She sat on the examination table wearing the gown although she insisted she didn't need one. The medic Ishay gave her a look that said she'd do well to obey Dr. Cottle's orders. They'd just have to see about that.
An old man entered the exam room. "Now, what do you want?"
He had a gruff tone and a cigarette in his hand. She fought the urge to laugh. Bill really hadn't been kidding. What if she were really sick? She inwardly shuddered at the thought. "Do you mind?" she said, indicating the cigarette.
"Yes I do, actually. The Commander insisted I take good care of you-"
"He did, huh?"
"I don't see that you'll need it, young lady. You look like you'll outlive us all."
She smiled. Dr. Davis had said a similar thing about her and her mother. "Well, we'll see what the cylons have to say about that."
He grunted. "Those machines have nothing on the Old Man, and he has it in his fool head to protect you..."
"He's protecting all of us."
"If you say so."
"I do. I also give the orders around here."
"Yes, sir." He looked at her chart. "Well, you're perfectly healthy. But you knew that already. Young lady, I've never seen a chart like this before, and believe me, I've seen everything. Have you considered donating blood?"
She nodded. "My mother and I used to go together every year. It was a tradition. I'd be happy to do it again."
He nodded. "We'll set something up with Ishay." He puffed his cigarette. "So allergies. We don't have much out here. And you'll need the non-drowsy stuff."
She smiled. "Yes, that would be ideal for my situation." She shrugged. "Although that never worked as well."
"I'll check around. See what we have."
"Thank you. Also, sometimes, I used chamalla extract."
He raised an eyebrow. "There's no indication that it helps at all, and there are so many side effects."
She nodded. "It seemed to work well for me when I took it. The headaches and congestion went away."
"And in their place, crazy hippie visions. That won't do."
"All the same, it may be an option."
He grunted. "Fine. I'll check around for that too. Who knows? There may be an oracle wannabe in the fleet."
She giggled, picturing the doctor's conversation with a so-called mystic.
"You can get dressed now. I need this room for people who are actually sick."
She rolled her eyes. "Just be grateful I'm not one of them."
He nodded. "I am."
Whether that was because he wouldn't have to put up with her much or for genuine reasons she didn't know. They'd certainly made quite an impression on each other. He left the room, and she got dressed.
She requested a meeting with the Commander. The good doctor had some interesting ideas about them. It was time to find out why.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::
Her meeting with the Commander left her more confused than before. They talked about Dr. Cottle, Dark Day, and the latest fleet crisis. But whenever they got a little personal, he changed the subject back to the fleet. Of course, she did the same thing. That was how she always handled her acquaintances, but for the first time she kind of wanted to push things further, maybe break her barriers down.
In the meantime, Dr. Cottle found her chamalla. Just in time too. Her headaches had become awful.
She dissolved it in her tea, and drank it before bed. She lay on her cot with iDark Day/i in her hands. Before long, her eyes were closing, so she closed the book and placed it on her table.
She slept deeply, at first. Chamalla had always worked wonders on her insomnia. When she had had trouble sleeping during grad school she had consulted with Dr. Davis. He suggested that something like chamalla, although it had questionable properties, might be perfect for her. It wasn't addictive, and aside from the vivid dreams, had few side effects. It was better than those other sleeping medications, he had said. "Besides, Laura, you're so healthy. You really don't want to start taking medications."
She had taken his advice and started a chamalla regimen. She had gotten through grad school much better after that and had nights of wonderful deep R.E.M sleep.
Now it would help her with both her allergy symptoms and her sleep.
She slept, and there was nothing. Her typically loud and hyperactive mind was finally quiet. Then there were trees, a forest. She was walking in her nightgown, not the one she was wearing to bed, but one she'd left at home-it was one of those details that told her it was a dream, but she was too tired to bother waking up. The soldiers were after her(?) Why? Then there was that cylon. The Leoben model who'd attacked Bill. He beckoned for her, and she felt safer going to him, away from the soldiers. He grabbed her and held her against a tree. But she didn't feel unsafe even then. He said "Laura, I have something to tell you." But then he blew away. Like a giant gust of wind pulled him.
Then she woke up.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
They'd found a Leoben model stowed away in the Gemenon Traveler. It was good to know the people were being diligent in the aftermath of her press conference.
She got on the phone with Commander Adama. He sounded like he was wide awake already. How early did the man wake up? "Good morning, Commander. I take it you've heard-"
"About the Leoben model? Yeah, Colonel Tigh just filled me in."
"I know you've faced this model before, but I would like this cylon questioned."
She thought back to her dream. Although she doubted it, there could be a slight chance of peace between their peoples. At the very least, she could gain information from it. According to Bill, the one he'd killed fancied himself as a philosopher. A battle of wills was possible.
"This model is dangerous, Madame President. It blends truth with lies, gets inside people's heads."
"Then send someone with a strong mind."
He grunted. "I know just the one."
"Good. Keep me updated."
"Yes, sir."
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
In the end, she airlocked the Leoben model because it was dangerous, and that's what you do with dangerous things: throw them out, get rid of them. He wasted their entire day making them search for the nonexistent bomb within the fleet. He brought out the worst in Lieutenant Thrace, and worst of all, he told Laura that Adama was a cylon.
She sat at her desk contemplating those words. Earlier, when she'd debriefed with Commander Adama, she told him nothing was wrong, but that wasn't true. Everything was wrong.
Leoben didn't specify which Adama. That could mean it was Bill or Lee - Captain Apollo. She shook her head. It could even mean Zak, she supposed, or Bill's ex-wife. There's nothing to say that the former Mrs. Adama was actually dead. She was just presumed dead, along with everyone else on Caprica. If she were in fact a cylon, then she could still be alive and possibly stowed away in the fleet somewhere. The same was true of Zak. Perhaps the dead son was simply one model, and there were other models just waiting to strike. Or it could be a complete lie, which was the most likely conclusion, but she couldn't count on that. Not when she'd placed so much faith in Bill and his son. They needed that godsdamned detector. In the meantime, she'd keep an eye on both of them.
Billy entered the room. Her young bedtime enforcer. She smiled at him. "Coming to yell at me for staying up?"
He yawned. "No, ma'am. I just...I think you should get some sleep."
"I think so too, Billy. Thank you."
"Something's troubling you. Can I help?"
"How can you tell?"
"You've been different ever since you met that cylon."
She smirked. "How do you know it's not just stress from killing it?"
"I don't know. I just sense it's more than that."
He was so perceptive. He knew nothing about women, but he could read her so easily. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll talk about it."
She'd changed for bed earlier when she returned from Galactica, so she sat on her cot, and patted the spot next to her for Billy. He sat very awkwardly, like he was sitting on his mother's bed. She smiled. Billy was exactly the kind of son she'd have wanted if she'd had children. "The Leoben model told me something disturbing." She held up her hands before he could say anything. "Now, I'm ninety-five percent sure it was lying. In many ways, what it says makes no sense, but there's that-"
"Five percent chance it's right. And you gotta be sure."
She nodded. "Exactly." She sighed. "It said Adama was a Cylon."
"Which one?"
"Didn't say."
"Hmm. What would that mean, exactly? I mean, are there a bunch of Bill Adamas or Lee Adamas running around in the fleet? Surely, such high profile people would have been noticed."
"Maybe they're not in the fleet, but on basestars transmitting the information the one in the fleet sends them."
He nodded. "Having an agent in the upper echelon would make sense."
"Yeah."
"You're not a cylon, are you, Madame President?"
She smiled. Only Billy could ask a question like that and be so sweet about it. "No, I'm most assuredly human." She smirked. "What about you, are you human?"
He nodded. "I am, ma'am."
"Good. Now, why don't you get out of here so I can sleep." She gave him a hard stare. "Someone scheduled me an early appointment."
He shrugged. "Sorry."
He rose from the cot and exited her quarters after a quick good night. She shook her head. If that boy was a cylon, she was really in trouble. She lay down on the cot and fell asleep wondering if cylons dreamed.
