Just like home.
Teyla and Ronon had warned that many people in the Pegasus Galaxy felt that a
culled city had bad juju associated with it. The Jerons would not go
happily.
"But, it's an excellent location," McKay had commented.
"And because it's already culled, the Wraith won't be stopping by for a
long time. It's like a free pass. The Jerons will have everything
they need."
"I agree with what you are saying, but the Wraith culled Obra in its
entirety," Teyla reminded. "This is an ill omen. The
Wraith rarely would do such a thing to a civilization. The Jerons will
feel that the original inhabitants were punished for some reason."
John had stated, "What happened on Obra was probably out of hunger, not
retribution."
"Still," Ronon commented. "Nobody's going to want to live
there."
"They've got a point," McKay admitted. "It's like those
freaky houses in horror films. A whole family gets murdered, and someone
else moves in and everyone's surprised that evil entities lurk around.
Then some idiot goes into the basement and WHAMMO!"
Sheppard sneered at Rodney. "Come on! Nice houses? Farmland?
Even freakin' river views? Everything they could want is already there.
They've lost just about everything on their homeworld, and they can't stay there
anymore."
McKay had nodded. Ronon and Teyla agreed with the logic, but realized it
would be a tough sell.
There were further talks as the Jerons stood firm, refusing the new property.
Their resolve broke when the rains continued and the river rose further.
Whole hillsides sloughed away, burying their beloved city in tons of mud.
They could have stayed on their own planet and just move away from this ruined
land, but they needed access to the Gate and their trading partners.
They'd starve without the ability to barter – and they didn't want handouts
from Atlantis.
Finally, they agreed to a compromise. It would be a temporary move.
The Jerons would 'camp' at the new location until the flooding stopped, until
the waters receded and their land dried out. They could return and rebuild
what was lost.
And this morning, the big move occurred. Several teams from Atlantis
arrived at Jero, to find the soaked people waiting with their carts and packs,
with their farm animals and the little salvaged things that had made their
houses into homes. They waited in the rain.
The teams from Atlantis came in as heroes, with puffed up chests and confident
steps, ushering the Jerons out of the gray dampness. The people put the
rain behind them as they stepped onto a new planet where the sun shone, dappling
the river. The air was sweet with springtime. Dry, inviting homes
were already stocked with firewood and furniture. It was warm and
beautiful.
There were Ancient structures, too. The Obras had built right on top of a
ruined outpost, utilizing what had been left behind by the Ancestors to support
their homes.
McKay skittered from one ruin to another, eager to discover whatever he could.
The displaced people had decided that they would set up tents in the main square
instead of using the existing structures. They were, after all, just
camping until they could return to their homes. That plan quickly fell to
the wayside as Jerons poked their noses into empty homes, just to see what they
were like.
The homes were nice. The homes were empty and just waiting for someone to
move in. It would be a shame to let them remain idle. Some people
started staking out claims on the empty buildings.
And once a few started, the rest followed.
And soon the people from Atlantis were trying to settle disputes when so-in-so
got the bigger house, and whats-his-name wanted whozit to move his
donkey-animal-thing out of his yard.
How did we get stuck with this job? Sheppard
had thought.
It was getting to the end of a long day. Sheppard was struggling to
disentangle himself from a pair of feuding sisters who had found a bauble in one
of the cottages. Both instantly coveted it. They'd handed it over to
him to make the decision for them, and both were pleading their cases for far
too long.
Sheppard decided it was time to leave.
The Jerons would be fine. There town was perfect and the new inhabitants
needed to settle in and figure out how to live here.
With a rueful expression, he handed the necklace to Ronon and told him to slice
it in two. If he was forced to play Solomon, he was going to take a lesson
or two from the guy.
Ronon had shrugged as he accepted the piece of jewelry and laid it on a rock
wall. The sisters shrieked in horror as he raised his sword. And
Teyla leaned closer to get a good look at it.
"John," she had said, meeting his gaze with an urgent expression.
"This jewel is similar to the one I had as a child, the necklace that you
found on the day we met."
Sheppard stepped closer, and felt his heart sink. He hadn't even looked at
the jewelry when the sisters had turned it over to him. It was exactly
like the one Teyla has recovered years ago -- the pretty little necklace with a
tracking device.
His touch had activated Teyla's jewel, and he glanced at his hand, reminded that
he'd recently held this new one.
"Smash it!" he ordered Ronon.
Ronon complied wordlessly, instantly shattering the piece, sending the sisters
into hysterics, but Sheppard already knew it was too late.
A cry came over his radio from one of the marines, "The Gate is
activating!" And then, "Wraith darts!"
Ronon and Teyla drew their weapons. Sheppard turned, expecting to find
McKay where he'd last seen him -- near one of the larger town buildings.
But, the scientist was gone. "McKay!" he shouted over his radio.
There was no response.
Great! Great, McKay! Freakin'
wander off right now!
Sheppard sent Ronon and Teyla to do what they could to protect the terrified
Jerons as he sought McKay, ducking and dodging as darts screamed overhead.
Where the hell are you, McKay,
Sheppard thought, hearing the culling beams searing through the air.
"Rodney!" he shouted. "Rodney!"
All around, people were screaming, shouting for their loved ones and running.
He could feel the rising terror, could hear it in their voices as the Jerons
dashed about in the unfamiliar town, trying to find a safe place.
"Rodney!" Where the hell did he go?
And then he heard a plaintive, "HELP!"
Ronon's distinctive blaster sounded nearby, followed by the bark of Teyla's P90.
The marines were adding their firepower to the effort.
People still shouted, still tried to escape.
"Rodney!" He dodged around another building, leaped over some
sort of trough and ran past a barn. Nearby, a Wraith dart exploded in the
sky as Ronon scored a direct hit. Wreckage rained down, whistling and
burning as it fell.
"Sheppard! Help!" McKay called again.
Around the barn, and Sheppard finally spotted him. McKay was wedged under
an archway, some old ruin of an Ancient building, and was otherwise entirely
exposed in an open pasture.
"Sheppard!" he shouted again when he finally spotted John, and he
grinned a little. The expression fell as another dart sped overhead.
"I can't get out of here. I'm trapped!"
With a shake of his head, Sheppard shouted, "Let me get into better
position," Sheppard shouted. "I'll cover you."
He dashed into the open, only to come to a rapid halt when McKay shouted a
frantic, "Stop! Culling beam!"
John stumbled backward, almost falling as the beam sliced just in front of him,
cutting so close he swore he could feel it on his skin. His vision was
swallowed up with the strange shimmering colors. The uncanny bolt of light
continued onward, and he looked up, meeting McKay's terrified glance.
A wave of relief seemed to come over McKay as he realized Sheppard was still
standing, and he muttered a quiet, "Thank God."
"Run!" Sheppard shouted, lifting his P90.
And McKay ran, ducking his head, clutching his own weapon tightly as he dashed
across the open space.
Sheppard fired, keeping another dart at bay as McKay rushed past him. He
kept on it as the ship wheeled around to come back at him, and was grateful when
McKay joined him in the onslaught, firing into the flying object for all they
were worth.
The dart erupted in a fireball as it soared over them. Parts flew from the
ship, crashing down around them. They
ducked as it twisted, losing altitude until it disappeared beyond the roofs of
the town, and the ground shook when the craft blasted into the ground.
"Come on!" Sheppard shouted, and they ran, following the path that
he'd just covered, back to the row of houses.
There were fewer people now, and Sheppard prayed that the Jerons had found
hiding places. And then, just as they reached the others, the darts were
gone, disappearing back through the Gate, leaving Sheppard breathless.
Gone. Apparently, the Wraith had had enough.
He smiled a little as he looked from Ronon to Teyla, and then met Rodney's eyes.
Yeah!
And it was quiet – no darts screeching, no gunfire, no screaming for help.
Sheppard quickly radioed his people, taking a role call. Everyone
was still present.
In all, they'd brought down four darts. Pretty impressive. The
Wraith had been soundly whipped! Later, he learned that the departing
darts had taken a third of the Jerons with them.
Mostly-full carts were left beside scattered baskets and baggage. Pack
animals milled around without owners. Large boxes sat near recently
reclaimed houses. Children hid, peeping cautiously from windows.
Adults ran about, their arms loose at their sides, calling out names, nearly
running into each other in their desperation.
Gone. People were just gone.
And then it was quiet again – only the soft wailing of those that had lost,
and the murmuring assurances of those that tried to comfort.
The Jerons left Obra immediately, taking their already packed possessions with
them. They sought out acquaintances on other planets, trading partners,
who might take them in. They had to split up. They might make it
home someday. Some might never see each other again.
The teams from Atlantis helped them as much as they were able, but the Jerons
just wanted to leave. Their eyes were empty and their faces bleak as they
stepped through the event horizon again, hoping for better luck away from this
cursed town.
Even the Ancient ruins proved worthless. Just one more reason to put this
day behind them.
It was a hell of a day -- one crap-load of a day.
PART
4: UP
Sheppard sat on that elevator platform, stuck mid-way down the tower, staring at
the wall.
If he hadn't convinced the Jerons that the planet was safe, if he hadn't rung
the dinner gong, the displaced people wouldn't be at the mercy of the Wraith
now, wouldn't be split up.
If Atlantis had just left them alone as they'd originally wished, the Jerons
would be cold, wet and muddy, but alive.
How many times had this happened already? How many times had they tried to
help, and only ended up hurting?
Beside him, McKay sniffled, drawing his sleeve to his nose again. Sheppard
turned, realizing that Rodney was watching him.
"I hate nosebleeds," McKay commented.
Sheppard grunted in response as he turned away.
Too many people had died because of their interference. It wasn't as if
they'd tried to cause harm to anyone, but why did it have to turn out so badly?
"My arm still hurts," McKay continued, still watching him..
"I think I dislocated it." He raised and lowered the shoulder a
few more times.
"Huh," was Sheppard's response.
"Have you ever seen 'Kill Bill'? Did you see what happened when
anyone got a body part hacked off?"
Fountains of blood, Sheppard thought,
realizing why that particular image had come to him earlier.
"There were fountains of blood spurting out," McKay said.
"Pretty cool movie."
It was.
"Ninja women make everything better," McKay added with a grin.
Rodney was right.
"Ninjas, fast cars, dinosaurs and zombies make good movies," McKay
went on.
True.
"I don't know about you, but I could really use a good movie. I hope
we get some with the next shipment -- maybe 'Shaun of the Dead' or something
like that. Did you hear that someone is making a movie called 'Pride and
Prejudice and Zombies'?"
Sheppard looked up sharply at McKay, and seriously wondered where McKay got his
information.
"There's another one coming out called 'Pride and Predator'."
"No way in hell," Sheppard mumbled.
"It's true!"
"It's not."
"It is so true. And, okay,
I don't know anything more than the titles, but why'd it take so damn long for
them to finally make chick lit interesting, huh?" He turned his head
slightly toward Sheppard. "I mean, who watches that hoity-toity Jane
Austen stuff? Women seem to like it, but…"
"I don't think Teyla would," Sheppard commented.
McKay let out a long sigh. "Jennifer is always talking about how she
has this tradition with these old friends of hers. Whenever they get
together, they all gather 'round and watch 'Pride and Prejudice'. It's
like 20 hours long or something, and they spend the whole time swooning over
some guy named Darcy." His voice rose with an incredulous tone.
Rodney kept talking, "There was this girl named Darcy in my elementary
school." He lowered his voice, saying, "She had 'issues'.
She used to eat paste."
Sheppard shrugged. "I ate paste."
"Well, who hasn't?" McKay stated. "Darcy ate a LOT of
paste. If you wanted any chance of finishing an art project, you had to
hide that stuff like it was gold, otherwise Paste-y McSticky would find it and
go to town. She spread it on bread! Some of my best work never saw
the light of day because of her." He
sniffled again. "Wasted.
So much good artwork wasted."
Sheppard chuckled a little.
"Maybe this Zombies version of Austen will be something I can sit through.
It's gotta spice things up the whole boring story a bit, don't you think?
I mean, the lady-folk will all be sitting around, discussing dresses or hats and
suddenly WHAM… zombies. The undead come crashing through the garden
window and someone gets their face eaten."
"Zombie Darcy would be interesting," Sheppard said thoughtfully.
"Exactly! And Zombie Darcy would be so totally NOT HOT!" McKay
shot back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pleased.
"Who's sexy with rotting flesh? "
Sheppard laughed a little. "It really isn't a good look for
anyone."
Rodney let out a long sigh. "Anyway, it will probably be a while
before we can see the movies. They're not even out yet. Maybe both will bomb and come out on DVD right away."
"We can only hope. Considering the titles, there's a strong
possibility," Sheppard responded.
"Yeah, you're right." McKay sighed again, and stretched his legs out.
"But we're getting both of them as soon as they're out," Sheppard
proclaimed.
"Definitely," McKay responded. "I just need something
new," he said. He screwed up his face a moment as he considered his
next comment.
Sheppard said nothing, waiting him out.
Finally, McKay stated, "That's why I was up there." He gestured
upward, indicated the room above them. "I needed something to do.
I couldn't stand to be in my room tonight, doing nothing. I thought it would be
nice to be up there, just looking at the stars. I've always loved the stars."
Sheppard turned toward McKay again, watching him in profile. He hadn't
noticed it before, but Rodney looked tired – dead tired.
"I know just about everything about them," Rodney continued in a quiet
voice. "There's something
comforting about that."
Sheppard could understand that.
The scientist leaned back, resting his head against the column. "I
just wish," he paused a moment before continuing. "I just wish
that I could do something that worked out perfectly."
He smiled a little at that word. "I'm good," he said.
"I'm really really good. My intelligence is, well, light-years ahead
of nearly everyone in the galaxy." He gestured as he spoke, and
glanced to Sheppard. "I'm just stating facts, and not bragging or
anything."
"God forbid," Sheppard deadpanned.
"It's just that… It seems ages since I did anything that was a total
success." And he let out a long sigh as he stared across the little
room. "People die…because of my ideas." His voice trailed off,
but then became stronger as he stated, "I just wanted to figure out this
room. I couldn't even do that right."
"Well," Sheppard tried. "You did figure it out."
"And as usual, something went horribly wrong. We could have fallen to
our deaths, and now we're stuck in this little room!" Rodney blinked
and said quietly, "The walls aren't moving closer, are they?" He
cringed closer to the pillar.
"The walls are not moving," Sheppard reassured. "We're not
moving."
"Because if I look at the walls just right, they seem to be closing
in," McKay said, his voice sounding small.
"Do you still have the data on those gliders?"
McKay frowned at the question. "Obviously," he said.
"Do you think the plans would work?" Sheppard asked. He nodded
upward. "If we can get this elevator working again…"
"Of course, I can get the elevator working!" McKay responded.
"Once you got that, do you think we can launch a glider or two from up
there?"
"It might be foolhardy, but…" McKay's eyes darted as his mind
worked. "…it certainly seems possible." He leaned
forward, his hands moving. "The designs were very … yes. Yes,
we probably could. And I've had some pretty impressive theories about how
to improve them."
Rodney grinned, and some of the weariness seemed to leave him. He snapped
his fingers. "And I know just where to get the materials. There
was this storeroom not far from the base of this tower. I bet everything
we need is right there." He looked smug. "It's totally
possible."
"Great," Sheppard responded. "Once we get out of here, we
can start planning."
And Rodney's eyes narrowed as his brain worked. "Have you ever flown
a glider?" the scientist asked.
Sheppard felt some of his own exhaustion lessen at the idea of flying – just
gilding on the breeze. In his career, he'd flown just about everything
imaginable and a few things that were unimaginable – ultra-lights,
an old Jenny, a Cessna, a Harrier Jump Jet, F-15s, Blackhawks, space battleships
and even a freakin' a moon.
Gliders were different animals. There was a peacefulness to them.
One had to be constantly aware of the air currents, to be quiet and calm.
One had to trust in lift.
"I've flown a few," Sheppard stated.
McKay bit his lip. "It's not dangerous, is it? Because,
well…" he fluttered a hand. "I have this fear of heights
thing."
"Heights aren't a problem, Rodney," Sheppard said.
"Going up isn't what's going to kill you."
"It's the 'down' that I worry about," Rodney admitted.
Sheppard went on, "It'll be fine. You design the gliders, and I'll
fly 'em. I'll take you up.
It'll be cool."
"Yeah, really cool," McKay said, smiling.
"Sir!" A voice cut in, called from above. "Sir?
Are you down there? We're here to help."
Sheppard craned his head. Uldis Woodrow leaned over the hole at the top of
the shaft, little more than a silhouette.
"We're here, Sergeant," John shouted in return.
"Sheppard?" That was Ronon's voice. His outline was
impossible to confuse with anyone else. What was he doing up at this hour?
Uldis wouldn't have awakened him. "You okay?" the big man asked.
The smaller shape that joined them was, undoubtedly, Teyla.
"We're okay," Sheppard yelled back.
"I hurt my arm!" McKay countered.
"Rodney?" Teyla called, sounding anxious at this news.
"He'll be fine," Sheppard assured, and gave McKay a little punch in
the 'injured' arm. Rodney flinched and glared at him.
"And my nose," Rodney added, pointing to his no-longer-bleeding nose.
"I banged it pretty hard on the floor."
There was a pause, and Sheppard could picture Teyla's smile as she called back,
"I am sorry to hear about your nose, Rodney."
"You and me both," Rodney replied, then quietly, probably because he
realized the ridiculous of it, he added, "Tore my sleeve off, too."
And he touched the ruined fabric.
"How far down are you?" Ronon questioned from above.
"You're going to have to figure that one out," Sheppard replied.
"Let's start with 'a long long way down'."
"Use a Life Sign Detector," McKay commented. "You should be
able to figure distance from that."
"Right," Sgt. Woodrow replied, and turned way from the hole, probably
to locate someone in his group that had the gene and the necessary device.
"We'll get you lifted out," Ronon assured, and his shape disappeared
from above, probably to confer with the rest of the rescue team. Teyla's
silhouette remained.
"That marine's name really is Uldis?" McKay questioned quietly.
"What kind of name is that?"
"I have an uncle named Uldis," Sheppard responded.
McKay frowned as if he wanted to contest this fact, but he looked up, and asked
Sheppard, "Why does 'fridge' have
a D in it?"
And Sheppard answered in a serious tone, "I have no idea."
McKay continued to look upward as Sheppard watched him.
"They'll get us out," Sheppard assured.
"Yeah," Rodney responded, clenching his hands nervously at his sides.
"It really is a long long way up, isn't it?"
"About these gliders…" Sheppard started.
THE END
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