With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
01:15 GMT +2?

"That is… Disturbing."

With no ability to use my rings, I can't assimilate things directly. My construct lanterns on the other hand can assimilate things just fine on their own, but since I can't boost them, they're stuck using either their mouths, or in Gary's case even slower fungal growths.

And the hydra heads are quite large.

"If you could do something about the death magic I've absorbed, I could do it quicker. I could probably even manage to convert the immortal head."

"Some part of me wants to try, but in all honesty my knowledge is not up to the task of manipulating the soul of one who is both living and dead at once."

"Could Lord Hades?"

"Perhaps, but given that he has forgotten that he ever married my mother, it would be difficult for me to get an audience."

I frown, surprised. "Wait, he's forgotten you?"

"Not precisely. He knows that we are related, but he grows puzzled when he cannot remember who my mother is. And since he is not inclined to behave like... Like my uncle Zeus, that leaves a rather puzzling question as to where I come from. He appears to resolve it by forgetting about me whenever possible."

"Oh. Ah, sorry."

"If you had done it while I was in Africa it would not have been a problem, but I am supposed to be acting as a judge."

"How is their relationship actually progressing?"

"Initially, it went well. Then this.. Anti-Life infected the susceptible and we were forced to block our links to the Earth. She has been feeling confined and she is ignoring Father as a 'punishment' for confining her."

"Ah. Well." A giant reptilian severed head construct appears next to me. "Sorry. We'll have to try and get this sorted out-"

The immortal head goes berserk! It rocks back and forth, undulating what little neck it has left in an effort to move towards… Me? Zagreus? The rope strains, the-.

Zagreus puts an arrow through each of its eyes. That doesn't stop it squirming, but it does reduce its coherence.

"-quickly. Are we..? Just dealing with Akhlys?"

Who was enhanced by divine cybermancy, can bestow all of the misery human life can bring with a touch and is now channelling the Anti-Life. 'Just' Akhlys is still a pretty big deal-.

"Alas-."

"Wait. I just realised something." He keeps watching the immortal hydra head, as the blood drips back into its wounds and the eyes reknit themselves. "What we did to purge the world of the Anti-Life should have propagated throughout the Earth's entire thaumosphere. Akhlys is connected to that; she's a goddess, she has to be. Why is she still-?"

She's got an connection independent of Mannheim. She's channelling it directly. And that… I don't have a potential Red Lantern even if I wanted to try purging her with the white light of life, and I can't bring other Lanterns here anyway. Dr. Mist might be able to get here on his own-.

"I assume it's because her misery is so great that she does not need anyone else to show it to her."

"The titans?"

He nods. "One of her objectives. She appears to pursue them haphazardly. And Diana's.. nature, makes her able to counter her misery-inducing ability."

My eyes lock onto him. "Please tell me that Diana hasn't undergone apotheosis."

He frowns. "That worries you?"

"It-. I know that she'll become a goddess eventually, I just don't want it to have happened already."

"No. King Hephaestaean has granted her the mantle of a goddess, but he has done so in the form of an artefact which she can remove."

"Good. Returning to the subject of Akhlys, do you still have access to the gate to the Dream?"

"Another of her targets, but yes. She nearly breached it once, and the land on the far side was… Rendered unclean." He braces himself. "Why did you ask?"

"I need to lose this death aura thing to make my rings work again. And we need to do something to Akhlys to break her connection to the Anti-Life. The easiest way to do that involves manipulating the Dream."

"That's the easiest-?"

"Unless you've got another copy of the Sword of the Fallen, yes."

Or…

"How…? Insensible is she?"

"She has always sounded coherent to me. I would say more so than when she was suffering the full force of her own domain. Why does that matter?"

"I thought I could try talking her down."

"Great Nyx, preserve us."

"Does that mean 'good idea' or-?"

"How? How would you talk down a goddess who has the opportunity to spread her essence to all people of the heavens and the Earth?"

"I thought that I'd ask her politely, find out through discussion why she was acting the way she is and try and get her to see that whatever her ultimate objective-."

"I was honestly hoping that you would seduce her as you did my sister."

Huh? I mean, it's nice to know that despite everything he holds me in high enough regard that the idea of my seducing Melinoë hasn't resulted in us having a fight. Particularly now. But…

"I haven't seduced Melinoë. Last time I saw her I nearly got her killed."

"She talks about you as a person. You have brought her domain to the masses, who for some reason are grateful-."

"They were pretty unusual people anyway."

"And she speaks of you as a maiden interested in courting a man speaks of one who has her interest."

"Actually, I should probably try and speak to her while I'm here. But I'm not trying to seduce her-. Or rather, I haven't been since she turned me down the first time we met. And I won't try and seduce Akhlys either."

"Why not? If it ends the living nightmare she has bound her slaves in, your fidelity is a small price to pay."

"Objectively yes, but I'm an Orange Lantern and I don't want to betray Jade. So where do we look for her?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

About Ten Years Later
Local Summer
Morning

Bastet removes the stopper from the bottle and cautiously sniffs its contents. She appears pleased with what she smells, but goa'uld aren't particularly expressive… Unless they're angry. She glances at a youth in her retinue, and he takes the bottle from her and pours her a small amount into one of the tasting glasses.

No. He doesn't pour her a small glass. He's her food tester. He observes it for a moment, takes in the clarity and the scent, and then cautiously tastes it.

"A not-unreasonable precaution, but do you really think it's likely that I'd try something like that?"

She artfully raises her left eyebrow, her eyes glowing white for a moment.

"Some of us are Supreme System Lord Ra's loyal vassals."

It's… Interesting. I can detect the parasite wound around her spine and plugged into her brain, but… While I'm far from being an expert with the orange light, it… Looks like the desires are coming from the human brain and not the far smaller brain in the parasite.

"I admit, I let my greed get the better of me. But I will work to regain.. a measure of Lord Ra's faith, however long it takes."

She kept me waiting for three days, not including the time it took for Lord Neper to pass on the fact that a trade treaty with a goa'uld not sworn to Bastet would require her approval. For an egomaniacal parasite, Neper is actually pretty good company, as the source of his power is the food grown on his bountiful planet and he has a genuine interest in improved farming techniques.

Some of the others have been… Less helpful.

But if Bastet actually approves this trade treaty, that's her whole sub-empire. And she can put me in touch with Kali, who rules an equivalent area. And their capitals are the only places with any non-'magical' industry at all, and that's what I desperately need to copy.

The weird voice thing takes some getting used to.

"If Supreme System Lord Ra did not kill you, then it must be because he did not want you dead. I would not question his wisdom, though if you had been my tithe-gatherer I would not have been so generous."

I fan open my arms as her food tester nods to her before moving on to the fruit.

"I freely admit to deserving what he did to me. I acted against him without provocation. He honoured me and I spat in his face. It was a most humbling lesson, and one which I will never need repeated."

"So now you have made a new life for yourself… As a merchant."

"I can hardly expect our fellow gods to believe that I've learned my lesson if I'm not prepared to humble myself, can I?"

I've also learned that the jaffa are humans with underdeveloped parasites implanted in a synthetic pouch in their abdomen. Bastet appears to use their women exclusively as her soldiers, though their menfolk have the same modification. I'm not sure what the reason for using female soldiers is; much like unaugmented humans they're weaker and more fragile than their male counterparts. I suppose that it's probably a question of style. And perhaps their parasite allows them to remain fertile for proportionally longer so that their birth rate isn't too badly harmed?

I wait patiently as Bastet and her food taster slowly work their way around my samples. Her bodyguards remain assiduously po-faced, and the other members of her retinue either hover around awaiting their mistress's pleasure or perform their designated tasks. My own retinue are either back in the suite I was granted for my stay or just outside; my status as a petitioner is entirely too low for me to be allowed to have anyone in here, but she didn't actually expect me to set up the display myself.

Eventually she waves her servers off, lounging more languidly on her chaise longue.

"Your meagre wares are of adequate quality."

I nod and smile. "I am working from a low starting point. It will improve in time."

"I have no need of anything that you have myself, but I will grant you a warrant to trade amongst my inferiors."

"You are most generous. I will not disappoint you, and perhaps in time-."

A functionary almost bursts into the room, hurrying into Bastet's presence. She glares at him, but he just ducks his head and keeps coming. One of her bodyguards opens the odd claw weapon covering her right hand, but the man just bows to his goddess, walks right up to her-

Eavesdrop.

-and whispers-

"Ra is dead."

-to her. Her eyes widen for a moment, her entire body tensing. I'm too low down the 'god' totem pole to have any direct contact with the Supreme System Lord, but… The goa'uld don't have children. Between switching hosts and their healing technologies, they aim to live on indefinitely. Valued subordinates are about as close as they get, and while I've heard of a few who might try and keep Ra's holdings together… They're not the Supreme System Lord. Like him or hate him, he kept their civilisation more or less together as a unified whole.

If he's actually dead. Faking his death to see what happens doesn't sound like something someone as concerned for appearances as most goa'uld would do. But maybe he's cut from a different cloth?

Either way, there shouldn't be any impact on my own planet. We don't have any strategic resources or military power to be worth fighting. At worst I'll have to deal with different goa'uld flying up to the planet, demanding that I swear allegiance and then flying away again. While in theory I could use that as an opportunity to acquire ships for myself -I've mocked up a capital ship-style shield and breaking through it with a power ring isn't that difficult- that would probably just make me a target unless I have somewhere to hide them.

Bastet's eyes move to me as her face returns to Resting Smug.

"A matter requires my attention. My seneschal will see you later to inform you of the terms of your warrant of trade."

I bow to just above the right angle. "I shall look forward to it."

I remain bowed until she makes a dismissive hand motion, and then I turn and stride towards the exit. A couple of male jaffa pull the doors open at my approach, and close it definitively once I'm through. My assistants fall in behind me as I stride back towards my suite.

Techno-primitivism is such a pain. Goa'uld electronic systems are easy to get into by power ring, but because they're 'magic' most people use spoken or written words instead. Those are far harder to access without being extremely obvious about it, and I can't afford to make any goa'uld angry with me in particular.

Still…

Ring. Passive monitoring.

…certain?

She's using that room's communication system. That room's communication system with its nicely monitorable electromagnetic transmissions.

Ra's ship was overdue to return. Heru'ur dispatched a ship to investigate and began assembling his fleet the moment it returned. I will send a cloaked ship to confirm for myself, but I felt that notifying you should take priority.

No constant grovelling? That's either a human spy that's very close to her, or a lesser goa'uld.

Send the ship. Discover what happened and who did it. And keep watching Heru'ur.

As you command.

I cause the doors to my suite to open, causing the helmeted jaffa standing guard to start very slightly. I don't look at them as I walk past.

"Pack up, everyone. I want to leave the moment the warrant is in my hand. Things are about to become turbulent."

 

[Mr Zoat]

About Three Years Later
Afternoon

That… Wasn't fun.

Goa'uld tend to be… Strong-willed and domineering. Fine. No one who poses as a god is going to be shy and retiring. But there's a difference between someone like Bastet, who is a pretty decent autocrat within the technological limits which goa'uld set for themselves, and Am-heh.

Am-heh is not a good ruler.

Take criminal justice. On Bastet's throneworld Bubastis, most criminal investigations are handled by trained jaffa, and most punishments are corporal. Depending on the crime the perpetrator might be placed in the stocks or flogged. Murder, grave-robbing and corruption tend to result in execution by decapitation. Bastet actually gave me a lecture on the Ma'at Code, and she has some pretty strong feelings on order and sanctity. She strongly encourages her underlords to use a similar system, and she appeared genuinely pleased when I asked if I could borrow some of her investigators to train my own.

It was the most unguarded response I've seen from her.

On Syrania I've moved things away from floggings in favour of penal labour, but we don't really have the infrastructure for 'modern' rehabilitation. And… I'm reminded of the Tom Strong comic where he first leaves the island where he was born. For a moment he's surprised that a criminal subculture exists, but then he thinks about it and realises that it's a viable way to make a living in a city. Unlike the small island where he grew up and everyone knows everyone else and there isn't that much property to steal anyway. We just don't have a lot of crime.

Am-heh appears to consider it a bad day if he hasn't been able to throw a dozen people in the rock crusher. The slightest offence, the slightest step out of line, and he will gladly burn out the poor unfortunate's central nervous system with his kara kesh. Something I personally watched after a server failed to maintain his calm when Am-heh looked at him. The city-. Or rather, the town where he maintains his palace was liberally decorated with impaled and crucified corpses and the people moved like automatons when in public, afraid to look aside in case that was taken as cause for offence.

He actually required that I walk to his capital from the stargate without any retinue at all, and I suspect that it was only Bastet's letter of introduction that saved me from a strip search at the hands of his jaffa. But… The trip was… Technically successful. I now have a 'known' source for naquada, in exchange for supplying his desolate wasteland of a home with part of the food they require just to live here.

I didn't dare risk offering him better mining tools.

The village nearest the stargate is a little more upbeat than his captial, at least as long as I stop my eyes from glowing too much. They frequently receive trade caravans through the gate, and as a result they are a little more personable and a bit less… A bit less beaten. They still make themselves scarce when the jaffa garrison show up to escort a convoy to the capital, and…

And… I… Know perfectly well that I could kill Am-heh. I have a power ring, after all. I could probably ram my way through his defences, and if that was a bit too direct I could shoot him with an energy bolt on one of his few public appearances. But that would alert Bastet, and… She knows where Syrania is. Well, she knows the stargate address. It might take her a while to locate it with ships, but those symbols are constellations and I've seen her star charts. She definitely has the ability to narrow down my location enough to send a fleet.

Or should I..? Ask her? Is that how it works? Get permission from the System Lord to deal with an underlord who they aren't keen on? He's got a decent fleet and he's her empire's main source of naquada, which I imagine is why she hasn't forced the issue so far. Suppressing technology is one thing, but refusing to implement your boss's social policy and providing them with less tribute as a result might be more significant. I don't-.

I stop, blinking. Then I don't look at the group of four robe-wearing travellers I just walked past. Instead, I walk over to a stall selling some sort of fried tuber and focus.

Glasses do exist in Bastet's domain, but they're not common and a travelling merchant wouldn't wear them out in the open unless he was nearly blind. Two people with glasses, one of them a woman? And from the way they were looking around, they aren't frequent visitors.

Scan, and hope I'm about to get lucky.

Yes. Thank you, Jim diGriz.

I pay for the nearly-chips and turn away from the stall, heading towards the out of place visitors at a quick walk.

"Excuse me!"

Two turn, one glances at me and then looks around and the last keeps looking in the direction he had been heading in.

"Are you, er…" The closest man points to himself. "Talking to us?"

"Yes! I was hoping to speak to you about-."

"Look." The man who didn't turn around does so now, facing me. "Whatever you're selling, we're not buying it. We're just getting the lay of the land. So if you'll excuse us?"

"Funny thing, about people from industrial worlds." He remains where he is. "When they start burning coal in large quantities, quite a lot of radioactive material gets released. It's not to dangerous degrees, but it is noticeable."

"Oh?"

I take a step closer and lower my voice. "And if they've actually used fission weapons in their atmosphere, it's more noticeable still." The woman works out what I'm implying first, and glances at the… Well, he's a squad leader, isn't he?

"That sounds interesting." He doesn't seem concerned. "That sounds like an advanced weapon."

I nod. "Quite hard to make."

"Do you think a society like that would have other advanced weapons as well?"

"Probably."

"So do you think that bothering someone from a society like that might not be the best idea?"

Right. He has no reason to think that I am who I am. But-. Happy as I am to see them I don't know for sure that they come from Earth as opposed to a different advanced human world. The goa'uld don't rule everywhere that humans live, after all. And if they're committed to being unfriendly then I don't really want them to know who and what I am, because what they don't know they can't share. I've got a… Feeling that the secretive parts of the government are just going to want to come and take my planet away from me, and that's… Not acceptable. So… Goa'uld reformer? That will do for now.

I flare my eyes. "I'd live. Look-."

Three guns come up from under their robes, while the woman backs off before belatedly drawing her pistol as the travellers around us scatter, stall-holders duck and shop-keepers close their doors. I think I… Vaguely recognise those guns from Earth, but-. Ring, translation off.

"Still think you'd live?"

I know that accent. I glance in the general direction of the gate. "Given that I have a personal force field? Yes. Do you think that you would if the garrison heard you firing those? Am-heh is one of the few gods who actually guards his gate."

"What d'you want?"

"A private conversation on my own world. Then you're free to return to…" Another smile from me, but this time a little more sinister. "Whatever part of the United States of America you come from."

Because the chance of a group of people speaking modern English not coming from Earth is so small I don't know how to calculate it. Modern English only goes back a few hundred years before the thees and thous start creeping in, and American accents have only existed for… Three hundred years or so?

The leader's eyes narrow, but he lowers his gun, which prompts the others to do the same. Because me knowing that name is a bigger deal than spotting them. Ultimately, if they die then all that happens is that this planet would get marked down as 'dangerous' by whatever part of the US military is carrying out this exploration program. But if someone out here has a way of getting information on Earth, that might mean that Earth is in danger.

They need to investigate.

I half-turn away and raise my right hand, waving it at the people watching us from their places of shelter. "Just a misunderstanding! Just a misunderstanding! Nothing to worry about!"

I'm not sure that they believe me, but the soldiers hide their weapons again. One of them leans a little closer to the squad leader. "Sir, if we're going, we should go."

The squad leader considers me for a moment. "Yeah. Lead the way."

 

[Mr Zoat]

An hour later
Afternoon

The woman blinks. "Is that a train?"

I nod. "Yes."

It is indeed a train. Some goa'uld allow their people to have steam engines for various tasks, not wanting to go to the bother of arranging a logistics train for a more advanced type of engine or motor. Naturally they're not designed to be copied or maintained by the humans operating them, so they're quite a lot more complicated than the one built for the Rocket. But it can run on wood -something which we have plenty of- and it makes travel dramatically easier.

It's not even -technically- a forbidden technology. Humans in goa'uld space use more advanced machines than that all the time. The issue is that I've taught people how it works. That I've explained the operating principles. That I have humans building more without reference to me. I'm sure that Bastet's had a report by now, but in my hands I doubt that it's disruptive enough for her to do anything about. Her own capital has anti-gravity trams, so maybe this just seems quaint, or like 'Mammon' is trying to reclaim some part of his former greatness in a pathetically primitive way. Or perhaps they didn't bother investigating in depth. I don't know.

The squad on guard duty at the stargate form up before me and salute… Roman style. I respond in kind and really hope that none of the squad are Jewish, because along with pencil moustaches and the name 'Adolf', Hitler really ruined that for everyone.

They lower their hands. "Lord Mammon, was your journey successful?"

"Yes, Corporal Sargat, it was. We shall have naquada, and if I can find time we shall shortly after have our first flying ships. It will make transporting goods across Syrania far easier."

He nods. "That is excellent news, Lord. Do you require an escort for your guests?"

"No, I'll take them to the palace myself. As you were."

"Lord."

He about-faces, and his squad disperse back to their stations. Behind me I observe the woman open her mouth, then awkwardly glance at her squad leader and close it again.

"Ask him."

"Lord.. Mammon?"

"That's my name. Don't wear it out."

"That was… Most 'gods' prefer-."

"It's okay, you can say 'goa'uld'."

"Ah… Yes. Most goa'uld are… More formal."

"It's okay, you can say 'crazed egotists'." I turn to their squad leader. "Have you completed your initial observations?"

He makes eye contact with the other two soldiers and receives very small nods in return. "Sure. We taking the rail?"

"No." I raise my left fist into the uppercut position. "We're flying."

A hemispherical orange bubble appears around us and lifts us into the air, prompting a brief moment of unease amongst the soldiers, and…

"Dear lady, you appear somewhat less martial than your colleagues."

"Ah, yes." She calms herself as we fly across the city. "I'm primarily an anthropologist."

Their squad leader glowers at her mildly. "Doctor."

She doesn't seem to notice. "This is the first time I've seen a goa'uld planet with an industrial-age technology base."

"Ah." I nod. "You probably haven't seen the throne worlds of the System Lords. Even with the technology restrictions, they can be fairly advanced. It's really only the more backwards underlords that get super sensitive about it."

The squad leader gives me a level look. "You look like an underlord."

I nod. "I am one. But I was once an important functionary under Ra. Before Colonel O'Neil killed him with a naquada-enhanced fission bomb." I smile at the anthropologist. "I hope that they've given you better training on information control than Doctor Jackson had. While he was on Abydos he was quite free with information about his home."

The squad leader winces. "Damnit."

I wave my right hand. "Oh, don't worry, I don't know where it is, and I'm not going to expect you to do anything stupid like dial home directly from my stargate-."

The squad leader gives me a small smile. "Our gate is protected."

"Good for you! It's amazing how few people do that. Do you rotate it ninety degrees upwards so everything falls back into the event horizon, or ninety degrees downwards so that everything falls into an oubliette? I prefer that one, because it still stops armies but it means that if you get some child prank-dialling your gate they don't die like they would if you used a force field barrier or something like that."

There's a brief pause.

"Something like that."

"What really gets me is the way some people just leave them lying around in a warehouse or something. 'Top men', you know? Just asking for trouble."

"Uh-huh. So about you not being a god…"

I smile. "Finally annoyed you, did I? You aren't obliged to call me that, but... Look. We're flying over a city that worships me in a bubble I created as an act of will. I've never claimed to be all-powerful but I suggest to you that I'm a better fit for the term 'god' than anything you've previously encountered. Am I wrong?"

"I'm Jewish."

I wince inwardly. And then outwardly. "Might want to stay away from El's core worlds, then. Anyhow." We descend onto the palace's landing area. The building doesn't look like much from the air, but the lower levels connect directly to the top of the buried Cheops. I dismiss the shield as we land, though only the squad leader manages to land without being rendered momentarily unsteady. "Alright, no one else comes up here. What do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"I doubt that you were exploring the gate network for fun or xenoanthropology. I'm a God of Trade. What are you looking for?"

"A map of Apophis's territory."

"I've got one, but it's about a hundred years out of date, and borders have changed a lot since your people killed Ra."

God, I've been here… Thirteen years now? Just finding my feet and doing the place up…

"Naquada. Since you've got a supplier now."

"Ah, I've got plenty, I just don't want the others finding out about my actual source. Sure, I can trade you what I'll be getting from Am-heh."

That gives him momentary pause. "And what do you want in return?"

"Teachers. Send all the spies you like, as long as they can teach reading and writing -preferably in Akkadian- and arithmetic, and basic science."

"We don't sell people."

"No, but you have recruitment agencies. And I'm sure that your government is doing that stupid thing of pretending that they don't have a stargate and that them using it totally isn't going to blow up in their faces and get them invaded by us, which I'm sure won't annoy the other countries of your planet at all... Which means that anyone who comes here will have to be vetted, so… You might want to get started on that. Anything else you want?"

"I think that'll do for now. Thanks."

"Excellent!" I smile. "Would you like a tour before you go home?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
01:33 GMT +2?

I can smell the floral scent of its trees before I see the river separating the proletarian afterlife from the Elysian Fields. Now that I think about it… It strikes me as a little odd that Hades' palace isn't there. The Silver City isn't located in Purgatory or Dis, it's in Heaven. But Hades' palace is closer to the Punishment Fields than to the final destination of the most legendarily heroic souls in Greek mythology.

Zagreus and I are flying there on two construct lantern hydra heads. I was worried that they wouldn't obey me, but we don't appear to be having a problem as long as the construct lantern who assimilated them issues the orders. I haven't gained their knowledge as yet, but once my rings are back in working order I can just destroy one manually to get that. I should at least be able to tell Donna the truth of Herakles' fight with it.

"Are we sure that I'm allowed in here?"

"Father seriously considered sending you here when you die just to keep you out of the way."

"I don't think I'd be happy here. Not enough problems to fix."

"You would experience as many problems as you wanted."

"But not real ones."

"But you wouldn't care unless you wanted-. Ah." He shakes his head. "I underestimated how task-focused you are. Why didn't you take Hephaestus as your main patron rather than Eris?"

"Differentiation. There are plenty of other superheroes who are hard-working. There aren't a lot who fundamentally change civilisation. Or…" I frown as I consider the last couple of years. I mean, I tried, but Mannheim and Tenebrae both outstripped me. Proving that it's easier to destroy than create, I suppose. "Superman might, if we can stop having disasters for five minutes and he doesn't bottle out." I chuckle. "I suppose that Momus was a viable-"

"He is with Akhlys now."

"-alternative-. Ah. Well, I… I suppose that I didn't expect to be pitted against authority quite this much. And saying 'Momus' directly to Hippolyta would have been a bit insulting."

"Few took his words in the spirit in which they were intended. One god to keep our egos in check and no one listened to him."

"The author Sir Terence Pratchett wrote that gods are mortals writ large. It's hard to hear your worst attributes described so bluntly."

…

"I'm waiting for it."

"I just hope that when I'm seven thousand years old I'm better at it than all of you are."

He reaches down and pats his hydra head. "How do I make this thing go?"

I pat Gary on the shoulder. "Forward, if you please."

"Yes, Master."

The heads fly forward, passing over the river of… Nectar? Which marks the boundary. And beyond that is bountiful farmland, fruitful at no effort to the inhabitant… Ssss…

"That's not supposed to be on fire, is it?"

"No it is-."

CRASH! And he's gone, something slamming into his construct lantern at high speed and knocking it out of the-.

Agh!

Destroying the construct lantern and sending it back to my ring.

"Gary, spore cloud!"

"Yes, Master."

A cloud of orange light-.

"And take evasive action!"

"Yes, Master." We drift to the right. "Sorry, Master. Fungus don't usually have to move fast."

I look down as the orange dust spreads. Zagreus is fighting off… A flying centaur? No, a man on a flying horse. Pegasus, and Bellerophon. Bellerophon, who was killed by Zeus for trying to fly up Mount Olympus. And then Zeus used Pegasus as a pack horse… Which I suppose explains why he's not still doing that. But why is he-?

Why is he wrapped in thorns-?

Agh..!

Anti-Life. She got to-.

An arrow embeds itself in Gary's chest, where his heart would be if he was human.

"Ow."

Two more arrows hit him, piercing both of the blank holes where his eyes would be. Ah, work out the angles…

"Send the heads down, by that copse of trees."

"Yes, Mast-" An arrow appears in his mouth. "-ah."

The other heads floating behind us move, but they're not all that fast like this. I could make them faster, if I could use my ring to empower them. Similarly, the Ophidian could boost them but we're back in the vicinity of the Anti-Life so that's a non-starter as well.

I'm not equipped for melee, and I'm out of practice as a minion controller. I-. Huh.

I draw my cold gun and take aim in the general direction of down, careful to keep as much of my body as possible behind Gary.

I look back at the thrall construct lantern floating along behind us. "You. Help Zagreus."

"Yes, Master."

Looking down… Ah, can't really see. Gary's spore cloud didn't stop him getting hit by arrows, but there might be other arrows that I didn't see miss us. Though given the angles involved-.

"Gary, take us down. Ground level, just over the river."

"Yes, Master."

Which makes it harder to hit us with arrows. I could just shoot up Elysium with cold beams, but that's… I don't want to wreck my own afterlife if I can possibly avoid it. Or give away that I have that capacity.

"Anything from the heads?"

"They have not spotted our assailant, Master."

Praexis demons were so useful for things like this. This is honestly the first time I've missed-.

Gary goes flying off the hydra head and into the river as a lioness kicks off him and lunges for me!

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
01:36 GMT +2?

I flop back and kick, striking it-. Her? Clumsily in the chest. I don't push her back so much as push myself back, sliding off the hydra's head and onto its neck stump.

"Rah-ah-ah!"

The lion-woman swings her right claw at my flailing legs as I try and get up, but there isn't really anything to grip onto and I can't give the hydra head instructions without Gary-.

"Gary!"

The claw catches my leg armour and pulls me towards her without really penetrating, causing her to try grabbing me with her left claw. I fend her off with a kick to her face, but it's more an irritation than a serious strike.

Where did-? Damn it, lost the cold gun. I draw an x-ionised knife from my harness and swing it in her general direction in a warding gesture while trying to wrench my leg back out of her grip. No! Closer!

Her left claw slashes at my right forearm and I bring the knife back, getting a scratch along my vambrace in exchange for nicking her fur.

"Who are you?"

Not likely to get through to someone Anti-Lifed, but I should try.

"Rah-ah-ah!"

She leans down to bite at me, and I slash-. She grabs my right arm and drops-. Fuck! Ah, I get my left arm up and push her neck away with my forearm and her teeth chomp down an inch from my face and I still can't get-.

Roll!

"Gary!"

She's lighter than me and I manage to roll us left, but she's strong and she's slashing at me with four sets of claws while still trying to bite me! She snaps her teeth together-

Headbutt to the snout!

-as I stab my knife through her abdomen-.

She's a shade, she doesn't have blood!

Elbows, knees, hit her!

"Master."

She and I flail at each other for a moment as Gary plants himself on my back and lifts, getting me upright-

"Let go!"

-as the lioness scrambles to her own feet and lunges, mouth open again! Punch with left hitting side of jaw, raise arm to block slash from claws, swing knife at throat-.

AGH!

She slashed my gauntlet! Lost the knife and-. Armour's still whole, just-. Hurt.

Wait-. Lioness, Greek heroine-.

"Atalanta!"

She hesitates, and I punch her in the throat while drawing my revolver. That drives her back a little and gives me space to shoot her in the chest-.

BANG!

Ah! One handed shooting without power assistance! Other hand on the gun while she's reeling, fire again.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"What is it making you feel!?"

She recovers, shaking her head as she tries to shield her bullet wounds with her arms.

"Bbbeast."

"Hephaestaean can probably fix that. Or at least modify it. And a lot of m-. People like that look."

Granted, with a mouth like that she's firmly into the cat-end of the spectrum, but I've seen the internet-.

She glares at me. "Bbbeast!"

Okay, so it's more of an internal thing. "It's still fixable-."

"HKKKRRRR!"

She drops to a couch, stabbing-. Stabbing the hydra head through the right eye with her claws.

The construct evaporates, strands of orange light flowing back into my r-ring.

Simple, reptilian thoughts inside my head, sunlight good, wait for prey, hunt for prey and then cold, cold, nothing-.

AHH!

"Sorry, Master."

There's an arrow in my hand! It punches through my palm-! We're low enough that she could just grab her bow from where she landed-.

"Drop me, tackle-"

He lets me go.

"-her!"

Gary dives at her, spraying orange spores in her direction. I land with a thud, stagger and then check the arrow. Not barbed and doesn't look poisoned. Hand close to the ground, boot on the fletching end and stamp-.

Arrrrrrrrr…

Snapped off near the hand, pull it out. Don't have a healing ray anymore but I do have a small vial of healing potion. Half on the wound and half down my throat. It's healing, and I kept my revolver. Good. Gun up, listen to where the noises are coming from and hope that Gary doesn't end up back in my ring. Can't see Bellerophon or Pegasus or Zagreus and I don't want to shout. Equipment that will keep Atalanta down? I've got extra-resilient handcuffs. They'll have to do unless Zagreus can command the local undead.

Move. Eyes on the targ-.

Eyes everywhere tiny spores granting awareness to the greater whole-.

She got Gary and the spore cloud is vanishing. I should still-.

"Pavlos!"

Atalanta is kneeling, leaking dull grey fluid from her wounds as Akhlys strokes her head. Her cybernetics now sport the signature tronlines of New God technology, and her eyes-.

She's stroking Atalanta with her misery-inducing hand. The grey not-blood is leaking from Atalanta's eyes as well as her wounds.

"Are you here to stop me? To hurt me?"

This… Pistol isn't going to do anything to her. I lower it slowly.

"I want to try and free you from the Anti-Life. We did that to the Earth-."

"Foolish youth. Everyone feels sorrow. It's a natural part of life. Here." She lifts her hand off Atalanta and starts walking towards me. "Let me show you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
01:39 GMT +2?

"A little misery is a good motivator, but mortals aren't meant-" I back up, trying to keep out of her lunge-range. Or rather, to give me enough space to dodge, because Hephaestaean went all-out with that body and her lunge-range is probably about the horizon. "-to experience it all of the time."

"Mine are."

Prep one dose-. Can't do that, ring's not working.

"Is that your aim? Share it with everyone?"

"Then we can all be alike. All together."

"Why would we want to all be alike?"

She shakes her head. "It's not about wanting. It's about the comprehension of the underlying nature of existence. I want to bring people the same enlightenment that I experienced."

"What are you talking about? You hated your own suffering."

She smiles in a strangely… Unfocused sort of way. "I did. Until I no longer suffered, and could only look upon the suffering of others."

"Tell you what. If you break your link to the Anti-Life, give yourself a… While to recover, and still want it, I'll agree to join you. How about that?"

"Oh… Paul." She smiles in a slightly more… Well, slightly less unnatural way. "There is no going back."

I tried. I feel along my harness. Do I have any..? No, I stopped bothering with revolver-compatible mageslayer rounds a couple of my-equipment-has-been-completely-destroyed-agains ago. Her Anti-Life infection doesn't matter. She could kill me by pulling me apart.

"Construct lanterns, get her and tell the others to get her!"

"Another fight. They always fight."

No way to hurt her, no way to deprive her of resources, and… Ah. Limited ability to evacuate. The Gate of Dawn should be that way, on the other side of the Elysian Fields, and that would take me to Olympus proper.

I back up a little more, but she's walking towards me faster now.

If I can get there.

"Does the name 'Darkseid' mean anything to you?"

"A dilettante. He uses the Anti-Life but he doesn't understand it. He tries to puzzle it out from outside." She shakes her head sadly. "That doesn't work. You need to feel it to understand-."

A hydra head dives onto her, completely enveloping her with its mouth and shaking her around. I don't wait, I take a bearing and run, holstering my gun and tearing a smoke grenade off my harness as I go. Toss that, don't-. Don't have a magic disruptor of any kind but my tattoos might prevent her from sensing me.

"It."

Didn't make it that far before she got out and I'm not getting any sensory feedback from my construct lanterns. I need to get out of line of sight from her last location before I even think of doing anything else. I-.

Prey that fights back don't want to attack but must.

Another head gone back to the ring. Perhaps if time allows I should try and hunt down stronger things to assimilate? Not.. intelligent things, but there have to be some demons or feral monsters that no one will miss.

Keep running.

"…pleased to see you, Prince Zagreus."

I.. stop running.

Ah.

Turn around and start running again, gun out, and-. Ugh, don't shout, because if she caught Zagreus then there's a good chance that Bellerophon is still mobile. I could try hamstringing him, but I assume that a Greek hero who fought with sword and spear is probably better in melee than me.

So, plan is, get Zagreus on a hydra head and then get back to running. Though… As the god of hunting he's probably faster than me so maybe I should get on the head?

"No, you're not. I am sorry for what you have become-."

"Why? I'm so much more at one with my-"

Slow down, gun up, take aim and fire-.

BANG! BANG!

Hit to the chest does nothing, hit to the face… Doesn't do anything either. That's the Anti-Life at work, instinct suppressed in favour of more fatalism.

"I told you that I only offer suffering, and yet you came running back to me."

Zagreus is on his feet, but he's lost his bow and is down to a short sword. I don't know exactly how powerful he is, but I'd bet on Akhlys. No sign of Bellerophon, though Zagreus's clothes have a few feathers on them.

"Suffering for a cause isn't the same as suffering for its own sake. Zagreus, ideas?"

"This is the closest I've been to her. Usually I'd have fled already."

"And you haven't because..?"

"Broke my ankle. If I was further away from her it would have healed, but her connection to Erebos prevents it."

Akhlys starts walking towards him. I shoot her-

BANG!

-in the back of the head, but she doesn't react. Okay, stronger than me, probably not all that skilled. Holster the gun, take out another knife and-.

A golden mass slams into Akhlys and sends her tumbling across the countryside before righting herself. The golden figure-.
Truth
"The first time we met I really was staring at your muscles."

Well. I was.

Diana is wearing an upgraded version of the armour Ted Kord and Io made, the most notable improvement being the extended coverage granted by the helmet. She's still carrying the lasso, but it's augmented by a shield and sword.

"Orange Lantern. What brings you here?"

"The Earth is liberated, and you rather delayed your return."

"You see why."

"Yes. And-." Wait, I'm not actually dead. And her truth-related abilities have been boosted. "Could you lasso me for a moment?"

"I can. Do you have a solut..."

She trails off as warriors of ancient Greece approach us from all directions.

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
01:42 GMT +2?

"Work in progress."

"So many of our heroes died ignoble deaths. Gnawing at them, rotting them all from inside even as they ate the fruits those who killed them granted them as a pity-prize."

Diana tosses the lasso loop at me, and I grasp it in my left hand.

"Now ask me if I'm alive."

"Are you alive?"
Truth
"Yes!"

And suddenly I breathe-. It's like it's a little easier, though I don't know because my rings just fixed my minor injuries or if the death magic was suppressing my vitality.

Ring.

All functions available.

Yes!

Nineteen percent power remaining.

No-!

That's what I get for spamming construct lanterns and assimilation. But I couldn't have known that Diana would respond so fast.

Okay. Accelerate.

Take a small healing potion out of my harness and send it towards Zagreus. I don't know how fast it would heal a god, but it won't do harm and it might let him move. Next, call all construct lanterns not currently fighting something here but don't tell them to feed because I don't want to turn the greatest heroes of the Greek mythical era into constructs. As for removing Akhlys' Anti-Life connection… Truth doesn't help because the Anti-Life is true, and even if it wasn't true for the rest of us it's definitely true for her.

How to change that?

Break the lasso, reset the universe-. No.

Assimilate her. I'd rather not, and I don't think I have the power, and I don't want the Ophidian -or the entire Orange Lantern Corps- exposed to the Anti-Life.

Find the healing ray and shoot her with it.

Healing ray located.

Better than nothing, and doesn't risk erasing the universe. Start moving.

The original plan of opening the gate to the Dream-. I remember Dream's fight with… I don't remember his name, some demon who had one of his tools. 'I am hope' beat the 'I am Anti-Life', but that was a contest in Hell and we need to be a bit more literal.

Normal speed.

Zagreus gags as-.

"Swallow it. Diana, can you get to Earth?"

"Yes."

"Find Alan, get him to Sandman, have them enter the Dream and head for the gate to Erebos. Stay on that side of the gate."

An uncomfortable number of those dead and empty-eyed heroes have bows-.

Armour.

I'm not all that much safer, but power armour provides such a wonderful illusion. I raise my right arm, kinetic barrier triggering as the first archer get his head in the game enough to loose at me. A couple of the melee-armed heroes charge us, while the rest form up into a circular shield wall.

"And the dream of hope will be sufficient?"
Truth
"It's my best guess."

Akhlys looks at me curiously. "Dreams are not so powerful. They are fragile, ephemeral things."

First hero, look for wounds. Puncture to the back of the leg. Achilles, probably, though I suppose there could be hundreds of Greek heroes known to their contemporaries but lost to history who had wounds like that. I use a construct to knock his arm aside as he slashes at me, then slam my right palm into his face in an armour-boosted shove. His face feels.. harder than it should, his nose bending slightly but not breaking as he goes flying back into the throng. Invulnerability. In other circumstances I'd see how he measures up to Haroldson, see what magic let him survive touching the Styx as an infant. But we've all got bigger concerns at the moment.

Hydra heads and serfs appear from the skies and I send them after the shield wall. The heads slam into the shields and force them back, breaking their formation. Spears and swords seek them out, but the constructs are tough enough to hold out against mere mortal strength.

Diana is charged by an older shade with.. smashed ribs. Don't know who that is. I release the lasso and she swings it, loop slipping over his neck and pulling tight.

"Remember your glory, warrior!"
Truth

"I don't want to!" He raises his hands to the lasso and frantically tries to pull it off. "That makes it worse!"

"It is the only way it will ever stop!"

"I died alone and in exile, killed by my own ship! All of my friends and warriors slain due to my actions! That is the truth!"

The lasso loosens as Diana realises that it isn't going to work.

"Diana, seriously, just go. Get Alan."

She hesitates, then nods, flying over the shield wall and back towards the gateway. I just have to -appropriately enough- hope that she can get him on time.

Akhlys starts walking towards Zagreus, who hobbles a step back. I walk closer to her, again trying to keep out of lunging distance, but… I don't know, she's not hostile-hostile. She genuinely believes that Anti-Lifeing us is doing us some kind of favour. It might be possible to talk her around.

Maybe.

"Akhlys." She turns her head and… It's not that her expression is all that different from expressions Anti-Lifed humans had… But there's something about that combined with the cybernetics and the fact that she actually seems happier like this than she was when I first met her. "How would you like to visit the Dream?"

"I will visit all, in time. And I am not so deaf that I did not hear your plotting."

"Sure, I want you to stop, to go back to being a controller and not a customer. And you don't. But we both believe different things about the Anti-Life. Do you want to prove me wrong? Because if I'm wrong, you get access to the collective unconscious of all life without fighting. You can just walk through the gates. I'll open them for you."

"You don't understand. You-."

"Can't because I haven't felt it? Firstly, I have, and secondly…. Alright. I'll stand right next to you as we go through the gates. I can be the first person you Anti-Life. And it's the Dream; there's no better medium to show me exactly what you mean than the chaos of sentient imaginings."

"I am sure that you have some scheme in mind. But you are right. It would make things… Simpler."

"Zagreus told me that you tried to force the gates before. So you want to get through them. It's not going to get easier than walking in with someone holding them open. So why fight when what you want is yours for the taking?"

She smiles the same pained smile she had when I first failed to help her.

"You will be an excellent advisor when you come to terms with the Anti-Life. Come, let us depart."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Two months later
Evening

Bastet's face remains impassive, but with careful look I can see her desires easily enough. A brief careful look, because as a mildly puzzled Neper explained to me, leaving your eye glow on with other goa'uld isn't the done thing.

I.. Honestly? I wonder if the cinematic depiction of Ra was a… Cultural thing. Like, Americans hate the idea of being ruled by a monarch, and so have the villain be an alien monarch as a culturally accepted shorthand for 'this is the bad guy'. When in reality the Americans in the film are the ones who invaded his territory, stole from him and pretended to be him and to have the right to act with his authority. That might get you shot on Earth. And they're the ones who brought the nuke.

"And for this service, you would take Am-heh's world for yourself?"

"No, great lady. Since I am not sworn to you, taking the world would be entirely inappropriate. All I ask for is a modest increase in the quantity of naquada I am permitted to trade with whoever you install."

She nods slowly. Because I was right about her views on ma'at. Bastet isn't happy about Am-heh. Not because of his cruelty in itself, but because amongst goa'uld Am-heh's disorderly conduct is a warning sign. A sign that he's going mad, and is liable to lash out at other goa'uld even when that's a bad strategy. Unpredictable is bad, because you can't plan for it. You don't blame a shark for being a shark, but even sharks will get worried if one of the other sharks starts ramming the aquarium glass. The ability to maintain ma'at is a sign in Bastet's domain that you aren't mad, and he's decided that he doesn't need to.

And he failed to keep up his end of our trade agreement in record time, so now I've got an excuse.

"Am-heh's fleet is strong and his warriors are more afraid of him than any enemy. You do not have the forces to fight him."

And she does, but… It's not that simple. She needs a fleet covering her throneworld, and that's where a lot of the fleet that's controlled by her personally spends its time. She needs to patrol her territory, and send ships to warn uppity underlords not to try anything. She doesn't have a lot of slack, and she can't afford to use that slack for long periods of time. Most of the fleet Bastet commands in confrontation with other System Lords is actually the property of her various underlords, in true feudal style. In a direct fight against all of those underlords she would lose, so she has to take care in disciplining any of them.

"A single dagger may succeed where a thousand swords would fail. And if I fail…" I shrug. "I am not sworn to you. Should I fail, you can simply give Syrania to him, or to someone else."

"You intend to try personally? I had wondered where you had hidden so capable an assassin."

I smile. "I was not just a tithe-gatherer."

She makes a show of considering the issue, but I can see that her mind is made up.

"I agree that it would be convenient if Am-heh were no longer a concern."

I smile, and bow low.

Two hours later
Night

Normally I use a brilliantly glowing energy field when I fly.

But I don't have to. I can just put a small construct under my armour and lift myself. It's not comfortable or fun, but it's a lot easier to descend on an unsuspecting town like this. Am-heh doesn't have ships directly over his palace because he doesn't want to make it easy for them to bombard him, but they're not all that far away. They could move to intercept me, or try shooting from where they are, but their sensors aren't good at detecting things my size. Without a visual indicator, there's nothing to alarm them.

I land in an alley some distance from the palace, close enough that I can reach the palace with a construct and far enough away that it's unlikely to be patrolled.

Goa'uld pass information to their descendants genetically. The precise details are left to the queen who bears them, and I'm fairly convinced that the host brain has a role in decompressing them, but that's where it comes from. Even a monster like Am-heh was born knowing more about science and technology than the greatest scientist on Earth knows now.

I want that.

I sit against the wall, swaddled in a dark cloak to block out the light of the ring and the tiny borer construct that I send into the stone. I scanned the palace during my original visit so I know where he's likely to be. I've got about four hours until sunrise so I really need to be finished in three.

Get boring. Get me my guilt-free technology-piñata, because I am not intelligent enough to uplift a civilisation by myself and the goa'uld don't only because they don't want to.

Come on you little bastard.

Though… Huh. Goa'uld don't need to teach their offspring due to the genetic memory transmission. Maybe..? That's why it never occurs to them that educating humans might be a good idea. It's never been a drive that their species has needed.

Okay, there, in the room. Jaffa outside and automatic defences inside. That's a force field generator but he doesn't leave it on, perhaps because of the power it requires and perhaps because he's worried about suffocating. Keep digging, shifting tiny pieces of stone and wood out of the way without a sound.

And another thing. I need to find out… How much of a host survives in a goa'uld after having its brain used as a buffer for hundreds or thousands of years. Because…

I actually like Neper, who is happy to tutor and advise me and doesn't appear to want anything in return other than someone to talk to about his novel cultivars. Bastet is… As good a monarch as most I know from human history. Her realm is a whole lot more peaceful and law-abiding than even modern Earth, and the technology thing… It's a mixed bag when you consider how many people on Earth don't have access to advanced technology either. But if they're torturing people by locking them in their own bodies permanently… Then I'm going to have to work on that. Clones, maybe? Using condemned criminals doesn't work because becoming the vessel for a god is considered admirable. Perhaps alternate volunteers for year-long stretches?

I don't know. I need more information.

There we are. Am-heh's bed. Now, administer an anaesthetic or work fast? How avaricious is he?

Oh. … Really?

Well, darn. Alright then, fast it is. I jab a needle construct directly into the goa'uld Am-heh, piercing his serpentine body and stealing his identity almost immediately. Then I transfer goa'uld and host into the alley next to me.

Am-heh is staring blankly, his host's eyes glowing orange.

"I don't know if you can hear me, or how aware you are, but hang tight. It's nearly over, one way or another."

Two weeks later
Morning

Bastet looks at me a little more suspiciously than she used to.

"Lord Am-heh vanished from his bed two weeks ago."

I nod slowly, feeling quite… Off. Still. "That is convenient."

The way to get knowledge from a construct lantern is to pull them into your ring. I knew that before the mission, which is why I flew Umar and Passenger back to Syrania before trying it. And it turns out that getting hundreds of years of alien memories combined with the genetic memory going back to the dawn of their species' intelligence isn't so healthy for the human brain. I actually had to stick construct Am-heh in my body just to help regulate them.

But it worked. I now have the full goa'uld technological database, or at least as much of it as Am-heh knew about, which includes all of the basic stuff.

She considers me for a moment, then makes a flicking gesture with her right hand. Her staff immediately begin filing out, and her guards move to block the exits in their wake.

"His jaffa have accepted that I removed him for displeasing me, and have also accepted their new mistress. Lady Heset will need to properly establish her control and bring her world up to my standards, but once that is complete then you will have your increased naquada tribute. The delay. Were you injured?"

"Slightly, but it is of no concern."

Her gaze hardens.

"How did you manage it?"

Ah…

"I am aware of your work on Syrania. You have no doubt concluded that I do not care about your lax implementation of Ra's laws relating to technology. But this ability is above merely instructing humans on harnessing steam for mechanical power." Her eyes flare. "Explain this to me now."

"It is..." Lie mode. "The reason for my rebellion. Lord Hike located a device that he believed to belong to certain.. ancient peoples. Since Ra required such things to be disclosed to him, Lord Hike did so, and I was dispatched to convey it." I fan out my hands, cringing. "Naturally, I wished to confirm that the device existed. I opened the container it was being transported in, and…" I shake my head. "The device magnifies the avaricious tendencies in any who look at it. In my case, to the point where it drove me mad. I became entirely unreasonable, with the result that all gods know."

"And you regained your reason because it was destroyed during your fall?"

"No. By being trapped for centuries. By being forced to re-evaluate everything I and all of my ancestors had ever thought or felt about everything. Clarity returned when I truly mastered myself, and with it… A degree of control of the device. I could not destroy a fleet, but I could… Remove a single god. But, please, I have no desire to threaten your domains. I no longer… As the price for regaining my reason, I cannot think like a normal god any longer. My wants are… Different."

"As Ptah's wants were different?" I nod, Ptah's love of machines and disinterest in building his own domain being well known. As is his value to Ra. "Very well. I will indulge you. You may-." She pauses, considering. "Two seasons from now I will be hosting my underlords to discuss matters of concern. You will join them as my guest."

I bow. "Thank you, Lady Bastet. I will be honoured to attend."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Two seasons later
Morning

Bastet smiles down at the bowing underlord, the jaffa warriors behind him with a lotus blossom tattoo on their foreheads kneeling with their foreheads pressed to the ground.

"Be welcome, Lord Nefertum. The doors of Tell Basta are open to your and your warriors."

Nefertum straightens up, though his jaffa stay where they are. He flashes both myself and Lady Heset a mildly curious look but doesn't comment. Historically, this is the time when new underlords would be introduced to the others. He might not recognise me by sight, but the only odd thing is that we're standing up here with Bastet rather than that there are other goa'uld around.

"I thank you for your hospitality, and look forward to our discussions."

As far as I know, Nefertum's thing is medicine and perfume. If you've got a disease ravaging your workforce or your jaffa have come down with something that their prim'ta can't cope with, he's your man. Physicians from his world are often attached to the fleets of other underlords and even Bastet's fleet uses some. He's also the source of most of the floral displays that decorate Bastet's palace.

Bastet makes a gesture of polite dismissal, and-

"Jaffa, KREE."

-Nefertum's jaffa rise to their feet as he walks calmly in the direction of one of Bastet's functionaries, who will escort him to his quarters.

Scan.

Oh dear.

"You have a concern, Lord Mammon?"

Because you don't remain a major goa'uld for thousands of years without being aware of the people around you.

"Yes, Lady Bastet. Though I think it would perhaps be best raised in private?"

Bastet looks around at the ceremonial greeting area, the notables of Bubastis filing out now that the last greeting ceremony is completed. A handful are subordinate goa'uld, administrators of individual cities on Bubastis or technologists, but most are human priests, functionaries or merchants. Around us are her jaffa bodyguard, their leader with Bastet's cat emblem embedded in her forehead as a piece of solid silver. Bastet's First Prime is above us with the home fleet to ensure that no one can use this opportunity to make a decapitation attack. Heset's First Prime is also with us, a nervous man clearly unused to having a boss who isn't a psycho.

Or perhaps he's heard the rumour that I'm the one who removed his former god. That would explain the sidelong glances.

"If Lady Heset did not have my full confidence then I would not have appointed her."

I give her a shallow bow, moving my eyes to Heset to indicate that I am including her in the apology. "As you will."

An orange barrier appears around the three of us, though I'm careful that it's not obviously being projected by the ring. Heset looks around, noting its exact dimensions and the fact that her bodyguard just got cut off. Bastet only looks at the part of the barrier closest to her, and seems… Pleased about it?

"Speak."

"When I met Lord Am-heh, I could not help but wonder what the cause of his anomalous behaviour was. Upon closer examination I observed notable lesions on certain parts of his brain." And with his knowledge of biology to draw upon, I know exactly what that meant. "The parts damaged relate to self-perception and mood regulation. Damage would most likely cause megalomania and paranoia. Gods usually have a high opinion of themselves and their abilities, but paranoia is a little more obvious."

"I hardly see how that concerns us now."

"Since I do not know what caused his condition, I thought to see if any of your other underlords have similar characteristics. If one was being poisoned, for example, if would be worth knowing in advance of the symptoms appearing."

"And Lord Nefertum has those signs?"

"With the exception of Lady Heset, we all do." That gets me a slightly slow blink of shock. "The moment I.. realised, I corrected it in myself, but… Yes. No one is overtly symptomatic as yet… But since I don't know the cause, I can't say why that is or how or if the condition progresses. I can fix it in every case, but that would involve me gaining permission to alter the sufferer's brain. And their host's brain. Which won't help with the paranoia."

Bastet considers the issue.

"You have proof?"

"I have my scans of Lord Am-heh and the scans I took of everyone else. Those scans can be confirmed by anyone with a kara kesh. Interpreting them would require a high degree of familiarity with both goa'uld and human physiology, but I am hardly the only one with that familiarity."

She nods. "And you believe that it is caused by poison?"

"I.. considered it, but I doubt that anyone could poison all of us. Since Lady Heset in unaffected, it may be that there is something that all goa'uld in this region are exposed to sporadically which she has not been. My next step would be a careful investigation of all stargates and farmlands, but consulting Lord Nefertum first would be most sensible. His expertise far outstrips mine."

"The sarcophagus." Heset looks slightly surprised as Bastet and I both look at her. "I.. observed that those gods who use it frequently begin exhibiting such symptoms. I had been suspicious for a while, and limited my own usage."

The sarcophagus is a remarkable medical device, capable of repairing most physical injuries. Even death, as long as the head is mostly intact. Goa'uld tend to keep them to themselves and their most favoured servants. I don't actually own one because I couldn't understand how it worked. Still can't, actually.

Bastet looks at me. "Is that possible?"

"Possible? Certainly. The sarcophagus might well have some sort of defective scanner which causes cumulative neural damage." I shrug. "I'm afraid that my knowledge of the technology is not good enough to say for certain."

She weighs me up for a moment, then turns to Heset. "Use your kara kesh to examine my brain."

"Yes, my lady."

Heset raises her right hand, the jewel on her palm glowing as a pale orange beam briefly links it to Bastet's head. Curious how much Bastet trusts her. I haven't seen her around the palace before, but it's not as if I know all of Bastet's subordinates. After a few seconds Heset lowers her right hand and raises her left, a green holographic image appearing in the air over her signet ring. An image of Bastet's central nervous system appears, human host and goa'uld. It them zooms in, displaying the same minute lesions which I detected.

Bastet inhales sharply.

"Someone is acting against us."

Or that could be the paranoia, but I just nod as she turns to me.

"Remove the damage at once."

I raise my right hand, a construct kara kesh appearing and radiating orange light over her face. Honestly, it's an easy fix, because psychotic System Lords are how worlds burn and that's a bad thing. Once done, I lower my hand and dismiss the construct.

Bastet frowns. "I feel no different."

I nod. "That's to be expected. In your case the lesions were small. You may note a few minor changes in your behaviour in the coming days, but I mostly wanted to prevent the changes from worsening. What would you like me to do about the others?"

"Could you mend them covertly?"

"With a little difficulty..?" I nod cautiously. "Yes."

"Do so. Now return us all to my palace. We have more to discuss."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Three days later
Morning

"…reduced his fleets in the face of a series of probing offences from Baal." Mahes moves his hand and the holoscreen responds by updating the force indicator. "Combined with his need to assail Heru'ur's territory, there are fewer ships here than there have been in living memory. Now is the best time to strike."

I retake my place at the table, Mahes not bothering to look at me. He's the primary warlord amongst Bastet's underlords, and it's hardly surprising that he wouldn't respect someone like me who has neither fleets nor jaffa.

I take a look at the galactic map and sigh. Because naturally, Ra's death led to his son and chief general Heru'ur trying to simply take up his father's mantle. But while he is generally considered to be skilled in military terms, he doesn't have the genuine respect that the other System Lords have for Ra. Ra was the only reason that they managed a draw in the fight with the Asgard, the reason why they live lives of luxury with worlds of humans singing their praises. It's not that they liked him, and just about any System Lord or underlord who thought that they could get away with it would have killed him and tried to replace him. But if they had to have anyone over them, just about all of them would have picked him.

Mahes continues his presentation, looking at all of the underlords except me in turn. "I have already spoken with Lord Agni, and he believes that Lord Kali will be amenable to coordinating our efforts."

Lord Agni being his counterpart amongst System Lord Kali's underlords. Kali and Bastet are long time allies, though I don't know how much they actually like each other. Agni and Mahes on the other hand are friends, and meet up on a semi-regular basis to have their jaffa train against each other.

I dread to think how many people have died in this mess so far. The war-. The current war started with Heru'ur fighting against Ra's more uppity vassals, who made a break for either independence or at least greater freedom. Then Ra's brother Apophis stuck his oar in, a chunk of Ra's old underlords backing the more established and politically cunning brother against the brutish son, and more just content to lurk in their own systems until one side or the other forced the issue.

But with big fleets moving around the place, everyone not allied to either of them decided that now was a good time to make their own moves. Baal decided to take a few systems from his fellow System Lord while he's distracted. From what I can tell none of them are particularly important worlds, which is almost certainly part of his calculation. 'Is it really worth moving your forces back, Apophis, when Heru'ur is the obstacle between you and dominating Ra's territory?' But if he doesn't defend it, everyone will take that as a sign that Apophis can't defend his territory, and everyone will try taking their own little bites.

It's all starting to turn into a huge mess. I'd compare it to World War One, but nations during World War One weren't anything like as eager as the goa'uld are. And there are a lot more than two sides. And now Bastet's trying to work out how we should involve ourselves.

And she's looking at me.

Yes, I realise that half of the problem is that while you could roll your eyes at Mahes being his aggressive self, the other underlords aren't all that peacefully inclined. They want more worlds, more ships, more worshippers, and they definitely don't want their rivals to get those while they remain as they are. Capturing wrecks and shipyards is so much easier than building them fresh. So, what, you want me to talk them out of it? Or play the role of gainsayer so that this gathering doesn't do the very human thing of going along with the loudest voice, and then feeling slighted when you don't?

After this is over, I'm going to request that she briefs me on the role she wants me to play ahead of time in future.

I make a construct kara kesh and update the computer's tactical records. New fleet placements appear at once, and they aren't quite as optimistic as Mahes's original estimates.

Apophis isn't an idiot. He doesn't want to fight Baal. He wants to fight the next fool who tries anything, on the assumption that they'll be someone weaker than Baal and will allow him to make a statement without using more of his fleet than he actually needs to. Which is why enough Ha'taks to make an attacker very sorry are sitting a few systems away from the juiciest targets close to Bastet's space, under cloak.

Now he looks at me.

"What is this?"

Ha'taks fly using gravity manipulation. The system that lets them fly also maintains a convenient level of gravity inside the ship and allows it to land on a planet without pulling itself apart. Unlike gas or ion thrusters, it doesn't leave a trail, though it is easier to detect while in use.

Hard to hide from a power ring.

"This is why I dashed out. My sources had just tracked down where the transferred ships went."

He narrows his eyes. I gave his brain the same patch up as everyone else, and perhaps if I hadn't he'd be assuming that this is a plot from me to undermine him. As it is, he appears to take it at face value. He returns his attention to the fleet.

"How confident are you of the accuracy of your sources?"

"I'd bet my life upon it."

He nods. "This complicates things, but it is hardly an insurmountable obstacle. Knowing where the reserve fleet is, we can launch a second fleet under-" He smirks at me. "-Lord Mammon to attack them while they are powered down. If the first strike can target them precisely, then we need not engage them in equal numbers."

I shake my head. "Even knowing exactly where they are, Ha'tak hyperdrives lack the precision to guarantee that they would emerge from hyperspace in a position to fire before Apophis's ha'taks raised their shields."

Now he looks at me with a little more respect. Actual-Mammon didn't have all that much experience at fleet command, so I suppose that he wasn't expecting much.

"I was thinking more of using an Al'kesh swarm."

The Al'kesh. Big enough to be targetted by a ha'tak, small enough to be hurt by a death glider, not agile enough to dodge either. But sending them into the reserve fleet, using standard hyperspace drift calculations… It wouldn't be a sure thing, and they'd get punished on the retreat unless the jaffa on those ships were asleep on the job. They might cause enough damage to disable enough ships to neutralise the fleet, and the cost wouldn't be anything we couldn't afford to lose because they're really only good at bombarding ground positions and we're not planning on launching any ground invasions.

Militarily, it's a reasonable move. Politically…

I nod. "That could work, depending on the number of Al'kesh and the precision of the jumps. I'm just not convinced that it's worth it."

"We can hardly let them reinforce their position when we attack it."

"No. Your plan is militarily sound. I'm just not convinced of the political utility of a military victory. If we do this, given that Apophis is clearly looking to make an example of someone, that will become us."

"He is planning an ambush because he wants to crush someone far weaker than he is. We are not weak enough for that to work, especially forewarned."

"That's true, but you're missing the point. This war? This isn't going to go away. There's no Ra who will step in and enforce a peace treaty if things go on too long. I believe that the ultimate victor will be the side which handles attrition the best. That doesn't constantly lose ships for debatable gain."

He crosses his arms across his chest. "Then what do you propose?"

"Let everyone tire themselves out while our strength increases. Increase the strength of patrol fleets, and build new shipyards. With Lady Heset's improvements to her mines-" Some of which was a result of mining equipment I provided, but not all. It turns out that not being crazy makes you a better administrator. "-we have an increased amount of naquada to work with. And everyone who might try and interrupt construction is distracted."

"This war could be over before any new ships can leave the yards. We will look weak."

"Then just copy Apophis's strategy and make an example of the first god to try their luck. Perhaps deliberately leave an opening to tempt someone to try?"

He considers what I said for a moment, before turning to the other underlords and weighing their response. "That could work, though I believe that the point would be better made with a first strike. I suggest attacking Apophis's territory because I believe that Heru'ur will ultimately win their confrontation. Their total forces are nearly equal, but he can afford to concentrate his fleet far more. If Heru'ur wins, there will be no blowback against us for attacking Apophis. But there are no sure things in war."

Bastet nods. "Lord Mahes, go with Lord Mammon to a war room and use his intelligence to plan the campaign which you would like to wage, and the industrial build-up that he would like to create. Present me with both plans when you are done."

Mahes gives me a sidelong glance, but we both bow to Bastet together before leaving the gathering.

 

[Mr Zoat]

A little later

"You see?"

I nod. I do. Mahes has been doing a lot of work on wargaming the most likely outcomes of the wars raging all across the galaxy. While the calculations changed slightly based on my intelligence -which only extends to the area around Bastet's space- there's almost no way for us to make enough ships to make a significant difference to the situation before one of the victors comes and starts leaning on us. Not with the systems we have now, at least.

Goa'uld are feudal. The fight between Heru'ur and Apophis will end with one of them dead, but most of the other goa'uld who survive to that point will be given the opportunity to bow to the victor. At that point, if we haven't supported the victor they might well decide to pay off their supporters with our space. We need to have done enough fighting that the victor will feel obliged to negotiate our submission instead.

"I believe that figure can be improved within a relevant timescale."

He frowns. "How? Labourers can only work so fast before the errors become unacceptably frequent. Even if I move trained jaffa crewmen to construction duty, these figures will change little and our fleet performance will suffer drastically."

"Provide them with better tools."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Better..?"

"Much better."

He stares at me, his eyes flaring for a moment. "That is a risk. If we were discovered, the other System Lords would use that as a rallying cry to crush us utterly. And that is leaving aside how unruly the humans would become."

"I have long believed that a more technologically advanced level of human civilisation could be maintained without sociological collapse. My original plan was to experiment on Syrania, on the grounds that I could kill the rebellious human population with a viral weapon easily enough if I was mistaken."

He looks curious. "Is Lord Bastet aware of your actions?"

"She is not unaware of them. It is a gradual process and I have not yet breached Ra's laws."

He considers our logistics plot, and then shakes his head. "Even if we throw out those laws immediately, it would take generations to educate them sufficiently."

I nod. "True, but I… Believe that I could acquire sufficient devices to speed up the manufacturing process without the need to fully educate the workers on their function."

"From where? Your own wrecked ship? The fleet Ra granted you, whose ships even now fight for Heru'ur?"

"It is no great secret that Ra did not use jaffa for his armies. He… Was less than rule-abiding in other ways, as well. Heru'ur had little enough interest in where the ships he fought with came from."

Nonsense, of course. Oh, I'm sure that Ra had better construction technology than he was sharing with the System Lords, but I'm going to be making whatever machinery we need with the ring.

"What will acquiring that cost?"

"Cost? With Ra dead I'm probably the only one who knows that such devices exist. The only question is, how much does our production need to improve for the difference to be significant?"

He presses some buttons on the tactical computer, and with Am-heh's help I'm truly astonished at how inefficient goa'uld techniques are.

"We would need to increase production by two hundred percent in two years. By which I mean that at the end of two years we need three times as many ships as we would have had otherwise."

"Hm. That should be possible. Mechanical drills to improve the output of the miners, ground penetrating radar to locate new seams of minerals, plasma smelters to increase refining speed…"

And thanks to Am-heh I just know this stuff. I see where the goa'uld attitude comes from. Modern humans might be able to understand goa'uld technology well enough to use it but every goa'uld knows how to make just about everything their civilisation ever developed. Compared to us… Them, humans are a bit slow. Even advanced humans from worlds like Earth.

I access the computer myself and feed in the timelines and improvements. Crystal production appears to be the bottleneck now, but even allowing for a margin of error 200% doesn't look like it will be that hard.

The difficulty will be in convincing the others to go along with it.

Mahes sighs.

"That will work. Can your spies locate a source for new crystal forges?"

"They haven't yet, but I can make enquiries." I give him a sidelong glance. "You could sound happier about it. Are you seeing a risk that I am not?"

"I like war."

"You'll get a war. You just have to wait two years instead of jumping right in."

"I will live with my disappointment. Enjoyable as conflict is, it is better to win."

I offer him my right hand, and after a moment's hesitates he.. clasps my forearm.

"You do realise that Bastet sent us in here as a test, don't you?"

He frowns curiously. "Who else would she send? You were the one arguing against my proposal."

"Exactly. The mouthiest underlords get sent to work on a plan. If we can't get along, she could berate both of us and take whatever course she wants. If we can, she gets a better plan and no one argues about it."

He looks mildly irritated as he releases my arm. "I don't care for that sort of thing."

"Oh?"

"I've served under dozens of different gods in my life. When I was much younger I was more politically aware, always… Scrabbling for the slightest piece of influence or power, retaliating against every slight. Now? I stick to fighting. It's what I enjoy and what I'm best at. Lord Bastet respects that, and so do the other underlords. But you…" He eyes narrow. "I don't know what you want. I know of the Lord Mammon of old, but he could not have killed Lord Am-heh so quietly. What has happened to you?"

"Two hundred years, Lord Mahes. Two hundred years, trapped under a crashed starship, under a mountain. I had to rethink a great many things."

"Such as?"

"What happens next time we have to fight the asgard? It is fortunate that they do not consider our treaty to have been invalidated by Ra's death, because we have no one who is his equal. No Supreme System Lord to unify us. We know so much, understand so much, yet those few of us who truly innovate hoard what they build to themselves and all others would be more likely to kill them and destroy their work than attempt to copy their example."

"You have examples, I assume?"

"The helmets we give to jaffa. Ra designed them originally, but did you know that his own have a number of features he omitted from the version he shared?" He looks curious. "Starship control systems are the same. He and Ptah, and… Me, in the old days, got the good stuff. Everyone else got the dumbed-down version. What do I want? I want us to be the glorious shining gods we deserve to be, eternal, powerful, terrible. We could do so much and we actually do so little. We disappoint me. And if living up to our potential means dragging the jaffa and humans up to where we are now, then so be it."

He grins. "You're a madman! But from the sounds of things you will at least be entertaining." He thinks for a moment. "Do you know where I might find some of the fully functional helmets?"

"I might be able to lay my hands on one or two. And I might be able to trade them to you."

"In exchange for what?"

"I would like to borrow one of your Second Primes, and a squad or two. I have some thoughts on how our doctrines could be improved, and I would like to test it with them."

He doesn't hesitate in nodding. "I look forward to hearing what you discover with them."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
03:29 GMT +2?

It's a good job that Akhlys isn't in a hurry.

Walking along the bank of the river dividing the Elysian Fields from the rest of Erebos, I've seen burned farms and fields, shattered statues and walls, despoiled palaces and rotting orchards. I'm not sure how she's achieved this, but… I think this is a reflection of the thoughts of the heroes who have been given control of the local afterlife as part of their reward for entertaining the gods in life.

"Did they do this, or is it the result of your work?"

"It is the same thing. They abandon their vainglorious fantasies, finally growing beyond their childishness."

I'd hug her, but I don't think that would go well. At least I have time to recharge.

Once we reach the 'northern' end of the Fields I create a construct bridge for us to cross as we turn 'north-east'. There isn't a lot in this part of Erebos, dark grey rock and dust giving the impression of a volcanic environment without any actual volcano. No settlers that I've seen, though whether that's because they're all bunkered up closer to the capital due to Akhlys or because this just isn't an appealing location I don't know.

Or it could be because of the one feature that this part of Erebos has. The Punishment Fields are coming up on our right, and… I'm a little worried that I can't hear people crying out in pain. There should at least be a few people there, even if the long term residents have long since been discharged…

Oh. Of course.

"They seek meaning from their suffering. They do not yet understand."

Two shades are fighting over access to some sort of… Mangle.

"I thought you were pro-suffering?"

"Yes. Of course. But that is not because it has a higher purpose, or a deeper or grander purpose. It simply… Is."

"But you have purpose. You're spreading your truth. If it just 'was', then you could just… Go back to what you used to do; hanging around outside the gate to Tartarus."

"My motivation comes from the Anti-Life itself. An… Impulse to spread. I don't regard it as good or bad, but I exist with nothing else. A leaf does not need to desire to fall to be blown on the breeze."

Hu-uh. There's an angle of attack there. If I induce avarice, if I make her want something, would that throw the infection out?

Uraaah, no, she's an Anti-Life infected goddess and I can't risk the Ophidian like that. Not without something else. Which I'm hopefully going to.. get…

There's an army.

"Ah, how interesting. More souls to enlighten."

She strides-.

"Wait wait wait wait." I fly backwards, facing her. "Let me talk to them."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because if I persuade them to move aside, we get to the Dream faster and you Anti-Life everyone faster."

"You can fly more swiftly than a hawk. Convince them before I reach them."

"Oh… Kay."

Booster constructs and fly. Hard to tell where the command-. Wait, those are aliens from-. Shield!

Some sort of plasma-. Ah, tie it into my tattoos because that's something exotic, ugh. Shield's holding and I'm getting closer-. Not sure who most of these people are, but that's Melinoë. Since her father's probably forgotten who she is I doubt that she's in charge, but her raw power should at least make her a senior officer. Soldiers fall back as I land in front of her.

"M-."

"I liked him. Perhaps he will wake up if I make him afraid."

"Melinoë, I'm-."

She gestures, and-.

Spell eater reaching critical temperature.

"And perhaps I could comfort him as he-."

"I'm still me, Melinoë. We fixed Earth last month."

She's armoured up, and it looks like Hephaestaean really put some effort into it. The base appears to be mithril, but it's as if some sort of dark gas is stuck to the surface, shifting into shapes of… Eyes, teeth and screaming faces. A bit generic, but I'm sure that she can do worse.

"Explain."

"The Anti-Life has convinced Akhlys that it's the fundamental truth of the universe. As such, she doesn't believe that it can be beaten or stopped. Meaning that she'll walk into a trap knowing that it's supposed to be a trap without any concern."

"You have a trap in the Dream… No."

"No? Melinoë, it-."

"I conjured the greatest terrors in the collective unconscious to fight her last time, and she laughed."

"Anti-Life thrives on fear. I'm afraid that you went the wrong way with that."

She rolls her eyes. "What am I the goddess of?"

"Nightmares and madness, yes, this wasn't playing to your strengths. Honestly, I'm impressed that she wasn't able to turn you as well."

"My own nightmares bring me comfort, not distress." The shadows clinging to her armour roil for a moment-

Your fault your fault all your fault and you can't fix it.

-and I see-. Nothing of consequence.

"Can we pass?"

She looks around at her force. A few of them are firing on Akhlys, and she casually ignores everything that hits her. "Where is Diana?"

"Hopefully, she's reached Alan and is coming here via the Dream."

"And what is your back-up plan?"

"I force her to want things and throw the Anti-Life out that way."

"And mitigation? How will you stop her tearing the Dream asunder?"

"I'll stop her before she gets that far. I'll have to."

"Tch. No. You may pass, and I will come with you. I will hold the Dream together against her and against you."

I take a step closer, take her right hand in mine and smile at her. "Thank you."

"Tch. Still an idiot."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
03:35 GMT +2?

"So how are you finding it down here?"

The heavily armed khundian shade glances away from his gun sight for an instant. He was one of the shades who transferred here from Mother of Mercy's tender clutches, and I'm… A little concerned that a khundian wouldn't fit in well. Khundian culture is rather distinct from Ancient Greek culture, with the possible exception of some parts of Sparta.

"Acceptable."

Around us the rest of the Army of Erebos is deploying in a semicircle around the gate, leaving room for Akhlys to approach but digging in just in case they need to fight after all.

"You'll be here for millions of years, if not eternity. You might want something better than 'acceptable'."

"No. I will spend time here teaching other shades how modern war works. Once I tire of them, then I will demand to be reincarnated."

"You mean 'ask politely to be reincarnated'."

He snorts. "Khundians have little to do with gods. I pay respect to Hades for rescuing me and housing me. That respect ends when I want to leave."

"You realise that as things stand you won't reincarnate as a khundian?"

"One of my employers was three thousand years old. It made him miserable. I am not such a coward. If this existence no longer suits me then I will move on to another. I have been a fine khundian. I will be a fine… Whatever you are."

"Good-."

"Don't touch me."

I lower the hand that was going to pat him on the back. "Man. I'll… Leave you to it."

I fly over the army towards the gate itself. Melinoë is waiting by it already, and Akhlys is approaching at an unhurried pace.

"Ready to go?"

"I am no less ready than I was when I agreed to this. Are you certain that Alan Scott is inside?"

"Not in the slightest. But his whole thing is hope, so… Ah…"

She looks at me. She raises her eyebrows a little. I smile reassuringly. She rolls her eyes and strides up to the gate, pulls it open just enough to get inside and walks through, pulling it closed behind her.

She's probably planning to try to hasten his arrival.

I turn back t-.

Akhlys lays her right hand on my left gauntlet.

That-. That shouldn't let her affect me. I've replaced my spell eater and that isn't physical contac-.

She squeezes her hand, my armour cracking and crumbling underneath! That shouldn't-. She's not using physical strength, so it's not triggering the kinetic barrier. I activate the crumbler-. Already destroyed.

"What are you doing?"

"Winning more swiftly."

I pull away-.

The armour fails and she touches-.

Grinding down.

Huh. Wondered what I'd get this time. Because despite everything I'm in a pretty good mental place. Plenty of fulfilling and beneficial work, but at the same time it's not such a desperate rush that I can't take an hour to myself. So what exactly-?

Oh.

Yes, that's… There's an increasing possibility that human civilisation could collapse. It's not-. And the thing with the League is that we… Will become society, the only source of… Anything. We'll be needed to make anything large scale happen because the lesson people will learn from this is be simple and turtle up. That wasn't why Mr. Queen was having an episode, but perhaps it's as much of the idea as he can grasp. It isn't human civilisation anymore, it's Justice League society, featuring the human species.

And I've got no reason to believe that this won't keep happening. We can't… build. We can just do our own thing and rebuild and rebuild every time, making exactly no progress, because… We're not the point. We're not being superheroes so that we can say that we're superheroes. We're superheroes because we want to improve things. Us taking over doesn't just mean that we can do that without anyone getting in the way, it means that no matter what we do we can't succeed.

"Do you see?"

Hm.

"No."

I pull my hand away from her.

"I mean, I see what you're getting at, but it's not very convincing. I have all the time in the universe. And at the end, if it turns out that it was impossible… Then I haven't done anything wrong because it was impossible."

I step away from her, towards the gateway, rebuilding my gauntlet as I go.

"How did that get to you? I can't really see you being ground down like it was trying to imply I had been."

"I was ground down over the course of seven thousand years." She falls in behind me but makes no effort to touch me again. "Everything was subsumed by my suffering, the constant pain and weakness."

"Did you ever experience anything else?"

"Yes. When I was very young. But the joy faded as the titans were felled."

"What did that have to do with it?"

"You discovered that the Olympians strengthened themselves by leaching power from those bound in Tartarus. But they were not inclined to take what they did not want. That which would bring them pain."

"But they couldn't leave it to its owners, because they might use that power to escape. So… You."

"Yes. Me. And others like me."

"I… See why you'd be upset about that. It's quite reasonable."

"No. I'm not upset. I'm not much of anything, other than the Anti-Life."

"Yes, well…" I reach out to grab hold of the gate. "I'll see about correcting that."

"You poor man. You will not. It is I-"

She reaches out and yanks the gate, throwing it wide open!

"-who will correct you, and all others."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
03:39 GMT +2?

This is… Novel.

The graveyard that was here last time has been replaced by… Stone. Grey stone, illuminated from nowhere because this is a dream. I can't tell if this is a castle or a… Maze? I haven't seen a window or anything else which would suggest a direction, though Akhlys seems to know where she's going.

"Is this what it got turned into last time?"

" In part. It seems that Melinoë has added to it."

We pass a-. Ah, a room for a sarcophagus. This is a giant crypt. Thematically appropriate, though-. Ah, of course. The things that emerge are dream-creatures: fragments risen from the collective unconscious. None of them are the souls of the dead.

"Let us learn what she had in mind."

We walk out into an internal pathway which runs around the interior of a square cross-sectioned tower. Looking up-. Heh. Looking up I see myself and Akhlys looking up and/or down from a hundred other pathways, because conventional physics are for the weak.

"An optical illusion. This is a pointless delay that cannot hold me here."

"Each day's a gift and not a given right. People will struggle on for every moment, even if they don't have any hope of winning. Because who knows what might happen."

"They might give in to despair."

"Or a madman with a glowing orange ring might swing by and deal with their problem. That's happened quite a lot recently."

"The hope merely emphasises the hopelessness."

I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her torso. "I'm sorry about-"

Ultimately, alone.

Just an opportunity to meet new people. I've actually lived through that one.

"-that."

"Is this what you are planning? To try and turn me from the truth with feigned affection?"

"No."

She reaches around with her left hand and lays it on my left forearm. "Fool."

"That appears to be the prevailing opinion."

"I tolerate your touch because I am not used to using the Anti-Life in this environment."

I frown, looking past her-. The cracks between the stones are glowing black.

"This dream of stone and death lacks the integrity to resist as you do. Merely by my being here I cause it to crumble."

"And how do you handle madness?"

"See?"

She points upwards with her right hand, and I follow her extending index finger to watch as the black glow reaches the reflections.

"Dreams fade before the light of truth."

Dark lines appear between each reflection, the whole shattering into fragments which shimmer into ethereality as they move through each other like phantoms before merging and collating-.

I see a translucent image of myself swing in through the wall, another through the ceiling, another-.

I see myself from slightly different directions and angles, and Akhlys and.. this place, and…

Some of them didn't come here the same way. I see stairs I didn't walk up, passages I didn't walk along. I feel everything from a dull emptiness that feels a little like the Anti-Life to exhalant joy, shivering fear, amusement-.

"An interesting approach. Making me induce my own madness." Akhlys looks across the now-sensible gap between our walkway… And the opposite walkway where Melinoë stands. "But all that you have done is expose your ignorance. Did you think that my thoughts are my own, so that confusing them would stop me?"

"Also, did you have to hit me as well?"

Melinoë glowers at-. Either one or both of us. "Yes."

"You cannot inflict suffering on me. You could not have done so even before my enlightenment in the ways of the Anti-Life. I am the Goddess of Suffering. I can no more be made to suffer by you than I could make you dream a nightmare."

"I cannot make you suffer." A figure emerges from the corridor behind her. "But not everyone who experiences madness suffers from it."

"He-llo there!" The-. Napier waves, lipstick-coated mouth grinning and too-long right arm waving in a parody of genuine friendliness. "Straight Man and Debbie Downer. My money was on you ending up with the Superboy!"

"Jack. You seem chipper."

"Hah-hah! What can I say? You gave me that white glowy knock to the ol' noggin, and everything was right-" He taps the top of his head with his right fist. "-in the Jokerdome!"

"I was sort of hoping that we'd get your original personality back."

"You did! But it turns out that I'm not even good for my own sanity! Completely fruited his loop! Fell back into me like a comfortable pair of unwashed pants!" He leans forwards, right hand at the side of his face as if offering a private aside. "He did that sort of thing a lot."

Akhlys pushes me back and walks to the edge of the walkway. "Are you a jester?"

"I'm the jestiest! But you…" He shakes his head. "I'm afraid that the Anti-Life just isn't funny."

Behind him, Melinoë makes eye contact with me and motions to her right with her eyes. I nod inside my armour, then rise slightly off the ground and head down the passage to my left.

The moment I'm out of Akhlys' line of sight the space around me shifts and I'm falling, plummeting down a corridor that a moment ago was horizontal. And I admit, for just a second I'm afraid of falling again for the first time in years. I'm falling-

Through a gap in the wall I drop past I see Napier throw a gas grenade at Akhlys.

-down to-.

I stagger, turning my momentum into a run as down becomes down again, Melinoë watching me disinterestedly.

"The Joker?"

"His mind is empty of aught but joy and madness. He will use the Dream to his advantage without thinking about it, and her aura will not afflict him."

"So long as he can't come back later. No sign of Alan?"

"Not as yet."

"Then we'd best go find him."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
03:42 GMT +2?

Melinoë leads me out onto a… Landing pad? Her gaze rises to the… Cloud-wracked sky as a bat-winged horse swoops down towards us.

"You could probably get a real one."

"I am not asking Uncle Poseidon to have sex with a bat. A steed of bound-together dreams will-" It lands just in front of us and she climbs onto it. "-suffice."

"Okay, we're looking for hope, Alan, or a giant blue bird called Adara. Can you find them?"

"We cannot leave this to chance."

"Sure, ideally, but I don't know how to make this-."

"So we will consult with the master of this realm." The horse's wings flap and it rises into the air. "You can explain."

"Hgghuuuhahahahaha!"

Napier grows out of the tower, pushing down on the wall to lift up his legs and crouch on it. Then he reaches towards his flower with his right hand and triggers the bulb, acid spraying out and making the stone smoulder and melt.

I close my eyes, focus my mind on the sensation of flight in all its forms and sort of pull the associated ideas to me. Nothing like as fast as I'm used to flying, but then we're not flying to a particular corporeal location. "Why him?"

Melinoë leads the way, leaning close to her steed as it flaps for height. "How many willing servants do you think that the Goddess of Nightmares and Madness has?" Her eyes narrow. "Or did you expect me to keep myself for you?"

"No, of course not."

She looks up at the rapidly-approaching clouds. "He knows the basics of the art of dream manipulation. He will hold her longer than either of us could."

"Is there going to be a long-term problem with Jack 'the Joker' Napier knowing how to do that?"

"Not if we do not contain the Anti-Life."

"I seem to remember Dream being a bit… Temperamental."

"Are you worried that we are going to see one of the few being in existence who can hold you to account?"

"Yes. Plus the fact that Desire seems to like me and the two of them don't get on. Ah, as I understand it."

"Desire has spoken to you?"

"Twice. Apparently I'm a 'delightful mess'."

"Fooooooooore!"

I glance down as Napier draws a golf club from… Nowhere, and swings it at a tower which changes into a golf ball a moment before the club hits.

"I bet you've never suffered like that before!"

"Can he-?"

"I cannot imagine him winning, but he can hold her attention. Now, ready yourself to-"

We punch through the clouds, and there's a castle of ridiculous towers standing on rock fingers rising out of the clouds, buildings perilously perched and inadequately braced. Thin walkways link some of the towers, without rhyme or reason in their directions or orientation. The clouds below are dark grey, and the sky all around is pale blue-grey, not cloud or mist but reality with nothing printed onto it.

"-grovel."

"Does he know we're coming?"

"Yes."

"Then at least the grovelling will be efficient."

A wing-flap from her steed and we're nearly there, another and she's coming into land, touching down on the top of a battlement with no visible way off. I drift down and land next to her.

"Is there a way to get an emergency meeting? I realise that he's a sovereign and a busy man-."

"But he recognises patterns well enough to know-"

I turn, and see… That small turret wasn't there before, and neither was the door it in. Morpheus… I'm assuming that that is him, but what I'm seeing-. I know he can look like just about anything, but what I'm seeing right now is a black… Blob with a white mask with a sort of simplified human face on it at roughly the level a face should be.

"-that leaving one such as you alone in my domain would be ill-advised."

Melinoë mimes a curtsey. "Dream Lord."

I perform a shallow bow as he approaches, his body… Refining itself into something more human-looking as he does so. The blob takes on a suggestion of robes and hair, the face more definite features. Eyes shining with tiny stars shimmer under heavy brows.

I incline my head. "Dream."

"Goddess of Nightmares and Scholar of Avarice. You have brought Anti-Life into my kingdom."

"Yes, and if you'll help us find Blue Lantern Alan Scott we'll deal with that immediately. And I'll pay you back for the insult and intrusion but please, we're in a hurry."

His robe becomes a coat and trousers, and he gains visible arms. "You do not intend to claim that I owe you for freeing Sanderson Hawkins?"

"I don't know how you value the two things and don't have time to argue. I'm a hero; if I can pay a price to prevent something terrible happening, then that's what I'll do."

"Very well then. A favour for a favour. Alan Scott is trying to find passage from Baghdad. But it is a simple matter-"

"…a single place.. where-."

Alan steps out from behind the turret, looking around in surprise.

"-to move him from one part of my realm to another.

"Thank you. Alan, did Diana explain what's going on?"

He blinks, then shakes his head. "No? I haven't seen her. I just thought Sandy might have some kinda dream portal, or a way to get through the Dream so we could get into Erebos that way."

"Good idea." I turn to Morpheus. "Thank you, you know how to reach me when you want me. Come on!"

I rise into the air. Alan tries to follow but doesn't get anywhere. Melinoë pulls him towards her horse and then boosts him up onto its back before mounting it herself.

"Okay, I'm missing something. What's going on?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
03:45 GMT +2?

Is it insulting to tell a veteran superhero that you're impressed by his lateral thinking when he decides on his own to do something you were going to tell him to do? Maybe, but I should anyway. Best not leave things unsaid.

"Good thinking, realising you could get here like that."

"Wouldn't have, if it wasn't for Sandy."

Clouds part before us and the… The mausoleum is rubble and ruins, slowly sinking into the black march beneath it. Black vapour rises up and tries to wrap itself around the giant form of Mr. Napier as he crouches on a too-small cloud. His clothes… And his features are melting, running like soft wax, a melting that worsens as more black mist catches up to him.

"If this was happening to someone else, I'd find it hilarious."

He lifts his right hand and watches the tips of his fingers drip off. His left hand reaches up to push his dripping hair out of his eyes, and ends up… Deforming his entire head.

Where's Akhlys?

"You left me with this fool in the Dream?"

A great black hand lifts itself out of the mire, turns and lays palm-down on the now solid surface. Another hand… Some way away does the same thing. And then…

"Do you want me to spread the Anti-Life?" Alan looks up as Akhlys pushes her inky black torso out of the inky black liquid, looking up at us. And then down at us. "I had assumed not, but perhaps I misunderstood."

"That… Dream attraction thing. I guess she can do it too?"

Melinoë nods. "Yes."

"That seems like something that she's probably had practice with."

"Yes. But Paul speaks well of you."

Alan glances my way. "Thanks."

"You work on that, I'll rescue Mister Napier."

"I don't-. I don't even know where to begin."

"You are a hero, Alan Scott. You have inspired people across the world throughout your career."

"I know how to make people hope, but this is a whole lot more abstract."

"You have felt hope yourself. Begin with that."

I fly towards Mr. Napier's cloud as he seems to rally, pulling free of the mist-strands and standing upright. Stones from the ruin float upwards and then stop, creating stepping stones for him to run along to get away-. Stagger away, really. If it were anyone else I'd worry about whatever this is doing to his psyche, but in his case I hardly see how it could make things worse.

I reach out for desires for escape and sudden winds that blow a fire away, and the wind comes, pushing the grasping mists away from his retreat. I draw on desires for safety and protection and the stone bricks double and triple, forming a floor and walls around him.

Mr. Napier leans against the wall, smearing it with his sleeve, his elbow bending in a 'U' shape.

"What happened to you?"

"Oh… Heh. She's been pulling apart my self-concept. Which is a riot, because it isn't even mine!"

"I'm not your psychiatrist. Do you require assistance, or can you wake up on your own?"

"Oh, heh. Waking up like this would be a terrible idea! The world doesn't need two of me. And I don't need the embarrassment of him calling me a tribute act! Just…" He sags further. "Hoo. I'd studied him, you know? He was just down the hall, and it's not as if he ever shuts up. Heh. Thought this would keep the Anti-Life off, but it means I'm covered in him."

"You're not The Joker?"

"Disassociative identity disorder isn't so hard to understand. People normally behave differently in different situations. Ugh. Ah… I think I could do with a hand. I don't want Debbie seeing the real me."

I float closer, until I'm next to the increasingly glutinous surface of his chest. Then I twist, sticking my right arm into… Into him, and reaching around for something-.

There. Something solid. Grab on and pull!

The Joker figure collapses almost at once, white and purple and green gunge falling to the ground. And in my hand…

"Doctor Crane. I take it that you and Melinoë continued your correspondence?"

He reaches up to his glasses and adjusts them. "It's been such a relief to be able to feel again. And the Dream, the collective unconscious! Amazing! There must be fears here that even I can't imagine! Just as long as Akhlys doesn't see me."

"You're afraid of her?"

"Justifiably cautious. I didn't enjoy the Anti-Life either. But I think that you should probably confront her before she decides that you aren't going to try. She's very keen on overcoming obstacles to her new 'truth'."

"Alright. Hold tight here-. Hey, did you once prank the Arkham Asylum guards by pretending to hang yourself?"

He blinks, focusing on me completely. Then he smiles. "Yes, how did you hear-? They took so much effort to make sure that I couldn't get access to chemicals, you see. I needed to prove it wasn't the only way I knew how to work. The chemicals make people conjure up their own fears, it's so… Useful, but… Easy."

"Any advice on beating Akhlys?"

"She destroyed my Joker persona by drawing upon the self-destructive impulses contained therein. While I can't be certain, I suspect that it is her hope that will prove most efficacious."

"But she doesn't feel hope any more."

"But, fortunately, we are in the Dream. All the hopes she once felt are in here, somewhere." That… He should be r-. "Go."

I fly upwards, completely unsure what-. I mean, she says that she doesn't want things, but by that standard-.

"I had hoped for more."

Alan's glowing blue, which is good. Blue mist is precipitating out of the air around him, which is also good.

But it's all completely overwhelmed by the black.

"I intended to crush the universe's hope. Can you not conjure more than this?"

Akhlys hoped. Akhlys wanted.

I can't see her wants now, because she's an emotional void.

But her dreams…

Oh dreams of desire, show me what she wanted.

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th March 2013
03:48 GMT +2?

Make it all go away.

Yeah, that's a pretty understandable desire for someone whose own divine nature caused them seven thousand years of every form of suffering that it's possible to experience.

An orange construct hand appears and punches through the black… Face that Akhlys has conjured from Anti-Life-aligned dreams, grabs and pulls.

"Alan, how's it going!?"

"Not great, but it looks like you've got it handled!"

"No, I don't! You need to destroy the Anti-Life fragment! I literally can't do that!"

"Got any advice?!"

"Remember when you asked if there was a hope Honden and we did those exercises?"

He looks… Blank. Alan… "Yeah? Kinda?"

"Like that! Imagine a web of hopes which-!"

My hand dream-construct explodes as Akhlys… Opens her arms and tears it apart from inside.

"Those are my old dreams of desire, aren't they? Were you lying to me earlier?"

"Strictly speaking, no. It's just that Joker is out of commission and now I need to distract you."

She raises her right hand, mists swelling and surging to envelop the hand I made, which… Evaporates.

"And now no one need dream that foolish dream again."

Ahhhhhhhh, fiddlesticks.

"Can she actually do that?"

I glance over to where Alan's blue ball isn't much bigger. "I don't know! I don't come here regularly!"

I mean… Anti-Life destroying dreams? Sounds perfectly plausible to me. Strike and dismiss it is. And I doubt that she's the only one who's wanted illness or injury to go away.

I form two construct hands… Slowly, as Akhlys lands on her slumped Anti-Life torso and begins reforming it. Her head still visible I shove the hands forwards, fingers first with palms together. The mists follow, but-. Pull apart and then dismiss!

The torso splatters over our fighting area, Akhlys reduced to standing on the black ground.

"She hoped to be cured, Alan! Try focusing on-."

"Yeah, I spotted that one!"

Or-. Wait.

"And lots of people hoped to be free of the Anti-Life! Combine them!"

"Because that's so easy!"

Akhlys spreads her arms wide. And… Nothing happens. No, clearly something's happened, it's just…

The black comes down, destroying the clouds which had topped this… Zone. And… It's harder to tell, but I think that the walls are closing in as well.

Melinoë breathes in sharply. "If there is aught that can be done to aid you, name it."

"Yes, Alan Scott. Dream of Rose. Dream-."

"You don't-! You don't get to mention her."

"Dream of Molly Mayne, of the life you could have had together. Dream of-"

Dream of a gag made of your own fantasies that you could stop whimpering.

"-mph."

"Alan, you're good at focusing. Stay focused."

"Yeah. Okay, I-." The blue ball grows. "I think I'm getting the hang of this."

Akhlys tears off the gag and then points at him, and-.

I hit her with a hammer of all the times she dreamed that she was suffering because she deserved it.

"Ah."

And she tanks the hit because she's Anti-Lifed and doesn't care about things like that, but it disrupted her.

And Alan… Alan is using that.

"Before this whole Anti-Life mess started-"

Akhlys gestures to send the mist after him, but I block it with her desire for suffering to end.

"-I used to visit hospital wards. Terminal cases, people who were desperate… Giving up, in some cases. Can't say I've ever been down quite that far myself, but I know what it looks like. And after I fixed them up, heck, it didn't even cost me any ring power. They got back into hoping right away. They got their lives back. Everything they could have done with their lives if they'd been healthy, they could do again. I know what that feels like. So-"

The black ceiling drops on him. And… Bends around him, unable to withstand the… Light of the Blue Lantern.

"-I'm not angry, Akhlys. I just wanna help."

The glowing blue ball expands, until I can't… See him, or… Anything, really. Normally I'd be worried but this… Actually feels pretty nice. I could live without hope, just doing the best I could and accepting what I couldn't change, but I'd struggle to deny that this is better.

"And sometimes, people need their arms twisted before they'll take it."

Blue strands, blue winds, blow past me. I see tiny pieces of… Uplifting scenes, families, friends generally embracing life, the dying getting off their sickbeds…

And then it passes, and the graveyard from our first visit is back, and Alan is hugging the blue-glowing Akhlys in the middle of it.

 

[Mr Zoat]

About a month later
Afternoon

Judge Todos maintains a serious and focused demeanour as he finishes summarising the case. The defendant cleared an area of scrubland and planted it, but it turned out that it was already owned by someone else. Todos brought it to me because the existing law would have at best had the defendant paid as a labourer for his time and the crop awarded to the landowner, and he and the defendant thought that unfair. The plaintiff on the other hand thought that he was getting a windfall and started looking extremely uncomfortable at having me hear it.

I nod. "Thank you, Judge Todos. You, Yakub." I point at the defendant with my right hand. "Did you make any effort to discover if the land had an owner?"

He bows awkwardly, clearly not sure of the protocol. "I… It hadn't been worked in my lifetime, divine one. I asked around the village-" He shakes his head. "-and everyone thought that it hadn't been owned since Old Habil died."

I raise my eyebrows. "Productive land taken out of use?"

"We farm orrocks, divine one. We could grow feedstock I suppose, but the orrocks need a lot of water. We aren't a big village, and it was easier to clear land along the river bank than move them back and forth from pasture to water. But I thought I could use it for planting."

I nod, pointing at the plaintiff. "You, Danyal. Why did you not claim your great uncle's land sooner?"

He shrugs awkwardly. "I'm… Just one man, divine one. I already have a farm, and much work to do on it. My second son is only just old enough to consider starting his own farm, and we knew that the whole family would need to help for the first year. I don't have time to walk to another village just to see it, so we waited until the year's work was done on my farm before travelling. When we arrived and found someone else had taken it…"

Village records are clear about who owns the land, and family records mean that it's very likely that Old Habil is indeed his great uncle. Syrania doesn't use surnames, and that's something that I'm going to try introducing at some point. Habil isn't exactly an uncommon name.

I nod. "Very well. Clearly, no party acted maliciously, but I feel that a labourer's wages would be insufficient compensation." Danyal winces. Honestly, a years' wages for a labourer to be paid out in one go would be more cash than he'd have on hand anyway. "I rule that the entire crop is awarded to Yakub, who will pay Danyal rent for the period of occupancy."

Danyal looks a little relieved, but Yakub looks unhappy. "Divine one, I can't afford that."

"I will buy your produce. Speak to my seneschal and an inspector will travel with you to assess its value." He sags slightly in relief. "Are either of you unsatisfied with my ruling?"

"No, divine one." / "No, divine one."

"Yakub, since you are clearly a hard-working and driven young man, I would recommend that you apply for a farm in the new settlements."

He nod-bows. "Thank you, divine one. I will do so."

"Then you are dismissed. Judge Todos, please enter this ruling into the canon of law for distribution amongst your peers."

He bows. "Yes, divine one. Thank you for your judgement."

"Thank you for bringing this to me. Go in peace."

Todos shepherds the others out, Danyal and Yakub exchanging a few muttered words.

Holding court is a great way of managing disputing power groups, because it lets you play them against each other while still sounding completely reasonable. Letting everyone in the country petition you, on the other hand, is a stupid way to run a country. You'd never hear them all, you'd never get anything else done and if you've got any sense then you'd set up levels of officials for handling the things that most of them would be about anyway and if you build in a bypass everyone who doesn't get their way will use it. But I decided that hearing a few petitions a month might be a useful way to keep in touch with what was bothering people. And then I found out that while Mammon did originally implement a justice system, how it works from place to place could vary a lot. A few judges were even a bit dubious about the idea of binding precedent, which was reasonable when records couldn't be effectively shared across the settled territory and standardising precedence wasn't possible.

Of course, not all petitions have the same weight.

My eyes unfocus for a moment.

"Well, I haven't seen your dolly before today, but based on the description you gave me I think that it's in the gutter just above your room. And those girls were very naughty, and I'm going to ask your village watchman to have a word with their parents."

Kasrin sort of sways back and forth as her childish shyness overcomes her. Finding a lost doll for a six year old girl is the sort of thing I like to end on. The court recorders smile, and the people who read the published records will as well. When I had the brilliant idea of introducing moveable type and printing presses, I had the issue that there wasn't really any demand for it. Mammon hadn't exactly been demanding in his religious observances and he certainly didn't bother with a holy book, with the predictable result that literacy is uncommon. Newspapers didn't appear spontaneously because hardly anyone could read them and most people prefer to advertise through sponsorship. Reports of my ruling and judgements on the other hand have become quite popular.

Kasrin's mother awkwardly approaches her daughter. "And what do you say?"

Her daughter wiggles for a moment.

"Are you really a god?"

I hear the hiss from her mother, but I wave my right hand to tell her not to worry. And then I make pointed eye contact with Second Prime Abrax, who loosens his grip on his Ma'toc staff.

"Why do you ask?"

"My teacher says you're a snakehead."

"Your teacher?" She nods. "That would be…" Oh, seriously, Stargate Command. Already? "Missus Duxley?"

Kasrin nods lopsidedly, watching my in an odd half-interested sort of way.

"Well, I'm going to pick up Missus Duxley and bring her here, and then we can talk about it. Okay?"

Kasrin nods again and I plot a route and transition to next to Missus Duxley, who is marking some sort of test. "Seriously?"

She starts, sitting upright in her chair. "Lord Mammon? I-."

"'Snakehead'? Seriously?"

"Ah-."

I step forward and put my right hand on her left shoulder before returning us both to the audience chamber and releasing her next to her student before retaking my seat.

"Kasrin?" The girl… I think that she's starting to realise that she might have done something wrong. "You haven't done anything wrong, but that's a very important question you asked, and I want to make sure that I answer it properly. Do you understand?"

No, she's… Gone back into shy mode, clasped onto and half-hiding behind her mother's left leg. But I still need to have an answer, if only for the people who will read this tomorrow expecting light entertainment and who instead get hit right in the theology.

"Missus Duxley?"

"I… Don't think-."

"In future, comparative theology is for the over fourteens, alright?"

"I think she overheard me say something. I wouldn't have.. started that conversation."

"Wouldn't you? I've seen American intelligence agents do some very stupid things before. Poisoned shaving foam?"

"No, my.. job.. is just.. to teach."

"Well, I'm afraid that as a result of your loose lips you're going to be doing a public theology discussion with someone four thousand years old in front of his worshippers. And in all likelihood it's going to become a holy text. And I will be sending a sharply-worded letter to General Hammond, but I think that's punishment enough. So let's start with history."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Next

"About nine thousand years ago, System Lord Ra came across a world in his territory. The world had no name, as no System Lord had felt the need to name it and the primitive inhabitants had no real concept of 'world' or 'worlds'. In time, the world would come to be known to their descendants as 'Earth', and the people as 'humans'. Ra found that these people, your ancestors, made excellent servants, workers and warriors, and so he uplifted them, taking a portion of them to live on the worlds that he controlled. He then made pacts with other System Lords, each one being granted dominion over one part of Earth and the right to move its people into their domains. In exchange, they hailed him as Supreme System Lord and master of the galaxy."

"Humans were transported to thousands of worlds across the stars, granted lands to farm and mine. In return, they hailed those who took them there, granted them safety and order, as their gods. A few centuries later, on a world called Dakara, the greatest-" I nod at the Second Prime. "-of human warriors and their families were brought even closer to their gods when the first jaffa were created, humans granted great strength, long life and immunity to disease and poison by their gods in exchange for fighting in their service and carrying their infants in their abdominal pouches."

I focus on Mrs. Duxley.

"Is any of what I just said untrue?"

She hesitates.

I give her a small smile and a shrug. "Missus Duxley, you are not one of my people. Regardless of what you say, the worst I will do is send you home. Answer freely."

"That-. That's.. probably true as far as I know. I hadn't heard of Dakara, but I… Guess that jaffa had to come from somewhere. But that doesn't make you gods."

"The fact that we have entire worlds worshipping us doesn't make us gods."

She takes a breath, draws her self up and looks me straight in the eyes.

"No."

"Alright. What would?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're using the word 'god', so presumably you're attaching certain characteristics to it. How would you define a god?"

She shakes her head. "I'm a Christian. I don't define 'a' god in the sense of an actual thing because there aren't any. A god is a fictional being worshipped by people."

"And I'm not a god because I'm not fictional?"

"You're not a god because you're a… You're a three foot long serpentine parasite attached to that man's brain."

"And Jesus Christ was just a Jewish architect?"

"No, he's the son of God."

"No, come on. That's not how the Trinity works. Even I know that. He was at once the son of God and your god himself, a god made mortal to walk amongst mankind as one of them, to suffer and die as they do."

"That-. You.. should probably talk to a priest. And you're still a parasite."

"Technically, true." I tilt my head back and command Am-heh to crawl out of my mouth. Ow. I make my eyes go vacant as construct Am-heh wiggles at the crowd. For the humans it's the first time they've seen something like this. For the jaffa the only puzzling thing is why 'I'm' orange. Then I pull Am-heh back in. "But is that necessarily all that I am?"

"Yes, because you're not God."

I smile, bowing my head. "Ah, Christianity. You do realise that the Abrahamic religions are a product of folk memories of Ra and El, don't you? Ra's dead, but I can take you to meet El if you like. And his wife, Asherah."

She shakes her head. "The goa'uld left Earth three thousand years ago. Christianity is two thousand years old."

"And was it invented full cloth, or did it draw upon earlier traditions?"

"It-. Early on, it drew on Jewish traditions."

"Ah, there you are. But please don't be offended. I'm not singling your religion out. We were on Earth for six thousand years. There isn't much in Earth religion that isn't related to us."

"I don't need to add anything to 'parasite' to understand what you are. God is all-knowing and all-powerful and he created the universe. You're not, you aren't and you didn't."

I lean back in my chair. "What do you know about goa'uld genetic memory?"

"You.. know everything that your parents knew."

"Ah, everything that our mothers choose to pass on. And because that was true of their parents as well, all the way back to our original home, I have hundreds of thousands of years of memories. Given time, I can build almost any device used in goa'uld space. I have memories of hundreds of civilisations, thousands of species, millions of conversations with people and peoples long dead. I can call them to mind nearly as easily as I can talk to you now. I can concentrate a little and see any part of this world. With a little effort I can see any part of this star system-."

"With technology you try and tell people is 'magic'."

"That's just two different labels for the same thing. When we first encountered humans they didn't have the slightest notion of how our devices work. The word in that early language essentially translates as 'magic', and they kept using it even as we explained how to use it. I'll admit, we haven't been the best at explaining things, but that's not something that any goa'uld has ever had to do for another goa'uld because we're born knowing things like that. So we use a word that makes it sound like some sort of 'spiritually elevated mystery' and you use one that makes a quantum communicator sound like a door hinge." I shrug. "It's literally semantics. We're talking about the same thing. What's the difference?"

"The implication that they can only use it because you let them, whereas technology is something anyone can learn how it works."

"Do you know how your personal computer works?"

"Not in detail, but plenty of people do."

"Ah, of course. So, in summary, I'm a member of species that lives for thousands of years, knows more about everything than your entire species, is responsible for spreading humans to thousands of worlds, has devices that can do things you can't comprehend and is literally worshipped by a religion. Yes?"

"It's not that simpl-."

"Yes?"

"… Yes."

"And to you that doesn't say 'god' because your religion says that gods other than yours don't exist. But to my people it says 'god'. There's no practical disagreement, you're just applying a different label." I mock-frown at her. "And being weirdly insistent on it."

She takes a moment to assemble a reply. "I suppose you could look at it like that."

I smile at the crowd. I think that we've left them a little behind, but the court recorder is dutifully writing everything down. "Good! Good. So, in conclusion-."

I get up and walk up to Kasrin's mother before crouching down and smiling at Kasrin. She doesn't really respond.

"So, in conclusion, I'm both a 'god' and a 'snakehead', because those are one and the same thing. Do you understand?"

She shakes her head.

"Well, maybe you will one day." I reach out and gently pat her on the head. "Thank you for coming here today, Kasrin. Kiss your dolly for me, okay?"

"'kay."

I straighten up and smile at Mrs. Duxley.

"Thank you for coming. Please, return to your school. I'll have the letter for you to pass on to your superior later."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Later that day

"Look familiar?"

Second Prime Abrax takes hold of the automatic rifle I shamelessly copied from those SG7 pointed at me. We're in the armoury, which seemed like the best place for him to get a feel for the new weapons before we draft a plan for our wargames.

"Clearly, it is a-" He spots the trigger and pointedly keeps his fingers away from it. "-weapon of some sort, Lord." He looks at the magazine, goes to open his mouth and then hesitates. "No, Lord. I am not familiar with it."

"Abrax. Your master Lord Mahes is a God of War. That is his domain, and his mastery of it is rivalled only by other war gods. I am a God of Trade. My understanding of economics is superb, but my understanding of war is far more limited. No doubt Lord Mahes complained about me treating war as an exercise in logistics?"

He hesitates again. "My god did inform me that it is unlikely that we would be sent into battle soon."

I nod. "You are here because I can't possibly produce products for sale without knowing what the end user desires. So speak to me as a warrior to an armourer."

He looks at me askance. "That is not-. Ah, I do not question you, Lord Mammon. It-. This-."

I wave my right hand. "Speak freely and without care, Abrax. The worst I will do is return you to your god, and it is paramount that you and I understand one another in this exercise."

"I do not… Understand."

I raise my eyebrows. "Can you narrow it down a little?"

"Your manner, Lord. No god I have heard speaks as a mortal speaks, yet…"

He's tense. Bastet's underlords are less inclined to execute their jaffa and human followers for doing what they're told in a displeasing way than some, but there are still some fairly definite red lines.

"A king gives commands. A general issues orders. A merchant converses. People are far more likely to buy from someone who they like. That's why I don't usually bother with the voice. But if it would make you happier, I could do so?"

He nods. "It is… What I am accustomed to."

"Very well. What else?"

"You tolerated the heretic speaking out in your court." He frowns, grimacing. "The child spoke in ignorance, and I understand why you were merciful. But I do not understand why you tolerated such blatant disrespect."

"Because she's too useful to discard. Because we do simplify things for our followers, and as mine learn more they need to know how they are supposed to deal with understanding what their grandparents would have simply called 'magic' and avoided thinking about. Because my job is to persuade those who disagree with me to see things my way, and sometimes that cannot be done in a single meeting."

He's still frowning, but he nods.

"Now, that weapon. Tell me your impressions."

"It is… Short." He grips the stock, squeezing and shaking it to try and determine how solid it is. "As a melee weapon it has poor reach, through it may be more manoeuvrable than a Ma'Tok and so negate the need."

I nod. "There's an attachment point for a knife on the barrel, but the designers generally assumed that it would be used almost entirely for shooting."

He holds the stock in his right hand and lightly grips the magazine with his left. "This is the source of its power?"

"No. Where a Ma'Tok staff or a Zat'nik'tel use a liquid power source that can fuel thousands of shots, these weapons use solid ammunition which is propelled by an alchemical explosive. It can fire only those shots physically placed inside. That-" I point to the magazine. "-is their container. Just press-" I point to the magazine release. "-there."

He moves the hand on the stock to hold the middle section of the gun, then presses the release. He nearly drops the magazine as it falls into his hand; perhaps he was just expecting it to come loose? Then he lifts it up to he can examine the rounds.

"They seem… Small."

"They hit with considerably less force than-." Hm. "It just occurred to me that you have only used the standard issue Ma'Tok staff."

"I do not understand, Lord."

"The version issued to Ra's forces has a little more kick to it. A privilege of being sworn to the Supreme System Lord. A hit from a normal Ma'Tok will burn a hole in a man's chest. Ra's version would cave his chest in and send him flying as if kicked by a mule as well. But you are correct. Each bullet hits with far less force than a blast from a Ma'Tok staff."

His frown deepens as he slots the magazine back into the gun and then shifts it to a from-the-hip firing position. Realising that that's clearly incorrect, he raises it to the off-the-shoulder position jaffa use for aimed staff shots. Then he thinks for a moment and moves it so that the stock rests against his shoulder instead.

"Is this correct, Lord?"

"Just so."

"The small metal circle above the barrel is a sight. The magazine allows the ammunition to be drawn-." He moves the rifle off so that he can examine it again. "No. There is no source of power. It is purely mechanical. The ammunition is fed into the launching mechanism."

He moves to a firing lane and releases the magazine again before putting it on the bench. Then he returns the rifle to his shoulder and pulls the trigger, which does not move. Frowning, he lower the gun and looks it over for a moment before finding the safety switch. He can't read the writing, but there are only three settings. He selects the first, single shot. Then he raises it to his shoulder and aims at the target.

Click.

"It is a hammer. A contact trigger. It strikes the ammunition. What is the delay between shots?"

"Less than a second. If you move that dial again, it will continue to fire again and again until the magazine is empty. Thirty shots, though there are larger versions."

"I can see an advantage against an unarmoured foe, but against armoured jaffa surely it would achieve little?"

"That depends on their armour. Many gods only equip their jaffa with light armour, designed to absorb fire from energy weapons. These kinetic weapons will pierce it."

His frown deepens, then he raps his knuckles against his own trinium heavy plate. "And against my armour?"

"Not easily. They would have to hit the joints, or shoot the eyes of your helmet to force you to expose your head. Or use a larger version."

He nods, returning the magazine to the gun. "This weapon seems… Simple, compared to the workings of the gods."

"Its designers are the tau'ri. The humans of the original human homeworld. They have no god to instruct them in the higher magics, but they have made considerable progress in mastering the lower ones by themselves."

"If they have no god, then who do they make war upon?"

"Oh, each other. In the three thousand years since Ra left I don't think a single year has gone by without one group on their world making war upon another."

He shakes his head. "Foolish, and wasteful. They should be conquered and corrected as swiftly as possible."

I nod. "A fine warrior's answer. But I am a merchant. Now, try firing it. Though I will-"

He raises the gun and fires, bullet narrowing missing the bull's-eye as he winces at the BANG.

"-warn you that it's a little louder than a Ma'Tok staff."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 1999
11:34 MDT

I try to keep a look of mild interest on my face as I'm led through the military facility where Earth keeps its stargate, even as I frantically data mine everything, their records, their research, their music and film library and the location of the planet…

I know where Earth is relative to everything else now. Not that I intend to share that with Bastet, but…

Haaaa…

Obviously I need to check that the film Stargate wasn't some sort of huge cover story for America's real stargate program. I'm not-. I know I won't find my family out there, in this Earth's Britain. But I'd like to visit anyway. Just to hear familiar-sounding voices.

But-. Focus. They had a physical barrier that could extend over the front of their stargate, though the gate itself was fixed in place. The only defences inside were a couple of fixed autocannons, though there is enough space for a squad to form up at the bottom of the ramp. That would be nasty for an attacker to charge into, but… Honestly, a couple of cannons could fire through the gate and kill everyone in the room if they could get the right angle, and from the way there was a blast shield over part of the wall at the opposite end of the room I suspect that they've got a control room overlooking the gate.

That's… An interesting design.

The soldiers escorting me aren't people I recognise from any previous contact, and they're not looking at me. I wasn't searched for weapons when I arrived, though I did make a point of showing that I wasn't wearing a kara kesh. We… Haven't passed anyone else in the corridor, probably because the route was cleared beforehand. I haven't been shown anything that would give me any idea what the surface looks like, or what the time or date are… If I didn't have a power ring.

Professional, but insufficiently paranoid.

I'm led to the door to a conference room, and my escort takes up position on either side of the door as their leader opens it for me.

"General Hammond is waiting for you."

I smile at him- "Thank you." -and then head on through.

At the head of the table is a bald and overweight man I assume to be the General. He's in his dress uniform, block of coloured ribbons representing medals included. Not sure whether that's a gesture of respect or an attempt to intimidate. If it's the latter… I don't know what he accomplished when he was younger and in shape, but he's not much of a threat now.

Three other people line the opposite side of the table. A short-haired blonde woman, a grey-haired man and Doctor Daniel Jackson, who has visited Syrania a few times.

He looks.. a little down.

"Lord Mammon." I return my attention to General Hammond. We've never met in person, though he's the one who signed off on all of our trades to date. Interesting that it's a General who is in charge rather than a civilian government official. The… State Department, I think it's called? "I am General George Hammond of Stargate Command. This is Colonel Jack O'Neill,-" Grey-haired man. Looks… Different to how I remember him. "-Major Sam Carter-" Blonde woman. Don't remember her. "-and you've already met Doctor Jackson. Please, take a seat."

"Thank you."

I hold out my right hand towards him, and after a moment's hesitation he half-rises and shakes it. Colonel O'Neil.. half raises an eyebrow at his colleagues as I hold it out to him, but he responds in kind without noticing the warning look from General Hammond. Major Carter is already holding out her hand, and only grimaces a little when I turn it aside and kiss her knuckles. Doctor Jackson-

"Peace be with you, Lord Mammon."

-manages to shake hands without incident, but he-. Yeah.

"Is something the matter, Doctor Jackson?"

"I-. Ah." Colonel O'Neil flashes me a small frown, while Doctor Jackson doesn't know where to look. "My-. My wife was.. abducted by Apophis."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Wait. "I heard that Amaunet took a new host a.. while ago. Is that..?"

He nods awkwardly. "We-. She died, recently."

"Ah." I nod. "I suppose that explains why I'm here. I don't have a sarcophagus device myself, but I could probably talk Lord Bastet into letting me use hers for a 'favoured servant'."

His eyebrows shoots up as he stares at me. "What?"

"Or are you-" I look at General Hammond. "-looking to buy a sarcophagus? I mean, I can get one, but it'll be expensive. Ah." I turn back to Dr. Jackson. "Best keep the body at between one and four degrees. Freezing it's a bad idea but you need it cool to impede decay." Huh. I frown. "Although given that she was a host, perhaps a little short term memory loss wouldn't be a bad thing?"

There's a certain amount of concerned looking around, but Colonel O'Neil is looking at me.

"And you're not at all concerned about sarcophaguses making you evil? Or is that a gimme for a goold?"

I frown. "I mean, they do cause brain lesions with repeated use, but it takes dozens of uses before it produces a noticeable change in the patient's behaviour. It's only a problem for goa'uld because we live so long. And… Anyone-. Any goa'uld with a kara kesh could fix them once they know they're there. Or I could do it."

I make a glowing orange spike appear from my left palm.

"I'd throw that in. For valued business partners."

Dr. Jackson's head whips around to face General Hammond. "General-."

"Go-" He nods. "-and make sure that your wife's body is being preserved properly."

Dr. Jackson is on his feet immediately- "Thank you." -and he's halfway to the door before he remembers me. "Ah, thanks-. Thank you."

"Think little of it. I'm happy to help."

And he's gone, at something of a clip. I smile at the swinging door, and then turn back to-.

Oh. Right. Colonel O'Neil's… Son.

"Ah… I'm sorry, but in your case…" I waggle my right hand back and forth. "Too much time has passed. There-" His eyes harden for a moment as he works out what I'm referring to, though his actual facial expression doesn't change from the mildly disinterested expression that appears to be his default. "-wouldn't be enough.. to work with."

"Mm." He sits back slightly. "So what exactly are you expecting in return for this act of generosity?"

Interesting point. Now that I've stolen their entire technical database, I don't need to trade for that side of things. So…

"Well, there's no point discussing it as a separate item. I assume that you wanted to have this talk here rather than an unoccupied world somewhere because you want something significant?"

Major Carter nods. "We'd like to significantly increase the amount of naquada you supply to us."

I make a show of thinking about it, then shrug. "That's… I mean, I can do it, but most of Lady Hestet's excess production is going on Lady Bastet's ship-building program. And my own build-up. I can double what I sell to you now without anyone caring, but anything above that is going to be very expensive. Same with trinium, if you were wondering."

Colonel O'Neil nods. "Can you get us a used Ha'tak with one careful owner?"

"Hah." I shake my head. "You couldn't afford it."

"Perhaps." General Hammond makes a open-hand gesture with his right hand. "But it would be helpful to my superiors to know what the price would be if we could."

How much..? Taking a Ha'tak from a minor goa'uld on the other side of the galaxy, killing or removing the crew and then flying it here… I could do it, but.. I don't know that I could conceal that someone glowing orange did it, and that's a risk.

"Two hundred thousand tonnes of gold and unrestricted tax-free access to your markets without intermediaries in perpetuity. And you'd have to arrange delivery, because I actually don't have a way to get it here without telling anyone paying attention that there's something going on in this system."

"Yeah, we…" Colonel O'Neil's eyes drop to the table. "Can't afford that."

I shrug. "Then let's see what you can afford."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 1999
13:13 MDT

"Well, no. I mean, we all can." I shrug in answer to Major Carter's question. "Genetic-." I frown. "You're aware of goa'uld genetic memory?"

She nods. "Goa'uld inherit their memories from their mothers."

We're taking a break in negotiations while General Hammond's staff frantically try to find out if there are any Akkadian-speaking welders on Earth, though I've pretty much accepted in my heart that we're going to end up using English as the Latin of Syrania: a language for the educated elite. The words we need for technology just don't exist in Akkadian, and the only other language we could use would be the main goa'uld language. And if I picked that then I'd need to bring in other goa'uld, and that's a hard no. Major Carter is on goa'uld-sitting duty with me in the canteen, and I'm sure that the presence of what's starting to feel like half the garrison is due to a fortuitous shift-change.

It's nice to be able to get familiar fruit again.

"The first hosts we took were primitive tribals-. The first hosts we remember were primitive tribals. I've long suspected that we probably used large animals before that, but their minds were too simple to encode anything. But we remember everything since then. I know how to start a fire with flint and kindling and how to build a starship and everything in between. Of course I know how to teach welding myself. Just about all goa'uld do. I'd have to practice with the actual tools your people use to get used to their precise specifications, but it wouldn't be all that hard."

She raises her eyebrows a little and snorts. "I guess I just find it a little hard to picture 'gods' in a workshop."

"Hephaestus, Vulcan, Igbo, Ogun, Qaynan, Kagu-tsuchi… Plenty of goa'uld have an interest in smithing or ship-building. I suspect the issue is that you've only fought the more… Snobby.. goa'uld. Those who style themselves as god-kings."

"And who've spent centuries using a sarcophagus."

"Probably doesn't help."

"So why don't you just use other goa'uld? Even if you don't have any jaffa yourself, Bastet does."

"Ah… That… Wouldn't work. Goa'uld aren't… Sociable. You.. humans are troupe apes, we're solitary symbiotes. You instinctively seek to surround yourselves with others like you, while we also instinctively try to surround ourselves with others like you. People less knowledgeable than us, less physically capable than us. People whom we can lord it over and lead. Put a newly spawned goa'uld in a teaching role and they'll act out because they haven't mastered their instincts yet."

"I hadn't thought of it like that." She frowns. "Actually, aren't there a lot more prim'ta in jaffa than you need to replace your numbers?"

I breathe in sharply. "Oooh, yes."

"So, what happens to them? If you can't work together, it seems that you should have a whole lot of adult goa'uld. And you don't, so where are they?"

"They get eaten."

She blinks. "Excuse me?"

"They get eaten. I sometimes wonder if that's why Ra didn't use jaffa; he recognised that while it was a convenient way to get physically superior soldiers it would just create problems in the longer term."

She's starting to look disturbed. "So… Do you just throw them in a lake or.. something?"

"No, no. Mature prim'ta with no host to move into get stuck in storage jars and then eaten by the dominant goa'uld in the area in what is probably a re-enactment of our instinctual pre-sophoncy culling practice."

She's actually going a little pale, staring at my face on the off-chance that I'm making a joke.

"Major… Goa'uld are a little like vampires. The ideal situation for a goa'uld is one where all the other goa'uld are extinct and no one really believes in goa'uld any more. And… Anyway, you've killed plenty of infant goa'uld; you kill one every time you kill a jaffa."

It.. looks like that hadn't occurred to her.

"We've.. never been sure exactly how old prim'ta are."

"Anything from a couple of hours to a couple of years. You can go up to about six years, but that's pushing it. Goa'uld have the knowledge of their forebears from birth, but it can take a while to get things straight in our head."

"Pushing it? What happens if the prim'ta doesn't get removed?"

"The pouch starts to feel unsafe. The prim'ta will become more physically active, which will be pretty painful for the jaffa. Ultimately… We can take jaffa as hosts, which is probably what would happen. That or the prim'ta would inflict serious internal injuries and then leave, though that would only happen if there was a body of water nearby and they were planning to escape there." I frown thoughtfully. "So you should probably get your shol'va in the habit of swapping his baby goa'uld out after every fire fight. You don't want to get stuck somewhere when it ages out. And don't forget to kill the discarded baby afterwards."

"How can-?" She takes a moment to think her question through. "You don't act like other goa'uld. I don't understand how you can say things like that."

I shrug. "We have a different reproductive strategy to you. We don't usually bond with our offspring like you do. Though the few exceptions-." I chuckle. "Have you heard of a group called 'Against Ra'?"

She clearly has. "No? Who are they?"

"Major, I would advise against taking up poker. Certainly, don't try playing it against people with hundreds of thousands of years of human facial expressions committed to memory." Her eyes dip for a moment. "Like that. 'Against Ra' are the last children of the goa'uld queen Egeria, Ra's queen before Hathor. Before she finally got killed, she created an entire generation of children.. twisted around so that they hate everything about themselves, to the point that they have a hissy fit if you even refer to them as 'goa'uld'. They were supposed to be a revenge weapon against Ra." I snort. "A shame she didn't give them any common sense."

"What makes you say that?"

"I need to come to you for teachers because I can't trust other goa'uld to do the job. If I was a queen, I could just breed a generation of goa'uld who really want to teach people things. Take them, fly to an isolated world off the stargate network with a few thousand humans and start teching up. Within five hundred years, there would be no more System Lords. But no: the Against Ra are BY DESIGN too overwhelmed by their hatred to act rationally."

I frown. "Actually, while I'm here… What exactly is your organisation's long term goal? What are you trying to achieve here?"

"I'm.. afraid that information is classified. I can't talk about it. If you want, you can ask General Hammond-."

"Are you familiar with the Hague Convention?"

She stops, looking at me. "Yes. Of course. I don't know how you are, but the laws of war are covered in our officer training."

"One of the requirements on all signatories is that belligerent parties state their war goals when declaring war or engaging in a policing action. Given Stargate Command's activities to date, I was assuming that you consider yourself to be at war with the System Lords as a polity. Since I'm part of that polity, I would sort of like some assurance that I'm not helping you genocide my entire species. There are a few of us I quite like."

"We're not trying to exterminate your entire species."

"See, you say that, but I'd like to know if that's actually written down somewhere. You're a soldier fighting in this conflict. What is your war goal?"

"I'll…" Colonel O'Neil walks into the canteen and heads towards our table, giving Major Carter a nod. "Have to get back to you. Excuse me."

She gets up, makes some sort of exasperated facial expression I can't see from here to the Colonel -who doesn't respond- and walks out of the canteen while the Colonel-.

Teal'c walks in behind him, face expressionless, and heads over to join-.

"So…" O'Neil regards me curiously as he sits down across from me, head tilted slightly to the side. "You know you're not a god, right?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 1999
13:18 MDT

"Are you seriously doing good-soldier bad-soldier? Because if so I've got tens of thousands of years of memories of-."

Teal'c sits down one table away from us, staring at me challengingly.

"Interrogation, and I thought when the shol'va wasn't in the room during negotiations that was because you had the sense to realise that would be unproductive." I make the expected expression of distaste, grudgingly glancing at him before returning my attention to O'Neil.

"For me to betray a god they would have to be a god."

Now I turn my body towards him, meeting his eyes directly.

"Tell that to the jaffa who served under you who you shot in the back during your betrayal." I get up and walk across the room until I'm standing opposite him with the table between us. "Do you remember their names? Their faces? You must have trained with them, served with them for years. Their families? Your wife and son lived in that area, didn't they? Kill any family friends? No regrets there, murdering men who trusted you, you miserable backstabbing shol'va?"

I let my eyes flare, though his face remains impassive.

"I regret that I could not turn them away from the cause of the false gods."

O'Neil follows me over, sitting sideways on the seat next to me. It seems that they've been authorised to put me under a little pressure and see how I react. Alright, not unreasonable.

"And what being above us would you worship in our place?"

"I would not. I would have the jaffa stand on our own."

"You literally can't. You have one of us in your body now. Without us you die in a few hours, as we intended when we raised the jaffa up to be our most favoured servants."

"When you send us to die by the thousands for the sake of your vanity, it does not feel like we are being favoured."

"Try living like a human and then compare the two existences." I snort. "And I note that you say nothing of the fate of the humans living under goa'uld. Are they not relevant to you, shol'va? Do you consider them beneath you, as we goa'uld taught you they are? Do you believe yourself to be a warrior by divine providence?"

"No."

I allow my eyes to dim. "Then what's the plan? How do you intend to be free of us?"

"In each jaffa settlement we will have a pool where a goa'uld queen exists to breed prim'ta, who will be discarded when they reach maturity. We will use you as you use us."

"We make you our most favoured servants, and you will make our children your slaves. It is almost a shame that you haven't used your time away from Lord Apophis to learn actual morals."

His face hardens ever so slightly.

"And in answer to your question, Colonel O'Neil, as far as I'm concerned 'god' is the label applied to us by your ancestors. If you want to apply another one now, I won't be offended."

"I like goold."

"Then I shall call you 'Jon On'el', because I can be just as petty-" Major Carter marches back into the canteen, a thin binder in hand. "-as… You?"

She puts it down in front of me. There's a State Department seal on the cover, and the title… 'Opinion of the Office of the Attorney General on Off-World Warfare'.

O'Neil looks at her. "Carter?"

"He asked why we were fighting them, sir. It's not classified. I checked."

Hopefully this one did a little better than Bush's 'torture is totally legal, guys' Attorney General. I open it-. Hague Convention, there we go. Flip through a few pages-.

'Elimination of threats to the US and its interests', not helpful. That covers the elimination of literally every weapon in the universe not controlled by the US or its allies. In fact, according to Project for the New American Century, including its allies, as well as economic threats. Technically a car being driven legally that could in theory hit a US citizen is covered. Is there more detail..? No. 'Protection of allies and non-combatants'… So they're taking the position that they need to actively intervene anywhere where anyone fighting could endanger non-combatants. It also means that an ally could start a fight, start losing, and expect the US to fully commit to bailing them out. 'Recovery of US personnel and equipment', there's the Space Hague Invasion Act. Nothing about it being legitimate for us to invade them to take our stargate back.

I shake my head. "This is a terribly drafted legal opinion. Was your Attorney General not fully briefed, or were they instructed to give you loosely-worded legal cover for anything you felt like doing?"

O'Neil looks unmoved. "Isn't that his.. job?"

"Put it this way. If the System Lords wanted to surrender tomorrow, how does this-" I tap the page. "-tell them what that involves? What are your concrete demands? If your enemy doesn't know what you're fighting for, they can't give it to you. Honestly, we have better documents than this."

Or we did, until Ra died. Now the interstellar order has rather fallen apart, without a top level power to stamp on flagrant breaches of protocol. Bastet would enforce treaties between her underlords but that's the most I've got.

O'Neil flicks his right hand to the side. "We'd quite like it if you gave up slavery."

"I don't own any slaves. Slavery is actually illegal in Bastet's domain."

"Uh-huh."

"Yuh-huh." I raise my right hand and create a full copy of Bastet's Maat Code, putting it on the table. "There you go. Most places have a primary industry and it would be difficult for a person born there to work anywhere else, but they're not property. They get paid and have protection under the law."

O'Neil raises his right hand as Teal'c takes the book. He extends his right index finger and moves it towards me, stopping with it an inch from my forehead.

"You got one slave right there."

"I-. Ooh, you want to talk to my host." I shrug. "Okay. Just a moment."

I create a large vase and fill it with water, then create a pillow on the table in front of me and take a seat before leaning forwards and resting my head on it. I turn my head to the side so that my mouth is facing the vase.

"Just stick me back in when you're done."

O'Neil looks at Carter in confusion while Teal'c looks on impassively. Right. Mask brain activity, minimise heartbeat and breathing while perceiving the world through Am-heh who climbs out of my mouth and slivers towards the jar before climbing into it and coiling up in the bottom to watch me.

They look cautiously at Am-heh for a moment, then give my body their full attention as they wait for the 'host' to wake up.

Naturally, nothing happens.

After a moment, O'Neil pokes me.

"Sir, I wouldn't-."

"Shouldn't he.. wake up?"

Teal'c frowns very slightly. "In every incidence I have seen of a goa'uld abandoning their host, the host either recovers swiftly or dies swiftly."

Carter immediately checks my pulse. "His pulse is weak, but it's there. Breathing too. Sir, I think we should get him to the infirmary."

What?

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 1999
13:31 MDT

General Hammond walks into the infirmary, minus his jacket. He looks around at my recumbent body, Am-heh in the jar -I make him wave his tail, which is awkward for a goa'uld as they're not really designed with that range of motion in mind-, and three quarters of SG1.

Teal'c has been staring at Am-heh continuously.

"Could someone please explain to me why our guest is in the infirmary?"

They put a heavy book on top of the jar. Am-heh could get out, but a normal goa'uld wouldn't be able to and O'Neil knew that when he put it there.

O'Neil is the first to answer. "I can only assume he was feeling tired, sir."

Hammond looks at him for a moment, then turns to Major Carter.

"Mammon was insistent that goa'uld under System Lord Bastet don't have human slaves. The Colonel.. pointed out that he had a host, and he… Decided to leave him."

Hammond and Carter both look my way, so I have Am-heh wave his tail again.

"And the host?"

"We're-" She steps aside as some medical staff move an electroencephalograph machine into position. "-not sure, sir. He made.. it lay down before he left. He knew that… Whoever this is wasn't going to go anywhere."

Electrodes are attached and the machine is activated, and not a lot appears on the screen.

"Doctor Fraiser?"

"He's barely breathing, his heart is barely beating and he has no higher brain activity at all." The doctor turns to the General. "If I had to guess, I'd say that he was in a coma, but we know next to nothing about long term goa'uld hosts." She shrugs. "This could be normal or this could be abnormal."

"Is there any sign of a head injury?"

"No. Aside from the lack of brain activity, I'd say that he's in perfect health."

"Is he in any danger?"

"I don't know. Fundamentally, there's no difference between him and any other coma patient. I should be able to keep him alive indefinitely, but the chance of someone waking up from a coma decreases the longer it lasts."

Hammond nods, and then walks over to peer into the jar. "Why is it orange?"

Teal'c keeps staring. "I do not know, General Hammond. I have never seen a goa'uld with this pigmentation. Or who glowed. It appears unusually calm."

Hammond looks away, considering the situation for a moment. Then he turns back to Doctor Fraiser. "Doctor, will the host recover?"

"I couldn't tell you. We're doing blood tests to see if Mammon used any sort of drug to keep the host unconscious. A CAT scan might give us a better idea of what's going on in his brain, but I doubt it will tell us what the cause is."

"Teal'c, would a goa'uld use someone in a coma as a host?"

Teal'c considers for a moment. "I have never seen a goa'uld select a host who was not in perfect physical condition."

Hammond thinks for a moment. "What happens if we put the goa'uld back in?"

O'Neil raises his eyebrows. "Then.. we.. condemn this man to hundreds of years locked in his own body while Mammon uses it… Sir."

"Colonel, from what I'm seeing he's not using it himself right now. Naquada traded with Mammon makes up about half of what we get now. Ah don't see his people carrying that on if they hear about this."

Teal'c bows his head slightly. "If he were placed in a canopic jar and returned to Syrania, then he would simply take a new host. If you wish to continue trading with him, using someone who cannot awaken would be more merciful."

Major Carter frowns. "Wait. I think he was making a point."

O'Neil raises his left eyebrow. "That.. we're.. not as strong on the 'no slaves here' rule as I'd formerly believed?"

"He clearly knows what a slave is. He said that he doesn't own any. So what if he found a man with a head injury and picked him because he thought that was better."

Teal'c tilts his head slightly to the left. "I know little of Mammon's history, but nothing that I heard suggested that he was any more considerate than other goa'uld."

"Daniel said that Mammon was buried underground for two hundred years. And goa'uld can change. The Tok'Ra were made the way they are by Egeria, but she changed her mind by choice. If we put him back in… Maybe he has an explanation."

O'Neil gives her a flat look. "Would you volunteer?"

"If I was in a persistent vegetative state… Yeah."

Hammond looks at Dr. Fraiser. "Doctor?"

"Depending on the level of damage the host's brain has taken, the symbiote might be the only thing keeping him alive." She frowns, looking back at him. "Daniel said that you'd been able to get hold of a sarcophagus for his wife?"

"No, but he-" He nods at me. "-has."

O'Neil closes his eyes and exhales slowly. "Fine. I'll do it."

He walks over to the jar, Teal'c stepping out of the way to give him access. He picks up the book and sets it aside, then thrusts his right arm in and roughly grabs Am-heh just under his head. He then pulls him out and walks over to my body, holding Am-heh up to… His own head?

"Look grateful, you little bastard."

Then he shoves him towards my mouth and releases his grip. I make Am-heh squirm forwards and enter my mouth, give it a couple of seconds and then sit up, pulling the sensors off my head.

"I trust that was informative?"

General Hammond squints slightly. "Do you want to explain to me what that was about?"

"I said that I don't have slaves. I don't. If you'd been paying attention, you'd have realised that this body has an entirely different ethnic origin to the people of Syrania. Where did you think I got it? I was stuck under a mountain for two hundred years. I built this body. Cloned it. It doesn't have any higher reasoning functions of its own and it never did. The brain lights up when I activate those parts of the brain manually."

There's a very quiet-

"Ohh."

-from Colonel O'Neil.

"I could have switched to a different host, but I don't, because if I can come up with some advantage to this system I might be able to convince every goa'uld under Lord Bastet to release their hosts and accept synthetic replacements. And their hosts aren't slaves, they're volunteers. It's considered an honour."

O'Neil opens his mouth-.

"You don't like it? No one's asking you to do it. And while you're here, General." I recreate the 'Opinion of the Office of the Attorney General on Off-World Warfare'. "This is unhelpful legalistic bullshit designed to shield you against people in your own country suing you. It contains absolutely nothing that might lead to a cessation of hostilities with the people you're actually fighting. Take it back and get one with actual war-aims written in it, because while I don't think you did anything wrong in killing Ra, that act has resulted in a war that makes the period nineteen ten to nineteen fifty look like a minor border skirmish and you don't appear to know what you actually want out of the situation. Also."

I glare at O'Neil.

"A heavy book? Really? I voluntarily left this body. Putting captive enemies on display contravenes the Geneva Conventions and putting trading partners on display gets your prices jacked up."

Hammond looks at O'Neil. "Colonel?"

He moues awkwardly. "The book... May, have been a bit much."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 1999
13:38 MDT

"…is our lab."

Major Carter opens the door and leads the way inside.

I look around the science laboratory/workshop with some interest. It's far more sophisticated than anything I ever worked with at school, though thanks to Am-heh the partially-disassembled goa'uld devices on display are more familiar than the human analytical machines being used to study them.

"Mine's better."

"Maybe you can show me if I visit Syrania."

"I'd be happy to. You, I'm happy to invite." I frown. "Do you really have time to do research as well as your field missions?"

Her eyebrows rise for a moment. "Without wanting to say anything I might be called to testify about in the Hague, most of our missions are focused on finding technology to help with defending the Earth. Taking what I find apart and working out how it works is a part of my field missions."

"Ah." She looks curious. "Goa'uld are sometimes accused of only being able to copy technology that other species developed. It's pleasant to watch humans do things in the exact same way."

"It's not.. quite the same."

"I-" I nod. "-think it is. We dig up ancient technology, you dig up ancient technology…"

"But I've got access to teams of thousands of people who can work on reverse engineering anything we find."

I nod. "Which is why I'm trying to develop a similar technology base. Literally any goa'uld can outperform any human scientist, but we can't beat those numbers. We've stagnated as a society."

"And that's why you're trying to carry out an industrial revolution."

"And why I'm happy to talk to Earth. Or the United States, at least. My ideal solution involves the System Lords agreeing to leave Earth alone and for both sides to respect one another's borders. Fighting you doesn't get us anything, it just-. Apophis attacked you because you killed Ra and he wanted to establish his credentials before the other System Lords as Ra's successor. But Heru'ur wasn't ever going to decide not to fight him, so… Who was he trying to prove himself to? I haven't been able to check everywhere, but were you even using your stargate between your original journey to Abydos and the time when Apophis attacked you?"

"Setting up Stargate Command took-."

I nod. "You weren't, right. So he just.. stuck his arm in a meat grinder to prove a point… To himself, because he still hadn't gotten over Ra becoming Supreme System Lord ahead of him. I really wish you people hadn't killed Ra."

"He was planning to send a naquada-enhanced nuke through the stargate to Earth."

"And how did the nuke get there?"

She considers that for a moment, then shrugs awkwardly.

"Besides, if you rotate the stargate so that the open end is facing the ceiling, sending the bomb through probably wouldn't work. He'd think the Earth had a new crater, Earth would be fine, and your team could just dial back after he left."

"Did Ra know Earth's location?"

"Yes, of course he did, but he did nothing with that knowledge for three thousand years."

"Why?"

"Why? Because he had what he needed and Earth didn't have any rare resources." I shrug. "Usually, leaving human-inhabited worlds to their own devices doesn't cause problems. You must have seen enough worlds that the goa'uld have abandoned to know that."

"We're not the only technologically advanced human world."

"Sure, but how many are advanced enough to have faster than light travel? Because that's the point where they actually become a problem. With anything else, a mid-tier underlord can bombard them into dust with a single ha'tak. Or an asteroid and a couple of rocket motors."

"Apophis sent two ha'taks to Earth and we're still here."

"Yes, and no doubt you could do that again tomorrow with no warning-." I bow my head. "I'm sorry, that was unnecessarily threatening. And I know about your favoured status under the Protected Planets Treaty, and the System Lords are nowhere near ready for a new war with the asgard. But… You do need to understand that the only reason you're still here is that no one who could have dealt with you bothered to do so for three thousand years."

"We're working on that."

"You've seen our ships, our hyperdrives and you've got naquada. Given your industrial power, you could probably start building your own ships within a few years." I shake my head. "Honestly, through… It seems to me that you'd be best advised to cut down your stargate usage. You need to keep buying raw material that can't be found on Earth, but every encounter with us risks drawing attention that you're not ready for."

She doesn't look impressed.

"Now, once you have a few ships, things become different."

"You said that you can't sell us a ha'tak, and that's the only goa'uld ship that can fight other ha'taks."

"No, but I could get a team onboard a functioning ha'tak. Even a shipyard that was constructing one. You would have to pretend to be a human from Syrania who was there to learn the 'higher mysteries', but Lord Mahes already knows what I'm trying to do. He wouldn't question it. You could learn our ship-building techniques directly."

"And what do you want in return?"

I take a step closer, maintaining eye contact. "I'd need to be able to show Lord Bastet that the studying was happening on Syrania, so you would have to be based there. And teaching my people everything that you learn."

She glances aside. "I don't speak Akkadian. I don't think any of our scientists do."

"So we teach my people English. We'll have to do that anyway. I'll even throw in goa'uld tools and equipment."

"That's-. An interesting offer. I-."

The laboratory door opens and Teal'c enters, taking a moment to consider the two of us before speaking. "General Hammond has asked me to inform you that the stargate is available. You may return to Syrania."

"Shol'va-." I smile, taking care to make it obviously awkward. "Teal'c." He raises his eyebrows, looking unimpressed. "I have an offer for you."

"I am not interested."

"Now now, hear me out. You hate the goa'uld, yes?"

"We have been your slaves for nine thousand years."

"And I don't like you because you want to break the oath your ancestors made while still keeping all of the benefits. But it occurred to me that if you gave up those benefits, then you wouldn't have that moral obligation. And since you hate us and all our work, you must hate the fact that we have such an impact on your physiology. So how about it?" I extend my left hand in mock-benediction. "I can remove your prim'ta and all of the biotech supporting it from your body. Right now. You can carry on your life as an untainted human, with no obligation to the goa'uld. You wouldn't even be a shol'va any more. You'd still be a traitor, a backstabber and an oathbreaker, but only to your fellow servants of Apophis."

I step closer to him, reaching out with my glowing left hand.

"I can just-."

He takes a step backwards away from me. And I smile.

"So I was right. You want the benefits but don't want to pay the costs. How contemptible. Please let General Hammond know that I will be returning shortly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

31st March 2013
05:59 GMT +3

The five of us look down at the Aegean as Themyscira… Shimmers back into physicality. Or rather… Not shimmers exactly, but some parts of it shift physically to-. Still there, but… Like I'm having to interpret stimuli, a dream-image, rather than observing a physical object. And then it's there, as if it never left-.

"Great!" Kon smiles broadly. "Let's go down and meet everyone."

I check-. "Reformation island isn't back."

Alan smiles at me as Kon, Mitchell and Donna fly down towards Themyscira City. "That's a nice half-empty glass you've got there."

"I just don't trust John Constantine where I can't see him."

"Ah… Look… Paul, I've been meaning to say something… Do you think-?"

"Oh! I came up with a solution to the President problem. Right before I got sucked into Erebos, but-. I can tell you now."

"That-." He looks down as the other three disappear into the city. "Okay. Let's hear it."

"So we want a fig leaf of legitimacy, which means that doing a Vice Presidential shuffle is off the cards."

"Ye-ah. I'm not-. I don't want to talk about it in terms of it being a fig leaf. I want to follow the law as much as possible, because we can't be-. We shouldn't use this situation to rig things in our favour. It's anti-democratic and it's not right."

"With all due respect to the pirates and revolting thugs who founded your country, I don't think that they had this in mind when they wrote the rules for electing presidents."

"Sometimes, you go into a crisis with the rules you have, not the rules you'd like to have. So what's the solution?"

"We use magic to bind Knight to the idea of Kennedy. He gets motivation and actual moral beliefs and can actually do the job, and Kennedy gets to help his country one more time."

"And does Knight get a say in this?"

"Is Knight mentally competent to have a say in this?"

"Ah…" Alan averts his eyes for a moment. "Yeah… He may not seem like much, but if he was literally incompetent… The twenty-fifth Amendment to the Constitution covers that. And if he's competent to be President, then he's competent to make his own decisions."

"In that case, we talk to Kennedy about it, then get them a face to face meeting. I'd be surprised and disappointed if he said no, but… Yes, it's his decision."

"You know something? I remember the real Kennedy-."

"Yes, Alan, we all know that you're old."

"I wasn't keen on his mob connections or his affairs. Now, I admit I don't really understand how this.. whole.. magical America thing works, but are there… I don't know, negative side effects?"

"Do you mean, apart from radically altering his personality for the duration of the merger?"

"I mean, if he agrees to it… Yeah, apart from that."

"The Kennedy we encountered is a reflection of President Kennedy as he… Exists in an idealised version of the popular imagination. It won't cause a manifestation of his less than admirable real world traits."

"Then it sounds like a good solution." He frowns. "Unless it… Ah, it's not actually Kennedy, so the two term limit isn't a problem. I'll put it to the rest of the League, see what they think." He smiles. "You about ready to go down now?"

"Yes, I need to talk to Diana about-."

"Taking a day off?"

Ah.

"You know we keep a record of what you get up to, right?"

"I wasn't specifically aware of that, no. But I'm not surprised, and it's probably wise."

"You remember when Klarion killed all those kids and you worked yourself to exhaustion and Diana had to bench you? We've been keeping tabs on you since then. You've been putting in a lot of hours, and with Themyscira back…" He pauses to consider his best approach. "I'm not saying you're not needed, exactly, but we've gotten to the point where it's doesn't have to be all hands on deck all the time."

"Alright. I was a bit worried about tomorrow anyway."

"The First of April?" I nod. "Do you think Wally is going to prank you or something?"

"There was that thing with Ambush Bug two years ago, and then last year I… Had the same sort of visions of alternate versions of myself. Some of whom I ended up meeting when Krona abducted us. I want to make sure that there isn't some… Lingering effect on me that's magnifying the link between me and the other versions of me. I need to build equipment and… Then do nothing for a day."

"Ah… As long as you're taking it easy, I guess. Are you ready to talk to Diana now?"

"Actually, I… Do need to talk to her."

Alan frowns as we begin our descent. "Anything I need to be worried about?"

"Yes. Probably. But there are only so many examples I have to study so it's difficult to be sure."

"Don't keep a fellah in suspense. Do I need to start getting prostate exams again?"

"You know how you rejuvenated when your ring recharged?"

"Why did you think I stopped getting them?"

"Right. Thanks for that image." He smirks. "Thing is… I don't know if that's a state change or an ongoing process. Are you now a man who's partially emotional energy, or are you gradually becoming more emotional energy?" I shrug. "I've got the same thing with my tattoos, and-."

Below us I see Diana fly up towards us. She's back in her normal costume and I can't see any physical changes-.

"Hey, Diana! What was it like, being a goddess?"

"It was strange." We slow to a stop as she reaches our level. "I felt a deep connection to the fundamental nature of the people around me, to the very concept of truth and rightfulness. But at the same time, it was almost… As if I was not acting but instead being moved by that connection. Now that I am just myself again, I don't think I miss it." She notices my facial expression. "Ah."

"Yes. I'm not certain, but it would make sense for your metaphysique to have adapted to the higher energy level. It would probably have happened eventually anyway, and-. And as I said to Alan, I can't be sure because not enough people have had this happen to them. But I suspect that you'll start drawing more magic from your environment, and… Start being more like a goddess than you are now. You should ask Mister Zatara or Doctor Balewa to get some baseline readings in the next few days."

She nods solemnly. "I will. Do you have more ill-tidings, or can we all enjoy the celebration now?"

"No, that's it. And according to Alan I could do with the respite. Work is officially over for today."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th October 1999
08:02 GMT

Well… That's… Completely terrifying.

At Secondary School we didn't have separate biology, physics and chemistry G.C.S.E.s. Instead, we had something called Science Double Award G.C.S.E. which compressed the three down into two. I'm not sure what the difference would have been, but… Physics wasn't my best subject. So much of what is supposedly true about the nature of spacetime just sounds so ridiculous…

And that's a black hole.

I've read Stargate Command's records on the incident, and… And honestly, it made me want to go and live in a universe with sensible physical laws. But between Am-heh's ancestor's understanding of real physics and my own desire for the stupid suck-hole to leave me alone-.

"-od we can still-."

The man I believe to be Major Boyd jerks around, taking in his still-stationary comrades and.. the man hanging in the air next to them, and then looking up at me.

"Are you..? Am I dead?"

"No."

"Oh fuck."

"You're not really my type, but get a few drinks in me and who knows where the evening might take us?"

He stares at me.

"What?"

"Better. Now, my name is Lord Mammon. I am currently Stargate Command's leading supplier of naquada and I'm here to… Ah, let's be generous and say 'rescue' you."

He considers that. Then he looks up at the black hole in the sky behind us. "How?"

"Gravity shielding. Technically, any species with artificial gravity technology could do this, I'm just better at it."

He nods distractedly. "My team?"

"I thought that briefing the team leader first would be the thing to do. My plan is to take the five of you back to my homeworld while your superiors arrange the novel plant varieties that I want to trade you for, then send you on your way."

"And which of us is getting a snake in our head?"

"As long as the snake is a consenting adult, I'd frankly rather not know. Are you coming, or do you want to stay-" I point my right thumb at the black hole. "-here?"

11th October 1999
12:37 GMT

I sit up in my lounger and take a long sip through my banana milkshake's straw. Oh, Neper grows a sort of plantain-marrow thing on Cannett, but it's not the same. And then I lean back as the ring continues to scan right through that cloaking field the nox have around their flying city. No weapons worth anything, but their anti-gravity system is jolly interesting and cloaking something with that sort of power output is no mean feat.

"Hello?"

I tilt my head-. Ah, one of the local hippies. A young male.

"Good morning." I grip my milkshake and shake it at him. "Want one?"

He gives me the mildest frown imaginable. "I was wondering… Do you know why I can't feel you?"

"Because you're not touching me?"

"No. It's like… You have no life force at all?"

"Is that some sort of… Extra sensory perception thing? Because I'm wearing a force field, so it might be blocking it."

I could scan him. The nox are supposed to have some sort of innate biological ability to heal others. If I could create a cell suspension that duplicated it, we could do away with the sarcophagus. Or I could give a mindless clone to Bastet…

No, too much risk. I'll just be happy with what I'm getting.

"Huh. Yes."

"I mean, I'm not an expert on your abilities-."

"I would like one."

"Rightoh." I focus on my desire to give the young hippy who's probably never known another way of life at least one benefit of consumer society and a new milkshake appears in the air before him. "Enjoy."

He takes the glass in both hands and takes a sip. Then he pulls a face.

"I don't like it. Is there milk in it? I'm not a baby."

"It's a milkshake; it's mostly milk. You don't like it, don't drink it."

He drops it, spilling it on the ground, and then looks around. "Are you hunting? That doesn't usually work very well."

"No. Not hunting. It doesn't usually work very well."

"Then what are you here for?"

I shrug. "Got any good fruit?"

12th October 1999
16:52 GMT

The stargate closes and those naughty robots of Altair finally stroll through. Stargate Command's reports say that they buried the gate, so I decided to borrow Lord Bastet's calculation system and locate this planet manually. Of course, they haven't buried the gate, and Harlan is awkwardly heading for the gate to welcome them back.

Stealth drones built with a combination of goa'uld and nox technology have scoured the facility and the land outside. Their shielding protects them from the intense radiation and acid rain, and I've already identified dozens of sites of interest. I'm not really sure who used to live here, but a cursory examination suggests that their technology was at least equal to that of the goa'uld.

Messing up your world this badly takes effort.

I could break into the facility with force, or hack into the entrance computers, but I think something a little less confrontational would be better.

Plug that drone into the exterior communication system…

Transmit.

"Hello Altair base. Please respond."

The ring shows me the team looking around, and then looking at Harlan's retreating back. He leads them into some sort of command centre-.

"Comtrya?"

"Comtrya to you, too. My name is Mammon, and I'm a merchant. I have a proposition for you and your colleagues. Might I have your permission to enter your home and discuss it?"

O'Neil 2 nudges Harlan aside. "And what happens if we say 'no'?"

"Then I salvage the surface on my own and then leave you to it. Some jolly interesting stuff up here. I.. think that's a space ship. Oh, I've also got a better battery system, stargate network map, goa'uld scientific and technical tools and farm fresh produce, and… I also acquired a full record of every episode of The Simpsons?"

O'Neil looks around, getting nods from his team and a confused shrug from Harlan.

"Alright. We'll meet you by the main door."

"I will see you shortly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 1999
17:18 GMT

"So that's the basics. I need a-" I gesture to Captain Carter. "-scientist, a linguist-" Mister Jackson, since he technically doesn't have a doctorate. "-and a couple of soldiers who are a little more creative than the jaffa average."

Harlan glances awkwardly at the other four. "Um."

"I assumed that you'd want to stay here and bring the place up to full working order after I've dealt with the conditions outside."

O'Neil squints at me. "Can we go back to the part where you're a goold?"

"Are you aware that the word 'robot' comes from-?"

Daniel snaps back to full awareness. "From the Czech 'robota', meaning forced labour, which was itself derived from 'rab', meaning 'slave'. Can we go back to my wife being free?"

I nod. "Teal'c killed Amaunet, Doctor Brightman removed the corpse of the goa'uld and then I lent them a sarcophagus and she's recovering at Stargate Command."

"Okay." Captain Carter pats him on the shoulder and he jerks his head around in surprise. She gives him a supportive smile. "I just-. I.. didn't…"

"I understand." Teal'c nods. "You assumed that if she returned that it would be to you. I am similarly estranged from my own family."

"Yeah, I-." He focuses on me. "Thank you. Even if I never see her again, just knowing that she's alright…"

"'Alright' might be a bit much. The culture shock from living at Stargate Command was a bit extreme, and being a host isn't much fun for most people."

O'Neil frowns. "About that."

"This body is a mindless clone. I did this whole thing with your organic counterpart where I got out and they gave it a brain scan and found no higher reasoning going on."

Carter looks surprised. "You can do that? Then why do goa'uld take host at all?"

"Because it's convenient, I'm afraid." I shrug awkwardly. "Goa'uld aren't communal primates. We're solitary stealth predators and symbiotes. We don't have the social instincts that humans do. It has its good points; humans who are socially isolated tend to go a bit peculiar while goa'uld would be fine. But the downside is that we don't really care about other people suffering until it starts to affect us." Hm. "Well, Stanley Milgram. Even more so than humans. We don't feel any guilt or remorse about taking a host, even if they're screaming in terror and actively resisting us. And cloning is time consuming, and technologically complicated if you want an adult body. So… Why bother when you're surrounded by perfectly good bodies?"

O'Neil cranes his neck towards me slightly. "You're not really selling me on this whole-" He makes a circling motion with his right hand. "-'cooperation' thing."

"I… Had some considerable time to reflect upon our situation. And I still believe that having goa'uld in charge has a number of advantages. We have far less war than Earth does, for example. But we're… Well…"

"Kinda nuts?"

"That's.. not unfair. It's a… Selection pressure thing, like how there are so many psychopaths in boardrooms. Without a body of educated humans to draw on there's no benefit to being diplomatic. If I got hold of an agreeable queen…" I shrug. "Well. That's not going to happen. But the point I want to make is that we're not cruel for fun-. I mean, as a species. Some of us are. We're just ruthless."

O'Neil slowly shakes his head. "O… Kay..?"

"If I can show Lord Bastet and my fellow underlords that there are advantages to having an educated human population, there's a good chance that they'll go along with it. And if Lord Bastet becomes more powerful, she may be able to convince others to reform as well, or… Just conquer them. If you want to improve the lives of humans across the galaxy, it may work better to work to improve things from the inside rather than… Declare war on the entire galaxy like Stargate Command has."

Teal'c raises his left eyebrow. "That would be a great change in goa'uld behavior."

"It would." I nod. "Lord Bastet knows what I'm doing. I need this to be a success. My people need this to be a success, because if it's not then I'll probably be killed just after they are."

"Ah-." Jackson cuts himself off, then looks around to see if anyone else wants to ask a question. Seeing that no one does, he turns back to me. "Do other goa'uld feel this way? I know the.. Tok'Ra have been trying to overcome the System Lords since-."

"No."

"No?"

"Without a Queen, the Against Ra can't replenish their numbers. They take human hosts, but don't recruit humans into their organisation otherwise. They're just as uncreative as most goa'uld and the methods they use cannot result in their victory. I assume that Queen Egeria made them the way she did because she wanted to infiltrate Ra's feudal hierarchy and destroy it from within because their whole mental setup seems completely… They can't win as they are."

"Oh?" Captain Carter looks curious. "What should they be doing?"

"Pretend to be normal goa'uld, take over somewhere and outcompete their neighbours because all of their scientists could work together without intriguing against each other. Build trade networks with their neighbours. Share the least offensive of their methods and try and get them to change their ways for practical reasons."

"What you're doing."

"Yes, that's… Why I'm doing it?"

She frowns. "Wait, are you a Tok'Ra?"

"No? Ah…" Huh. "I mean, I'm not a part of the organisation. It's not impossible that Queen Egeria was my mother, given that I took my first host at the direction of Ra's priests. I honestly don't know. Parent-child relationships aren't usually considered that important amongst the goa'uld. Given the.. number of children queens spawn, it wouldn't be practical. Anyway! Ah, the Against Ra are bad enough, but if your objectives are still the same… Well, Harlan might be able to build new versions of you if you die, but that's still four people against the galaxy. I think that we can achieve more by working together." I open my arms. "What can I do to convince you?"

"I would very much appreciate it-" Harlan jumps in, prompting the rest of us who'd sort of forgotten that he was there to jerk our heads towards him. "-if you could stop the storms. I would very much like to recover Wallace from outside. Particularly if he could be reactivated. Though that is unlikely."

O'Neil frowns. "Don't the storms cover the.. whole.. planet?"

I nod. "Pretty much. I don't think I'll-." Huh. "If you open a wormhole to Syrania and let me pick up some equipment, I can get that done in a few hours. If you just want me to clear the area around this facility, I can do that under my own power now."

Captain Carter shakes her head. "How?"

I smile. "I'm a god, remember? Just wave my hands."

O'Neil doesn't so much roll his eyes as roll his entire upper body. Teal'c remains impassive while Captain Carter sort of tenses her jaw and Daniel looks a little bewildered.

Harlan looks mildly impressed. "You're a god?"

O'Neil sighs. "He's not a god."

"But he said he was a god."

O'Neil give me a long-suffering glare as I stand up. "Who wants to come and see me use my divine magic on your storm clouds?"

Harlan smiles and nods. "Yes. That is what I said I wanted to do. So, me."

"Right then! Shall-?"

"Oh, and I've been told that I should ask, but, would you mind me making a robot duplicate of you?"

The other four watch for my response.

"I.. think that can wait until this facility is fully functional and you can give future androids the best possible bodies. How about that spaceship?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Mighty Morphin' Lantern Rangers

1st April 2013
09:17 GMT -5

Kaldur looks over the machinery which surrounds me, his eyes passing over the electronics with a cursory glance while lingering a little longer on the enchanted objects and arcane devices.

"Do you not think that this is a little extreme?"

"No."

"I understand that the visions you have had for the past two years are perhaps a little distracting, but you yourself have said that they have not harmed you in any way."

"One thing I learned from that mess with Krona. Parallel universes cause intersecting problems. I saw no sign that Ambush Bug was involved last year. None of the other versions of me I met at Vanishing Point admitted to experiencing anything like it. Which means that Ambush Bug might have done something to me that caused a lasting change to how I work. If so, that is a problem, because… Yes, a few visions one day a year isn't a problem, but if I don't-" Kaldur nods. "-know why it's happening, I don't know how to stop it if the visions start coming more often."

"And if this year none come?"

"Then… Great, it was probably something to do with Krona and I can stop worrying about it."

Kaldur smiles a smile which makes it clear to me that he's leaving me to my folly. "Then I will wish you the best of fortune."

"Thank you."

"Will you require someone to check in on you?"

"No, that's fine. People have been in close proximity to me both times this has happened-"

The world around me turns slightly, moments in time being interspersed with brief flickers of white like a projector reel.

"-and can you see that?"
//
Kaldur frowns at my alarm and
//
looks around. "I cannot see anything unusual."
//
He turns back to me. "Can you describe-?"
//
//
///////////////
The universe tilts and whirls and peels away and I'm sent flying and none of my time-wasting machines register anything unusual! There's a street, a road, American road signs, people running while a group of five brightly-costumed individuals fight a mob of grey humanoids and I'm flying or falling-.
/
Uhgh.

I land face-down on the asphalt-

"Oh dear. That wasn't supposed to happen."

-and push myself up, construct armour appearing around my body.

The alien looking at me in concern resembles some sort of uplifted chimpanzee. With… Wings and a monocle. His body... Looks like he's either been heavily bio-engineered or he's wearing organic armour, and he's looking at me like he thinks I'm about to explode.

The figure next to him is looking awkwardly at a large bottle in his right hand. His skin is blue, his head and most especially his jaw are far larger than the humanoid norms, while the rest of his body is squat and muscular. His clothing is… Weird. Baggy trousers with some sort of circular decoration, armoured helmet, boots, shoulder pads and breastplate. The teeth from his lower jaw protrude uselessly from his mouth in a way which puts me in mind of the designs I've seen of Japanese Oni masks.

"Ahhhh…" He tosses the bottle over his shoulder, and it smashes when it hits the ground. "Not my fault."

"Oh who else could it be? I gave you a simple task-."

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

They freeze, the shorter one looking directly at me for the first time.

"Oh… That's not good."

"Would one of you mind explaining what's happening?"

"Ah." The simian raises his right forefinger. "One question first."

"Okay?"

"Are you evil?"

"A.. completely honest answer to that question would be fairly complex. I have killed a lot of people-"

"Oh?"

"-and I don't feel any reluctance when my goal requires ruthless action-"

The monkey man nods. "Good, good."

"-but my goals are generally altruistic; I try to improve the lives of the people and.. society around me."

The blue-skinned one grimaces more, and the two of them look at each other.

"So really it depends on how you define evil."

They both return their attention to me.

"We…" The simian raises his right hand uncertainly. "Might… Need you to help us conquer the Earth."

"I'm.. going to need some evidence that you're some sort of godlike administrator before I even consider that. Do you have a… Curriculum V-?"

"Hey!"

The two of them take a nervous step back at the shout, and I turn to see that the brightly coloured fighters have defeated the grey humanoids. The fighters appear to have some sort of empathic shielding; I can see that they're alive and have emotions but that's about it. The figures on the floor… Either dead or they were never-. No, that one twitched. Some sort of automata? A robot or-.

They vanish, in… I think that was a teleportation effect.

"Uh-oh."

The five of them -yellow, pink, blue, red and black- form up on the red one and adopt… Silly pseudo-martial art poses like it's a photo shoot or something. Hm. They're clearly capable enough, and… They each have weapons and side arms they're not using.

Ring, identify.

Alert! Internet size vastly decreased since last scan. Identifying with paper archives. Targets are vigilante group 'Power Rangers'-

The… Fuck..?

-and are identified by colour.

"Two of Rita's goons and a new monster." The Red Ranger… Darn, I can't remember what his name was. He draws his sword, which is a sign for the others to draw their main weapons as well. "Let's stop their evil plan right now!"

"Right!" / "Right!" / "Right!" / "Right!"

The blue alien cringes further. "I'm outta here!"

His body shimmers and vanishes, and from the look of the other one he's not far-.

Something occurs to him.

"Go, my Orange… Warmaster! Destroy the Power Rangers!"

"Excuse me?"

He shimmers away as well as the five Rangers charge me.