XOVER: Changing of the Guard 4: The Road To Hammelcar [PG13] 3/19
ecolea (ecolea@WT.NET)
Sun, 23 Dec 2001 08:34:16 -0600
Notes and disclaimers in part 0/19
Chapter 3
"Are you all right?" Methos asked softly as O'Neill scrubbed his eyes,
weaving a little as he walked.
"Do I look all right?!"
"Well, now that you mention it..."
Jack grimaced and didn't bother to respond. The answer was obvious. Obvious,
too, was that he was not alone in his discomfort. Around them at least a
dozen mortals were being supported by their Immortal companions, who'd fared
somewhat better with the alien device.
When they'd first been unceremoniously added to the group, only a handful
had spoken the same language. And it was clear they'd all been brought
together for a reason more important than improving their ability to
communicate. What that reason was, or what purpose it might serve, would,
they hoped, soon be revealed.
"Now we know where the Goa'uld and the Tokra got their brain suck thingies,"
O'Neill finally muttered as he gratefully accepted the cup of water Methos
offered him.
"I'd say you're probably right," Methos agreed. "Most weapons, even
gunpowder, began as benign inventions, but were perverted to other uses. And
that machine is definitely one step away from the easily perverted category,
if it isn't already. I highly doubt the original creator intended for a
year's worth of language instruction to be downloaded directly into the
brain in less than an hour." O'Neill gave him a pained smile and gingerly
nodded. "By the way, Colonel," Methos asked quietly. "Are you at all aware
that you've been speaking fluent Ishrini?" O'Neill looked horrified. "I
thought not," Methos sighed. "It may just be a short term side effect of the
device, but we'll try out your language skills when we're in private."
"God damn it!" O'Neill spat.
"Heads up," Methos hissed. "Here comes the man in charge."
They hurriedly lined up with the rest of the "recruits" and waited.
"Well now," the officer who'd caught Methos and Jack addressed them. "Now
that you can all speak a civilized tongue, we'll begin with getting your
names and backgrounds. I am Third Leader Naxsos. My men here," he pointed to
a pair of junior officers, "will take your information and assign you
quarters. In the morning, we'll begin your training. I'm sure," Naxsos
smiled grimly, "that you are all eager to begin learning how to kill
Goa'uld. Don't worry. You'll get your chance. Pay attention. Follow orders.
And faithfully read your Primer. Remember, the words of the Supreme Leader
are all the words you need to live by." He nodded once and left the room.
"Their Supreme Leader wrote a moral guidebook?" Methos muttered nervously as
they were sorted into groups. "I don't like the sound of that."
"He can't be all bad," Jack responded. "I'm for anyone who wants to kill
Goa'uld."
Methos favored him with a wry smile. "That's what the Germans said about the
Communists and look where it got them."
O'Neill frowned. "We'll read it tonight."
"Words to live by," Methos agreed, and they shuffled forward in line.
***
"I don't know whether to be disgusted or amused," O'Neill commented as the
door to their quarters shut behind them. "I haven't seen security that bad
since..." he shook his head unable to find an Earth equivalent. "Hell," he
finally threw up his hands. "The Swiss have better security and they're
neutral!"
Methos chuckled. Their names had not, of course, been on the roster of new
trainees. But then, neither had half a dozen others. Apparently, the Ishri
bureaucracy was still in chaos after the death of Inanna. The officers had
simply shrugged, taken the false information they had provided, and entered
it all into the computer without a second thought.
"I'm sure the Imperious Leader," Methos waved the small volume they'd been
given under Jack's nose, "will have a few choice words to say about all
that."
"The Imperious Leader," Jack grimaced and grabbed the book as he tossed his
pack on the bed, "can kiss my ass!"
"Shhh!" Methos held a finger to his lips, gesturing at the room. "We might
be monitored...Apollo."
Jack rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that...Starbuck!"
Methos grinned. "Sorry, but would you rather have been Adama? Or maybe
Baltar?"
"I'd rather have been Jack, or better yet, Colonel, but noooo... You have to
have a yen for sci-fi. And bad sci-fi at that! Battlestar Galactica?! What
the hell is wrong with you?!"
"Hey, I was under pressure there. I kept seeing that flashing red light on
his terminal and....I sorta zoned on it, you know."
"No," O'Neill insisted. "I don't know. We're on the clock here, Pierson. Try
and remember what your priorities are!"
"What's in a name anyway?" Methos huffed as he sprawled on one of the beds.
"I've had hundreds of them. And it's not like you've got to live with it for
any length of time."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm not going to be Apollo when I write my
report," he muttered petulantly. "You are!"
"Fine," Methos snapped. "You be Starbuck, I'll be Apollo. I doubt they paid
attention to which face went with what name anyway!"
"Fine."
"Good."
"Right."
"Enough!" Methos shook his head and sighed tiredly. "Now that's settled, you
want to read the bloody book or should I?"
***
Methos laid the little book aside, staring at the innocuous cover for a long
moment, then shook his head, sighing. It didn't matter, he thought sadly, if
the cover were red and written in Chinese or inscribed with German lettering
and espousing genocide. That kind of manifesto, in any language, was still a
declaration of justified violence against the minority. Or in this case, the
majority.
Oh, that wasn't what the Imperious Leader of the Ishri quite said in his
text. That was all between the lines. But the idea of Immortals as the Great
Benefactors of Universal Harmony was absurd. True, Immortals were long lived
and gained much experience during the course of their lives, but that was
true of all individuals. The ability to become wise and give good counsel to
others was a gift few individuals, whatever their longevity, were born with.
And it was certainly not a birthright of Immortality! How could the
Imperious Leader and his followers expect anyone to willingly give up their
own governance, especially those suffering under the Goa'uld, to another,
albeit more attractive sounding group of tin gods?
The answer, of course, was that he didn't. Neither had the Fascists, the
Communists, and the Nazis. They'd won the hearts and minds of those who
needed to be led and silenced any dissent. Universal conformity had been the
rule of the day. Or a universe of conformity, if the Imperious Leader were
allowed to follow through with his plans. Either way, it left Methos with a
sense of disgust at the presumption of superiority. He'd met more Immortals
than he could recall that he wouldn't trust to clean his boots properly, let
alone dictate laws.
He looked over to where Jack lay sleeping on the bunk across from his and
shut the overhead light. Poor man, he thought as he settled himself back
against the pillow. That machine had left him too exhausted to even eat the
dinner the Ishri had provided. At least he'd begun muttering in English
again before he'd succumbed to his fatigue.
***
"So what's the Immortal angle in all of this?" Jack finally asked when
Methos finished his report on the contents of the Imperious Leader's
handbook to happiness. "I mean, why would they want to get involved?"
"Take any disenfranchised group," Methos responded as he combed his hair,
"and Immortals, no matter where we live, are disenfranchised by the very
nature of our immortality, and tell them they were born to serve a higher
purpose. Then tell them that they are also, by virtue of that nature, not
only superior to the majority, which has resented and oppressed them, but
destined to rule over them, and you have the perfect setup. More
importantly, from what I could gather from their conversations over dinner,
the others were all identified and indoctrinated pretty early -- most while
they were still pre-Immortal."
"Makes sense," Jack agreed. "By why would Inanna-?"
"Not Inanna," Methos interrupted, moving to sit on the bed. "You know as
well as I do she wasn't interested in universal domination. Too much work.
She'd carved out a niche for herself and kept it safe and warm. She was
utterly self-absorbed. And more guests at the party wouldn't have been
tolerated. No, this is something else entirely."
"Protege?" O'Neill suggested thoughtfully.
"Maybe," Methos shrugged. "At the very least the Ishri Imperious Leader is
someone who's been planning this for a very long time."
Jack raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to go on.
"Some of those Immortals out there are older than MacLeod. If I were
planning a coup d'etat, I'd definitely keep a low profile. Play the loyal
servant and very quietly gather together those who would be loyal only to me
or my cause. Then, I'd scatter them like so many useful chess pieces on a
board, never putting all my men in one place, but training them separately
so they couldn't unite until I was firmly in charge. Then I'd bide my time
and wait for my chance to seize power."
"Sweet," O'Neill nodded. "And Immortals have lots of time."
"Exactly," Methos agreed. "You could never hope to hold a mortal army
together for as long as the Supreme Leader has. You'd need to cultivate the
Immortals within your sphere of influence and find a way to convince them to
remain."
"Well, yeah. But how?" Jack shook his head. "What could the Supreme Leader
possibly offer? They've got enough time to gain their own wealth and power
if they wanted it."
"The lives of their mortal companions," Methos bluntly suggested.
For a long moment Jack sat in stunned silence. "You think they're hostages?"
"I don't think so," he shook his head. "But... Have you noticed all the
mortals appear to be slightly older than their Immortals?"
"Yeah, I did," Jack nodded. "So...? What? The Supreme Leader finds these
pre-Immortal kids and sets them up with...a buddy? Someone they'd feel
comfortable with? Someone they wouldn't ever want to lose? And when the
Immortal discovers he's gonna live forever and his friend isn't he offers
them a choice?"
Methos nodded slowly. "Not a choice, but a chance. And if he's got a
sarcophagus or two laid up somewhere he's probably made a big production
number out of it. Mystery religions are always very popular with the masses.
And it's got to be a friend. Wouldn't work with a spouse or lover."
"Why not?" Jack asked, obviously thinking of his own mindset.
"Romance is a relatively new concept," Methos sighed. "The truth is, you can
lose your lover and still hope to find another, but friendship..." He shook
his head. "True friendship is so rare that it often comes only once in a
lifetime -- even for an Immortal. It's more than love, more than sex, more
than comfort and companionship. It's about understanding and being
understood. The ultimate acceptance of your soul by another soul. There are
no irreconcilable differences between true friends."
Jack stared at his companion thoughtfully. "You don't believe in true love,
do you?"
"That one true perfect love? I've been married sixty-eight times and I'll
tell you the truth," Methos grinned. "Sex always gets in the way of
friendship. You can be friends with your wife, but to be best friends and
lovers with your spouse is very difficult. I've only met a few, mortal and
Immortal alike, capable of that."
"The reason being?"
"Because the reasons for marriage and the reasons for friendship are based
on totally different needs. It's a modern concept for men and women to marry
and become friends, forsaking all others. Marriage was always about the
biological need to reproduce safely, prettied up with social ties and
relationships. In the old days, friends were your support system within, and
without, the marital relationship. Even as little as a century ago, no man
or woman would ever have insisted their spouse give up a friend in their
favor. Or vice versa. The subject just never came up."
"So what changed?"
"Sexual equality," Methos smiled. "If a society believes that the man must
be strong in order to protect his weaker wife, his possession, then he has
all the rights. Women no longer believe that-if they ever did. But now they
have the right to speak their minds -- and they do. Divorce is prevalent
again, just like it was in Rome, because women have become people again, not
just sexual objects and adjuncts to their male relatives. You can no longer
barter and trade your women like sheep."
Jack rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. What Methos said made sense but,
"You're a marrying man, Pierson. The kind of guy who likes being in a
marriage. And you've been married often enough to prove the point. So, how
can you not believe in love?"
"Oh, I believe in love," Methos laughed softly. "I just didn't marry for
'love' sixty-eight times. A lot of times it was marry the girl or die -- and
beheading was always a popular method of execution. Or, here's a lovely
gift -- have a nice life. Sometimes I just got married because it was
expected, and I wanted to stick around and have all the social benefits of
living where I was. So marrying was a small price to pay to have the esteem
of my neighbors. The times I've married for love," he shook his head, "I can
count on one hand. And each time it's always ended in tragedy. They died. I
didn't."
"So why not an Immortal wife? You and Amanda..." he grinned widely.
Methos simply stared at him in shock. "In a world where there can be only
one? Charming. What happens when there's just the two of us left? There's
nothing romantic about killing the one you love then having to live with
their memories forever. Bad enough to watch them die slowly over the years,
rather than live in dread of that awful moment when you either have to kill
them or die."
Jack shrugged. "Well, now you know that's all a lie..."
"Changes nothing," Methos shook his head. "The Game hasn't ended. Any
Immortal woman would still have to fight and I couldn't interfere. And much
as I like Amanda-"
Before he could finish the warning klaxon sounded, calling them to assemble
with the others.
"So when do we leave?" Methos asked, stopping Jack at the door.
"We've got all we need on the Ishri," O'Neill shrugged. "First chance we
get. Probably when they move us to wherever they're doing the training. We
just hang back, slip away, get our stuff and head down to the garbage dump."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Methos nodded and they both filed out to join
the others.