It Boggles the Mind

IT BOGGLES THE MIND…

by

David A. Bartlett

"That's not even a word!"

Kavanagh folded his arms, stuck out his jaw and attempted to look superior. His disdainful glance was wasted on the Asgard who sat across the computer console from him. Hermiod scanned the listing of words on the screen in front of him.

"I beg to differ, Dr. Kavanagh. That is a perfectly legitimate word…in Asgard."

The game of Boggle that was taking place in the prime engineering station aboard the _Daedalus_ had only been in progress for five minutes. That was after ten minutes of Kavanagh reading the rulebook and insisting that there would be no exceptions.

Kavanagh smirked in a condescending manner. "The words have to be in English."

Hermiod fixed him with an unblinking stare. "There was no mention in the rules you quoted at length about English being the only language we were to use." The alien sighed lightly. "Of course, if you feel that you need the added help of limiting yourself to one Earth language, I suppose I can lower my level of play."

The human scientist's face began turning a light shade of crimson. "I happen to speak several languages fluently!" he barked in a tight voice that threatened to crack. "Since you don't seem to remember the rule about English, we can just suspend it and use any language we please…but the computer will have to verify that the words are real."

"Agreed," said the Asgard calmly. They decided to start a new round, so the screens of the computers were cleared, the timer was set for five minutes and then another random series of letters was projected onto each player's screen. Kavanagh worked feverishly on his list while Hermiod slowly and methodically typed in his entries. At the end of the allotted time, Kavanagh sat back with a triumphant look on his face.

"Now we'll let the computer search through both our lists and get rid of the words that it doesn't recognize." Kavanagh's smile began to disappear little by little as his list of words grew shorter and shorter. He jumped out of his chair and leaned closer to the screen. "What the hell is this? Why is it rejecting my words?"

Hermiod looked at his screen. "It would seem that your spelling of non-English words is to blame, Dr. Kavanagh. There are two n's in ennui, and you only used one. You left the "i" out of balalaika. Many of your German words are missing an umlaut. Your use of-

"Thank you!" interjected Kavanagh, cutting Hermiod off in mid-sentence. The human's eyes became mere slits, and Hermiod followed suit. They sat there for many seconds simply staring at each other. Finally, Kavanagh looked at the computer screen and observed, "I don't see the computer throwing out many of your Asgard words. I find it hard to believe that all of them are real words with definitions. For instance, what is a 'talzard?"

"It is the Asgard word for a mature member of any species who behaves like an infant." Hermiod's eyes seemed to bore through Kavanagh as he spoke.

Kavanagh seemed not to notice. "What is this word here? A 'plaktu'?"

"That is the Asgard word for a human male who serves under a female superior. Much like your position beneath Dr. Weir."

Veins at Kavanagh's temples suddenly began to throb as he started to pick up a pattern to Hermiod's words. He scanned the list of words his opponent had entered. "What is the definition of this word? What is the meaning of 'moonor'?"

The Asgard paused only slightly. "This word is Asgard for a human male who wears his hair in a style usually adopted by human females."

It was not lost on Kavanagh that Hermiod was staring at his ponytail.

The computer showed that Hermiod's score beat Kavanagh's by some margin. The human scientist muttered an insincere garble of congratulations, spun on his heel and left the engineering section. Hermiod cleared the screen, contemplating that the person who programmed the words into the computer in the first place was always more likely to win.

-0-

A week later the, _Daedalus_ had returned to Atlantis and deposited supplies and new support staff. It was then that an event took place that shook the City of the Ancients to its core. Several members of the expedition even consulted religious authorities to see if Hell had, indeed, frozen over.

Rodney McKay and Kavanagh had lunch together.

It was no secret that McKay had no use for Kavanagh and though of him as a whiny supporting player in the grand scheme of the mission. Kavanagh had no use for Rodney and considered him a self-absorbed egomaniac with delusions of godhood. That both men were right would never have occurred to either of them.

Persons looking into the mess hall would have seen the two men huddled at a corner table, speaking in hushed tones but gesturing wildly and turning red in the face. Most passers by would have thought that they were discussing cold fusion, Einstein's unified theory or the finer points of quantum wormhole mechanics. But the two scientists had graver things on their minds.

"Chutes and Ladders," hissed Kavanagh. "He can't possibly have any concept of how to win at Chutes and Ladders!"

McKay rolled his eyes and sighed. "Are you listening to yourself? You may as well suggest we play Candyland with him!" Kavanagh's eyes lit up, and Rodney headed him off with a sharp "No! I already thought of that. Various members of the mission have already played Hermiod in Monopoly, Risk, Clue, Life, Stratego, poker, canasta and, God help us all, Fizbin. And he's won every single game."

Kavanagh rubbed his chin thoughtfully and stared into space. "It has to be a game that does not require any kind of numbers, coordinates, words, maps or process of elimination."

Rodney gave him a withering glance. "That only leaves a one piece jigsaw puzzle, now doesn't it?" Kavanagh was just about to let out a sarcastic retort when McKay noticed Carson Beckett passing by the door of the mess hall carry a rectangular box under his arm. He called the good doctor over to their table.

"What's in the box, Carson?" McKay asked casually.

Beckett looked a little sheepish and replied, "I've always been a wee bit nervous around Hermiod when I've had to travel on the _Daedalus_, and I think maybe I've insulted him a might. So just to show there are no hard feelings, I thought I'd go on board and see if he'd like to play my favorite game." McKay and Kavanagh tensed as Carson held the box up for them to see. There was a stunned silence for a couple of seconds.

"Operation?" croaked Rodney.

"Oh, aye," said Beckett, beaming. "'The Goofy Game for Dopy Doctors!' He's probably never even heard of it before, so I'll take it easy on him the first few games. Must dash. Cheers!" With that he scuttled out of the mess hall and around the corner. All McKay and Kavanagh could do was stare after him with piteous looks on their faces.

"Poor naïve fool," muttered Kavanagh.

"He'll never know what hit him," agreed Rodney, nodding. Then a sudden inspiration struck McKay, and he leaped out of his seat. "Eureka! I know just the thing!" But before Kavanagh could ask what this grand idea was, Rodney was bolting through the door and out of sight.

-0-

Several days later, back on Earth, Samantha Carter wandered into the cluttered library of Daniel Jackson at Stargate Command, a bemused look on her face. Daniel barely glanced up from a translation he had been working on for weeks. "Hi, Sam. What's up?"

Carter shook her head in bewilderment. "I think the strain of working in the Pegasus galaxy has finally unhinged Rodney McKay's brain for good."

Dr. Jackson looked up from his translation. "What makes you think that?"

Samantha was still slightly shaking her head. "The regularly scheduled data stream just came through the gate with reports, requisitions and research results, and tacked onto the end of it was a message to me from Rodney. I printed off a hard copy of it." She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the paper and began to read.

'_Greetings, Sam!_

_I hope all is well with you, and that things at Cheyenne Mountain are swimming right along without me to guide them. _

_Listen, I need for you to do me a huge favor. I need for you to get an official transport crate usually used for medical supplies and put my name on it with the words FRAGILE and DO NOT OPEN stenciled on it. Then place a copy of the game "Twister" in it. And for Pete's sake, don't let Hermiod on the Daedalus see it when you ship it to me!_

_Thanks! I owe you! Maybe as repayment I can take you to Tahiti some time!_

_Love (I Wish)_

_Rodney McKay' _

Carter looked up at Daniel Jackson. "What the hell is going on in the Pegasus galaxy?"


End file.
