Chapter 23
White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, DC
October 11, 2010
On a balcony observing the selective group in the White House ballroom below President Robert Kinsey was looking forward to the day’s Columbus Day celebrations, for to him, the day symbolised progression and the power of God.
Deciding to join the mingling crowd Kinsey turned away from the railing just as the lights of the ballroom flickered and died. The light in the room dimmed significantly although the morning light still streamed in from the shaded windows. Casting an annoyed look about, Kinsey turned towards the closest member of his Secret Service agents.
Agent Harris gave the president a puzzled look in response as his hand tapped on his earpiece. He was not hearing anything on the radio. In fact, he would have to say the earpiece was not working.
Harris and the three other agents closed in around Kinsey just as the White House’s back up lighting engaged.
Kinsey was just beginning to demand Harris tell him what was going on when Major General Frank Simmons and aids hurried towards the group.
“Well Frank?” Kinsey turned his ire on the military man.
“Mister President,” Simmons said respectfully. “We have a… situation.”
“What? Well, fix it!” Kinsey snapped in annoyance.
“We’re trying Sir,” Simmons responded, his tone not very confident. “There is a call for you Sir.”
“A call for me?” Kinsey raised an eyebrow superciliously. “No one calls me General, I call them.”
“I think you’ll want to take this one Sir,” Simmons said softly. “It’s on the old Goa’uld long-range communication orb in your office. And it’s Jack O’Neill.”
“O’Neill,” Kinsey sneered even as he looked slightly baffled. What would his defeated nemesis doing calling him on Goa’uld technology?
“He says Sir, that you would have questions for him. Like what just caused the White House’s power outage.”
Kinsey’s face turned furious at the clear implications that O’Neill knew of, or had caused, the power outage his residence was still experiencing. Storming off in the direction that Simmons had just come from, the general, aids, and bodyguards hurried to keep up.
Finally Kinsey reached the Oval Office and found, that just as Frank had said, the one of Apophis’ soccer ball sized Goa’uld long-distance communication orbs was activated on his desk and the face of O’Neill was within the sphere.
“Hello Bob,” Jack greeted with a smirk from within the orb.
“O’Neill,” Kinsey growled, “I do not know what you expect to accomplish with this prank but you will not get away with it!”
Jack looked amused though his eyes were scornful. “Prank Bob? I think most governments call these sorts of things coups d’état… although I’m not really going to take over—too much work.”
“A coup?” Kinsey gave a bark of laughter. “I know all about your measly resistance O’Neill, preaching for freedom from the Confederation. You can’t do a thing to overthrow me. Give up O’Neill. You’ve lost. Be grateful that I let you retreat to the wilds of Montana!”
“Measly?” Now Jack looked very, very amused. “I’ll tell my one thousand one hundred ninety-two planets you said that.”
Kinsey blanched as all the blood drained from his face. That… that… that was impossible! All the reports had said that O’Neill’s resistance was small and disorganised with no foundation. That even if O’Neill did attempt anything, it would easily be countered by his people and most importantly, their Aschen technology.
“You’re bluffing,” Kinsey said shakily.
Jack gave an enigmatic smile that was entirely too truthful. “Well, you’ll see the truth of my claims soon enough won’t you?”
Kinsey opened his mouth again to speak and Jack cut him off.
“But it won’t really be the resistance you will be answering to Kinsey,” Jack’s head nodded at another Goa’uld orb that was on display on a nearby shelf, an orb that would pick up the Veritas broadcast. The orbs, like other artefacts on display like a vo’cume, were part of Kinsey’s trophy collection of Goa’uld tech. Not that Goa’uld devices were all that he collected, as attested by the GDO on his desk. “But the people of Earth. I think you should watch the news.”
Still pale Kinsey gestured imperiously to Frank and the general obediently turned the second orb on. Using an Earth made controller Simmons flicked through a couple of channels but it did not matter, the only channel that was working was the one with the Veritas broadcast.
As Dr Daniel Jackson’s grave face was projected and solemnly apologised to the world for Earth’s alliance with the Aschen and began disclosing the consequences of the Alliance, Kinsey felt short of breath and groped for a seat.
“It hasn’t gotten to the good part yet,” Jack needled, “but I must say, you’re going to have a hard time claiming innocence when your entire campaign is based on the claim that you’re responsible for the Alliance. And when it gets out that you agreed to over thirty percent sterilisation of Earth in certain, non disclosed details of the treaty…”
Jack deliberately trailed off and let the unsaid say more than the spoken could.
Kinsey in his greed had bowed to the Aschen demands that Earth restrict its population growth by thirty percent. A fact that those that had signed the Alliance had kept concealed from the world.
Simmons wiped his sweating brow with a handkerchief. Cursing Jack O’Neill in his mind even if he had to admit a grudging admiration of the man’s tactics. O’Neill was not really engaging in a coup and taking control of the government—he didn’t have to—all he had to do was let the people of the government crucify Kinsey and his administration.
“Enjoy hearing the veritas,” Jack curtly nodded his head and the orb snapped off.
“Harris, find Faxon.” Kinsey ordered in voice that threatened to shake, “He’ll be able to contact the Aschen.”
Harris moved first to the phone on the Resolute desk and when hearing nothing, not even a dial tone on a hunch he moved to the president’s transport pad and pressed a key on the console to dial the Reed Terminal. Pressing a few more keys confirmed for him what he had already feared: the Aschen device was dead.
“Sorry Sir, neither the phone nor the transport is working.” Harris reported.
“What?” Kinsey exclaimed as he rose up from his seat. “Of course it works!”
Declining to argue Harris just stepped away from the transport console and let the president try pressing keys himself. After a few desperate and forceful jabs at the console, Kinsey made a sound in the back of his throat and turned to Harris.
“Well, then, order me a car!”
“I don’t think that will work Sir,” Harris said regretfully.
“What? Why not?” Kinsey snapped.
“Because Sir, the lights are Aschen, the phones are Aschen, the transports are Aschen, and the cars are Aschen.”
A look of horror crossed Kinsey’s face as he began to realise the true state of his situation.
“The stargate,” Kinsey groped desperately for escape. “What about the stargate?”
Harris did not have an answer for that but Simmons had his suspicions that O’Neill had also dealt with the one sure escape route off the planet. O’Neill had not seemed to leave anything else up to chance.
“I’ll investigate Sir,” Simmons offered.
“You do that Simmons,” Kinsey ordered, “and find out what else O’Neill has done!”
“Yes Sir,” Simmons replied and turning about, departed the Oval Office with his aids on his heels. It would take time but if they could get the old communication system up they could start figuring out how reaching O’Neill’s actions were.
But even if they were able to counter some things, Simmons suspected that the outcry from the planet’s population could not be moderated and countered. They had thought themselves masters of their world and were just discovering that the Piped Piper had returned to town.