"Yes," he told Cestan, his gaze still resting on the whip. "It's safe to say that we're interested."
Teyla had frequently heard her Atlantis colleagues refer to a man named Murphy. Experience had taught her that the law named for him was often valid. However, she preferred a different Earth maxim: if something appeared too good to be true, it often was.
For that reason, she remained more cautious about this new development than her teammates. Moreover, she found their reactions noteworthy. It had come as little surprise that Rodney had kept up a constant, one-sided conversation ever since taking his readings of the weapon. She had not, however, expected Ronon's rapt attention, and John… John's demeanor suggested a sense of hope, something she hadn't seen from him in quite some time.
"How readily available is this adarite?" asked Rodney, breaking out of his academic fugue at last. "We'd need a sizable amount just for study, to say nothing of actual development and fabrication of armament hardware."
"We'd be happy to work with you on a beneficial trade agreement," John told Cestan. "Either for services-like you said, we may be able to develop other applications for adarite-or for tools or raw materials. There are a number of ways we could help your people."
"Regrettably, our supply of adarite is quite limited. That is another subject we must discuss." The governor's grim expression lent weight to Teyla's concern. Nothing worth having was ever easily won. "The mines are located deep in the mountains. For generations, access has been controlled solely by the Nistra."
That name again-so intertwined with everything they'd learned about these people. "Would you tell us of the Nistra?" Teyla asked. "How have they become both a trading partner and an adversary?"
"A question that has been asked by all of us at one time or another," Cestan replied, his resignation evident. "We were one people, long ago. When the Ancestors departed to battle the Wraith elsewhere, they left many heirs among the populace. Some of these heirs had the ability to operate the devices that remained, and thus they held positions of importance. Those who were purely of this world began to believe that the heirs, both able and not, were favored over them. Only a few generations passed before the Wraith returned."
His sorrow appeared fresh, though his tale was born of events long past. "The culling that followed was as brutal as any described in our history. Our people tried to protect themselves by fleeing into the Hall of Tribute and other shelters. But many could not reach a place of safety in time, and the city was ravaged. Those who survived soon became bitterly divided. The able heirs were accused of protecting their brethren at the expense of the pure natives."
Recalling what Merise had said earlier-that someone with the gene could not be Nistra-Teyla said, "So the heirs of the Ancestors became the Falnori, and the others became the Nistra."
"Yes."
"Were the accusations true?" Ronon asked. "Was preference given to the heirs?"
Teyla tensed at the blunt query. Cestan's features tightened, but his response was measured. "Never. Not then, and not now."
"You're sure about that?" John pressed. "No offense, but all this started thousands of years ago."
"I will demonstrate. Kellec mentioned an Ancestor device you carry?" He lifted his hand in a wordless request.
John pulled out his life sign detector and gave it to the Falnori leader. The screen did not light. When Cestan passed it to Merise, however, it awakened.
"You rose to power without having the gene-the ability," Ronon said.
"We do not trouble ourselves with who was born to whom, nor does it matter to us who does and does not possess the ability. To borrow your phrase, it is `not the way we do things. "' Cestan was emphatic on that point. "By now, after generations of damage and disrepair, we have so little left of the Ancestors' work that the ability is all but meaningless. Yet the rift has been torn, and it cannot be mended."
"The Nistra settled new territory, near the mines?" John guessed.
"At first they claimed merely to desire their own land. Our forebears and theirs agreed to declare the Hall and the Stargate neutral territory, to be used for trade and remembrance. For centuries we lived apart and in peace. Because they were nearer the mines and our lands produced better crops, we offered them a portion of our harvest each year in exchange for a quantity of adarite. Beyond that our two peoples rarely met.
"As our population grew," Cestan continued, "more adarite was required. Just over one hundred years ago, the Nistra moved their villages closer to the mining territory in order to increase production, and they began to act as though the mines belonged solely to them. It was then that the trade agreement began to sour. At last the Nistra seized the mines and threatened any Falnori who dared approach."
Rodney frowned, his scanners forgotten for the moment. "And you're still giving them food every year?"
Spreading his hands wide, Cestan answered, "We have little choice. By honoring what remains of the agreement, we receive a small amount of adarite. Were we to break it, we would receive none. Adarite power is long-lived, but not limitless, and the release of that power quickly damages the other materials contained in the whips. They do not last long. Although we also need the ore for the few tools of the Ancestors we still possess, it is mostly needed for the whips, which provide our best defense against the Wraith… and others."
Teyla was under no illusions about the meaning of others' in this context. "Your warriors spoke of raids on the Hall," she prompted.
Cestan's mild frustration quickly transformed into fury. "An outrage that defies comparison," he spat, stalking across the field. "It has occurred only within the past few seasons, though it has been more frequent of late. The Nistra had always honored the Hall until now. Suddenly they have no respect for its meaning and come in groups to ransack it for trinkets. It has become so intolerable that, for the first time in generations, we have considered denying this harvest's trade. They have even attempted an incursion here in the city, but they seem much more interested in the Hall. As if we have nothing of value to them."
"And the no-weapons rule prevents you from placing guards," said John.
"As does the fact that it is not our land to guard. Instead we send daily patrols into the forest, like the one you encountered."
"Is it possible that only a small number of the Nistra are involved?" Teyla asked. "Have you not tried to discuss the matter with their leadership?"
"Overtures have been made and rejected. Confrontations end in violence and sometimes bloodshed. I fear all paths may end in full conflict."
The governor turned back toward his guests and laid out his entreaty. "We are building a stronger army, but proven warriors are few. You have the might of the Ancestors. If you could provide us the means to properly defend ourselves against the Nistra threat"-here his gaze swept over their P-90s-"we could spare some of the adarite from our meager stores for your use."
Now the terms had been made plain. The Falnori were less interested in any scientific advancement than in better weaponry to defeat their enemies. Is your goal any nobler than theirs? Teyla reminded herself.
Still, they couldn't simply hand over a cache of guns and explosives.
John cocked his head. "What did you have in mind?"
Satisfied that his visitors hadn't immediately refused his offer, Cestan explained, "Something that can reach further than our whips, and that does not depend on adarite. For this we would give an amount of ore proportional to the number of Falnori you are prepared to equip. In time, if fortune is kind, perhaps the adarite will be more available."