FIC: Make the Pie Higher (2/2)
PART I
Planet X has a penal code before it has a full constitution. It goes something like this:
1. Lethal force is only acceptable when:
a. Used against Wraith or enemy combatants or really scary animals
b. In self-defense
2. The role of a police officer is to quell violence and bring offenders to trial, not to punish. The following acts are not acceptable behavior for said officers.
a. Rape
b. Whipping
c. Unnecessary violence (yes, Ronon, you too)
d. Coercion
e. Stealing
3. Civilians are allowed armaments to protect themselves.
4. All crimes will be reported to the tower and will result in a fair and public trial, which may or may not be done by a jury of peers.
5. Punishments are determined according to the specifics of the crime. Murder, rape, and hideously violent acts may include death as a punishment.
6. Other more minor crimes may be punished by fine, forced labor, community shunning, imprisonment, and corporal punishment. Drone weapons will no longer be used for anything other than matters of national security.
The first cabinet meeting of acting-president John Sheppard’s government is recorded on thick yellow parchment as follows:
Acting President Sheppard: Okay, so about these elections . . .
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: Excuse me, Colonel, but what are elections?
Acting President Sheppard: They’re um . . . they’re when you vote for who you want to be in charge.
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: Vote?
Acting President Sheppard: Teyla, exactly how do you choose leaders on your world?
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: We come to an agreement.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Oh, how very Kumbayah of you. How exactly do you do that?
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: It comes to pass. People will naturally group around a leader.
Acting President Sheppard: Well, where we come from it’s a little more formal than that. But the idea’s the same, only it’s done in secret, writing the desired candidate on a piece of paper.
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: But how can you decide who should lead if you don’t know who everyone else supports?
Acting President Sheppard: Um . . .
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Well the point is to vote for who you want and not be pressured by oh say . . . the mob.
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: The mob?
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Never mind. And it’s all academic anyhow. We’re not clearly set up for much of anything right now, Colonel. I mean, we barely have a means to get ballots and things like that out to the people, and when we do, most of them can’t read them.
Acting President Sheppard: Well, that’s why we have to make education a priority.
Minster of Justice and Security Dex: I already divided the soldiers into policing squads and civic duties. I think that some of those can be used to run elections. They think you’ll fire drones at them if you catch them breaking the rules.
Acting President Sheppard: Good. See, we have the infrastructure. We’ll um . . . we’ll have the people elect a president first. Okay?
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Prime Minister.
Acting President Sheppard: Prime Minister?
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: This is technically a constitutional monarchy, though you know . . . we don’t have a constitution yet.
Acting President Sheppard: Neither does England.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: So we elect a prime minister. Then what? I mean, we still have to deal with all the actual problems because these people don’t know how to do anything other than farm.
Acting President Sheppard: Then we at least know the opinion of the people, Rodney.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: But we’re going to be deciding everything anyway. I mean, I already require about 10 village grunts and 2 relatively educated people to help me start searching the rest of the city. And Ronon’s making himself a battalion of soldiers in his image. What more is there to decide?
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: It seems as though I am landed with a great deal more offices that the rest of you. Perhaps some of these tasks could be handled by the people themselves.
Acting Prime Minister Sheppard: And in time they will all be separate positions. But for right now, let’s just stick with simple things.
Minister of Agriculture/Education/Transportation/Comunication/Sanitation/Recreation/Health Emmagen: But I was not a farmer or a teacher or a transporter or any of those things on my world. And I believe that Dr. McKay is the most experienced at matters of health, as he speaks about it so frequently.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: No, Teyla, I think you’re ahead of me in the voodoo department.
Acting Prime Minister Sheppard: Actually, I’m probably the most qualified - I used to fly medEvac and well . . . you get to see a lot that way.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: So then you be minister of health.
Acting Prime Minister Sheppard: But I’m president.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Prime Minister. Acting Prime Minister.
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health Sheppard: Fine.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: And you’re better at transportation too.
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health Sheppard: I fly planes, Rodney, not horses.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Look, this is all very well and good, but I think we need to place city exploration as a priority. In the very least I need to get to the generator room to find the ZPM.
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health and Transportation Sheppard: Fine. We’ll go this afternoon.
Minister of Agriculture/Education /Communication/Sanitation/Recreation Emmagen: Actually, Colonel, as Education Minister, I believe we should allow Dr. McKay to take several of the people with him, so they might learn more about the technology. You must attend to the court. They have become agitated by your refusal to convene.
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health and Transportation Sheppard: Well what if I don’t want to convene?
Minister of Agriculture/Education /Communication/Sanitation/Recreation Emmagen: I do not believe you have a choice. They have lived here in the Tower their entire lives, catering to the whims of the Lord Protector. You cannot simply abandon them to figure out how to live in the world themselves without some form of proper training.
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health and Transportation Sheppard: Well I guess they can stay in the Tower. We’ll just stop feeding them.
Minister of Agriculture/Education /Communication/Sanitation/Recreation Emmagen:: And how are they supposed to get their food?
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health and Transportation Sheppard: Buying it?
Minister of Agriculture/Education /Communication/Sanitation/Recreation Emmagen:: These people do not possess any money, John.
Acting Prime Minister/Minister of Health and Transportation Sheppard: Then they’ll trade some of what they already own. It’ll be like . . . like income distribution. We’ll get one of the villagers to offer classes in farming.
Minister of Science and Technology McKay: Maybe we should make currency. It’s not that hard. I mean, I’m sure I could figure out how to print a coin with my face on it.
The declaration of independence of the eventually evicted noblemen goes like this:
For as long as our family history has been know, we have been protected and cared for by the graces of the Lord Protector. We are noble in blood and spirit and that cannot be taken from us. We will not work in the fields! We will not learn to take care of ourselves! We will grovel but we will never submit to such dishonorable misery. The Tower will take us back into its loving bosom or we will revolt!
In the end, this proves a very difficult task, seeing as how none of the noblemen possesses nor understands the use of any sort of weaponry. It’s also disturbingly difficult to mount a revolution when your natural reaction to an enemy is to invite him over for a feast and proceed to humiliate him before you guests.
In the end, the one who wrote the declaration and any that can read and write are conscripted into the ministry of education in exchange for their daily bread. Whenever she thinks they are about to attempt another strongly-worded letter, Teyla beats them with her sticks.
John and Rodney’s first time is the night after the first cabinet meeting, and is much the same, though it is not recorded on any piece of parchment:
John sighs forlornly, burying his head in his hands. “I should’ve guessed Sateda was run by a military junta.” This much is true, considering that Ronon’s theory of government is much like Ronon’s general approach to life - if it’s bad or scary, you shoot it. Other than that, you survive. And having food is always good. John’s afraid they might have to conscript whole villages just to feed Ronon and Rodney.
Rodney plops down onto a nearby cushion. “This is hell. Stuck on an alien world where a scythe is considered high technology with only you and Conan and Xena for company. Maybe if I pinch myself I’ll wake up.” He does. “Ow.”
“It’s not that bad, Rodney. I mean, at least you’re kind of an adjunct ruler of hell.”
“Oh, yippie doodle dandy for me. I knew there was a reason why we brought all those social scientists along. Why couldn’t they get stranded here, hm? What do we know about government?”
John shrugs. “It’s who writes our checks.”
“How can you be so calm about this?! You have no idea what you’re doing. I don’t know what I’m doing! Ronon is training an army and Teyla wants to rule by mutual consensus and our subjects are farmers! And on top of that, we don’t know how we’re going to get home. People are trying to revolt and kill you and . . . and . . . this is not happening.” Rodney is practically hyperventilating now.
“Hey, hey, calm down.” John reaches over to grip Rodney’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “We’ll make this work. I promise, we’ll make this work.”
“Well, I’m sorry if your highness’ completely uninformed promises do little to convince me.”
John squints. “You know something, don’t you? What’d you find today?”
Rodney sighs. “The ZPM is almost depleted. Even running at the minimal level of operation that it has been for the past 10,000 years, I’d give us 2 more years, maybe 3.”
John nods. “We’ll get Earth to ship us a Naquahdah generator. It won’t be enough to fight off a hive ship, but the threat of drone weapons to take out fighters has been enough to preserve this world for thousands of years.”
“Yes, that’s all well and good. We’re not going to get eaten by the Wraith, but we’re still stuck in the Middle Ages. All you’re missing, King Sheppard, is some armor and a white stallion.”
John smiles a little at that. Rodney’s ranting, sure, but he’ll get over it. “I want to go back to Atlantis too, Rodney. But there’s something to be said about not having the responsibility of the entire galaxy on your shoulders.” That’s one thing John learned in the sanctuary, if nothing else - that the simple life really was a sort of blessing, if you had the right people to live it with (i.e. infuriating geniuses with surprisingly sculpted asses instead of meditation-fried hippies).
Rodney huffs. “Yes, here we only have a couple thousand backwards farmers, criminal soldiers, and useless noblemen to depend on us.”
“I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Oh, I can handle it all right. But I’m not going to be happy about it.” Rodney crosses his hands over his chest, pouting.
This is when John kisses him.
John’s not sure what makes him do it. He’s seen all of Rodney’s ridiculous pouts before and has been able to fend them off with little effort. But this time, it’s different, because in the end, he doesn’t think about crop rotations and elections and city plumbing and all those things at the back of his mind. The military’s not here. He gets to make the laws and he’s going to make them to allow himself this.
Rodney makes a kind of startled mphf, but doesn’t pull away. It’s not long before his genius-sized brain catches up and then he’s scooting closer, hand running up the side of John’s face, cradling his cheek as he nibbles lightly on John’s bottom lip. It’s ridiculously hot.
After about a minute of that, however, Rodney proves that he’s perfectly capable of ruining even something this good. “What was that for? It this one of those things where bi and your gay and we’re the last two intellectually advanced beings on this planet so we’d better make the best of it?”
John snorts. “I wasn’t aware that there were those types of ‘things,’ and as a matter of fact, ‘no.’ This is one of those, ‘I’ve always wanted to do that and now I have the time’ things.”
“Yeah, but aren’t you sort of you know . . . married?”
John looks at Rodney askance. “It’s not as though it’s even a real relationship.”
“Oh yeah, right,” Rodney says, pouncing. John’s just lucky that he gets pushed back into a thick nest of ridiculously decorative pillows and not something hard, as Rodney yanks his shirt up and goes straight for tweaking a nipple.
Then he’s licking down John’s neck and over his chest and god . . . flicking his tongue in and out of John’s belly button. He really hopes there’s no lint in there. And then mouthing him through his pants, one hand pressing bruising down on John’s hips as they thrust up to meet that hot mouth, urgently.
Rodney slaps his hands away when John tries to reach down to stroke himself. God this is good and why did they never think to do this before they were imprisoned in the dark ages and he was married to a blonde airhead with few skills and even less of the necessary body parts and god what was it that Rodney was doing with his mouth now?
He had John’s pants pulled down around his waist, but was still kissing him through the soft silk of what passed for royal underwear here on Planet X. And that’s right about when John’s brain short circuits.
“It’s good to be king,” he says, pulling Rodney to him.
The Results of the first election for Prime Minister are as follows:
54% The Lord Protector
12% John Sheppard
8% Constable Viccu
5% Prince Tavius
4% Goldard of Kilmo
2% Senale of Weldland
3% Aska of Titlebourough
4% Mani of Qualla
3% Gallad of Melnach
3% Oliva of Stratsky
2% Vos of Netblack
.03% Abstain from voting
.01% Bart Simpson
Apparently the concept of a constitutional monarchy is utterly lost on the villagers.
First meeting of Prime Minister John Sheppard and his cabinet of advisors:
*The scribe decides that writing out the title of the ministers is giving him carpel tunnel (a disease the Minister of Science and Technology assures him could prove to be fatal)
McKay: I can’t believe you voted for Bart Simpson. What are you, twelve?
Sheppard: Well clearly you can’t just foist elections onto people who aren’t used to that kind of freedom of choice. We’ll have to work gradually.
Emmagen: While that is certainly true, Colonel, I also believe that the problem lies in the parochial nature of this planet. Each town seemed to favor their local leader when not voting for the Lord Protector. Clearly he and the constable and perhaps select members of the court are the only truly public figures in this society. We must find some way to adjust for this geographic separation.
McKay: If you so much as think ‘electoral college,’ Colonel, I will rip that flag patch off your jacket and shove it down your throat.
Sheppard: Relax, Rodney. I was thinking more along the lines of local governments - Mayors and local town officers as well as representatives to report to the Tower.
Dex: It all seems like a waste of time to me. If we’re doing the technology and the educating and the organizing, what exactly will a council of villagers be able to do?
Sheppard: Well, eventually, they’ll take control over from us. But more importantly, they’ll get to talk amongst themselves - share knowledge, mutual aid, all that.
McKay: And what knowledge would that be, hm? Knowledge of how to tip cattle?
Sheppard: Farming knowledge, for one. And since when do you want us to have a dictatorship, Rodney?
McKay: I never saw the problem with dictatorships, in theory. I mean, all the people who happen to get into power tend to be megalomaniacal psychos who gas their own people and try to take Poland, but we’re not going to do that. We’re centuries ahead of these people in every single way. We can only help them.
Dex: Maybe they don’t want to be helped.
Sheppard: But they do! I mean, what would happen if I suddenly stepped down as Lord Protector?
Dex: Then they’d be vulnerable to the Wraith.
McKay: You can’t seriously think they’re happy this way. I mean they live in dirt huts. I know that’s the lap of luxury for Ronon the Barbarian, but all societies want to progress. We can help them do that. Running water, irrigation, food storage, electricity . . . and that’s just basic technological advancements.
Emmagen: And you intend to bring these people ‘into the future’ single-handedly, Dr. McKay?
McKay: Are you being patronizing to me, Teyla? Is she being patronizing?
Emmagen: I am simply informing you that as much as you would like to, there is no way for you to help the villagers without their own help.
McKay: And that’s why we made you minister of education.
Sheppard: Look, I’m sure we can get Elizabeth to send through info on basic sanitation along with schematics for rural irrigation systems and harvesting technology and all that, and then we can start working on that.
McKay: I’m sure it’s needless to point out to you, Colonel, but my unsurpassed genius is completely and utterly wasted on drainage systems. We should be working on . .
Sheppard: Yes, Rodney, it is needless to point out. Look, these people don’t need invincibility shields and wave generators and all of the fun things you normally find lying around the city. After we get the database downloaded and sent over to Atlantis and the basic city maintenance checked out, you’re going to be working on aqueducts.
McKay: I have a PhD in mechanical engineering, not to mention two others that are a complete waste on this hole-in-the-wall of a planet and you want me to do something that people in togas and leather thongs invented thousands of years ago?
Sheppard: Are you sure you still can?
[Transcript edited for language use and unintelligibility]
The construction of Planet X’s first local sewage treatment and running water system for the village of Meshka in the fourth quarter of the southwest province goes something like this:
“I found a shovel,” Ronon says, at the same time Rodney comes to the terrifying conclusion that, “They want me to build it out of mud!”
The measure of just how screwed they are is that Ronon’s statement might actually have been far more helpful.
After ten days, several thousand tons of mud, and some particularly hot sex (in John’s opinion) in that unsanitary (in Rodney’s opinion) mud, the village has an aqueduct with a Ancient flow pump. It’s not as pretty as the Roman’s but the villagers like it. John counts it as a win.
If John or Rodney or Teyla or Ronon knew anything about the hierarchical structuring of government bodies and the separation of powers, they’d be concerned that their constitution ended up creating something that looked like this:
John
|
|
Rodney ---- Ronon ----- Teyla
|
|
Villagers
Teyla’s never been in control of the number of people that would make diagrams like this necessary and Ronon and John are military, so they can’t really be expected to understand parallel power structures. Rodney, on the other hand, has no excuse other than the pretty view from the top.
Dr. Lin, one of Atlantis’ ‘squishy scientists’ took one look at the constitution and groaned, but he’s and unfortunate choice for the one to read it, because anthropologists like to pride themselves in their policies of non-interference, and Lin isn’t the talkative type.
The creation of the Planet X performing art troop goes something like this:
Sheppard: First order of business. The noble’s uprising.
McKay: Hah, figures, he goes straight to the military threat.
Sheppard: The only threat to our safety. Besides, why not start with something I’m good at?
Dex: It’s under control.
Sheppard: And what exactly do you mean by that?
Dex: I’ve selected a core group of fighters to name as Specialists. Their training has been rigorous and I am convinced of their loyalty.
Sheppard: How many are we talking here?
Dex: Twenty.
McKay: Twenty out of two-hundred? What are we doing with the rest of them? Making hot dogs?
Dex: Hot dogs do not taste of people.
McKay: And you would know, Hannibal.
Sheppard: Rodney does have a point, Ronon. What exactly are we doing with the others?
Dex: In their quarters.
Emmagen: You cannot just keep 180 men locked in their rooms all day, Ronon. You know they would go crazy.
McKay: Not to mention the huge strain on our resources. That many people should be . . . farming or something. What do people do on this planet anyway?
Sheppard: I guess they farm. Maybe we should institute some sort of basic training for the remaining men.
Emmagen: I am not certain we should consider reintegrating the police force on this planet. They are not needed in fighting the Wraith, and much of the local violence seems to originate from the guards themselves.
Dex: On Sateda, when the troops were on stand-down, we practiced battle hymns and staged recreations of historic events of the past, accompanied by song and rhythmic mock-battles.
McKay: You put on musicals!
Dex: Like that movie you showed me, Sheppard. With the shirtless people.
Sheppard: 300?
Dex: With better music.
*Please note that at this point, Ronon Dex is also appointed as Minister of Art.
Rodney outs them to the team like this:
“Baldric! Get yourself and that sack full of rocks that somehow passes for your brains over here!” Rodney screeches.
Teyla winces her sympathy, helping Baldric to unscroll some of the blueprints for mining of Naquahdah for the city’s power generation system.
Several courtesans are milling around, and Mara is floating in the background somewhere, gossiping. Rodney ignores them all, screaming, “Renton, I don’t care if Sheppard says we’re never using drones again, if you don’t stop trying to touch those power circuits right now, I swear I will send you on a drone-powered joyride halfway across the planet.
“Hey,” Ronon says, “that’s against the constitution.” Ronon is warming up to the idea of a Bill of Rights. Of course, if he were able to make one it would probably look like this: Wraith - Bad. Freedom and Fried Chicken - Good. Privately, John thinks that he and America’s current president might be soulmates.
“Seriously, McKay, haven’t you ever heard of soft power?” John says, poking his head up from a book by some guy named Morgenthau.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Rodney replies.
Hallway across the room, Mara breaks into tears.
When she hears about what’s her first contact team is doing to Planet X, Elizabeth sends through a packet of development handouts put together by the UN. She also includes a copy of ‘The Prince’ as a joke. The next cabinet meeting proceeds as follows:
Sheppard: So, do I want to be loved, or feared?
McKay: I vote for feared.
Sheppard: Of course you do.
Emmagen: Surely, it must be better to be loved. If not, how will your people find confidence in your decisions?
Dex: Loved sounds good to me.
McKay: Really? You don’t want to like . . . beat people over the head with the constitution?
Dex: Within the ranks, there is nothing greater than the love for one’s fellow soldier. Save the fear for my enemies.
Sheppard: Love it is then.
McKay: Yes, says the human tribble. One look at that head of hair and whole nations swoon.
Sheppard: There has to be like . . . a ‘How to Build a Nation for Dummies’ or something. I mean, there was that thing Lin sent us on farming . . . and the thing you refused to read about low-cost drainage pipes.
McKay: That’s because it was completely unnecessary. I mean, genius here, hell-o. So what if I’m not exactly accustomed to using mud as a construction material.
Emmagen: According to the literature Dr. Weir sent to me, the largest problem for rural health measures following disease is indoor air pollution caused by unhealthy cooking fires. Women are disproportionately effected. As minister of health, I must suggest . . .
Sheppard: Hey! I though I was Minister of Health
McKay: Great, now Elizabeth’s turned you into a feminist too!
Sheppard: Teyla!
McKay: Ow!
Dex: If you hit him again, we won’t stop hearing about it.
McKay: That’s right, that’s right, pick on the man with possible parasites from being elbow deep in mud all week.
Sheppard: Teyla, no. Rodney, would you please try to . . . be . . . well, never mind. Just, these people depend on us. Teyla’s concern is perfectly valid. If we don’t do something about the smog problem, then these women are going to get sick and eventually die.
McKay: If they’re stupid enough to use toxic products in their cooking then . . .
Emmagen: It is not their food, but the cooking fires.
McKay: Well, I’m sure that with a little training, I can teach some of the villagers how to make coiled heating elements. We’re not lacking in scrap metal and the process is . . .
Sheppard: What are they going to power them with, Rodney? The mud of the ditches we spent the week digging?
McKay: The catacombs run under most of the villages. We’d need more wiring, which would mean either a better alloy-creation process or an extensive sweep of the city, but it shouldn’t be that hard to connect them to the city’s power grid. I mean, I’d have to down step the power significantly if we’re just talking about heating elements, but . . .
Sheppard: How about we find out how much power we have first.
McKay: Which is what I wanted to do in the first place, but no, somebody wanted a big public show of mud-filled good-faith so he could preen like the darling little Lord Protector that he is.
Sheppard: Hey!
McKay: I’m sorry if I’m the only one on this god-forsaken planet with more than the technical knowledge to screw in a light bulb, but I can’t both try to fix the city, find us a way home, and reinvent civilization from the ground up.
Emmagen: The Planet Xians already posses civilization, Dr. McKay. It is technology that they lack.
McKay: What’s the difference?
Emmagen: The difference is that we are not here to tailor-make a world to fulfill out own desires, but to offer assistance to a people trying to fulfill theirs.
The first front page article of the Society section of the newly established Planet X newspaper reads as follows:
Lord Protector and Minister of Science and technology, secret love triangle!
THE TOWER- Those of us close to the royal family and the former nobility are familiar with Queen Mara’s recent bought of depression. At first, we believed her half-hearted desire to only consume half a pheasant, instead of a whole one were signs that she was with child, but it has recently been revealed that the source of her depression is a secret Affair between the Lord Protector and his Minister of Science and Technology.
Several villagers in Meshka reported seeing two figures wrestling in the mud during the construction of their aqueduct system, but this paper did not know what to make of the accounts. We believed it to be some form of primitive ritual practiced on the Lord Protector’s own world, little did we know that it spoke of unnatural cuckoldry!
Also, it is the opinion of this reporter that the Minister of Science and Technology is far too balding to attract the attentions of the Lord Protector and his rakish mane.
We must ask ourselves, now, what are the true intentions of these offworlders. If the Lord Protector seeks neither to impregnate our Queen with his royal seed, nor use his skills with the throne chair in order to maintain the peace, than is his purpose here more sinister? Or is he simply lapsed in judgment so that he would prefer musical demonstrations with indecently dressed men and trysts in the mud with balding Science Ministers to investment in the bloodlines that have kept us alive for so long.
What kind of demonocracy is this? Surely the will of the people is not naked mud rituals.
The first real rebellion on Planet X goes down like this:
“They have promised us a new world!” Mara shouts, standing proud above the townspeople. “A demonocracy!”
“Actually . . .” Rodney begins, until John nudges him.
“And what do they bring us? Water systems and signing guards? Papers that the common people cannot read and ‘electricity’ that we must engage in dangerous mining of this ‘Naquahdah’ in order to operate? And yet, the blood . . . the blood that gives us access to the Tower and their protection from the Wraith? They refuse to share it! What King does not consent to share his seed with his Queen.”
John winces. “I probably should have slept with her.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Rodney whispers back. Is that Shakespeare? Boy, was he a smart man. Plays could have used more sex, though.
Mara looks fierce, proud and strong as she stands in front of the villagers and the expelled courtiers. She’s not the delicate little flower, shrouded in innocence that they were all so content to ignore.
“Look at the changes they have wrought on our society!” she exclaims. “A power structure in which they are the new noblemen and we are nothing! Well, thought I find interest in this idea of the demonocracy, where we all participate in the workings of our world, I do not believe these conquerors share it!”
The villagers cheer.
“Shit,” Rodney says, just as there’s a flash of light and he and John are facing a stern (and constipated) looking Colonel Caldwell.
“Sheppard,” he acknowledges.
“Good timing, Sir.”
“You know,” Rodney says, I almost forgot about the Daedalus.
“Sorry it took so long,” Caldwell replies, still looking over the fancy robes John and Rodney have been forced to wear. Rodney hates them - they’re not hypoallergenic. “We ran into an Ori ship on our way out.”
“Yes, well, shit happens.” John tries a grin.
“So things went well with the kingdom?” Caldwell looks skeptical.
“We have a timetable for withdrawal,” Rodney adds hastily.
FIN
***Inspirations:
George W. Bush’s famous quote that we should ‘Make the Pie Higher.’ See Bushism Poem.
Intersections, by Kaneko
Pretty much everything by eleveninches, especially ‘The Modern Man’s Hustle’
The Prince
I decided to call it Planet X, because naming a planet is far too much responsibility. And if the PTB can’t take responsibility and do it, why should I be expected to?