Plan Z, Part 2 of 4
Aug. 11th, 2009 02:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartTitle: Plan Z
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Stargate-Atlantis
Genre: Action/adventure, Humour
Rating: General, suitable for all
Pairings: Radek/?/? – anything else would be telling. And it’s all implied anyway.
Warnings: none, unless you’re squicked out by the idea of Mpreg or cross-genre threesomes.
Spoilers: “The Torment of Tantalus” (SG-1, 1.11), “Crystal Skull” (SG-1, 3.21), and “Paradise Lost” (SG-1, 6.15)
Timeframe: Late Season 1, so that I could add my favourite supporting characters who never made it into Season 2.
Summary: Answering the 2007 Radek ficathon challenge. Written for![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
leaper182.
The prompt was: When Sheppard's team is trapped off-world, they need Radek's help to get back to Atlantis. Slash (either Radek/Rodney or Radek/Carson) is lovely, but not required.
Series/sequel: none. Although the story uses the settings of my Darkroom alternate universe, it’s independent from everything I’ve ever written in this fandom.
Disclaimer: don’t own them, no money made. Only the wacky planet and a bunch of OCs belong to me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PLAN Z, PART 2
“Whoever these people are, they cannot actually be Furlings,” Dr. Corrigan declared some twenty minutes later. “The Furlings were one of the four great ancient races, aside from the Asgard and the Nox, who’d formed an alliance with the Ancients, thousands of years ago. At least according to the repository in Heliopolis, discovered by SG-1 on PB2-908, in 1997.”
“Well, Mr. Suelze here says that they’re a highly advanced people,” Dr. Weir pointed out. Corrigan shook his head.
“No, Ma’am, you misunderstood me. We know who the Furlings are. Were. Whatever. To our best knowledge, there’s at least one of them, a giant being made of light and energy, on P7X-377. It exists in a dimension close to ours and is called Quetzalcoatl. SG-1 made contact with it, back in 2000. You said your employers are ordinary, flesh-and-blood people, right?” he turned to the mediator.
“I wouldn’t call them ordinary,” Diggory Suelze answered with a crooked smile. “But they’re certainly as human and solid as you or me. I’ve heard the name of Quetzalcoatl mentioned among them, though. They say a being with that name – a powerful creature not of their world – visited Furlonia aeons ago and helped them to shape their civilization.”
“Does that mean they consider Quetzalcoatl their god?” Dr. Weir asked.
Diggory shook his head. “No; as their Great Compass. They don’t believe in gods, but they are aware of beings out there that are a lot more powerful than they could ever hope to become.”
“I believe M7L-982 must have once been a Furling protectorate,” Dr. Corrigan said. “Something akin to the Asgard-protected planets. Only that the Furlings, unlike the Asgard or the Tollans, don’t seem to have been afraid to share their technology with less-advanced people. And these guys have obviously made good use of it during the millennia in-between.”
“Have we ever heard of Furling-protected planets back in the Milky Way galaxy?” Dr. Weir asked. She’d studied the most important reports of the various SG-teams but couldn’t remember every single detail.
“There has been one such planet found, as far as I’m informed,” Dr. Corrigan replied. “I can’t remember its designation, but it was nicknamed Utopia. One particular piece of tech found there – the only one that still worked – was an archway device that was capable of instantaneously transporting users over great distances.”
“Do your employers have device like that?” Zelenka asked the mediator.
“That I cannot tell,” Diggory Suelze shrugged. “We are a simple folk, and their way of living is well beyond our imagination.”
“But you have been on their world, haven’t you?” Zelenka insisted.
“Several times,” the mediator said, “but there’s little I could tell you, even if I were not currently employed by them. Their Gate stands in a cavernous, windowless room; most likely an underground cave. Travellers are immediately transferred to a place where things have no solid substance – you can walk through things, even people, as if they were made of thin air.”
“Oh,” Zelenka said. “Interdimensional transportation device. That way they can search visitors for hidden weapons, explosives, and other harmful things. Clever. Very clever.”
The mediator nodded. “They are. When they’ve made sure that the visitor is no threat to them, they return him to the real world Then he walks through some sort of archway and finds himself elsewhere, on one of their habitat areas.”
Zelenka and Corrigan exchanged a look full of excitement and curiosity.
“Could be same device as on Utopia, no?” the Czech guessed.
“Must be.” The anthropologist nodded. “The one Colonel… well, General O’Neill walked through transferred him from the planet surface to its nearby moon. Furling technology is very efficient, and these people are apparently capable of using it a conscious way, perhaps even developing it further.”
“I’m still surprised that the Wraith haven’t discovered them,” Dr. Weir said. “It’s not easy to hide such advanced technology.”
“It is, with proper shielding.” Zelenka shrugged. “They must have very efficient cloaking device, powered by clean, natural energy source. Geothermic energy is possibility; according to Dr. Selikhova, the planet has very active core. She was very excited when she returned after the first sequence of sensor work.”
“But if they’re so damn advanced, why did they take our people hostage?” Bates growled. “We’re certainly no threat to them.”
“I don’t think it’s a military problem, Sergeant,” Dr. Weir said mildly.
“If their chief honcho is called the Warlord, then it sure as hell is!” Bates riposted.
The mediator raised a hand to get their attention.
“Dr. Weir is right,” he said. “This is a profound philosophical problem. You see, the Furlings, unlike any other people I’ve ever heard of, do not believe in the physical contact between genders, unless it’s sanctioned by the need for procreation and a thorough mixing of the gene pool, as they like to say.”
Bates’ eyes glazed over. “Huh?”
Corrigan took pity on him. “It means that on Furlonia, homosexuality is the norm, Sergeant,” he explained matter-of factly. Anthropologists generally weren’t easily shocked. “They only mate to produce children; otherwise they stick to their own gender. It’s a rare arrangement, but not entirely unheard of. According to Jonas Quinn, Kelowna has a similarly oriented society.”
“The Furlings do not need to mate in order to produce children,” the mediator corrected. “The begetting takes place in a lab, without the potential parents getting… physical with each other. If the embryo takes, as they say, it is placed into the womb of the bearer with the help of a strange device. They consider… erm… natural begetting to be unclean and uncivilized, and all people that practice it are barbaric in their eyes… even inferior.”
“That still doesn’t explain why they would want to destroy our people – or our entire city,” Dr. Weir said. “Especially as they don’t seem to be bothered by the mating customs of the rest of this galaxy.”
“Oh, but the rest of the galaxy doesn’t pose a threat to them,” the mediator replied. “Not even the Wraith do. You, however, live in the flying city of the Ancients – once you’ve learned all its secrets, you may very well become a serious threat.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about them,” Bates remarked darkly. “I wonder how that came about?”
The mediator stiffened in his seat and gave the Sergeant a thoroughly offended look… one that was mirrored in Dr. Weir’s eyes. Bates glared back at the man defiantly but seemed a bit uncomfortable. He’d been so proud of the trade agreement he’d worked out with the Manarans; it would be foolish to ruin his relationship with them now over this.
“I am one of the very few outsiders that are accepted, to a certain degree, because of my… orientation,” the mediator declared with wounded dignity. “They consider me only slightly below their Beta males, and they’ve taught me some basic facts, so that I can efficiently represent them in their dealings with other races.”
“Wait a minute,” Corrigan interrupted. “What do you mean with Beta males?”
“The Furlings have four genders,” the mediator explained. “Alpha males are large and very masculine. Beta males are much shorter and often fragile, and they are also capable of bearing children. Alpha females are lean and athletic, and a significant percentage of them are infertile. Beta females are voluptuous, very feminine but also rare, compared with the other three genders; barely ten per cent of the population.”
“I… I see.” For a moment, even Corrigan, who had seen and heard his fair share of people’s strange customs during his years as SG-15’s resident anthropologist, was more than a little baffled. “So, am I right in assuming that this Chief Warlord, who by his title must be one of their Alpha dogs, took a shine to Major Sheppard…?”
“He thought the major to be a Beta male, because he is not as big and muscular as Furling Alphas,” the mediator nodded, “and as the major didn’t wear the mark of a bonded Beta, the Warlord proposed to him. The Furlings do refresh their gene pool with bondmates from other races, from time to time.”
“Is a Beta not allowed to refuse a proposal from an Alpha?” Halling spoke for the first time.
“Of course he is; the Furlings are an enlightened people!” The mediator seemed truly offended on behalf of his employers. “Unfortunately, Major Sheppard made a few… indiscreet remarks about men who want to be with men, and, understandably enough, the Chief Warlord took great offence. You must understand that for them, actual intercourse between the members of two opposite genders is anathema.”
Corrigan shook his head in amused bewilderment.
“This is the strangest mirror image of homophobic excesses I’ve ever heard of on Earth… or any other planet, come to think of it,” he said. “But at least it brings a great variety to the gene pool. Anyway, what can we do to save our people – not to mention ourselves – from the righteous anger of Furling zealots?”
“Well, the woman warrior named Teyla is in no danger,” the mediator said. “The Furlings know she’s Athosian, and they consider the Athosian custom of clan marriages as the first step on the way to enlightenment. Besides, Teyla accepted a challenge to duel by a respected huntress and proved her Alpha female worth. She’s declared the young one, Lieutenant Ford, as her chosen, so the Furlings will leave the young man alone, too. The two of them are even allowed to move around in the habitat area freely, as long as they don’t try to leave. But you must allow the ones called Beckett and Zelenka to accompany me to Furlonia.”
“Me?” Zelenka said in slight panic, questioning the statement before anyone else had a chance to respond. “What can they possibly want from me?”
“Why, the loud and annoying one called McKay told the Furlings that you are his bonded, and so is Dr. Beckett,” the mediator replied. “And the Furlings want you to confirm that statement before they would even consider releasing your people.”
“He did what?” No one had ever seen the quiet, good-humoured Dr. Zelenka so furious. Ever. “He’s miserable little man, whom I will be killing in his sleep as soon as he gets back!”
The mediator inclined his head towards him. “I understand the sentiment perfectly. Life bonds, if not made publicly, should only be revealed with the consent of all parties involved.”
“I am not involved with Rodney!” Zelenka shouted with such ferocity that it made Dr. Weir startle in her seat. “Nor with Carson. Or with anyone else! Am a perfectly normal, lonely scientist like everyone else here, and not looking for crazy affairs!”
Which was a blatant lie, as at the very least two people in the conference room knew it. But these two people kept that knowledge to themselves – one out of self-preservation, the one out of sympathy. Dr. Weir had to fight very hard to suppress a smile – an enraged Zelenka was an unexpectedly funny sight.
“Oh…” the mediator seemed decidedly disappointed. “Well, in that case I can only hope you’re a very good actor, because as things look, you’re the only one who might be able to prove to the Furlings that not all your people are ‘declared enemies of the only true way’, as they would call it.”
“Didn’t they want Dr. Beckett as well?” Bates asked.
“He’s not going,” Dr. Weir said simply.
Bates couldn’t quite hide his smirk. “Still afraid of Gate travel, isn’t he?”
“Not everyone’s born to be a Gate traveller,” Dr. Weir replied coolly, in defence of Carson’s honour. “He would go nonetheless, if needed. But it would do no good to send him to a mission while he’s needed here more – or do you want to go to Dr. Biro for medical assistance?”
The dismayed expression on Bates’ face was answer enough. No, he didn’t want to go to their resident pathologist with any injury. Dr. Weir nodded.
“I thought so. That’s why Carson will stay here. I’m sure Dr. Zelenka will deal with the Furlings on his own just fine.”
“By pretending I’m something that I am not?” Zelenka asked angrily.
“By making them believe that the people of Atlantis are not a seditious force that endangers the very basics of their society,” the mediator replied very seriously. “Even if you have to pretend to be something – or someone – that you, in fact, are not.”
Zelenka shot Corrigan a desperate glance.
“Doesn’t seem that I have any other choice, yes?” he asked.
“Afraid not,” the anthropologist said with compassion. Playing the mate of Dr. McKay, gay or otherwise, wouldn’t have been his voluntary choice, either.
“Very well,” Zelenka declared, “I’ll do what I can. But Rodney is dead man in the second he sets foot on Atlantis again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was still fuming when – less than an hour later – he finally left his lab to step through the Stargate for the second time in his life. The thought to have to leave several very sensitive experiments to Dr. Moosekian’s care didn’t bode well with him. As Peter had said earlier, the scruffy little Armenian was a decent engineer, but not so good at simulations.
Under normal circumstances, Radek would have asked Kavanagh to keep an eye on his lab. The American scientist might be a pain in the ass, but he was well-organized and highly efficient. Right now, however, Kavanagh and Simpson were working on an important project of their own and couldn’t spare the time to watch over Radek’s experiment as well.
“Are you sure you can deal with Dr. Moosekian, milácku?” Radek asked Miko Kusanagi, who had offered to pull a double shift, just to keep the lab safe. “He’s not always very pleasant company.”
Miko gave him one of her private little smiles.
“You forget that I, too, work for Dr. McKay,” she replied. “Don’t worry about me. Go and bring him back safely, so that we can complain about him all the time.”
Radek kissed her on the cheek and stepped out into the corridor, muttering Czech profanities under his breath. He was really, really mad at his boss, and he fully intended to make Rodney pay for dragging him into an off-world debacle. As if he didn’t have enough work to do. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t heard Grodin approaching, and nearly got a heart attack when Peter touched his shoulder.
“Kurva drát!” he exclaimed, leaning against the bulkhead to catch his breath again.
“Sorry,” Grodin apologized, “I just wanted to see you off. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“No, Peter, I do not want to do this,” Radek answered angrily. “I have to do this because Rodney was again babbling without thinking of implications and found it good idea to get me in trouble, too, just to save his own skin. I’m no diplomat – I’ll only make everything worse, and then I’ll get imprisoned, just like the major, and…”
Grodin laid a placating hand upon his arm. “Whoa, calm down! No need to work yourself into a frenzy. You should better consider how you’re going to make the Furlings believe that you’re the bed slave of both Rodney and Carson.”
Radek glared at him darkly. “I will do no such thing!”
“Then how are you planning to get him out of trouble?” Grodin asked.
“I’m not,” Radek told him. “I intend to give him so much trouble of my own that Furlings will be his least concern.”
“Is that wise?” Grodin asked with a frown.
“Is the only thing I can do convincingly,” Radek answered with a shrug; then, patting Grodin’s arm, he added. “Of course, I would be much more inspired if I had to get you out of trouble.”
“Tease,” Grodin smiled at him. “Stay safe and bring Rodney back, so that I can kill him personally.”
“No need to be jealous,” Radek smiled back at him. “I’d never trade you for him. But now I have to go and solve problem. Carson wouldn’t be able to deal with situation… especially with Lieutenant Ford present.”
“Rodney couldn’t have named a worse person,” Grodin agreed. “Carson is incapable of pretending… and he’s emotionally too fragile at the moment.”
“Rodney’s infuriatingly clueless,” Radek agreed. “One day he’ll have to learn how adults deal with other people. Well… I really have to go, Peter. You know what it’s like: if Plan A and Plan B have failed and Plan C is no option, you have to invoke Plan Z.”
Part 3
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Stargate-Atlantis
Genre: Action/adventure, Humour
Rating: General, suitable for all
Pairings: Radek/?/? – anything else would be telling. And it’s all implied anyway.
Warnings: none, unless you’re squicked out by the idea of Mpreg or cross-genre threesomes.
Spoilers: “The Torment of Tantalus” (SG-1, 1.11), “Crystal Skull” (SG-1, 3.21), and “Paradise Lost” (SG-1, 6.15)
Timeframe: Late Season 1, so that I could add my favourite supporting characters who never made it into Season 2.
Summary: Answering the 2007 Radek ficathon challenge. Written for
leaper182.The prompt was: When Sheppard's team is trapped off-world, they need Radek's help to get back to Atlantis. Slash (either Radek/Rodney or Radek/Carson) is lovely, but not required.
Series/sequel: none. Although the story uses the settings of my Darkroom alternate universe, it’s independent from everything I’ve ever written in this fandom.
Disclaimer: don’t own them, no money made. Only the wacky planet and a bunch of OCs belong to me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PLAN Z, PART 2
“Whoever these people are, they cannot actually be Furlings,” Dr. Corrigan declared some twenty minutes later. “The Furlings were one of the four great ancient races, aside from the Asgard and the Nox, who’d formed an alliance with the Ancients, thousands of years ago. At least according to the repository in Heliopolis, discovered by SG-1 on PB2-908, in 1997.”
“Well, Mr. Suelze here says that they’re a highly advanced people,” Dr. Weir pointed out. Corrigan shook his head.
“No, Ma’am, you misunderstood me. We know who the Furlings are. Were. Whatever. To our best knowledge, there’s at least one of them, a giant being made of light and energy, on P7X-377. It exists in a dimension close to ours and is called Quetzalcoatl. SG-1 made contact with it, back in 2000. You said your employers are ordinary, flesh-and-blood people, right?” he turned to the mediator.
“I wouldn’t call them ordinary,” Diggory Suelze answered with a crooked smile. “But they’re certainly as human and solid as you or me. I’ve heard the name of Quetzalcoatl mentioned among them, though. They say a being with that name – a powerful creature not of their world – visited Furlonia aeons ago and helped them to shape their civilization.”
“Does that mean they consider Quetzalcoatl their god?” Dr. Weir asked.
Diggory shook his head. “No; as their Great Compass. They don’t believe in gods, but they are aware of beings out there that are a lot more powerful than they could ever hope to become.”
“I believe M7L-982 must have once been a Furling protectorate,” Dr. Corrigan said. “Something akin to the Asgard-protected planets. Only that the Furlings, unlike the Asgard or the Tollans, don’t seem to have been afraid to share their technology with less-advanced people. And these guys have obviously made good use of it during the millennia in-between.”
“Have we ever heard of Furling-protected planets back in the Milky Way galaxy?” Dr. Weir asked. She’d studied the most important reports of the various SG-teams but couldn’t remember every single detail.
“There has been one such planet found, as far as I’m informed,” Dr. Corrigan replied. “I can’t remember its designation, but it was nicknamed Utopia. One particular piece of tech found there – the only one that still worked – was an archway device that was capable of instantaneously transporting users over great distances.”
“Do your employers have device like that?” Zelenka asked the mediator.
“That I cannot tell,” Diggory Suelze shrugged. “We are a simple folk, and their way of living is well beyond our imagination.”
“But you have been on their world, haven’t you?” Zelenka insisted.
“Several times,” the mediator said, “but there’s little I could tell you, even if I were not currently employed by them. Their Gate stands in a cavernous, windowless room; most likely an underground cave. Travellers are immediately transferred to a place where things have no solid substance – you can walk through things, even people, as if they were made of thin air.”
“Oh,” Zelenka said. “Interdimensional transportation device. That way they can search visitors for hidden weapons, explosives, and other harmful things. Clever. Very clever.”
The mediator nodded. “They are. When they’ve made sure that the visitor is no threat to them, they return him to the real world Then he walks through some sort of archway and finds himself elsewhere, on one of their habitat areas.”
Zelenka and Corrigan exchanged a look full of excitement and curiosity.
“Could be same device as on Utopia, no?” the Czech guessed.
“Must be.” The anthropologist nodded. “The one Colonel… well, General O’Neill walked through transferred him from the planet surface to its nearby moon. Furling technology is very efficient, and these people are apparently capable of using it a conscious way, perhaps even developing it further.”
“I’m still surprised that the Wraith haven’t discovered them,” Dr. Weir said. “It’s not easy to hide such advanced technology.”
“It is, with proper shielding.” Zelenka shrugged. “They must have very efficient cloaking device, powered by clean, natural energy source. Geothermic energy is possibility; according to Dr. Selikhova, the planet has very active core. She was very excited when she returned after the first sequence of sensor work.”
“But if they’re so damn advanced, why did they take our people hostage?” Bates growled. “We’re certainly no threat to them.”
“I don’t think it’s a military problem, Sergeant,” Dr. Weir said mildly.
“If their chief honcho is called the Warlord, then it sure as hell is!” Bates riposted.
The mediator raised a hand to get their attention.
“Dr. Weir is right,” he said. “This is a profound philosophical problem. You see, the Furlings, unlike any other people I’ve ever heard of, do not believe in the physical contact between genders, unless it’s sanctioned by the need for procreation and a thorough mixing of the gene pool, as they like to say.”
Bates’ eyes glazed over. “Huh?”
Corrigan took pity on him. “It means that on Furlonia, homosexuality is the norm, Sergeant,” he explained matter-of factly. Anthropologists generally weren’t easily shocked. “They only mate to produce children; otherwise they stick to their own gender. It’s a rare arrangement, but not entirely unheard of. According to Jonas Quinn, Kelowna has a similarly oriented society.”
“The Furlings do not need to mate in order to produce children,” the mediator corrected. “The begetting takes place in a lab, without the potential parents getting… physical with each other. If the embryo takes, as they say, it is placed into the womb of the bearer with the help of a strange device. They consider… erm… natural begetting to be unclean and uncivilized, and all people that practice it are barbaric in their eyes… even inferior.”
“That still doesn’t explain why they would want to destroy our people – or our entire city,” Dr. Weir said. “Especially as they don’t seem to be bothered by the mating customs of the rest of this galaxy.”
“Oh, but the rest of the galaxy doesn’t pose a threat to them,” the mediator replied. “Not even the Wraith do. You, however, live in the flying city of the Ancients – once you’ve learned all its secrets, you may very well become a serious threat.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about them,” Bates remarked darkly. “I wonder how that came about?”
The mediator stiffened in his seat and gave the Sergeant a thoroughly offended look… one that was mirrored in Dr. Weir’s eyes. Bates glared back at the man defiantly but seemed a bit uncomfortable. He’d been so proud of the trade agreement he’d worked out with the Manarans; it would be foolish to ruin his relationship with them now over this.
“I am one of the very few outsiders that are accepted, to a certain degree, because of my… orientation,” the mediator declared with wounded dignity. “They consider me only slightly below their Beta males, and they’ve taught me some basic facts, so that I can efficiently represent them in their dealings with other races.”
“Wait a minute,” Corrigan interrupted. “What do you mean with Beta males?”
“The Furlings have four genders,” the mediator explained. “Alpha males are large and very masculine. Beta males are much shorter and often fragile, and they are also capable of bearing children. Alpha females are lean and athletic, and a significant percentage of them are infertile. Beta females are voluptuous, very feminine but also rare, compared with the other three genders; barely ten per cent of the population.”
“I… I see.” For a moment, even Corrigan, who had seen and heard his fair share of people’s strange customs during his years as SG-15’s resident anthropologist, was more than a little baffled. “So, am I right in assuming that this Chief Warlord, who by his title must be one of their Alpha dogs, took a shine to Major Sheppard…?”
“He thought the major to be a Beta male, because he is not as big and muscular as Furling Alphas,” the mediator nodded, “and as the major didn’t wear the mark of a bonded Beta, the Warlord proposed to him. The Furlings do refresh their gene pool with bondmates from other races, from time to time.”
“Is a Beta not allowed to refuse a proposal from an Alpha?” Halling spoke for the first time.
“Of course he is; the Furlings are an enlightened people!” The mediator seemed truly offended on behalf of his employers. “Unfortunately, Major Sheppard made a few… indiscreet remarks about men who want to be with men, and, understandably enough, the Chief Warlord took great offence. You must understand that for them, actual intercourse between the members of two opposite genders is anathema.”
Corrigan shook his head in amused bewilderment.
“This is the strangest mirror image of homophobic excesses I’ve ever heard of on Earth… or any other planet, come to think of it,” he said. “But at least it brings a great variety to the gene pool. Anyway, what can we do to save our people – not to mention ourselves – from the righteous anger of Furling zealots?”
“Well, the woman warrior named Teyla is in no danger,” the mediator said. “The Furlings know she’s Athosian, and they consider the Athosian custom of clan marriages as the first step on the way to enlightenment. Besides, Teyla accepted a challenge to duel by a respected huntress and proved her Alpha female worth. She’s declared the young one, Lieutenant Ford, as her chosen, so the Furlings will leave the young man alone, too. The two of them are even allowed to move around in the habitat area freely, as long as they don’t try to leave. But you must allow the ones called Beckett and Zelenka to accompany me to Furlonia.”
“Me?” Zelenka said in slight panic, questioning the statement before anyone else had a chance to respond. “What can they possibly want from me?”
“Why, the loud and annoying one called McKay told the Furlings that you are his bonded, and so is Dr. Beckett,” the mediator replied. “And the Furlings want you to confirm that statement before they would even consider releasing your people.”
“He did what?” No one had ever seen the quiet, good-humoured Dr. Zelenka so furious. Ever. “He’s miserable little man, whom I will be killing in his sleep as soon as he gets back!”
The mediator inclined his head towards him. “I understand the sentiment perfectly. Life bonds, if not made publicly, should only be revealed with the consent of all parties involved.”
“I am not involved with Rodney!” Zelenka shouted with such ferocity that it made Dr. Weir startle in her seat. “Nor with Carson. Or with anyone else! Am a perfectly normal, lonely scientist like everyone else here, and not looking for crazy affairs!”
Which was a blatant lie, as at the very least two people in the conference room knew it. But these two people kept that knowledge to themselves – one out of self-preservation, the one out of sympathy. Dr. Weir had to fight very hard to suppress a smile – an enraged Zelenka was an unexpectedly funny sight.
“Oh…” the mediator seemed decidedly disappointed. “Well, in that case I can only hope you’re a very good actor, because as things look, you’re the only one who might be able to prove to the Furlings that not all your people are ‘declared enemies of the only true way’, as they would call it.”
“Didn’t they want Dr. Beckett as well?” Bates asked.
“He’s not going,” Dr. Weir said simply.
Bates couldn’t quite hide his smirk. “Still afraid of Gate travel, isn’t he?”
“Not everyone’s born to be a Gate traveller,” Dr. Weir replied coolly, in defence of Carson’s honour. “He would go nonetheless, if needed. But it would do no good to send him to a mission while he’s needed here more – or do you want to go to Dr. Biro for medical assistance?”
The dismayed expression on Bates’ face was answer enough. No, he didn’t want to go to their resident pathologist with any injury. Dr. Weir nodded.
“I thought so. That’s why Carson will stay here. I’m sure Dr. Zelenka will deal with the Furlings on his own just fine.”
“By pretending I’m something that I am not?” Zelenka asked angrily.
“By making them believe that the people of Atlantis are not a seditious force that endangers the very basics of their society,” the mediator replied very seriously. “Even if you have to pretend to be something – or someone – that you, in fact, are not.”
Zelenka shot Corrigan a desperate glance.
“Doesn’t seem that I have any other choice, yes?” he asked.
“Afraid not,” the anthropologist said with compassion. Playing the mate of Dr. McKay, gay or otherwise, wouldn’t have been his voluntary choice, either.
“Very well,” Zelenka declared, “I’ll do what I can. But Rodney is dead man in the second he sets foot on Atlantis again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was still fuming when – less than an hour later – he finally left his lab to step through the Stargate for the second time in his life. The thought to have to leave several very sensitive experiments to Dr. Moosekian’s care didn’t bode well with him. As Peter had said earlier, the scruffy little Armenian was a decent engineer, but not so good at simulations.
Under normal circumstances, Radek would have asked Kavanagh to keep an eye on his lab. The American scientist might be a pain in the ass, but he was well-organized and highly efficient. Right now, however, Kavanagh and Simpson were working on an important project of their own and couldn’t spare the time to watch over Radek’s experiment as well.
“Are you sure you can deal with Dr. Moosekian, milácku?” Radek asked Miko Kusanagi, who had offered to pull a double shift, just to keep the lab safe. “He’s not always very pleasant company.”
Miko gave him one of her private little smiles.
“You forget that I, too, work for Dr. McKay,” she replied. “Don’t worry about me. Go and bring him back safely, so that we can complain about him all the time.”
Radek kissed her on the cheek and stepped out into the corridor, muttering Czech profanities under his breath. He was really, really mad at his boss, and he fully intended to make Rodney pay for dragging him into an off-world debacle. As if he didn’t have enough work to do. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t heard Grodin approaching, and nearly got a heart attack when Peter touched his shoulder.
“Kurva drát!” he exclaimed, leaning against the bulkhead to catch his breath again.
“Sorry,” Grodin apologized, “I just wanted to see you off. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“No, Peter, I do not want to do this,” Radek answered angrily. “I have to do this because Rodney was again babbling without thinking of implications and found it good idea to get me in trouble, too, just to save his own skin. I’m no diplomat – I’ll only make everything worse, and then I’ll get imprisoned, just like the major, and…”
Grodin laid a placating hand upon his arm. “Whoa, calm down! No need to work yourself into a frenzy. You should better consider how you’re going to make the Furlings believe that you’re the bed slave of both Rodney and Carson.”
Radek glared at him darkly. “I will do no such thing!”
“Then how are you planning to get him out of trouble?” Grodin asked.
“I’m not,” Radek told him. “I intend to give him so much trouble of my own that Furlings will be his least concern.”
“Is that wise?” Grodin asked with a frown.
“Is the only thing I can do convincingly,” Radek answered with a shrug; then, patting Grodin’s arm, he added. “Of course, I would be much more inspired if I had to get you out of trouble.”
“Tease,” Grodin smiled at him. “Stay safe and bring Rodney back, so that I can kill him personally.”
“No need to be jealous,” Radek smiled back at him. “I’d never trade you for him. But now I have to go and solve problem. Carson wouldn’t be able to deal with situation… especially with Lieutenant Ford present.”
“Rodney couldn’t have named a worse person,” Grodin agreed. “Carson is incapable of pretending… and he’s emotionally too fragile at the moment.”
“Rodney’s infuriatingly clueless,” Radek agreed. “One day he’ll have to learn how adults deal with other people. Well… I really have to go, Peter. You know what it’s like: if Plan A and Plan B have failed and Plan C is no option, you have to invoke Plan Z.”
Part 3
