Chapter Text
‘It’s a what?’ Sheppard asked, crooking a sceptical eyebrow at McKay. He was always a little bit wary of this exuberant version of his friend. It usually meant there was some sort of disaster on the horizon, normally of McKay’s making.
‘According to the database,’ McKay said, ‘it was some sort of Ancient ascension machine…’
‘Do I really have to remind you what happened the last time you found one of those?’
‘Ah, but this one isn’t meant to cause ascension. It’s an aid, as it were. A way of getting rid of personal demons, anything that might be holding you back. I could’ve used it back then, but for some reason, the Ancients decided to house this in a totally different bit of the city.’
Sheppard sloped along beside him, really not in the mood for another failed Ancient project, and he couldn’t get his mind off that group of wannabe Ancients he’d spent six months with and all their hippie crap. A machine that did the same kind of thing was hardly something to get excited about. Unless you were McKay.
‘So what does it do?’
‘Well, we’re not totally sure,’ McKay carries on, ‘but it seems to be a variation on the sort of virtual reality simulation they were using on the Aurora, only this is tuned directly into the mind of the person using it rather than sticking them in a shared environment. It’s meant to read your darkest secrets and help you face up to them.’
‘Sounds terrible.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. You see, the Ancients refer to these “dark secrets” all throughout the database entry as “desideria-occulta”. Hidden desires.’
Sheppard perked up at that, while McKay just grinned at him, waiting for him to catch on.
‘You mean this is a…’
‘If I’m right, this was something the Ancients used to, er… get it out of their system, as it were. Suppose you can’t ascend if you’re still pining over someone.’
‘Or too horny,’ Sheppard muttered.
‘I think the point was more to explore the emotional side of the relationship, not just to provide the good folks of Atlantis with their own personal sex scenario…’
‘But that’s what it does,’ said Sheppard.
‘Well, yes. But that’s over-simplifying the point of the…’ McKay trailed off and Sheppard realised his friend was frowning at him. ‘I lost you at sex machine, didn’t I?’
‘Why, did you say something else?’
By the time they reached the murky lab in the depths of the west pier, only Zelenka was still working on the device. McKay wasn’t too annoyed at that for once. The others who’d been there to get the thing working would only have sniggered and judged if they knew he was planning on testing it out. Everyone who found out about the damn thing just assumed the same thing, that it was some kind of porn simulator. Which, he supposed, it could be, just like Sheppard had said, but McKay liked to think he was more intellectual than that and could use the machine to explore something way more profound. Start with dinner maybe and a long discussion on his latest thoughts on the interaction between the Higgs field and zero-point modules. If, after all that, something physical happened, it would be meaningful.
‘There’s only two beds,’ Sheppard observed, pointing to the couches attached to the device.
‘Wait ‘til you get in there, you can imagine any number you want,’ Zelenka muttered.
‘Have you tried it out?’
‘No, no,’ Zelenka answered, a little too quickly for McKay to entirely believe him. ‘I only looked at some of the protocols. By using the neural link instead of a pre-programmed simulation, there really be no limit on the backgrounds and scenarios available.’
‘Yes, so even the most perverted mind should be catered for,’ McKay remarked, throwing Sheppard a sideways glance. Sheppard ignored him and stood gazing down at the couch.
‘So, what do we do?’
‘Exactly the same as the Aurora,’ said McKay. ‘Just lie back and, eh… think of Atlantis.’
‘There’s not going to be any Wraith in there, is there?’
‘Not unless that’s your particular preference,’ Zelenka replied.
Sheppard still didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and clambered down onto the couch. Zelenka fiddled with the controls, checking every so often on his tablet, then the cover sank down over Sheppard’s head. Unlike the Aurora pods, the shell here was opaque, so maybe the Ancients did anticipate getting into some embarrassing situations, McKay thought.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Keep an eye on our vitals. Remember, it’s perfectly possible we’ll both suffer a slightly elevated heart rate, so no need to panic unless something is really wrong.’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘I mean it Radek. I don’t want dragged back here when I’m… in the middle of something.’
‘Something?’
McKay chose to ignore that. ‘Just plug me in.’
He climbed awkwardly onto his couch, trying not to think about how cramped the space inside was. When the casing descended, it took a couple of square breathing sessions to stop him from completely panicking, but then before he could really think about it, he blinked and was standing in a marble-floored hall full of columns and flimsy drapes that covered archways. Sunlight streamed through and glinted off gilt decorations on almost every surface. A fountain trickled quietly in the centre, surrounded by low couches upholstered in purple velvet. McKay frowned. He had never seen this place before. What’s more, he was alone.
The stupid machine didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. Why had he ever thought it would? That just once the Ancients would keep going until they finished something. Unless of course Zelenka screwed something up. That was a possibility. Another thing he should’ve expected. How anyone thought he would ever manage any meaningful research with these kinds of handicaps was beyond even McKay’s genius. Right then, he wondered if the machine could read that in his mind, let him act out one of his dark desires and murder Zelenka. The setting was nice and all, but all that sunshine was just a UV risk he could feel aging his skin as the seconds past, and where were all the scantily clad women? Where was Sam Carter in a diaphanous robe or something?
‘This sucks,’ he muttered.
No doubt Sheppard’s program would work. He’d be enjoying himself already. In the middle of an orgy with a never-ending supply of beer and popcorn and hamburgers. That was when McKay realised he was hungry. Yeah, this was not going very well.
Sheppard grinned as he surveyed the casino and sipped the weird but strangely tasty cocktail some waitress had handed him as he drifted around the gaming tables. The place was bustling, but what he noticed particularly was that beside a couple of croupiers, he was the only guy. The rest were all women, every height, build, hair colour, all rocking the sort of sparkly gowns a Bond girl might pick out of a wardrobe. He had no idea where to start, so decided to just wander around, see who caught his eye, whose eye he caught.
He paused for a while to watch a craps game, until he felt a nudge at his elbow and turned round to see a waitress pushing a tray towards him, loaded with more drinks. He picked up a glass, maintaining eye contact as he sipped it, then the waitress handed him a card, turn and headed off into the crowd.
Sheppard turned the card over and smiled. It was a room key, printed with the number 69. Cute, he thought, then weaved through the gamblers, looking for an elevator or staircase.
Following the signs, he made his way along the anonymous hotel corridor above the casino and looked for door 69, already excited by what might be on the other side of the door. If the girls downstairs were anything to go by, whatever was waiting in that room ought to be fantastic.
Out of the blue, though, he wondered what McKay was doing then very quickly pushed the thought away. One thing that would kill the mood more than anything would be allowing any of McKay’s weird fantasies to cross his mind, especially in a simulation like this. He slipped the card into the slot and watched the little light go green as the lock mechanism clicked open, then he pushed the door and went inside.
As he followed the little hallway past the room’s bathroom, he saw a pool of light ahead and let his stomach tighten in anticipation, so he deliberately slowed before turning into the main area to see what was waiting for him.
Then he stood and stared, thinking the light had to be weird or the program was glitching because that couldn’t be right. Sitting up in the bed, presumably naked, was not the slim, 36DD brunette he’d been imagining. What he had instead was a five-eight scruffy little Czech holding the sheet up to his collarbone like the hero in an old romantic comedy.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Sheppard demanded.
‘I have literally no idea,’ Zelenka replied.
‘Did you mess with this thing?’
‘No, I swear.’
‘Really? Hell of a coincidence, then,’ Sheppard sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ‘How do I get out of this?’
‘Out of what, the room?’
‘The simulation. This.’ He gestured at the bedroom and the admittedly impressive view of the glittering city lights beyond the tall windows.
‘Colonel,’ Zelenka began, propping himself up on one elbow, ‘this is your scenario linked to your subconscious. You should be able to control the content. I’m only… like a sprite in a computer game. I cannot change anything.’
‘Okay,’ Sheppard said and closed his eyes. He tried to picture the waitress who’d given him the room card. He imagined her spread out on that bed, which would be blissfully Zelenka-free, her body tanned beneath her lace lingerie. He opened one eye then cursed.
‘Radek, why don’t you try leaving the room? Maybe that’ll set the program back on track or something.’
Zelenka, who at least had the decency looked mortified with embarrassment at the whole situation, nodded, and started scrambling towards the edge of the bed, keeping himself covered beneath the sheet.
‘Could you get me a towel or something?’ he asked.
Sighing, Sheppard went into the bathroom and grabbed the biggest towel he could find. The less of Zelenka he saw the better. Zelenka wrapped the towel around himself whilst still under the sheet, then slipped out of the bed and headed for the door, head low, clutching the towel to his waist.
‘Good night, Radek, and if you see any women out there who look lost, they’re probably looking for me,’ Sheppard called after him.
He listened to the room door closing then exhaled. Trust another one of McKay’s little projects to play up. And it had to be this one, the first thing in ages he could actually imagine some kind of use for. Not that he imagined Elizabeth would let him keep it, but then that only became a problem if Elizabeth found out about it.
For want of anything better to do, he went to the minibar and helped himself to a whisky miniature. Might as well take advantage of the free room, even if it wasn’t real. Then he sat on the bed and, growing bored after a few minutes, picked up the TV remote and started flicking through the channels.
Like probably about ninety-nine per cent of TVs in hotels like this, the TV was already sitting on one of the porn channels, but for once, it wasn’t asking for his credit card. Instead, it dived straight into a scene, some sort of sci-fi thing. Your typical mad scientist in a white coat circled an examination table, on which the unfortunate victim was strapped down, totally naked. Sheppard tried to switch channels to see if he could find something with women, but this seemed to be the only thing on. Gay porn was still porn, he thought, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
Evil scientist pulled a toggle on the wall in a really hammy way and started up a machine attached to the bottom of the table, which then thrust a huge dildo on a stick back and forth into the ass of the guy strapped to the table, who groaned through the bandages he’d been gagged with.
There was still no sign of any women, Sheppard thought as he downed the last of the scotch. This program sucked. On his screen, meanwhile, the evil scientist had flicked open his lab coat to reveal that he wasn’t wearing any pants, and had levelled himself with the prisoner’s face, about to force his cock down the other guy’s throat by the looks of things.
Then the grainy picture showed a close up of the evil scientist and Sheppard nearly choked. He closed his eyes, trying like crazy to shove the image into that deep, dark corner for things he never, ever wanted to think about again. Otherwise, he’d never be able to look Rodney in the face again.
So maybe it wasn’t Radek who’d screwed up. Maybe Rodney was up to something on his side of the simulation that was polluting his setup. Definitely the figure on Mr Evil Scientist was straight out of Rodney’s imagination. McKay wished he was that big. Then the camera cut to the other guy and Sheppard almost laughed. Well, that served Radek right for intruding and scaring off the babes. He watched for a few seconds as Zelenka gagged and tried to protest while McKay continued to ram his ridiculously huge member into his mouth, then he shook his head and turned the TV off.