Seagreen

Kino Vision Number 2

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 04:03:18 GMT

I still don’t own SGU; I still don’t want to. Dr Rush is simply a very fine playground.

Kino Vision Number 2
By EllieV

The kino slipped into place, high in a corner in what they’d come to call the “mess hall”. They were having their weekly meeting, something that Colonel Young insisted on and Camile Wray organized. The kino wasn’t there for the meeting; the meetings were all the same. They were supposed to be morale boosters but what they had started out as, and remained as, were exercises in blame.

No, the kino was there for the food. It had watched Airman Becker shyly approach Inman to get some variation into their bland diet of white gloop. They had a synthetic flavoring now, though this didn’t seem to improve anyone’s mood. They bitched and went their separate ways. Becker waited until they’d gone and started cleaning up.

He frowned looking around the room. In his hand he held one of their little metal bowls. His hand made counting motions. He turned, putting down the bowl, and lifted up some of the white powder. He poured it into the bowl and measured out the water, mixing it together.

The kino followed Becker through the corridors keeping high above so it wouldn’t be noticed. Becker paused, listening for a moment as if checking something, then he moved forward. Checking to see if he was alone. The kino floated above, settling into place in its usual corner. Becker hovered waiting to see if he’d be noticed. He wasn’t so he cleared his throat.

Nicholas Rush lifted his head and blinked to get Becker into focus. The kino didn't think that anyone was ever really in focus for Dr Rush.

“I brought your rations, sir,” Becker said.

Rush didn’t say anything. His brow creased as if puzzled, as if he didn’t know what Becker was doing there. Becker held out the bowl and when Rush didn’t take it, placed it on the top of the console, backing away. He waited a moment and then turned to leave. The kino didn’t follow Becker; it waited for Rush.

He didn’t pick up the bowl immediately; he looked towards the corridor where Becker had gone. Almost gingerly he picked up the bowl and spooned the gloop into his mouth. It wasn’t much, it never was, so he finished it quickly. Rush looked thoughtful, tapping the spoon against the side of the bowl. He picked up his notebook and pen and put them in his pocket. He took the bowl and walked out.

The kino followed him, careful to scoot along the ceiling. If anyone was going to notice it, Rush would. He went into the mess hall where Becker was still cleaning up.

“It’s banana,” Rush said.

Becker stopped and said in a pleased voice, “Yes, sir. It’s just synthetic, though.”

“It’s good,” Rush said. Becker beamed but Rush still had that odd look of puzzlement on his face. “You don’t have to bring me food, Becker.”

“Would you remember, sir?” Becker asked. “You never did at Icarus; you never ate in the officer’s mess.”

Rush’s face twitched; some information about not eating in the officer’s mess that the kino was missing.

“No, I never ate in the officer’s mess,” he agreed. “Are there any more flavors?”

“Dr Inman’s working on some, sir,” Becker said.

“Don’t do cauliflower,” Rush recommended. He put the bowl down. His voice was quiet. “Thank you, Becker.”

The kino didn’t follow; it watched Becker clean up.

Finis

This is the second in a series of vignettes inspired by the kino webisodes at the MGM website, this one by Kino 13: Variety. Not all of these very short stories will concentrate on Rush. I’ll try to do another tomorrow but an assignment is calling me, sadly.

Kino Vision Number 1

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 12:32:15 GMT

I still don't own SGU; I still don't want to. I just like playing with Dr Rush.

Kino Vision Number 1
By EllieV

The kino sat high above in a corner so no one would notice it. Set to record for playback later on. It was sitting in the most interesting part of the ship. Not even Eli noticed it now even though he was the one who set it there.

It floated, silently watching Nicholas Rush as he sat flicking through screens on the console before him. His shoulders were hunched up around his neck. Every now and again, he pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes.

It hadn’t been a good day, yet another in a long line of not good days. Bad days outweighed the good. It didn’t really matter what the scenario because it always followed the same script: something happened, Young and Rush argued, things got fixed just in time to stop the ship blowing up or similar. The tension ratcheted up because although Rush was invariably right, Young disagreed and Rush was obnoxious.

It was late and sensible people were in bed but Rush wasn’t exactly sensible, although what was most off-putting was more that edge of crazy that he could exude when he got obsessed by something.

“Oh hey,” a voice said. Eli came into range. “You’re still up.”

Rush’s head came up slowly and he looked at Eli as if he didn’t know who he was. After a couple of seconds, he said, “I’m working.”

“You’re always working,” Eli said. “Seriously, man, take a break sometime.”

Rush rubbed his eyes again and ignored the comment. Eli watched him for a moment and shrugged, leaving. Rush’s head turned slightly as if checking that he was alone again. His shoulders hunched back up around his neck. Even so, concentrating as he was, Rush jumped slightly when Eli blundered back in.

“Uh, hey listen,” Eli said hovering. “About today …” Rush said nothing. “Look, about what Chloe said. You know, she didn’t mean it; I mean, I don't know if you ever have lost anyone but just in case, uh, she was just angry, okay.”

Rush said nothing, though he lifted his head a little and glanced at Eli, apparently indifferent to what Chloe said. He kept flicking through screens and the kino had no doubt that he comprehended every one.

“Anyway …” Eli finished awkwardly. “Uh, night.”

“Good night, Eli,” Rush said absently.

He left and Rush paused the screens. His hands came up and covered his eyes and the kino noticed something it hadn’t noticed before.

A wedding ring.

Finis

Note:
This is the first in a series of vignettes, somewhat inspired by the Kino vids on the MGM site. Yes, it's an SF trope to give a machine a POV but that's what tropes are for: to be overused ... :)

The Last Rolo

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 01:06:24 GMT

Disclaimer: Thus far, I’m not that fond of SGU. Thus far, for me, the only sympathetic character is Dr Rush who, aside from the occasional meltdown, is actually rather polite to those who clearly despise him. My liking for Dr Rush is possibly because he’s Robert Carlyle so while I don’t own SGU or its characters, on the upside I don’t especially want to. Carlyle, that’s another matter altogether.

The Last Rolo
(aka Dr Rush Finds a Friend)
By EllieV

Nicholas Rush scowled across the room at the woman perched on the stool. She was behind the other console so he could really only see the top of her head. She had taken no notice of him since Young brought her in. Indeed, she’d barely looked at him then. It was the fact that she was here at all. It was that he didn’t know why she couldn’t work anywhere else.

“This is Dr Welland,” Young had said without preamble. “She’s doing some research.”

He didn’t say what sort of research. He didn’t say why she had to be here rather than anywhere else. He’d introduced her and left. She’d plugged in her notebook, sat on the floor, and said nothing. Ten hours later, she’d unplugged the notebook, got up and left. This had continued for a week. The only change was that on the second day, the stool had made an appearance and occasionally she disappeared late morning for half an hour or so. Not all the time, just every now and again. When she came back, she sat down again, plugged in her notebook, and ignored him. She ignored Eli as well and anyone else who came in. After a while, the only person who seemed to notice she was there was Rush. It was like seeing something just on the horizon. Barely there but noticeable enough to be irritating.

Rush rubbed his eyes. Sure, he’d made progress but not enough and far too slowly. He glanced at his watch. On cue, Dr Welland stood, unplugged her notebook, and picked up her stool. She had taken it away with her each day. Rush knew his people skills weren’t the best but he gave it a try.

He said, “Good night, Dr Welland.”

She said, “Good night, Dr Rush.”

She left and Rush continued working. The next morning she was already there when he arrived.

He said, “Good morning, Dr Welland.”

There was no reply so he said nothing further. It wasn’t until the middle of the day when she stood that he realized she was wearing headphones, plugged into her notebook.

He repeated, “Good morning, Dr Welland.”

“Good morning, Dr Rush,” she said as she moved towards the door.

That was it for another two weeks. Good morning and good night. One night, Rush varied his farewell and said, “Good evening, Dr Welland.”

She said, “Good evening, Dr Rush.”

The following morning, Rush arrived late. He heard voices. Young and Welland. Young seemed to have just arrived.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

She was polite. “Fine, thank you.”

“Are you making progress?” Young asked.

“Yes,” she said.

Young was the chatty sort so he didn’t like closed statements. “What sort of progress?” he persisted.

“Good progress,” she said.

There was a pause then Young said, a note of impatience in his voice, “Could you explain your progress? In detail?”

It was Welland’s turn to pause. “Certainly,” she said. “But I don’t think you dropped by to speak to me about the evolution of Latin verbs.”

“I came to see Rush,” said Young. Rush stiffened. “How are you getting along with him?”

She repeated, “Fine, thank you.”

“He’s not being difficult?” asked Young.

“Certainly not,” Welland said, sounding affronted.

Rush had a sudden vision getting a gold star for his good behavior. Welland reminded him of Margaret Thatcher in Falklands mode. He had a schoolteacher just like her. All thick glasses and battleaxed.

“Rush hasn’t yelled at you once,” said Young skeptically.

She sounded astonished. “Why would Dr Rush yell at me?” There was a slight emphasis, he thought, on “Doctor”, as if she disapproved of Young not using his title. “What a very odd thing to say, Colonel. Perhaps you should simply leave Dr Rush a note if you need to speak to him.” Her tone was dismissive.

Rush faded back into one of Destiny’s darkened alcoves as Young came out looking irritated. He limped away. Rush waited a few minutes then went into the control room. There was no note from Young. Welland was just plugging in her notebook.

She looked up and said, “Good morning, Dr Rush.”

He said, “Good morning, Dr Welland.”

She put on her headphones and sat on her stool. Rush watched her for a moment and went back to work.

At the end of the day he said, “Good night, Dr Welland.”

She replied, “Good night, Dr Rush.”

The next day Rush was interrupted by a steady stream of visitors; Welland ignored them all. Young didn’t come back. Rush didn’t know what he had wanted and he didn’t seek Young out to ask. The next day was quieter and there was something new.

Welland had a flask and a box next to her. A flask. They had water now. Mid-morning she pulled a mug out of the box and undid the flask.

She looked up and said politely, “Would you care for some tea, Dr Rush?”

Tea? She had tea?

Rush said disconcerted, “I’m not fond of black tea.”

She held up a container. “I’m afraid it’s only powdered.”

She had milk. Powdered milk but it was milk.

“Dare I ask if there’s also sugar?” Rush said hopefully.

He could have sworn there was a twinkle behind the thick lenses of her glasses. She did indeed have sugar. Little sachets, as if she’d raided a café. She handed him the cup from the top of the flask and poured the tea. It steamed. Milk, sugar, he was in heaven.

He lowered his voice. “Does anyone else know about this?” he asked.

She sounded affronted. “Certainly not.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said, feeling immediately stupid for saying so.

They drank their tea in silence. And so it went on; each mid-morning, they had tea. No conversation, just tea. A greeting, tea, a farewell.

One day he plucked up the courage—as they drank her apparently inexhaustible supply of tea— to ask what Welland was working on. She hesitated, eyeing him thoughtfully.

“I have a theory,” she said. “Perhaps you could assist.”

He was instantly wary of doing anything for Young. “I’ll try,” he said neutrally.

“The language changes,” she said. “Very old and then evolving to the Ancient language we’re used to. New words being introduced, meanings changing. I think Destiny once received updates. I haven’t yet worked out if she still does. It will depend on crossmatching the language from the Atlantis database, which is the most recent we have, to what Destiny uses. The Ancients don’t seem to have been big on dating anything, unfortunately, and I suppose when you’re planning on ascending time becomes a bit meaningless.”

His face darkened as he listened, his mind working overtime. He should have been told this. Young should have told him; so much for being on the same page. He said between his teeth, “This is what you’ve been working on for Colonel Young.”

“Goodness me, no,” she said dismissively. “I simply said I wanted to continue my study of Ancient. I prefer to work quietly. I’d never have got any peace if Colonel Young thought Destiny was receiving updates.”

“You could work from anywhere,” he said.

“People don’t tend to disturb you, Dr Rush,” she said. “You prefer to work alone.” She took a sip of her tea. “I imagine you were a trifle put out when I turned up and for my imposition upon your reputation, I apologize.”

There wasn’t much he could say to that. If he said he wasn’t annoyed, he’d be lying and she’d know it; if he said he was, he’d simply be rude and there was the possibility she’d go and take her research and her tea with her. That was the important bit, he told himself.

He simply said, “Perhaps you could show me what you have so far.”

“Certainly,” she said.

It was in-depth, scientific and extremely well put together. He suggested a couple of avenues she could explore for which she thanked him. He went back to work; she went back to work. At the end of the day, she stood, took off her headphones and unplugged her notebook, picking up her stool and box.

“Good night, Dr Rush,” she said.

“Good night, Dr Welland,” he said.

The next day at morning tea, they briefly discussed her work and he mentioned what he was doing. She asked some questions. He answered them.

Three hours later, Young came by demanding to know why the lights were off in the gateroom.

“I switched them off,” Rush said, surprised. “Colonel, just because Destiny has recharged it doesn’t mean every single light has to be on. The more we conserve power, the longer it lasts. There’s no need for the gateroom to be bathed in light when there’s no one there.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Rush,” Young snapped. “I told you we had to be on the same page; you tell me when you’re doing something.”

“Switching off a light?” Rush asked incredulously.

“I am this close …” Young started to say but Welland interrupted.

“Is this noise necessary, gentlemen?” Welland asked. “I am trying to work and it is difficult to concentrate with all this bellowing.”

She sounded very annoyed. Young hadn’t actually bellowed. It was more of a hiss.

Young said, “I’m sorry, Dr Welland, but all I want …”

“Is for Dr Rush to switch on the lights in the gateroom, yes, I heard,” she interrupted him. “I don’t understand why; it seems quite logical to leave them off. But, if it creates some quiet, by all means, switch them on please, Dr Rush. You’re clearly upset about something, Colonel; perhaps something that happened on your trip to Earth earlier today via the communications stones? I don’t know, but it is unfair to take your upset out on others. Please take your temper elsewhere, sir.”

Young opened his mouth to respond but Welland put her headphones back on. She raised an eyebrow and pointedly nodded towards the doorway. Young looked taken back. He glanced at Rush who pressed the button to switch the lights back on.

“Good luck,” Young muttered. He limped out with a glare at Welland.

Rush paused, watching Welland, who looked up at him. Her eyes widened innocently behind her glasses. He felt his mouth twitch. At the end of the day she stood, taking off her headphones, and unplugging her notebook. She picked up her box of supplies and shifted her stool to behind the console.

“Have a good evening, Dr Welland,” Rush said.

“You, too, Dr Rush,” Welland replied.

When Rush got back to his quarters, he rummaged around in his backpack. He thought he had something, just a little something to repay her for getting rid of Young. He arrived early the next day. Welland arrived around ten minutes later. She frowned at him.

“I hope you weren’t here all night, Dr Rush,” she said reprovingly.

“I left shortly after you, Dr Welland,” he said.

“Good,” she said. She walked around the console and stopped, looking down at her stool. She turned to him and said, “I hope that’s not your last Rolo, Dr Rush.”

It was.

“No,” he denied. He flushed, thoroughly embarrassed.

They had their morning tea in silence.

At the end of the day, he said, “Good evening, Dr Welland.”

She replied, “Good evening, Dr Rush.”

Finis.

*****

Note: The last Rolo may not be familiar to those outside the UK. It’s a long-time ad campaign for Rolos, small caramely filled chocolates, which worked on the idea that if you give someone your last Rolo, you’ve just declared undying love.

New Thoughtcrimes fic

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 05:18:40 GMT

I have a few Thoughtcrimes fic, posted at ff.net

The Danger of Human Illusion

All the Good Stories

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 06:08:24 GMT

If you're here to read All the Good Stories, please start on 15 April.

Feedback is more than welcome. My other stories can be found at fanfiction.net.