Amy Griswold - The Lost

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t sure,” John said.

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

“Now you sound like Dr. Robinson.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

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

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

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

“I thought it kept you from getting bored.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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