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"Because I once oversaw an Air Force installation, and civilians aren't exempt from taking that training." She zipped up her jacket. "Try to keep the archeology team from executing a hostile takeover of Rodney's unidentified Ancient gadget locker while I'm gone, would you please?"

"Never happen. They're too afraid he'll booby-trap something vital in their quarters." A hint of a smile finally reached his eyes, forced though it might have been. "Be safe," he said, echoing the request Elizabeth so often made when their positions were reversed.

"Will do. We'll check in as scheduled."

She headed for the stairway, Carson following. No sooner had their boots hit the gate-room floor than Major Lorne fell into step beside her. "Dial it up!" he called to the control room.

After the event horizon materialized, she cast a glance up at John, standing at the railing. She raised one hand in a tentative wave and turned to step through the gate, wondering if, when she saw her teams off from that post, she looked quite as alone as he did now.

The Marines secured the whole of the gate area as soon as they emerged from the wormhole. Leaving nothing to chance, Lieutenant Cadman began to sweep the perimeter with a scanner appropriated from Rodney. If one alternate entrance to the Ancient facility existed, the possibility of two alternate entrances was very real.

Elizabeth noted a shift in the general atmosphere as she approached the Hall. For their first meeting, Governor Cestan and Minister Galven had brought four guardassistants apiece. Today each man had eight. Hardly a promising start. The wind was stronger today than it had been before, and the calculating stares being traded across the open expanse brought to mind images of a gunslinger duel at dawn.

"Minister, Governor," she greeted them formally. "I'm pleased to see that both of you deemed our discussion to be worth continuing."

"I am here over the objections of my advisors," Cestan informed her. "The most recent incident has convinced many among my people that the Nistra are uninterested in securing a meaningful accord."

"I am here as well, Governor," Galven pointed out archly. "Our commitment to peace is not for your people to judge. And, might I add, it has been only shaken by these reprehensible raids and by the insistence of the Falnori on using this latest one as an excuse to vilify us."

Before the same tired accusations could be dragged out again, Elizabeth broke in. "It's commendable that both sides are present, and the issue of the raids will certainly be part of our discussion. First, though, I would like you to hear from my chief of medicine on a topic that concerns all of us."

The unexpected request seemed to jar both men out of their indignation, at least temporarily. She considered it a moral victory when the group entered the Hall with no further comment, and she tried not to dwell on the fact that a full four guards from each faction remained outside to stand watch this time. Lorne spoke quietly into his radio, alerting his Marines to keep an eye on the augmented security detail.

Once the delegations had taken their seats around the table, Elizabeth wasted no time. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Dr. Carson Beckett. He's highly experienced in the field of medical research, and he's discovered a characteristic of adarite that may affect our negotiations."

Though his discomfort would be apparent to anyone who knew him well, Carson spoke with calm patience. "I've studied the sample we were given and found that the energetic properties of the ore damage the mind. Difficulty with short-term memory is the first symptom, as evidenced by some of our people after only a brief exposure. I believe the long-range impact to be quite serious." He faced Galven. "Minister, you told Dr. Weir that many Nistra suffer from poor health. Are your miners commonly among those afflicted?"

Gray brows knitted as the older man considered the question. "It is possible," he allowed. "But they ail because they are hungry, not because they are forgetful."

"I'm afraid it may be a bit more complicated than that, sir," said Carson, his bedside manner on display. "Memory is only the most significant area of influence we've identified; our people also have reported headaches and difficulty thinking clearly. A memory deficit could potentially cause a kind of ripple effect, impacting higher-level function in addition to simple tasks, like eating or washing, that could lead to health concerns."

"If this were so, we would have realized it." The Nistra leader was understandably skeptical. "We have been mining the adarite for generations."

"The damage may be partial or limited, and it's likely your people have unconsciously adapted their behavior to compensate over the years. They may also have become inured to the discomfort our people felt upon first exposure. The current generations of your people have spent almost all their lives in the mining territory or near adarite in some manner-they don't know what it would feel like to be free of the effects. You had no way of making the connection. We have sophisticated equipment which diagnoses such hazards." Carson withdrew a printout from his pocket and unfolded it. "These two images represent the brains of two of my people. One was exposed to adarite, while the other was not. Can you see the difference?"

Both leaders examined the picture, looking unconvinced. Elizabeth couldn't fault them for their resistance to the concept. They had no frame of reference for the data they were seeing and had only the word of some offworlders to demonstrate the danger.

"The Falnori have not been so afflicted." Cestan put the printout aside. "We are in need, but we have health. You believe that to be a consequence of not working in the mines?"

"Not entirely. There's an additional wrinkle."

The doctor paused for a moment before Elizabeth interceded. They'd given enough variations of this speech in the past that she barely had to think about how to tailor it for her current audience. "Governor, the Falnori are descended from the offspring of the Ancients. As such, many of them possess an ability, as you call it, to use Ancient tools. That hereditary ability is marked by a physical trait we call a gene."

"This gene also appears to make the brain resistant to the effects of adarite," Carson continued. "I'd wager that all your warriors are gene carriers, just due to natural selection. Because of the cognitive effects, those without the gene would never become proficient with an adarite whip."

The governor's heightened interest came as little surprise. "Should your theory be correct," he said thoughtfully, lacing his fingers together on the table, "it would imply that the Falnori are better suited to handle adarite than the Nistra."

Galven didn't bother to hide his disdain. "A fortunate possibility indeed for the Falnori."

"Gentlemen, I see solutions here." Elizabeth could see apprehension stiffening the minister's spine and worried that her proposal would do nothing to lessen it. "A job swap of some type may be feasible. If Falnori gene carriers took over the mining duties, we could improve the overall health of the Nistra dramatically-"

"And now the true goal is brought to light." Galven's eyes glittered. "You mean to steal our livelihood by whatever means necessary," he accused Cestan. "The raids were not sufficient, so now you conspire with these offworlders to manufacture a reason to take the mines from us.

"Now wait just a minute," Carson objected. "The damage caused by adarite exposure is very real. I could demonstrate it for you if I wanted to risk the neurological fitness of everyone present. Since I'm not willing to do that, I'd ask that you let me examine some of your miners to provide evidence."

"I should trust you?"

"Yes, you should." Elizabeth leaned forward. "What would we have to gain from feeding you a lie? Even if the adarite was harmless and my people could use it, we have no reason to favor trade with the Falnori over trade with the Nistra."

"The absence of an obvious reason does not mean there is no possible reason," remarked Galven, sitting back in his chair with an air of tranquility that was plainly false.