24: Politics
The capital city of Kelowna had all the look of the old photos John had seen of New York City from the 1950s and 1960s, with its brick tenements packed closely together and burgeoning skyscrapers that carried stark, geometric forms interspersed with towering arches and sharp spires. He might have likened it to the old 'art deco' styles of Earth, if not for the simple fact that he was not on Earth. Rather, Kelowna City was a bustling metropolis many, many light years from Earth that was currently home to a few million people. Although, as he peered through the reinforced windows on the four-wheeled land vehicle he was seated within, the word 'bustling' may have been a misnomer. Whatever activity had once filled these streets was gone. Save for the odd wandering civilian, the place was practically dead. It was strangely eerie, yet the relative quiet was routinely broken by the sound of an engine, usually from one of the police vehicles that were driving around playing recorded announcements that it was in the best interest of public safety for people to limit their time outside of their homes. Emerge only if necessary, or so the voices said.
Even the inner-city districts were bare. Refuse littered the streets and shopfronts were boarded up. John sat in the back of a Hummer-style car of Langaran make, one that rumbled along on an internal combustion engine that was powered by some form of alien fuel. The windows were tinted, and there was enough room in here for John, Jonas, Daniel and Elsie to be present, with one set of backseats facing another. Aithris remained at the embassy, if only for the fact that as a Nomad he would stand out amongst the human population of the city. Natalia remained with him, and the pair kept a close eye on the makalvari activities happening within those compound walls. Their avian allies could not be fully trusted, and John did not intend on being left hung out to dry by them if anything went wrong.
Ambassador Voro'kur was sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle, whilst one of the makalvari soldiers from the embassy was at the wheel. Behind them, a similar vehicle followed, carrying Major Kav'rak and two other soldiers for additional security. That said, it seemed unlikely the armed soldiers would be permitted into the Kelownan House of Assembly. From what Jonas had explained, the House of Assembly was practically the Kelownan Parliament building and centre of government. As a former minister, Jonas had spent many days in that place partaking in the drudgery that was the political arena. That had been until the Ori had arrived, and after they had gone and Langara had started on its way to recovery, Jonas had become a district representative within the House. It seemed, as Jonas himself had said, that his rivals within government had exercised enough influence to have him pushed to a lower, less important post within the House. He was a hero who had fought the occupation, and because of that they had perceived him as a threat. In the end, leaving politics had been a welcome relief to Jonas Quinn.
"The people aren't happy," Voro'kur mused, and John could see what he meant through the windscreen. The House of Assembly was a broad, columned structure surrounded by an ornate black metal fence and topped with a large dome upon which stood a sharp spire. The blocks around it held no buildings taller than the House of Assembly, presumably a security measure of sorts. The paved roads that ran about the building's perimeter were full of people, scores of them who portrayed a distinctly disgruntled attitude. Police officers, all of whom wore respirators and carried truncheons, had lined up before the compound's main gate. Barricades had been set up to keep the protestors at bay. Even soldiers, dressed in the stark black of the Kelownan security forces, had gathered in columns about the compound's fence. They kept their weapons slung about their shoulders, merely offering an intimidating presence to prevent the protestors from getting too adventurous.
"Martial law, food shortages and a horrible plague will do that to people," Daniel commented. Voro'kur hardly acknowledged this remark, and instead muttered something to his driver in the makalvari tongue. The driver slowed as they came to the edge of the crowd, and on queue some of the Kelownan soldiers nearby began to move towards them. The delegation's arrival was expected, and the officer in charge approached the vehicle's driver-side door. He wore a deep black respirator, the filters large and round and coloured a deep grey. Slowly, Voro'kur lowered the window, just enough so that he could hear the man's words.
"Head around back," the officer instructed. Now some of the people were turning towards them, anger flaring at the approach of the obvious government delegation. The windows were tinted deep enough that the makalvari within were hidden from view, but the dislike these people had for their authorities was enough that they began to vent their anger towards these new arrivals. Bottles flew out of the crowd, and John could see the anger and despair visible on so many of the faces around them. Many wore masks of their own, but most of those were simple bands of cloth that would hardly stop a sneeze let alone a disease.
There had been a few infected people sighted along the way here. Most victims remained locked up behind closed doors, tucked away in clinics or forced to remain in their homes. The Ambassador had explained that the Kelownan authorities were quick to pull the infected off of the streets, often forcibly herding them into trucks and taking them away to some undisclosed location. The few they had seen on the streets had either been keeled over by the sidewalks in a manner more common among vagrants, or they had been wandering the empty streets aimlessly, the visible sores on their faces openly bleeding while their eyes stared vacantly ahead. Their minds were being addled by the disease, and so they twitched and shouted and muttered to beings who were not there except within their mind's eye.
At one point during the drive into the city, they had watched one visibly infected woman be jumped by a passing patrol. They had watched the officers subdue her with electrified batons before rolling her up in some kind of plastic sheeting. It had been tied closed and the woman had been thrown into the back of their van, a deep black thing with stark white Kelownan text printed upon it that denoted it as a 'Public Order' unit. That van had sped away, and it was then that the Ambassador had told them that no one within the makalvari embassy knew where those victims were being taken. No one in the public seemed to know either. It was a closely guarded secret, and the thought of it was one John found disturbing, to say the least.
"We are safe from this disease, aren't we?" Elsie asked then, seated as she was at John's left. She had been looking through the window in silence for most of the trip, presumably as unnerved by the state of the city as John had been.
The makalvari driver had slowly guided the vehicle through the crowd, assisted by the police who kept the protestors at bay. Despite those efforts, a few glass bottles smashed against the sturdy vehicle and its reinforced windows, splattering liquor and even urine across parts of the vehicle.
"As safe as anyone else," Voro'kur replied. "If you see anyone with weeping sores, keep your distance." He turned his head then, offering the worried Lieutenant a smirk. Ahead, the crowd thinned out again and the driver took them around to the rear of the government compound. They were expected there, and another officer stopped them before a well-guarded back gate.
Voro'kur wound down the window again and handed the officer his papers. A Kelownan diplomatic pass, although John found it odd that a makalvari would need one in a place such as this. One look at the occupants of the vehicle and these guards would know who they were dealing with.
The House of Assembly was positioned such that a set of train tracks passed through the compound around it. A means for officials to travel directly to it from afar, no doubt. The grounds about the government building were crawling with armed guards, and one in particular motioned the makalvari delegation to head down a certain side-road. At the end of it, under a simple metal shelter, awaited a set of parking spaces specifically for the makalvari. From there, an enclosed canvas shelter had been erected that led straight into the House of Assembly. John realised that it was a way to keep the makalvari from being seen by outside eyes, no doubt as a form of security and increased secrecy.
"Your people sure take their security seriously," John remarked, looking over at Jonas who was seated across from him. Jonas appeared preoccupied, and as such took a moment to realise John was actually speaking to him.
"I don't like it, Colonel," Jonas said, after a pause. "Nothing about what's going on really adds up." He leaned forwards a little, lowering his voice such that John had to almost strain to hear it. "There was a Herald here, in that building." He nodded towards the House of Assembly. John knew what he was getting at, of course: could they really walk in there knowing that the Kelownan government was being manipulated?
"What do you want to do?" John asked him. "You want to go back to the embassy?"
"No, no, I don't." Jonas shook his head. "But whatever's going on, this disease, it's connected to what I saw. It has to be."
"I stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago, so I agree with you."
"We might not get our answers here," Jonas added. "I do know some people outside of government who could be more help."
"Later, Jonas. We'll see what happens when we meet with your Prime Minister." John had made no secret of how much he despised politics, and here was no different. He would be more than content to allow Jonas and the makalvari Ambassador to do the talking. With this in mind, he looked up to find that the vehicle was being brought to a gentle halt within the designated parking space. The doors were opened by two guards and, after spending what felt like hours inside the cooped and musty confines of the rugged vehicle, John was finally able to climb out into the open air and stretch his legs. He was unarmed, as was the rest of the team. A condition of entry when it came to the House of Assembly. With that in mind, John looked over to the other vehicle and noticed that both of Kav'rak's armed soldiers remained in the car. They might be allowed to stay out here, but no self-respecting Kelownan would allow armed makalvari into their centre of government.
The air was cold, the sky blue but otherwise sparse with clouds. John and the others fell into step behind the two guards who directed them towards the sheltered passage, which in turn took them to an otherwise unassuming entrance at the base of the main building. Through here, they entered a basement corridor, a plain concrete affair with conduits and pipes lining the ceiling. A security checkpoint was situated before a gate at its far end, and here the humans within the group were required to provide basic details, as well as leave any weapons or sharp objects they may have been carrying at the desk. The guards here, all uniformed in the deep black of the Kelownan Security Force, treated the human members of the delegation with obvious suspicion. When it came to Jonas' turn to approach the checkpoint and offer his credentials, he instead pulled out a dog-eared pass upon which a somewhat younger mugshot was attached. His personal details were printed next to it in Kelownan, and the guard at the desk took pause as he saw what was a Kelownan government pass. It was expired, of course, but it at least told them upfront that Jonas was a former representative in the House of Assembly.
"Jonas Quinn?" The guard, a portly forty-something man with a moustache and a previously bored look on his face, now lit up with renewed interest. He looked to the papers scattered across the desk before him, and he sifted through them quickly, searching for one in particular. Finally, he found it, an official bulletin that had been posted more than one year ago pertaining to Jonas Quinn and his status as a fugitive.
"He's under the protection of the makalvari embassy." Major Kav'rak, who had joined the group at the checkpoint, stepped forwards and narrowed his stark yellow eyes at the seated guard. Nearby, a fluorescent fitting flickered sporadically. John was getting a very 'Cold War era bunker' vibe to this place, complete with bored guards who no doubt saw little to no excitement down here. From what he understood, Langara had a roughly 1960s level of technology, and so were still reliant upon analogue means unlike the increasing digitisation found on modern day Earth.
"He is here to provide assistance to our delegation," Kav'rak added. "Whatever status he has in the eyes of your government is irrelevant. Any attempts to arrest him will be met with harsh diplomatic repercussions."
The guard, who for a moment appeared perplexed, promptly snatched up the phone he had at his left and pressed a button. He waited a moment as he was transferred, before finally getting through to who he needed. They shared a quiet, brief conversation, one John only caught snippets of. It seemed the guard spoke to the chief of security here, and the chief was now telling him that yes, Jonas Quinn was to be admitted and that the wishes of the makalvari representatives were to be respected.
"All right." The guard put the phone down, his voice laced with some small measure of annoyance. Nonetheless, he looked up to Jonas and motioned for the doors behind him. "Through you go, Representative Quinn. Just make sure to be on your best behaviour."
"I will," Jonas replied, offering the guard a beaming smile before he stepped through the security gate and made his way for the elevator ahead.
John saw a corkboard upon the wall behind the guard's desk, and amongst the notices pinned upon it was a close-up mugshot of a man he recognized: Gorum Kavul, the terrorist leader who had been responsible for the deaths of Jonas' wife and daughter. He looked a little older in this photo, his hair longer and more bedraggled, his face carrying with it noticeably more lines. The man still had that unnerving look to his eyes, a look John had only ever seen in those of a more unhinged nature.
Daniel sidled up alongside him and followed his gaze, seeing the photo and frowning slightly.
"You think it's true?" Daniel asked. "About how none of that man's followers are getting infected?"
"I don't know what's true anymore, Daniel," John answered. He resumed his walk to the elevator doors, with Daniel following. "Whatever's going on here, we'll get to the bottom of it. We have to."
Prime Minister Curza Valem was a man in his early sixties, tall and with thin greying hair. As typical of a statesman, he wore a black suit complete with a red tie, and he stood alone in the meeting room hall. It was a large space, long and rectangular and painted in gentle shades of beige and grey. Marble columns were spaced along either wall at even intervals, whilst large, sprawling portraits were hung between each. Glass display cases were also amongst the décor, some of which contained old relics from the days of Goa'uld rule. The centre of the room was taken up with a long and rectangular glazed wooden table, and upon its surface were spread maps and files pertaining to the ongoing conflict with the insurgent bands that had cropped up in the past several months. Gorum Kavul was turning the people against the Kelownan government, and the crisis with the plague had provided ample opportunity for a united front to be formed.
John and the others filed into the room, led along by a middle-aged man with wavy, greying hair and light brown eyes. This was Defence Minister Tiron Ovillio, one of the Prime Minister's closest associates. He was also one of Jonas' old acquaintances from well back in the day, when Jonas had been in government after the Ori had abandoned Langara.
"The makalvari delegation, sir," Ovillio declared, and he gestured for Kav'rak and his party. "Joined by several representatives of Earth."
The Prime Minister, who had been pondering a map of the northern reaches of the Kelownan nation, perked up when he heard the name. He turned around, and John offered the ageing politician a somewhat forced smile in greeting. John, Jonas, Daniel and Elsie had spread themselves out a few metres from where the Prime Minister stood. Kav'rak stepped forwards, joined by Ambassador Voro'tuk. Whereas the Ambassador offered the Kelownan head of state a courteous bow, Kav'rak simply gave the man a small nod.
"I requested this meeting days ago," Prime Minister Valem said. "I don't recall asking for Earther involvement." His gaze drifted over to Jonas. "And former Minister Quinn, this is a surprise. The guards here were quite eager to arrest you when they heard you had arrived."
"I'm sorry to disappoint them, Prime Minister," Jonas stated. He fixed the older man with a firm gaze, daring him to be the first to look away. "But I've got new friends now."
"Yes, I can see that." Valem scratched at his chin, eyeing the rest of the group. "The people from Earth, from Stargate Command, I can't say I'm familiar with you all." He pointed at Daniel. "Although, I have seen your picture a few times. In old files."
"I'm popular on all the planets I visit," Daniel remarked.
"And you?" Valem's gaze settled upon John. "Are you the one in charge?" He could probably see the rank insignia at John's shoulders. Even though he may not have known what it meant, with the Kelownan system being different, he could recognize authority where he saw it.
"Colonel John Sheppard, SG-1." John took a step forwards, offering the Prime Minister a hand to shake. The older man looked down at it, frowned slightly but otherwise ignored it. John, his attempt to be friendly quashed, retracted the offered hand. He felt only slightly insulted.
"The humans of Earth have been known to interfere in Kelownan affairs," Valem said. He regarded the group as a whole, and John sensed some degree of disdain in his blue eyes. "Every time they get involved here directly, it seems trouble soon follows."
"Looks like the trouble has already found you." Elsie perked up then, catching the Prime Minister's eye. "I mean, have you been outside recently? Or you too busy staring at reports?" In her typical way, she had managed to sound both flippant and insulting all at once. Ambassador Voro'tuk glared at her then, but the Lieutenant simply gave a shrug as soon as she realised everyone was staring at her.
"Lieutenant Rhodes, maybe you should go wait in the corridor?" John, doing his best to be diplomatic, figured he should take the least diplomatic of the group somewhere else. Elsie appeared relieved by the request and gave the Colonel a nod before she strode quickly out of the room. As much as John hated politics and politicians by extension, he figured they would need the Prime Minister's cooperation if anything was to get done here.
"Apologies about the Lieutenant," John offered, even though he hardly meant it. Valem appeared unconvinced. "She hasn't got much of a filter on her, if you know what I mean."
"How goes the situation here, Prime Minister?" It was Kav'rak who asked this, and he stepped up alongside the man and looked down at the map spread across the table before them. Various places were marked and notes had been made. John approached, driven by curiosity more than anything else. He peered past the Major and towards the map, seeing a lot of Kelownan text scrawled about it.
"Not well, I'm afraid," the Prime Minister said. His voice sounded strained, as if admitting this was physically painful for him. "The insurgent forces control pockets of the outlying countryside. They have also commandeered artillery batteries and anti-air defences from military outposts and bases across the country. We suspect they intend to launch an offensive against the capital."
Kav'rak looked surprised to hear this. John figured the red lines scribbled across sections of the map north of where the city was located indicated the extent of insurgent control.
"What about your military?" Jonas was at the Prime Minister's other side then. He looked even more shocked than Kav'rak had been, and now his attention went to the map as he took in what it portrayed. "What about the air force?"
"Many of our personnel have fallen ill, others have deserted," Valem explained. His expression became grim as he described the dire situation the Kelownan nation was caught within: "A lot of soldiers and police officers thought it more prudent to abandon their posts and return to their families rather than defend their capital city. People have been attempting to escape the city for weeks now, but as a means of preventing the spread of the disease we've had to restrict passage in and out. The insurgents don't seem to have any such problems. They continue to amass numbers and strength, and they have at their helm a man whom I believed was locked away in prison for life." He looked to Jonas, his features scrunching up into a much sourer expression: "You may have made a mistake in letting that maniac live, Quinn."
The Prime Minister of course referred to Gorum Kavul. The notorious terrorist and former resistance fighter during the Ori occupation had seemingly taken command of a separatist movement in the north, before using them to spread his influence further. He had the people, the weapons and, it seemed, the motivation to push on the capital city and engage in an all-out war with the Kelownan government.
"It's almost as if the insurgents aren't getting sick." Now Daniel chimed in, appearing at John's right. Ambassador Voro'tuk made his way around the table, looking over the maps and photos and files scattered across it. He ruffled the plume of feathers on his head in an absent, if thoughtful, gesture.
"Many people share that same impression," Valem said. "We have no real confirmation, however."
"But people out there probably believe they have a cure," Daniel added.
"Enough to drive them to the insurgent cause. They see the Kelownan government as corrupt and ineffectual, a government that no longer represents the best interests of the people." Valem shook his head slowly. "They're terrorists, and they're taking advantage of a natural disaster. Nothing more."
Voro'tuk looked to the Prime Minister then. His avian features carried a careful, almost suspicious appearance to them.
"You should have informed us earlier as to how dire the situation was," the makalvari Ambassador said. Now the Prime Minister turned to him, and John noticed the man tense up slightly. "If my people are put at risk because you haven't been forthcoming with proper, regular updates as to the status of this war, then I will hold you personally responsible."
"We couldn't be sure ourselves until the latest reconnaissance reports came in," Valem countered. "And we might be doing better if your people were more forthcoming with aid."
"As you know, the Republic of Makvar does not normally interfere in the conflicts of foreign powers," Voro'tuk said, and John could tell from the way he said it that he did not carry much conviction. It was a rehearsed response, something he might say before the television cameras back home (and John had to assume that an advanced civilisation such as the makalvari did, in fact, have some form of television).
"But we can provide assistance," Kav'rak added, and the Prime Minister glanced his way. "However, we cannot bring in soldiers, if that's what you're wanting."
"The presence of your embassy here is a point of contention amongst our government and the citizenry," Valem said. "I'd hardly want your troops flying into the conflict."
"We've already provided some materiel assistance. What has become of it?"
"It's not enough." Prime Minister Valem shook his head. "We need more, much more. We need enough to turn the insurgents back, to be able to hunt them down within their hideouts."
"And yet, weapons will do you no good without the soldiers to use them," Kav'rak countered. "You said your military faces high desertion rates. We could assist with your research into this disease."
"I've put that before the House more than once." Valem's frustration was clear, and he emitted an agitated huff. "Many simply do not approve of an alien influence in our affairs. Some, I suspect, are still in denial as to the seriousness of this plague. If you wish to help us fight this disease, you will have to do your research in secret."
That had been the obvious choice from the start, and something the makalvari had already started. John wondered just what the Major and the Ambassador hoped to achieve here, yet he figured he was about to find out. Judging from the fierce look he saw upon Jonas, it seemed he had a similar feeling too and likely did not approve.
"You want weapons, vehicles and the like. That we can offer." It was Voro'tuk who said this, and once more Valem turned to regard the makalvari Ambassador. The man was desperate, this was obvious to everyone here. He had barbarians at the gates and plague running rampant; the nation of Kelowna was in a state of collapse and there was no denying it, not anymore.
"Thing is, we know that you've had interactions with a certain 'Herald'," Kav'rak added, and now the Prime Minister turned to him, his demeanour changing immediately. His eyes widened in surprise, before he very quickly reined it in and permitted a somewhat more even expression to cross his face.
"That's what they call themselves, from what we know," Kav'rak continued. "A Herald who represents an ancient enemy that looks to be making a comeback. Whatever dealings you've had with this creature, we need to know and no details are to be spared."
"That creature?" Prime Minister Valem scrunched up his weathered face into a look of disgust. "That thing stopped coming here more than a year ago. I got the impression it became engrossed in business elsewhere."
"What did it want?" Now Jonas spoke again, and he watched Valem with a sharp, expectant frown. He wanted answers.
"It promised a number of things, but it obviously never delivered them," Valem explained. "It wanted us to provide the makalvari with the naquadria they wanted because it believed they would destroy themselves with it. Either that, or they would use it to destroy their rivals." He told all readily, more than likely desperate for any assistance the visitors might offer. "It told me that our people could be elevated, that immortality could be achieved if we did as we were told. And that our rivals, that is the Andari Federation and Tirania, would be brought to heel. None of that happened and the Herald stopped visiting."
They had killed a Herald on Atlantis months ago. John exchanged glances with Daniel, who appeared to be thinking the same thing. Had they killed the one responsible for the Langaran operation its masters had planned? Or had the enemy changed their tactics in more recent times? They had taken heavy losses when they had struck Earth, losing one of their capital ships. How many of those did they have?
It had been surmised that the Scourge, or as the Nomads called them, the 'Void Demons', had stuck to operating behind the scenes for the simple fact that they did not have the numerical strength nor the ships required to launch an all-out attack. However, that had apparently changed since the loss of Atlantis. They knew of a few worlds that had fallen to them, and any attempts to gather reconnaissance on them had failed. Cruisers had been driven off and unmanned probes had been destroyed. It all seemed to originate in what the Nomads called the 'Valley of Darkness', a sector of space on the galaxy's far edge that was strangely bereft of stargates. Something that Visala had been responsible for a thousand years ago, as she had been assisted by the Janus artificial intelligence on Sanctuary in creating some program for the stargates in question that had rendered them inert across that entire sector. A means of keeping the enemy from spreading quickly, a stop-gap measure to the genetic lockouts now in place across the entire stargate network. No creature of the Scourge could step through the event horizon of a stargate without being vaporised, and this setback had seen them pursue other avenues.
The 'gateway' they had found at an ancient Nomad outpost had been one of those avenues. A doorway that could be opened anywhere at anytime, the Nomads had found one working prototype and locked it away. That same gateway had sent John and the team to the Calsharan home-world, and from there they had uncovered the truth about Visala and had found the digital duplicate of Janus on the then Nomad home world of Sanctuary. It had been about two years ago now, and John suddenly got the impression that he was maybe getting a little too old to be gallivanting around the galaxy saving planets. Not that he would ever quit, not when there was an enemy out there intent destroying all those in its path.
"We might have messed with their plans," John said, and Valem gave him a disbelieving look. "We've run into the Heralds, among other things. And we suspect this plague is their handiwork. It might even be a parting gift left to the Langaran people before this Herald you knew cleared off."
"How much do you know about the disease?" Jonas asked Valem.
"Not a great deal. Few treatments make any difference, save for those that can alleviate pain. That's about all that can be done for the infected, just make them comfortable." He shook his head slowly. Now, as he relaxed, John could see a broken, worn-down man in the place of Curza Valem. He had enemies on all sides and thousands dying to an unknown disease. Any help would be preferable to none.
"We can adjust our agreement," Voro'tuk declared. His voice carried with it some small measure of satisfaction. "We can provide what you want, but in so doing the nation of Kelowna must swear allegiance to the Republic and to its Regent."
"Swear allegiance?" Valem could hardly believe what he was hearing. "To an alien power?"
"We only help those we know we can trust," Voro'tuk countered. "And we will only trust you if you make your loyalties clear. In return, we offer military assistance of a like not seen before on Langara. Ships even, ready to pound your enemies into dust from orbit with coordinated strikes."
This had been the makalvari plan all along: work their way into Langaran affairs before taking advantage of whatever crisis they could. John remained quiet, although he could see that Daniel's face had adopted a shocked, even angry, expression. Jonas, a little way past him, appeared oddly sullen. John expected him to speak up, but instead Jonas simply stepped away from the table and started for the exit. It seemed he wanted no part of whatever deal was about to be struck.
"You can't be serious," Daniel said, outrage etched on his face. "These people need help, not foreign occupation."
"This will be no occupation," Voro'tuk assured him, doing so in that falsely sincere manner politicians seemed so very good at. "A partnership, nothing more."
"You want to put your ships in orbit." Daniel's voice only grew firmer. "You will be putting this entire planet at your mercy. The Langarans haven't got the means to defend themselves from your ships. You could drop a few nukes if you felt like it and they wouldn't be able to stop you. At the end of the day, the real power would lie in makalvari hands."
"I assure you, Doctor Jackson, there will be no 'nukes'."
John had to assume that was simply because the makalvari had more powerful weapons that did not operate on nuclear fission. It was one of those answers that, though truthful in part, omitted a more dangerous facet.
Daniel turned to the Prime Minister, who appeared indecisive. He wanted that military assistance desperately, but in so doing what be relinquishing the ultimate power over Langaran affairs to an alien government. It was a difficult position, and no one man could make the choice.
"I must take this before the House," Valem finally said.
"They're putting you under their thumb, Prime Minister," Daniel told him. "You're risking becoming a vassal state."
"I must take this before the House," Valem said again, much firmer this time. There would be no argument. The proposed arrangement would be put up for a vote in the House of Assembly. The Kelownan representatives would have to debate it, and Voro'tuk was no doubt hopeful of a favourable outcome to the makalvari.
"We will, of course, render any assistance we can in finding a cure for this disease," Voro'tuk added. "You won't regret our arrangement, Prime Minister. Our alliance has already benefited both of our peoples. A deeper, more intense cooperation will only increase these benefits tenfold."
Daniel sighed, saw that the Prime Minister was unwilling to respond and so stormed out of the room. Voro'tuk watched him leave, some small smile appearing along his beak-like snout. John, feeling a little out of place among these politicians, turned to Kav'rak who had been loitering a few paces along on his right. The makalvari Major had been staring at the map spread out before them, scratching at his chin with a clawed finger in a thoughtful, if absent, gesture.
"Something catch your eye, Major?" John asked him. Kav'rak looked up, his train of thought interrupted, and he turned to John.
"They must have their artillery in range of the city," Kav'rak said. "Why haven't they attacked yet?"
John had no answer for him. Whatever the plans of the insurgents remained with them. Even so, he could see that Kav'rak's military mind had been mulling this over for a good while.
"Unless they're already among us," he added. It was speculation on his part, but it was the kind of speculation that was worryingly likely.
"Jonas?" Daniel found him standing out in the hall. Elsie was seated on a bench nearby, looking utterly bored. Jonas stood before one of the larger framed paintings within the corridor, seemingly lost in the wide, forested vista that was painted across it. He turned his head as Daniel approached, but otherwise appeared to be in deep contemplation.
"Jonas, are you all right?" Daniel stopped alongside him. Jonas did not reply straight away. He simply returned his attention to the painting.
"I mean, you must have an issue with what's been proposed," Daniel added, trying to get something out of the man. "How could you not?"
"I don't know, Daniel," Jonas said, finally. "I've spent so much of my life trying to better this world, and every time something happens that undoes all the work I did. First with the naquadria, which pretty much killed you." He turned to Daniel then, quirking one eyebrow at mention of the archaeologist's prior 'death' all those years ago. "Not only that, but I had to leave. I couldn't come home, not until I'd atoned for that mistake."
"Jonas, I don't blame you for my death." Daniel smiled, always finding it strange when he spoke of his previous 'death'. Few people could claim to have died before. "I never did."
"I know, but I still blame myself. I was one of the lead researchers on that project. Some of the blame for all the damage it caused, to you and to others, rests on my shoulders. And now we've got naquadria bombs stockpiled all over Langara. How long until these insurgents get hold of one of those?"
"We'll beat the insurgents. And we'll beat this disease." Daniel sounded confident, even if the likelihood of both of those things was very much up-in-the-air.
"I wish I could be that optimistic," Jonas said.
"Didn't you used to be?"
"That was a long time ago, Daniel. The reality of the world tends to wear you down." He nodded towards the painting. "That's Gavala Valley. My parents had a cabin out there. It's more than one-hundred miles from the city."
Daniel looked to the painting again. Indeed, it was an expertly brushed landscape, all greens and blues, complete with a field of what looked to be almost like wheat over in the middle-ground.
"I always did what was best for Kelowna, for Langara as a whole," Jonas added. "Because I want to preserve places like Gavala Valley. I want to save lives, I want to stop people from getting killed in wasteful conflicts. And now, now I don't think I'll be able to save anyone. I can't cure this plague, and if the makalvari can't figure it out then just how much more hope do we have?"
He sounded dour; his optimism had seemingly left him altogether. Daniel hated seeing him like this. He would have preferred to see some semblance of the young, optimistic scientist he had known twenty years ago, but that was wishful thinking at most. People changed, and as Jonas had done so, so had Daniel. They were both older, perhaps wiser and certainly carrying with them a greater wealth of experience.
"If the Prime Minister wants to hand military power over to the makalvari, I say let him," Jonas said. "If it means fewer people die, then I say it's the better choice to make."
"The makalvari can't be trusted."
"And yet your people work with them." Jonas turned his way again, shooting him a questioning look. "Just as mine have done."
"An alliance of convenience. We have common enemies."
"What about when the fight is over? When the Void Demons, or this 'Scourge' or whatever you want to call it; what about when they're beaten? Do we turn on each other?"
"That's one bridge we'll have to cross when we come to it," Daniel replied. He could think of nothing better to say in that moment. The odds were good any alliances would be temporary.
"I want to see Langara safe," Jonas said. "And if the makalvari want to occupy us, subjugate us, then that's fine. We'll beat them, same way we've beaten everyone else who has tried to oppress us. Right now, though, we need all the help we can get."
"We might be able to offer the Prime Minister a better alternative," Daniel suggested. "If we got Janssen on board, even the people above him—"
"That's doubtful, Daniel. Earth doesn't have the resources to spare. The makalvari do." Jonas sighed, apparently resigned to the dismal truth of the situation.
Elsie had remained seated nearby, looking on and listening closely, but otherwise leaving the pair to their conversation. She still looked bored, and at some point she had pulled an old silver lighter from a pocket and was now flicking it open and closed, over and over again. It was her father's old lighter, the one he had carried with him in the Vietnam War. He had given it to his daughter, although Elsie had never smoked in her life and did not plan on doing so anytime soon. It was little more than a token to her, a good luck charm even. Right now, it was about all she could do to keep herself amused during the wait.
At that instant, there sounded a deep, thundering boom from somewhere distant. It was muffled by the surrounding walls, yet the floor underneath shook noticeably and objects about the hallway and adjoining rooms rattled. Elsie was on her feet straight away, shoving the lighter back into her pocket as she moved. She went for the nearest window, pushing aside the curtains there in an attempt to see what might have caused the noise.
Now sirens could be heard, wailing in the distance. Behind the trio, the meeting room doors swung open and John emerged. He was accompanied by Kav'rak and Voro'tuk, with the Prime Minister and Minister Ovillio in tow. A Kelownan officer appeared at the far end of the hall, hurrying for the Prime Minister.
Another thundering thump sounded off somewhere else, and again the floor shook underfoot. Elsie leaned towards the window, looking out across the rear of the government compound. She turned her head towards the east, and from behind the rows of apartment buildings and office blocks a thick, black plume of smoke had started to rise above it all. Jonas joined her at the window, his eyes widening when he saw the smoke.
"What's going on?" Elsie asked aloud, looking towards the others. "Are we under attack?"
"Bombings," Voro'tuk said, and he followed her gaze through the window. "Multiple explosions in different areas of the city."
"It could be the prelude to something more," Kav'rak added. He motioned for the Ambassador to follow, with the team in tow. "We're getting back to the embassy. We'll be safer there."
"We haven't finalised any arrangements—" The Prime Minister began, but Kav'rak was quick to interrupt the man.
"We'll finalise them at some time when our lives are not in danger," he stated. "We'll call you, Prime Minister. Once the dust has settled." By now, sirens could be heard wailing from some distant corner of the city. John stepped forwards, motioning the group away from the window. He had the right idea, and the realisation that one of those explosions could occur much closer to their position was enough to spur the group on after Kav'rak. This left the Prime Minister and Minister Ovillio to remain at the end of the hall, looking on with some frustration as the delegation that could bring with it some measure of salvation now stormed off in a hurry.
Another thump erupted from some other part of the city, causing the floor to shake underfoot. Panicked staff members hurried back and forth as the group headed out the way they had come in. There was a renewed sense of urgency, and Daniel could almost feel the tension in the air as they moved back outside.
The two cars that had brought them here were waiting for them, engines idling. The makalvari soldiers left out here had had the good idea to get things ready for a quick departure. The whole thing went by in a blur for Daniel, with the group being ushered into one of the armoured cars before the whole thing lurched forwards and raced for the gate.
Inside the cramped confines of the passenger section, a somewhat morose Jonas turned to regard Daniel. His mouth formed into a wry smile, and Daniel sensed a degree of resignation from him that had not been there previously.
"Maybe the makalvari parking their ships in orbit is the best thing that could happen to Langara," he said. "If it means bringing some order, then they should do it."
"It'd be almost like another occupation," Daniel said.
"I've seen my people get at each other's throats far too easily," Jonas replied. The two cars sped on through the gate as soon as the soldiers had opened it. They hit the streets again, passing by the gathered protestors who had been outside the front of the compound. Now they had scattered in response to the explosions, some in a panic whilst others became only more agitated towards the government they viewed as ineffectual, even corrupt. The whole city was a powder keg, and these bombings were only the start. If the insurgents were not bad enough on their own, then the civil unrest that had become so prevalent here only compounded matters into a volatile mix.
"Every time we've been united, it's been in the face of a common enemy," Jonas continued. He steadied himself when, at that moment, the driver took a particularly sharp turn. "I'd almost go as far as to say that Langara's only ever at peace when someone's trying to subjugate us."
"Your people need all the help they can get. But to allow makalvari intervention…"
"Desperate times and all that." It was Elsie who spoke then, simply voicing what many of them had been thinking. Daniel's unease was profound, and his knowledge of history gave many such precedents as to why a nation, or in this case an entire planet, should be wary of foreign powers intervening in a conflict that has little to do with them.