SGA fic: Gaijin pt 3/40
Dec. 9th, 2008 06:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sam_gamgeeGaijin, Part 3/40
The complete header can be found in part 1.
Previous parts can be found here.
Rodney woke up with a groan. This was an all too familiar feeling. Soft voices nearby hushed each other. Rodney slowly sat up with the aid of some gentle hands. He dry-scrubbed his face and sighed before opening his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked no one in particular while making a pointer finger go around in a lazy circle.
“You passed out,” Jillian said. “My father says he has seen this happen before, so we fed you some sweets and you came around.” She showed him the candies and he gingerly sniffed one before taking a tentative bite. It was extremely sweet and dissolved quickly on his tongue.
Rodney nodded his approval as he looked at Kirby. “Good thinking,” he said, eating the rest of the piece. “Now, I need a sandwich.” He mimed eating something. Kirby nodded and handed him a plate with some fresh meat, fruit, and bread. Rodney ate quickly with Kirby watching him like a hawk. When he was done, Jillian took the plate from him and Rodney said, “Okay, I think I’m good here, please go about your business.” He pretended to push the intrigued crowd away. Jillian helped him up and, when Kirby seemed satisfied that Rodney wasn’t going to fall over any minute, took him into their quarters.
“I need to shave tomorrow,” Rodney said, imitating shaving his beard.
“Yes, after you get some sleep,” Jillian replied with a nod.
Laying down in his bed, Rodney asked, “Do a lot of people come through the ‘Gate?” Rodney moved a finger back and forth between them before spreading his arms wide, then made a circle for the Ring, a few hand walking steps and pointed to the floor.
Jillian shook her head and placed her hands about a hand span apart, which Rodney took to mean a small amount. She then put a finger to her lips before placing her hand over his eyes. Rodney didn’t need to do any translating to know she was telling him to be quiet and go to sleep. He sighed as he turned on his side facing the room and pulled up his blanket. Jillian dimmed the nearby light and went back out into the commons. Rodney tried to stay awake so he could start planning a way home but was soon asleep.
It took Rodney about a week to figure out that the sandstorm was on a regular 72 hours on, three hours off, cycle, the first day of his captivity notwithstanding (he still had to figure out where that anomaly came from). And from there, it didn’t take long for Rodney to figure out that there was probably no way in hell that Sheppard or Elizabeth or anyone else on Atlantis would be able to figure out how to get to him; or, at least not in the time he knew Elizabeth would give them to look for him.
During the course of figuring out the sandstorm’s schedule, Rodney also mapped out the common areas of the complex – which was much larger than he expected – to have an idea of how things were laid out. He even calculated possible weak spots and ways of escape – which, once he realized he was doing it, made him think of John and Ronon and he felt a tinge of sadness. Not that he’d survive long out in the desert, but he knew it was better to be aware of these things.
He found that the complex also had rooms for preparing either yarn or thread, Rodney wasn’t quite sure which and weaving the thread into cloth, as well as a section of the caves beyond the pools that were used to make glass. It hit him as he left one of the weaving rooms that he knew where the raw supply was coming from – the cocoons on the walls of the cave must be some sort of silkworm.
Rodney was surprised that they let him have free rein to wander around during the day. True, it wasn’t exactly as if he could go anywhere else and they spoke a different language, but he was still a foreigner and hadn’t done anything to show them they could trust him. And that train of thought reminded him of Teyla and her reminders when they went off-world.
The people Rodney came in contact with were generally nice and displayed a lot of the same physical traits that the people in his area did – predominantly red hair and thin as a rail. And he felt that they were actually too nice. They always smiled when they saw him, and a few would even wave. Some tried to talk to him, but Rodney had to sheepishly shrug and tell them he didn’t know what they were saying – then they would just shrug and shoo him off with a smile. But no one looked at him distrustfully or with any sort of malice – only a warmth he wasn’t used to and a muted curiosity, as if they would find out whatever they wanted to know about him in due time. And the kids seemed to be especially curious of him and would continually come over to him and ask him questions, even though he had no clue what they were saying. He hoped the relief he felt when the parents called the kids back didn’t show too evidently on his face.
Since he lived so close to the entrance of the caves, Rodney saw that after the next break in the sandstorm, a little over eight hours later, new people appeared in the entry of the tent. Kirby would meet them, and then direct them to where they needed to go before returning to his work. Rodney asked Jillian about them and she told him they were traders from other planets, come to do business.
After thinking things through after the second sandstorm had finished and the ambassadors had arrived, Rodney decided to hitch a ride with them when he left. He knew it would be easy enough to turn around once he got to another planet and go back to Atlantis from there – provided the people he went with didn’t care, or he was able to avoid detection, which was highly unlikely.
A few hours before the next break in the sandstorm was due, Rodney was waiting by the door to the tunnel, clothed in his BDUs with his gear ready to go. He greeted the leaving party with a slight bow, opened the door for them and shut the door behind himself before following behind them. The men looked at him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing as they started walking. The three men paid little attention him as they walked, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Rodney, for once, had no problems with not being included in the conversation. He simply needed a way off this damn rock so he could get home. As he walked, Rodney began going through different scenarios he could use to get through the ‘Gate, from jumping through at the last moment to just walking through along with the rest of the group, weighing the odds of each.
He was still weighing his options, including ones that involved taking hostages, and wondering if he could pull those off, when they stopped to eat. One of the men raised an eyebrow at him while they pulled out food, but Rodney smirked a little as he pulled out the food he had stored away in his pack – which had been surprisingly easy to get a hold of. They were finishing up the meal when Kelly and Jillian showed up, both looking a little winded. Jillian looked furious while Kelly’s understanding look was mixed with an expression that Rodney could only translate as, ‘You’re totally in trouble’.
Rodney watched as there was a flurry of exchanged words between the two groups. While the tone on both sides was urgent, it didn’t sound angry. Then Jillian grabbed Rodney’s hand and hauled him up and started stalking back the way they had come down the corridor, at one point pushing him forward to walk in front of her, with Kelly bringing up the rear. When they got back to the tent, Jillian marched Rodney into their quarters and pushed him down on his bed with a glare and stormed out.
Rodney stayed put, not sure what kind of trouble he was in. A few minutes later, a girl came in with some food and water for him, but other than that, Rodney saw no one before falling into an exhausted sleep not long after he finished eating. The next morning, the incident seemed to have been forgotten by Jillian, which both puzzled and relieved Rodney.
Realizing that now any chance he had of leaving had been effectively quashed, Rodney sulked. He missed Atlantis more than he thought possible – even more than when he’d been stuck at Area 51 after the Asurans had forced them out of Atlantis. There was a possibility of going home, which was how he thought of Atlantis, and no way of acting on it. There wasn’t even a way of sending them a note saying, ‘I’m all right. They’re holding me hostage, but I’m working out an escape plan. Keep the lights on.’
Jillian and Kirby tried to engage him in talking, but to no avail. Kelly stopped by a few times over the next couple of days to see him and once tried to teach him a game, but Rodney wasn’t interested. He even started eating less – partly because he honestly wasn’t hungry, which he knew was an oddity for him, and partly because he was considering seeing how far he could go before they’d be willing to negotiate his going home in order to end his hunger strike.
A week into his sulk, Rodney wandered down into the caves to get away from everyone and their concerned glances. It seemed like Kirby and Jillian were telling everyone what was going on and, while he would have loved the attention if he was home, among strangers Rodney just didn’t want to deal with their concern when he was feeling so depressed. He began pacing in front of the pools, the sound of the water soothing him and helping to anchor him.
“Look,” he said to thin air as he continued pacing, “I know you’re not real, and even if you were, why you would come – or would that be come back? – with us to the Pegasus Galaxy. But if you are real and you are here, could you *please* do something about getting me back to Atlantis? We both know that I don’t deserve to be stuck here and that Atlantis needs me much more than these people do. And I highly doubt this is some sort of practical joke on your part. So, what kind of deal can we make, hmm? Because, did I mention the spectacular unfairness of this whole situation I’m in?”
A scuffing noise behind him had Rodney whirling around to find Kelly on the path leading down into the chamber. Kelly had an amused look on his face as he looked around the otherwise empty room.
Rodney gave him a withering look as he said, “Can’t a man do *anything* in private in this place? Seriously, I give up.” He threw his hands up in the air in disgust. “I can’t even properly cuss out God without someone butting in.” Holding his hands out to his sides with the palms up, he asked, “What do you want?”
Kelly simply cocked an eyebrow as he entered the rest of the way into the cavern and Rodney could have sworn the look was exactly the same as John’s ‘Are you done yet?’ expression.
“I think I’m done,” he said, walking over to Kelly. “It’s not like I’m going to get an answer anyway.” They returned to the camp in comfortable silence, but Rodney wasn’t so sure the prematurely-ended rant had really done anything to ease his dissatisfaction at being stuck there.
Entering the tent, Kelly held up the pouch containing the dice game he’d been trying to teach Rodney. “Sure,” Rodney replied with a noncommittal shrug and a quick nod. “Let’s play. It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere anytime soon and I have nothing better to do.”
As Kelly set it up, Rodney heard Jillian talking with – or, more accurately, at – a small relative of hers. Rodney was pretty sure the toddler was a cousin, but he wasn’t completely sure. She was repeating the same thing over and over again and, after a while, Rodney began to assume she was asking him to name something and telling him what it is, since she had been doing the same thing the day before. Looking up from the dice, he saw that it was the spoon she had been using for the exercise the day before and muttered under his breath, “It’s a spoon,” using the Lapran word for it, “it’s not that big of a deal.”
Kelly looked up at him with a confused look on his face. “What did you just say?” he asked.
“What?” Rodney asked, turning his attention to Kelly.
“You said ‘spoon’ – in my language.”
“You know I can’t understand you,” Rodney said tersely as Kelly called Jillian over. She came with the spoon and child and sat down next to Rodney and Kelly, a confused look on her face.
Taking the spoon from her and holding it up, Kelly asked Rodney the same question Jillian had been asking the little boy, “What is this?”
Sensing what Kelly was up to, Rodney sullen replied, “A spoon.”
Both Kelly and Jillian grinned and Kelly tapped Rodney on the nose with the convex side of the spoon before handing it back to Jillian as he said to her, “See, I told you he said it.”
Gesturing to the three of them and pointing at the spoon, Rodney said, “So this was all about me?” as he pointed to himself.
Jillian shook her head ‘no’ as she pointed to the little boy seated in her lap and, with a frustrated sigh, said, “I’m trying to teach my cousin to talk and he’s being rather stubborn – just like everyone else in his family.”
Rodney stared at her and the child, who was grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing, for a minute before realizing that it really didn’t have anything to do with him. “Oh,” he said, not sure how to pull his foot from his mouth.
“Do you want to learn?” Kelly asked, pointing at Rodney and then at the spoon.
“I don’t understand,” Rodney replied.
Kelly sighed, took the spoon from Jillian and held it up.
“Spoon,” Rodney replied instinctively. When Kelly held up one of the dice, he shrugged helplessly and said, “I don’t know.”
“Die,” Kelly said.
“Die,” Rodney repeated and Kelly and Jillian smiled. Kelly smiled and pointed at Rodney, then held up two fingers and touched a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I guess I do know two words now. Like *that’s* really useful.”
Jillian rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll start teaching him tomorrow, Kelly.” Looking at Rodney, she gestured between the two of them, then made a gesture for one sleep, and then moved her hands back and forth between the two of them as if they were talking. Rodney nodded. “If you tried to do it, he wouldn’t be able to string two words together.”
Kelly made a face at Rodney and her, and the kid, who had moved off of Jillian’s lap and was now playing with the forgotten dice, laughed. “We better get to bed,” he said, standing.
Rodney and Jillian also stood, Jillian sighing as she gathered up the little boy who was shaking his head and digging his heels into the floor when Jillian tried to move him. She swung him up into her arms and headed out, followed by Kelly, who gave Rodney a small bow – which Rodney returned before quickly changing into his pajamas before Kirby or Jillian had a chance to come in. He rinsed his mouth out with their home-made mouthwash and spit it out in the chamber pot before climbing into bed. Kirby came in as Rodney finished getting settled and gave him a big smile before getting ready for bed himself.
The next morning started a pattern that began to mold Rodney’s new life. In the morning, over breakfast and for a little while afterwards, he’d work with Jillian on learning their language. Then, while she was at work – which, from what Rodney could gather, was in the glass department where she made cups and bowls, Rodney was free to do as he pleased. This meant that he didn’t do much, since he had no idea what he was allowed to do, what sort of work his capabilities would best suit him to on such a low-technology planet, or how he could ask, with his limited linguistic knowledge. He usually ended up wandering around the complex or down into the caves, the days blurring into each other easily.
He did try staying put one day outside their quarters, but the only thing to do there was watch Kirby treat people and Rodney considered Kirby’s practice to be much more voodoo-related than even Carson’s, so he paid it little mind. However, he did listen in a little bit, trying to practice the language. The steadily increasing pool of random words he could understand was heartening, but in some cases utterly ineffectual when it came to expressing ideas or abstractions – which frustrated him to no end.
Kirby did seem to like him and not mind that he was taking up some of their limited space. Rodney even got the impression that Kirby might have even been a little amused with him. He would even try to engage Rodney in conversation whenever he got the chance, much to Rodney’s frustration. And Rodney was finding that he liked Kirby, even if he didn’t understand ninety-five percent of the things Kirby told him. His imposing stature kind of scared Rodney – much like Ronon’s had when he had first come to Atlantis.
When Jillian came home, she would work some more on the language with Rodney, but more for review than to learn anything new, while she made dinner and Kirby made ‘house calls’. After dinner, Kelly would usually come over and play a game of dice to try to get Rodney to use as much of his vocabulary as he could.
One night, Rodney started, “I… um… I need…” He made a small gesture of holding something in his hand and pulling it towards himself as he searched his brain for the words. “I… no….” He grimaced as he kept coming up blank. Trying a different tactic, he said, “Jillian – glass. You –” Rodney waved a hand at Kelly, who was waiting patiently for him to finish, “yaks. Kirby –,” Rodney made a sick face. “Me –,” he shrugged his shoulders hopelessly.
Kelly thought about it for a minute and then smiled. “You *need*,” he repeated Rodney’s motion of cupping something and pulling it towards himself, “to just ask,” he gestured between the two of them, “anyone,” he made an all-encompassing gesture, “and they’d be happy to have you help.” He made a two-handed gesture like he was handing something over.
Rodney considered both Kelly’s gestures and the little he understood of what Kelly had said, then nodded before taking his turn.
The next morning, Rodney felt a certain optimism he hadn’t felt since coming to this planet as he exited the quarters he was sharing with Kirby and Jillian after his morning lesson. He resolutely went over to Jean, who seemed to be the “den mother” of their little cluster of rooms; she was an older woman who, as far as Rodney could tell, had no husband or children, young ones at any rate, and she tended to cook a midday meal for everyone who lived in their cluster (Rodney had noticed that people tended to go home for lunch instead of taking it with them to their worksite). She also did small odd jobs for those in her “care”, such as mending clothing, lending an ear to talk to if Kirby was busy, and watching and teaching the younger children while their parents worked.
She looked up at him curiously as she straightened up from helping one little girl with a stitching project. “Yes, Rodney? What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I want… um… I want to help you,” he said, nervously.
She smiled and nodded. “I’d greatly appreciate it.” She went over to the fire and picked up a pail. Handing it to him, she said, “I need more yak chips for the fire,” and pointed to the fire.
Rodney sighed as he headed down to the corral to get the requested item. It would figure that his first job would be retrieving dung. He had come to the conclusion pretty quickly that the stuff had to be treated with something that reduced the smoke and odor and made it last for a fairly long time.
Sighing again, he set the pail up on the railing and called, “Kelly!”
Kelly came over and grinned when he saw the pail. “I see you found someone to help,” he said, taking the pail. “How much?” and placed a finger at various points on the pail.
Rodney shrugged. “Jean wanted...” he thought for a minute, “it.”
Kelly nodded and took it over to one of the large bins they used to hold the unpleasant stuff and filled the pail halfway. Bringing the pail back and handing it over with a smile, Kelly said, “Have a good time.”
Rodney rolled his eyes as he took the pail and left with a sarcastic wave.
Jean smiled at him as Rodney put the pail back, but she didn’t interrupt the story she was telling to the group of enrapt kids. Rodney sat at the back of the group and, while he could only understand tiny pieces, he couldn’t help but smile at how engrossed the kids were. By the way they reacted to the story, he could see it was one that they knew but still loved every time they heard it. When she finished telling the story, Jean asked a question and hands shot up in the air. Rodney chuckled – some things apparently never changed, regardless of the time or galaxy.
When the kids were given a short break, Rodney made to stand, but Jean waved him back down. She brought over a large pot with water and a basket of dried vegetables. She pulled a knife out of her apron and picked up one of the vegetables into the pot before handing the knife to Rodney with an expectant look on her face. Rodney nodded and sighed – kitchen duty. He began cutting up the vegetables as she had and adding them to the pot.
Stirring the beginnings of the soup when he had finished, Jean said made a face, “Not bad for a first time,” and handed over some yak jerky for him to tear up and add in as well, along with some spice pouches.
Rodney carefully tore up the meat and added it in, mixing it in with the vegetables. Then he carefully sniffed the pouches and added a tiny bit of a potent-smelling spice and a generous pinch of a sweeter-smelling one. He mixed it together thoroughly before taking it over to the fire and hanging it on the hook over top of it.
Jean looked at him questioningly as she took the pouches from him and leaned in to taste it. She grimaced and said sternly, “You used too much,” and held up the pouch of the sweet spice, “not so much next time.” She took another spoonful and held it out for Rodney to taste. He did so and grimace as well at the sweetness. “ I think I can salvage it,” as she added some more of the more potent spice and mixing it in. Tasting it again, she shrugged. “It’ll have to do.” She handed him another spoonful and Rodney could taste the difference – the sweetness had gone down a notch or two and he could taste a spicy undercurrent – kind of like curry powder.
Rodney, not completely sure what she had said, looked contrite and said, “I’m sorry.”
“We will have to be more careful next time,” she said, waving him to sit down next to her. “You may be a man, but in our ways you are very much a child and will need to be taught as such.”
Rodney wasn’t sure how to respond to that and said, “I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” she replied with a smile. “And one day you will look back on this and see how far you’ve come.”
The kids came back and Jean began teaching them again – this time in some sort of recitation exercise as Rodney watched the soup and stirred it occasionally. When they were done, Jean said something to them and they all looked at Rodney with a mix of surprise and glee and Rodney was scared of what she had told them. They disappeared into their homes as some of the adults began drifting back from work and Rodney realized it was lunch time.
Everyone collected their lunch utensils and lined up to get the soup. Jean made Rodney dish it out as she passed out small hunks of bread that had mysteriously appeared. He suspected that the duty was a mix of letting him continue to help and so that the others could see that he had made the soup. Once everyone had received their share, including Jean, Rodney retrieved his own things and served himself lunch, moving to eat by himself and watch everyone else eat and socialize.
“Not bad,” Kirby said, sitting down next to him with a smile, and pointing at the soup with his spoon.
“Yeah, well, let’s make sure it doesn’t kill anyone first,” Rodney commented as he ate another spoonful, thankful that the soup hadn’t turned out too horribly once it had been allowed to cook for a while.
“If you decide this isn’t what you want, you could help me,” Kirby commented.
“I don’t think so,” Rodney replied. “I don’t have the... the....” He tapped his forehead and Kirby nodded in understanding. “Besides,” he muttered under his breath, “I don’t want to have to deal with Carson’s taunting after all the voodoo comments I’ve made about *his* medicinal practices.”
After lunch, Rodney helped Jean clean up and even carted things down to the pools to wash everything out. He learned, haltingly, that the classes were only held in the mornings, so he sat back down to help her prepare things for her dinner and the next day’s lunch. He prepared the vegetables and held the pouches open while Jean filled them with the spices she had prepared.
“You’re doing well,” she said as she worked on mending some clothes afterwards, “with learning the language. I’ve seen some new traders never be able to master the language and others who have only done it after much difficulty.”
Rodney thought through what she said, trying to translate every word. He was pleased that he was able to get most of them, though a few still eluded him. “Thank you,” he replied, secretly pleased with the compliment. But he knew there was no way he’d be able to explain to her that compared to quantum physics, learning a new language was a piece of cake.
Kelly came in with an older gentleman that he startlingly resembled. “Rodney, would you like to have dinner with my father and I?” he asked, pointing between himself and his father and then putting his fingers to his lips like he was bringing something to his mouth.
Rodney looked at Jean, who nodded that he could go, and quickly said, “Sure,” as he stood. “Let me tell Kirby.”
“I already talked with Jillian at lunch,” Kelly replied with a smile. “They know not to expect you.”
Rodney narrowed his eyes slightly – first while figuring out the second part of what Kelly had said and then at being decided upon behind his back. “Well, I’m glad you think it’s okay to decide these things for me.”
Kelly looked at him, confused, and Rodney waved it off as he followed Kelly and his father into their quarters. Rodney looked around as his hosts began gathering the necessary items for their meal. The space was the same size and shape as Kirby and Jillian’s quarters – which Rodney had assumed was the same for all couples or two person families. The space was less cluttered, though, due to the two of them being herders and not needing the medicinal paraphernalia that Kirby needed or the odd pieces of glass that Jillian brought home. Their two cots were set up along the same wall, unlike Jillian and Kirby’s (and now Rodney’s), and their respective trunks were at the foot of their cots (that was the same). Other than the fire pit in the middle, and a set of shelves and two more trunks on another wall, the place was bare.
The two men worked efficiently and Rodney could see where Kelly got many of his mannerisms and movements from. They talked quietly while preparing the food. Rodney was surprised to see Kelly bring over three long kebabs loaded with fresh yak meat and vegetables.
Taking one of the kebabs and holding it over the fire, Rodney quietly asked Kelly, “Isn’t this too much?” He really hoped he wasn’t going to make eating hard for them.
Kelly looked at him inquisitively. “No,” he replied just as softly. “Don’t your people also share food together?”
“We do, but we have more food to begin with.”
Kelly considered this and smiled. “Don’t worry – my father and I won’t starve.”
“One other thing – what’s your dad’s name?”
Kelly laughed. “He is also named Kelly. I was named after him. Is this a custom among your people as well?”
“It is,” Rodney replied with a nod
“How are you settling in?” the elder Kelly asked.
“Okay,” Rodney replied with a quick shrug, sparing a quick glance from where he was closely watching his kebab as he turned it steadily over the flame.
“You seem to be adapting well – your progress in our language is quite remarkable. I’m sure you miss home.”
“Yeah, I –” Rodney stopped mid-thought. He hadn’t thought of home – of Atlantis – for some time. Not that he thought this place was home, far from it, but....
Kelly lightly shook his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern showing in both his and his father’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Rodney replied softly. “I just remembered that I haven’t thought of home in a quite a while. And I do miss it.” After a pause, he asked, “What are my chances of being able to go home?”
“Not good,” Kelly Sr. replied. “You come from an unknown people. We may not have much, but we will not risk what little we do have, along with all of our contacts, to either your people or to some other threat.”
Rodney nodded, hearing the sense in that as they took their finished kebabs away from the fire. “How long have I been here?” Now that the subject was dredged up, he wanted to know. He had kept a tally for a while, but he stopped after the second week – it had been getting too depressing.
“Three months.” the elder Kelly replied.
Rodney was surprised it had been that long, though looking back, it seemed about right. “I’ve noticed,” Rodney paused to think of the right words, “that your people spend a fair amount of time in silence. Why?”
Kelly and his father shared a look while they chewed and his father nodded slightly. After considering a little longer, Kelly said, “It is something that has been passed down through the generations. Our people are not as spiritually-minded as some, but we do have some core beliefs – like all peoples, I think. We believe that many, many generations ago, our people severely affronted the Gods, causing them to start the sandstorms as punishment. The people, realizing their error, repented immediately, but the Gods had withdrawn in their hurt. Since then, we have upheld the tenets they taught us – to do good to one another, speak truthfully always, forgive as fully as possible without retaliation, and uphold the model for relationships that they had revealed to us. We’ve also taken up meditation as a means to look inside ourselves and find any flaws that have developed so we can then fix them in the hopes that one day we will become good enough again for the Gods to return and restore their providence over us. We see the breaks in the sandstorm as a sign of hope that one day this may be the case.”
Rodney nodded in understanding. “That sounds similar to what many of the peoples where I come from believe in and do. What’s the model of relationships?” He was curious, since he hadn’t seen anything different than what he had seen anywhere else.
“The Gods modeled the ideal that each person should have one mate and one firm friend. We take seriously our relationship with our mates. Our clan is too small for us to stray away – aside from the fact that it would go against our beliefs. Also, we value the wealth that comes from having a close friend who is as close as – if not closer than – a brother to help us through times of trouble, to share our joys, and to help us discern our course of action in times of confusion.”
“No more questions about such things,” Kelly Sr. said. “I think we should move on to other topics to keep from boring our guest to tears.”
The younger men nodded and Kelly Sr. asked, “How did things go today with Jean?”
“Okay, aside from the soup,” Rodney replied and all three men smiled.
“With mistakes come wisdom. You’ll find your place here among us soon enough.”
The next day, Rodney didn’t return to help Jean and was glad she didn’t seem upset by it. (However, he was also secretly happy that she didn’t seem overly excited about it either.) Instead, he left early and went down to the pools to help with the laundry for their cluster.
The trio that took care of it, headed by a man that looked about Rodney’s age named Keith, seemed pleasantly surprised that Rodney wanted to help them. They showed him how to carefully apply the soap to the clothes and how to wash them in the middle third of one of the pools before wringing them dry and laying them out on racks to finish.
Rodney was doing well and felt confident in what he was doing as the day went on and was soon able to keep up with the output of the others. Near the end of the day, however, Keith playfully splashed Rodney with some of the soapy water. Rodney sputtered a bit as the others laughed. When he reached down to retaliate, he over-extended and fell in – which caused them to laugh even harder. Rodney came up spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes. Keith helped him out of the water and handed him a towel.
“No hard feelings, I hope?” he asked.
Rodney shook his head as he wiped off his face and rubbed the towel through his hair, causing it to stick up all over. Keith laughed some more as Rodney inefficiently ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he replied, with a small smile. “Just wasn’t expecting to take a bath today.”
Keith chuckled. “You did well for your first time. Many never seem to get the hang of it. Will we see you next time?”
Rodney shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
Keith nodded as he joined Jen and Karl in folding the dry clothes and sorting them into piles according to the marks on the sleeves. “You’ll figure out where you’re supposed to be.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to think,” Rodney muttered bitterly, as he finished drying himself off, unsure how they could be so optimistic about him.
“Here,” Keith said, handing him two stacks of clothing, “this one,” he put it into Rodney’s right hand, “goes to Kelly and his son and this one,” he put the other in Rodney’s left hand, “is yours, Kirby’s and Jillian’s. Your things are on top.”
Rodney nodded mutely as he headed out, wondering when exactly he had started settling in enough to accumulate clothing and not really sure he wanted an answer.
Continue to Part 4
The complete header can be found in part 1.
Previous parts can be found here.
Rodney woke up with a groan. This was an all too familiar feeling. Soft voices nearby hushed each other. Rodney slowly sat up with the aid of some gentle hands. He dry-scrubbed his face and sighed before opening his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked no one in particular while making a pointer finger go around in a lazy circle.
“You passed out,” Jillian said. “My father says he has seen this happen before, so we fed you some sweets and you came around.” She showed him the candies and he gingerly sniffed one before taking a tentative bite. It was extremely sweet and dissolved quickly on his tongue.
Rodney nodded his approval as he looked at Kirby. “Good thinking,” he said, eating the rest of the piece. “Now, I need a sandwich.” He mimed eating something. Kirby nodded and handed him a plate with some fresh meat, fruit, and bread. Rodney ate quickly with Kirby watching him like a hawk. When he was done, Jillian took the plate from him and Rodney said, “Okay, I think I’m good here, please go about your business.” He pretended to push the intrigued crowd away. Jillian helped him up and, when Kirby seemed satisfied that Rodney wasn’t going to fall over any minute, took him into their quarters.
“I need to shave tomorrow,” Rodney said, imitating shaving his beard.
“Yes, after you get some sleep,” Jillian replied with a nod.
Laying down in his bed, Rodney asked, “Do a lot of people come through the ‘Gate?” Rodney moved a finger back and forth between them before spreading his arms wide, then made a circle for the Ring, a few hand walking steps and pointed to the floor.
Jillian shook her head and placed her hands about a hand span apart, which Rodney took to mean a small amount. She then put a finger to her lips before placing her hand over his eyes. Rodney didn’t need to do any translating to know she was telling him to be quiet and go to sleep. He sighed as he turned on his side facing the room and pulled up his blanket. Jillian dimmed the nearby light and went back out into the commons. Rodney tried to stay awake so he could start planning a way home but was soon asleep.
It took Rodney about a week to figure out that the sandstorm was on a regular 72 hours on, three hours off, cycle, the first day of his captivity notwithstanding (he still had to figure out where that anomaly came from). And from there, it didn’t take long for Rodney to figure out that there was probably no way in hell that Sheppard or Elizabeth or anyone else on Atlantis would be able to figure out how to get to him; or, at least not in the time he knew Elizabeth would give them to look for him.
During the course of figuring out the sandstorm’s schedule, Rodney also mapped out the common areas of the complex – which was much larger than he expected – to have an idea of how things were laid out. He even calculated possible weak spots and ways of escape – which, once he realized he was doing it, made him think of John and Ronon and he felt a tinge of sadness. Not that he’d survive long out in the desert, but he knew it was better to be aware of these things.
He found that the complex also had rooms for preparing either yarn or thread, Rodney wasn’t quite sure which and weaving the thread into cloth, as well as a section of the caves beyond the pools that were used to make glass. It hit him as he left one of the weaving rooms that he knew where the raw supply was coming from – the cocoons on the walls of the cave must be some sort of silkworm.
Rodney was surprised that they let him have free rein to wander around during the day. True, it wasn’t exactly as if he could go anywhere else and they spoke a different language, but he was still a foreigner and hadn’t done anything to show them they could trust him. And that train of thought reminded him of Teyla and her reminders when they went off-world.
The people Rodney came in contact with were generally nice and displayed a lot of the same physical traits that the people in his area did – predominantly red hair and thin as a rail. And he felt that they were actually too nice. They always smiled when they saw him, and a few would even wave. Some tried to talk to him, but Rodney had to sheepishly shrug and tell them he didn’t know what they were saying – then they would just shrug and shoo him off with a smile. But no one looked at him distrustfully or with any sort of malice – only a warmth he wasn’t used to and a muted curiosity, as if they would find out whatever they wanted to know about him in due time. And the kids seemed to be especially curious of him and would continually come over to him and ask him questions, even though he had no clue what they were saying. He hoped the relief he felt when the parents called the kids back didn’t show too evidently on his face.
Since he lived so close to the entrance of the caves, Rodney saw that after the next break in the sandstorm, a little over eight hours later, new people appeared in the entry of the tent. Kirby would meet them, and then direct them to where they needed to go before returning to his work. Rodney asked Jillian about them and she told him they were traders from other planets, come to do business.
After thinking things through after the second sandstorm had finished and the ambassadors had arrived, Rodney decided to hitch a ride with them when he left. He knew it would be easy enough to turn around once he got to another planet and go back to Atlantis from there – provided the people he went with didn’t care, or he was able to avoid detection, which was highly unlikely.
A few hours before the next break in the sandstorm was due, Rodney was waiting by the door to the tunnel, clothed in his BDUs with his gear ready to go. He greeted the leaving party with a slight bow, opened the door for them and shut the door behind himself before following behind them. The men looked at him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing as they started walking. The three men paid little attention him as they walked, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Rodney, for once, had no problems with not being included in the conversation. He simply needed a way off this damn rock so he could get home. As he walked, Rodney began going through different scenarios he could use to get through the ‘Gate, from jumping through at the last moment to just walking through along with the rest of the group, weighing the odds of each.
He was still weighing his options, including ones that involved taking hostages, and wondering if he could pull those off, when they stopped to eat. One of the men raised an eyebrow at him while they pulled out food, but Rodney smirked a little as he pulled out the food he had stored away in his pack – which had been surprisingly easy to get a hold of. They were finishing up the meal when Kelly and Jillian showed up, both looking a little winded. Jillian looked furious while Kelly’s understanding look was mixed with an expression that Rodney could only translate as, ‘You’re totally in trouble’.
Rodney watched as there was a flurry of exchanged words between the two groups. While the tone on both sides was urgent, it didn’t sound angry. Then Jillian grabbed Rodney’s hand and hauled him up and started stalking back the way they had come down the corridor, at one point pushing him forward to walk in front of her, with Kelly bringing up the rear. When they got back to the tent, Jillian marched Rodney into their quarters and pushed him down on his bed with a glare and stormed out.
Rodney stayed put, not sure what kind of trouble he was in. A few minutes later, a girl came in with some food and water for him, but other than that, Rodney saw no one before falling into an exhausted sleep not long after he finished eating. The next morning, the incident seemed to have been forgotten by Jillian, which both puzzled and relieved Rodney.
Realizing that now any chance he had of leaving had been effectively quashed, Rodney sulked. He missed Atlantis more than he thought possible – even more than when he’d been stuck at Area 51 after the Asurans had forced them out of Atlantis. There was a possibility of going home, which was how he thought of Atlantis, and no way of acting on it. There wasn’t even a way of sending them a note saying, ‘I’m all right. They’re holding me hostage, but I’m working out an escape plan. Keep the lights on.’
Jillian and Kirby tried to engage him in talking, but to no avail. Kelly stopped by a few times over the next couple of days to see him and once tried to teach him a game, but Rodney wasn’t interested. He even started eating less – partly because he honestly wasn’t hungry, which he knew was an oddity for him, and partly because he was considering seeing how far he could go before they’d be willing to negotiate his going home in order to end his hunger strike.
A week into his sulk, Rodney wandered down into the caves to get away from everyone and their concerned glances. It seemed like Kirby and Jillian were telling everyone what was going on and, while he would have loved the attention if he was home, among strangers Rodney just didn’t want to deal with their concern when he was feeling so depressed. He began pacing in front of the pools, the sound of the water soothing him and helping to anchor him.
“Look,” he said to thin air as he continued pacing, “I know you’re not real, and even if you were, why you would come – or would that be come back? – with us to the Pegasus Galaxy. But if you are real and you are here, could you *please* do something about getting me back to Atlantis? We both know that I don’t deserve to be stuck here and that Atlantis needs me much more than these people do. And I highly doubt this is some sort of practical joke on your part. So, what kind of deal can we make, hmm? Because, did I mention the spectacular unfairness of this whole situation I’m in?”
A scuffing noise behind him had Rodney whirling around to find Kelly on the path leading down into the chamber. Kelly had an amused look on his face as he looked around the otherwise empty room.
Rodney gave him a withering look as he said, “Can’t a man do *anything* in private in this place? Seriously, I give up.” He threw his hands up in the air in disgust. “I can’t even properly cuss out God without someone butting in.” Holding his hands out to his sides with the palms up, he asked, “What do you want?”
Kelly simply cocked an eyebrow as he entered the rest of the way into the cavern and Rodney could have sworn the look was exactly the same as John’s ‘Are you done yet?’ expression.
“I think I’m done,” he said, walking over to Kelly. “It’s not like I’m going to get an answer anyway.” They returned to the camp in comfortable silence, but Rodney wasn’t so sure the prematurely-ended rant had really done anything to ease his dissatisfaction at being stuck there.
Entering the tent, Kelly held up the pouch containing the dice game he’d been trying to teach Rodney. “Sure,” Rodney replied with a noncommittal shrug and a quick nod. “Let’s play. It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere anytime soon and I have nothing better to do.”
As Kelly set it up, Rodney heard Jillian talking with – or, more accurately, at – a small relative of hers. Rodney was pretty sure the toddler was a cousin, but he wasn’t completely sure. She was repeating the same thing over and over again and, after a while, Rodney began to assume she was asking him to name something and telling him what it is, since she had been doing the same thing the day before. Looking up from the dice, he saw that it was the spoon she had been using for the exercise the day before and muttered under his breath, “It’s a spoon,” using the Lapran word for it, “it’s not that big of a deal.”
Kelly looked up at him with a confused look on his face. “What did you just say?” he asked.
“What?” Rodney asked, turning his attention to Kelly.
“You said ‘spoon’ – in my language.”
“You know I can’t understand you,” Rodney said tersely as Kelly called Jillian over. She came with the spoon and child and sat down next to Rodney and Kelly, a confused look on her face.
Taking the spoon from her and holding it up, Kelly asked Rodney the same question Jillian had been asking the little boy, “What is this?”
Sensing what Kelly was up to, Rodney sullen replied, “A spoon.”
Both Kelly and Jillian grinned and Kelly tapped Rodney on the nose with the convex side of the spoon before handing it back to Jillian as he said to her, “See, I told you he said it.”
Gesturing to the three of them and pointing at the spoon, Rodney said, “So this was all about me?” as he pointed to himself.
Jillian shook her head ‘no’ as she pointed to the little boy seated in her lap and, with a frustrated sigh, said, “I’m trying to teach my cousin to talk and he’s being rather stubborn – just like everyone else in his family.”
Rodney stared at her and the child, who was grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing, for a minute before realizing that it really didn’t have anything to do with him. “Oh,” he said, not sure how to pull his foot from his mouth.
“Do you want to learn?” Kelly asked, pointing at Rodney and then at the spoon.
“I don’t understand,” Rodney replied.
Kelly sighed, took the spoon from Jillian and held it up.
“Spoon,” Rodney replied instinctively. When Kelly held up one of the dice, he shrugged helplessly and said, “I don’t know.”
“Die,” Kelly said.
“Die,” Rodney repeated and Kelly and Jillian smiled. Kelly smiled and pointed at Rodney, then held up two fingers and touched a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I guess I do know two words now. Like *that’s* really useful.”
Jillian rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll start teaching him tomorrow, Kelly.” Looking at Rodney, she gestured between the two of them, then made a gesture for one sleep, and then moved her hands back and forth between the two of them as if they were talking. Rodney nodded. “If you tried to do it, he wouldn’t be able to string two words together.”
Kelly made a face at Rodney and her, and the kid, who had moved off of Jillian’s lap and was now playing with the forgotten dice, laughed. “We better get to bed,” he said, standing.
Rodney and Jillian also stood, Jillian sighing as she gathered up the little boy who was shaking his head and digging his heels into the floor when Jillian tried to move him. She swung him up into her arms and headed out, followed by Kelly, who gave Rodney a small bow – which Rodney returned before quickly changing into his pajamas before Kirby or Jillian had a chance to come in. He rinsed his mouth out with their home-made mouthwash and spit it out in the chamber pot before climbing into bed. Kirby came in as Rodney finished getting settled and gave him a big smile before getting ready for bed himself.
The next morning started a pattern that began to mold Rodney’s new life. In the morning, over breakfast and for a little while afterwards, he’d work with Jillian on learning their language. Then, while she was at work – which, from what Rodney could gather, was in the glass department where she made cups and bowls, Rodney was free to do as he pleased. This meant that he didn’t do much, since he had no idea what he was allowed to do, what sort of work his capabilities would best suit him to on such a low-technology planet, or how he could ask, with his limited linguistic knowledge. He usually ended up wandering around the complex or down into the caves, the days blurring into each other easily.
He did try staying put one day outside their quarters, but the only thing to do there was watch Kirby treat people and Rodney considered Kirby’s practice to be much more voodoo-related than even Carson’s, so he paid it little mind. However, he did listen in a little bit, trying to practice the language. The steadily increasing pool of random words he could understand was heartening, but in some cases utterly ineffectual when it came to expressing ideas or abstractions – which frustrated him to no end.
Kirby did seem to like him and not mind that he was taking up some of their limited space. Rodney even got the impression that Kirby might have even been a little amused with him. He would even try to engage Rodney in conversation whenever he got the chance, much to Rodney’s frustration. And Rodney was finding that he liked Kirby, even if he didn’t understand ninety-five percent of the things Kirby told him. His imposing stature kind of scared Rodney – much like Ronon’s had when he had first come to Atlantis.
When Jillian came home, she would work some more on the language with Rodney, but more for review than to learn anything new, while she made dinner and Kirby made ‘house calls’. After dinner, Kelly would usually come over and play a game of dice to try to get Rodney to use as much of his vocabulary as he could.
One night, Rodney started, “I… um… I need…” He made a small gesture of holding something in his hand and pulling it towards himself as he searched his brain for the words. “I… no….” He grimaced as he kept coming up blank. Trying a different tactic, he said, “Jillian – glass. You –” Rodney waved a hand at Kelly, who was waiting patiently for him to finish, “yaks. Kirby –,” Rodney made a sick face. “Me –,” he shrugged his shoulders hopelessly.
Kelly thought about it for a minute and then smiled. “You *need*,” he repeated Rodney’s motion of cupping something and pulling it towards himself, “to just ask,” he gestured between the two of them, “anyone,” he made an all-encompassing gesture, “and they’d be happy to have you help.” He made a two-handed gesture like he was handing something over.
Rodney considered both Kelly’s gestures and the little he understood of what Kelly had said, then nodded before taking his turn.
The next morning, Rodney felt a certain optimism he hadn’t felt since coming to this planet as he exited the quarters he was sharing with Kirby and Jillian after his morning lesson. He resolutely went over to Jean, who seemed to be the “den mother” of their little cluster of rooms; she was an older woman who, as far as Rodney could tell, had no husband or children, young ones at any rate, and she tended to cook a midday meal for everyone who lived in their cluster (Rodney had noticed that people tended to go home for lunch instead of taking it with them to their worksite). She also did small odd jobs for those in her “care”, such as mending clothing, lending an ear to talk to if Kirby was busy, and watching and teaching the younger children while their parents worked.
She looked up at him curiously as she straightened up from helping one little girl with a stitching project. “Yes, Rodney? What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I want… um… I want to help you,” he said, nervously.
She smiled and nodded. “I’d greatly appreciate it.” She went over to the fire and picked up a pail. Handing it to him, she said, “I need more yak chips for the fire,” and pointed to the fire.
Rodney sighed as he headed down to the corral to get the requested item. It would figure that his first job would be retrieving dung. He had come to the conclusion pretty quickly that the stuff had to be treated with something that reduced the smoke and odor and made it last for a fairly long time.
Sighing again, he set the pail up on the railing and called, “Kelly!”
Kelly came over and grinned when he saw the pail. “I see you found someone to help,” he said, taking the pail. “How much?” and placed a finger at various points on the pail.
Rodney shrugged. “Jean wanted...” he thought for a minute, “it.”
Kelly nodded and took it over to one of the large bins they used to hold the unpleasant stuff and filled the pail halfway. Bringing the pail back and handing it over with a smile, Kelly said, “Have a good time.”
Rodney rolled his eyes as he took the pail and left with a sarcastic wave.
Jean smiled at him as Rodney put the pail back, but she didn’t interrupt the story she was telling to the group of enrapt kids. Rodney sat at the back of the group and, while he could only understand tiny pieces, he couldn’t help but smile at how engrossed the kids were. By the way they reacted to the story, he could see it was one that they knew but still loved every time they heard it. When she finished telling the story, Jean asked a question and hands shot up in the air. Rodney chuckled – some things apparently never changed, regardless of the time or galaxy.
When the kids were given a short break, Rodney made to stand, but Jean waved him back down. She brought over a large pot with water and a basket of dried vegetables. She pulled a knife out of her apron and picked up one of the vegetables into the pot before handing the knife to Rodney with an expectant look on her face. Rodney nodded and sighed – kitchen duty. He began cutting up the vegetables as she had and adding them to the pot.
Stirring the beginnings of the soup when he had finished, Jean said made a face, “Not bad for a first time,” and handed over some yak jerky for him to tear up and add in as well, along with some spice pouches.
Rodney carefully tore up the meat and added it in, mixing it in with the vegetables. Then he carefully sniffed the pouches and added a tiny bit of a potent-smelling spice and a generous pinch of a sweeter-smelling one. He mixed it together thoroughly before taking it over to the fire and hanging it on the hook over top of it.
Jean looked at him questioningly as she took the pouches from him and leaned in to taste it. She grimaced and said sternly, “You used too much,” and held up the pouch of the sweet spice, “not so much next time.” She took another spoonful and held it out for Rodney to taste. He did so and grimace as well at the sweetness. “ I think I can salvage it,” as she added some more of the more potent spice and mixing it in. Tasting it again, she shrugged. “It’ll have to do.” She handed him another spoonful and Rodney could taste the difference – the sweetness had gone down a notch or two and he could taste a spicy undercurrent – kind of like curry powder.
Rodney, not completely sure what she had said, looked contrite and said, “I’m sorry.”
“We will have to be more careful next time,” she said, waving him to sit down next to her. “You may be a man, but in our ways you are very much a child and will need to be taught as such.”
Rodney wasn’t sure how to respond to that and said, “I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” she replied with a smile. “And one day you will look back on this and see how far you’ve come.”
The kids came back and Jean began teaching them again – this time in some sort of recitation exercise as Rodney watched the soup and stirred it occasionally. When they were done, Jean said something to them and they all looked at Rodney with a mix of surprise and glee and Rodney was scared of what she had told them. They disappeared into their homes as some of the adults began drifting back from work and Rodney realized it was lunch time.
Everyone collected their lunch utensils and lined up to get the soup. Jean made Rodney dish it out as she passed out small hunks of bread that had mysteriously appeared. He suspected that the duty was a mix of letting him continue to help and so that the others could see that he had made the soup. Once everyone had received their share, including Jean, Rodney retrieved his own things and served himself lunch, moving to eat by himself and watch everyone else eat and socialize.
“Not bad,” Kirby said, sitting down next to him with a smile, and pointing at the soup with his spoon.
“Yeah, well, let’s make sure it doesn’t kill anyone first,” Rodney commented as he ate another spoonful, thankful that the soup hadn’t turned out too horribly once it had been allowed to cook for a while.
“If you decide this isn’t what you want, you could help me,” Kirby commented.
“I don’t think so,” Rodney replied. “I don’t have the... the....” He tapped his forehead and Kirby nodded in understanding. “Besides,” he muttered under his breath, “I don’t want to have to deal with Carson’s taunting after all the voodoo comments I’ve made about *his* medicinal practices.”
After lunch, Rodney helped Jean clean up and even carted things down to the pools to wash everything out. He learned, haltingly, that the classes were only held in the mornings, so he sat back down to help her prepare things for her dinner and the next day’s lunch. He prepared the vegetables and held the pouches open while Jean filled them with the spices she had prepared.
“You’re doing well,” she said as she worked on mending some clothes afterwards, “with learning the language. I’ve seen some new traders never be able to master the language and others who have only done it after much difficulty.”
Rodney thought through what she said, trying to translate every word. He was pleased that he was able to get most of them, though a few still eluded him. “Thank you,” he replied, secretly pleased with the compliment. But he knew there was no way he’d be able to explain to her that compared to quantum physics, learning a new language was a piece of cake.
Kelly came in with an older gentleman that he startlingly resembled. “Rodney, would you like to have dinner with my father and I?” he asked, pointing between himself and his father and then putting his fingers to his lips like he was bringing something to his mouth.
Rodney looked at Jean, who nodded that he could go, and quickly said, “Sure,” as he stood. “Let me tell Kirby.”
“I already talked with Jillian at lunch,” Kelly replied with a smile. “They know not to expect you.”
Rodney narrowed his eyes slightly – first while figuring out the second part of what Kelly had said and then at being decided upon behind his back. “Well, I’m glad you think it’s okay to decide these things for me.”
Kelly looked at him, confused, and Rodney waved it off as he followed Kelly and his father into their quarters. Rodney looked around as his hosts began gathering the necessary items for their meal. The space was the same size and shape as Kirby and Jillian’s quarters – which Rodney had assumed was the same for all couples or two person families. The space was less cluttered, though, due to the two of them being herders and not needing the medicinal paraphernalia that Kirby needed or the odd pieces of glass that Jillian brought home. Their two cots were set up along the same wall, unlike Jillian and Kirby’s (and now Rodney’s), and their respective trunks were at the foot of their cots (that was the same). Other than the fire pit in the middle, and a set of shelves and two more trunks on another wall, the place was bare.
The two men worked efficiently and Rodney could see where Kelly got many of his mannerisms and movements from. They talked quietly while preparing the food. Rodney was surprised to see Kelly bring over three long kebabs loaded with fresh yak meat and vegetables.
Taking one of the kebabs and holding it over the fire, Rodney quietly asked Kelly, “Isn’t this too much?” He really hoped he wasn’t going to make eating hard for them.
Kelly looked at him inquisitively. “No,” he replied just as softly. “Don’t your people also share food together?”
“We do, but we have more food to begin with.”
Kelly considered this and smiled. “Don’t worry – my father and I won’t starve.”
“One other thing – what’s your dad’s name?”
Kelly laughed. “He is also named Kelly. I was named after him. Is this a custom among your people as well?”
“It is,” Rodney replied with a nod
“How are you settling in?” the elder Kelly asked.
“Okay,” Rodney replied with a quick shrug, sparing a quick glance from where he was closely watching his kebab as he turned it steadily over the flame.
“You seem to be adapting well – your progress in our language is quite remarkable. I’m sure you miss home.”
“Yeah, I –” Rodney stopped mid-thought. He hadn’t thought of home – of Atlantis – for some time. Not that he thought this place was home, far from it, but....
Kelly lightly shook his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern showing in both his and his father’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Rodney replied softly. “I just remembered that I haven’t thought of home in a quite a while. And I do miss it.” After a pause, he asked, “What are my chances of being able to go home?”
“Not good,” Kelly Sr. replied. “You come from an unknown people. We may not have much, but we will not risk what little we do have, along with all of our contacts, to either your people or to some other threat.”
Rodney nodded, hearing the sense in that as they took their finished kebabs away from the fire. “How long have I been here?” Now that the subject was dredged up, he wanted to know. He had kept a tally for a while, but he stopped after the second week – it had been getting too depressing.
“Three months.” the elder Kelly replied.
Rodney was surprised it had been that long, though looking back, it seemed about right. “I’ve noticed,” Rodney paused to think of the right words, “that your people spend a fair amount of time in silence. Why?”
Kelly and his father shared a look while they chewed and his father nodded slightly. After considering a little longer, Kelly said, “It is something that has been passed down through the generations. Our people are not as spiritually-minded as some, but we do have some core beliefs – like all peoples, I think. We believe that many, many generations ago, our people severely affronted the Gods, causing them to start the sandstorms as punishment. The people, realizing their error, repented immediately, but the Gods had withdrawn in their hurt. Since then, we have upheld the tenets they taught us – to do good to one another, speak truthfully always, forgive as fully as possible without retaliation, and uphold the model for relationships that they had revealed to us. We’ve also taken up meditation as a means to look inside ourselves and find any flaws that have developed so we can then fix them in the hopes that one day we will become good enough again for the Gods to return and restore their providence over us. We see the breaks in the sandstorm as a sign of hope that one day this may be the case.”
Rodney nodded in understanding. “That sounds similar to what many of the peoples where I come from believe in and do. What’s the model of relationships?” He was curious, since he hadn’t seen anything different than what he had seen anywhere else.
“The Gods modeled the ideal that each person should have one mate and one firm friend. We take seriously our relationship with our mates. Our clan is too small for us to stray away – aside from the fact that it would go against our beliefs. Also, we value the wealth that comes from having a close friend who is as close as – if not closer than – a brother to help us through times of trouble, to share our joys, and to help us discern our course of action in times of confusion.”
“No more questions about such things,” Kelly Sr. said. “I think we should move on to other topics to keep from boring our guest to tears.”
The younger men nodded and Kelly Sr. asked, “How did things go today with Jean?”
“Okay, aside from the soup,” Rodney replied and all three men smiled.
“With mistakes come wisdom. You’ll find your place here among us soon enough.”
The next day, Rodney didn’t return to help Jean and was glad she didn’t seem upset by it. (However, he was also secretly happy that she didn’t seem overly excited about it either.) Instead, he left early and went down to the pools to help with the laundry for their cluster.
The trio that took care of it, headed by a man that looked about Rodney’s age named Keith, seemed pleasantly surprised that Rodney wanted to help them. They showed him how to carefully apply the soap to the clothes and how to wash them in the middle third of one of the pools before wringing them dry and laying them out on racks to finish.
Rodney was doing well and felt confident in what he was doing as the day went on and was soon able to keep up with the output of the others. Near the end of the day, however, Keith playfully splashed Rodney with some of the soapy water. Rodney sputtered a bit as the others laughed. When he reached down to retaliate, he over-extended and fell in – which caused them to laugh even harder. Rodney came up spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes. Keith helped him out of the water and handed him a towel.
“No hard feelings, I hope?” he asked.
Rodney shook his head as he wiped off his face and rubbed the towel through his hair, causing it to stick up all over. Keith laughed some more as Rodney inefficiently ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he replied, with a small smile. “Just wasn’t expecting to take a bath today.”
Keith chuckled. “You did well for your first time. Many never seem to get the hang of it. Will we see you next time?”
Rodney shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
Keith nodded as he joined Jen and Karl in folding the dry clothes and sorting them into piles according to the marks on the sleeves. “You’ll figure out where you’re supposed to be.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to think,” Rodney muttered bitterly, as he finished drying himself off, unsure how they could be so optimistic about him.
“Here,” Keith said, handing him two stacks of clothing, “this one,” he put it into Rodney’s right hand, “goes to Kelly and his son and this one,” he put the other in Rodney’s left hand, “is yours, Kirby’s and Jillian’s. Your things are on top.”
Rodney nodded mutely as he headed out, wondering when exactly he had started settling in enough to accumulate clothing and not really sure he wanted an answer.
Continue to Part 4
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no subject
Date: 2008-12-10 12:27 am (UTC)One thing though, could you please link your chapters together. It will be much easier to move to the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2008-12-10 01:48 am (UTC)And sorry! It's now fixed and I'll remember in the future.