Disclaimers: I do not own Roswell or Stargate SG-1. Just playing here, not making any money. Reviews are always appreciated.
After the events of their graduation, the Roswell teens went on the run, doing good in the world. As they traveled, they kept their ears open for news of alien activity, as well as government involvement with alien technology. They set themselves up as a traveling sideshow/carnival act, thus using their powers openly. Max played the role of a magician, levitating objects, creating flashes of light, and changing the color of people's hair. Maria performed on her guitar, with Isabel providing a light show. Liz set herself up as a palm reader, gathering information and warning people of future disaster and fortune. Kyle and Michael sold tickets and acted as crowd control. Spurred by rumors of a secret military project, they decided to set up camp at the base of Cheyenne Mountain.
“This is such a lame idea,” complains Isabel. “Pretending to be a carnival? Why do we have to set ourselves up as freaks? Besides, what if someone recognizes us? The whole idea of being on the run is to run away
, not chase after the people trying to kill us.” She nervously twirled a lock of her hair, currently bright red and curly. “I say we shouldn't do it.”
“Aww,” Maria piped up, “you're just jealous that you're not center stage. Why don't you work with Max? Be his lovely assistant. Every magician needs his lovely assistant you know.” She smirked at the look of disgust and dismay on the face of the beautiful alien teen.
“First of all,” she replied, “ the idea of a magician's assistant is so sexist. The man gets to do all the magic, and the woman is just eye candy. When people think of a magician's assistant, they think of some dumb bimbo with just enough brains to be able to smile and clap. And besides, I look trashy in sequins.” The girls looked at each other and started laughing. Together, they walked over to the tent where Liz and Max were setting up the fortune-teller's booth.
This booth would be their most important attraction, not for the money it might bring in, but for the information Liz could gather. With any luck, enough air force officers would file through for Liz to verify any rumors of alien technology, and a hidden camera would help Iz do a little snooping around later on. If one or two of the officers happened to dream about a pretty girl from the sideshow, well, that's understandable, isn't it? The alien teens and their friends could spy on the base with little risk of being caught. Their only worry was the chance of being recognized.
Over at the fortune-teller's tent, Max and Liz were just finishing up. The tent itself looked rather drab and out of place for a carnival: a large, old, canvas affair that had clearly seen better days. Isabel wrinkled her nose as she took in the sight. “You'd better do something about that thing. We want to attract customers, not scare them away.” Although the tent was large, it was worn, a drab green tent more suited to a family camping trip than a carnival sideshow.
Max grinned at his sister and placed his hand on the tent wall. A soft light swept over the fabric, erasing canvas, and, in its place, leaving glittery gold cloth. The tent shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. “I wanted to get it in place first,” he said, “It's much easier this way.” He frowned at his work for a minute. “Hmmm... It still needs something.” He placed his hand once again on the tent, and a giant eye appeared across the front, framed by the words, “all knowing, all seeing.” The effect was a bit over the top, but effective nonetheless. The teens looked at the gaudy display for a minute, then each drifted off to make their final preparations for the night's show. . . .
“Oh, come on, Daniel, it'll be fun!” Col. Jack O'Neil said as he walked down the corridor. “Carnivals are a vanishing piece of American culture. I'd have thought you'd be up for something like that; you're always going on about customs and traditions. Why not try something a little closer to home for once?” He looked over at his friend, a slightly bookish young man. He rolled his eyes and continued, “What about you, Teal'c? You've been dying to see more of the U.S., and this is the perfect opportunity to experience a time-honored tradition. Plus, you could go without your hat and no one would give you a second glance.”
The gigantic man O'Neil addressed thought it over. “This is indeed a strange tradition, Jack O'Neil. To see such illusion as the Goa'ould use, but as a form of entertainment is quite strange to me. It also seems highly barbaric to cut a woman in half and then attempt to reconnect the pieces. Do they use a sarcophagus as part of the ritual?” Teal'c, an alien Jaffa, was often confused by the bizarre traditions of his adopted home. “Could this be the work of a Goa'ould?”
O'Neil looked over at Teal'c, and smiled. “Don't worry so much, Teal'c, it's all just slight of hand, fooling the eye. Nothing is real. So how 'bout it? Cotton candy, magic, and fortune-telling?” He looked over at Daniel Jackson. “You too, Daniel. You need to get out and have some fun. You think too much.” With that, the three friends, elite members of SG-1, continued on their way.
The carnival was bright and busy that night. Children ran around underfoot, laughing and playing, while military officers roamed around casually. While it was a small carnival, it seemed to be very popular. SG-1 took their time looking around, debating where to go first. “Well, campers,” Jack said, “Magic show doesn't start for another 45 minutes; what should we do 'til then?” He looked around. “Not too many options; looks like it's music and dancing or the fortune teller. Guys?”
Teal'c spoke up. “I, for one, wish to see this fortune teller. On Chulak, such seers were held in high regard, if their predictions were known to be accurate. Of course, if they were found to be false, they faced a dire fate.” With such a stoic face, the others couldn't decide whether he was joking or not.
“Well, I'm really not one for dancing,” said Daniel, “so we might as well try the fortune teller. We'll probably just get the usual 'you will meet your true love soon, come into some money' kind of lame prediction. That's always the way it goes.”
With a shrug, the group headed off in the direction of the fortune teller's tent. As they did, they passed a small group of people, all with stunned looks on their faces. “Hmm,” mused Jack, “must be better than the usual.” By the time they got to the tent, the line had mostly cleared out. After a few minutes' wait, they were beckoned into the tent.
“Welcome,” said the fortune teller, “I am Lady Gracia, all knowing, all seeing. The charge is $10 per person. Who would like to go first?” Jack snorted to himself. This 'Lady Gracia' looked like a teenager, dressed up like some sort of gypsy. Clearly, this was an amateur carnival. He pushed Teal'c forward.
“I would like to know of my future,” said Teal'c. “How do you accomplish your predictions?”
“I am a palm reader,” she replied. “Please let me have whichever hand you use the most. That is the hand that will show your fate.” She reached out and took Teal'c's right hand. Immediately she stiffened. “You are from a faraway place,” she said in a shaky voice, “you have not seen your family in a long time. Do not worry, they are fine and you will see them again soon. There will be danger in your future, and much travel, but also many positive experiences.” She fell back with a sigh. “I am sorry, but you have a powerful aura. It took me by surprise.”
Teal'c nodded, satisfied with his prediction. The seer seemed to be a true one, however skeptical his teammates might be. The others also had their futures read, but none gave the fortune teller such a strong reaction. When they were done, they paid, and headed off towards the magic show. “That was a satisfactory experience, O'Neill. It seems that she truly has the gift of sight.”
Jack snorted. “Oh, come on! 'From a faraway place'? You have a very clear accent! Of course she's going to say you're not from around here! And for cryin' out loud, me getting a promotion?! What could they promote me to? A desk job? Not gonna happen. At least she got Daniel dead to rights, with him being fragile and prone to injuries, but she could probably tell just by looking.”
“Not to mention the fact that predicting the future is a scientific impossibility,” added Major Carter, “No one has the ability to see what will happen. If they did, they'd be out at the racetrack, not sitting in a tent. Besides, it's just for fun; no one takes this stuff seriously.”
Teal'c just sighed. While he would usually have doubted the veracity of the fortune teller, something in her eyes had convinced him that she was telling the truth.