He had a lot to think about after everything that had happened that day. His mind was full of snapshots, scattered moments playing themselves out on infinite repeat: his father demanding he pick a side; Zarek's expression as Lee held a gun to his head; Cally with blood on her face and stomach; President Roslin smiling and then telling him she was dying of cancer.
The last was, perhaps, the worst. Everything else had worked out; his father didn't seem too angry, Zarek was under control for now, and Cally was going to be fine, but Laura Roslin wouldn't be. It had been one last shock on top of everything else, and he'd never seen it coming.
Since he'd first met her, she'd seemed so strong. He hadn't minded following her orders because she was clearly intelligent and capable of making the difficult decisions that needed to be made. She wasn't superhuman—he'd seen her sadness at learning of the deaths of her friends and colleagues and heard her voice break as she was sworn into office—but he'd thought her...dependable. They were always in danger, all of them and especially the pilots, but he'd figured that if things got bad enough for the president to be killed he would have already died defending her.
He'd resigned himself to never knowing whether he would live out the day, but that was different from the grim certainty of death facing her. She'd said she would fight it, but what did old Dr. Cottle know about treating cancer that had advanced far enough to leave her less than seven months to live? It didn't seem right that she should have survived a holocaust only to fall victim to her own body, but it seemed likely that that would happen.
He thought of her, fading away in body and mind, and then in the memory of those left behind. It was the last, the idea of her being consigned to oblivion by the people she was trying so hard to save that hurt worst of all.
I won't forget, he promised, but somehow it didn't help.