"Your thugs attacked an innocent man," growled Ronon. "What kind of justice is there in that?"
"Innocent?" Daus said lightly. "How can you hope to know that, Ronon Dex? How long were you in the man's company for? Have you known him all his life? Were you aware of his numerous transgressions against the nobility?" The Magnate shook his head. "I understand your indignation, but you must trust that my peace officers did what was right for the people."
Sheppard's hands were tightening into fists. "So, no trial, then? No due process or appeal, just step up and let a Wraith suck the life outta you? I guess it saves on building prisons, huh? Why lock up a man for ten years when you can just drain the time from him on the spot?" He resisted the urge to spit. "Bad enough you use those creatures on the battlefield, but on the streets of your own city? As a deterrent? Is life that cheap to you people?" John shot an acidic glare at Vekken, but the adjutant remained silent, content to hover like a shadow at the Magnate's side.
"Life is nothing if not lived in strength," retorted Muruw. "The Hounds remind us all that to survive we must be strong."
"What is it with this `only the strong survive' stuff you keep spouting?" John's mouth twisted in a humorless sneer. "You live a life of luxury up here but you talk like you're an inch away from death-and meanwhile, all the poor saps who really are living on the poverty line are barely holding on! Destitution and disease… I bet it's the same in every damn city on this planet!"
Daus smirked. "You are a conundrum, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard. You and your Atlanteans, you show courage, strength and martial prowess, and yet, you are so weak inside. You gnash and cry at the wounding of inferiors, you encourage vulnerability and you glory in your failings. You look like soldiers but you talk like commoners. I cannot even begin to understand the kind of society that breeds a man like you."
"Yeah, well, we're complicated that way."
"The bone-rot only strikes the infirm or the frail," noted the nobleman, "people whose contribution to our culture is negligible at best. They are not missed."
"Have you even tried to find a cure?" snapped Ronon.
"We have other, more important endeavors to occupy our scientists."
"You think you are better than us because you show cornpas- sion," broke in Muruw, making the last word a mocking insult. "But what has your empathy earned you? The Precursor City obliterated, your people scattered and so desperate for help that it takes a mere slip of a woman and her cadre to rescue you from the Wraith?"
Daus stepped closer to the colonel. "Our hearts are harder than yours, Atlantean, because Halcyon is cruel." He spread his hands. "You do not see it now, but in the time before my Dynast came to rule this world, the hardest winters and the worst famines in our recorded history swept the planet. Millions perished. Wars raged out of control. Life here was pitiless and brutal. Only though sacrifice, through determination and spirit, were my forefathers able to bring Halcyon under control and into this golden age. Our people are colored by that experience, Lieutenant Colonel. Perhaps if we had lived on a world no doubt as soft and pleasant as your distant Earth, then we too might share your flaws of character."
"Compassion isn't a flaw," Sheppard locked gazes with the Magnate, "cruelty is."
The other man ignored his interruption. "We are not afraid to take the hard road. We do not shy away from making choices that you might consider to be ruthless or callous. Until the last Wraith dies, we are at war!" Daus's voice became a snarl. "Like every living human in this galaxy, we are fighting for our lives each day. One moment of inattention, one instant of weakness and the Wraith will strike at us! Halcyon must be ever strong, always ready!"
Ronon snorted. "And what happens along the way? You give up what it is to be a human being? You become killers and predators, you become like them?"
Daus turned and walked away, refilling his pipe. His moment of ire faded, his calm and condescending demeanor returning. "It has come to me now," he said, "I think I see the root of your problem, Lieutenant Colonel. You Atlanteans, you are naive. Oh, yes, you fight hard when your backs are to the wall, and in those moments perhaps you touch the iron will that hides deep inside you… But I warrant there is a part of you that hopes one day to end the war without bloodshed, yes? Peace. You want peace."
"Every soldier wants peace," said Sheppard, "it's why we fight."
"Perhaps. But we have been fighting the Wraith for centuries, and we know them better than you ever could. And one day-perhaps within your lifetime, I truly hope-one day you will understand that to defeat them you will have to take the hard road." He gave the colonel a level, flinty stare. "You hate the Wraith as much as I do, I see it in your eyes… But how far are you willing to go to vanquish them?"
Sheppard found his throat turning dry. "Not as far as you," he managed, after a moment.
Daus smiled and lit the pipe, the flare of the match giving his face a brief demonic cast in the twilight. "Mark those words well, my friend, because you will remember them. On the day the Wraith swarm across your Earth, you will remember them, and you will know that I am right." The Magnate turned, dismissing them, and walked away into the darkness with Muruw.
When the other men were out of earshot, Vekken spoke for the first time since they had arrived in the garden. "Ah, Sheppard, you would be wise not to test the Magnate's munificence any further. Muruw counseled him to have you put to the Hounds for daring to leave the palace environs. His Highness may not be so quick to disagree the next time you try him."
"I'll take that under advisement." The colonel frowned. "It's been a big day. I think we've had enough excitement for now." Sheppard and Ronon began to walk off in the direction of the guest quarters.
"I've doubled the guard," Vekken called after them. "Do not attempt any unescorted sojourns again. I have left orders to have any man who allows you to escape to be executed."
Sheppard froze and threw Vekken a hard glare. "You wouldn't do that."
"I would," said the adjutant. "Cruelty has its uses, Sheppard, and right now I am using it on you."
John turned on his heel and walked away.
Ronon gave Sheppard a sideways look. He hadn't often seen the man angry, but he was seeing it now, the cold fury burning in the colonel's eyes and the set of his jaw. "Where do we go from here?" he asked, watching Sheppard's expression.
"If I had to call it, I'd scrub this whole mess right now, Zero Point Module or no Zero Point Module. Everything's a game to these people, us included, and I'm getting pretty damn sick of it."
Dex's head bobbed in agreement. "You'll get no argument from me."
Sheppard blew out a breath. "But McKay's champing at the bit to take a peek inside that dolmen, and if there is a ZPM…"
"…It might serve them right if we just helped ourselves to it." Ronon finished.
"The thought had crossed my mind." Sheppard hesitated. "But I'm not going to shut this down without talking to Weir first. Like it or not, this is still technically a diplomatic mission, and she gets the last word on those."
The two men walked in silence for a few moments before Dex spoke again. "Sheppard. I hate to give him any credit, but Daus was right about something. One day we might have to go places we don't want to… to beat the Wraith."
John didn't look at him. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. But not before."
Chapter Six
The open wormhole lit the Gate Room with soft, silvery light.
"I'm receiving Colonel Sheppard's IDC," said the technician.
Dr. Weir patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Keith. Go ahead and lower the force field. Have the guards stand down."