Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was just as well that Madison had arrived early for their office hours the next morning. Ronon was hurrying toward the bots' meeting room with two baskets in hand. Murderbot approached the door from inside but didn't question the humans' near simultaneous arrival.

"What's up, Ronon?" Madison asked as they set their own belonging on their desk.

"Couple questions for both you and Murderbot," Ronon said as he placed both of the baskets he carried on Madison's desk as well.

"First, this basket is for you," he said to Madison. Then he turned to Murderbot, "If you ate fruit or rolls I would have brought you something, sorry. Is there stuff I should pick up for you or Hanso at the morning market?"

"BotKin are not allowed at the morning market, so I do not know, but I doubt there is anything there for us. Thank you for asking."

Ronon shrugged. "People I know at the market would like to meet you. Both of you. They heard about the game proposal becoming a real life proposal for the new tower, about building interlocking communities including people from various planets and bots. The family that makes the rolls"—he pointed into the baskets—"Is from Toluse. Three generations. Fifteen people total. They were wondering how they could apply to live there if your proposal goes through. The collective that sells the fruit is interested, too. They have a sort of community within community belief system. Thought maybe Madison could visit them later today and also pick up some special lunch foods I've arranged for Carson. I drew a map of where to find them all."

For a person Madison had heard described as taciturn or speaking in grunts, Ronon could communicate a lot of information very quickly when he wanted to. He passed Madison the map, and they nodded. "I'll do my best, but how do they know about all that?"

Ronon patted the basket on Madison's desk. "Funny how many gamers show up at the morning market after staying up all night. I assumed you were discussing it? They talked about the hippogriffs?"

Madison glanced at Murderbot who nodded. "Sure, we'll see what we can work out."

"Thanks. Have to get this to Carson and get to the Gate." With that, Ronon carried his other basket away.

"I can write those initially interested in joining into our proposal after your lunch visits," Murderbot said. "Let me know how it goes and if they have any ideas to contribute. We had two other requests from gamer groups last night, some dragons and some merfolk. They gave me their real names and offered to speak at the upcoming council meeting. I think that means they're serious."

"This may be the closest I've ever come to being popular." Madison wasn't sure how they felt about that and started unpacking the basket Ronon had brought. One bite of a roll with something like currants was enough to convince Madison that they should spend more time at the morning market. The berries and something that looked like a kiwi fruit with orange inside were even better.

"It will help for you to make friends beyond the BotKin," Murderbot said.

"I'm not great at social stuff, but I'll try for the sake of our tower plan." Madison paused in their eating when they noticed how still Murderbot was sitting. "Just so you know, I'd still be every bit as much your friend even if lots of other people suddenly wanted to know me. We are friends, right?"

"I thought you would tell me. I have very little experience with friends."

"Maybe that's why we get along." When Murderbot didn't respond, Madison went on. "Until recently, I wasn't considered an adult, so I'm used to having limits placed on me that I don't like. I've always had parents, teachers, professors, even other students, act like they knew better and could boss me around, even when I was smarter and knew better than they did. I don't know if that sounds at all like what you go through here, but it affects how I feel about BotKin not being allowed to go certain places or have equal access to game accounts and Ancient tech. Just thought you should know."

"Is that empathy?" Murderbot looked up with that question, and Madison met their cameras face on.

"Maybe. I may not be the best human to ask about that." Not feeling like eating anymore, Madison set down the roll they'd been holding.

"Last night, you seemed to feel sad—or something negative—for not realizing the failed bot was the one most like me." Murderbot reached toward their neck, where the LED necklace had hung the night before, as if that were part of the memory. "I think I felt sad because you were sad, and I was also at fault for not telling you when I realized you didn't know."

"It's yours to tell or not," Madison said instantly. "I don't want to be some jerk who treats you like an experimental subject or like I know more than you do when I've only been here a week. I should have at least asked if you wanted to help with my simulations and what I was learning from that code. Do you want to work with me on that or would you rather not see it?"

"What do you think of my theory that although we both originated from Dr. Biro and Dr. McKay, it matters that they were trained partly by LabBot 1 while I was trained partly by Data?"

"I'm sure it matters. You were different people right from the start." Madison pulled up the code on the Ancient console where they usually gamed, so Murderbot could interact via the motion sensor interface. "Let me know if any of this bothers you or if I'm acting like a know it all. But on Earth we have something called GANs, or Generative Adversarial Networks. Where one algorithm tests another in the very early stages of training. I think something like that happened with the other bot. One training AI started testing the other and when the other failed discrimination tasks too often, they set up some sort of fatal loop, or I could interpret it as a power imbalance between two parts that were supposed to become one whole. Is it possible for you to look at this and tell if your early training had similar stages?"

Murderbot used gestures to rapidly read through the code. "I don't know my own code this way. But some early parts from MedBot 1 are obvious to me. The differences between LabBot 1 and Data could be key to your theory and mine. While we can't see either of their code this way so long as they survive, we could ask them to share training data from their previous interactions with MedBots. They can share that with me faster than with you, but you can plug it into simulations on Ancient systems faster than I can."

"If this works, we could test future combinations via simulation before starting another bot this way. I mean, at best it would only partially test for this one known failure mode. But that's as good as some genetic tests humans run before having kids."

Murderbot gestured to create tables with training differences they'd already recorded from LabBot 1 and Data. "Do you have any idea of the size of data sets we're going to have to enter?"

"Maybe we could use speech recognition to capture some of the training data even if we have to slow down a recording from how it's told to you," Madison suggested.

"We'll need error checking protocols," Murderbot added as Madison also set to work.

By the end of office hours, they'd outlined their proposal for Kusanagi to look over. Madison made sure the proposal included both their names.

#

As they approached the clinic on Lo Seco where Rodney had found Carson all but dead, a man of about Ronon's size stepped in front of the door and placed one hand on his hip and the other over a large, holstered knife at his waist.

"Lanteans, you're not welcome here."

Rodney stayed at the back of the group, more than happy never to set foot in that place again. He was also following Teyla's instructions to stay quiet and mostly out of sight, as she said, "We apologize for our rude behavior last visit. We come to make amends and bring a message from Healer Carson to the other healers here."

The man tried to stare Teyla down but failed. "Go wait by those trees." He lifted a hand from his hip to point at a spot far distant that was at least shaded. "If anyone wishes to hear the message you claim to carry, they will meet you there."

Teyla turned to John with raised eyebrows. John raised one eyebrow at Ronon. That silent communication somehow culminated in John leading Rodney and Biro in the indicated direction with Teyla following behind them while Ronon walked a curved route that kept all of them and the guard in sight at all times.

Minutes passed. At least two. When Rodney tried to hide behind John and pull out his tablet, John said, "Stay alert."

Rodney tried not to roll his eyes. He seriously hoped this wouldn't be the sort of planet where people shot at you for being rude—on your previous visit.

The person who finally came to meet them had rough skin and wore shapeless light yellow clothes, like scrubs meant to look cheerful. She had dark hair liberally streaked with gray, wound in a braid around her head, and a series of sheathes on her belt that might hold variously sized knives. Or something else. "My name is Healer Taran. I will hear you."

Teyla introduced their party, including "Healer Biro," and then asked, "Should we wait for anyone else?"

"No." Taran's tone reminded Rodney instantly of Carson saying "no" to any of a hundred requests over the years. Surprisingly, he liked her better for that.

"Very well," Teyla said and motioned Rodney forward.

"We have a video to play that shows Healer Carson speaking." Rodney held out the simple—expendable—tablet they'd prepared for this mission. "Would you like an explanation of how a video is made first? And would you like to sit someplace to watch?"

The glare she fixed on Rodney was fierce. "Healer Carson explained some of your imaging devices to me. I prefer to stand."

Now Taran reminded Rodney of Ronon, and he could imagine how Carson would have made the effort to explain such things to her. He passed the tablet with the video queued up to Teyla, and watched her hold it patiently through Carson's rather long explanation of his current health, the vaccine, anti-viral, liver and kidney dialysis, and how the Lanteans might work with the Network of Healers going forward. Rodney's feet were tired and he sat down on a fallen tree halfway through, ignoring John's huff of disapproval. He pulled out his life signs detector and challenged himself to determine which life signs in the clinic were doctors verses patients based solely on heartrate, movement, and position relative to the ground.

When the video ended, Taran said only, "Healer Carson's suggestions are interesting. I will see if others will come see, so we may better decide."

By the time a group of four healers had started playing the video again, Rodney had determined that of 63 people in the clinic, eight were almost certainly healers. The 31 lying on low bedding near the floor were most likely patients, although Rodney couldn't rule out family member being allowed to stay with them who might also be lying down. Only a couple of heartrates were erratic enough to indicate obvious medical issues. There were no signs anyone planned to ambush them or chase them back to the Gate.

Bored again, he pulled up the proposal from Island Empire that had supposedly been written mostly by Murderbot. It read well and was persuasive, although Rodney would have to compare it to other sources to see how much was plagiarized and pasted together. He was curious to read fanfic created by the BotKin, but couldn't get over the idea they were in some way his grandkid. He could ask if they'd written any stories they'd want him to read, and maybe he'd ask Madison at the same time. That seemed like the mature, adult thing to do. Maybe he'd finally figure out how to be an uncle, or whatever. He was wondering if either of them wrote in any Star Trek universes when the healers huddled around the tablet began to argue.

"Is it not a deception?"

"If Healer Carson knew of such things, surely he would have called his people sooner."

"He was too proud."

Taran huffed, "He was too self-sacrificing. We have all seen healers behave irrationally about their own health."

"You still talk like him."

"Shut up," Taran said. "He sent these people to share what helped him. Everyone here is at risk for contracting the Bad Blood. We owe it to our patients and ourselves to learn and share this immunization and the possibility of treatment."

"We have no proof. Our patients know even less."

"They wear not the yellow coverings Tan Po complained of last time."

"Tan Po will be hardest to persuade, although his planet has the most to gain."

"Please," Dr. Biro cut in, "I would be happy to answer questions and explain our planet's past experiences with offering vaccines and treatments to a new population. I have done all I can to assure the vaccine's safety. Both Ronon and Teyla were vaccinated without incident. But there could be someone here from a different ancestry or with some other illness that we have not yet encountered."

"Why should we trust you?"

"I am also a healer, a friend and co-worker of Healer Carson. I came to you because he asked me to." Biro sounded confident, despite her lack of offworld experience.

"Have you heard Healer Carson speak of her?" One of the others asked Taran.

"He rarely spoke of his own people, but no, I do not remember that name," Taran said.

"Did he ever talk about me?" Rodney asked from where he sat. "Rodney McKay?"

"He did speak of someone named Rodney. A patient who complained a lot, but also a close friend. And also of Ronon," Taran looked to Ronon and something Rodney couldn't understand passed between them. "A Runner who insisted that Healer Carson operate outdoors on a planet with damaging sunlight to remove a tracker placed close to his spine. Healer Carson told me that story when teaching about imaging technology and other tools that could have made the surgery safer."

"Would you share those other tools?" Another healer asked. "What about the liver and kidney machines Healer Carson says he'll need throughout life unless someone is found to give parts from their own bodies?"

"Right now we only have one kidney machine and one liver machine," Biro said. "Carson needs them for a couple hours almost every day. But if someone else needed them as badly, we could offer to take that patient back with us. If others here agree to this vaccine trial, I will also take blood samples to test and tell you if anyone here might be compatible to donate to someone in need. Usually the best matches come from relatives, who would also benefit most from vaccination."

"If you cut into two people—if you move parts from one to another—how likely are they both to survive?"

"Where I come from, fewer than one in a hundred patients die from such surgery," Biro said matter-of-factly, and the Healers around her gasped or wrinkled their foreheads. "Donations are common, especially among relatives. Some people sign up ahead of time to donate to anyone in need, in case they later die from a head injury or something that does not affect the needed organs. We can discuss options and what the risks might be here. But at first, especially if we find a donor for Carson, we would probably take both donor and a willing local Healer to learn the procedure at our medical center with our equipment. However, any person receiving new organs would need special medicine for the rest of their lives, to convince their body to accept another person's organs. There are still risks after the surgery for the organ recipient."

"Someone who would already be dead from Bad Blood, otherwise? We have patients who breathe or eat through tubes after we save them from other diseases. Even a year or two more is precious to most families. I would hear all Healer Biro has to say." Taran and two other healers agreed with the man who spoke.

"I still don't trust them," said the other healer. But she didn't interfere when the rest led their party to a building behind the infirmary and offered them tea and fruit while they spoke together.

The discussions went on for hours. Rodney would have counted it a complete waste of his time, except that he was covertly recording every word said for Carson. That didn't mean he had to listen. Instead, Rodney had plenty of time to analyze Murderbot's proposal, which was at least more rational and better written than the current batch of project proposals submitted by his minions. Once he'd read all of those as well, he started designing sleeves or attachments for the vibrator he'd recently learned that John liked after all.

#

Carson had been lying in bed since he finished physical therapy. Without Ronon to massage his legs or even hold his hand, there was nothing to distract the doctor from how weak and painful his body was. While he'd recovered tremendously from the state his friends found him in on Lo Seco, it was discouraging to still need Hanso's help to get to and from the bathroom at times like this. He hadn't even tried to shower yet, just the one bath three days before and washing up at the bathroom sink.

He felt at least eighty years old, although he'd known octogenarians who'd scaled Mt. Kilimanjaro, and he'd always hoped to age that well. At the moment, his body disgusted him. The recklessness with which he'd thrown his health away was disgraceful for a doctor, and even for his own sake. All the care Ronon gave him felt undeserved. Carson might have felt undeserving of such attentions at any point in his life, but at least he would have been able to reciprocate before. Now he was unsure if he'd ever be able to perform as a lover, and while he'd counseled many patients on how other intimacies and actions could matter as much or more, he found himself mourning his lost opportunities with Ronon.

Carson knew he was wallowing. He resolved several times to think about or do something else, but not having the strength to get out of bed undermined his efforts. A knock on his door almost made him laugh at himself. In fact, he chuckled a bit when Hanso rushed to greet whoever as Carson thought the door open.

"Hello?" a young voice that took him a moment to place called out. "It's Madison bringing lunch. May I come in?"

"Yes, please forgive me for not welcoming you at the door." Carson struggled to push himself into a sitting position at the head of his bed, before they came around the bookshelf and saw him.

"No problem." Madison carried a tray with a shallow bowl full of berries and two rounder bowls with vegetable soup. "Ronon asked me to pick this up from a Turthan who lives in the tower where we had the picnic last night. It was good to meet someone who actually lived there, and they gave me a brief tutorial on Pegasus fruits and vegetables."

Madison set the bowls on the nightstand beside Carson, and Hanso brought two spoons and cloth napkins. Carson thanked both of them.

"Would you like some company, or is there anything else I could help with or bring?" Madison asked without looking at him.

Carson motioned to the chair beside his bed. "If you have time to stay for lunch and would like to share most of these berries as well as the soup, Ronon always overestimates what I can eat, and you rarely get fruit this ripe in the mess hall. Hanso is also very skilled at making tea."

"Um, I guess I could try some tea, if you don't mind, Hanso?" Madison had no problem looking directly into Hanso's cameras.

Hanso waved their antennae in little circles. "Would you like sweet tea? I can make peppermint tea with sugar? Or there is Carson's favorite, which is a smoky black tea? Or chamomile?"

"The peppermint with some sugar sounds great," Madison said.

Hanso blinked three light. "Would you like your usual tea, Dr. Beckett?"

"I'll have peppermint with Madison, and you can call me Carson around them."

Three lights and Hanso was off to make tea.

Carson picked up a few berries then said to Madison, "Please don't be shy. I can't even eat half that many with all this soup. Are you hungry?"

"I'm sort of on a Hobbit schedule today," Madison said, biting their lip in a half smile. "Ronon brought me a second breakfast when he dropped off instructions. Then my lesson on local produce involved sampling as well. The South and Southwest piers seem like very nice places to live. At this point, I've exchanged fewer words with all the scientists in the hall where I live than I did with various locals and others out there today. Do you think it will work out for us to share the top floor of the new building with my uncle and Colonel Sheppard?"

"I'm a bit worried about Sheppard living comfortably with BotKin, but I noticed Rodney didn't invite Data or any others to actually live in their suites, and Sheppard was holding one of the CatBots last night. It's possible he and others have grown more accepting of the BotKin since the first generation."

"Why didn't Sheppard like them?"

"The first time Sheppard saw a CatBot it was on Rodney's chest or neck while he was sleeping. Sheppard knocked it across the room and nearly shot it, at least the way Rodney tells the story. Rodney complained to everyone as if the Colonel had attacked a defenseless pet. But most who heard could easily imagine how an Ancient device would look like a threat, especially on a sleeping person, especially on Atlantis where the Ancients left some pretty dangerous toys lying around."

"Was the CatBot okay?" Madison asked.

They were definitely related to McKay. Carson picked up his soup and enjoyed the warmth as he explained. "You'd have to ask your uncle. I can't recall for certain if that was Data or not. But I think that's what led to keeping bots mostly in science areas. I don't know how things are on Earth now, but a lot of the SGC's experiences with bots or other tech that might seem intelligent haven't gone well. While we try to break down prejudices against other cultures and lifestyles that Gate teams might encounter, tech is a different story."

"I've seen and read plenty of stories about bots or AI working against people," Madison said as they rolled a smooth pink berry between their fingers. "I'm part of the Harry Potter generation and grew up with the admonition to 'never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain.'" Carson had first heard of Harry Potter from Ronon just days before, and Madison's quote didn't help his understanding, except to revise how significant it was, at least to some people on Earth. "But that's the thing. I majored in computer science, and I'm learning about AI fast. I may understand the BotKin better than I understand humans at this point. It might be different for you as a doctor who understands humans in ways I never will, but to me, they're all people. Isn't there some doctors' oath about 'first, do no harm.'"

Resting his soup on his lap Carson said, "That's widely misquoted and misattributed to the Hippocratic Oath, but the sentiment holds. Still, the reasons why I'd try not to hurt a Jumper are different, and lesser in my mind, than the reasons why I'd try not to hurt a cat. So the question may be: which is a CatBot more like?"

"I don't know the CatBots that well yet," Madison said. "And I know even with Earth tech, kids and some other people get confused by machine learning that simulates human responses, especially in a text only system. But Murderbot doesn't seem like a simulation by any test I know, at least not any more than I am. Half the people I know are neurodivergent in some way. I'd reject any argument that we're less human."

"As would I," Carson assured.

"Then what I know from looking at code and tech, as well as interacting with Murderbot, suggests they're fully a person. At some point, we have to give the benefit of the doubt to those who are different in some way. And seriously, people here must realize my uncle or my advisor are also smart and different and a little bit scary. I have no doubt either one could destroy Atlantis and all of us in an hour if they chose to. But we'd be fools to try to restrict them to the science areas. I think the BotKin have already been through a lot. We're training them to be like us, and that's probably the part that makes them most dangerous."

Carson sipped his soup in silence for a few moments as he thought. "It's good getting to know you, Madison. And I appreciate you bringing me lunch. Is there any way I can help with your plans for that tower and the bots?"

"Actually," Madison pulled out a tablet Carson hadn't even realized was stashed within their science jacket, "Ronon mentioned making a space for refugees or those needing long term medical treatment in the new tower. I could use your advice on setting up a physical therapy area and maybe a dialysis center, especially if we get more machines like Biro says she and Dr. Srisuk are requesting. You want to read over the rights and residency changes that Murderbot and I worked out to cover such possibilities?"

#

After visiting Carson, Madison walked into the CS-3 lab and froze in their tracks. Kusanagi sat on a stool by a lab bench full of wiring and etching tools. She was filing the edges off a curved metal plate with a starburst pattern covering one side. Without looking up from her work she said, "Hello, Madison."

That got Madison moving forward again. "Hello, Dr. Kusanagi. Would you like my help with anything?"

"I'm nearly finished," Kusanagi said. "Just doing a bit of reconstructive art for Cheshire. Someone spilled acid on him."

"Was that the bot between JiJi and Goose last night? I saw how they all hurried over to you when they arrived, but I never got a clear look at the one in the middle," Madison said.

"That was Cheshire. I'm not sure if the chemist stuck monitoring experiments during the party yesterday was careless, in a foul mood, or intentionally spilled acid on Cheshire. But she's lucky the only damage was external and easily fixed." Kusanagi's fierce tone belied the calm expression on her face.

"So it wasn't some guy with a greasy ponytail who lives in my hallway?"

"No," Kusanagi paused with the metal file still in hand, "Is there a problem I should know about?"

"Nothing specific, just someone who made a couple of nasty comments about bots."

"Well, if you—or the bots—are ever threatened or harassed, let me know right away. Unfortunately, McKay was right about some expedition members still harboring prejudices against robots and anything resembling global AI."

"Do you think there might be global AI in other systems here?" Madison asked, perching on a stool across from their advisor.

"If so, they've had the upper hand at least since Atlantis reached full power." Kusanagi focused on her filing as she said, "It probably wouldn't be to anyone's advantage to mention the possibility in official reports or to say, the Chief Science Officer. When the program goes public, we'll need people in both the Milky Way and Pegasus to trust us with what Atlantis has to offer."

"Should they?" Madison couldn't help but ask.

With steady hands and a calm voice, Kusanagi said, "Should they trust the IOA, the US government, the Japanese government? I've seen analyses that show people's fears of AI and robots parallel fears of corporate power. But should they trust corporations? And if they knew some of the hackers I've known, then they'd really be worried." Kusanagi looked up for a moment, barely meeting Madison's eyes. "Perhaps those who feel powerful within current systems have more reason to fear strong AI than the status quo. For myself, I feel safer with Atlantis and the BotKin than anyplace on Earth."

Emboldened by their advisor's frankness, Madison asked, "What about all the restrictions on the BotKin?"

"A compromise, hopefully temporary, at least the ones placed by Earthlings." Kusanagi held up the curved metal plate she'd been filing. The pattern of overlapping starbursts caught and refracted the light. "We have replacement plates, but Cheshire wanted the reminder, reclaimed to make a personal mark. It's a reminder to me too, that we have to be careful how we use whatever power we may have."

#

Carson let Hanso push his wheelchair to the transporter, but he managed from the transporter to the infirmary under his own power.

"Looking good," Sheppard called from where he stood with his team. They seemed to have finished their post-mission screenings. Carson wasn't sure if they'd been waiting for him or waiting to see how the patients they brought back from Lo Seco would fare.

"Thank you, I'm feeling much better," Carson replied. Ronon met his eyes and smiled.

From across the room a familiar voice called out, "Healer Carson, is that you?"

He wheeled himself toward the large scanners until he found Healer Taran, standing where the patient in the scanner could keep her in view.

Carson went to her staying out of Khun Somchai's way, and said, "Healer Taran, I'm so glad you were the one chosen to come."

"Healer Follaz came as well. His patient has the most likely donor match found so far, a sister. They are from Grusset, as is Healer Follaz, and were only willing to make the journey with him. The other three patients needing dialysis, if I understand the terminology correctly, were all familiar enough with me. Both Follaz and I will study the transfer procedure and as much else as we can learn." She looked briefly around the Atlantis infirmary, full of shiny metal and bright white surfaces. "You are the best testament to the quality of care here."

"I should have returned sooner, for all our patients' sakes."

"To each place in its own time," Taran said. "I brought a large jar of the Osalii ointment. Make sure you take some for yourself once Healer Biro agrees it is safe. It will help your skin recover from your long illness."

At that point Somchai approached and said, "I have finished my final tests. If you would join us in the room you all chose, we can discuss treatment options."

"Are you well enough to join us, Healer Carson?" Taran asked.

"We would have to ask all the patients before sharing information with another," Somchai said.

Taran laughed, "You had to ask because you are an outsider. Those who come to our Network of Healers believe healers should discuss and share information to decide and act wisely. Healer Carson is one of us and already part of that agreement."

Somchai dipped his head in recognition but said, "I hope you will not mind if I confirm consent to meet regulations here."

"We are happy to learn your ways of offering care as well as new treatments and technologies." Taran went to help the patient now sitting up on the full body scanner, and they all regrouped in an ancillary section of the infirmary mostly used for overflow. Of the eight beds in the room, four held patients. The kidney and liver machines Carson had been using daily had also been moved there, along with the usual monitors and IV systems.

After a long round of introductions, permissions, and clarifications among both healers and patients, it was clear the new patients and healers all preferred to stay together for now. None of them had the ATA gene. Everyone had been through decontamination and had no further issues requiring isolation. All four patients would require dialysis unless organ donors could be found. Only one of them also need the bioartificial liver and eventually a liver donor. Another one had a hernia that should be treated as soon as possible. The sister who had come along was in fact a good donor match. With proper education and counseling protocols, they might be able to complete that procedure just a few days hence.

Both Healers Taran and Follaz kept looking back towards the scans displayed on various Earth and Ancient monitors around the room, no matter what they were discussing. "Can you see inside a person like this while you operate?" Follaz asked.

"For some procedures we scan or position a camera to help us see better," Somchai answered. "For the kidney transfer, it won't be necessary. But we can practice with a virtual simulation, going through every step with moving three dimensional pictures, before the real thing." He gestured with his hands pulling in each of three dimensions, and Follaz at least nodded.

Lansol, the patient who needed a new liver as well as a kidney made a clicking sound with his tongue, which Carson knew meant he wanted to ask a question. When he had the healers' attention he asked, "If there is no one to give me parts of their body or if I do not wish to take them from anyone, will I never be able to go home?"

When no one else responded, Carson asked, "What planet are you from?"

"I have no remaining home except Lo Seco, Healer." Lansol couldn't be more than half Carson's age, but he looked almost as unhealthy as Carson had when he'd woken up back on Atlantis.

"I can make no promises, but I hope in time we will bring back at least a kidney machine for the healing center on Lo Seco. Do you understand a liver donor, if we can find one, would only be giving you part of their liver? Within a few weeks you would both regrow a full-sized liver. Will you take time to think about this while we take time to think about good solutions?"

"Yes, Healer. Thank you."

"Thank you," Carson said. A sense of peace and warmth filled him at this small chance to practice his craft.

They set up a schedule for the new arrivals to access all the machines and therapies Carson had already been benefiting from. Some adjustments were made to involve Healers Taran and Follaz in mental health assessments as well as assuring the patients could give duly informed consent on each option. Carson worried there had already been some level of coercion in offering those on Lo Seco the vaccine trial and possibilities of treatment and training on Atlantis in exchange for cooperation and blood samples, but he was in no position to second guess Biro at the moment. Instead, he stayed as long as he could, trying to understand what would work best long term, both for accommodating such groups on Atlantis and for supporting their Network of Healers elsewhere.

#

When they ended up in the supply closet near the infirmary again, Rodney didn't mind not having a bed. Since John had told him these hook ups were a sort of tribute to the first time Rodney blew him, and that he'd been the best, the setting was a lot more of a turn on. Rodney got down on his knees without being asked and started to unfasten John's pants. He could feel John hardening beneath his touch.

"That is so hot," John said, scratching fingernails lightly through Rodney's hair. "I love your mouth."

"I love your cock," Rodney answered, refusing to think of anything but giving the best blow job ever. Now that he knew what John liked, he could definitely outperform that first time. He sucked in the tip of John's cock at the same moment he started to roll the man's balls. Keeping both those movements in rhythm, his other hand traced John's perineum and teased around his hole.

Taking his time as John filled and tensed, Rodney ran his tongue in circles and then toyed with John's slit and the large vein underneath. Whenever John gasped, Rodney repeated his last motions a couple more times, rewarding John for slight losses of control, until John was panting hard.

By then John's cock was messy and slick. Rodney slathered the fingers that had been playing with John's hole and then carefully slid one inside. With John standing, it was a bit harder to find what he wanted. He kept working John slowly, refusing to speed up or suck harder until he located that bundle of nerves inside. Now he could play John like an instrument.

He'd focus on the prostate while easing back on suction and what his hand was doing at the base of John's cock. When Rodney increased suction, he'd let his finger inside ease away. He waited until John was starting to shake and cling to the shelves before he pressed John from inside and then sucked his cock deep, playing John forward and back until the man came like he couldn't hold back anymore.

When John sank to the floor, he needed a moment to catch his breath. Then he said, "Put yourself in my mouth now. Do what you want."

John had never let Rodney fuck his face before. Rodney wasn't sure if John was asking for that now or if he'd even be able to handle it in his current state. But Rodney wanted John's mouth, and he wasn't going to take long to come at this point. He opened his pants and positioned himself as best he could. Then he shifted John's head a little lower. The man was still a relaxed bag of bones as his mouth fell open.

Rodney slid only a little way onto John's hot, wet tongue. Then he caressed John's cheek and jaw, closing that sweet mouth around his crown. Rocking just an inch or two forward and back into the slight suction and twitches of John's tongue was enough to bring Rodney right to the edge.

"Just a little more. Suck harder and let me push a little deeper. I'm going to come down your throat."

John sucked wet and sloppy like his life depended on it. Rodney only needed six small thrusts before he was coming hard, not too deep. He wanted John to taste it. Feel it. Enjoy it.

Then they were both collapsed together on the cold closet floor. And it was better than it had ever been.

#

Murderbot followed Madison into their room and asked, "How do you feel about sharing a floor in the tower with your uncle?"

"I barely know him, but I think it would be entertaining," Madison answered as they pulled off their shoes. "I like living around smart people. At home and at Tech, I learned six interesting facts before I finished breakfast most days. So long as I have my own room to retreat to, I can live with just about anyone."

"Probably not if all those smart people were actively trying to kill you."

"You know that's just an expression."

Murderbot shrugged their fully rotational shoulder blades. " I know the quote by Charles Lutwidge Dodgeson."

Madison almost said something stupid, then asked, "Is that another name for Lewis Carroll?"

"His real name rather than his penname." Murderbot settled into their triangular seating configuration by the Ancient console. "It's public information anyone could access."

Madison threw a sock, which was casually deflected. "Why'd you want me to spend time with Carson?"

"You were taking him food anyway. Providing company to someone recovering from major trauma is a socially approved action."

"It had nothing to do with him possibly sharing a floor with us or offering advice for the physical therapy area?" Madison didn't doubt that Murderbot had a game plan involving all of them and the future of Atlantis that was at least as complex as whatever Kusanagi was engineering with the Island Empire game.

"Gathering more information earlier in a decision process is logical." Murderbot tapped beside the motion sensor device meaningfully.

Madison took their seat and logged into Island Empire. The image that greeted them showed their two hippogriffs flying high above the new tower. "Are you sure you'd want to live with them?"

"I don't need to eat. I could enter my room in your suite through a service duct if I didn't want to interact with you or others, but so far, privacy hasn't mattered to me."

"Then what's the point of living there?"

"Choice." Murderbot answered immediately. "And I've never had my own room."

#

By the time Carson had finished with the healers and patients from Lo Seco, Ronon and his team had gone from the infirmary. Hanso helped Carson back to his room where dinner had already been left on a covered tray by his door. So Carson ate and prepared for bed, figuring Ronon had better things to do.

The knock at his door came just before Carson turned out the lights. Hanso rushed to greet whoever it was as Carson thought the door open.

"Hi, Hanso."

Carson heard Ronon's voice and the bot's reply of, "Hi, Ronon," before both appeared at the end of his bed.

"Hope it isn't too late." Ronon was freshly scrubbed, curls still damp, and wearing looser, softer looking clothes than usual.

"Not at all. I'm sure you had a lot to do post mission. Would you like some tea?" Carson's words were rushed and his insides fluttered, wanting Ronon closer. When Ronon declined tea, Hanso moved to the corner they'd chosen as their own with the tablet Carson had set up just for them. Ronon sat on one side of the bed, and Carson smelled something a bit spicy that he couldn't quite place until Ronon pulled out a round sample jar.

"Biro sent this saying it checks out as safe and contains vitamin E. Something Healer Taran brought for conditioning and cleaning your skin." Ronon trailed a hand down Carson's wrist to his palm before taking his hand. "I'd like to help rub it in." Ronon's eyes were dark and shadowed with only one light on in the room, and Carson was caught up in watching the man blink. "I could start with your back if you take off your shirt." When Carson still didn't answer Ronon said, "Or I could unbutton it for you."

"Are you trying to seduce me or just being helpful?" Carson asked, a little breathless.

Ronon stretched his fingers to stroke up Carson's wrist. "After all these years, I don't think seducing or courting mean the same to me as to anyone from Earth. I want to explore you, explore every possibility. Take my time. Try each new thing a few times maybe, until we know what we want with each other. To answer your question, I'd have to already know."

A tingling shiver swept outward across Carson's entire body from their single point of contact. He thought of Ronon describing Satedans as feeling love beneath the skin. The phrase "more than skin deep" came to mind, and Carson was almost certain what he felt was a desire to explore every possibility, and maybe that could be the beginning of love.

Unbuttoning his blue flannel pajama shirt as an excuse to look down, Carson said, "Anything you're willing to tell me as you go would help me understand better what this all means to you. It sounds like your previous experiences with people from Earth didn't go so well."

"I didn't want to explain for them as much as I'm willing to explain for you." Ronon released Carson's hand to let him remove his pajama top and set it aside. "Lie down."

Carson rolled to present his back, and Ronon eased a pillow under his shoulders and head.

"That good?" Ronon asked, smoothing out one corner.

Carson shifted a little until he was more comfortable. "I'm fine. Anything else you need?"

"I'll grab a couple towels." Ronon was back in under a minute and Carson could hear him rubbing his palms together before setting them on Carson's shoulders. Ronon's hands were large and slippery. The room smelled even more of the spicy lotion, something like ginger or cardamom that Carson had smelled before in his work. But each healer probably mixed it a little differently. Carson would remember to thank Taran for bringing this batch. For the time being, he let himself focus on the confident hands making broad strokes up and down his back.

"My skin feels warm wherever you touch. Is that something in the lotion or do I feel chilled to you?" Carson wondered about natural vasodilators that would increase blood flow to the skin as well as his own autonomic reactions.

Ronon grunted softly. "Your skin warms as I rub this in. But if you feel chilly, you could think the room a little warmer."

"You won't be too hot?"

"Not wearing my leathers tonight." Then in a lower tone, Ronon added, "I could take my shirt off as well."

"To me, that sounds like you're trying to be seductive, or at least flirtatious. Is it different for you?"

Ronon chuckled and circled his hands. "Lived most of my adult life here, so I know that much. On Sateda, clothing was more optional, especially on top. Not just for men. When women were nursing or if it was hot—Satedans were more practical that way."

"I used to think you didn't like talking, especially about personal or Satedan matters."

"Comes and goes. Never wanted to talk to Woolsey."

Carson laughed remembering when Ronon really wouldn't talk. Woolsey was grateful if he could get five words out of him. But when Carson needed answers to medical questions, Ronon had often told him more than Sheppard would. "Do you see yourself as practical that way?"

"Sometimes." Ronon added more lotion and worked his way along Carson's arms. He wasn't digging deeply, but the way he traced and supported each muscle, made Carson relax into his hold. "Sometimes it's hard for me to talk. Or it doesn't seem worth the effort."

"What makes talking seem worth the effort?" Carson asked, even as his face sank further into his pillow as his arms stretched out to the sides.

"Wanting more than attention. I want to build something. Build understanding or a relationship." Ronon worked the lotion into one wrist and hand as he pulled back to ask, "Now how do I ask about taking off your pants without it sounding like we've already decided about something more?"

Carson turned his face as far as he could, and Ronon leaned down to meet his eyes. "You wording it that way and backing off to work on just my hand before you asked makes me think you've made a pretty good study of people here."

"Naw, just you." Ronon ran one hand up Carson's arm again. "But I guess I did alright, since you're still relaxed. That mean I can take your pants off?"

Trying for a teasing tone he hadn't used in a while, Carson said, "Will you tell me what you're thinking as you do?"

"Sure you want to know?" Ronon's voice was low, but his expression was soft. He stayed where Carson could see him easily while waiting for an answer.

"How else will we build understanding?"

"Okay, then this is all for you." Ronon gave Carson's hand a squeeze and trailed fingers down Carson's side to the waistband of his flannel pajama pants. "I'm thinking how much I want to touch you. Also how strange it is that Earth people put so much work into sleep clothes, with buttons and elastic." He slid the pants down slowly, letting Carson lift his hips and adjust as needed. "I won't deny that I like seeing your ass and thighs, even if it makes me want to feed you more and help you get in shape again."

Ronon set the pants aside with the pajama shirt Carson had removed earlier. Then he pulled off his own shirt as well. "I'll take off the rest of my clothes if you want. It's plenty warm in here."

As he smoothed a generous helping of lotion around Carson's lower back and ass, Ronon said, "Your skin is so soft here. With the lotion it's shiny and stretches a little better. I don't know if I should tell you that's sexy to me. But it's true. The give of your skin and the flesh of your ass is attractive. It pinks up a bit as I'm rubbing. Makes me wonder what it would be like to work some oil inside you or if you even like that sort of sex."

Carson's hole twitched, and his ass flexed at the thought. He was sure Ronon noticed, but he met honestly with honesty. "I haven't done that in a long time and don't know if or when I'll be recovered enough, but yes, I enjoy giving and receiving that way, with fingers or cocks or toys."

Ronon traced a finger half way down Carson's crack but not farther. Carson didn't believe he was recovered enough for any sort of sex. Nonetheless, he felt his cock firming up a bit beneath him as Ronon cupped his cheeks before circling and stroking appreciatively. The idea that someone as beautiful as Ronon could find Carson attractive, even in his current condition, was heady.

The way Ronon's hands worked their way down Carson's thighs, fingers deep between his thighs where the skin was thin and sensitive, made Carson shiver and squirm a bit.

"Good to know I'm not alone in this," Ronon said, "But I'll try to help you relax for now." Ronon's hands worked up and down Carson's thighs from ass to knees in a way that didn't have to be sexual, but Carson felt it almost as if Ronon was stroking inside him.

"On Sateda," Ronon began, "I think people were less concerned about orgasms. Not to say we enjoyed them any less, but sex and touch didn't have to lead there. Sometimes people are tired, or they want to wait and do more in the morning, or one person comes a bunch and the other's body isn't set for that."

Carson almost asked if Ronon was trying to make him feel better. He'd probably heard plenty of jokes from Earth military about erectile dysfunction, poor performance, failure to launch, or whatever colloquialisms were popular these days. While Carson couldn't claim he was immune to those concerns, he'd done enough medical counseling and been raised in such a way not to be ashamed if he couldn't climax now or at some times in the past. As Ronon reached Carson's ankles and feet, he was actually dealing with quite a different problem.

"Let me lay down this towel to absorb any excess lotion." Ronon matched actions to words. "Now you can roll onto your back, and I'll do the rest of your skin."

Carson smiled and buried his face in the pillow.

After a beat Ronon said, "You don't need to be embarrassed, but I have a second towel you can use to cover up if you want."

Carson realized he didn't want to cover anything. He rolled onto his back and looked down at his own half hard cock. "I'm surprised it managed to react that much."

"I'll take it as a compliment," Ronon said, as he took more lotion and started to work his way up Carson's calves. It didn't take long, since he'd been able to reach around that part fairly well from behind. But Ronon took his time when he reached Carson's thighs, and Carson's cock filled a bit more in approval. Then Ronon spoke again, "I can imagine a lot of ways this could go from here. I haven't had much luck talking about this stuff with people from Earth, but I think you might be different."

"I can talk, at least," Carson said.

"I want to finish putting lotion on the rest of your skin," Ronon said. "I can't force my body not to react at all, but I can keep to touches any healer might use, and we can both ignore however much my body reacts."

Carson couldn't help glancing down at that, and the way Ronon was kneeling, with one leg between Carson's calves, hid nothing once Carson looked. The loose pants Ronon had chosen for this visit, perhaps his equivalent to lounge pants given his opinions on pajamas, were obviously tented. It didn't take a doctor's knowledge to deduce that Ronon's cock was large and he wasn't wearing anything under those pants.

"Dear god," Carson sighed as his own cock gave an impressive twitch.

"Not something any other cultures I know say in such situations. But I'm fine with that." Ronon slid his thumbs up the inside of Carson's thighs and said, "If neither of us wants to ignore this, I could be naked as I finish rubbing lotion everywhere. If my cock brushes against you and feels some of the heating effect, I certainly won't mind, although I'm thinking you'd rather feel my mouth at the end than have this lotion on your most sensitive skin tonight."

"I don't know how much I can manage," Carson said. The sight of Ronon's bare chest, and the distinctively male smell of him even over the spicy notes of the lotion, certainly had Carson wanting.

"I keep telling you, I don't need to know ahead of time. If you're happy with all of that, let me try. In a spirit of exploration. We can change directions at any time."

"Yes, please," Carson said.

"That's something I'm more than happy to hear in such situations." Ronon stood to pull off his pants. His cock was easily as large now as Carson had imagined, and almost fully erect.

Ronon crawled up Carson's body like a panther stalking prey. When his knees were just outside Carson's thighs, Ronon stopped and eased himself down as if sitting, but putting almost no weight on Carson. The larger man's balls grazed the inside of Carson's thighs, barely enough to feel. Ronon breathed in slowly, meeting Carson's eyes. Then he slathered his hands with lotion and slid them casually up Carson's hips and sides.

Carson shuddered at the gentle touch, and either his motion or the way Ronon was leaning forward brought their cocks together for the first time. The touch was still feather light, but Carson felt himself harden as if seeking more contact. Ronon's eyes grew darker as his pupils swallowed the brown ring around them.

The moment stretched as Ronon ran his hands up to Carson's shoulders and down his inner arms. That skin was so sensitized it felt aflame. Carson's body shuddered and twitched.

Ronon stroked his inner arms as if they were an erogenous zone, and in that moment, they seemed to be. At the same time, Ronon hovered above, thighs, cock, and balls, barely brushing against Carson no matter how each of them moved.

When Carson groaned, Ronon traced back up his arms and started to smooth lotion into his pecs, letting his thumbs flick Carson's nipples. "I didn't expect this tonight," Ronon said. "I wore soft clothes thinking maybe I could lie beside you, but now, it's like you're tearing me open. This line here"—Ronon traced down from Carson's sternum with both hands—"means something to Satedans, almost like your 'glory trail' but not as crude. Yes, it leads to your cock, but also to this area just above." Ronon's hands stopped, stroking just above Carson's cock, or under where the tip had managed to lift itself up from Carson's abdomen. "Do you remember what I said about the 'echna' and the desire to merge?"

Carson couldn't speak. He could barely nod. If his body had been capable of orgasm, he thought he would have come already.

Instead, Ronon's hands traced back up to his sternum. "This line runs through our centers of deepest emotion. To me it's fascinating, intimate, a place where I might tear you apart or hold you together." Ronon continued to trace his hands up and down that line, and Carson felt that touch the way Ronon described it, as a seam that held him together, now shivering beneath Ronon's hands.

Minutes seemed to pass with Ronon tracing up and down. His cock and balls rocked lightly against Carson's, more present than before, but still a tease to them both. Carson was breathing hard, but his body could barely move. All he could do was feel and watch Ronon. Ronon was watching his own hands on Carson's body. His pupils were blown, and he was breathing hard too. His cock was huge and almost purple, but every motion was carefully controlled.

Then finally Ronon said, "Let's see what happens next."

In one fluid movement Ronon shifted back, his mouth opening around Carson's cock, sucking him in slowly. The warm wetness offered ten times as much pressure as he'd been feeling before, but was still hopelessly gentle. Without ever pulling off, Ronon's tongue traced the crown, the vein. It pressed, stroked, and swirled. Carson wasn't sure if he could get any harder, but the whole time he felt like his body would come at any moment if it could.

Then he felt Ronon rubbing his cock against Carson's calf. All Carson could do was bend his knee a little bit to offer more contact. A little more pressure.

Ronon growled deep in his throat, and his thrusts against Carson's calf sped up. It was only then that Carson remembered the lotion and wondered how it felt now that Ronon had rubbed his cock all over with it.

Then Ronon sucked a tiny bit faster and harder, and Carson was amazed to feel himself falling over the edge. It was barely more than he'd been feeling for minutes, but Carson's neck arched and his breath caught as he came. Ronon sucked him through it.

Only when Carson was done did Ronon sit back and wrap his hand around his own cock. "Okay if I come like this?"

Carson reached his own hand forward, "Can I help?"

In a moment Ronon was closer, wrapping Carson's hand in with his own, thrusting into them both. "So good," was what Ronon said as he came.

A minute later, he was smiling down at Carson. "Okay if I sleep here?"

"More than okay," Carson answered.

Ronon cleaned up their mess and blotted off any extra lotion and sweat with the towels. Then he pulled back blankets and rearranged pillows until Carson was all tucked in and well supported. Ronon settled beside him carefully, only partially under the covers. But one large hand rested at Carson's hip with a finger pointing straight to his center, his echna. Carson felt claimed in a way he never had before.

#

As soon as Madison arrived for their office hours in the bots' meeting room, Murderbot spoke from behind a shelf of gadgets, "They've called an emergency city council meeting for tonight, to decide about the new tower and long-term medical care for those from Lo Seco."

"Hope they've all had time to read your proposal."

Murderbot came out from where they'd been working to say, "Not that I was allowed to sign it."

Madison shook their head and sighed on the way to their desk. "Requiring verified identity, on Ancient tech, is both awesome and stupid. But I thought you didn't want anyone to know for sure?"

"It's better they don't know until after they've read and thought about my work. But I wouldn't mind people knowing at some point, when it wouldn't hurt the impact of my writing." Murderbot caught up to Madison, and a couple of CatBots scurried out to take places on the viewing shelves made for them.

For a moment, Madison appreciated how quickly their office hours and working with BotKin had become routine. They felt at least as comfortable here as they had in the CS lab at Caltech. "You feel that way about the fanfic Kusanagi said she betas for you?"

"It's fine that she knows who I am as she reads it, because she doesn't judge me. I don't know if there will come a time when I can add BotKin to my profile on Ao3 and be taken seriously, but I think I would like that someday, if I could."

Madison first thought about how amazing that would be and then noticed that Murderbot wasn't saying "I think I feel." When talking about their writing, Murderbot seemed more confident of their feelings. "Would you let me read some of your fic?"

"Yes."

Madison was surprised again. They'd expected more equivocations or limitations at the very least.

Murderbot responded to the pause or to some nonverbal signal Madison must have given. "When Kusanagi shared your fic, she said that anyone who hacked or snooped on someone who might become a friend should decide ahead of time if they'd be willing to admit it and allow the other person to invade their privacy the same way. I decided before I ever met you that I'd admit the truth and share my work when asked."

Avoiding the distraction of trying to figure out their advisor's unique perspective on ethics, Madison focused on Murderbot and the question at hand. "But do you want me to read your stories?"

"I think I feel both hope that you'll like them and fear that you won't." The emotional hedging came back when talking about larger feelings that were harder to define. Then Murderbot added something that might call into doubt any apparent emotions, "I've run projections of your reactions several times as I gained more data about you. At this point, I would also learn from comparing my projections to your reactions."

Caught between interpretations, Madison wondered how much of their own curiosity was the equivalent of wanting new data to compare to past projections. "Okay, I'll try to give you my honest feedback on whatever you show me."

For the first time, they visited Archive of Our Own together.

Murderbot's alias turned out to include "secunit" and a number. Talk about hiding in plain sight. They'd posted dozens of stories, most short, but a few almost novel-length. None of them involved bots, and very few involved aliens or science fiction. Perhaps like the "Murderbot" character they'd chosen as their namesake, they preferred fiction a little more distant from their daily life.

Madison decided to read the most recent story first, a Criminal Minds AU from Spencer Reid's point of view. By the end, Madison didn't think they'd believe it was written by a bot or anyone not from Earth, if the author wasn't standing across the room watching a documentary on street art in Boston at three times broadcast speed. Madison didn't have to wait long for the show to finish.

"Murderbot?"

"Yes."

"Do you want feedback after each story or after I've read more?"

"Now is fine." Murder strode across the room to sit in their usual place by the desk. "What did you think of that one?"

"Of all the people I know, you're the only one I could imagine writing it. And yet, it's still hard for me to believe someone who's never been to Earth and never lived in a human body, could write that way. I loved the feels. I believed the angst. Maybe I would have written Spencer as differently neurodivergent, but your version worked for me and seemed in character, especially the parts about his childhood. How did you write that without having a human childhood? I know I'm biased now, but I think I would have wanted to read the rest of your work even if I'd just stumbled across this fic randomly."

"Thank you," was all Murderbot said.

Madison couldn't help but ask, "It's not listed as a remix, but did you base it off of another story or stories?"

"I based if off of everything shown in the TV show and informed by all the other fanfic I read. But I chose to write that story from that point of view, because I find Spencer Reid relatable. People underestimate him even when they know he's smarter than them, reads faster than them, and has an eidetic memory. He also makes social mistakes that everyone else can see, and sometimes his friends explain them to him. I've had similar experiences. Sometimes I wanted his friends, especially Morgan, to be more understanding and explain more fairly, so I wrote it that way."

Madison clutched the tablet close to their chest and stared into the cameras that served as Murderbot's eyes. "That's why transformative fandom exists."

#

"We heard about an emergency meeting tonight. Is there something we should know?" Healer Taran asked casually, but the others from the Lo Seco clinic were all in the room listening.

With the dialysis machine and bioartificial liver relocated for their new arrivals, Carson was now doing his dialysis in the room with the seven visiting patients and healers. The eighth bed in the room became Carson's for the time he needed those machines. To Carson, it seemed to reinforce his ties to Pegasus along with his position in the Network of Healers—as both healer and patient. While Khun Somchai was now his doctor of record on Atlantis, Healer Taran sat beside him as the machines filtered his blood.

"It could be the first step for bringing Atlantis truly into the Network of Healers," Carson said, wishing he could have this conversation sitting fully upright, and not feeling so weak with several tubes hooked up to his arm. But he was better off than some others in the room, and he didn't want to leave them without information or to make decisions on their behalf. Earthlings had already done enough of that. "I wish I could give you a tour of Atlantis first. What you've seen in the infirmary or through windows probably isn't enough."

"I hope someday to see more of this place," Taran said, "Both because it is beautiful and because it is important to you."

Others around the room nodded or murmured ascent. Carson said, "Depending on the outcome of the meeting tomorrow, you may have a chance to move to another tower. It was scheduled to open for new residents within a few days anyway, but there's been a bit of a stir around a proposal to run this new tower differently. Each floor would decide its own rules on some issues, everyone in the tower would coordinate on others, and the city council would only have a say on larger matters. How that will work is mostly spelled out in the proposal, which I'm sure is available as audio if you want to listen to the whole thing. The part that affects you is that you might be given a floor, from the very start. So long as one or more from this initial group remained in residence, you could continue to offer rooms to patients for long term recovery or to healers who came here to study. We might be able to set up these machines"—Carson gestured to the two filtering his blood and a few others in the room—"And some physical therapy equipment in that tower as well."

"The way you use 'floor' does not make sense in my language," Lansol, the other patient who needed a new liver, ventured after a click to draw attention.

"Sorry, I should have explained better." Carson felt much too tired to explain, so he asked Hanso, who had been monitoring the medical equipment as if it didn't have enough alert and safety features of its own, "Hanso, could you explain about towers and floors and the size of Atlantis?"

"While I am allowed in this medical area, I am not allowed to train with our visitors," Hanso answered.

Carson closed his eyes and bit back a few choice words he almost never said aloud. "Can we ask them to join the training list as Ronon did?"

"The standard for informed consent from visitors is higher, as it was with the inoculations."

"Don't all these restrictions interfere with doing your work?"

"Without them I would not be allowed to work at all."

Swallowing hard, Carson didn't know if he wanted to cry or curse. "Oh, Hanso. Don't you mind at all? Do you know what you want for yourself?"

The three tiny lights below Hanso's camera lit up and seemed to stay on for longer than usual. "I want to work. Sometimes I want to do certain work at certain times. Other BotKin can want more. I do not want to make more decisions or explain more."

Carson was no expert with bots, but the desire not to explain or decide any more was familiar and sounded like what Hanso most wanted. Carson was also suddenly aware of Taran and a couple of others watching intently. "Fair enough. Thank you for explaining. Could you pull up a tower schematic on a tablet and then go explain this situation to Dr. Biro. See if she can help?"

Hanso flashed three lights and handed Carson a tablet with a cut out view of the main tower selected.

"Thank you," Carson said as the bot left. Then to the others in the room, he said, "Please pass this around and I'll try to explain."

Taran took the tablet but said, "If you're too tired right now, we can wait. You are a patient too, at the moment."

"We've started, and this is important. Let's see how far we can get." Carson began, "That shows you the tower we're in right now as if it were cut open through the center. It is the largest tower on Atlantis, and for a long time it was the only one we had time to clean and make ready for use. There are over seventy floors in this tower alone, and the entire population of Lo Seco could easily live here. This infirmary is on the floor marked in bright yellow. Many people also live and work on this floor. So a floor in this case means all the rooms on one level of the tower. We can walk to all rooms on this floor without going up or down. Does that make sense?"

"That explains why your medical center is so large," Healer Follaz said as the tablet reached him. "But why move us and this medical equipment to another tower?"

"I don't think anyone would force you to move, not unless there was a huge outbreak or catastrophe that required all the space in this infirmary." Carson tried to guess what most needed to be explained. "Because I, as a healer, already had a room near this infirmary, I was able to move back there after a few days in here. That mattered to me, and I think most people here believe that those staying more a than a few days would rather not be in the infirmary if they don't have to be. It was mostly luck that you arrived when a new tower was about to open up. It is a much smaller tower than this, only twenty floors, with room for ten to twenty people on each floor, who would share an area for cooking and socializing. I hope to move there, to the top floor, with a group of people who are like family to me. Do you think it would be a good idea to have a floor run by our Network of Healers? Do you think you'd like to live there for a while?"

Taran was the first to speak. "There is something I need to know first, Healer Carson, if it is not too personal."

Taking a deep breath with his eyes closed, Carson wondered what she wanted to know. "Please ask," he said, opening his eyes to meet hers.

"Why didn't you want to come back here?"

Carson coughed out something like a laugh. He'd been asked the same questions by his psychologist, Khun Somchai, and Ronon. But Taran asked as an outsider, trying to understand unknown risks to herself and her patients. "I am embarrassed to admit it, but I thought I was dying, and I didn't want to argue with those who treat me like family about end of life decisions." He thought about going into stasis before, not expecting Dr. Keller or anyone else to find a cure for his deterioration as a clone. Not knowing if he would ever be taken out, or if he'd be called upon one last time for information and then die, either among friends or future strangers. He hadn't wanted to face that again. While he knew how to write an end of life medical care directive, he knew Rodney at least would have begged him to go into stasis until they could find a cure. Carson had been a coward and wanted to die a respected healer and be done with it all.

"I can understand that," Danisius said, and her sister beside her nodded along. "Pilialim and I would be happy to spend our time wherever is easiest for the healers. But we are happy to move to the new tower if that might help establish a healing center here."

Taran still had questions. "Neither you nor anyone here knew you had a cure and vaccine already available to fight the Bad Blood? You didn't even guess when you became ill?"

"I'm sorry, Taran." Carson offered her his free hand and she took it. "I am talking to a healer here who deals with unhealthy thinking about what was going on in my head. But it is also hard to explain how far away the people who found that cure are and how unlikely it was. Once the Lanteans realized they could save people here, besides me, Dr. Biro worked hard to make sure it was safe, and no one tried to stop her from bringing what she had to you. I've made a lot of mistakes in the past, as have others here, but I still believe we can do good work. If the Network of Healers is permanently represented on Atlantis, I believe we can do better."

"Then I would like to stay for a while and help if I can," Healer Taran said.

"As would I," Healer Follaz agreed.

"I would appreciate a less medical place, if possible," Lansol said. The other two patients quickly agreed. Everything was pretty much settled before Dr. Biro showed up with Hanso.

While Biro went around the room explaining about the BotKin, Carson closed his eyes and finally managed to relax. He couldn't sleep because he was too amused listening to Biro answer everyone's questions not just about BotKin and the new tower proposal, but about Atlantis in general and their medical practices in particular. When they found out that Biro, in addition to being a healer and an elder, was a member of the city council, Carson thought she was probably more esteemed than him. He was more than fine with that.

Nonetheless, Taran stayed by his side and kept hold of his hand for the remainder of his treatment. By the time Carson was ready to leave the infirmary, Biro had detailed informed consent statements allowing each of their visitors to interact with the BotKin in general and also as part of the new tower proposal.

#

It turned out city council meetings on alien flying cities were as boring as any meetings Madison had ever felt obliged to attend. Lieutenant Colonel Lorne was introduced as the council secretary and took them through the most boring parts, the reading of minutes and resolutions that needed no actions to be taken at this time. Madison was sure it would be more interesting with Murderbot providing commentary, but bots weren't allowed in the public meeting room and since the meetings were recorded and available as a matter of public record, Murderbot hadn't set up an open radio connection like they'd used during the birthday party.

At first Madison tried to listen, but soon they reverted to counting the tiles in a wall mosaic (436 across by 180 high). It wasn't like any other art they'd seen on Atlantis, with some tiles resembling broken bits of pottery and others carefully painted stone or wood. There was no picture or overall pattern involved, but the arrangement of colors was pleasing, and Madison assumed the materials carried added significance to the artists involved. The entire wall-sized work was immaculately polished and the grout between the tiles scrubbed spotless—and by the time Madison got around to speculating on who cleaned the mosaic, they'd completely lost track of whatever Lorne was saying.

That's when Madison pulled out their tablet and gave in to reading more of Murderbot's fanfic until Dr. Cirillo, introduced as the council chairperson and Atlantis Expedition leader, opened up the floor for public comment. Madison was gratified to hear two early comments reference the proposal for a "Community Led Tower" that Carson, Kusanagi, Ronon, and Madison had officially authored. They wondered if either of those comments came from gamers who'd messaged Murderbot saying they'd support the proposal at the meeting.

Of course, the listed authors had all read and helped with parts, but the main author, Murderbot, went without credit because bots couldn't have verified identities and signatures in the Ancient systems the city used for such documents. Madison was annoyed about that and wanted Murderbot to receive credit as soon as possible, but they'd all agreed gaining BotKin rights within the new tower was a more important fight.

Madison had been so caught up in their own thoughts that they missed whatever comment caused Carson to raise his hand. He was chosen immediately to speak, and Madison wondered if his history on Atlantis or his place up front influenced that. Whatever forces were at play, the room grew unexpectedly silent as Carson was passed the microphone.

"After several years away from Atlantis," Carson began, his voice slow and measured, "It's wonderful to return and find twice as many scientists working here. To see the South Pier alive with children and gardens. To see our local Gate team liaisons rising through the ranks and a new program allowing grad students from Earth to study and work here. Atlantis has a great deal to offer. We all have a great deal to gain.

"The people that someone referred to as 'medical refugees' are more than that term implies. Certainly they are people we can help. But have any of you asked what perspectives, skills, or knowledge they might bring to our community? They also brought two healers from the Network of Healers that I've been working with for years and who are now sponsoring new clinical trials and possibly an organ donor network with Dr. Biro. With 85 percent of the buildings on Atlantis still unused or underutilized, we're in an ideal position to function as a teaching hospital or at least another medical center within the Network of Healers. If some of the healers or patients involved could live in the new tower, I believe they would benefit Atlantis as much as we might benefit them. I would also be happy to remain on Atlantis in whatever capacity is necessary to facilitate such a program." When the room stayed silent around him, Carson smiled and said, "Thank you for listening."

Kusanagi raised her hand in the stillness and was recognized next. "I hope I speak for many here when I say it would be an honor to have Dr. Carson serving on Atlantis once again and we are very glad to have him back." There was applause, which there had not been before, and Kusanagi smiled and nodded to Carson but did not relinquish the microphone. "I would also mention that Carson has been assisted since his return by one of the BotKin, MedBot 3, also known as Hanso. Hanso was not able to accompany Carson tonight because of the current restrictions on bots in most public spaces. Perhaps this is a moment to remember that bots, especially the very advanced BotKin, can be a critical part of our community as well. They could assist with Carson's teaching hospital program as well as throughout the new tower. There is a basement room in that tower designed with bot access in mind to be a fungus farm, and one of the BotKin, H511, has already asked me how they could apply to work there. I humbly ask the city council to consider what these and other bots offer to our community with the opening of this new tower."

The entreaty in her speech was so unlike what Madison was used to hearing from Kusanagi, that they wondered if their advisor treated this as role playing in a larger game. Several hands shot up around the room, including that of the ponytailed scientist who hadn't liked Madison bringing a bot to the hallway where they lived. Sure enough, there were plenty of concerns and fears about bots included with the next few comments:

"They're recording all the time, even when they're not allowed to share it."

"The only reason the BotKin aren't filling half the science and maintenance jobs is because no one can force them to work on anything and the Ancients put in safeguards to slow them down. Otherwise, they're smarter and learn faster than any of us."

"Get over yourself. Declassification is a greater threat to your job. Plenty of scientists on Earth learn faster than you. The bots do a lot of work humans don't want or can't safely do." Madison actually had to check that the person saying that wasn't their uncle, but he probably would have been snarkier and spoken longer.

"The BotKin program was already halted once due to safety concerns. There could be a robot revolution any day. It only makes sense to limit them in any way we can." Madison found their hands clenching into fists at that stupidity. But they didn't think they could speak in any helpful way at such a meeting.

"Revolutions have reasons. Most of the BotKin work all the time and that's all they want. If one of them wants to grow mushrooms and another wants to help patients in the new tower, isn't that a win for both bots and humans?"

"BotKin aren't safe and never will be. They think and make decisions in ways we can't understand and could kill any of us in a minute."

"True of me too." Ronon said it without needing a microphone or to rise from Carson's side. With that one brief comment, he plunged the room into silence again.

Madison counted the seconds until someone dressed in smoothly spun cloth in dark blues and greens, stood up and was given the microphone. "Atlantis is my home now. As is Pegasus. We embrace a time of prosperity. A chance to build together. If 85 percent of Atlantis is unused, let those with ideas try. Let each person show what they can do, whether they come to us as a Runner, a BotKin, a patient, or a healer."

The discussion after that became more mundane. People expressed concerns about one tower having a different decision-making model than others or better access to 24-hour medical care. Several people thought there was too much of a rush to change rules for this tower and the current set of medical refugees, a term that was contested again. By the time public comments wound down, Madison was tense from too much time in an emotionally charged crowd and not at all sure how the council would vote.

They were a bit surprised when the vote was immediate, public, and spoken aloud. There seemed to be some predetermined order to who voted that Madison didn't understand. Cirillo went first, and voted to maintain the status quo. Biro went next, and voted for the new proposal. Lorne voted for the status quo, but proposed forming a committee to consider future options. Then all eyes turned to Teyla, suggesting she was next.

Teyla sat silent and still until the entire room grew quiet around her. "It is my understanding that this council may make no decision until all parties involved have been given a chance to speak." Cirillo nodded, forehead wrinkled in concern. Lorne on the other hand, set his jaw and looked prepared for a dressing down. "Surely the BotKin have been unjustly excluded from our meeting. I would also like to know if the new healers or those in their care were offered access and if they wish to contribute."

"You wish to delay voting on this matter until our next meeting?" Cirillo asked.

"As this is officially an emergency meeting, I ask instead for a one-hour recess and the issuing of an explicit invitation for those parties to join us here or provide authenticated video testimony."

Biro offered, "I can arrange for authenticated video from the infirmary, but BotKin are not eligible for such authentication."

"Then we must allow them here," Teyla said with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Agreed," Biro said, and the rest of the city council echoed her.

Madison rose from their seat, frantic to see how the BotKin would react to this development. They were halfway to the transporter when they realized it was after 8 PM, and they weren't allowed in the BotKin meeting room.

#

Rodney spent the hour-long recess caffeinating and eating. Both John and Biro had told him the best way he could help with the new tower proposal and securing one of those new rooms for himself was to attend the city council meeting but stay silent. They would never appreciate what a sacrifice that was for him. People spouted stupid all over the place. He wanted to complain about the hours he worked and threaten to stop safeguarding their power, water, and data supplies whenever they fussed about BotKin threatening their jobs. He wanted to argue for Data and the other CatBots having access to the new tower and being better people than most of the humans at the meeting. He wanted to distract himself and John with plans for the new toys he'd designed.

But the toys were supposed to be a surprise. And even Rodney knew saying or doing any of that at the meeting wouldn't help in any way. He just wished it could all be over already.

Rodney took the last brownie to go with his fresh cup of coffee before making his way back to his seat.

#

Ronon and Biro had conspired to make Carson rest during the hour-long recess. While he would have liked to speak with Healer Taran again before they all decided on whatever video comments they'd like to make, he knew that was partly his desire to influence what they would say. That wasn't the role he'd chosen when he joined the Network of Healers. He and the other founders had chosen to be equals with each new member, not to put themselves or anyone else above the others.

Now, as Carson made his way back to the city council meeting, Hanso pushed his chair. Ronon had split off to collect snacks that someone had provided during the recess, and Carson wasn't surprised to see him returning with two plates stacked with fruits, vegetables, and cheese.

For a moment, Carson wished the space for his wheelchair wasn't so visible at the front of the room. He'd never liked eating in public without a table. But he knew he needed to eat more, and while he'd rather have gone to sleep early or at least taken Ronon to bed one way or another, he wouldn't have slept well without hearing the council's decision. Besides, it might help for people to see him there between Ronon and Hanso, and they both cared as least as much as he did about the council's decision.

The presentation began with authenticated video from the infirmary. Two patients had chosen to speak. Both expressed their gratitude to the people of Atlantis for helping them and others. Then they both volunteered several ways they hoped to contribute to the community on Atlantis, regardless of how long they stayed or where they were allowed to live.

Then Healer Taran was shown. She spoke mostly about the Network of Healers and how even those communities who seemed to have the weakest medical systems had brought forward medicines and ideas that had benefited others. She concluded by saying, "I know that Healer Carson does not see himself as a leader among us, and that modesty does both him and Atlantis credit. In years past, there were those who blamed Lanteans for waking more Wraith or disrupting trade agreements. Through hard work and dedication, Healer Carson has demonstrated the true potential of your people if you can find a place with our communities. If Healer Carson's recent illness makes it harder for him to travel, then honoring him with a clinic as part of the larger network he helped build seems only fitting. I am one among many who would be honored to come here to consult, learn, teach, and most importantly, continue forward in friendship with both Healer Carson and the people of Atlantis."

Carson quietly wiped a tear from his eye, embarrassed at how Taran framed the clinic as a way of honoring him. Ronon lay a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. The touch gave Carson strength to sit and smile appreciatively, the best he could do both personally and politically.

"That's all from the infirmary," Dr. Biro said. "Any BotKin present are now welcome to speak."

Without any visible signals between them, Hanso rolled forward first. "I am MedBot 3, also known as Hanso. I am currently occupied assisting Dr. Beckett with his recovery and both Drs. Biro and Beckett with research. I am pleased with my current work and do not intend to take anyone else's job. I can already identify enough work not being done by others to keep me busy for over 100 years. Improved access would improve the effectiveness of my work. Thank you."

When Hanso rolled back, Carson whispered, "Nicely said."

Three lights blinked.

The next bot to speak was twice Hanso's size and began with, "I am H511. I speak today for the H series BotKin and the CatBots. We do not want anyone else's jobs. Every building on Atlantis was designed with our work preferences in mind. We request access to do the work we were designed to do. I would like to tend the basement mushroom farm and the roof garden in the new tower, among other tasks. The CatBots were also designed to monitor and improve the medical and emotional health of people. They ask for better access to those who request their help."

The last bot to speak was Murderbot, who hesitated, much the way a shy human would. "I did not want to speak, but both BotKin and BioKin convinced me I should. I gave up my original designation for my chosen name, Murderbot." There were whispers around the room, but somehow no one shouted out. "If some of you need an explanation, I named myself after a fictional character written by a human named Martha Wells. At the end of the fourth book in the Murderbot series, a human friend asks Murderbot to consider making their story public to help those fighting for bots and others rights."

"It's a slippery slope!" Someone in the audience shouted. Carson could not see who. "How long before they demand a seat on the city council or take control of Atlantis for themselves?"

"Out of order," Lorne spoke calmly into a microphone. "It is Murderbot's turn to speak, and I remind everyone that this and all city council meetings are recorded."

"We have a right to meet without them. I did not opt in to work with bots." That was a different voice.

"The next person to speak out of turn will be removed from this meeting," Lorne announced.

"The BotKin are not asking to work with anyone who does not opt in to work with us. We have no wish to interfere in decisions that do not affect us. All we are asking is for freedom to work and learn in more areas of Atlantis, areas that were designed for BotKin to access, and to do work for which BotKin are especially well suited."

At that Cirillo motioned to be recognized and then tapped his mic. "While I appreciate seeing work done efficiently, the proposal for the new tower suggests BotKin could have the same rights to access, decision making, and residency as BioKin"—he cleared his throat pointedly— "the term used for humans in this proposal. The request for such rights as well as representation at this meeting suggests we're being asked to recognize more than the work BotKin do. What kind of recognition are you trying to claim?"

Open metal components shifted downward in Murderbot the way human shoulders would slouch. A chin that existed only as the bottom point of a triangle, lowered and then raised. "I think you already know. While I am not eligible for a verified identity, I wrote most of the proposal under discussion. I coined the term BioKin."

The room burst into discussion, some of it bordering on shouting, including phrases like "What?" and "I knew it!" and a surprisingly clear "Skynet!"

Lorne called for order.

When the room quieted, Murderbot continued, "As with my namesake, I have given away pieces of myself to others all along, as you may realize humans do, too. Today, I've agreed to give away one more. Like Martha Wells, I choose for part of my work to be writing fiction. She writes about bots. I write about humans. Dr. Kusanagi can help those interested to find several of the novels and stories I have previously published online, along with data she compiled to rate my works' originality and to show statistically that my stories were not plagiarized or remixed based on any detectable patterns. You can check if you need to, but I'd rather those who could, try to enjoy the stories first. I don't claim to be a great writer, but I have chosen this work as any other person would, as a person writing about people. I will read a small sample now:

" Spencer picked up the paper and read the entire paragraph to his teacher. It explained about the Millikan Gifted Magnet School and setting up appointments for intelligence testing on Thursday when the district psychologist would be visiting. All Spencer knew about intelligence testing was what his mother quoted from F. Scott Fitzgerald: 'The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.' Spencer often functioned with two opposed ideas in his mind, like thinking his teacher must have seen enough to realize he was being bullied and thinking her reaction demonstrated she had not understood at all. Confusing as the two thoughts were, Spencer was able to read for his teacher and answer her questions, so he thought he should be able to pass the intelligence test for the magnet school."

The room was silent as Murderbot went to sit on an ordinary chair in the audience. A few scientists were nodding along and a couple of Athosians were listening to a whispered explanation from the person next to them, who Carson guessed as Earth military by his haircut. Then someone began to clap and others joined in.

When the brief applause ended, Teyla announced, "I am ready to cast my vote. I vote in favor of the new proposal, including community led decision-making and bot access for the new tower."

Dr. Khosa spoke next, "I also vote in favor of the proposal."

Cirillo said stiffly, "Any addendums or alterations from the previous vote?"

Lorne said with a barely concealed smile, "I'd like to change my vote to support the new proposal and modify my suggested committee to look into improving access for bots and humans to the new tower and connecting piers. For the study period, I suggest we open the South and Southwest Piers to BotKin." He added as an aside, "Since they'll be moving in and all."

Cirillo responded, "Noted and tentatively agreed." After looking to each member or the council once more he said, "The proposal for the new tower is accepted as written. Those specified in the proposal may begin moving in tomorrow. Movement of patients and infirmary supplies will be at the discretion of Dr. Srisuk. Meeting adjourned."

#

That night, Rodney had two attachments ready to test. He'd invited John over to see a movie after the council meeting, but John barely waited for the door to close before greeting him with an enthusiastic kiss.

"Does that mean you don't want to watch a movie?" Rodney asked.

"I'm happy to start with a movie." John slid a hand down to stroke Rodney's ass.

"Or would you rather hear about the added features I designed for our vibrating toy? Or maybe both?" Rodney tugged John over to the bed where he could view the inert forms of Rodney's latest creations: one cup shaped and the other like a string of beads. Both metallic and shiny.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." John looked but didn't touch. "I thought you were up to something nefarious during that meeting on Lo Seco."

"I prefer to think of my work as depraved. It's really just cosplay for sex toys." Rodney lifted one of the two covers he'd made from an Ancient material with properties similar to memory metal but more programable. "This one is like a winter coat for our little ball of fun." He collected their vibrating toy from the drawer by his bed and noticed John was tracking his every move. Rodney slid the string for removing the sex toy through a hole in the larger, cup shape. When the ball seated in place, the Ancient metal reshaped itself to cover the original toy.

"So it's a little larger," John stated the obvious, as he was sadly prone to do.

Rodney couldn't help but smile. "That's only the first programmed change, when it comes into contact with the toy. Watch what each change in the vibration of the ball does to its fancy coat." Rodney put the covered ball in one of John's hands and the remote in the other.

With only a small lift of his eyebrows, John turned the toy on. At the first mild vibrations, the Ancient metal became bumpy, twenty-four tiny half spheres poking out from the original, all carrying vibrations. When John switched the toy to pulsing, a set of four small bumps merged into a larger bump with each pulse. "Will we be able to feel that?" John asked, his thumb stroking the surface reverently.

"Even better. The shape change will cause the ball to shift position with each pulse. The effect may seem a bit random from outside, but you'll definitely feel it." Rodney wrapped John's hand more tightly around the toy, wanting him to imagine it clearly. "On the next two settings, it shifts according to those pulse patterns."

"And on the high setting?" John flicked through, probably guessing the answer. Instead of twenty-four small lumps, the toy now had six large protrusions, doubling its diameter at the widest points and adding a great deal of vibrating surface area. "That's gonna feel like a lot."

"And almost certainly rub against something sensitive."

John pressed forward to kiss Rodney, not at all accidentally trapping the toy between them so it vibrated against Rodney right nipple. Rodney plunged his tongue into John's mouth and let the kiss deepen. Then he pulled away and said as sweetly as he could, "Don't you want to learn about my other creation?"

Pulling back a few inches, John turned the toy off. The cover became smooth but couldn't be removed until Rodney snapped it several times with a fingernail. "I didn't want any chance of it detaching while still inside someone."

Then Rodney picked up the cover that looked like a string of beads and asked, "You ever played with something like this?"

John shook his head.

Rodney threaded the string of the toy through the hollow half bead at the front, which sealed on contact much as the previous toy had. "Even without vibration, a string of beads like this can fill a person up and shift in interesting ways as someone changes positions. As a grad student working alone in lab at night, I once challenged myself to finish assembling a pulley system without taking a string of beads out or masturbating."

"Did you succeed?"

"Of course," Rodney preened. "But it took me twenty minutes to do what should have taken ten. I was hard as graphene the whole time, and some of the ways I had to stretch and twist almost had me coming in my pants."

"And these vibrate? Won't that be overwhelming?"

"The whole set only vibrates on the top setting. On the lowest setting, it's only the original toy really vibrating, except for what naturally transmits through the metal to the others. On the two simple pulse settings, different balls will actively vibrate in turn. And on the alternating high and low pulse setting, half of them will be active on the high part and only one plus the original on the low setting."

"I'd be happy to try that one out on you and just watch."

"As you wish." From the look on John's face, he caught the obvious reference, but rather than make something of it he said, "Now?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." In fact, Rodney had washed thoroughly and done a little prep himself. He had spent a couple of years charting and predicted what sort of sex John enjoyed. Even if their relationship had taken an unexpected turn in other ways, he hadn't expected John to volunteer for this toy first. Of course, Rodney could have built or traded for a second vibrating toy, but he wanted to have his full attention on John when he tried one of Rodney's creations. So for now, they'd take turns with the toys.

After John pulled Rodney's shirt off, he also removed his own. Rodney smiled and reached out to unfasten John's pants while John unfastened his. Having both of them naked with lots of bare skin to share sensations certainly appealed to Rodney.

John probably knew that about him.

When they lay down on the bed, John prepped him carefully, stoking Rodney's inner thigh with his clean hand as he lubed him up good and slippery with the other.

"I'm ready." Rodney wanted the experience to last a while, but John's attention combined with anticipation had Rodney hard and overeager already. "Start with the smallest ball on the end farthest from the string."

That ball went in easily after John's careful prep, but by the third ball, Rodney was starting to feel it, both inside and at his rim. "Do you need a minute?" John asked when Rodney bit back a moan.

"I don't know if I can hold out for the whole thing tonight."

"Think of it like your pully experiment. You wouldn't want to give in until you meet all your goals, would you?"

John definitely knew him well in some ways. Nonetheless, John took his time and only stroked Rodney's thigh and belly in a mostly soothing manner as he pushed in the next bead. And the next. Then his hand on Rodney's abdomen stilled and pressed just a little. "I can feel them inside you." Rodney pushed into the touch. John gave an easy smiled and said, "That is so hot."

John pressed again and Rodney groaned as the beads shifted and rubbed his prostate. Just like a good scientist would, John repeated his pressing motion a couple more times, watching the effect it had on Rodney. A drop of precum splashed from Rodney's red and angry erection. "Please," Rodney begged.

Another bead pressed inside, but John mercifully stopped helping them toward that spot. One more bead stretched Rodney's hole, and he thought that was all of them, but wasn't even sure of his counting anymore.

Then the vibration started and Rodney cried out. He was so full and suddenly he was shivering everywhere. It wasn't just the vibrations inside, Rodney thought he might explode.

A hand rested on his forehead. His eyes had closed again without Rodney realizing. He opened them to stare at John. The flecks of green in John's eyes were barely visible around wide pupils. The soft look of attention John gave him grounded Rodney as much as the palm on his forehead. When John ran his fingernails through Rodney's hair, his spine arched automatically and the vibrating mass inside him shifted. Rodney screamed again, but this time he was only overwhelmed in a good way.

He reached out to run a hand down John's chest, slightly furry. His abs, enviably hard. The slight trail of hair that led to John's erection. He was fully erect, maybe not as far along as Rodney, but he'd been totally getting off on this before Rodney even touched him. "Like what you see?" Rodney managed.

"So much. And knowing you designed the tech that lets me take you apart is even better."

Before Rodney could come up with a snarky reply, John switched the toy to sudden bursts of vibration, and even though Rodney knew only a couple of the balls inside him were actually vibrating, the changes in vibration and position every second were too chaotic to predict, too rapid for him to adjust. His eyes slid closed and Rodney couldn't focus on anything except the pulses inside him. Bursts of pleasure. Motion that felt like something huge plundering him, pulling him apart. His balls were tightening up. The slightest press on his cock would make him come in seconds. But Rodney tried to hang on, wanted to see how much his body could take, needed to experience the whole thing.

Eventually, even the constant, sudden sensory bursts settled into something known. Rodney became aware that he was making small keening noises with each exhale. John's fingers were still in his hair, rubbing more gently now. "You back with me?" John asked.

Rodney realized his hand was still on John's cock, holding on. He hoped he hadn't squeezed too tightly in his distraction. He guessed that the hot leaking state of John's erection meant he'd enjoyed whatever reactions Rodney's body had displayed while Rodney's attention was focused inward.

"Rodney, can you answer?" John asked.

Barely able to process the words or that he must not have answered the first time, Rodney managed to nod.

"Then you're ready for more." It wasn't really a question. John changed the pattern of vibrations. While the three second bursts were hard to even breathe through when one of the vibrating balls was on or near his prostate, that was only one third of the time. Rodney had a chance to regroup and anticipate each round.

Then the pattern switched to half the beads vibrating between each round of only two. Rodney could barely catch his breath most times, found himself gasping after who knew how long. "Easy Rodney, only one more setting after this."

But Rodney was losing it. He could barely take in enough air. The vibrations inside were shaking his tight balls and hard cock enough that he wasn't sure he needed external pressure anymore.

When John switched the toy to the final setting, Rodney's whole body seemed to vibrate in time. He was completely full of shifting, vibrating pleasure and it exploded out of him the only way it could. A spurt of hot come splashed all the way up to Rodney chest. John's finger pressed wet against Rodney's left nipple, smearing the come that had landed nearby. Rodney arched into the touch, shaking, coming apart and coming hard.

Then John's hand was slick against Rodney's cock, pulling every last drop out of him. The vibrations inside only stopped when Rodney couldn't come anymore. Now he was empty and full and exhausted and didn't think he could deal with any of it himself.

"I'll pull the toy out as gently as I can, just take a breath." John's voice was rough as if he'd come as well. Rodney hoped so, because he didn't know where his own hands were anymore. His whole body was shaken and still shaking. After he took a deep breath, the first ball was tugged out. Rodney whimpered, but each ball after that was smaller. He felt extremely stretched and relaxed. Not wanting to open his eyes, he trusted John to take care of whatever needed doing.

At some point, he felt wet wipes cleaning his skin. A sheet covered him, sending waves of pleasure across all of his skin. He was still vibrating a little. Like he was high. John shifted beneath him until Rodney was lying half in John's lap.

For a long time, Rodney drifted between sleep and an over-awareness of his own skin. When he woke for real, the scent of sex was all around him, but John was stroking his side chastely, from the other side of the sheet. His head was resting on John's lap, and of all things, John was watching "The Princess Bride" on Rodney's laptop.

"You great, big dork," Rodney teased, finding his throat unexpected dry and hoarse. John passed him the water bottle Rodney kept by his bed. He sat up a little to drink and leaned against John's side.

It wasn't until he set the water aside that John paused the movie and turned to him very seriously. Running fingers along each side of Rodney's face and down his neck, John said, "I love you."

There was nothing Rodney could do. He leaned in and kissed the dork. Then he pulled back enough to say, "I love you, too." It came out a little less serious sounding, because Rodney couldn't help smiling far too wide. After all, he was a total dork, too.

John surprised him by continuing, "I never expected to get this far in a relationship. While I'm uncomfortable with how some of it happened, I can't condemn the part on Terangine, because I don't see any other path to get us here. I'm happy. I don't even mind being 50. The Terangines can keep that one memory, because I'd rather have this."

Rodney kissed him again. At first he was tender, working through his own emotional backlog after a few intense days. Then John started to get silly, making sloppy noises or sucking on his lower lip.

After a while Rodney pulled back and asked John, "Do you want to watch the rest of your movie?"

"If you're not too tired, I keep wondering what that other toy would feel like inside me, if I was trying to watch a movie."

Rodney checked the screen. There were only about twenty minutes left. He checked in with his body, and while he might not come again anytime soon, waking up to emotional declarations appeared to be a turn on for him. As was John asking for a toy Rodney had designed.

"Sounds great."

They didn't restart the movie until John was well prepped and the toy positioned inside. By that point there had been enough teasing and flirting that Rodney was half hard again despite himself.

"Do you want me to start the toy or the movie first?" Rodney asked.

"The toy, so we can both appreciate your handiwork without distraction."

Rodney switched it on and watched John hum in pleasure. "Oh yeah, that's much better than the original version." When Rodney placed his hand on John's lower abdomen and rubbed a bit, John gasped. "Okay, that's—" John seemed at a loss for words.

"Maybe we'll save that experiment for another time." He shifted his hand to rest high on John's thigh instead. "We have a movie to watch."

Naturally, Rodney watched the reflection of John on the screen more than he watched the movie. As soon as John seemed to really be paying attention, Rodney switched the ball to the next pattern. He could tell instantly that the fast pulses with the ball shifting toward one suddenly larger protrusion or another were a winner. John's eyes went wide and his mouth fell open.

Rodney ran two fingers along his lower lip and John sucked them in. After a few sucks that seemed to actually calm John down a bit, Rodney pulled out his wet finger and used them to squeeze and rub John's right nipple. Normally John wasn't as sensitive there as Rodney was, but now he wriggled, which clearly shifted the ball inside on a new trajectory, and Rodney had to catch the laptop and move it further down the bed. He paused the screen as he took a couple minutes to play with John's newly sensitive nipples and watch the man writhe.

As John finally calmed down, Rodney said, "I had to pause the movie. Do you think you're up to watching a bit more now?"

John bucked up into the sheet and then repeated the motion as if just realizing he could get friction on his cock that way.

"No cheating," Rodney declared as he pulled back the sheets, leaving them both naked as he restarted the movie. John sat back smiling, only adjusting his ass a little with each burst of motion from the toy inside him.

Rodney waited until John had settled into that rhythm and was at least looking at the movie before he took the toy to the next pattern, the longer pulses that Rodney had found a bit more predictable with the other version of the toy. The motions of John's hips slowed at first. Then one combination must have hit very close to home, because John closed his eyes and his face went lax in pleasure. Three seconds later he opened his eyes, glanced at Rodney with a smile, and then looked back at the laptop screen.

Fifteen seconds later, the toy must have affected close enough the same location, because John's eyes closed again. Rodney watched cycle after cycle, wondering if the toy would shift out of position or John's body would stop responding to a sensation that was predictable, but only happened every sixth turn. Rodney watched for eighteen minutes until the movie ended. The cycle repeated sixty times. For three seconds each cycle John closed his eyes. If anything, he was enjoying those three seconds more by the end. His cock had started to leak a little precum the last couple times.

"You stopped squirming," Rodney said as he set the laptop aside.

"I didn't want to risk shifting the toy. Besides, you let me make it through the movie."

"You were too much fun to watch."

"That all you want to do? I was thinking you might want to sit on my lap for the last couple patterns."

"You think I'll be able to feel the vibrations?"

"I think I'd like to feel your cock next to mine."

Rodney straddled John, placing their cocks side by side, but not applying any pressure yet.

"So good," John said, eyes closing for longer than three seconds. Rodney pushed the toy to the next pattern and sure enough, he could feel the stronger vibrations right through John. If he leaned forward, he could feel the weaker half of that cycle. That also meant he was adding pressure to John's cock and the toy during what would have been the less stimulating portion.

"Oh, god. I could come like this. I don't know if the next part could be any better. Don't stop."

Rodney had no intention of stopping. He gave John a minute to enjoy Rodney playing his part along with the toy before he said, "You have to at least try the final setting. If you decide this is better, we'll come back to it."

"Okay," John's eyes were still closed and he was breathing hard. He might have agreed to anything in that moment.

Rodney took the toy to the final sustained vibrations setting. He could very much feel John vibrating under him. Their cocks were grazing each other, but Rodney didn't lean forward. He watched John pant his way through it, barely able to shift his ass into or away from sensation with Rodney firmly planted in his lap.

When John seemed to have some control of his body, Rodney leaned forward and kissed him. It was mostly Rodney licking into John's mouth as John panted. Their cocks were pressed between them, and plenty of other skin was slipping and vibrating together. "You want to come like this John, or go back to the previous setting?"

"Previous," John said.

"Okay, but I have to cycle through all the others to get there." Rodney stayed pressed in close as he took John through each of the previous settings, letting each run for at least half a minute as he watched and felt John experiencing it. Not only could Rodney feel all the vibrations through John's body, but their cocks were rubbing together, slick with sweat and precum. Rodney didn't know how John was holding out, but he loved the show, and he was more than ready to come again with John.

Finally, when they were back at the three seconds of stronger and three seconds of weaker vibration John had preferred, Rodney returned to his rhythm of pressing forward only on the weaker part of the pattern.

"Hand," John said, totally strung out on sensation but able to say that clearly enough.

Rodney wrapped his hand around both of their cocks and gave a few lazy, loose strokes that didn't match the pattern of vibrations at all. John bucked up into his hand anyway. Perhaps John couldn't help but thrust in rhythm with the vibrations, but after a few repetitions, he was doing it double time. The muscles on his body stood out, shiny with sweat, and Rodney couldn't help being impressed that his lover still had so much stamina. Tightening his grip just a little and adding a twist at the end of each stroke, Rodney sent them both over the edge and all the way through.

Then he turned the toy off and pulled it out before John could mind. Rodney even managed a hasty clean up with the sheet before he covered them both and feel asleep beside a blissfully dozing John.

#

When Madison showed up for office hours the next morning, they found Murderbot packing a box. "Hi, Madison. Should we move after your office hours or have our housemates specified a time?"

"No one spoke to me at breakfast. I can check messages." Madison had noticed a few odd looks cast their way as they filled their tray that morning, but they had been thinking more about the meeting last night than about moving today. Suddenly Madison felt a lot less awake and not at all prepared to deal with another big event.

Then someone with a large, loud voice called from the door, "Hello, do we just walk in?" Then they walked in. "Hi, I'm Lauren Ng. Pluto said I should ask you about moving into the new tower?"

"Me?" Madison sank into their desk chair. Lauren was small compared to her voice, but still bigger than Madison, with a swirl of complicated braids piled up even higher. Watching the way Lauren assessed the room suggested it could use improvement. "I don't know if there's any plan for that yet."

"Pluto meant Murderbot." Lauren moved over to where Murderbot was packing. "You're the one who mostly wrote the proposal, right?"

"Yes." Murderbot spoke while neatly bundling wires. "If you read it, you know the current community members have to consider new residency requests together. I can add your name to the first meeting agenda and let you know when that's scheduled. Full name and contact info?"

Lauren gave the information. Murderbot didn't need to write it down to remember, and Madison had no doubt there would be a community calendar and meeting agendas in their future.

After Lauren left, Murderbot set a tablet in front of Madison with an Avengers fanvid showing at human speed. It was over two minutes of superheroes dropping things, falling on their asses, making a mess, and then smiling or shrugging it off.

"Thanks," Madison said.

"While you were watching, I sent a schedule planner to all initial tower residents to find out moving plans and possible dates and times for our first meeting."

When two more people appeared at the door and tentatively knocked on the door frame, Murderbot set up two chairs on the opposite side of Madison's desk and then came around to sit beside Madison. "Have a seat." They motioned the newcomers forward. "I'm Murderbot and this is Madison Miller. What can we help you with?"

"Uh," one with brown hair and light freckled skin said, "I'm Penny Lewandowski. My pronouns are she and her."

After a pause her friend said, "Hi, I'm Kei Walters, pronouns they and them." Kei had darker hair and skin and sat up taller as they spoke. Madison managed brief eye contact and received a smile. "We're part of a writing group. Some of us write fic. And we were wondering if one or both of you might want to join. It's very informal. You could come meet the group before you decide."

"When do you meet?" Murderbot asked.

"After dinner. We try for every week but aren't really that consistent." With barely a pause Kei continued, "You can share up to 3000 words for the whole group to read and discuss between one meeting and the next. But lots of people just beta or request feedback individually and then chat about their research or current enthusiasms when we meet."

"Sounds nice." Madison honestly thought it sounded amazing. "But how do you even know I write?"

"Well, your name was also on the proposal for the community led tower." Penny sat up and looked around as a couple of CatBots entered the room.

"It's pretty much an open secret that you and Murderbot are the hippogriffs who submitted the proposal in game." Kei continued. "And Kusanagi is your graduate advisor. If both Murderbot and Kusanagi write fic, it seems likely you already do or will soon. So which is it?"

"I think Murderbot chose me for my fic," Madison admitted.

"That sounds like a fun story. Will you come meet our group?"

Kei added them to the writing group's chat and calendar as Penny picked up an interested R2-D2.

#

"Good sunlight, Healer Carson. Do you need help moving in?" a voice called out from beside the new tower.

Carson was dazzled by the bright outdoor light as he spotted Lansol, the other patient in need of a liver, reclining in what looked like a lawn chair in front of their new tower. He was propped up with extra pillows and had a water bottle close to hand. Hanso, who'd been pushing Carson's wheelchair, paused when they were both a few feet in front of Lansol. Ronon rested the boxes he'd been carrying on a nearby planter.

"I think we can manage," Carson answered. "You look well settled already."

"Healers Taran and Follaz have been working since dawn." Lansol gestured back toward a ground floor suite designated for the new clinic patients. "I'm enjoying the sun. And your city is beautiful, as promised. I've never lived where I could hear and smell the ocean. Now I may never leave."

Carson knew from his serious undertone that Lansol did not think he could survive anywhere but Atlantis. Remembering his own suffering and hopelessness from just a few days before, Carson said, "I'm glad you're here with us, to help start this new community."

At that point Healer Taran emerged through an open sliding glass door. "Carson, this location is wonderful. We've set most of our floors to be solid for the wheelchairs, but they can be made soft and springy enough to serve as beds if we're ever overcrowded. Each room has its own temperature setting. And I've barely begun to explore the equipment Healer Somchai sent to the fifth floor. Have you been up there yet?"

"No, we're just moving in now," Carson said. He'd had both physical therapy and a counseling appointment that morning. "We'll be on the top floor, but the transporters can bring you there in an instant."

Taran gazed up, squinting against the sunlight, then wiping her eyes to meet Carson's. "I know. I have so much to learn, but I'm sure we'll see each other often. Here, there, or on the fifth floor, we'll be good neighbors. Thank you for making this possible."

"I played only a small part," Carson said.

"Only you see it so," Taran furrowed her brows in a way Carson remembered well from their time working together. Then she swept her gaze to those beside him and said, "Our thanks to you as well, Hanso and Ronon, for all you've done for Healer Carson and this new beginning. I look forward to working and living together."

"Thank you," Hanso said as Ronon made some gesture against his chest.

Then Dr. Biro came hurrying through the sliding glass door from inside with a medical bag over one shoulder. "Hanso, I thought I heard your name. Did you see that Backup Brain confirmed your results regarding patient negative one?"

Three lights flashed. Hanso excitedly waved their tablet with the one appendage not steadying the wheelchair or carrying containers for their move.

Carson was happy for Hanso even as his own blood ran cold. If Keller was in fact patient negative one due to exposure, through her work with the Hoffan virus and with his degenerative condition as a clone, then he was in some sense doubly responsible for a species level extinction event. Even if most people in Pegasus and SGC might be happy for it—even if his therapist warned him against taking too much responsibility on himself—it was a terrifying reminder of the unintended consequences of even the most well-intentioned medical research.

Meanwhile, Biro had continued talking to others as she walked, "Taran, Follaz is looking for you inside. Lansol, thank you for providing extra samples. Carson, I think I've had a breakthrough in using your immune differences to suppress organ rejection." She paused when Carson didn't respond, and for a moment he thought she'd guessed his dark thoughts. Then her gaze fell on the pile of boxes beside Ronon and all the containers hanging off of Hanso. "But maybe I should let you get settled in first. I'll send you the data to look over when you have time."

Carson knew he should be pleased, that a new system for immunosuppression derived from his clone immune system should offset some of the guilt he felt about the past. But how could he know what unintended consequences might come from this new research? He tried to smile in the face of her enthusiasm. "Thanks, I'll look forward to that."

Hanso blinked three lights again.

With a quick goodbye to the others, Carson and his little group made their way through the tower's front door and into the main transporter to reach their new penthouse rooms.

"I didn't expect to be the first ones here," Carson said to Ronon and Hanso as they entered their new home. The large main room was silent, the white walls turned warm by the afternoon light streaming in through a bank of large windows. The give to the floor didn't seem to hinder Hanso in pushing the wheelchair, but Carson offered, "I could try to adjust the hardness of the floor or the tint of the windows if either of you care."

"Don't care," Ronon said pacing the length of the living area, checking sightlines or something unknown to Carson.

Hanso moved their head forward so Carson could see them blink three lights.

After only a glance at the kitchen and into each interior door, Ronon said, "We choose first. Which do you want?"

Carson had been told all four suites were the same. "I'm sure I don't care. Do you have a preference?"

Ronon crossed to the first doorway on the left. "This one."

Carson wheeled himself the ten feet to where Ronon stood and was glad to find the inner doorway easy to navigate in his chair. He stopped by a window on the far side of the first room that was also as wide as a door. A large bed and two nightstands filled most of that wall, with a smaller window up above. Open doors on one side showed large closets and on the other a spacious bathroom and medium size second bedroom or office. Hanso immediately began inspecting with their cameras and the tube-like appendage Carson had seen when Hanso inspected his previous room.

After depositing a roll of blankets on the bed and two large boxes on the floor, Ronon raised his arms up above the closet doors and said, "Okay if I keep my sword here?"

"Why would I mind?" Carson asked.

"Used to have it above my bed. Got some strange comments from Earthlings, so I didn't suggest that."

"You should have your things exactly where you want them in your room."

Ronon furrowed his brows and swiped a hand downward in a negative gesture that Carson didn't quite understand. "Thought this was our place?"

"Yes, and I hope we'll sleep together most nights. But don't you want your own room?"

"Why?" Ronon asked.

He was frowning in a way Carson hadn't seen before, and that hit him like a punch to the gut. On top of the revelation about Keller and the doubts about his own culpability that had stirred up, Carson felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment.

As Hanso wheeled to his side from the corner he'd been studying, Carson was glad no one else was present to witness this conversation. "I don't know how to answer that," Carson began. "It's nothing against you. I would like nothing better than to share a room and a bed with you whenever you want."

Ronon moved a hand down the center of his torso, and Carson thought of the line Ronon had said could tear him wide open. "Me too. Isn't that why we're moving in together?"

"Have you ever shared space with someone that completely before?" Carson barely forced the words out. Hanso blinked two lights and motioned their antennae in a request to speak that Carson ignored.

Ronon shook his head, still looking sad. "I didn't mean to upset you. I can take the other room."

He took a step toward the smaller room but stopped when Carson held out a hand and Hanso beeped. "Please, wait. I think there's a misunderstanding." Carson forced himself to take a deep breath, and Hanso flashed three lights. "To me, it seems like a huge adjustment for you to go from living alone for so long to sharing even a bathroom and access to our rooms. I imagined you'd want more time, that constantly sharing a room and bed wasn't the expected next step. It wasn't that you were upsetting me. I was afraid you'd regret rushing into this. Maybe I was biased by my own background?"

Ronon grunted. His posture relaxed a bit. "Take your time and think. Sharing everything may have been more common and expected on Sateda, but I know Earth is different. We both need to choose. I'll make the bed, so at least you have someplace to lie down when you need it."

Carson breathed slow and deep, watching Ronon lift and inspect underneath what appeared to be a heavy, large mattress and then adjust sheets and blankets to fit. He made it look effortless. Ronon was still so young and strong, patient and considerate, too.

Hanso blinked three lights again, evidently pleased with Carson's breathing. Perhaps the bot had thought Carson was having a panic attack, but it was more that he'd choked on his own emotions. What had started with professional guilt had morphed into insecurity about his relationship with Ronon. And while Carson still didn't feel he had much to offer, he wasn't going to let his own negativity poison whatever they had. At the very least, he couldn't stand to hurt Ronon that way.

Carson had shared rooms plenty of times as a traveling healer, in university, at conferences. But he'd never had a relationship so serious that he and his lover intended to share all they had all the time. Even if he knew there would be other options for him or Ronon if this didn't work out, it seemed like a very serious step after only a few days. But perhaps he should see it as several years of very gradually coming to know each other, as Ronon seemed to.

When Ronon finished making the bed with Carson's blue and white quilt on top, Carson asked, "Would you want this even if I we couldn't have sex, even knowing I might get worse or end up bed ridden?"

"If you ever need to sleep alone because you're too sore or not sleeping well, I will give you the bed to yourself and not mind at all." Ronon came close and crouched beside Carson's chair, on the opposite side from Hanso. "It hurts me to think of you in any more pain or unable to leave our bed, but it only makes me want more time with you for whatever we can have. I will say this every way I know to help build understanding. But you need to tell me what you want."

Carson didn't know how to match a declaration like that. He placed both hands on Ronon's shoulders and said, "I want you."

"Good." Ronon leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips. They hadn't done that before. Carson hadn't known if it was something Ronon would want. As Ronon pulled back, Carson felt breathless in a much better way. Even Hanso didn't act concerned.

Ronon smiled and said, "Let me finish getting us moved in."

Before Carson could protest or look for some way to help, Hanso waved an antenna in the way a child might raise a hand to seek attention. "What is it Hanso?" Carson asked.

"There is a bot lift between these two rooms. If you wish to give bots direct access, you can think the doors open and unlocked."

Carson did so, and a space the size of another doorway opened between the larger and smaller bedrooms. It turned out the space between the walls there was at least a meter wide, probably the width of the smaller room's closet as well. "Will all bots have access at all hours?" Carson asked.

"Whatever you decide, all BotKin will respect. The protocols for the walls only needed a resident with the ATA gene to unlock this. Would you like me to show you how your wheelchair could attach to use it as an emergency exit?"

"Why not?" Learning about Ancient designs for bot access and emergency escape routes seemed like the most useful task Carson could manage at the moment. When he discovered the bot lift could be set to open on either side, it occurred to him that Hanso might like their own room, now that Carson and Ronon were sharing the larger one. The idea gave Carson a warm, family feeling.

#

Rodney carried his laptop, two tablets, and an Ancient scanner into the penthouse and almost dropped them. Through the doorway to the left Ronon was holding his sword above his head. "Not an intruder. Not going to fight you for that room. Seriously, shouldn't you keep that in a sword safe or something? We'll have Madison and young impressionable bots around."

With a huff, Ronon placed the sword onto almost invisible wall hooks above his closet. Then he turned to Carson, whose legs and wheels were barely visible from where Rodney stood, and said, "See what I mean?"

Carson laughed.

Rodney stomped over to their room as John called out from behind him, "A little help here?"

But Rodney had already reached the left doorway and caught sight of Hanso standing on a bot platform between walls, "That wasn't here before. I didn't even know the Ancients built those into bedrooms."

"In most towers they did," Hanso answered.

"It will give Hanso better access to their room without rolling through ours," Carson said, "And they've shown me how to hook the wheelchair in for an emergency exit if the transporters aren't working."

"Of course, the utility lifts use pullies and counterweights. We never thought of them as emergency exits because there aren't that many in the main tower and they're large and hard to control manually." He glanced at Hanso. "If you're not a bot with a motor and attachment points."

"These lifts are a later and better design," Hanso said

"This tower was built for BotKin," McKay almost whispered, as close to reverent as he ever sounded.

Hanso blinked two lights. "For all forms of BotKin and BioKin together."

"Obviously," McKay rolled his eyes, then turned back to Carson and Ronon. "Good job claiming a room first, but you're lucky you didn't claim mine."

As he hurried away to see if John had started unpacking in their room, he thought he heard Ronon say, "As if I couldn't tell they'd already used the room on the right."

#

Well after lunch, when they finally reached the moving time the others had agreed upon, Madison and Murderbot couldn't even make it all the way to the new tower before they were waylaid in the middle of the Southwest Pier.

"Happy moving day!" someone no bigger than Madison but with a very deep voice called out. "I am Griffio of the Emerald Dragon Clan, or Norton from geology in real life." Shifting a large rolled object under his left arm, and holding his right hand out to Madison and then to Murderbot he added, "Pronouns he and him. Everything you said at the city council meeting so needed saying. Not that we weren't impressed enough with your proposals both in game and in real life. We are so pleased to help start a new community with you in the amazing Hippogriff Tower."

"We are not calling it that," Madison interrupted.

Murderbot only shrugged.

Norton winked, and Madison wasn't sure if that meant he'd been joking to begin with or that he was brushing off their objection now. Either way, he continued as if Madison hadn't spoken, "Even before you more or less revealed your real life identities at the meeting, I'd designed this tapestry. I used a programmable loom I built myself to weave it, and I couldn't wait to give it to you. With gratitude and great respect, from the Emerald Dragon Clan."

Madison had barely thought about the gamer coalitions that had banded together saying they'd move into the tower if the real life proposal was approved. They'd left it up to Murderbot and those who knew people on Atlantis to handle such details. Now all they could say was, "Wow, thanks," as Norton unrolled a tapestry as wide as his extended arms and almost as tall as he was. Two hippogriffs posed behind gray crenellations, presumably atop the game version of the new tower, with an orange and red sunset like flames behind them. The black hippogriff looked to one side, wings at rest, either keeping watch or enjoying the view. The white hippogriff with a single large black spot had one leg raised on a crenulation and wings mostly unfurled, as if about to leap into flight.

"Was this a screen capture?" Murderbot asked, reaching out a hand to trace or scan the weave.

"To begin with, but I had to adjust the graphics for my loom, and I chose the sunset colors because they looked cool behind both of your hippogriffs." Norton had lowered the tapestry enough to show his head above it, and the pose reminded Madison of Kilroy graffiti.

"You made this as a present for both me and Madison?" Murderbot spoke more slowly than Madison was used to. When Norton nodded, Murderbot said, "Thank you. No one has ever made me a gift before. I am surprised and very pleased."

As Murderbot owned their emotions, Madison grew pleased right along with them. Once again, the situation involved something specific and personal, but it wasn't like the fanfic decision that Murderbot had plenty of opportunity to think through ahead of time. This time, Murderbot was surprised and reacted with pleasure in the moment. If they hadn't been convinced before, that would have been enough to prove to Madison that Murderbot was fully sentient, and probably a more social person than Madison would ever be.

"I'm glad you'll be part of our tower community," Madison said. "I'm sorry we don't have anything to give you."

"Are you kidding?" Norton rolled up the tapestry and handed it to Murderbot who added it easily to the load they were already carrying. "You gave us all access to this fine tower, with the best charter ever, in the Island Empire and Atlantis." He saluted them and headed back up the pier.

"I think I might like him," Murderbot said.

By the time they reached the tower and then the penthouse, everyone else was busy moving in. Madison called out, "Hello, which room are we in?"

They heard Uncle Rodney say to someone, "Stop. Don't touch anything until I get back." Then he greeted them in the mostly empty living area with, "Take either of the back rooms. Carson, Ronon, and Hanso are over there. John and I are in here." Then he disappeared back into his suite and immediately resumed ordering John around.

Madison took only a moment to wonder if anyone else had expected her uncle to claim a suite all to himself and then expect free reign in his boyfriend's rooms as well. Then they wondered if the soundproofing was as good within the penthouse as between rooms in the main tower. "Let's try the second door on the left."

It led to one enormous bedroom with a large bathroom and quite reasonably sized second bedroom off to one side. "Would you mind if I took this one?" Madison asked from the smaller room. "I might want to close the door and be alone sometimes. Since you're always awake, I'm guessing it would be easier for you to move around and come and go this way."

"I can come and go easily from either room if you activate the bot lift, but I am happy to have this one. People walking through will only entertain and not bother or distract me." Then Murderbot showed Madison how to unlock the bot lift. Together they moved the bed from the first room into the second. The bathroom turned out to have doors to each bedroom and they both agreed Madison should lock the entry from the larger room for now to keep anyone else from walking in unexpectedly, since Murderbot had no need for a bathroom.

"Where should we hang the tapestry?" Murderbot asked.

"Do you want it in here?" Madison asked, fairly sure of the answer.

Murderbot nodded, and together they chose a place next to a large window and hung the hippogriff tapestry.

"Does that window face west?" Madison asked. "We arbitrarily call the sunset direction west on new planets, right?"

"Southwest, but we should be able to see the anachronistically named sunset through that window."

Madison rolled their eyes. "The crenellations on the tapestry tower are also an anachronism compared to where we're living."

"Game architecture that parallels Ancient architecture. The Ancients built this first."

"I know. But I'm still amused."

"Good." Murderbot started to unpack their boxes, which surprisingly included several throw pillows in between electronics. "Shall we set up the larger equipment and some floor seating in here? We should also check for game updates."

Madison activated the room's Ancient console and set up the motion sensor device first. While Murderbot checked their account on Island Empire, Madison dug deeper into the box of electronics and found metal shelving components. "What all did you pack?"

When Murderbot didn't answer, Madison went to lean over their shoulder. On the game screen a proclamation posted on the door of city hall declared the hippogriffs' charter had been approved. They and their allies had secured the new tower in game. Madison smiled and touched Murderbot's shoulder, the first time it felt natural to do so. "I knew you'd win out, but thanks for taking me along for the ride."

"I was wondering why it took the Elevated Council so long to decide. There was a 97 percent probability the game would parallel real events in awarding this tower. An announcement last night would have fit previous patterns, unless some larger change was to be implemented simultaneously. Look at the text chat, here." Murderbot highlighted several comments about a change to the terms of use, all concerning one key link: "A new verification process to allow BotKin and non-expedition members of the Atlantis community to create their own game accounts is available here."

"Wow. How does it feel to win a tower and new rights for your people and some others in two worlds?"

"I don't know how I feel." Murderbot turned to face Madison and not knowing how to feel seemed to be contagious. "You can hug me if you need to."

"Don't think I didn't recognize that quote, Murderbot." Madison wasn't always comfortable with hugs, but it felt right in that moment. At least one of them probably needed it, even if neither was sure which one.

Half a minute later, they were both setting up Murderbot's new Island Empire account. Half an hour later, they'd arranged a sweet home theater (and computer science lab) in Murderbot's room.

Madison had taken barely five minutes to unpack everything that belonged in their bedroom and bathroom when Murderbot asked, "Do you think we should invite people over for a movie night?"

#

Rodney followed his nose to the penthouse kitchen as soon as he'd arranged his tech and bedding to suit his own—completely rational and necessary—requirements. John was still struggling with an Ikea-esque entertainment center he'd traded his old furniture for.

"Do I smell pizza?" Rodney asked.

"I'm teaching the bots and Ronon to make cheesy garlic bread and minestrone," Carson called from the far corner of the kitchen. He was adding spices to a large soup pot. Ronon and Hanso were diligently chopping vegetables while H511 and several CatBots watched. Data raced to greet Rodney as Carson said, "I hope you don't mind, Hanso invited some friends. We should discuss unlocking the bot lift in our main room so they don't all have to come through our bedroom."

"We unlocked the lift in my room," Murderbot said as they entered with Madison. "They can come and go that way."

"And we're all set up for a movie night if people want to join us after dinner," Madison added.

"All of us?" a CatBot asked, Rodney didn't see which one as he was busy picking up Data.

"We set up a special viewing shelf with all of you in mind," Murderbot answered, and was greeted with many happy beeps and waving antennae.

"Um, are they all living in the spare room?" John asked.

He looked a little shell shocked, so Rodney went over and kicked him. "They'll take that as an invitation if you aren't careful."

With a shrug, John reached one hand to rest on Rodney's shoulder while the other gave Data a friendly pat. "I'm okay with whatever the rest of you want."

"Really?" Rodney worried for a moment about further memory loss and then realized he hadn't talked to John about BotKin in a long time. "You aren't worried about privacy or the robot uprising anymore?"

"I never said anything about a robot uprising, but I supported this building being open to BotKin. I knew Murderbot and Hanso would be living here. So as long as we all control our own privacy in our rooms, it's fine with me."

"Do you hear that Data?" McKay petted his favorite bot. "You and your friends can have a room here."

Data wiggled to get down and once on the floor raced into the rear right suite calling "Dibs on the smaller bedroom for all CatBots."

"Okay with everyone else?" John asked.

Murderbot and Madison nodded, as if it went without saying for them.

Ronon said, "Sure," without looking up from his chopping.

Carson said, "Of course, but can we get the rest of the vegetables into the soup before everyone's too distracted? Perhaps the rest of you could arrange for a dining area or at least a picnic blanket?"

#

That night, after the BioKin ate their fill of the dinner the BotKin helped prepare, they all gathered together in Murderbot's movie room to watch Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Madison was instantly glad that they had a room of their own to retreat to if needed, because there were a lot of people all talking and brushing against each other. But for the time being, they brought the comforter and pillows from their bed to supplement the seating on the cushiony floor.

"Did you make a wall hanging of your hippogriffs?" Uncle Rodney asked as he gaped at the wall decoration.

"Their hippogriffs?" John asked.

"The Emerald Dragon Clan gifted it to us," Madison replied.

"Emerald Dragon Clan?" John asked, with a possibly sarcastic drawing out of each word.

Murderbot added, "They want to call this Hippogriff Tower."

"Healers downstairs want to name it after Carson," Ronon said.

"I'll support the hippogriff name," Carson insisted. "Now what's a hippogriff?"

As Ronon explained a bit of Harry Potter backstory for Carson, the only person in the room who hadn't already seen the third movie and all the rest, Rodney explained to John about Spot and Blackbeak as well as their newer allies. Hanso used the bot lift to bring up some sort of reinforced lawn chair from the ground floor, and somehow Ronon ended up sitting behind Carson in that with Hanso to one side and H511 crowded in on the other. Carson blushed but didn't protest, and Madison wondered how long the two of them had been together.

John took one look at how Ronon and Carson were seated and pulled Rodney, still lecturing about Island Empire factions, practically into his lap amidst the throw pillows Murderbot had previously arranged in one corner. Rodney glanced briefly in Madison's direction but didn't stop talking to protest.

Murderbot sat beside them, legs out in front rather than in their usual triangle configuration, and Madison ended up with their own pillow and comforter, bundled comfortably between Murderbot and their own bedroom door.

A couple of CatBots seemed to have invited a round SamplerBot to share their shelf, who surprised Madison by using some sort of vacuum system, possibly with magnetic assistance, to roll right up the wall to the CatBot shelf.

When Data wound around their feet to request a place on Rodney's lap, Madison said, "I wouldn't mind holding a bot or two."

Lassie rolled up on Madison's right waving both ears, and R2-D2 climbed down from the viewing shelf to sit on Madison's left leg. By the time the movie actually started, Murderbot was holding Pluto and Cheshire. Madison saw John pull Rodney and Data in closer and was just as happy to have Murderbot between them and the couple. Overall, Madison felt more at home in the mixed crowd of new housemates of all different shapes and sizes, than they could remember feeling in years.

Then Murderbot leaned over and whispered in Madison's ear, "I like having a room of my own to share."

The End