Long after Jack O'Neil strode out of his office, Daniel Jackson sat at his desk, dissecting the conversation—and himself.
By the time he was finished, he had to admit that O'Neil's description was all too fitting. Delta Foxtrot Bravo, indeed! People who want to save the world shouldn't alienate two of their major allies in the fight. Nor was it a good idea to have O'Neil thinking he was a loose cannon.
First things first. He called in one of his students and sent him with a message to Kasuf, asking for a private meeting as soon as possible. If that came through, he'd have to go home, clean up, and change his grubby clothes.
Daniel's heart sank at the prospect of returning to an empty house. He wouldn't be able to stay there. Too much history and emotion was tied up in that little adobe hole in the wall. The happiest times of his life had been spent in there. Unfortunately, there were also some of his worst times. He hadn't fallen this low since he—and his theories—had been laughed off the stage by his fellow Egyptologists.
The StarGate had come through to rescue him that time. Now—damn it, he had a world to save. Once he'd guaranteed a future, he could rebuild a life with Sha'uri.
One thing was certain. He had to keep his distance with Faizah. In politics, appearances were just as important as reality.
And Daniel Jackson intended to get into politics in a big way.
Shaved, showered, teeth brushed, and dressed in a new robe, Daniel felt like a new man.
The question is, he thought worriedly, can I convince Kasuf that this is the new Daniel Jackson?
Kasuf had sent a message setting the meeting at his own house. On the way in, Daniel bumped into Skaara and received an unreadable look.
Perfect. Another ally squandered.
Kasuf sat stiffly on a pile of cushions, his eyes almost wary as Daniel entered. Every other time Daniel had been in this comfortably shabby room, there had been trays of sweetmeats around.
Today there wasn't a crumb to be found.
Daniel's stomach gave a hollow groan. Herb tea did not a breakfast make.
But Daniel had decided on the proper approach. There were enough precedents in Egyptian funerary painting—and in every old Jon Hall movie. Daniel sank to his knees and bowed low enough to konk his forehead on the floor. "Kasuf, Father of my wife—" Funny how that title seemed to hit him in the heart.
"I want to apologize for my foolishness yesterday. Perhaps the bullet that almost missed filled me with too much passion. I let my tongue run away with itself."
"It seems that is not the only thing that has run away on you," Kasuf said coldly.
Daniel rose up on his haunches, looking Kasuf right in the eye. "Sha'uri and I have had our troubles before this," he admitted. "My behavior yesterday did not help our problems. I love your daughter and hope to have a future with her. To make that happen we must have a future for this whole world. There are many points of view about where Abydos should go. The best thing might be to allow the people to air their differences—before they begin fighting."
Kasuf nodded. "What do you suggest?"
"In my own world, my country was founded in revolution. But the revolutionaries found they needed to invent a new way to govern themselves. They gathered leaders from all over the country in a grand convention to draft a blueprint for government—what we call our Constitution."
He looked at Kasuf, who seemed interested. "You could call together all the Elders on Abydos—farmers and miners—to discuss our problems. Perhaps," Daniel added, thinking of Faizah's group, "you could even invite representatives from the people. The job would be to hammer out a government that will protect the rights and freedom of everyone. I'll get you copies of my land's Constitution. It's been used as a model by many countries on Earth."
"You ask much of me," Kasuf said. "There will be difficulty—people will say I'm reaching for power, or trying to foist an Earth government on them."
Then the older man gave Daniel a slight smile. "But your idea holds out a goal for everyone to work toward. Get me copies of your people's Constitution. Let us start."
Thus, in addition to running a school and teaching, Daniel Jackson became a de facto constitutional lawyer. He translated the document into Abydan, and discussed the fine points with Kasuf and other Elders. It wasn't a perfect cultural fit. Kasuf himself was scandalized that it had taken Daniel's "perfect" government eighty years to abolish slavery.
But it gave the Abydans a basis for discussion on how to run their affairs. Even Jack O'Neil grudgingly admitted that was a good idea—even though Daniel was driving him crazy with requests for books on the Constitution and similar charters to come through the StarGate.
"I wish West would relax his sphincters and let some experts on law over here," Daniel complained one day. "If s hard enough translating this stuff without acting as an advocate for it. But I guess that's the military for you—they can blow stuff up or dig it up, but they're not really interested in building up."
"Right," O'Neil agreed sarcastically. "Like the way our occupation government helped Japan set up its constitution." He frowned. "I'll see if I can help round up any local talent on my staff."
"Oh—Army officers who don't do things the Marine way," Daniel joked.
"Hey, you're the one asking for help."
"We all need it." Daniel had turned deadly serious. "The situation is getting worse in Nagada—and everywhere else. It's like watching a pressure cooker build up steam. If we don't manage to vent things off..."
He looked at the colonel. "West hasn't said anything on what we're doing, has he?"
"No." O'Neil was surprised. "Why should he?"
"I was just thinking... a power vacuum here might just suit his needs right down to the ground."
"I think you're a little paranoid on the subject of the general, Jackson."
"Why?" Daniel demanded. "Isn't destabilizing regimes something that hush-hush types do?"
"First of all," O'Neil said from harsh experience, "you need a regime that's halfway stable to begin with. I can't see any advantage to the mining operation in having starving people shooting one another. So I'd say no, West isn't pulling any strings here." The colonel managed a wintry grin. "If he were, we'd be having political assassinations by now."
It took Daniel a moment to realize that O'Neil was grimly joking.
The colonel wasn't smiling as he went on. "But that doesn't mean West doesn't have contingency plans set up in case things get out of control. I think he'd be happy to see a peaceful, productive democracy take root here."
O'Neil tapped Daniel's shoulder with a heavy finger. "With the emphasis on productive. He's depending on regular shipments of that gold crystal they dig up in the mines. If he thought that supply line was threatened—well, let's just hope this constitutional convention of yours works."
For the first time since the initial, heady days of freedom, hope walked the streets of Nagada. Young Aha could actually feel it in the air as he marched his contingent of militiamen to the hall of the Elders.
Personally, he was sick of the petty corruption, the feeling that everything was sliding out of control. He'd joined the militia to defend Abydos, not to steal from armories and lean on businessmen. The Elders had tried to arrange food allotments for militia members on full duty. But week by week Aha had watched supplies dwindle as prices rose. Even as he'd risen to command a squad, he'd seen the growth of scams as his soldiers struggled to feed themselves.
Aha glanced back at the squad marching behind him. They were fundamentally good men, he knew. But they were hungry—not just for food but for leadership.
And now, it seemed, they might be getting some.
Kasuf had managed to blandish, bully, or blackmail every Elder on Abydos to come to Nagada and discuss the planet's problems. But it was an open secret that the Elders would be working to create a real government to take care of those problems. Committees would be formed to listen to the viewpoints of every interested citizen.
Oh, there were always the few who viewed any change since the overthrow of slavery as a dreaded Urt-man conspiracy. But in the last few days before the Convention, as it was coming to be called, faction violence had fallen in the town.
Some of the delegates from the more remote areas were still en route. Their caravans were protected by special details of militia. The Earthman Marines were giving logistical support. And it didn't hurt that their huge tanks and patrols had eliminated the raider bands close to the city.
Today marked the second set of meetings—Aha heard people using the Earth word "conferences" between Kasuf and Nakeer. The pre-Convention connection between the two tribal leaders was the cause of much of the euphoria in town. If the chief Elders finally decided to get things done...
Aha's command reached the market square before the hall of the Elders. There he found another contingent of militia, this one recruited from the farming communities. The two groups would form the security detail for the front of the building and serve as an honor guard for the tribal leaders meeting inside. All the guard posts in the area would be manned by mixed bands from the major factions.
Aha grinned as he recognized his opposite number in command of the other squad, a big, stolid farmer named Perre.
"What kept you city boys?" Perre inquired with pointed good nature. "You get lost in all these streets?"
"Nah," Aha joshed back. "We just don't get up with the crack of dawn like farmers. What do you do, getting up that early? Get naughty with the mastadges?"
The kidding had been an important social lubricant between the different tribal units thrust into working together. Miners screwed rocks, farmers had to be told to wipe mastadge shit off their sandals.
Aha and his men didn't mind the humor. In fact, he'd been a bit surprised at Perre's inventiveness in the subject of good-natured abuse.
Despite the farmboy's pointed reference to the time, both contingents were early. Aha let his men fall out and talk with the members of the other unit.
Soon enough, though, the men fell into formation and marched through the changing of the guard.
Once their people were on post and ready, Aha and Perre fell into conversation again.
"So," the farmer asked, "you think we'll see any... Earthmen today?"
He'd grown very careful pronouncing the foreign word, having quickly learned that "Urt-man" was the hick's term for the strangers who had come through the StarGate.
"We'll probably see Daniel turning up," Aha replied. "He's usually around Kasuf."
"Ah, him," Perre said dismissively. "He's just like one of us, anyway."
Aha broke into a crack of laughter. "Ha! How nice of you to notice. Most of you shitkickers came here thinking that Urt-men were nine feet tall and covered with hair all over, like mastadges."
Score one for the city boys.
"Nah, the Earthmen look like people. There's just some of them I'd like to look at more than others." Perre had a glint in his eye as he leaned toward Aha. "That hot little brunette we saw yesterday with the Earthman warrior. What did they call her? Babrazhor?"
"These Earth types have two names," Aha said. "Don't ask me why. But I know the one you mean. She's called Barbara. And she's supposed to be pretty hot stuff—pretty free with her hands, if you know what I mean."
The two men snapped to attention as a procession arrived at the square. Nakeer was staying at Kasuf's house, but the two leaders were holding their meetings in the official place of government.
Kasuf wore the formal red robes of the miners. Nakeer wore the green traditionally associated with his tribe. To Aha's eyes, the color seemed especially brilliant against the drab dun walls of Nagada.
Aha and Perre both saluted as the leaders left their honor guards and entered the building. The door guards snapped to action, pulling the portals open.
The big shots entered, the honor guard marched off, and life returned to business as usual.
Perre resumed their earlier conversation. After all, a good-looking woman was always pleasant to talk about. "Come on, city boy. Tell me more about this Barbara."
Aha happily passed along the barracks gossip on the flamboyant Dr. Shore. "You were lucky to see her in that blue outfit. Usually when she comes to town, she wears this baggy white thing that's almost like a tent." He lowered his voice. "Once, though, I saw her leave it open..."
"Get out!" exclaimed a scandalized Perre.
"Well, she had clothes under it—sort of. Some kind of white thing that covered her up to the neck—but it was tight across the breasts. And you could see her legs—up to here!"
Aha used his hand to indicate the thigh height of the doctor's shorts. Considering that they saw their women either robed or nude, it made for an exotic story. Perre begged for more.
"Most of the Earthers speak only a couple of our words," Aha went on. "But Barbara can sure curse and swear! For her feast of welcome she wore one of our robes and sandals. She stubbed her toe coming in here and muttered something that made Kasuf jump!"
Perre laughed appreciatively. "I wouldn't mind if she made me jump," he said. "Looks to me like it would be agreeable work."
"Sure," Aha scoffed. "I bet she'd be eager to play cow-mastadge to your bull."
"Give me a chance to find out about that hairy all over story," Perre said with a coarse laugh.
"Dream on, soldier."
"Anything's possible," Perre argued. "That Daniel yellow-hair wound up with Kasuf's daughter, didn't he? It's only fair that a worthy Abydan win an Earth-woman." He grinned. "Hey, I feel worthy."
"Then who am I to stand in the way of such an admirable quest?" Aha laid it on thick. "Go forth! And if you fail, I shall try—for the honor of Abydos!"
"I like that," Perre said. " 'For the honor of Abydos.' "
Their chuckling was abruptly cut off by the sound of gunfire—from within the hall.
Aha whipped around, ordering his second in command to hold the front of the building while detailing a section to accompany him inside. Perre was doing the same.
The mixed group burst inside, rifles at the ready. Aha's hands were sweaty on his weapon as he led the way to the feasting room, where the two leaders had intended to breakfast and discuss strategy.
Nakeer lay facedown on a pile of pillows, blood and brains soaking into the rich fabrics. Kasuf sat up amid a sort of throne of pillows. Aha's heart leapt, thinking his leader might be all right. Then he saw the wet stain across the chest of Kasuf's red robe.
The clatter of a door latch tore the attention of the two squad leaders from the still figures to the far end of the large room. A cowled figure in drab Abydan homespun leapt through the doorway into the darkness beyond. As he did, however, the escaping man's hood fell down... to reveal a shock of brilliant yellow hair.
Aha swore by several highly indecorous parts of Ra's anatomy.
"Urt-man bastard!" Perre roared. "He's killed Nakeer!"
Automatic fire from both men's rifles tore the heavy wooden portal as it swung shut.
With the hood of his robe up, Daniel Jackson hurried along through the streets of Nagada, tugged along by the clutch of a firm, warm hand. His mind was full of misgivings. The careful campaign to keep his relations with Faizah formal and public had crashed and burned this morning. She'd appeared in his office, literally rousted him out of his makeshift bed, and hauled him off to this unfamiliar quarter of the city.
Daniel's attempts to stop their headlong rush had gained him an incoherent, fragmentary story. If he understood the breathless tale, Faizah had overheard some compatriots of the Freedom party planning to disrupt the Convention.
"It's the extremists," she panted. "They say you're behind it all—we'll wind up with an Earth government."
"They'll have a chance to make their comments, like anyone else," Daniel said stupidly as they darted down a narrow, crooked alleyway.
"Our moderates have already signed up for that." Faizah's reply was overshadowed by the rattle of gunfire in the distance. "But these ones—I'm afraid they'll try to stop things before they even begin!"
Daniel grew more worried. Something was up. The gunfire was a dead giveaway. Maybe he shouldn't be stumbling into this situation weaponless, with only a girl to back him up. A company of Skaara's militiamen would be handy.
The headquarters of the Freedom faction lay in a ruinous adobe dump that made Daniel and Sha'uri's hole in the wall look palatial by comparison.
A trio of young men sat on threadbare pillows, eating dried fruit and bread as they conversed tensely. If they were into mayhem, they seemed only in the planning stages. Daniel noticed no weapons or guards present. Seeing the food, however, reminded him that he'd been shanghaied without even a taste of breakfast.
The tallest of the three conferees leapt up when Faizah burst through the door, yanked Daniel in, then latched the portal closed.
"Faizah!" the young fellow exclaimed, brushing spilled pillow stuffing off the rear of his robe. "What are you doing here?"
The guy looked like a younger, bearded, less nourished version of Gary Meyers. His eyes got wider as Daniel let down his hood, revealing his blond hair.
"And what in Ra's name are you doing here—with him?" the horrified leader of Freedom demanded.
"Djutmose, I had to bring him." Faizah was almost sobbing.
"Look, Djutmose," Daniel said, "I've worked too hard planning things for you to crash in and start wrecking it all."
He leaned in hard, thrusting his face nose to nose with the young man.
Djutmose recoiled as if Daniel were radioactive. "Crash in?" he gobbled. "Wreck it all?" With a visible effort he pulled himself together. "Earthman, I want no part of your plans."
"Ifs not for me, ifs for Abydos," Daniel said. "Can you guarantee you won't go near Kasuf and Nakeer?"
"Why should I want to do that?" Djutmose stared at him, obviously afraid. "Especially after what you did to them!"
Daniel finally realized they seemed to be engaged in two different conversations. "Ammit eat you!" he swore in Abydan, "what are you talking about?"
A pale-faced Djutmose pointed to one of his companions. "Kasara just came in with the news."
Kasara ducked as if he expected to be shot.
Djutmose spoke in very gentle tones, the way one would talk to a raging psychopath. "Nakeer and Kasuf have both been killed. And you're being hunted as the murderer!"