Futura Memoratia

Chapter 4 dissensio (dissent)

A few days later, Walters told Emily he’d reached a point in writing the code where he would need some input from someone with more experience before he could move forward.  She would need to talk to McKay about getting some other team members involved.  He suggested that Dr. Zelenka or McKay himself were the experts when it came to writing complicated code.

Emily frowned.  She had zero experience dealing with difficult supervisors and didn’t have a clue how to approach McKay—Jackson and Lee were diametric opposites of him.  She was completely unnerved by his contemptuous dismissal of her.  If thoughts of the ridiculous dreams popped into her head, she stomped on them.  She was determined to focus on her work, yet that was a source of frustration because she didn’t have the resources she needed to get it done—because of him!  She’d been told that her needs would be a priority.  Apparently no one told McKay.  Or he didn’t care.

She surveyed her lab in disbelief.  She had left behind a comfortable, relatively safe life—where she had finally established a few solid friendships—where her work was rewarding, fulfilling, and a source of real happiness.  Now she was alone in another galaxy, in actual, real peril, just by virtue of her location, her work, her integrity, dismissed as unimportant. 

She’d done this to herself, by hoping for something that apparently she just wasn’t meant to have.  That was just. . . she didn’t want to think about that.  She had thoughts of returning to the SGC, but dismissed them.  She had signed a contract, but that wasn’t all.  There was something about this place that had seduced her.  It was peaceful here, serene, filled with light and beauty.  Her ancestor had lived here and fled to Earth ten thousand years before and that gave her a sense of tangible connection going far beyond the fascinating sensation of being able to control doors and lights with her thoughts.  Then there was the intellectual curiosity that she couldn’t deny.  This place was a treasure trove of art, architecture and technology—an archeological find unlike anything she could dream of.  She couldn’t leave it.  Not yet.

If she was going to stay, she would have to fight for what she needed.  She just wasn’t sure how that would be accomplished.  She knew she was stubborn and that could be useful, but her first concern was how to control her temper so she didn’t sound like a lunatic.  She mentally braced herself and asked Walters to show her where she could find McKay.  When she learned his lab was just down the hall from her own, she was supremely annoyed.  He had not stopped by once to check on her progress, the surly bastard.  

The main science lab was a hive of activity.  She tracked down McKay who was hunched over a laptop typing furiously.  “Dr. McKay?”

“Yes.”  He didn’t look up.

“I am returning Walters to you and need to discuss bringing in another computer specialist.  In addition, I would like to brief a team of people who could be helpful with the other projects in my lab.  If I could present my ideas and protocols once, it would save a lot of time.”  

Moments passed and he still hadn’t looked up.  She frowned and took a step closer.  “Dr. McKay?  Excuse me, Dr. McKay, can I please have your attention for a moment?  Perhaps an appointment at a later time would be better?”

McKay finally looked up at her, irritation plain on his face. “What?  Dr. Freed.  Yes.  No.  There’s never a better time,” he said, glancing at her derisively.  Then he shifted his gaze to speak loudly to someone across the room, “Radek!  That simulation didn’t work either.  We’ll have to narrow the parameters.  Try . . . uh,” he stared off in space, right hand working at an invisible keyboard, “one-third less power, ok?”

“Yes!”  a frazzled man she assumed was Dr. Radek Zelenka rolled his eyes from across the room.  She could have sworn she heard him mutter in Czech that he had suggested that an hour before.