Dedicated (again) to Lee. It's all your fault.  : P
   That's what happens when I receive a late phone call from you asking
me to somehow contribute to your 'Sympathetic Alliance for Dr. Zee'
while at the same time I think of how to organize sponsors for my band
of 'Questor's Friends and Supporters' and the next morn when I'm only
half awake I get 'em weird ideas... a nutty G:80 and QT crossover. Oh
boy. Nonsense alert! Run for cover!  : )

   Just imagine our two heroes being old, battered and bruised,
disposed of and forgotten by their former proteges, now uselessly and
grumpily hanging around in some place and yammering away... Watch these

                Two Old Guys Yakkin'
                by Gisela Roemer

   In an old people's home two men were sitting together in a room,
engrossed in a conversation while idly keeping their rockers in motion.
   One of them was a rather small, slender man with white-blond hair
and a skin so pale it almost appeared transparent. The clothes of white
he wore even intensified this effect. He looked tired, tired of age and
endless quarrels.
   The other one was average-sized and a fair-complexioned, handsome
man. Somehow. His originally brown hair was gray now, his whole
appearance had been worked on to seem naturally aged, and he looked
distinguished -- as long as one preferred to ignore the parts where his
true nature had begun to shine through.
   The first man had once been the boy genius of the Galacticans, their
savior on their search for Earth. The second, a no longer oh so
cleverly disguised android, had once been Earth's hope for survival.
   Now that they both were no longer of use for their proteges they had
been put on retirement.

   "You know what, Zee? All was fine here until you guys showed up."
   "Ah yes? Our life was fine as well -- before we discovered yer
folks."
   "I couldn't believe it. An old gramps and a kid guiding a whole
population."
   "So what? Better'n a machine tryin' to teach humans to get along
with one another."
   "Wanna be slapped in the face?"
   "Dontcha dare."
   A brooding silence set in.

   "Sorry, man. Didn't mean it." Questor looked at him.
   "Okay, buddo. No offense taken nor meant."
   "Peace, brother?"
   "Peace, friend."
   They shook hands.

   "You know, as it was with my people the only way to prevent them
from messin' up was me gettin' involved in their stupid games of
politics."
   "I know quite well."
   "They were no cubit better'n yer folks. Really amazin' we traveled
so far only to join with folks sufferin' from exactly the same
problem."
   "Somewhat, yes. But understandable."
   "Yeah. All the old fools you got here. Rattlin' with their nukes and
ready to drop 'em on the head of everyone who was likely to offend 'em.
What an ineffective way to govern a world."
   "Can't agree more. And, between you and me and the chestnut tree, I
often felt very inclined to just let them have their will, to let them
wipe out themselves. There were times when I thought the universe might
be better off without them. Too bad I couldn't let that happen."
   "Uh-huh, same feelings over here. Would've liked to step in
sometimes and knock heads, beat some reason into 'em."
   "You sure that would've helped?"
   "Not really. Them stupid daggit meatballs."
   "Them bubbling proto-life forms."
   Their gazes met, clearly surprised at how they had flown into a rage
over their proteges, and after a few minutes, having studied the
opposite's disgusted face, both couldn't help but giggle madly.
   "Sometimes I wonder what might've happened without the intervention
of the higher benevolent beings."
   "Me, too. Sometimes I seriously doubted our masters' wisdom in
having decided to aid this of all species. It's so intent on its own
destruction. They would've never made it alone."
   "Couldn't agree more. After all those yarens flyin' around in space,
losin' more and more hope durin' the everyday routine and the
ever-recurrin' old tenure of once findin' Earth and our long-lost
brothers 'n' sisters -- they drove me mad. I almost barfed onto Adama's
feet."
   "Same here. Could've beaten up on Jerry sometimes as well. Humans.
Oh boy. And part of them didn't even want to be helped."
   "Why does that sound so familiar?" Zee sighed. "There were days when
I seriously had to fear for my life. They're beasts."
   Questor nodded. "They sure are. Don't think I hadn't had my share of
this as well. Oh, I vividly remember those days they tried so very hard
to wipe me off Earth's face, thus hoping to extinguish any traces of
having ever been helped."
   "This must be some kinda natural law, the helpees always wishin' to
get rid of the helpers."
   "I'd think so, yeah. You know, they don't like to feel inferior,
having to admit there are beings even more sophisticated than them. It
scratches on their egos."
   "Hum. Right. That's it. So it's no wonder they get rid of their once
so cherished heroes as soon as possible. They considered us old and
worn-out. Ha!"
   "Double ha! I'd wish we could pay them back. Somehow."
   A sly smile appeared on Zee's face. "But we could."
   It took Questor only a second's fraction to get it. "You really
convinced?"
   "Yup. We're not yet all used-up and outta power. There's still time
to recharge somewhat and start anew."
   "Do you think what I'm thinking?" Questor asked, now smiling as
well.
   "Have some fun with a buncha chicks?"
   "Get real, pal."
   "Just kiddin'. Okay, seriously now."
   "Exactly, old buddy."
   "Well then, let's show 'em."
   The two old guys halted their rocking chairs and fastened their
seat-belts. Each pushed a button on his armrest upon which the building
started to tremble as machines roared into life. The brick walls
cracked and fell down and released what was hidden beneath. Smooth
metal walls, halfway liquid at first, quickly solidified around what
once had appeared to be a small house, thus making the container
suitable for space conditions.

   With a deafening thunder the mighty engines started and lifted the
craft. Only shortly afterwards they broke free of Earth's gravitational
pull.
   "Wanna wave good-bye, Ques?"
   "To those ungrateful suckers? Be serious."
   "Only jokin', old friend."
   "Never mind. So where do you wanna go now?"
   Zee indicated a random direction. "Quite unimportant. Anywhere's
better'n here. D'ya have any preferences?"
   "Nope." Questor returned the smile. "Okay then. Thataway."

Hannover, FRG
4 April 1999