Stargate Atlantis: Brain Storm

By Wolfen Moondaughter

All do respect to Gero, Staite, and most especially Hewlett and my McKeller-loving readers, but I am declaring this edition of the column to be a severely “Anti-McKeller” zone. Those who would be bothered/offended by such perceptions should turn back now …. My sincerest apologies to the above parties, but in the immortal words of Popeye, “I yam what I yam” — I see what I see and feel what I feel.

This column is so very late this time because, with the holiday break, I decided to take some time off — and because I was dreading having to watch the ep again (and again, as writing this column often necessitates multiple viewings of scenes). But writing an ongoing, critical column like this means I have to take the bad with the good and be honest, right? And just cross my fingers that the next one will be back up to my usual standards, rather than being tortuous to watch ….

Oh, Gero, my heart is broken. While the ep had its funny moments, even putting McKeller aside (which is hard to do, given how much there was of it), it wasn’t, in my radmittedly not-humble-nor-unbiased opinion, to be counted amongst your best — frankly, not even close. I expect great things from you, and have the bar set very high. But with that ending, I fear that you may have made it immeasurably harder to enjoy the last episodes — I suppose I should thank you for making it easier to say goodbye to the series ….

The science was a hokey, too (how does that happen when you have an episode that includes actual scientists??), a little too convenient for the plot. They just happened to build the containment field so that it was tied into the bridge? Wha …? And why precisely did the guy need to send the heat to another dimension, anyway? What was the explanation as to why he couldn’t just send it into our own space? And why didn’t Rodney lecture him about ruining other realities, after his own experience? Yeah, I’m sure Rodney’s friend Rod would love it if we were worsening the global-warming sitch in his own dimension!

I had really hoped that Gero could change my mind in the McKeller department. Instead, the nicest thing I can say was that Keller at least seemed enthusiastic when she kissed Rodney this time. Still no actual chemistry, in my eyes, though, and Keller was still a Mary-Sue. Worse, Rodney became a bit of a Mary-Sue (well, a Marty-Stu, rather) as well, which is damn hard to get me to admit when we’re a) talking about a lead, since they are supposed to save the day, and b) we are talking about my very fave character, whom I naturally want to see as a star/centre of attention!

If I didn’t hate Keller before, I certainly do now. Which is frustrating, because I loved Staite in Firefly, and liked Keller fairly well last season.

Well, let’s get this over with — brace yourselves ….

5.16: “Brain Storm”

Our story begins with John and Ronon getting food in the mess. Ronon asks if John’s sure that he doesn’t want to spend his two-week vacation on Earth. (Now that’s curious; I understand the point of this scene is to establish why John’s not going to Earth with Rodney and Keller — as if we really needed a reason — but why is Ronon asking like that? Is it that he wanted to go to Earth himself but didn’t want to go without John? Or that he’s hoping to get a break from the man? *Snicker*) John explains that the three-week journey on the Daedalus means five weeks of missed work, and since they only get one such trip every year-and-a-half (unless your father dies or your sister is kidnapped), he wants to save it for something special. “So we’re going camping?” Ronon asks unenthusiastically. (Guess he wanted to go to Earth. Well, he could always go do that with Rodney and Keller! *Snicker*) John explains that they’re going to a virgin beach to surf. (And the John/Ronon shippers go wild. Me, I think it’s too bad that they didn’t show them actually on that vacation, since Flanigan and Momoa both surf! I would have rather watched that than this episode ….) John then espies Rodney and Keller sitting together, laughing, and asks Ronon if he thinks Rodney will ever make a move. (I tell myself John is hoping Rodney won’t and is burning with jealousy. Hey, it helps me enjoy at least one small part of the ep.) Ronon asks who cares (clearly still nettled that Keller turned him down) and walks away. After sparing the duo another thoughtful look and a “Hmmm…”, John shakes his head, then hurries after Ronon.

At the McKeller table, Rodney says that he knows they only get fourteen days on Earth a year, but he’s hoping that Keller might go with him to this secret presentation from one of his colleagues. By showing up with a beautiful woman, he’s hoping to negate the perception that everyone has of him that he’s a recluse loser who can’t get a girl; thanks to his top-secret work, it seems Rodney hasn’t been seen or heard from in the scientific community in a decade or so. (Love how Rodney starts to say that the guy giving the presentation is an old friend, but changes it to a guy who got his doctorate at the same time. *Snicker* Well, you have to give Rodney props for his honesty.) Keller points out that going to a gathering with a bunch of people she doesn’t know who will be talking about things she doesn’t understand doesn’t sound like much fun. McKay says that there will be drinks and those little sandwiches, and adds, hesitantly, that he will be there. Keller says that he doesn’t need to fabricate reasons for her to go; if he wants her to go out with him, he should just ask her. (Funny, that’s what I thought he was doing. It’s obvious his self-esteem’s not too high, Keller; maybe you could have said, more graciously, “Yes, Rodney, I would love to go and spend more time with you,” instead of saying that you aren’t interested in going in the first place? Yeah, okay, doing it this way may make the scene more amusing, but it is not endearing her to me. The guy’s obviously nervous and having a tough time, and she has to make it that much harder for him? Not to mention that his complaining about his current standing in the scientific community isn’t an act, as much as she would like to assume this is all about asking her out. He really is concerned about how his peers perceive him, and instead of lending support, like he’s asked for here, she spends much of the rest of the episode belittling him for being “petty”!) He asks her if she’d go with him; she agrees, declaring it a date, which seems to astonish him a little. She asks what the presentation is about; he doesn’t know, but figures it will be a “first-class presentation with second-class science.” He figures there will at least be good food; she say there will be good company, too. (Okay, I have to give her props for that, at least. Now if only she could stay that way …. Yeah, I know, Rodney’s got his own share of bad personality; I’m sure there are anti-Rodney fans who think he’s not good enough for her, either. And they have every right to feel that way, but at least Rodney’s feelings for her are far more believable to me than her supposed ones for him are.)

We see a complex on Earth. Inside it, one man asks a man named Malcolm (Dave Foley, from Kids in the Hall) if he’s seen a report from the staff which says that the thing they’re planning to do the next day isn’t safe; Malcolm replies that only some of the staff feel that way, and that it’s “unfounded histrionics”. They keep talking about it, but Malcolm remains resolute that, while there are bad risks, they aren’t worth worrying about, insisting that the other man’s “cause” will come out “squeaky clean”. (Well, apparently Rodney’s egotistical attitude and overconfidence in his scientific ability isn’t so uncommon in the scientific community; he’s a product of his environment, it seems.)

Rodney and Keller are aboard a private jet. Keller is impressed, while Rodney isn’t fooled buy his rival’s generosity. Keller wonders how the man could afford it; Rodney explains that Malcolm has always been good at talking people into giving him money. (Which becomes a set-up for a later story point; that much, I can appreciate. But Keller, you know the jet was provided by Rodney’s rival and that his self-esteem is delicate; could you stop gushing over the nice things said rival has provided? You being unimpressed would go a long way towards making Rodney feel better!) Keller gets exasperated by the fact that Rodney can’t be happy for his associate. (Apparently she’s never learned the story of the Trojan horse. It’s fairly obvious that the plane and its accoutrements are meant to be rubbed in Rodney’s face rather than meant with goodwill. Granted, Keller’s nice for giving said rival the benefit of the doubt, but it also says she doesn’t trust Rodney’s judgment and simply finds him petty — she doesn’t love the whole, only that bit of him she saw when he was under the influence of the parasite. She seems to think he could just get rid of the nasty part of him and be that guy again. Well, that guy was only part of what Rodney was, now wasn’t he? He’d been forgetting the things that soured his life, that shaped him. She might as well lobotomise him. If Rodney’s going to be a good person, I’d rather see him come by it honestly, by his own realisations, not because he’s chastised into behaving how his girlfriend thinks he ought to; that was already a problem with him being with Katie Brown! I had thought it was nice that he was trying to be good with her, at least at first, but I came to loath him acting so unnaturally for someone else’s sake….)

Annoyed, Keller asks if he’s going to be in a bad mood all day, saying that other people would be enjoying the posh accommodations. (Then I guess other people are either ostriches with their heads in the sand or users who are perfectly willing to take advantage of people’s generosity even if they have a problem with the person in question. If Malcolm were truly Rodney’s dear friend, it would be different, of course, but I think it’s entirely reasonable for Rodney to be uncomfortable accepting gifts from an enemy and be bitter at the prospect of watching the man get praise that Rodney has been denied. I also find it disturbing that she doesn’t care where her fun is coming from. What if it turned out that the guy who provided it all had actually killed people to get where he was? Or gotten his money from the mob? Would she be able to have a great time then? Or what if the guy was giving it all to her because she was beautiful — would she accept the fun even if she wasn’t interested back? And lastly, I’m annoyed that here Rodney is, maudlin about his situation, and she’s basically reprimanding him for killing her buzz rather than being a sympathetic ear.) Rodney concedes her point and, to mollify her, eats a strawberry, despite his having said that, after eating a big bowlful as a child, they now make him sick. (Thus proving that his refusal to eat them had more to do with not wanting to accept more than he has to from his rival than an actual aversion to strawberries, I guess? Never mind that one of his selling points for her to come to the gala was that there would be good food — unless he didn’t intend to eat there himself?) He sees a picture of his rival, Malcolm, with the Dalai Lama (proof, I feel, that Rodney is right about Malcolm’s intentions and Keller is dead wrong), and loses his appetite.

They arrive at the complex we saw earlier, where we first saw Malcolm. When they get to the registration desk, the attendant forks over two massive, novel-length non-disclosure/confidentiality agreements for them to sign. Rodney is outraged; the man explains that if they don’t sign, they won’t be let it. Keller immediately starts to sign (with me screaming that only an idiot signs something without reading it first, no matter how long it is), while Rodney asks (in a wickedly funny and scathing way) if there are dinosaurs back there, because that’s pretty much all he can think of that would be worth signing the thing for. Keller shakes her head and tells him to just sign it; chagrined, Rodney does without further protest, just a comment to the clerk that he’s lucky the lady is there. (As you may have guessed, I’m seething here. Keller thinks she’s helping him to be a better person, but instead she just seems to be spurring him to go against his better judgement. Thank Gaia he didn’t listen to her in “The Last Man”, when she told him that she didn’t want him wasting the rest of his life trying to bring her back — as if she were the only thing at stake! As if he hadn’t lost other people that meant the world to him: John, Teyla. Ronon. As if the fate of billions in the Pegasus galaxy hadn’t been riding on Rodney’s continued efforts at what he studied all his life for. Should he have become a flower vendor or some other peaceable vocation, instead of dedicating the rest of his life to what he could do that few — if any — others could? She doesn’t know him very well if she doesn’t think Rodney’s work is his bliss. She badgers him to be better behaved yet, at the time, thought he would be better off doing something other than benefitting all humanity with his work, simply because she couldn’t handle the guilt of being one one the things that caused him to give up his life, at least as she saw it? And people call Rodney selfish?? I’m literally snarling at the screen at this point, my gut reaction is so overwhelmingly hostile. To those who would like to tell me “It’s just a TV show,” storytelling is, to me, a sacred thing that I take very seriously. Yes, I do react from the very core of my being, be it with love or with disgust, to the writings of others. It’s that important to me. If fiction-writing isn’t your calling, or it is but you don’t get so worked up over it, well bully for you, and just be thankful you’re not me then, I guess. Not to mention that, after doing so much to support the show, just as MGM and TPTB asked, this ep almost felt like a mortal blow, at least to me; the only thing that would have made it worse is if they’d killed off McKay ….)

A bit later, we see McKeller standing about, looking at the crowd, a full plate in Rodney’s hand and a glass of champagne in Keller’s. (Because Keller loves to drink and Rodney loves to eat. *Snicker*) Keller asks where he thinks they’re at; Rodney muses Arizona, remarking that secret facilities are “so 1950s”. Keller rolls her eyes at him. (*Snarl* Well, at least I can enjoy Rodney in his lovely tux.) Bill Nye (the “Science Guy” — ooh, I watched him back when he was in Almost Live, and on his kid’s show, too) and Neil deGrasse Tyson find them, shocked to see Rodney. They assume Keller is his sister; Rodney is rueful and reserved as he simply says that she isn’t, then introduces her. Tyson suggests that she probably knows him from TV; she lies through her teeth, saying of course she does. (Now, if she’d been honest, she could have put Tyson in his place and bumped up Rodney’s self-esteem to boot! I do think it’s funny that, after Sam had told Keller about Tyson in “Trio”, now she gets to meet him. This is probably the ultimate in call-backs!) Tyson gets friendly with her; Rodney says she’s taken. Tyson insists he didn’t mean it like that. Rodney explains to Keller that Tyson like to steal things like women and physics ideas from him. Tyson asks smugly who hasn’t “stolen” an idea from Rodney. Nye explains to Keller that whenever someone revealed a new idea, Rodney was always saying that he was already working on something like it and just hadn’t published yet. Tyson backs Nye up. (While it’s entirely possible what they’re saying is true, for one thing, judging by the behaviors of the scientists over the course of the episode, I find it hard to imagine that such is not a common personality quirk in the scientists, and for another, for all we know, Rodney could have been telling the truth, at least some of the time! Perhaps he lagged behind because he took more care, took a bit more time to look at the after-effects, back when he wasn’t pressured by the fate of the galaxy? Malcolm certainly didn’t take care and time with his own experiment! Now granted, this is all a set-up for a later story-point: the idea that Rodney cries wolf, so to speak, so no one takes his warning seriously. But I don’t think Keller’s agreeing with the other guys was integral to the plot, especially since we already know, instantly, that he’s right when the time comes. There is no possibility that Rodney’s lying; we saw the experiment he talks about first-hand in “McKay and Mrs Miller”. So why can’t we have Keller support him?)

Rodney asks Tyson if declassifying Pluto as a planet and making the kiddies cry made him feel like a big man. (Yes, I suppose Rodney doesn’t have to stoop to their level, but that’s kind of the world he’s in, there, isn’t it? I can’t blame him for falling back on his razor wit and scathing words; it’s his defense-mechanism, one that seems entirely necessary in his field, from the looks of it. Being meek wouldn’t get him very far, methinks.) Nye, using his talking-to-the-kids voice, explains to Keller that Tyson has created a cool new classification, the “Plutoids”. Nye reminds Rodney what century they’re in and Tyson asks when Rodney last published a paper, both teasing him that it was probably in the 80s, throwing out pop-culture references. Keller can’t help but smile and laugh a little at that. (Yes, that’s right, these men are tearing your boyfriend a new one, and you laugh with them. How about oh, I don’t know, sticking up for Rodney? How’s about saying something like, “Actually, I wish I could tell you the amazing stuff Rodney’s been working on, but it’s highly classified and I’d have to kill you afterwards. I didn’t really want to slum it here tonight, ’cause frankly, I can’t imagine what your friend’s done that could possibly be more amazing than anything I’ve ever seen, working with Rodney.” And then taking Rodney by the arm, making it clear how into him you are? No, let’s just stand there rather than defending and supporting him; let’s believe these guys, who are also his rivals, rather than give Rodney the benefit of the doubt ….) Rodney says they should probably go find their seats; Keller gives the men a friendly, if somewhat embarrassed, goodbye and follows a pace behind. (She can’t even hurry up to walk beside him and offer him a comforting arm when he’s clearly so distressed?) Tyson and Nye hake their heads in disbelief that they’re dating, Nye calling dibs on Keller. (I’m surprised that Nye and Tyson were willing to play themselves as such jerks! I guess they must each have a good sense of humour about themselves ….)

We see McKeller sitting in a lecture hall. Rodney suggests this was a bad idea; he’s just remembered that he doesn’t like these people. Laughing, she asks if it’s that he doesn’t like them or that they don’t like him? (Oh, nice. *Scowl*) He concedes that he used to be abrasive. “Used to be?” she scoffs, looking away with a derisively amused expression. (My jaw is on the floor. Seriously, could she act like she likes him any less?) He hedges that it’s hard to explain; his is a very competitive field. “Yeah, I went to med school for six years; I wouldn’t know anything about that ….” she replies offhandedly, with veiled sarcasm. (Well, maybe if you would stop needling him, he wouldn’t feel the need to defend himself. Way to make a torturous evening worse for him!) She tells him (very patronisingly — she’s now slipped back into Mommy-mode) that not everything is a competition, that they know how smart he is and he doesn’t have to prove it. He’s not so sure. (Methinks, as far as the people on that room goes, he’s right; she seems to be under the delusion that geniuses think and behave like non-geniuses. If they did, they wouldn’t be geniuses, now would they? In fact, I thought she was supposed to be something of a genius and that’s why she went to college when she was sixteen? Isn’t she, by her own admission, supposed to be socially-stunted, having never fit in? Isn’t that supposed to be a big part of where their common ground is? Otherwise, the only thing we really know about her is that she loves beer, which would mean she has more in common with Sheppard. *Snicker* And if she knows what such competition is like, shouldn’t this atmosphere be par for the course for her, and not make her feel like Rodney is behaving exceptionally badly? They’re in a room of people just like him, pretty much, aren’t they? It’s like going into a pack of wolves and telling the wolf you came with that he should be more sheep-like!) She goes on to remark that he doesn’t need to keep reminding them, saying that “it’s called ‘being humble’.” (The look on his face breaks my heart. She apparently knows nothing about psychology, or she would realise that it’s likely because he has never been properly appreciated, starting with his parents, that he feels the need to “remind” people of his brilliance in the first place. She even saw how his peers treated him, heard how they accused him of only claiming to be smart whereas other people are, yet she’s somehow convinced that they already know of and appreciate his brilliance? Also, accusing people of stealing your ideas isn’t quite the same as claiming that you’re brilliant; there’s a subtle difference. The other guys were being asses to him first, insinuating that the only way Rodney could have a woman on his arm was if she were his sister; how does Keller go from Rodney being spoken to like that — which she should consider an insult to her taste — to perceiving Rodney as being the arrogant, abrasive one? Especially since he wasn’t trying to be arrogant with her; he was admitting his discomfort, his unease, very civilly and vulnerably, and she took him to task for it!)

Keller points out that this is their first date together and they’re doing something she’s not interested in, saying that he needs to bend a little too. (Why are you even there with him, then, lady? Seeing as you seem so displeased with every little thing he says or does, and see fit to correct his every word and action, I mean? Didn’t he just suggest that coming there was a bad idea? He just gave you an out, if you really hate being there so much! You didn’t have to come, but you did, and now you’re trying to make him feel bad for bringing you? Isn’t it bad form to do someone a favour and then make them feel bad for asking in the first place while you carry the favour out? Why not suggest someplace you would have liked to have gone with him to instead in the first place? Why not leave with him now, instead of staying and telling him what an awful person he’s being?) “Humble, eh? Well, I guess I can try anything once,” Rodney replies ruefully. Keller grants him an equally rueful smile and takes his hand. (Fiiinally, a supportive action!)

The presentation starts. We hear Malcolm Tunney talk over a slideshow about global warming; Rodney looks pained, Keller gives him a smile that shows she thinks it’s pretty bad too. (Finally, some commiseration from her! Se I can give credit where it’s due ….) Rodney remarks to Keller, “If he’s so concerned about global warming, why’d he fly us out here on a private jet?” Grinning, she shushes him. (Ugh, she was so close that time — she ruined the grinning gesture by shushing him. Woman, you are not his mommy. And I find nothing wrong with his behavior; he makes a very good point. So it’s not like he’s acting like a child and deserves to be talked down to.)

Tunney tells the crowd that he’s not an environmental scientist, nor does he pretend to be one — for instance, he showers regularly. The crowd laughs appreciatively. (Which should show Keller right there that mean-spirited humour is the name of the game in Rodney’s world. I’m just as bad, though; I laughed too, even while I felt guilty for it.) “No offence, Larry!” Tunney adds, and we see a professor with a long beard. (I’m surprised they hadn’t dressed him in a grungy t-shirt — he looks clean!) Tunney makes a pretty speech about being a concerned citizen, saying that the Earth has carried us, so he figures it’s time we carried her. To illustrate his words, he holds up his hand before the screen, and an image of the Earth rests in his palm. “The ratio would be accurate if his body were the size of his ego,” Rodney quips to his date; Jennifer laughs, admitting that it’s “a little much.” (Oh, thank Gaia — was half afraid she would tell him he was one to talk. This is much more like it, Jennifer enjoying his wit and agreeing instead of trying to smother it! Would that she had behaved thusly earlier ….) Tunney points out that the world’s governments won’t easily agree on a course of action, and asks what, then, any one person — specifically himself, with his special skill set — can do. There’s a huge image of himself behind him. “They think you’re the arrogant one?” Jennifer asks. (I’m glad she finally seems to be figuring it out. So was all her bitchiness to him before, and her lack of defence towards him, just a set-up for that line? ‘Cause I gotta say, the line would have worked just as well if she had felt that way all along, and was saying it in simple commiseration now, rather than in realisation.)

Tunney reveals how it occurred to him to combine several of his projects in the hopes of solving the problem. With major funding from Kramer Innovations (touching on what Rodney revealed about Tunney on the plane, as well as the conversation we saw Tunney have with that other fellow in the beginning — that’s nicely-done, at least), Tunney has, he claims, come up with a safe way to cool the planet. Keller starts to say something derisive about Tunney (and I will applaud her for the attempt, though I find it funny that she’s indulging in pretty much the same behavior she was chastising Rodney over — and with far less reason) when she notes Rodney lean forward with keen interest in what Tunney has to say. She mirrors him. (Good, she’s doing something in the hopes of earning his approval, for a change.) Tunney says the science is complex, so he’s made briefs for them to look over after the presentation: he’s just going to give them the Cliff’s Notes now. (Nice call-back to “Adrift”!) He talks about a heatsink, which draws heat from the environment. “‘Where does the heat go?” Rodney and Keller ask simultaneously. “Well, I have to give Gero props for trying to show their minds being in sync, but it would be a more effective moment if Keller weren’t belittling Rodney’s mind the rest of the time, ‘ey? Also, having Rodney and John have simultaneous thoughts when they’re not in the same place, like in “First Contact” and “The Lost Tribe”, is a sooooo much better way to illustrate a notion like that; here, Rodney and Keller are both asking a question that anyone might ask. Just one more proof that Rodney and John are a better match. *Grin*)

Malcolm then introduces the “Tunney Space-Time Matter Bridge. “What, what?” Rodney asks, not believing his eyes as he looks at the diagram of how it works. Tunney tells the crowd that it isn’t theory; he has a working device. “That’s my bridge! The one my sister and I came up with!” Rodney says, despairing. Keller shushes him gently, apologising to the man next to them for disturbing him. (Well, at least she’s gentle about it.) Tunney talks a little more about successful testing. Rodney wails that it was his idea; Keller tells him that now is not the time, holding his arm securely. (So when is the time to reveal someone as a fraud who stole your work? The only proof Rodney would need would be to do the math right in front of them, without the brief — obviously Tunney’s got it there, so the state secret is already out of the bag! Why isn’t Keller outraged that the work was very possibly stolen? She should know that Rodney is telling the truth, or at least give him the benefit of the doubt, considering that he included his sister in his claim! Well, I am glad to see that Rodney included Jeannie, at least.)

Tunney talks about how they’re going to demonstrate it by taking the heat from the facility. Rodney grows alarmed when he realises that the man means to test it on them, saying that it’s a very dangerous and bad idea. “Rodney, please,” Keller tells him in hushed tones, exasperated. Tunney says he’s going to lower the temperature ten degrees. Rodney can’t just sit by and let this happen; he gets to his feet, ignoring Keller’s protests. (Wait, let me get this straight, Rodney, the smartest guy she knows and whose genius she has seen with her own eyes, tells her they’re in danger, and she just wants him to keep quiet? Excuse me?? Do the writers want me to think she’s a complete moron with no faith at all in the guy she supposedly loves? Yes, I know, it’s vital to the story that we know Rodney is not taken seriously, but I still think the story would have worked even if she had been supportive, the two of them together against the rest of the room. If the writers want me to like her and want them together, they should work towards that end, not against it. I generally try to refrain from calling characters idiots, but this is just too much for me, I’m sorry ….)

Rodney pleads with Tunney, with no arrogance and a lot of fear in his voice, saying that this is too dangerous; Tunney blows him off, while Keller shifts uncomfortably and tugs at Rodney’s jacket, trying to get him to sit back down. Rodney insists that Tunney can’t do this without their consent; Tunney informs him that it was in the confidentiality agreement they’d signed. (See, Keller? This is why you never sign something without reading it first! So they used Keller here as a plot device to get Rodney to do something he would never have done on his own, and yet I’m supposed to like her and think she’s good for Rodney?? Thank Gaia there’s only four episodes left and a handful of movies at best; with any luck, she won’t be spurring him to any other phenomenally boneheaded, character-defaming actions in that time.)

Rodney starts to say that he’s been doing work similar to this; we see Tyson shake his head while Tunney says, laughingly, that he doesn’t think that’s possible. (And I’m fine with this side of the story, people thinking Rodney’s just trying to puff himself up. I’m even fine with how this scenario was initially brought up, in the conversation with Tyson and Nye. I like the idea of Rodney being vindicated … although he’s not really ever truly vindicated, now that I think on it; there’s no mass apology, all for the sake of a very poor try at romance at the end of the ep. Which is all the more reason why we would have been better served if Keller weren’t on the other side from Rodney in the Man versus Man equation — not if we’re supposed to come out feeling she’s a good girlfriend for him. Can the McKeller-lovers really argue with that? Even if we look at it as building strife in the relationship, that only works if she apologises to him for doubting him later, which she never does. Instead, the insinuation remains that she’s still right and he’s petty.)

Rodney says that he’s working with these kinds of bridges before, and they’re very unpredictable; Tunney asks if he has any papers to back up his claim, Rodney is silent. Tunney asks him is this is just jealousy; Keller, deeply embarrassed for him (instead of standing up for him), tugs Rodney back down as he meekly and haltingly denies it. Tunney gives the cue for the start of the demonstration; a moment later, his assistant nods that it’s done. Tunney suggests that they all go out to the lobby to get some hot cocoa. Keller puts her arm around Rodney (in a very buddy-bubby sort of way — John’s arm around him in “The Shrine” was much more loving) and cuts off Rodney’s attempts to explain himself, taking him by the hand and dragging him out to get hot chocolate. (Again, this dynamic strikes me very much as one of a mother and child rather than would-be lovers. And Keller won’t even listen to him now, with no one else watching or listening??)

Out in the lobby, We see a cut-out of Tunney holding a globe that displays the temperature: 74 degrees. Rodney is flipping through the brief Tunney promised, outraged to find that Tunney did indeed steal his work. Keller (concerned, at least, rather than fully scoffing) asks if he’s sure it’s his. He says he is, asking if she believes him. She pauses a moment (it’s hard to tell if the pause is with pity or because she’s working up the nerve to lie), then, laying a hand on his shoulder, says (in what seems to me like patronising and insincere tones meant to mollify him, but I readily admit that I am very biased at this point) that of course she does. (I think she’s really doubting him because of what Tyson and Nye said, but I could be wrong.) Rodney declares that Tunney couldn’t possibly have come up with this on his own (which I would think the declaration that it’s actually his work would already suggest), and starts to say that they needs to do something. Without finishing the thought, we can almost see the lightbulb go off over his head with an idea, as he tells her to “come on”, an excited and determined look on his face as he heads towards a door. Confused, she nervously follows.

They enter a darkened room with equations on the wall and an image of Tunney as wallpaper on a computer. Keller protests that they shouldn’t be in there; Rodney tells her to watch the door, saying, to her horror, it will take him a few seconds to hack into the computer. Meanwhile, in the lobby, the Tunney cutout says that the temperature has reached the goal of 64 degrees, and everyone applauds. Tunney’s assistant interrupts his self-praising conversation with Tyson, and informs him that they can’t get the device to shut off. Tunney’s face falls as he watches the temperature go down another degree.

Tunney hurries into the control room, waving off a hail from someone else in it and moving people aside to get to the computer. After a hard look, he asks who’s been in there; the assistant says only them. The man he’d talked to towards the start of the ep (Kramer) asks what the problem is; Tunney tells him the bridge won’t shut down and he doesn’t know why. Kramer orders the others to shut the power down; Tunney explains that that won’t help, because the bridge generates its own power once it’s up and running. (I guess it uses the heat it collects somehow? I mean, energy doesn’t come from nowhere — you need an outside force to turn it, like wind or water. I don’t think using he heat to make hot air to turn something would generate enough energy to run it. Thermonuclear energy, then? That sounds rather dangerous to use with a device that was already experimental. Hmmm ….) Kramer tells them to shut down the containment field then, and evacuate the place. Tunney tells him that that won’t work either, saying that it’s to complicated for him to explain, but essentially the field is tied into the basic operation of the device, so that they can’t collapse the field until they collapse the matter bridge. He elaborates hat it’s a safety protocol, and he can’t reprogramme it until the bridge is gone. (Yes, because it makes soooo much sense to have those two systems tied together, fixing it so that if something goes wrong, you can’t escape! Shouldn’t the containment field be there to protect people from the experiment? Shouldn’t the people be outside the field, rather than inside? And how convenient, storytelling-wise: the old let’s say “it’s too complicated to explain” so we don’t actually have to come up with a plausible explanation routine! I think this may be the biggest lantern in this show ever.) Through their ongoing conversation, we learn that until the bridge is collapsed, it will continue to draw heat from the heatsink, which will in turn draw heat from the building until they all freeze to death. And it’s happening fast. Still, Tunney has turned up the building’s heat to buy them time. Kramer points out that Tunney had told him he’d run lots of tests; Tunney insists that someone has sabotaged it. (Kramer, you were uncertain earlier about the safety of the project, and now you accept Tunney’s word so easily?? Shouldn’t your first thought now be that the people who’d warned you were right after all?)

In the lobby, Nye reprimands Rodney for his actions during the lecture. Rodney points out that the work was stolen; Nye says he could have waited with it. Rodney insists that, since he was about to start the thing up, it couldn’t wait. Nye insists that Tunney’s inviting Rodney was an olive branch, saying the man wanted to bury the hatchet. “Yeah, in my back,” Rodney replies. (Seriously! Rodney just said the guy stole his work; he’s supposed to be okay with that when the guy is flaunting it right under his nose?) Just then, the guy from the registration desk approaches and tells Rodney and Keller, rather snottily, that Tunney wants a word with them. Keller looks less than thrilled as Rodney practically crows that “that word is ‘I apologise”!” As he walks away, Nye quips, “That’s two words, genius!” (I feel like that’s a callback, like Rodney’s miscounted words before, but I can’t for the life of me recall where he did if that’s true ….) A few seconds pass, the camera still lingering on Nye. “That’s one odd duck, that guy,” Nye says to himself while reading the brief. (Okay, that was a bit strange. Also, it immediately makes me think of the rubber ducky scene in Hewlett’s A Dog’s Breakfast. *Evil grin*)

Rodney and Keller find themselves in a room with Tunney and Kramer. Rodney complains that the apology Tunney’s about to give him would be better in front of the crowd. Tunney, fuming, say’s he didn’t bring Rodney in to get an apology. Tunney mentions that he’d brought Rodney there as a courtesy, as the scientific community was starting to look at him like Howard Hughes (a wealthy aviator who grew reclusive with his old age). Rodney protests that just because he’s been out of touch doesn’t mean he’s been keeping urine in jars. (If we’re supposed to believe that Tunney is being truthful about his noble intentions, then maybe they shouldn’t have included the photo of Tunney with the Dalai Lama on the plane, or have had everyone speak so derisively to Rodney like he was brought there to be ridiculed instead of made peace with, or have painted Tunney with such a massive ego. And if Tunney is lying, then Keller owes Rodney an apology! Well, maybe Tunney’s lying to himself about his own intentions. But what are we the audience supposed to think? Are we supposed to believe Rodney’s paranoid or not?) Kramer cuts off the argument, asking what McKeller has done. Keller looks at Rodney, baffled by what’s being asked. Tunney tells them that they can’t turn the device off. Rodney angrily points out that he’d practically begged them not to turn it on; Kramer tells him to admit what they did and tell how to undo it, and he’ll “consider not pressing charges.” Keller insists that they didn’t do anything.

Tunney and Kramer show them security footage of their time in the office, with Rodney hacking into the computer; we see a few more seconds of footage, with Rodney saying that he’ll destroy Tunney for humiliating him like that. In the present, Keller gives Rodney a look that says Thanks a lot! I knew that was a bad idea … (I don’t blame her this time, even if I can understand why Rodney did what he did and can’t entirely blame him, either.) Rodney looks ashamed and contrite. The Rodney of the footage insists, while he searches, that there must be something he can use to discredit Tunney, but Keller warns him that someone is coming, and he leaves a moment later. (I should think that would point to Rodney not being the saboteur — he was clearly looking for something and couldn’t possibly have sabotages the project in those few seconds after he said so!)

Rodney admits, hesitantly, that he could see how that footage could be incriminating out of context. Kramer asks what they were doing in there. Rodney explains that he was looking for a paper he’d published two years ago on matter bridges. Tunney protests that Rodney hasn’t published “in a very long time”. Rodney says Tunney probably didn’t know the work was his; Tunney disbelievingly asks if Rodney’s using a pen-name. Rodney breaks it down for Tunney (and us), postulating what happened. Tunney either was shown something he wasn’t supposed to see by a friend in the government, or else was sent something by mistake. (Now, why wouldn’t a paper that was classified not have Rodney’s name on it of no one was going to see it anyway? I should think they’d be faaar more worried about the work being seen by eyes that shouldn’t than the name of who wrote it!) The paper told of the bridge and how the project was shut down due to problems with exotic particles. Tunney realised that if the bridge were used to transfer only heat, they wouldn’t have the problem with the exotic particles, so he made some slight alterations to make the work his own and got to making the bridge, ignoring the warnings of the original author about the instability of such a thing. Kramer insists that Tunney has been working on this project for years. Ignoring him, Rodney tells Tunney, in softer, hurt tones, that the paper had been his. (Hmm. Maybe they actually were friends, at least at one time! In fact, there is more chemistry here, between McKay and Tunney, than there is between McKay and Keller the entire ep! How sad is that??) Tunney, looking possibly ashamed, tells Kramer that Rodney and Keller may be able to help. (And why, precisely, would he assume Keller could?)

In the control room, Rodney looks at the computers, saying “This is bad.” Kramer asks if he means the sabotage; Rodney scoffs at the idea. Kramer protests that Tunney told him it was; Tunney admits he might have been hasty. Rodney explains to Kramer that matter bridges are “the very definition of unstable.” Frowning, Keller rather irritatedly and sarcastically tells Rodney that she thinks he may have said that before. (Well, obviously Kramer didn’t get that the first time, or he wouldn’t be harping on the sabotage! I’d rather Rodney assumed people didn’t know or understand than they didn’t — better to be safe than sorry. But go ahead, continue chastising the man who is your only chance for survival for trying to makes sure everyone understands him. Never mind that there wasn’t an ounce of self-importance when he said it. I just want to tell her to shut the hell up and sit in a corner out of the way at this point, because she’s not helping.)

Rodney asks Tunney if he turned up the heat; Tunney snaps in an I’m not an idiot tone that he did. Rodney then points to a monitor, asking if Tunney’s seen it; Tunney starts to snap a yes, and stops cold as he actually looks. Keller asks what’s wrong; Rodney explains that the heatsink isn’t drawing the heat consistently. Keller asks why that’s bad; Tunney says he doesn’t know that he’d call it bad, even though he admits it’s not good (and he sounds honest, not like he’s trying to downplay it). “You’re kidding me, right?” Keller asks, cutting him off. Tunney does a double-take, startled by her attitude. (Okay, I can’t blame her for thinking he’s a little ridiculous, but I also can’t blame him for how his scientific brain works, compartmentalising the danger while he stays true to the science, which is not “good” or “bad”, it just is. And it amuses and pleases me that he seems to have found her to be rude. *Snicker*) Rodney explains, “A regular bridge should draw the same amount of energy from the heatsink at all times. This one is fluctuating greatly.” (Which sounds pretty much the same as what he’d said already, but she’s not chastising himthis time for repeating himself. *Snicker*) An idea occurs to Rodney then: they can wait for it to peak, overload, and crash. (Um, so basically sit around and do nothing, like you’d be doing even if you didn’t think of anything to do? So basically Rodney didn’t come up with an idea so much as a ray of hope that the problem would fix itself?) Tunney thinks it’s a good idea; Rodney says of course the man does, since Rodney was the one who thought of it. (*Snicker* Nice little jab at the man’s thieving ways, the source of their current dilemma. But I’m sure Keller thinks it’s petty, ‘ey?)

Nye stands in the lobby, shivering and complaining of the cold. We see a man in a wheelchair before him; we can’t see the guy’s face, but his computer-synthesised voice marks him as Stephen Hawking (they probably couldn’t get the real him), who says that they all get it, so Tunney can stop the demonstration, as he’s “starting to freeze to [his] chair.” There’s a flash of a blue ray of light before Nye, and we see that the man that its hit is half-frozen. (Run! It’s Dr Horrible’s Freeze Ray™! *Snicker*)

When Rodney and Tunney appear on the scene, we learn that this is the detrimental side to the fact that the bridge is drawing heat from the heatsink irregularly; when it makes a sudden demand, the sink will suddenly take a chunk of heat out of the air. (Instead of just taking more from the entire place at once, or from the area closest to the sink itself? Huh? How does the heatsink take it from a random spot so far away like that? That’d be like a drain in a bathtub suddenly somehow taking water from a point further away in the tub rather than just draining the water faster or something, wouldn’t it? I dunno, maybe I’m wrong ….) Tunney says the beam would freeze anything in its path, moaning that he didn’t see that one coming. (Speaking of paths, why did it work like a ray? Shouldn’t it have been, by their own description, a sudden, localised absence of heat, not a moving one? See, this is why fantasy, for me, is usually better than science fiction — science fiction really should, I feel, still obey the laws of science, unless the writer can come up with a plausible explanation for breaking them.) McKay calls it “freeze-lightning”; Tunney approves. (So do I; it’s catchy! But I bet John would say Rodney doesn’t get to name anything anymore. *Snicker*) Rodney stutters that Tunney can’t have it; it’s his and it’s copywritten. (*Snicker* Cute. And perhaps a bit childish of Rodney, yes, but after what Tunney did, I cannot blame him one bit. I do think that would fall under trademark rather than copyright law, though. And it’s “copyrighted”, nit “copywritten”.)

Keller approaches, telling them that it seems the injured man has been flash-frozen; he’s in bad shape, and she’s never seen the like before. (He’s still alive?? How can he been, when half of his body isn’t functioning, including, it looks like, his heart??) Tunney is depressed by this news; Rodney offers sympathy, saying it wasn’t entirely the man’s fault. Tunney ruins the moment by saying he really hopes the guy signed the waiver. (Relax, Tunney; how would he have gotten in without it?) Rodney and Keller exchange disbelieving looks, before Keller shoves the thought aside (instead of berating Tunney for his callousness like she would do to Rodney if he made such a remark) and asks if Tunney thinks this has happened before. Tunney replies that if it had, no one’s been around to see it; Rodney realises that this could be happening all over the place. With a note of alarm, Keller asks if this is going to keep happening; Tunney, with scientific calm, muses that it will, with greater frequency. Rodney nervously points out that this is going to hamper their efforts to shut the bridge down. “And by ‘hamper’, you mean get us all killed,” Keller replies; Rodney unhappily confirms it.

In the control room, Rodney says they should call in the military, but Kramer wants to avoid doing that for the moment. (Aaaah, so this comes back to the conversation he had with Tunney in the beginning, where Tunney insisted that Kramer’s company’s reputation would remain unvarnished.) Keller point out that Kramer is lucky the frozen guy isn’t dead. (Is this why he isn’t? So Tunney and Kramer don’t get into as much trouble when this is all over? In that case, why not just freeze the guy’s arm? Luck doesn’t even begin to cover this miracle!) Kramer is confident that Tunney and Rodney can get the device to start working properly again; Rodney protests that it’s too late for that. Tunney confirms that things have gone too far, saying they need to make the call. (Good for Tunney, for being willing to do the responsible thing without a fuss; of course, he would have been a better person if he’d been more cautious to begin with.) Kramer points out that the government will shut them down. Rodney tells him that’s the idea.

Tunney says that he doesn’t understand why Kramer is balking, when he had been the one who had wanted to evacuate the building in the first place. (Thank you for pointing that out, ’cause I was thinking the same thing!) Kramer explains that he wanted to do that to keep the project from being branded as too dangerous to move forward. (Pal, I got news for ya: even if you’d evacuated the building, it probably still would have been branded too dangerous, by the very fact that you saw a need to evacuate. Even now, when this is over, the government will find out what the danger was and stop it. Not to mention they’re going to be seriously pissed when Rodney reports that the science was stolen from their own files! So while I appreciate that Tunney brought up the question, Kramer’s logic and motive make no sense.) Keller points out that the cat’s out of the bag. (Well, at least I agree with her there.) Rodney asks if Kramer’s concerned about the money; Kramer says no, that he believes in the importance of the project, which is bigger than him or the scientists, and feels that they will be allowed to continue their research of they can fix this without military involvement. (Ah, so it’s not so much that he doesn’t want the government to know so much as that he wants to prove to them that they can handle the situation, making it look like it wasn’t so bad.) Rodney tells him that they can’t control it and shouldn’t continue with it. Kramer insists that they’ll figure it out, that he has faith in them, and walks away. (Hmm. He reminded me of Sheppard, with his undying optimism, just then. *Snicker*) Rodney is flabbergasted.

Rodney asks Tunney for his cell phone; Tunney replied distractedly that it won’t work while the shield is up. (That’s a tight little bit of writing there; of course Rodney doesn’t have a cell, since he lives in Atlantis, and this gives Tunney a reason to tell us why it wouldn’t work.) Keller suggests they try the land-line in Tunney’s office. When they get there, though, they discover it doesn’t work; Rodney, in typical form, demands to see for himself and declares the state of things as if Tunney hadn’t already said it. (Kinda felt like we were watching the Three Stooges or Groucho Marx for just a second…) Keller deduces that “Kramer must have killed the phones.” Rodney asks Tunney if he has access to the communications room; Tunney replies that it’s a Kramer facility and he just works there. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” Tunney muses. (*Blink* Was that intended to be slashy? I guess I just can’t take the slash-goggles off. *Grin*) Rodney suggests that they go back to the control room; as they leave, Keller tells them to wait, saying, “Isn’t there like a room full of geniuses out there?” (*Snicker* Honestly, it’s something of a miracle that the two of them even thought to work together, isn’t it?) “That’s debatable,” Rodney and Tunney say in tandem. Keller points out that people could die. Rodney says, rather arrogantly, that the others will just slow him down. She snaps at him, reminding him about the “humble thing” they were talking about earlier. Rodney bows his head, chastised. (Oh, Gero! Did just use a secondary character to make the lead look like an ill-behaved child, and basically ignore all his character development in the series thus far, all the humility he has been learning, especially after Doranda, all for the sake of a cheap laugh at his expense and to make Keller into a “strong woman”? Her being a “supporting” character means that she should be supporting his character development, not his regression, and certainly not that he, the lead, should be used to support her development, particularly not at the sacrifice of his own character! *Snarl*)

Tunney tells the crowd in the lobby about the freeze lighting — claiming the name as his own, of course. Rodney only growls to himself for a moment over it while Tunney speaks, then tells the crowd that they need to collapse the matter bridge and stop it from drawing energy from the heatsink before they freeze to death. A lady scientist in the crowd asks why they don’t just turn the shield off and escape; Tunney explains why. Rodney elaborates that, at this point, doing so would create a massive cold-front that could lead to tornadoes and worse. (We know most of this stuff; couldn’t we have skipped this scene and jumped to Tunney saying something like, “Okay, you all know what’s at stake now, so let’s get to work?” Couldn’t Rodney’s line about the storm have been included where they were talking about it earlier instead?) Tunney adds that, even if they get the field down, if don’t stop the heatsink, it will start taking heat from the entire world. (Oooh, I get it, we’re watching an episode of some kiddie adventure show, where reality doesn’t matter and everything is super-melodramatic! I mean, I don’t think the heatsink can work quiiiite so quickly on the whole planet that removing the field wouldn’t at least take away the immediate danger and allow they time to work in somewhat safer conditions ….) Nye asks why they don’t just destroy it; Rodney says, as if it’s obvious, that doing so could tear a hole in our space-time. (How is bashing it apart to turn it off any different than stopping it by any other means? Stopping it is stopping it, isn’t it? How is pulling a cable that shuts it off different than flipping an off-switch? Whoa, I think we’ve found an episode with even more faulty logic than “Ghost in the Machine”!) There’s a flash of freeze-lightning. A little freaked, Keller tries to give them a little pep talk. (She’s done this rah-rah sort of talk before, hasn’t she? *Snicker* I guess McKeller really is supposed to be an embodiment of the stereotype of “the geek dating the cheerleader”?) The scientists all exchange looks. (And now she’s supposed to be the impetus that gets everyone to work together and believe in themselves? Super-Keller strikes again! Or maybe not quite yet ….)

We see the scientists hard at work, scribbling away — and arguing up a storm. We hear Nye say Rodney is wrong; Rodney tells him to watch who he’s correcting, pointing out that his own PhD, unlike the Science Guy’s, is not “honourary”. Nye protests that he’s an engineer and can do math, telling Rodney to just listen to him; Rodney says he has, and it’s led him to believe that Nye is a moron. (*Snicker* They’re reminding me of Rodney and Zelenka!) Tunney calmly and somewhat arrogantly says they’re both wrong, nodding when McKay asks if Tunney’s supposedly right; Nye points out that Tunney’s the one who got them into this in the first place. Rodney says he has a workable theory; Tunney points out that it’s just a theory. Rodney heatedly reminds them that he’s been working on this stuff already, adding that he’s years beyond what they could only dream of.

Keller yells and bangs her hand against her palm to get their attention, then proceeds to lecture them on their childish behavior. (See above about how Keller should not be in this scenario, and Rodney should not be put into a position to be chastised by her like he’s a child. It’s meant to be funny, and I’m not finding it so. John would have been more fitting here; at least he’s Rodney’s commanding officer, so it’s his place, character-wise, to keep Rodney in line as a team-mate. But Rodney and Keller are supposed to be either coworkers of equal rank — with Rodney arguably out-ranking her, as he would be in charge of Atlantis before she ever would be — or boyfriend and girlfriend; this scenario places them on very uneven footing, romantically-speaking. She is, apparently, to be seen as his moral superior at every turn; he may make a snide remark at her now and again, but otherwise, he seems to always be subservient to her. One might even suspect him of having an Oedipal complex, dating someone who acts like a mother like that! Sad, when he’d always had to work for his moral compass on his own before, as a part of his character growth; now the morals are being force-fed to him! He’s quickly becoming pussy-whipped with her — at least with John, he kept his spark of defiance even at the times when he caved to John’s command. And at least his caving to John’s command had the excuse of John’s being his commander. Keller’s got a stranglehold on his expressing his intellectual gift; he’s being squashed rather than being allowed to shine. How is that a good thing? John, on the other hand, puts his faith in Rodney, steps aside and encourages Rodney to do his thing, giving Rodney the space to do it. Rodney had worked with his own scientists before, and saved the city time and time again without Keller’s supervision — or even much of John’s, as John usually goes off to fight while Rodney works and just checks in now and then. But it seems that Keller can’t trust that Rodney would know what he’s doing, Instead, she places him into a situation where his very nature causes him to struggle — working with those who perceive themselves as his equals and insist on arguing with him — and then gets made when he’s having trouble getting the work done. He told her that the others would slow him down, and they obviously are — just because it’s an arrogant thought doesn’t mean it’s not true. Apparently she’s never heard the phrase “Too many cooks spoil the broth.”) Nye agrees with her, getting into “kiddie-show morality mode” and she tells him “Not now, Nye.” (Oh, well that’s gratitude for you.) She continues her lecture, the scientists heads bowed in shame. Rodney raises his hand, hesitantly; she calls on him like a teacher (a nod to her having called them a bunch of sixth-graders). He meekly says he might have an idea that needs some ironing out; she directs the crowd to look at his board. (This isn’t really what I had in mind when I said she should show Rodney some support ….)

While the scientists work, Keller notices and steps closer to Kramer. He says they’ll figure something out. Keller says halfheartedly that she’s sure they will, adding derisively that she just hopes it’s before someone dies. (I thought she was going over to offer comfort for a minute, but I can’t blame her for being disgusted with his stubborn refusal to get outside help despite his being advised so by the two guys in the building who would best know their situation.) He frowns at her; she rolls her eyes. She then tells him about her uncle George, who felt the phrase “save the planet’ was backwards because the planet will be here no matter what, even if it’s unlivable. He asks (as I ask) if she’s going to argue semantics; she explains that his work is about saving lives, not the planet, and it’s no less noble for him to save the hundred people here than his efforts to save billions. (Ah, okay, I’m mollified. Although, arguably, that’s how war works, right? Sacrifice a few to save many? I do think his logic is flawed, that he doesn’t grasp how things are working, and I wouldn’t sacrifice those people myself if I were in his place, but I can understand why he would do it. She’s basically asking him to risk billions of lives that could be saved down the road rather than just a hundred here. Of course, if the hundreds here do die, the billions down the road won’t be saved anyone, so that’s why I don’t find it worth the sacrifice. That and they weren’t adequately informed of the danger going in, unlike a soldier who signs up knowing he might die. I can appreciate her being used here to raise an interesting moral dilemma.) She begs him to let her make the call that could get the geniuses the help they need. (So she can have something to do to help save the day too, ’cause wrangling scientists isn’t enough.) He nods. They go to the communications room — only to discover that a bolt of freeze-lightening has hit the machines in there. Keller asks if he can fix it; Kramer says no, they’re cut off.

Next we see them, Keller and Kramer are in the control room with Rodney and Tunney. Rodney is less than pleased at this new development, but while he fumes, he gentlemanly gives Keller his jacket. (Okay, I can appreciate her being there to have that opportunity for him to do that; we can assume he thought of it on his own, rather than Keller asking him to.) A shivering Tunney tells Rodney to come see something; Rodney looks at a monitor and announces, amazed, that the cold is causing the field-emitters to weaken, saying that they’re about to give out. Keller asks isn’t that good; Rodney brings up the storm problem again, saying they couldn’t get the military in through it, much less get everyone to safety. (Could the vortex that would be formed really be that bad? Storms are caused by barometric pressure changes more than actual temperature differentiations; they typically happen in nature when a miles-long cold-front collides with a miles-long, humid warm-front. The desert is dry; there’s very little humidity to be a factor, either outside or inside of the building. For the difference in pressure between the inside and the outside to be big enough to make a dangerous atmospheric condition — more than, say, a dust-devil, which isn’t all that scary or dangerous, in my experience — wouldn’t the pressure in the building have to be so low that the people inside it couldn’t breathe? I don’t know, I could very well be wrong, but the jeopardy just doesn’t seem believable to me. Do you see any vortexes forming when you open a 30-degree ice-cream cart freezer outside in 110-degree weather? No, just a lot of fog. Is this really soooo different, aside from the volume of cold air versus hot?) Kramer says they can just wait the storm out; Tunney explains that if they can’t shut the device down, the heatsink will just keep feeding cold air into the storm, endlessly. Keller says that’s not good (oh, she’s Captain Obvious now, since John’s not here); Tunney, looking at her like she’s a nutter, agrees that he’d rather that not happen. (I’m liking him much more than Keller. *Evil grin*) Rodney, though, sees an upside; since the field is dying, they might be able to use a cell phone now. Tunney thinks Rodney’s right; he points out where the two weakest emitters are, saying that they’re on the other side of the building, so he’d better get going. Keller stays him, pointing out that she can make the call and he’d be of more help there. (Heh, I’m admittedly petty; she’s right, but I can’t but imagine, for a moment, that she’s all, “Oh noes, don’t take the only thing I can do to help!” *Snicker*) Tunney reluctantly hands her the phone and map. (You’d think he’d be thrilled he gets to stay and help. Well, maybe he just doesn’t wan to be stuck with Rodney.) She tells them she’ll radio them when she’s done. Looking mightily worried for her (I guess because of the freeze-lightning), Rodney wishes her a sincere “good luck”, which she worriedly returns before hurrying off. Tunney remarks that she seems capable. (Yes, because she’s Super-Keller! Argh, sorry, she may bring out the supposed best in Rodney but she’s apparently bringing out the worst in me. Attempting to abort the snarkasm …. Nope, sorry, attempt failed. Guess you’re stuck with it.) A very smitten-looking Rodney agrees. “It’s your sister, right? Is she single?” Tunney asks, turning away; Rodney rolls his eyes and gets pissy-looking as he asks, “Where were we?”

Nye tells Rodney that Rodney’s idea of overloading the bridge to the point of collapse was on the right track, but the scientists all agree that this means they need to dial up the heatsink and make it even colder. Tunney adds that that could increase the frequency of the freeze-lightning — “Which could kill us,” Rodney dejectedly finishes. Kramer then informs them that the furnace just died, having been taxed too much, seeing the facility, being in the desert, wasn’t meant to be heated that way. The scientists go over their options again, Rodney insisting that dialing u the heat-sink is their only option, even if it is dangerous. Nye and Tunney are at a loss, knowing he’s right. Rodney orders the room cleared so he can work, as everyone is just in his way. (Which is what he told Keller in he first place. And he came up with this solution on his own; looks like he was indeed right all along.)

Keller wanders through the corridors, past a door, and finally finds a signal. She tries to call the SGA, reaching Walter (yay!); Walter can’t understand her trough the static, and hangs up on her. “Son of a Bitch!” she says. (*Snicker*) Back in the control room, Nye asks if they should warn everyone what they’re about to do; Tunney and Rodney figure it would just cause a panic, since there’s nowhere safe for people to go and they don’t know where the freeze-lightning could hit next. Nye remarks that “freeze-lightning” is a bad name. McKay tells him it was Tunney’s idea, which causes Tunney to sputter. (*Snicker* Bad Rodney! Although, Tunney did claim it was his in the first place, so it serves him right.) Rodney dials up the heatsink, and the lightning strikes in first the lobby, then the control room. Tunney tells him to shut it off, but Rodney says he can’t — it hasn’t collapsed the bridge yet. Keller, meanwhile, is trying to get that signal again when a blast of freeze-lighting goes through the door, breaking a water main and soaking her. (Well don’t just stand there; moved to the other side!) Back in the control room, Tunney insists that it’s not working; Rodney says they “just need a little more time.” A blast of freeze-lightning misses them by inches.

Tunney points out that people are getting separated and isolated by the freeze-lightning, which is freezing up whole areas of the facility. (What, do you have a life-signs detector in there? How do you know what’s going on outside the room?) Rodney insists that it doesn’t matter; they’re melt eventually, they need to keep going. Nye complains that Rodney will kill them all. (And you’re alternative plan is …?) Rodney starts to argue, but cuts himself short when he sees the readings start to drop; he looks around, and finds Tunney at another station, announcing that he’s turned it down, insisting that it was too dangerous and would kill them all. (Um, aren’t you going to die anyway if you don’t get the thing turned off ASAP?? See, Rodney is better off alone; he’s apparently the only one with any sense.) Tunney says they will just have to come up with something else; “Yeah, something fast, ’cause the containment field’s about to fail!” Rodney points out. (Why is that a problem? Or, right, instant vortex when the air moves under the doors, I guess.)

Keller realises that the doors at both ends of the corridor she’s in are both sealed shut because of the ice of the freeze-lightning. (Never mind that they easily opened another door that was similarly afflicted, the one that led to the communications room, the door breaking very easily then because of the flash-freeze. This strikes me as a huuuuuge continuity error.) She radios Rodney, telling him how her phone got wet and won’t work and now she’s losing body-heat. Tunney says he’ll send security out there to help her. Rodney tells her help is coming, to sit tight and stay warm. She apologises for not getting the call through; he tells her, sweetly, that she did her best. (Awww. I’m torn between finding him sweet for saying it and thinking the dialogue is kinda hokey, like from a bad romance novel.) He gets called away, and tells her someone is on the way, clearly reluctant to “leave” her. Nye reports that the containment fields is about to fail. When it does, the winds pick up outside, and Tunney frets that they’ll be getting tornadoes soon. (How did that work, precisely, when most of the cold air is indoors, slowly leaking out under doors or through window seams at worst? Is it supposed to be because the stone of the building is cold? Or maybe the field wasn’t quite flush against the building, and some of the outside air was made very cold? I still find it unbelievable that there’s enough quantity of cold, low-pressure air in that building to cause a big, sudden, cataclysmic vortex — especially when the doors to the building are still closed. Doesn’t the cold air and hot air have to actually meet for something to happen?) “Great — even less time before we die,” he tells the man pointedly.

Tornadoes are forming outside. In the control room, Rodney and Tunney go over how the device works, how it gains power by siphoning it off what its sending through the bridge, so they can’t pull the plug on it. Rodney asks if it’s true that “it has a finite amount of power diversion capability”; Tunney confirms that it does. (Are we suggesting it can only siphon power up to a certain percent, or suggesting that, once it’s taken a certain amount of power, it can’t take any more and stops working?) Rodney suggests that maybe instead of trying to overload it, then, maybe they should starve it until it stalls out. (I’m confused; the statement that it has a finite ability to generate power would seem to suggest to me that overloading — pushing it over that ability — it is the best bet. So how did he make that leap in logic? What has his solution have to do with his question? Unless he was saying that there’s no way to ever overload it because it would just cap out at its limit and say running at that percentage?) Tunney says it’s technically possible, but it would require more power than the heatsink could draw. (I’m confused again — I thought the heatsink feeds the bridge? I thought you wanted to make it stop giving the bridge power? If you turned the heatsink up in an attempt to overload it, shouldn’t you be turning it down to starve the bridge? If you can reverse the heatsink so that it takes power from the bridge, why are you even having this conversation?) Rodney suggests opening another bridge; “And it overwhelms the system and it fails ….” Tunney realises, sounding thoughtful and vaguely hopeful. Rodney moves to work on it, and Tunney points out how hard it will be to reconfigure the system to do it. “I never said it would be easy,” Rodney points out. “It’ll be impossible,” Tunney scoffs. “Hey, I’m Doctor Rodney McKay, all right? Difficult takes a few seconds; impossible? A few minutes,” Rodney declares. (*Snicker* And Keller thought he should be more humble! If he weren’t so arrogant and sure of himself, would he still be saving their asses now, or would he be standing around feeling helpless, like the rest of them?)

The tornadoes outside worsen. Keller, standing in water, radios Rodney; he asks if security has helped her yet, and, gasping, she says no. Rodney asks Tunney what’s up; Tunney reveals that the corridors between security and her have been sealed by the freeze-lightning, so it will take some time to get to her. Keller warns that she’s slipping into hypothermic shock. Rodney tells her to hold on and looks at the map; he realises that they’re a straight shot from where she is. (Apparently the area Tunney said he needed to get to wasn’t on the opposite side of the building so much as the opposite corner of the same side.) He asks why security didn’t come that way instead, through their lab, Tunney says they’re cut off from the lab, too. Rodney says he has to go help her; Tunney says they’re a little busy right now. Rodney says she’ll die; Tunney points out that if the storm keeps up like it is, the building will get ripped apart and they’ll all die. Rodney tells him he gave him a plan, but Tunney frets that it’s got holes that he can’t handle, admitting that Rodney is smarter than him. (Well, I guess it’s some vindication. But like Rodney said before, when he thought Tunney was going to apologise in the first place, it would be nicer if it was in front of other people.) “I know,” McKay says, running off. (And after Rodney’s been a joke for almost the whole episode, suddenly he becomes the Marty-Stu geek-boy stand-in. He not only saves the day by giving them the plan to stop the catastrophe, but he also gets to go and be the dashing hero who saves the damsel, at the same time! I should be happy for him, but the whole scenario just seems so clichéd and silly, like we’re watching Dudley Do-Right. I should applaud him for giving up the glory to Tunney and Nye, for finally being able to place his fate in other’s hands and trust someone, I guess, though I’m having a hard time not thinking he’s foolish for not sending Nye to do it instead, since Rodney himself is their best chance of shutting down the bridge. He could have saved her only to lose her if the others failed in their task! The lives of everyone outweigh her singular life, and Nye could have just as easily have saved her anyway.) Tunney has a freak-out over the responsibility; Nye slaps him to snap him out of it.

Rodney hurries down the corridor, stopping along the way to get an axe. (Yes! More hero cliché!) He chops into the door; we see her unconscious on the other side. Tunney thinks he’s got things worked out, asking Nye to check his math. I have been, why do you think I’m standing here?” Nye snaps. (*Snicker*) The tornadoes start to demolish the building. Rodney makes it through the door. Nye tells Tunney to “Do it!”, when suddenly the equipment starts sparking. Rodney determines that Keller isn’t breathing and has no pulse; begging her to not be dead, he starts CPR. (Once again, I’m torn between “Awww, yay!” for Rodney, and wincing at the melodrama.) Nye announces that the plan works; the second bridge drained the power and both bridges collapses. “I did it!” Tunney says, laughing in disbelief. The tornadoes dissipate. (Why? Isn’t the air in the building till still cold? The heater’s broken, after all! It wouldn’t warm up that quick, I wouldn’t think!) Keller coughs her way back into consciousness. (Did she swallow some of that water somehow, despite her head resting on a pipe?) “You saved me,” she says, wonderingly. He tells her how he used an axe, rambling excitedly; she silences him with a kiss. When he pulls back, he says he doesn’t know what he would have done if he’d lost her; she tells him she loves him and has for some time now, echoing his word to her in “The Shrine”. (Could Staite be any less convincing, any less emotional, with that delivery of “I love you”?? And you know I love Hewlett, but much of this scene is way too melodramatic and unnatural, as if he was trying to counterbalance her flat performance. I wish I could cheer, I really wish I could find it in me. *Sigh* I should be squeeing with glee for Rodney, and instead I just wanna cry.) Rodney starts to respond, but again she shuts him up with a kiss. (Okay the look in his eyes, his demeanor, just before and just after that second kiss, is much better, much sweeter and natural-seeming … Hey, she seems awfully recovered for still being half-frozen. I’m thinking he should hurry up and get her outside, though, and himself too, now that he’s all wet? …)

On the plane ride back, Keller says at least Rodney’s friends don’t think he’s a washout anymore. Rodney complains that “Stupid Bill Nye” is telling everyone that Tunney shut the device down; she points out that Tunney did shut it down. Rodney points out that it was his idea and coding, though; exasperated, she asks if it really matters. (Yes. Yes it does. Everyone says he needs to give credit where credit’s due; shouldn’t he be extended the same courtesy? Why is it okay for Tunney to take credit for Rodney’s work? Hel, Rodney would have gotten the credit if he hadn’t gone to save her; the least she could do is be sympathetic! Tunney almost killed them all, and they would have died if it had been left to Tunney alone to save them — he not only couldn’t have done it, but wouldn’t have! He pretty much gave up before Rodney pushed him into it! Instead of Rodney being given the credit he’s long overdue, Tunney’s being treated as a hero when he’s the one who put them in danger in the first place. How is that fair or right? What’s wrong with him sticking up for himself? We wouldn’t have all the great advancements of the world without that kind of proactive thinking — do you think Edison and Tesla were humble? Do you think we would have our modern marvels without fierce competition? Pride in one’s work and a drive for success are the great motivators! Hell, would we have equal rights and votes for women and minorities if people just shrugged their shoulders and let others do what they wanted to them, not caring, content with what they did have, and said “Oh well, just deal with it, nothing bad matters”?) “Yes. Yes it does,” Rodney tells her (yaaaay!), saying that these things matter to him and that it’s something she should know about him. (It would have been a sad thing for him, but I would have been soooo much happier if they would have broken it off here.) She tells (a tad cattily) him to quit working for the SGC and do his work in the private sector, where the whole world can see, then. (That’s not really the point, is it? It’s that the others should give credit where it’s due. If they had praised him for what he’d done back there, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation! Besides, as much as he wants the accolades he deserves, that doesn’t man he doesn’t think his work isn’t important. One point does not negate the other. It’s like she’s talking about two different things at once and mixing them up: the melancholy he’s felt in the past over being thought a recluse, his past achievements unrecognised, and the more immediate hurt he feels now for being unappreciated for a job well-done that he could have been praised for, that his job didn’t require he remain anonymous on, The one chance he had to shine amongst his peers, and it was taken from him. But no, she expects him to be a Superman and not feel hurt when most anyone would. Think of the praise as a paycheck; how would she feel if money were stolen from him or not given when it was due, instead? Would it kill her to be a shoulder to cry on and let him vent?)

Rodney says he’s actually been thinking about it. She doesn’t believe him; he explains that his contract is up soon, and he’s been thinking of moving on. She scoffs, saying that she doesn’t know anyone who loves their job more than he does. He makes a non-committal noise. She asks with a grin if he thinks the military will let them keep experimenting. He doesn’t think so, and calls geo-engineering’s a dumb pursuit, saying that no one person can solve the worlds problems and that we all have to do our part. “Like not take private jets,” she deadpans. He points out that they were going the same way anyway. They smile at each other. Keller says it’s nice, being back there with just him; he doesn’t get it, just says “Right,” and nods. She raises a brow suggestively; it dawns on him what she means. “Riiight!” he says again in understanding. He points out that she was legally dead just a few hours past, asking if she’s sure. (Sweet of him to be that considerate. And frankly, I find it hard to believe that she would be up to anything. She tells him it’s either than or he keep telling her how he and only he saved the day (I don’t recall him ever claiming that); she clearly doesn’t think much of that option. He smiles flirtatiously and comes to sit beside her, saying that he’s going to try the whole humble thing out, as it seems to be a hit with the ladies. They kiss.

Like I said, at least she’s enthusiastic this time. Now it feels like “friends with benefits” instead of “siblings”, like it did in “The Last Man” — it still doesn’t feel like love, though. And it seems to me rather like she’s using the kissing to shut him up again. ‘Cause heaven forbid she should have to listen to his angst. What’s romantic about your girl complaining that you complain and wanting you to shut up so you can make out? Well, okay, maybe that’s a guy’s idea of romance, but if a guy rolled his eyes at his girl’s hurt feelings and outrage, acted all patronising or shrugged it off, and said to stop whining so they can knock boots already, we’d be appalled. Well, I would be, anyway. At least Rodney didn’t seem like a hurt, chastise puppy at the very end, and he did stick up for his feelings.)

I admit, I did feel rather ill during those last few minutes. It did not at all help that, right after, the announcer reminded us that there’s only three eps left before the finale — especially since I know some of what is coming. I can’t deny, however pathetic the fact may be, that I burst into very unhappy tears for a moment. (Thankfully, there was some wonderful Henry angst in the episode of Sanctuary that followed it, which cheered and distracted me for a while!)

Now, I want to address a few accusations/insinuations that others have presented me with. Forgive me, as I’m going to meander quite a bit as I try to work this out — not just to explain it to all of you, but to myself as well. (At any rate you should be used to such meanderings by now anyway, right? *Snicker*)

As much as I’m a McShepper, I could deal with other McKay pairings if they could find an actress who didn’t make it seem like she was just doing a job, like it was a chore or an act, kissing him. I mean, I’m a fan of multiple pairings for other characters in other fandoms — I love Harry/Ginny and Harry/Draco equally, and Ron/Hermione and Ron/Harry (and Harry/Ron/Hermione *cough*), for example. So yeah, to the people who are telling me “Oh, you just don’t like it ’cause you’re a McShepper”, I want to say that’s not the problem! (Well, not all of it, anyway ….) I’m bi-poly — I like girls as much as straight guys do, and I’m not big on monogamy, so I can ship multiple pairings at once.

Still, a case could be made, I admit, for the fact that having Rodney be “with” someone, as in an ongoing and monogamous relationship, would negate even the slightest chance of him being with John. I will concede that, even though they would never would be together in canon anyway, I am not keen on canon actively and pretty thoroughly negating the possibility (even though I might actually have been okay with it if I had been able to find McKeller likable — canon sank Harry/Draco pretty well, after all, and I was fine with that because of liking Harry/Ginny). Which makes this situation all the more unfair — I’m a hard-core Daniel/Vala shipper, and a pretty strong Sam/Jack shipper, yet my ships were never resolved in canon, so why is this one, McKeller, being made so utterly undeniable? With my own ships, at least the people who didn’t like them could pretend they weren’t there fairly easily. We’re not really being given a choice here with McKeller.

And then we have people all “Well, you just are jealous because you want Rodney yourself.” Yeah, I wanted James Marsters/Spike, too, but that didn’t stop me from being a very hard-core “Spuffy shipper”. I like Alexis Denisoff — that didn’t stop me from wanting Wesley and Fred to get together — or even, later, Wes and Illyria, despite my having plenty of reason to hate Illyria for killing Fred!

Besides which, I identify with Rodney. Even if they’d found a girl for him that I thought was a good match, I would still likely identify with him over her. Hey, maybe that’s the problem — I liked Kaylee well enough, but I do not find Keller at all attractive in that way. I wouldn’t sleep with her, and it makes me nauseated to think Rodney would! I feel like I’m being put in places where I wouldn’t want to go. I don’t like being made to detach myself from my connection to the character — and therefore to the series. Okay, I can just hear it now — some of you are saying “Well, then, that just means you want Sheppard!” But no, not really. Not saying I don’t find him attractive at all, but in my own life? Yeah, I wouldn’t go for him. Given a choice between McKay and Sheppard, I would choose McKay. (I guess this means I should ship Rodney and RepliRodney instead?) No, in some weird way, when it comes to McShep, I indentify with both of them. Maybe that’s the key — the better I can manage to slip into the shoes of both characters in the ship, the better I am able to enjoy it. (Although I can think of a few exceptions to that notion as well). While there have been times that I have been able to identify with Keller — quite well, in fact — there are things she’s said and done that turn me off wanting to get into that skin for extended periods of time, no matter how you mean it.

I’m not the only one who strongly feels that McKeller is a bad idea. Finn has a nice list of love McKeller-style which more concisely bullet-points much of what I’ve rambled about here. I don’t agree with quite everything lavvyan has to say, but in her own post, she does make some very good points on why Keller is not Rodney’s “soul mate”. And my friend Becky gave me permission to quote something she said in an email to me that I thought nicely complimented my own sentiments from the my review of “The Lost Tribe” on why we shouldn’t be so thrilled that Rodney got the girl over Ronon:

As for those who want to say “Finally, the geek gets the girl” most people haven’t realized it, but Rodney has had the girl more often than John.  He has had a healthier relationship, too — Katie Brown.  Even though that was also a very badly written relationship, at least they were together for some time.  Imagine, a steady, normal relationship for the geek while the ‘jock’ who is jokingly been called “Kirk” has had a couple of one night stands.  So out of those two – who has had the better ’sex life’?  Hm…….

See? Rodney didn’t need to get the girl! John’s only had a few flings (aside from ex-wife Nancy, in his past), and poor Ronon hasn’t had anyone, save for a flashback to Melena and a near-kiss with Keller! So why not let Ronon-the-”jock” have his perky little cheerleader? Why does Rodney have to have anyone at all? Tesla was arguably one of the world’s most brilliant minds, and he got along just fine as a life-long bachelor; I think that glimpse we had of Rodney in “The Last Man” went to show that bachelorhood suits him just fine as well, that he’s married to his work first and foremost. It would be refreshing to see a story that didn’t enforce the stereotype that you can’t be happy without a significant other. (Or if that significant other at least turned out to be a same-sex partner; that would have been something relatively new and different too, ey? *cough*) While Rodney’s got flaws, he’s not broken; while they are entitled to their opinions, I still wish people — Keller, the writers, and some of the fans — would stop trying to fix him! Sometimes, in trying to fix things, they just get made worse. We’ll see if Keller can get more likable in what time is left. I mean, she can’t get any more horrible, can she?

Well, for those who stuck around, thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I would like to invite you all to a “Goodbye to the ‘Gate” party in my chat-”Whirled”, The ‘Gate Roon (which is composed of several chat areas — feel free to explore!) at 11:10 EST on the night the final episode, “Enemy at the Gate”, airs (which looks thus far to be January 9th). And if you’re a rabid McShepper, I’ve made some “Team McShep” gear that may interest you ….

See you next week, for my review of “Infection”. Todd is back! Woo-hoo! Hopefully that will help me recover from all this McKeller exposure — I do indeed feel like I have an infection ….

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Wolfen Moondaughter is on the editorial board for the comics industry webzine Sequential Tart, for which she has written since late 2001. She’s an artist, too, having done spot illustrations for Dragonlance, among other things. In her spare time, she’s a rabid fanficcer/fanartist. See more of her work at her site, Wolfen’s Webworld.