The delegations stopped a few yards apart and regarded each other without speaking. Elizabeth took that as her cue. "Gentlemen, thank you for agreeing to these discussions," she greeted. "My name is Doctor Elizabeth Weir. My team and I are visitors to your world, and we have not come to tell you how to lead your people. Rather, it's my hope that by acting as a third party mediator, with no alliance to either side, I can help you to reach an arrangement that will be equitable to all and promote understanding between your two societies."
Neither side made any overt response to the introduction. Undaunted, she continued, "Shall we move to the Hall of Tribute so we may begin?"
Stepping forward, two of Cestan's guards detached their whips from their belts and handed the coils of ore and leather to their comrades. Apparently both sides planned to leave personnel at the gate, because two of Galven's guards did likewise. Trust, obviously, was in short supply here. Ronon, who had shocked no one on his team by choosing to stay outside with the Marines, took custody of his teammates' relinquished P-90s.
"Give a yell if anyone approaches the perimeter," John instructed, tapping the radio affixed to his vest. "From any direction. And keep an eye on your new pals."
"Will do," said Ronon.
The motley crew started toward the damaged outer building. Cestan and Galven both kept their gazes focused directly ahead, neither acknowledging the other during the walk. John, Lorne, and Teyla stayed between the two parties, maintaining a subtle separation, just in case. Elizabeth could see Rodney practically humming with anticipation beside her. He had brought two of the city's power specialists along to dig into whatever technological treasures lay within the Ancient facility, and he obviously didn't care to waste any more time.
The interior of the structure was every bit as demolished as its exterior suggested. Flashlight in hand, Lorne helped Elizabeth climb over a splintered table as they followed the Nistra guards into a back corner. Behind a fallen section of roof lay two doors. The guards approached the second door and manipulated its handle this way and that. Eventually the door opened to reveal a nondescript stairwell.
When he caught sight of it, Rodney's cheer dimmed, and he grumbled a complaint about information that would have been helpful earlier.
The stairs led them down about two stories, depositing them in a room that caught Elizabeth off-guard. No evidence of any attack was visible here. At one end of the expansive room sat a V-shaped table and easily enough chairs for the proceedings. The rest of the space was lined with Ancient equipment, leading to a hallway at the far end that must have continued into the rest of the facility. All of it was clean, orderly-and lit.
Her surprise must have shown, because Cestan spoke for the first time. "Our scholars are permitted to study and reflect here. A group visited earlier and prepared the Hall for our use."
Already bouncing from console to console, trying to determine the optimal starting point, Rodney managed to quash his curiosity long enough to ask, "May I infer that we're free to look around?"
The governor cast a pointed gaze at Galven, as if challenging him to disagree.
"I have no objection to the furtherance of knowledge," the minister replied calmly.
"Excellent. Good luck with the treaty and all that. We'll check in." Rodney made an impatient come-here gesture at John, who fixed him with a withering look before crossing the room to join him.
"Not the warrior," Galven said sharply.
John paused in mid-stride. "I'm sorry?"
The Nistra leader studied him with a glacial expression. "You are a warrior, not a scholar. As such you are not granted access to the works of the Ancestors. You will remain here."
A humorless chuckle came from Cestan. "Do you make this claim honestly? After your raiders have stolen so much from within these walls?"
"My people have done nothing of the sort," Galven snarled. "Does your hypocrisy know no limits?"
"Gentlemen, please." Elizabeth could feel the tension building, and they hadn't even begun negotiations yet. "For the moment, let's concentrate on the issue at hand."
"Which is absurd," Rodney declared, making little effort to defuse the situation. "Colonel Sheppard's not a-well, he is, but isn't that oversimplifying things? I mean, in his defense, he can calculate pi to twenty significant figures before you can say-"
"I watched you relinquish your weapon earlier," Galven said to John, who still stood uncertainly in the center of the room.
Rodney frowned. "Of course you did. You saw me do the same thing. I'm certainly not a warrior."
"No, you are not." Galven kept his eyes on John as he answered. "But a weapon does not make a warrior."
A message of some sort seemed to pass between the older minister and the younger colonel, making Elizabeth wonder if Galven had once been a warrior himself.
After a moment, John dropped his gaze and turned back to Rodney with a half-shrug of acceptance. "He's right about me. Kinda tough to deny it."
"And that would be one of the reasons why I'd rather have you with us," Rodney persisted, his voice almost too low to be heard. "Can't we work something out?"
In truth, Elizabeth wasn't wild about the idea of letting anyone wander off unescorted, either. She deferred to her military advisor, however, and said nothing.
John shook his head. "We can't afford to jeopardize this. And these guys have been poking around in here for thousands of years. You'll live. Go find cool stuff."
With a huff of irritation, Rodney acquiesced. "Like I said, we'll check in." The trio of scientists headed for the corridor.
Taking the initiative, Elizabeth walked over to stand at the head of the table. "Governor, Minister, if you please."
The leaders moved to opposite sides of the table without argument, the other representatives of the three groups filling in around them. There was a refreshing lack of formal ceremony. Elizabeth wasn't naive enough to believe that the full proceedings would be nearly as civil and sensible.
"I'd like to begin by hearing the terms of the current agreement from each of you, in order to ensure that there is no ambiguity or misinterpretation," she announced. "And I'll have to ask, out of respect for all involved, that each side be allowed to present a complete statement without interruption. There are no time limits here; no one will be denied an opportunity to be heard on any topic." She folded her hands atop the table. "Minister Galven, since some of my people have spoken previously to Governor Cestan, I suggest that you speak first."
"Very well." Galven's close-cropped hair was snow white, but his piercing blue eyes gave the impression of someone much younger. "The accord has changed many times. The most recent version was struck seven generations ago. It calls for a trade meeting each year, after the harvest, held outside this Hall. The Nistra contribute one carriage of ore for every three carriages of grain and fruit provided by the Falnori."
Elizabeth turned to Cestan. "Do you dispute that explanation?"
"I do not," the governor acknowledged. "However, it is incomplete. The total amount of goods to be exchanged is determined at a conference held three days before the trade. Each year for the past ten, the Nistra have offered smaller and smaller amounts of adarite. It has gotten to the point where we must ration our use of lamps."
"Enduring the darkness is less difficult than starving." Galven's tone was laden with scorn. "My people would gladly offer more adarite if we could. But many are in poor health and unable to work in the mines as well as before. Even so, we honor the accord to the best of our ability-something the Falnori apparently no longer feel honor-bound to do."