He shook his head, and turned his back on the window. He would do what he had to do.
Radek found Dr. Keller briskly stacking boxes in cabinets in the infirmary and waited for a moment until she noticed him.
"Sorry, just trying to get the fragile stuff squared away in case we get shaken up in here," she said, wedging boxes into the back corner of a shelf tightly enough that they seemed unlikely to shift. "What can I do for you?"
"I would like you to give me the retrovirus," Radek said.
Jennifer put down the box in her hand and turned to face him. "You know that Mr. Woolsey recommended against distributing the retrovirus."
"He said it was optional for civilian personnel."
"It's really early in the testing process," Jennifer said. "Carson and I have made a couple of changes that we hope will eliminate the side effects I had, or at least make them much less serious. But we haven't had time to see if that works. I want to be very clear about the risks. You could go into convulsions. It's possible that you could die."
"I am willing to take the risk."
"Do you mind if I ask why?"
Radek shrugged. "I have been in Atlantis since the first year we were here. That was a very bad year." Faces rose unbidden in memory, friends withered into corpses. He had seen death before, but not like that, shocking and obscene and terrifying. He had thought, briefly, about returning to Earth once that was possible, where he would never have to watch that kind of death again.
He had decided that Atlantis was worth it, and never regretted it. But it was always a shadow underneath everything they did, the knowledge that one bad mission could mean returning to Atlantis in a bag, a shrunken thing to be buried in a closed coffin so his family would not see what he had become.
"The Wraith have killed so many of us," he went on, shaking off the memories. "I do not want to die that way. If there is fighting in the city, or God forbid if I am ever captured, I want to have every chance."
"You know that if you are captured, having the retrovirus could mean being trapped in the feeding cells… pretty much indefinitely."
"From which there is a chance of escape. From death, not so much so."
"I'm not arguing with that," Jennifer said. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."
"I am sure."
"All right. If you're absolutely sure." She crossed to a different refrigerated cabinet and withdrew a small bottle, which she set on a tray as she began unwrapping a syringe. Her white coat was crisp, her hair drawn back in her usual tight ponytail, but there were dark circles under her eyes.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
She looked up. "What do you mean?"
"I heard about you and Rodney. I am sorry."
"Yes, well," Jennifer said. "I guess we just… aren't working out."
"He is a difficult man," Radek said. "I say this as his friend."
"He's not so bad," Jennifer said. "We just want different things, I guess. Eventually, I'd like to go home, and I don't think he does. Which is a problem."
"I am starting to settle down here, myself," Radek said. "I am not sure I will ever go back to Prague. But life in Atlantis is very much an acquired taste."
"I wish I could acquire it. Everyone else seems to have the knack."
"It is not heaven," Radek said. "It is just another small town. Not everyone wants to live in the same small town, no matter how many wonders it holds."
"I suppose not," Jennifer said. She picked up the syringe, and he could see her drawing her professional dignity back around her. "Roll up your sleeve."
The needle stung, and afterwards his arm burned. He flexed it gingerly.
"If you have any unusual symptoms, any nausea or lightheadedness, come back right away," Jennifer said.
"I will."
"If all goes well, in twelve hours we can test your immunity with a willing Wraith," Jennifer said. "Assuming there are any of those around at that point, and that you're even up for that."
Radek shifted uncomfortably. "Is that actually required?"
"It would be helpful to me in figuring out whether the formula actually works," Jennifer said. "But, again, there's an element of risk. I'm not going to ask you to do it, and certainly nobody's going to order you to do it."
He let out a breath. "I will do it," he said, although his skin crawled at the idea.
"Thank you." She glanced down at her hands and cleared her throat awkwardly. "And, umm, thank you for not deciding I'm the bad guy in this whole mess with Rodney. I know he's probably talked about it to you."
"Because when we work I am a captive audience," Radek said, and then relented. "He is my friend, and I would like him to be happy, but not at your expense."
She smiled at him, a more genuine smile that lit her face. She was only very young and a bit shy, he thought, not his romantic type, but someone who might make a good friend in time. "Thanks," she said.
"I should be thanking you," Radek said, rolling his sleeve back down. "You may have just saved me from the Wraith."
"Thank me when we know it works."
"If you believe it will work, then I trust you."
"Try not to test it by being attacked by a Wraith today, okay?"
Radek breathed a laugh. "I promise you, I will try."
John stopped in the mess hall for yet another cup of coffee, though by now his teeth were starting to feel as though they were coated with a thin film. After the real doughnuts at the briefing — O’Neill hadn’t been kidding — the long-packaged pastries still on the counter were less than appealing, and he settled for just coffee. He still wasn’t entirely sure this was going to work, but all in all he thought they had a better chance flying than staying on the planet. Of course, it would be better if Todd would just cooperate….
“Colonel Sheppard?”
He looked up, startled, to see a couple of the civilian scientists hovering uncertainly. He recognized the city’s new archeologist — well, not new, exactly, but newer than some — but not the freckled woman with him. “Yes?”
“Might we have a quick word?” That was the woman, and she seemed to realize in the same instant that he didn’t recognize her. “Claire Greensmith. I’m one of the geologists.”
John nodded. “As long as you really mean quick — yeah, go ahead.”
“Very quick, I promise.” That was Lynn, with a fleeting smile. “Colonel, how would we go about becoming essential?”
John blinked once, and then the meaning hit him. “You’d be a lot better off leaving. Both of you.”
“Yes, well.” Lynn spread his hands. “All my things are still here, and it’s just such a bother to pack —“
“We know the risk, I assure you,” Greensmith said. “It’s just — I don’t want to leave the city. Not now.”
Not ever, John thought, reading the determination in her face, and wondered if Lynn felt that same passion. “How good a shot are you?”
“Not bad, actually.” Greensmith smiled, and Lynn shrugged.
“As good as any social scientist who’s been with the SGC.”
“Passable,” John said.
Lynn nodded. “About that, yes.”
John sighed. He ought to tell them to leave, to protect themselves, but he understood loving the city, this astonishing place, alien and familiar all at once. “Exploration geologist?” he said.
Greensmith nodded.
“That sounds essential to me,” John said. He looked at Lynn. “And I’m sure you’ve memorized a lot of useful gate addresses and could help people get along on those worlds if our people have to go to ground somewhere.”