The Paradox of Tristram Shandy (2/2) (PG)
Title: The Paradox of Tristram Shandy (2/2)
Author: paradise_city
Beta: Many thanks to leaper182 for her excellent beta work and invaluable QL knowledge.
Characters: Sam, Al, John, Rodney gen
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For SGA's "Trinity" (02x06).
Written for: jayel_fox, who asked for Trinity: "Every time he thinks he's fixed it, it only gets worse." I also tried to work in her other prompts (Sam/Rodney professional relationship and a paranoid John in the waiting room); they're all there in some way except for the Goa'uld (don't watch SG-1, sorry!)
Summary: Some plans require a Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros, a Leon Spinks, and the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever. All John, Rodney, Sam, and Al need is a Millennium Falcon.
Part 1
Sam didn't know the leap had begun until it was already over. The first thing he felt was a sensation of movement and speed, then vertigo, then blinding pain. He gasped for breath, trying to cry out, but his lungs were working fast and hard and every breath was a struggle. He tasted the panic rising in the back of his throat, felt the shocky spread of adrenaline through his body, and forced himself to breathe slowly and shallowly while he tried to figure out where the hell he was.
When he did, he realized he wasn't dying. He'd just been busy running. And then, apparently, busy falling.
On his face.
Or, more precisely, on his nose. It throbbed in protest and Sam was only mildly placated when he felt gingerly for blood and didn't find any.
He rolled over (legs tired, right elbow smarting), groaned (voice high and nasal), patted himself down (tall, lanky, sweaty, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts), and caught sight of the indoor hallway he'd been running in. It looked disappointingly familiar, like cheap sci-fi.
Sam closed his eyes hard, counted to ten, and opened them again, tentatively.
Still the same hallway. And then he could feel it, could feel (John's) presence again, somehow occupying the same space as his own.
Luckily, he knew what to do in this situation. He closed his eyes and whimpered. "Oh, boy."
"Sir?" A tentative voice asked.
Sam (John) opened one eye, and looked at the bulky solider (Marine) standing over him. "You okay, sir?"
"Uh, yes," he said. "Fine. I'm fine."
"You sure? Should I call Dr. Beckett?"
"What?"
"Dr. Beckett. Do you need a medic, sir?"
Confused and disoriented, Sam thought, I'm Dr. Beckett, but John was thinking (Carson).
Great. Two Dr. Becketts. There was a lot Sam was willing to put with for a leap, but this was not one of them. This (space)town was only big enough for one Dr. Beckett, and Sam was it. He laughed.
"Sir?" The Marine (Lorne) was starting to look genuinely alarmed.
"I'm fine, Major," he said. "Really. I was just...taking a rest. Enjoying the view. There's no need to bother the doc."
"If you're sure, sir."
"I'm sure." Sam (John) waved vaguely. "Go on about your business."
"Can I at least give you a hand up?"
"No. I think I'll stay here for a moment. I'm, uh, not done enjoying the view."
Lorne grinned and looked up at the plain white ceiling. "And a fine view it is, sir."
"That it is, Major. That it is."
Lorne still looked a skeptical, but he tipped Sam (John) a jaunty salute and went on his way. Eventually, Sam (John) picked himself up off the floor and returned to his (John's) quarters. He was weighing a shower against mapping out the current timeline when there was a knock at his door. It slid open to reveal Rodney, rumpled and brimming over with weariness, but determined just the same.
Well. That answered that question.
"You here to talk about Doranda?" Sam (John) asked.
Rodney was momentarily flustered. "Actually, I was here to talk about Harry K. Daghlian."
Sam (John) nodded. "The scientist. Worked on the Manhattan Project at Los Alamos. Irradiated himself at twenty-six, working on two half-spheres of plutonium. He worked until his death to understand what had happened to him so that others could learn from it. Am I close?"
Rodney pressed his lips into a tight line. "Yes," he said finally. "Although I was aiming for the point that he wanted to ensure his-" he swallowed hard. "That his death wasn't rendered meaningless. Sheppard, I don't know that I can...." He looked away, took a deep breath, and changed tack. "I think I know what happened."
Sam (John) nodded. "Okay. Let's hear it."
"Can I come in?"
"Oh, let him in, Sam," Al said from beside him. "He looks like hell."
"Al!"
"Al?" Rodney asked.
"I'll..." Sam floundered. "I'll think about it."
Rodney frowned.
"Sam," Al said, "are you okay? Ziggy detected a microleap. We've had a hell of a time finding you. You wouldn't believe, the first time it took six days, and then-" he broke off, then repeated, "Sam. Are you okay?"
Sam nodded.
"Is that a yes?" Rodney asked.
"No," Sam said. He needed to rid of Rodney now, right now, and talk to Al. He needed to know what was going on, Al needed to know what was going on, and they needed to figure out what the hell was happening. Sam could feel relief flooding through him like a tidal wave at Al's appearance and the only thing that was coming faster were questions. He had so many of them, starting with where the hell Al had been this whole time, but-
"Fine," Rodney said. "The Ancients, they had it wrong. Our mistake was-"
"Is that Dr. McKay?" Al was more interested in Rodney than Sam at the moment, and Sam was irrationally angry.
"-calculations again myself. I did them three times just to be sure and I am positive the problem is in the automatic containment protocols."
"Let him in," Al said urgently. "We need him."
"I asked Radek to check my calculations, but he...he refused. But they're correct. I'll do them for you again if you want."
Sam opened the door and stepped away from it. "Fine. Come in."
Rodney sighed, relieved. "Thank you."
"Okay," Sam said, but he was looking at Al. "What's your fix?"
"I'll tell you everything in a minute, Sam, but first we need to hear this."
"We adjust the field strength manually," Rodney said.
Sam did his best to focus, but his impatience with Al colored his reaction to Rodney. "You saw how fast it spiked on you," he said harshly.
"So we don't operate the generator at anywhere near its potential," Rodney said. "Look, there's no need to be greedy. Even operating at fifty percent, it'll still generate the power of a dozen ZPMs."
"Why didn't you think of that the first time?"
"We-" Rodney clenched his jaw. "I was being greedy."
"So why didn't the Ancients figure it out?"
"Maybe they were caught up in the heat of battle," Rodney said. "Maybe they thought they needed as much power as they could get. Maybe," he paused, then soldiered on, "maybe they weren't smart enough."
"And you are?" Sam asked. It came out more cutting than he'd intended and Rodney winced.
"I didn't say that," he protested quietly. "I have the benefit of hindsight. They didn't. Look, this is big. This is the wheel, the light bulb, the theory of relativity. This is big. It could save us."
Al's interest perked up at that, and he looked sideways, as though at someone else. Sam frowned, but tried to follow the thread of conversation. "Best case scenario?" he asked.
"I win a Nobel Prize."
"Worst case scenario?"
"We tear a hole in the fabric of the universe," Rodney said quickly, "which is much less likely to happen than the Nobel Prize. Look, the risks are nothing compared to the potential benefits. Elizabeth will listen to you." He took a deep breath and looked Sam in the eye. "I have never asked this of you before, but I think I've earned it. Please. Trust me."
"Do it, Sam," Al said.
"Okay," he said, but he wasn't sure about it at all. "Okay. I'll talk to Elizabeth."
Rodney was surprised, but it was overshadowed by his obvious gratitude. "Thank you. You won't regret this." He smiled, a pale imitation of the one Sam was used to seeing, and headed quickly in the direction of the labs.
"Why do I have the feeling I will?" Sam asked the empty hallway. But with Rodney finally gone, there were more important matters to attend to. The door slid closed and he turned on Al. "Where the hell have you been?"
"I'm getting to that," Al said. "Just relax for a minute, Sam."
"Relax? Relax? I'm on Atlantis, Al, in space-"
"Actually, you're in the ocean," Al said absentmindedly, tapping at his handlink.
"-I've been here alone for days, and you want me to relax? You can't be-"
Sam clutched his head and groaned in pain, swaying on his feet.
"I told you to relax, Sam."
"Whoa," said a new voice. "Cool. You're...not me."
Sam sat down hard on the bed, nearly missing the fact that he wasn't in pain anymore. He stared at the person who had now appeared in front of him where there clearly hadn't been a person the moment before.
"Sam, John. John, Sam."
"Wait," Sam said slowly, looking at John. "I can't...I can't feel you anymore. I haven't since-"
"-since we showed up, yeah," Al said. "The wormhole travel complicated things and mixed up a few of your neurons and mesons. The imaging chamber sorted them all back now. That's how you can see John, here."
"Hey," John said to Al, "you never told me that."
"It was just a little meshing," Al said, waving it off. "Nothing to be concerned about. That's how you were able to charm Ziggy, though. She has a soft spot for Sam. It's a little too Electra, if you ask me, but I didn't build her."
"He charmed Ziggy?" Sam asked.
"I thought that was the gene," John said.
"The gene?"
John turned to Sam. "Yeah, the ATA gene. It's how all the Ancient stuff works. Haven't you been able to feel it? With the jumper and-oh hell," he said, "you haven't, uh, crashed a jumper or anything, have you? Hopefully not jumper four? She's my favorite."
"Yes," Sam said, and John's eyes went wide. "No," he said quickly. "No, I haven't crashed a jumper. It just kind of," he gestured vaguely, "went on automatic pilot. But yes, I felt something. That's some sort of gene?"
"Yeah," John nodded. "Ancient Technology Activation gene. Most of the Ancient technology has a mental component, and only people with the gene can make it work."
"And that's how you-what did you do to Ziggy, anyway?"
"I just sort of...talked to her. And she talked back. A lot of the tech here does that."
Al shrugged. "She said John spoke her language. I thought she was speaking metaphorically."
None of that was really important. Sam took a deep breath and tried to focus. First things first. "So why am I here?"
"There's an 86.4% probability you're here to keep Dr. McKay from dying on the Arcturus mission."
"He dies?"
"In the original timeline and in the one you just created. Ziggy thinks that's the reason for the microleap."
"What happened in the original timeline?"
"Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard went back to the outpost for a second test firing. The weapon overloaded and started a chain reaction that culminated in a superburst." Sam winced. "Yeah," Al said. "Something like that."
"And in the timeline I created?"
"When you refused Dr. McKay's request, he went over your-John's-head to a Colonel Steven Caldwell, who approved the mission. The weapon overloaded again and started firing. The jumper Dr. McKay and his team were in took a hit that probably killed them."
"And if it didn't, the superburst did."
"Yeah." Al rubbed at his jaw. "There's more."
Sam sighed.
"Not to put pressure on you or anything, Sam, but, uh...if Dr. McKay doesn't make it out of this mission alive, well, then, two galaxies are kind of destroyed."
Sam gave him the fish eye. He reminded John eerily of Zelenka. "How?"
John smiled ruefully. "Would you believe a war between space vampires and alien body snatchers?"
Al nodded. "He's right. Dr. McKay gathered data from the Arcturus mission he used to created a weapon that defeated the, uh, the space vampires."
"You can't be serious," Sam said. "I've gone crazy. That's what this is. I knew it all along. This is a delusion, and I'm really just crazy. You're really just crazy," he said, pointing at John, who looked insulted. "Schizophrenic. Must be. At least they have medication for that. What year is this?" he asked Al. "Please tell me they've created second generation antipsychotics already. I could-you could-have a chance at a normal life.
"Oh, there!" he said excitedly, looking at the ceiling. "There, see, I've fixed it. Ready to leap now! Any time here, really. Any time."
John cast a sidelong glance at Al. "Is he always like this?"
Al was quick to come to Sam's defense. "He's had a long couple of days." To Sam he said, "Sorry, buddy. This is all real. Come on, we've had stranger leaps before."
Sam gave him a withering glare.
"Well, okay," he backtracked. "We've had other strange leaps before. Just trust."
"Also," John said, peering at Sam's reflection in the mirror, "fix my hair."
--------
"I've already made this decision, John," Elizabeth said firmly.
"If Dr. McKay says he's solved the problem," Caldwell countered, "I don't see why we don't give him another shot."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Isn't the Daedalus about ready to head back to Earth?"
"Feisty," Al said. "I like her."
"Hey," John said. "Watch it."
Caldwell rolled with the punch. "Yes, we are. But I think you should know the Pentagon has taken a very keen interest in this vacuum energy."
"I'm sure they have, but the Pentagon doesn't make the decisions here."
"I may not have the power to overrule you on this," Caldwell said, "but when I get back to Earth I'm going to be making the recommendation that Doctor McKay be allowed to continue his work to the highest authorities. Ultimately, Dr. Weir, this won't be up to you."
"Okay, I don't like him," Al said.
"Join the club," John agreed. "One time Lorne, my XO, convinced Hermiod to-"
Sam tuned them out and tried to follow the thread of conversation.
Elizabeth set her gaze on Sam. "Can Rodney guarantee that the same thing won't happen?"
Sam hesitated. "Nobody can do that."
"And he doesn't wear pants, which is-hey, watch it, Sam," John said. "Never give her an inch. She'll take a mile."
Not helping, Sam thought, wishing he could say it aloud. Instead, he said, "According to him, it's the Ancients' calculations that were wrong, not his."
"If McKay is that confident, I don't see why we don't-"
Weir cut him off. "Confidence is not something Doctor McKay is in any short supply of."
"And for good reason," Caldwell said. "If anyone can do this-"
"The Ancients could not do this! And that's what it keeps coming back to for me." Sam watched Elizabeth and Caldwell uneasily. It wasn't looking good.
"Isn't it possible that you have placed the Ancients on such a high pedestal that you can't even consider the possibility that they may be wrong?"
Al laughed uproariously. "He didn't."
John grinned. "He did."
Sam shot them both an annoyed look. Al had the decency to look contrite. "Sorry, Sam. But it was a really good story."
"Focus," he hissed.
Elizabeth's expression tightened. "Why are we mincing words, Colonel? You want the weapon."
"Yes, I do. A weapon that could effectively eliminate the Wraith threat is very attractive to me, and to the people that I work for. I'm not hiding that fact. But there's more to it, isn't there? No more hunting for ZPMs; the shield at full strength; faster, more powerful ships. How about a power source that could provide the energy needs for an entire planet? No more fossil fuels."
"Huh," John said, surprised. "He's good."
"I get it," Elizabeth said. "And if it worked as advertised, it would be wonderful. I'm trying to tell you I know Rodney McKay and there are times when I have to protect him from himself."
"He's Rodney," John said. "But he always comes through when it counts."
Sam looked at John one last time, as though to ask if he were sure. "I can do that," he said, after a moment. "Let me go back with him-just me and him. You can activate the stargate any time you want to contact us by radio."
Elizabeth looked almost disappointed. "He really sold you."
"He asked me to trust him."
--------
"I appreciate your support, Colonel," Rodney said as he finished setting up. "I make it a habit not to make the same mistake twice. I offer you my personal assurance that a surge like the one that happened before is inconceivable."
"I've seen that movie," Al said. "I know how it ends."
"The good guys win," John said.
"Yeah, but the guy who was talking about inconceivables? He dies."
Sam sighed. "This is our only chance," he said, as much to Rodney as to Al.
"Don't worry, Colonel," Rodney said. "I won't let you down."
He turned back to his console and was putting the finishing touches on his modifications when the radio sounded. Rodney glared at his readout, irritated, as Sam opened the channel.
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis," Elizabeth said.
"Go ahead."
"Is Dr. McKay with you?"
"Of course I am," Rodney said testily, "but we're a little busy getting ready to run a test here."
"Actually, I would like you to delay the test firing."
Sam was immediately suspicious. "Why?"
"We have reason to believe that the weapon's power source, it may not be controllable at any power level."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Radek?" he asked tightly.
"Rodney."
"We have been over this. I am doing this manually, at half power. It's a cakewalk."
"I don't think it matters how much cake you walk on."
"Czech," John said in response to Al's confusion.
"I've been doing calculations of my own and I believe that the very act of trying to contain vacuum energy from our own spacetime creates an environment where the laws of physics cease to apply."
Rodney finally looked up from his work. "What are you on about?"
"As power output increases, new and exotic particles are continuously created and destroyed inside the containment chamber, interacting with each other and with the field itself. Eventually particles are created that cannot be prevented in this spacetime, and they breach the containment field as hard radiation."
Rodney was already adjusting his controls. "As long as I'm monitoring the energy output manually, I can stop that before it happens."
"You cannot predict something that is inherently unpredictable!"
"Sam?" Al asked.
He leaned over Rodney's shoulder for a better look at the readout, and gave Al a small shrug. McKay's equations looked correct, but he hadn't factored in any of the exotic particles Zelenka was talking about. Couldn't, if he was right. And even if he was, this was still something they needed to do.
"I know what I'm doing," Rodney said.
"Rodney, I am trying to tell you as a friend, I have serious doubts."
"Well, you're wrong. I'm sorry, but there it is. And to bring this up now when I am just about to do this smacks of nothing but professional jealousy."
"Fine!" Zelenka said, frustrated. "Kill yourself, just like the Ancients did!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Al said. "What did he mean by that?"
"Zelenka?" Sam asked.
"I believe if the overload is allowed to continue, the weapon acts as a sort of release valve to prevent catastrophic containment failure. The Ancients barely managed to shut it down, and they lost their lives in the process."
"Okay," Al said, relieved. "We knew that already. Sort of."
"What we're suggesting," Elizabeth said, "is that the Wraith didn't kill everyone on that planet-it was the weapon itself."
John looked around the outpost. "That would explain why this place is the only thing left standing."
Rodney was having none of it. "Congratulations! You've solved the mystery of how the Ancients screwed up ten thousand years ago. It doesn't mean that I will do the same. Look, I don't know how else to say this, but none of you are capable of understanding this on the same level that I do. And Zelenka, that includes you."
"Rodney, I cannot afford to lose either one of you," she said, and Sam heard something like apology in her voice. "Now tell me: can you do this?"
"Yes," Rodney said, without a moment's hesitation.
"And if he can't, Ziggy and I can," Al said, though he sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than Sam. "We'll tell you as soon Dr. McKay has the data he needs. Then we'll all just get the hell out of Dodge and everything will be fine."
Sam nodded. "I'll call you back after the test," he said. "How does that sound?
After a moment, she replied, "You'd better."
Rodney took a deep breath, then finished setting up the last of his equipment. "Ready?" he asked.
Three "ready"s answered him, though he heard only Sam's. "Okay," he said. "Bringing the weapon online...now."
There was the familiar bass thrum as the weapon began powering up. Sam manned his own console and set the weapon to target the area of space directly opposite the stargate. The bass thrum faded as the sound climbed an octave.
"Energy surge," McKay reported. "It's fine. I can regulate it."
Sam cast a glance at Rodney, and John walked behind him to peer over his shoulder. "You sure?" Sam asked.
"The temperature inside the containment field is well within acceptable parameters," Rodney replied. "I'm staying ahead of it." The hum of the machine climbed another octave and continued to speed up. "Levels are rising in the chamber," he reported tightly. "Reroute power from the secondary systems to the containment field. Go."
"Keep going, Sam," Al said. "We're not there yet."
"Rodney?" Sam asked, watching the outputs as power was rerouted.
"I can compensate," he said, but he sounded more flustered. "Just give me a minute."
John swore. "It's overloading," he said.
"No," Al said. "We have to wait, he doesn't have the data he needs. There's still a 97% probability we're all wiped out. Wait, Sam."
"It's overloading, just like last time," John repeated.
"There is no logical reason this shouldn't be working." There was panic in Rodney's voice. "None of this should be happening. The energy levels are spiking at a rate far greater than anything I predicted!"
"Al!" Sam called.
"Not yet, Sam! Not yet!"
Rodney moved between his laptop and the weapon's controls, but the alarms began to blare.
"He needs to shut it down!" John called. "He's going to get himself killed!"
"No, Sam!" Al protested. "Not yet, not yet...we need the-now! Now! Shut it down now, he has the data!"
"Shut it down!" Sam yelled at Rodney.
"Fine," he said, but the alarms continued to blare. "Shit."
"Rodney?"
"This doesn't make any sense."
Sam felt the bottom drop out from beneath him. "What's wrong?"
"I can't shut it down."
"Get the hell out of there, Sam!" Al said. "Go, go!"
"We need to go!" he said to Rodney.
Rodney didn't budge. "I can bring it back under control!"
"No, you can't!"
Al swore as another alarm began to ring. "I've seen this before, Sam, pilots who wouldn't eject when something went wrong, trying to fix their planes right until they hit the ground. You've got to get him out of here while you still can!"
"Just drag him!" John said. "He won't go, so just make him. Now!"
"Now, Sam!" The handlink screeched as the alarms climbed in volume. "Sam! The weapon's firing at random targets above the planet!"
Sam grabbed Rodney and threw him bodily in the direction of the access ladder, even as he was giving Sam the same information about the weapon's firing.
"The laptop!" John yelled above the clamor. "Get the laptop!"
Sam raced back and scooped it up as Rodney sped up the ladder. "Sam!" Al cried, and now he sounded panicked, too. "Move, move! Your chances for survival are dropping, Sam. Move!"
Sam and Rodney ran at full tilt for the jumper, Al and John skipping ahead to the cockpit and calling for them. "Strap in!" John said as soon as Sam hit the pilot's seat. "I'll show you what to do. Just follow my hands." He leaned over Sam, through him, and guided Sam through the necessary start-up sequence. He could feel the jumper responding, that warm eagerness snugging up against him just like before, but twice as strong with John's hands ghosting over the controls.
"You need to avoid flying in predictable trajectories to keep the weapon from locking on to us," Rodney said.
"I know what I'm doing," John growled.
"There's no way the jumper can take even one direct hit," Sam said.
"I'll keep that in mind," John said, as the jumper rocketed through the planet's atmosphere. The farther they got from the planet's surface, the trickier the flying became. They had to avoid both the erratic weapons blasts and the debris from the Wraith fleet. Sam began to fear his reflexes weren't going to be fast enough, even with John's guidance.
"Al," Sam said urgently, "what do I do?"
"Who are you talking to?"
"Shut up, Rodney," Sam said. "Al!"
"Just keep doing what you're doing," he said from behind the pilot's seat. "Follow John. You're doing fine." But his handlink was telling another story entirely. Sam and Rodney's survival rates were plummeting. "Do something," he hissed at John.
"We've got to head for the gate," John said, and McKay reported the same a moment later.
Sam could feel things spiraling out of his control. "How are we going to avoid getting hit on the final approach?" Sam asked.
"I haven't figured that out yet," John said.
Rodney blanched. "The weapon's locking on to us!" he said. "Do something!"
"I'm trying!"
"Tell him to dial the gate," John said.
"Dial the gate!"
"Okay," John said, as Rodney began dialing, "we can pass around behind it and come over the top. That should give us enough cover to ma-"
"It's still locked on!" Rodney said, voice high and shrill. "We can't avoid it! It's going to hit us, John! It's-"
"John!" Al said, "They're not going to-!"
He instinctively reached out for John as the world around them exploded.
--------
"Well," John said a little shakily when the waiting room materialized around them again. "I take it that didn't go so well."
"Ziggy?" Al asked, swallowing hard.
"I've detected another microleap," she replied. "I should have a lock on Dr. Beckett in approximately three and a half minutes."
"Is he okay?"
"I won't know for certain until I get a lock on him," she said, "but there's a 95.2% probability he is."
Al looked relieved, but not wholly.
John felt the adrenaline thrumming through him slowly receding. "Is it like this every time?"
"No," Al said weakly. "I'd have died of a heart attack by now if it were. Usually it's marriages or loan sharks, something that only affects an individual. It's not usually saving the galaxy."
"Universe," John corrected absently.
"Universe," Al agreed. "We ran into Stephen King once, might have started him writing, but that was about as close as we've ever come to saving the universe."
"Stephen King?" John was clearly impressed. "Cool."
Al nodded.
"So listen," John said. "I have a plan."
--------
The leap was over before Sam even had time to wonder what would happen. When he came back to himself, the first thing he felt was a warm slickness over most of his body. Blood, he thought sickly, and swayed on his feet. Even his feet were slippery with it and he wondered idly if he was dying.
He should have known he was just falling.
When he landed (on his nose, predictably, and he'd have to remember to apologize to John for that-)
John. Al. Were they okay? Was he okay? He couldn't even begin to predict the effects of the superburst, and his mind raced with the possibilities. He felt dizzy again.
First, he needed to be sure he was still John. He groaned as he got to his feet (voice still high and nasal) and patted himself down (same long limbs, same hairy chest). He turned the shower off, toweled dry, and slowly turned to the mirror.
Yes.
John.
He dressed and sat down to wait, trying to stop himself from running the probabilities.
--------
Finally, he heard the sound of the imaging chamber door opening and Al and John came into view.
"Thank god," he said, body sagging with relief.
"You okay?" Al asked.
"Yeah," Sam said. "You?"
"Yeah."
"I had no idea what a superburst would do," he said helplessly. "I didn't even know if I'd see you again.'
"Hey, don't start talking like that now," John said. "Everything's going to be okay."
"It is?"
"It is," Al said. "John has a plan."
John grinned proudly. "I do."
Sam was skeptical. "And this plan would be...?"
"A little something I like to call Beggar's Canyon," John said, eyes lighting up. "All we need is a Millennium Falcon."
--------
"He really sold you," Elizabeth said, resignation and disappointment in her voice.
"He asked me to trust him," Sam said. "And I do.
--------
"Don't worry, Colonel," Rodney said. "I make it a habit not to make the same mistake twice."
Sam looked at him wryly. "That was a joke, right?'
"No. I offer you my personal assurance that a surge like the one that happened before is inconceivable."
"Maybe you should run some power-up simulations first."
Rodney grinned. "How about I carry out my plan and you keep the hot coffee coming?"
Sam gave Rodney his best Lt. Colonel eyebrow.
"Nice," John approved.
Rodney backpedaled quickly. "Joking, again. Right. Well. Where were we?"
--------
"Well, you're wrong! I'm sorry, but there it is. And to bring this up now when I am just about to do this smacks of nothing but professional jealousy!"
"He can really get into a snit," John said.
"Yeah," Al said, "so I've seen. I had this girlfriend once-or maybe that was my fourth wife. It gets hard to remember. Anyway, she was British, and she used to call it a wobbler in that cute little accent of hers. Only thing cuter was this little pink number she had, that untied all the way down her-"
"Al," Sam said warningly.
"Right," Al said. "Snit."
--------
There was the familiar bass thrum as the weapon began powering up. Sam manned his own console and set the weapon to target the area of space directly opposite the stargate. The bass of the weapon faded as it climbed an octave to full activation.
"Energy surge," Rodney reported. "It's fine. I can regulate it."
"You said you could contain it," Sam said, casting a glance at Al.
"You're fine, Sam," he replied. "Don't worry.
"The temperature inside the containment field is well within acceptable parameters," Rodney said. "I'm staying ahead of it." The hum of the machine climbed another octave and continued to speed up. It didn't sound good. "Levels are rising in the chamber," he reported tightly, "but I can compensate. Just give me a minute."
"It's overloading, just like last time," Sam said.
Rodney worked at his console, rerouting power, but after a moment he paled and Sam could see him see the disbelief on his face. "There is no logical reason this shouldn't be working."
"Rodney?" Sam asked, already gathering equipment.
"Hang on, Sam," Al said. "He doesn't have the data yet."
"None of this should be happening! Look, the energy levels are spiking at a rate far greater than anything I predicted."
"Wait, Sam, wait...just a little...okay, now! Tell him to shut it down now!"
"Shut it down!"
"Fine," Rodney said resentfully, turning back to his controls. The alarms continued to blare and were soon joined by a beeping from Rodney's console. "That doesn't make any sense."
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, though he already knew.
"I can't shut it down."
The rumbling and whining of the weapon was joined by the high-pitched sound of lasers and the outpost started to shake around them as the weapon began firing. The console Sam was working at began to spark. "Okay. Go, Sam," Al said. "Get him out of here," Al said. He checked his handlink again just to be sure. "You're fine, but hurry."
"All right, that's it," Sam said. "We're out of here."
"It's not safe!" Rodney yelled, sparks showering down on him from the cables wired through the weapon's core. "The weapon's firing at random targets above the planet. This is the safest place to be right now."
"This place isn't going to be safe for very much longer!"
"I can bring it back under control! Just give me a second!"
John was starting to get nervous. "Make him go, Sam! Make him go!"
Sam grabbed him by the jacket. "No, you can't!"
Rodney yanked himself free. "Just one second!"
"Sam," Al said. "You're pushing it. Go. Come on, go!"
"I've seen this before, Rodney," Sam bit out, right in Rodney's face, "pilots who wouldn't eject when something went wrong, trying to fix their planes right until they hit the ground!"
Rodney stared at him, then looked back at his readout and paled. "Okay, we need to leave. I've waited too long. The weapon can't discharge enough power to avoid a catastrophic overload. This whole planet's going to go up." He grabbed his laptop and ran for the access ladder amid the blaring of the alarms and the crackle of electricity. "Not that your speech was working."
"Finally," John said, exasperated. "Now go, run!"
Sam and Rodney ran full tilt for the jumper, Sam ordering to him to strap in as soon as they hit the cockpit.
"You need to avoid flying predictably to prevent the weapon from locking on to us," Rodney said.
"He knows what he's doing," John said.
"I know what I'm doing," Sam said.
"I'm just saying, be sure not to fly in a straight line!"
"Rodney, shut up!"
He wasn't about to. "Can I just say there's no way the jumper can take even one direct hit?"
"I'll keep that in mind," John said, as the jumper rocketed through the planet's atmosphere. The farther they got from the planet's surface, the more difficult the flying became. Just like before, John took a deep breath, stepped in, and guided Sam's hands over the controls.
"You're doing fine, Sam," he said as calmly as he could, rolling the jumper to avoid a piece of debris and immediately ducking under another to avoid a weapon blast.
"He's right, Sam," Al said. "Looking good."
John and Sam continued the jumper on its erratic path. "The weapon's locking on to us," Rodney said suddenly.
"Tell him to dial the gate," John said, then snapped, "Concentrate, Sam!" as a weapons blast came close.
Al checked his handlink again. "Tell him to dial the gate!"
"Dial the gate!"
"How do you intend to avoid getting hit on the final approach?" Rodney asked, dialing frantically.
"Almost," Al said. "You're almost there. Just another second..."
Sam hands still following John's, ducking the jumper in front of a burned out piece of wreckage that took a blast for them. He saw the first shadow of the Daedalus and grinned at John. "Oh, just a little something I like to call Beggar's Canyon."
"What-" Rodney started, but the ship's bulk rose in front of them, Caldwell's voice coming in over the comm and cutting Rodney off.
"You're all clear, jumper four. Make a break for the stargate. We'll run interference."
"Copy that, Daedalus," Sam said.
John winked at Sam. "You're all clear, kid. Now let's blow this thing and go home."
--------
Sam was prepared to leap as soon as they were safely through the stargate, and then again as soon as he and Rodney disembarked from the jumper. When it didn't happen, he looked sideways at Al. "Why haven't I leaped?" he mouthed.
Al shrugged. "Unfinished business?" Sam sighed exasperatedly. He's put more than enough effort into this one. "Uh-oh," Al said suddenly, motioning with his celebratory cigar at Elizabeth, who was stalking down the gateroom steps. "Looks like the boss lady has your number, and I don't think she's calling for a good time."
"John," she said through clenched teeth. "My office. Now."
John groaned and Rodney started to edge away. She caught him with the full force of her glare. "Rodney, don't you move. You're next."
Sam swallowed hard. "Oh, boy."
--------
When she was through with him (him, not them, Sam though resentfully. John had chosen that opportune time to say goodbye to Ziggy, who was reportedly the electronic equivalent of breathless as John's heroic bravery.), Sam left her office and headed straight for the mess. As he ate, Al began running a highlight reel of the leap, and John, with an impeccable sense of timing, returned for running commentary.
Al started by questioning the absence of Sam and John's shared manhood based on Elizabeth's rather severe reprimand. ("She totally neutered you, Sam." "John. She totally neutered John." "Hey, she did not! I wasn't even there!")
Then, he admired the unsurpassed virile beauty of military women. ("Hello there, gorgeous, mind if I take a closer look at your-" "That's Lieutenant Cadman." "Cadman, what a beautiful name, and what a beautiful set of-" "Al!" "What?" "She can't even see you!" "I know. Which is why I can do this!" "Careful, she's really good with explosives.")
He finished by again questioning the absence of Sam and John's shared manhood on the basis of their hair. ("Really, the swoopy thing Sam going was bad enough, but this? How'd he get into the military with this? Granted, you're only Air Force, but still." "Hey, it just does this, okay?" "Don't get me wrong, I was glad when Don't Ask, Don't Tell was repealed, but maybe they should have replaced it with Don't Gel, Don't Tell." "They repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell? Also, hey!").
The highlights were mercifully cut short halfway through Sam's meal when John was called back to the waiting room for a final medical check-up. He and Sam exchanged awkward thank yous as best they could in the middle of a crowded mess hall, and Sam finally got the chance to apologize for John's nose.
When he was gone, Al said, "You know, I really liked that kid."
"He's hardly a kid, Al."
"Come on, Sam. His brilliant idea was Beggar's Canyon. Of course he's a kid."
"I still don't get that," Sam said. "Beggar's Canyon?"
"Sure you do. Bull's-eyeing womp rats in his T-16 back home? May the Force be with you? Luke, I am your father?" Sam still looked blank. Al sighed. "Swiss cheese," he said. "You've forgotten a lot of stuff, Sam, but that? That's important."
Just then, Rodney appeared in the mess, asking for John when he didn't immediately spot him. Sam snuck out the back of the mess as stealthily as he could. The conversation brewing between the two of them was one Sam wanted to leave to John. He knew John better than he did most of the people he leaped into, but granting forgiveness still wasn't his place.
He made his way back to John's quarters the long way, at Al's suggestion, but Rodney caught up with him near the third level transporter.
"Colonel!" he called, jogging after Sam. "Colonel! I've been looking all over for you."
"I heard," Sam said, turning to face him. He crossed his arms, hoping fervently to leap.
Rodney's face fell, but he soldiered on. "I suppose I deserved that. Look, I just wanted to apologize about what happened. I was wrong. I'm sorry. And I wanted to assure you that I intend on being right again," he said, with a hint of his usual smile, "about everything, effective immediately."
Sam gave him the eyebrow. John had approved earlier, and it seemed like something he would do. "Nice," Al seconded.
"That was a joke," Rodney said, after an awkward moment's pause.
"Good one," Sam said, making a beeline for the transporter and thinking, Leap! Leap!
Rodney doggedly followed him. "I've already apologized to Elizabeth. And Radek. And I thanked Colonel Caldwell for caring enough to play Han Solo. Sent him a nice little email, actually."
"He looks like hell, Sam," Al said. "I think this this one really got to him." Sam had to agree.
Rodney paused, and Sam could see him steeling his nerve. "But I saved you until last because honestly, I would...." His voice was thin and tight again and Sam thought of the kid he'd seen in Germany, and bravery and bluster. "I would hate to think that recent events might have permanently dimmed your faith in my abilities. Or your trust," he said, unable to meet Sam's eyes. "At the very least, I hope I can earn that back."
"That may take a while."
Rodney took Sam's rebuff as gracefully as he could. "I see," he said quietly.
Al's handlink chirped. "Sam," he said. "We did it. For one, Rodney doesn't blow up any more solar systems. In fact, he and John actually...well, they really do it. They save two goddamned galaxies. Imagine that. These two."
Sam could, and easily. To Rodney he said, "But I'm sure you can do it, if you really want to try." He watched the first genuine hint of a smile settle on Rodney's face, then keyed the transporter doors closed.
Al watched after him, smiling a bit himself. "They manage to hold off the Wraith," he continued, "who never make it to Earth. In fact, they never even make it to Atlantis. Rodney devises a way of creating Z-Z-" he whacked the handlink-"ZPMs without messing with subspacetime."
Sam grinned. "That's great, Al."
"They use those and the data Rodney collected from the Arcturus project to create new weapons used to eventually defeat the Wraith. In fact, Rodney-" Al stopped and whispered urgently, "Sam. Rodney wins a Nobel Prize for his work in 2011 and-"
Al began to feel the faint crackle of electricity that meant Sam was about to leap. "No, Sam, wait! You don't understand! Rodney wins a Nobel Prize and it's presented to him by Dr. Samuel Beckett!"
But even as he finished, Sam was gone and the imaging chamber was once again materializing around Al. "You come home, Sam," he said to no one. "You come home."
It didn't matter that Sam didn't know, because he knew. He thought about Sam and John and Rodney and doing something amazing like saving the galaxy-no, the universe-and doing something equally amazing, like saving one person's life.
He felt his eyes well up and was unashamed.
Guess I finally got around to returning that favor after all, he thought.
Author: paradise_city
Beta: Many thanks to leaper182 for her excellent beta work and invaluable QL knowledge.
Characters: Sam, Al, John, Rodney gen
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For SGA's "Trinity" (02x06).
Written for: jayel_fox, who asked for Trinity: "Every time he thinks he's fixed it, it only gets worse." I also tried to work in her other prompts (Sam/Rodney professional relationship and a paranoid John in the waiting room); they're all there in some way except for the Goa'uld (don't watch SG-1, sorry!)
Summary: Some plans require a Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros, a Leon Spinks, and the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever. All John, Rodney, Sam, and Al need is a Millennium Falcon.
Part 1
Sam didn't know the leap had begun until it was already over. The first thing he felt was a sensation of movement and speed, then vertigo, then blinding pain. He gasped for breath, trying to cry out, but his lungs were working fast and hard and every breath was a struggle. He tasted the panic rising in the back of his throat, felt the shocky spread of adrenaline through his body, and forced himself to breathe slowly and shallowly while he tried to figure out where the hell he was.
When he did, he realized he wasn't dying. He'd just been busy running. And then, apparently, busy falling.
On his face.
Or, more precisely, on his nose. It throbbed in protest and Sam was only mildly placated when he felt gingerly for blood and didn't find any.
He rolled over (legs tired, right elbow smarting), groaned (voice high and nasal), patted himself down (tall, lanky, sweaty, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts), and caught sight of the indoor hallway he'd been running in. It looked disappointingly familiar, like cheap sci-fi.
Sam closed his eyes hard, counted to ten, and opened them again, tentatively.
Still the same hallway. And then he could feel it, could feel (John's) presence again, somehow occupying the same space as his own.
Luckily, he knew what to do in this situation. He closed his eyes and whimpered. "Oh, boy."
"Sir?" A tentative voice asked.
Sam (John) opened one eye, and looked at the bulky solider (Marine) standing over him. "You okay, sir?"
"Uh, yes," he said. "Fine. I'm fine."
"You sure? Should I call Dr. Beckett?"
"What?"
"Dr. Beckett. Do you need a medic, sir?"
Confused and disoriented, Sam thought, I'm Dr. Beckett, but John was thinking (Carson).
Great. Two Dr. Becketts. There was a lot Sam was willing to put with for a leap, but this was not one of them. This (space)town was only big enough for one Dr. Beckett, and Sam was it. He laughed.
"Sir?" The Marine (Lorne) was starting to look genuinely alarmed.
"I'm fine, Major," he said. "Really. I was just...taking a rest. Enjoying the view. There's no need to bother the doc."
"If you're sure, sir."
"I'm sure." Sam (John) waved vaguely. "Go on about your business."
"Can I at least give you a hand up?"
"No. I think I'll stay here for a moment. I'm, uh, not done enjoying the view."
Lorne grinned and looked up at the plain white ceiling. "And a fine view it is, sir."
"That it is, Major. That it is."
Lorne still looked a skeptical, but he tipped Sam (John) a jaunty salute and went on his way. Eventually, Sam (John) picked himself up off the floor and returned to his (John's) quarters. He was weighing a shower against mapping out the current timeline when there was a knock at his door. It slid open to reveal Rodney, rumpled and brimming over with weariness, but determined just the same.
Well. That answered that question.
"You here to talk about Doranda?" Sam (John) asked.
Rodney was momentarily flustered. "Actually, I was here to talk about Harry K. Daghlian."
Sam (John) nodded. "The scientist. Worked on the Manhattan Project at Los Alamos. Irradiated himself at twenty-six, working on two half-spheres of plutonium. He worked until his death to understand what had happened to him so that others could learn from it. Am I close?"
Rodney pressed his lips into a tight line. "Yes," he said finally. "Although I was aiming for the point that he wanted to ensure his-" he swallowed hard. "That his death wasn't rendered meaningless. Sheppard, I don't know that I can...." He looked away, took a deep breath, and changed tack. "I think I know what happened."
Sam (John) nodded. "Okay. Let's hear it."
"Can I come in?"
"Oh, let him in, Sam," Al said from beside him. "He looks like hell."
"Al!"
"Al?" Rodney asked.
"I'll..." Sam floundered. "I'll think about it."
Rodney frowned.
"Sam," Al said, "are you okay? Ziggy detected a microleap. We've had a hell of a time finding you. You wouldn't believe, the first time it took six days, and then-" he broke off, then repeated, "Sam. Are you okay?"
Sam nodded.
"Is that a yes?" Rodney asked.
"No," Sam said. He needed to rid of Rodney now, right now, and talk to Al. He needed to know what was going on, Al needed to know what was going on, and they needed to figure out what the hell was happening. Sam could feel relief flooding through him like a tidal wave at Al's appearance and the only thing that was coming faster were questions. He had so many of them, starting with where the hell Al had been this whole time, but-
"Fine," Rodney said. "The Ancients, they had it wrong. Our mistake was-"
"Is that Dr. McKay?" Al was more interested in Rodney than Sam at the moment, and Sam was irrationally angry.
"-calculations again myself. I did them three times just to be sure and I am positive the problem is in the automatic containment protocols."
"Let him in," Al said urgently. "We need him."
"I asked Radek to check my calculations, but he...he refused. But they're correct. I'll do them for you again if you want."
Sam opened the door and stepped away from it. "Fine. Come in."
Rodney sighed, relieved. "Thank you."
"Okay," Sam said, but he was looking at Al. "What's your fix?"
"I'll tell you everything in a minute, Sam, but first we need to hear this."
"We adjust the field strength manually," Rodney said.
Sam did his best to focus, but his impatience with Al colored his reaction to Rodney. "You saw how fast it spiked on you," he said harshly.
"So we don't operate the generator at anywhere near its potential," Rodney said. "Look, there's no need to be greedy. Even operating at fifty percent, it'll still generate the power of a dozen ZPMs."
"Why didn't you think of that the first time?"
"We-" Rodney clenched his jaw. "I was being greedy."
"So why didn't the Ancients figure it out?"
"Maybe they were caught up in the heat of battle," Rodney said. "Maybe they thought they needed as much power as they could get. Maybe," he paused, then soldiered on, "maybe they weren't smart enough."
"And you are?" Sam asked. It came out more cutting than he'd intended and Rodney winced.
"I didn't say that," he protested quietly. "I have the benefit of hindsight. They didn't. Look, this is big. This is the wheel, the light bulb, the theory of relativity. This is big. It could save us."
Al's interest perked up at that, and he looked sideways, as though at someone else. Sam frowned, but tried to follow the thread of conversation. "Best case scenario?" he asked.
"I win a Nobel Prize."
"Worst case scenario?"
"We tear a hole in the fabric of the universe," Rodney said quickly, "which is much less likely to happen than the Nobel Prize. Look, the risks are nothing compared to the potential benefits. Elizabeth will listen to you." He took a deep breath and looked Sam in the eye. "I have never asked this of you before, but I think I've earned it. Please. Trust me."
"Do it, Sam," Al said.
"Okay," he said, but he wasn't sure about it at all. "Okay. I'll talk to Elizabeth."
Rodney was surprised, but it was overshadowed by his obvious gratitude. "Thank you. You won't regret this." He smiled, a pale imitation of the one Sam was used to seeing, and headed quickly in the direction of the labs.
"Why do I have the feeling I will?" Sam asked the empty hallway. But with Rodney finally gone, there were more important matters to attend to. The door slid closed and he turned on Al. "Where the hell have you been?"
"I'm getting to that," Al said. "Just relax for a minute, Sam."
"Relax? Relax? I'm on Atlantis, Al, in space-"
"Actually, you're in the ocean," Al said absentmindedly, tapping at his handlink.
"-I've been here alone for days, and you want me to relax? You can't be-"
Sam clutched his head and groaned in pain, swaying on his feet.
"I told you to relax, Sam."
"Whoa," said a new voice. "Cool. You're...not me."
Sam sat down hard on the bed, nearly missing the fact that he wasn't in pain anymore. He stared at the person who had now appeared in front of him where there clearly hadn't been a person the moment before.
"Sam, John. John, Sam."
"Wait," Sam said slowly, looking at John. "I can't...I can't feel you anymore. I haven't since-"
"-since we showed up, yeah," Al said. "The wormhole travel complicated things and mixed up a few of your neurons and mesons. The imaging chamber sorted them all back now. That's how you can see John, here."
"Hey," John said to Al, "you never told me that."
"It was just a little meshing," Al said, waving it off. "Nothing to be concerned about. That's how you were able to charm Ziggy, though. She has a soft spot for Sam. It's a little too Electra, if you ask me, but I didn't build her."
"He charmed Ziggy?" Sam asked.
"I thought that was the gene," John said.
"The gene?"
John turned to Sam. "Yeah, the ATA gene. It's how all the Ancient stuff works. Haven't you been able to feel it? With the jumper and-oh hell," he said, "you haven't, uh, crashed a jumper or anything, have you? Hopefully not jumper four? She's my favorite."
"Yes," Sam said, and John's eyes went wide. "No," he said quickly. "No, I haven't crashed a jumper. It just kind of," he gestured vaguely, "went on automatic pilot. But yes, I felt something. That's some sort of gene?"
"Yeah," John nodded. "Ancient Technology Activation gene. Most of the Ancient technology has a mental component, and only people with the gene can make it work."
"And that's how you-what did you do to Ziggy, anyway?"
"I just sort of...talked to her. And she talked back. A lot of the tech here does that."
Al shrugged. "She said John spoke her language. I thought she was speaking metaphorically."
None of that was really important. Sam took a deep breath and tried to focus. First things first. "So why am I here?"
"There's an 86.4% probability you're here to keep Dr. McKay from dying on the Arcturus mission."
"He dies?"
"In the original timeline and in the one you just created. Ziggy thinks that's the reason for the microleap."
"What happened in the original timeline?"
"Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard went back to the outpost for a second test firing. The weapon overloaded and started a chain reaction that culminated in a superburst." Sam winced. "Yeah," Al said. "Something like that."
"And in the timeline I created?"
"When you refused Dr. McKay's request, he went over your-John's-head to a Colonel Steven Caldwell, who approved the mission. The weapon overloaded again and started firing. The jumper Dr. McKay and his team were in took a hit that probably killed them."
"And if it didn't, the superburst did."
"Yeah." Al rubbed at his jaw. "There's more."
Sam sighed.
"Not to put pressure on you or anything, Sam, but, uh...if Dr. McKay doesn't make it out of this mission alive, well, then, two galaxies are kind of destroyed."
Sam gave him the fish eye. He reminded John eerily of Zelenka. "How?"
John smiled ruefully. "Would you believe a war between space vampires and alien body snatchers?"
Al nodded. "He's right. Dr. McKay gathered data from the Arcturus mission he used to created a weapon that defeated the, uh, the space vampires."
"You can't be serious," Sam said. "I've gone crazy. That's what this is. I knew it all along. This is a delusion, and I'm really just crazy. You're really just crazy," he said, pointing at John, who looked insulted. "Schizophrenic. Must be. At least they have medication for that. What year is this?" he asked Al. "Please tell me they've created second generation antipsychotics already. I could-you could-have a chance at a normal life.
"Oh, there!" he said excitedly, looking at the ceiling. "There, see, I've fixed it. Ready to leap now! Any time here, really. Any time."
John cast a sidelong glance at Al. "Is he always like this?"
Al was quick to come to Sam's defense. "He's had a long couple of days." To Sam he said, "Sorry, buddy. This is all real. Come on, we've had stranger leaps before."
Sam gave him a withering glare.
"Well, okay," he backtracked. "We've had other strange leaps before. Just trust."
"Also," John said, peering at Sam's reflection in the mirror, "fix my hair."
--------
"I've already made this decision, John," Elizabeth said firmly.
"If Dr. McKay says he's solved the problem," Caldwell countered, "I don't see why we don't give him another shot."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Isn't the Daedalus about ready to head back to Earth?"
"Feisty," Al said. "I like her."
"Hey," John said. "Watch it."
Caldwell rolled with the punch. "Yes, we are. But I think you should know the Pentagon has taken a very keen interest in this vacuum energy."
"I'm sure they have, but the Pentagon doesn't make the decisions here."
"I may not have the power to overrule you on this," Caldwell said, "but when I get back to Earth I'm going to be making the recommendation that Doctor McKay be allowed to continue his work to the highest authorities. Ultimately, Dr. Weir, this won't be up to you."
"Okay, I don't like him," Al said.
"Join the club," John agreed. "One time Lorne, my XO, convinced Hermiod to-"
Sam tuned them out and tried to follow the thread of conversation.
Elizabeth set her gaze on Sam. "Can Rodney guarantee that the same thing won't happen?"
Sam hesitated. "Nobody can do that."
"And he doesn't wear pants, which is-hey, watch it, Sam," John said. "Never give her an inch. She'll take a mile."
Not helping, Sam thought, wishing he could say it aloud. Instead, he said, "According to him, it's the Ancients' calculations that were wrong, not his."
"If McKay is that confident, I don't see why we don't-"
Weir cut him off. "Confidence is not something Doctor McKay is in any short supply of."
"And for good reason," Caldwell said. "If anyone can do this-"
"The Ancients could not do this! And that's what it keeps coming back to for me." Sam watched Elizabeth and Caldwell uneasily. It wasn't looking good.
"Isn't it possible that you have placed the Ancients on such a high pedestal that you can't even consider the possibility that they may be wrong?"
Al laughed uproariously. "He didn't."
John grinned. "He did."
Sam shot them both an annoyed look. Al had the decency to look contrite. "Sorry, Sam. But it was a really good story."
"Focus," he hissed.
Elizabeth's expression tightened. "Why are we mincing words, Colonel? You want the weapon."
"Yes, I do. A weapon that could effectively eliminate the Wraith threat is very attractive to me, and to the people that I work for. I'm not hiding that fact. But there's more to it, isn't there? No more hunting for ZPMs; the shield at full strength; faster, more powerful ships. How about a power source that could provide the energy needs for an entire planet? No more fossil fuels."
"Huh," John said, surprised. "He's good."
"I get it," Elizabeth said. "And if it worked as advertised, it would be wonderful. I'm trying to tell you I know Rodney McKay and there are times when I have to protect him from himself."
"He's Rodney," John said. "But he always comes through when it counts."
Sam looked at John one last time, as though to ask if he were sure. "I can do that," he said, after a moment. "Let me go back with him-just me and him. You can activate the stargate any time you want to contact us by radio."
Elizabeth looked almost disappointed. "He really sold you."
"He asked me to trust him."
--------
"I appreciate your support, Colonel," Rodney said as he finished setting up. "I make it a habit not to make the same mistake twice. I offer you my personal assurance that a surge like the one that happened before is inconceivable."
"I've seen that movie," Al said. "I know how it ends."
"The good guys win," John said.
"Yeah, but the guy who was talking about inconceivables? He dies."
Sam sighed. "This is our only chance," he said, as much to Rodney as to Al.
"Don't worry, Colonel," Rodney said. "I won't let you down."
He turned back to his console and was putting the finishing touches on his modifications when the radio sounded. Rodney glared at his readout, irritated, as Sam opened the channel.
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis," Elizabeth said.
"Go ahead."
"Is Dr. McKay with you?"
"Of course I am," Rodney said testily, "but we're a little busy getting ready to run a test here."
"Actually, I would like you to delay the test firing."
Sam was immediately suspicious. "Why?"
"We have reason to believe that the weapon's power source, it may not be controllable at any power level."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Radek?" he asked tightly.
"Rodney."
"We have been over this. I am doing this manually, at half power. It's a cakewalk."
"I don't think it matters how much cake you walk on."
"Czech," John said in response to Al's confusion.
"I've been doing calculations of my own and I believe that the very act of trying to contain vacuum energy from our own spacetime creates an environment where the laws of physics cease to apply."
Rodney finally looked up from his work. "What are you on about?"
"As power output increases, new and exotic particles are continuously created and destroyed inside the containment chamber, interacting with each other and with the field itself. Eventually particles are created that cannot be prevented in this spacetime, and they breach the containment field as hard radiation."
Rodney was already adjusting his controls. "As long as I'm monitoring the energy output manually, I can stop that before it happens."
"You cannot predict something that is inherently unpredictable!"
"Sam?" Al asked.
He leaned over Rodney's shoulder for a better look at the readout, and gave Al a small shrug. McKay's equations looked correct, but he hadn't factored in any of the exotic particles Zelenka was talking about. Couldn't, if he was right. And even if he was, this was still something they needed to do.
"I know what I'm doing," Rodney said.
"Rodney, I am trying to tell you as a friend, I have serious doubts."
"Well, you're wrong. I'm sorry, but there it is. And to bring this up now when I am just about to do this smacks of nothing but professional jealousy."
"Fine!" Zelenka said, frustrated. "Kill yourself, just like the Ancients did!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Al said. "What did he mean by that?"
"Zelenka?" Sam asked.
"I believe if the overload is allowed to continue, the weapon acts as a sort of release valve to prevent catastrophic containment failure. The Ancients barely managed to shut it down, and they lost their lives in the process."
"Okay," Al said, relieved. "We knew that already. Sort of."
"What we're suggesting," Elizabeth said, "is that the Wraith didn't kill everyone on that planet-it was the weapon itself."
John looked around the outpost. "That would explain why this place is the only thing left standing."
Rodney was having none of it. "Congratulations! You've solved the mystery of how the Ancients screwed up ten thousand years ago. It doesn't mean that I will do the same. Look, I don't know how else to say this, but none of you are capable of understanding this on the same level that I do. And Zelenka, that includes you."
"Rodney, I cannot afford to lose either one of you," she said, and Sam heard something like apology in her voice. "Now tell me: can you do this?"
"Yes," Rodney said, without a moment's hesitation.
"And if he can't, Ziggy and I can," Al said, though he sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than Sam. "We'll tell you as soon Dr. McKay has the data he needs. Then we'll all just get the hell out of Dodge and everything will be fine."
Sam nodded. "I'll call you back after the test," he said. "How does that sound?
After a moment, she replied, "You'd better."
Rodney took a deep breath, then finished setting up the last of his equipment. "Ready?" he asked.
Three "ready"s answered him, though he heard only Sam's. "Okay," he said. "Bringing the weapon online...now."
There was the familiar bass thrum as the weapon began powering up. Sam manned his own console and set the weapon to target the area of space directly opposite the stargate. The bass thrum faded as the sound climbed an octave.
"Energy surge," McKay reported. "It's fine. I can regulate it."
Sam cast a glance at Rodney, and John walked behind him to peer over his shoulder. "You sure?" Sam asked.
"The temperature inside the containment field is well within acceptable parameters," Rodney replied. "I'm staying ahead of it." The hum of the machine climbed another octave and continued to speed up. "Levels are rising in the chamber," he reported tightly. "Reroute power from the secondary systems to the containment field. Go."
"Keep going, Sam," Al said. "We're not there yet."
"Rodney?" Sam asked, watching the outputs as power was rerouted.
"I can compensate," he said, but he sounded more flustered. "Just give me a minute."
John swore. "It's overloading," he said.
"No," Al said. "We have to wait, he doesn't have the data he needs. There's still a 97% probability we're all wiped out. Wait, Sam."
"It's overloading, just like last time," John repeated.
"There is no logical reason this shouldn't be working." There was panic in Rodney's voice. "None of this should be happening. The energy levels are spiking at a rate far greater than anything I predicted!"
"Al!" Sam called.
"Not yet, Sam! Not yet!"
Rodney moved between his laptop and the weapon's controls, but the alarms began to blare.
"He needs to shut it down!" John called. "He's going to get himself killed!"
"No, Sam!" Al protested. "Not yet, not yet...we need the-now! Now! Shut it down now, he has the data!"
"Shut it down!" Sam yelled at Rodney.
"Fine," he said, but the alarms continued to blare. "Shit."
"Rodney?"
"This doesn't make any sense."
Sam felt the bottom drop out from beneath him. "What's wrong?"
"I can't shut it down."
"Get the hell out of there, Sam!" Al said. "Go, go!"
"We need to go!" he said to Rodney.
Rodney didn't budge. "I can bring it back under control!"
"No, you can't!"
Al swore as another alarm began to ring. "I've seen this before, Sam, pilots who wouldn't eject when something went wrong, trying to fix their planes right until they hit the ground. You've got to get him out of here while you still can!"
"Just drag him!" John said. "He won't go, so just make him. Now!"
"Now, Sam!" The handlink screeched as the alarms climbed in volume. "Sam! The weapon's firing at random targets above the planet!"
Sam grabbed Rodney and threw him bodily in the direction of the access ladder, even as he was giving Sam the same information about the weapon's firing.
"The laptop!" John yelled above the clamor. "Get the laptop!"
Sam raced back and scooped it up as Rodney sped up the ladder. "Sam!" Al cried, and now he sounded panicked, too. "Move, move! Your chances for survival are dropping, Sam. Move!"
Sam and Rodney ran at full tilt for the jumper, Al and John skipping ahead to the cockpit and calling for them. "Strap in!" John said as soon as Sam hit the pilot's seat. "I'll show you what to do. Just follow my hands." He leaned over Sam, through him, and guided Sam through the necessary start-up sequence. He could feel the jumper responding, that warm eagerness snugging up against him just like before, but twice as strong with John's hands ghosting over the controls.
"You need to avoid flying in predictable trajectories to keep the weapon from locking on to us," Rodney said.
"I know what I'm doing," John growled.
"There's no way the jumper can take even one direct hit," Sam said.
"I'll keep that in mind," John said, as the jumper rocketed through the planet's atmosphere. The farther they got from the planet's surface, the trickier the flying became. They had to avoid both the erratic weapons blasts and the debris from the Wraith fleet. Sam began to fear his reflexes weren't going to be fast enough, even with John's guidance.
"Al," Sam said urgently, "what do I do?"
"Who are you talking to?"
"Shut up, Rodney," Sam said. "Al!"
"Just keep doing what you're doing," he said from behind the pilot's seat. "Follow John. You're doing fine." But his handlink was telling another story entirely. Sam and Rodney's survival rates were plummeting. "Do something," he hissed at John.
"We've got to head for the gate," John said, and McKay reported the same a moment later.
Sam could feel things spiraling out of his control. "How are we going to avoid getting hit on the final approach?" Sam asked.
"I haven't figured that out yet," John said.
Rodney blanched. "The weapon's locking on to us!" he said. "Do something!"
"I'm trying!"
"Tell him to dial the gate," John said.
"Dial the gate!"
"Okay," John said, as Rodney began dialing, "we can pass around behind it and come over the top. That should give us enough cover to ma-"
"It's still locked on!" Rodney said, voice high and shrill. "We can't avoid it! It's going to hit us, John! It's-"
"John!" Al said, "They're not going to-!"
He instinctively reached out for John as the world around them exploded.
--------
"Well," John said a little shakily when the waiting room materialized around them again. "I take it that didn't go so well."
"Ziggy?" Al asked, swallowing hard.
"I've detected another microleap," she replied. "I should have a lock on Dr. Beckett in approximately three and a half minutes."
"Is he okay?"
"I won't know for certain until I get a lock on him," she said, "but there's a 95.2% probability he is."
Al looked relieved, but not wholly.
John felt the adrenaline thrumming through him slowly receding. "Is it like this every time?"
"No," Al said weakly. "I'd have died of a heart attack by now if it were. Usually it's marriages or loan sharks, something that only affects an individual. It's not usually saving the galaxy."
"Universe," John corrected absently.
"Universe," Al agreed. "We ran into Stephen King once, might have started him writing, but that was about as close as we've ever come to saving the universe."
"Stephen King?" John was clearly impressed. "Cool."
Al nodded.
"So listen," John said. "I have a plan."
--------
The leap was over before Sam even had time to wonder what would happen. When he came back to himself, the first thing he felt was a warm slickness over most of his body. Blood, he thought sickly, and swayed on his feet. Even his feet were slippery with it and he wondered idly if he was dying.
He should have known he was just falling.
When he landed (on his nose, predictably, and he'd have to remember to apologize to John for that-)
John. Al. Were they okay? Was he okay? He couldn't even begin to predict the effects of the superburst, and his mind raced with the possibilities. He felt dizzy again.
First, he needed to be sure he was still John. He groaned as he got to his feet (voice still high and nasal) and patted himself down (same long limbs, same hairy chest). He turned the shower off, toweled dry, and slowly turned to the mirror.
Yes.
John.
He dressed and sat down to wait, trying to stop himself from running the probabilities.
--------
Finally, he heard the sound of the imaging chamber door opening and Al and John came into view.
"Thank god," he said, body sagging with relief.
"You okay?" Al asked.
"Yeah," Sam said. "You?"
"Yeah."
"I had no idea what a superburst would do," he said helplessly. "I didn't even know if I'd see you again.'
"Hey, don't start talking like that now," John said. "Everything's going to be okay."
"It is?"
"It is," Al said. "John has a plan."
John grinned proudly. "I do."
Sam was skeptical. "And this plan would be...?"
"A little something I like to call Beggar's Canyon," John said, eyes lighting up. "All we need is a Millennium Falcon."
--------
"He really sold you," Elizabeth said, resignation and disappointment in her voice.
"He asked me to trust him," Sam said. "And I do.
--------
"Don't worry, Colonel," Rodney said. "I make it a habit not to make the same mistake twice."
Sam looked at him wryly. "That was a joke, right?'
"No. I offer you my personal assurance that a surge like the one that happened before is inconceivable."
"Maybe you should run some power-up simulations first."
Rodney grinned. "How about I carry out my plan and you keep the hot coffee coming?"
Sam gave Rodney his best Lt. Colonel eyebrow.
"Nice," John approved.
Rodney backpedaled quickly. "Joking, again. Right. Well. Where were we?"
--------
"Well, you're wrong! I'm sorry, but there it is. And to bring this up now when I am just about to do this smacks of nothing but professional jealousy!"
"He can really get into a snit," John said.
"Yeah," Al said, "so I've seen. I had this girlfriend once-or maybe that was my fourth wife. It gets hard to remember. Anyway, she was British, and she used to call it a wobbler in that cute little accent of hers. Only thing cuter was this little pink number she had, that untied all the way down her-"
"Al," Sam said warningly.
"Right," Al said. "Snit."
--------
There was the familiar bass thrum as the weapon began powering up. Sam manned his own console and set the weapon to target the area of space directly opposite the stargate. The bass of the weapon faded as it climbed an octave to full activation.
"Energy surge," Rodney reported. "It's fine. I can regulate it."
"You said you could contain it," Sam said, casting a glance at Al.
"You're fine, Sam," he replied. "Don't worry.
"The temperature inside the containment field is well within acceptable parameters," Rodney said. "I'm staying ahead of it." The hum of the machine climbed another octave and continued to speed up. It didn't sound good. "Levels are rising in the chamber," he reported tightly, "but I can compensate. Just give me a minute."
"It's overloading, just like last time," Sam said.
Rodney worked at his console, rerouting power, but after a moment he paled and Sam could see him see the disbelief on his face. "There is no logical reason this shouldn't be working."
"Rodney?" Sam asked, already gathering equipment.
"Hang on, Sam," Al said. "He doesn't have the data yet."
"None of this should be happening! Look, the energy levels are spiking at a rate far greater than anything I predicted."
"Wait, Sam, wait...just a little...okay, now! Tell him to shut it down now!"
"Shut it down!"
"Fine," Rodney said resentfully, turning back to his controls. The alarms continued to blare and were soon joined by a beeping from Rodney's console. "That doesn't make any sense."
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, though he already knew.
"I can't shut it down."
The rumbling and whining of the weapon was joined by the high-pitched sound of lasers and the outpost started to shake around them as the weapon began firing. The console Sam was working at began to spark. "Okay. Go, Sam," Al said. "Get him out of here," Al said. He checked his handlink again just to be sure. "You're fine, but hurry."
"All right, that's it," Sam said. "We're out of here."
"It's not safe!" Rodney yelled, sparks showering down on him from the cables wired through the weapon's core. "The weapon's firing at random targets above the planet. This is the safest place to be right now."
"This place isn't going to be safe for very much longer!"
"I can bring it back under control! Just give me a second!"
John was starting to get nervous. "Make him go, Sam! Make him go!"
Sam grabbed him by the jacket. "No, you can't!"
Rodney yanked himself free. "Just one second!"
"Sam," Al said. "You're pushing it. Go. Come on, go!"
"I've seen this before, Rodney," Sam bit out, right in Rodney's face, "pilots who wouldn't eject when something went wrong, trying to fix their planes right until they hit the ground!"
Rodney stared at him, then looked back at his readout and paled. "Okay, we need to leave. I've waited too long. The weapon can't discharge enough power to avoid a catastrophic overload. This whole planet's going to go up." He grabbed his laptop and ran for the access ladder amid the blaring of the alarms and the crackle of electricity. "Not that your speech was working."
"Finally," John said, exasperated. "Now go, run!"
Sam and Rodney ran full tilt for the jumper, Sam ordering to him to strap in as soon as they hit the cockpit.
"You need to avoid flying predictably to prevent the weapon from locking on to us," Rodney said.
"He knows what he's doing," John said.
"I know what I'm doing," Sam said.
"I'm just saying, be sure not to fly in a straight line!"
"Rodney, shut up!"
He wasn't about to. "Can I just say there's no way the jumper can take even one direct hit?"
"I'll keep that in mind," John said, as the jumper rocketed through the planet's atmosphere. The farther they got from the planet's surface, the more difficult the flying became. Just like before, John took a deep breath, stepped in, and guided Sam's hands over the controls.
"You're doing fine, Sam," he said as calmly as he could, rolling the jumper to avoid a piece of debris and immediately ducking under another to avoid a weapon blast.
"He's right, Sam," Al said. "Looking good."
John and Sam continued the jumper on its erratic path. "The weapon's locking on to us," Rodney said suddenly.
"Tell him to dial the gate," John said, then snapped, "Concentrate, Sam!" as a weapons blast came close.
Al checked his handlink again. "Tell him to dial the gate!"
"Dial the gate!"
"How do you intend to avoid getting hit on the final approach?" Rodney asked, dialing frantically.
"Almost," Al said. "You're almost there. Just another second..."
Sam hands still following John's, ducking the jumper in front of a burned out piece of wreckage that took a blast for them. He saw the first shadow of the Daedalus and grinned at John. "Oh, just a little something I like to call Beggar's Canyon."
"What-" Rodney started, but the ship's bulk rose in front of them, Caldwell's voice coming in over the comm and cutting Rodney off.
"You're all clear, jumper four. Make a break for the stargate. We'll run interference."
"Copy that, Daedalus," Sam said.
John winked at Sam. "You're all clear, kid. Now let's blow this thing and go home."
--------
Sam was prepared to leap as soon as they were safely through the stargate, and then again as soon as he and Rodney disembarked from the jumper. When it didn't happen, he looked sideways at Al. "Why haven't I leaped?" he mouthed.
Al shrugged. "Unfinished business?" Sam sighed exasperatedly. He's put more than enough effort into this one. "Uh-oh," Al said suddenly, motioning with his celebratory cigar at Elizabeth, who was stalking down the gateroom steps. "Looks like the boss lady has your number, and I don't think she's calling for a good time."
"John," she said through clenched teeth. "My office. Now."
John groaned and Rodney started to edge away. She caught him with the full force of her glare. "Rodney, don't you move. You're next."
Sam swallowed hard. "Oh, boy."
--------
When she was through with him (him, not them, Sam though resentfully. John had chosen that opportune time to say goodbye to Ziggy, who was reportedly the electronic equivalent of breathless as John's heroic bravery.), Sam left her office and headed straight for the mess. As he ate, Al began running a highlight reel of the leap, and John, with an impeccable sense of timing, returned for running commentary.
Al started by questioning the absence of Sam and John's shared manhood based on Elizabeth's rather severe reprimand. ("She totally neutered you, Sam." "John. She totally neutered John." "Hey, she did not! I wasn't even there!")
Then, he admired the unsurpassed virile beauty of military women. ("Hello there, gorgeous, mind if I take a closer look at your-" "That's Lieutenant Cadman." "Cadman, what a beautiful name, and what a beautiful set of-" "Al!" "What?" "She can't even see you!" "I know. Which is why I can do this!" "Careful, she's really good with explosives.")
He finished by again questioning the absence of Sam and John's shared manhood on the basis of their hair. ("Really, the swoopy thing Sam going was bad enough, but this? How'd he get into the military with this? Granted, you're only Air Force, but still." "Hey, it just does this, okay?" "Don't get me wrong, I was glad when Don't Ask, Don't Tell was repealed, but maybe they should have replaced it with Don't Gel, Don't Tell." "They repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell? Also, hey!").
The highlights were mercifully cut short halfway through Sam's meal when John was called back to the waiting room for a final medical check-up. He and Sam exchanged awkward thank yous as best they could in the middle of a crowded mess hall, and Sam finally got the chance to apologize for John's nose.
When he was gone, Al said, "You know, I really liked that kid."
"He's hardly a kid, Al."
"Come on, Sam. His brilliant idea was Beggar's Canyon. Of course he's a kid."
"I still don't get that," Sam said. "Beggar's Canyon?"
"Sure you do. Bull's-eyeing womp rats in his T-16 back home? May the Force be with you? Luke, I am your father?" Sam still looked blank. Al sighed. "Swiss cheese," he said. "You've forgotten a lot of stuff, Sam, but that? That's important."
Just then, Rodney appeared in the mess, asking for John when he didn't immediately spot him. Sam snuck out the back of the mess as stealthily as he could. The conversation brewing between the two of them was one Sam wanted to leave to John. He knew John better than he did most of the people he leaped into, but granting forgiveness still wasn't his place.
He made his way back to John's quarters the long way, at Al's suggestion, but Rodney caught up with him near the third level transporter.
"Colonel!" he called, jogging after Sam. "Colonel! I've been looking all over for you."
"I heard," Sam said, turning to face him. He crossed his arms, hoping fervently to leap.
Rodney's face fell, but he soldiered on. "I suppose I deserved that. Look, I just wanted to apologize about what happened. I was wrong. I'm sorry. And I wanted to assure you that I intend on being right again," he said, with a hint of his usual smile, "about everything, effective immediately."
Sam gave him the eyebrow. John had approved earlier, and it seemed like something he would do. "Nice," Al seconded.
"That was a joke," Rodney said, after an awkward moment's pause.
"Good one," Sam said, making a beeline for the transporter and thinking, Leap! Leap!
Rodney doggedly followed him. "I've already apologized to Elizabeth. And Radek. And I thanked Colonel Caldwell for caring enough to play Han Solo. Sent him a nice little email, actually."
"He looks like hell, Sam," Al said. "I think this this one really got to him." Sam had to agree.
Rodney paused, and Sam could see him steeling his nerve. "But I saved you until last because honestly, I would...." His voice was thin and tight again and Sam thought of the kid he'd seen in Germany, and bravery and bluster. "I would hate to think that recent events might have permanently dimmed your faith in my abilities. Or your trust," he said, unable to meet Sam's eyes. "At the very least, I hope I can earn that back."
"That may take a while."
Rodney took Sam's rebuff as gracefully as he could. "I see," he said quietly.
Al's handlink chirped. "Sam," he said. "We did it. For one, Rodney doesn't blow up any more solar systems. In fact, he and John actually...well, they really do it. They save two goddamned galaxies. Imagine that. These two."
Sam could, and easily. To Rodney he said, "But I'm sure you can do it, if you really want to try." He watched the first genuine hint of a smile settle on Rodney's face, then keyed the transporter doors closed.
Al watched after him, smiling a bit himself. "They manage to hold off the Wraith," he continued, "who never make it to Earth. In fact, they never even make it to Atlantis. Rodney devises a way of creating Z-Z-" he whacked the handlink-"ZPMs without messing with subspacetime."
Sam grinned. "That's great, Al."
"They use those and the data Rodney collected from the Arcturus project to create new weapons used to eventually defeat the Wraith. In fact, Rodney-" Al stopped and whispered urgently, "Sam. Rodney wins a Nobel Prize for his work in 2011 and-"
Al began to feel the faint crackle of electricity that meant Sam was about to leap. "No, Sam, wait! You don't understand! Rodney wins a Nobel Prize and it's presented to him by Dr. Samuel Beckett!"
But even as he finished, Sam was gone and the imaging chamber was once again materializing around Al. "You come home, Sam," he said to no one. "You come home."
It didn't matter that Sam didn't know, because he knew. He thought about Sam and John and Rodney and doing something amazing like saving the galaxy-no, the universe-and doing something equally amazing, like saving one person's life.
He felt his eyes well up and was unashamed.
Guess I finally got around to returning that favor after all, he thought.