Stability

"Bloody blue monkeys! When I get my hands on them, I'll-…"

Passing by Parker Selfridge's office, Grace Augustine reflected how the sound of the administrator expressing his frustration was like that of a crying bully. On one hand, you obtained the satisfaction that you'd put the jackass in his/her place and made a stand. On the other, the use of physical force was inevitably going to land you in detention. And while the analogy wasn't completely perfect, given how Grace hadn't actually hit Parker regardless of how much she wanted to at times, not to mention that doing so would land her in something worse than a trip to the school counsellor she found herself drawn into it. So drawn in, that she overheard the next few lines of his tirade.

"Sticks, stones…bloody savages! You'd think that they'd appreciate development, but oh no, they just have to have their faces stuck in the mud and-…"

Keep walking doctor, came the voice of the scientist's conscience. You don't have to rub in a bad day. You're above that.

Grace ignored it. Parker being pissed off was a good sign in some respects, but being pissed off inevitably meant that the aggravated individual wanted to vent his or her anger on something or someone. And given the mentions of the na'vi, Grace had a good idea as to what might happen if she didn't take the fallout here and now.

Altruism…now cracks a noble heart.

Extinguishing thoughts of Shakespeare along with her cigarette, Grace entered the administrator's office, the place as drab and bereft of personality as Luna's surface. Still, like the moon, domes existed, encapsulating life. And passing through the non-existent atmosphere, the head of the Avatar Program entered it.

"Well Parker, you seem to be a bit lively today," the scientist began, the administrator stopping his pacing immediately. "I guess all your golf is agreeing with you."

Parker snorted. "Golf? Come on doc, this planet's gravity is-…"

"Moon."

Parker blinked. "What?"

"A moon, Selfridge. Pandora is a moon. And as fun as it is to see that you're not over it, I can't help but be obliged to relay your messages to Antarctica Traffic Control as to what's wrong with your shuttle."

Grace could tell to her satisfaction that she'd broken the ice. Not of Antarctica thankfully, the continent still maintaining most of its snow and ice thanks to management that came before it was too late, but between her and Selfridge. Whatever the problem was, how peeved Parker was, he was at least willing to explain that problem to the scientist before he tried to solve it on his own and make things worse.

"Alright Grace, here's the thing…" began the administrator. "You're always going on about how we have to establish good relations with the natives, how to be good tree huggers and the like, you know what I mean?"

"Not the way I would have put it, but go on."

"Right, well, I thought it might be a good idea to extend an olive branch to a tribe residing near Site Fifty-Three. The Liona, or something like that. Thought it might be a good idea to explain that we intended to establish some roads from Hell's Gate to their village for unobtanium transport and, if they wanted, trade."

Grace smiled. She could tell where this was going. "And?" the scientist asked shrewdly. "What happened next?"

Parker sighed. "Next thing I know I've got half a dozen miners in sick bay with bruises from sticks and stones, not to mention the knowledge that if the aliens had used their bows, none of them would be alive. Not exactly my best day…"

Grace's smile disappeared. "Parker, conversing with the na'vi is my job. If you'd let me-…"

The administrator sighed, looking more sincere than Grace could remember him ever being. "I know that doc. But the monkeys have to understand we're here to stay. So they have to get used to seeing actual humans rather than your puppets."

The 'puppet master' blinked. For once, Parker had made a good point, or at least one besides stating that "Major Cage was a psycho and it's good that Conrad is in command now." In her professional opinion she would have said that interactions between Avatars and na'vi was the best modus operandi for both the People and RDA, ranging from establishing common ground to saving lives, but as much as she loved being a three meter tall humanoid, certainly interactions between normal humans and na'vi was a worthwhile goal.

Maybe he'll finally give me clearance for the school, Grace thought to herself, beginning to see this meeting as an opportunity. Maybe he'll put two and two together…

It was a distinct possibility. Taking a seat at his desk and idly spinning his unobtanium paperweight, Selfridge seemed to be open to suggestion. And a few seconds later, he confirmed it.

"Doctor Augustine, I'll be frank, this isn't good," the administrator began. "I don't need to remind you that stability is in our best interests."

"You don't," murmured the scientists. "Which is why building roads isn't the best idea."

"And that's your opinion?" Parker asked. "I hope it is rather than some undisputable fact, because the powers that be have declared that roads are required for transport of unobtanium from sites other than the one by Hell's Gate are the most economically viable option. And besides, roads will let the natives know where we are, when we travel and the knowledge that it's best to keep off them. Not that they can read stop signs of course, but-…"

"And they don't want to."

Parker blinked, as if unable to comprehend that someone, regardless of species, would disagree with Company logic. For Grace however, at least at this point in time, it was a good sign. On a moon 4.37 light years from Earth, a very different logic was required than that applied to the worlds of the Solar System. And if Parker didn't have one, she was free to provide her own.

"Selfridge, we're on a jungle moon. A jungle with even higher biodiversity than in what used to be the jungles and rainforests of Earth. You can't bring stability into that. No ecosystem is static. An ecosystem is always changing and the only way to stop that change is to destroy it. Roads, railways…they can't change with nature. The na'vi understand this. All that remains is for us to understand it too."

Parker snorted, his usual cocky self emerging from the depths of his previous frustration. "Nice rhetoric doc. I bet you deliver it to interns as soon as they walk into your lab."

"No, what I tell interns is that they should learn fast or be prepared to spend another five years in cryo in the near future," Grace retorted. "And while I can't really say that to you, I can say that your roads plan sucks and will lead to more violence, even deaths. So, you can either transport unobtanium by air or get prepared for hell to come through this base's gate from the outside. Because as part of this planet's ecosystem, the na'vi can change. And if that change calls for weapons more effective than sticks and stones, then they'll go with it."

And there it was. The moment of truth. The moment where either things went to hell, purgatory or…well, not exactly heaven, but somewhere close at least. If things were going to get better on Pandora, it was fair to say that it would be a stairway rather than a shaft of light with banshees sprouting feathery wings and harps. Or flutes, whatever.

"Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me…"Parker murmured eventually, seemingly talking to himself rather than the scientist in front of him.

Grace raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I said that I'll let you make preparations for your school," said the administrator, making it clear that the compromise was over. "Do what it takes to get the tree huggers to either stay out of our way, or swear that they won't start hugging the bloody clouds when it comes to aerial transport. And if they don't want roads, find me something that they do want and dangle it in front of them."

Grace chose her words carefully, unable to classify this as a positive or negative reaction. "Parker, I don't think we have anything they want. All they want, I think, is for use to treat them with respect."

"Fine, then do that. Because I only have so many olives Grace. And if I'm left with a stick when they're all gone, I'll have to use it."

That, Grace didn't doubt.

And exiting from the room, the Avatar driver swore to ensure that that day remained as far away as possible.

A/N

It isn't uncommon for story ideas to pop into my head during lectures, though this oneshot actually stemmed directly from lecture material, specifically from one on the concept of deep ecology, the fluid nature of ecosystems being mentioned. And although Pandoran flora and fauna seems to have taken the opposite evolutionary path from Earth's organisms, still provides an opportunity for rants between two characters that are made for them. :)