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Hours.
It would take hours to fix the hole in the dome. Even with spare panels in storage on this god-forsaken continent, it would take hours (days, really) to get one hoisted and sealed properly into place.
In the meantime, who knew what kind of gaps there could be between the dome itself and the (likely) sparse covering over the hole created by the drone breaking through on its homicidal mission to destroy General O'Neil and his pilot.
All because of Beckett.
McKay knew that sounded like he didn't appreciate Carson Beckett's academic prowess in the field of medicine. He could already see the man had a way of elevating medicine into the realm of true science on occasion. But that did not make him infallible.
Not by a longshot.
"Don't even start with me, Rodney," Beckett said in a warning tone as he and McKay stood in the middle of the circus of shifting people and equipment, necks straining to see the hole above their heads. "It's not my fault. You're the one who made me sit in the chair. You're the bl…"
"And you're the one who activated the drone," McKay replied, arms crossed in front of him in a futile attempt to ward off the cold descending from above. What he needed was one of his hats.
Or ten.
Oh, god, he was going to freeze to death before he could get back to his quarters and find them.
"Thanks, Carson - we're all going to get hypothermia and die because of you.”
Okay, so maybe McKay could concede - he was being a bit melodramatic. But he was not the one to fire off the drone that nearly killed an Air Force general, was he?
No, that was the man standing beside him right now, arms folded across his chest as their necks both strained with the weight of holding their heads at an angle where they might be able to see a speck of the damage near the top of the dome.
How could he (Dr. Rodney McKay) have possibly known that asking a medical doctor with the ATA gene to visualize their location in the universe would set such a terrible series of nearly unfortunate events into motion?
No. Not a single ounce of this was his fault.
Beckett would just have to accept that and move on to other things - like life-saving research that would never be considered for funding in the Milky Way Galaxy.
"I don't think that's true."
Both men looked down and to their right at the sound of their expedition leader's voice.
Dr. Elizabeth Weir, peacemaker extraordinaire, with a pedigree designed specifically to make the negotiations of some of the most notoriously contentious treaties look like a walk in the park, was headed in their direction. If McKay was on the tenure track equivalent for a Nobel Prize in physics (which, by the way, he knew he was), then Dr. Weir was on a similar track towards the Peace Prize. He could respect that.
"Elizabeth, I am so incredibly sorry…"
Words of apology just continued to fall from Beckett's lips. Why couldn't he just be a man about it and admit that it was his responsibility?
"I know, Carson," Weir said, and McKay felt himself bristle at the unearned compassion in her voice. "I hate to tear you away, but there are a few people who weren't able to avoid the falling debris in the infirmary. I thought you might want to be the one to take a look at them."
Really? You're going to empathize with the biggest threat to this planet's security right now?
"Aye-" Beckett let out a long sigh. "Thank you, Elizabeth."
"Of course," Weir replied, the slightest of gracious smiles cracking her lips.
She waited until Beckett was gone to address McKay again. "I assume you'll want to get back to work as soon as everything is rearranged to your satisfaction?"
He nodded.
Every second the team wasted on getting reorganized was one they could have used analyzing data – both from the drone incident and Major Sheppard's time in the chair. So much data, so much to try to understand, and if they were going to be leaving for the city of the Ancients, they needed to know as much as they possibly could.
Maybe that way, the city would not be so much of a damn mystery when they got there.
"Very well." Weir's head came forward in that half-nod of understanding and agreement McKay did not quite know what to do with yet. "As you were, Dr. McKay."
"As you were, Dr. Weir."
And he watched as she walked away, the faintest of skips in her step-
Like this expedition to a new galaxy was the one thing she had been working towards her entire life and she was doing everything she could to contain her excitement because her one dream was finally coming true.
It was possible, he conceded in the half second before letting the thoughts of complaint about how she was already using military jargon take over as he went back to work, that Dr. Elizabeth Weir might have imagined herself becoming an astronaut as a kid, being like Captain Kirk and exploring strange new worlds in other galaxies.
In that case, maybe he would be skipping, too.