Part 44
(Caprica)
Colonial Battlestar Galactica
Tigh family private quarters
+29:01:56
Alexandru finished nursing and offered me no complaint as I settled him back on the bed. Cribs were in short supply, even for senior officers, and so Saul and I had improvised a low barrier for his rack to keep our son from rolling himself off the mattress and onto the floor. It was a frequent worry of mine we were coddling him too much, treating him too delicately, but what did I know of infants? Hera had refused so much of the care I and my sisters had offered her, and none of the Farms had ever borne fruit.
I hadn't objected to Saul's 'request' I relocate to Galactica a monen ago. Then again, how could I have when we were being escorted to the flight deck by a brace of Marines – who were helpfully carrying our already-packed bags – and Saul himself had all but barricaded himself in the CIC?
The Admiral had met us upon landing and escorted us directly to Saul's old cabin. He'd even made a point of visiting his godson every other day, routinely asking abut Alex and making sure we didn't need for much. I'd made a point of not abusing this hospitality, and didn't offer the smallest complaint or objection to the variety of duties he saw fit to assign me. I fetched reports, repaired consoles, assisted in Dogsville, even cleaned waste pipes on occasion -- at least on the rare days the President didn't want to speak with me about any old thing.
It was strange; I was instrumental in the destruction of human civilization as we knew it. Yet the appointed leader of what was left of humanity, as we had known it anyway, shared confidences with me that by any rational measure I had no right to and should never have heard. She asked after Alex as often as the Admiral, frequently requested I bring him along with me and asked if she could hold him.
On this point I was significantly less agreeable. Alexandru was precious beyond words. Did I dare risk him with someone who had tea with her long-dead press aide? Roslin hadn't taken offense at my refusal thus far. If anything, she usually appeared relieved at my caution and didn't push the issue.
My days were spent either discussing our divergent philosophies, re-examining the failures and errors our two peoples had suffered through, gossiping, even laughing on occasion. In those moments, I nearly forgot how close to the edge of the abyss we all were.
Now that our exodus was nearing its end, I felt even less secure, lessat peace than when I first defected with Athena. What would become of Alexandru and me in this new world? Where would we fit, given that Saul had managed to lose himself somewhere aboard Nemesisand I could never escape the suspicion that Roslin and Adama were simply setting me up for a trip out the airlock. If I had trustworthy assurances of Alex's safety, I'd willing walk out one, but beyond Saul and perhaps Athena, I dared not trust anyone.
Therefore, I lingered here, constantly in fear of my child's life and jumping every time someone knocked on the cabin door --
Which was exactly what happened at that moment. I threw a quick look to make sure Alex was still asleep – the child's sleeping patterns were as unpredictable as his father's moods – relieved to see him only stir a bit but otherwise stay quiet. Taking a fortifying breath, I moved to crack open the hatch, expecting bad news in the form of Marine guards coming to fetch me away.
Laura Roslin stood there, looking as nervous I felt. She didn't move or say anything, instead waited patiently for me to open the hatch more fully. It took me a few extra beats to clue into this, ultimately opening the door wide and asking, "Madam President?"
Roslin nodded. "Hello. May I, um, come in?"
I glanced around her, noting there were only a couple of guards in evidence. This was a bit of surprise as the Admiral had been expansive in the measures he'd taken with her security. He'd rarely allowed the President out of his cabin without himself and a complement of guards in full combat kit present. For her to be standing there with minimal security could have meant several things, not the least of which was I'd been misreading the woman all this time.
Trust had to start somewhere, I suppose, and it behooved me to make the first move. I gave her a short nod of agreement and stepped aside to allow her past the threshold. She nodded to the guards, a silent order for them to remain outside, then entered my home. I made a point not to shut the hatch completely, just to reassure the unsmiling men with guns on the other side.
Laura gravitated immediately to gaze at Alex, who didn't so much as stir under her gaze. "He's beautiful," she breathed quietly, so much so I had to strain a bit to hear it.
"He is," I agreed after a moment. Laura took a final look at the toddler, then turned to face me directly.
"I need you insight on – something," she said, keeping her voice low.
"Of course. Why don't we sit down?" I offered a chair by the little-used desk, then pulled one from the nearby wall for myself. "I'd offer you something to drink but -- well, Saul's been dry for awhile now --"
"That's alright," Laura nodded, settling herself in the chair and waiting until I had done likewise. "I'm having trouble keeping anything down except Elosha's tea -- sorry. I know how that sounds." She gave a small laugh. "I know everyone thinks I'm going mad, seeing Billy and Elosha every day --"
"I --" The first answer that came to mind was stopped quickly when I saw Gaius standing near the door, looking as well groomed and confident as that last morning along the Riverwalk in Caprica City. It had been over a year since he'd last appeared to me and I'd forgotten how unnerving his presence was, a secret visitor I had never revealed to anyone. It was all I could do not to stare at him.
Thankfully, the phantom neither said anything nor moved beyond an upraised eyebrow. I took this as a well-intentioned warning and thought up a completely different response to the President's words.
"I'm not one to judge, Laura." This came out a little more forcefully than I'd intended, leading me to wince in anticipation of something equally-sharp coming from the President. However, no such retaliation came; apparently, Laura was too distracted by her own thoughts to have noticed.
A quick look at the door confirmed Gaius was no longer in evidence. Despite not having appeared since leading me to the traumatized Boomer's hiding place aboard Nemesis, I made no assumptions that he – whatever he was – was wholly gone. Apollo's wild claims of seeing Starbuck, I suspected more than once, only reinforced this certainty.
Did Gaius's sudden reappearance herald something of significance? Was Laura in some imminent danger? Was Alexandru? I shook my head clear of such fast-spiraling thoughts and refocused on the older woman sitting before me. "Laura?" I ventured, even more worried for her now.
"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "My head's been all over the map since -- well --"
"Because of Starbuck?" It was a massive chance I took in uttering the name. There was every chance the Admiral hadn't told her of Thrace's presence aboard the Olympus. Going by how she sighed, it wasn't really a surprise. "What can I do?"
"I'm going aboard the Olympus in two hours time. My only contact with the Terrans has been Secretary Richards and Commodore Avery-Hunter. You've seen more of them." She looked at me directly and leaned forward. "What can I expect?"
It wasn't an unexpected query, or at least shouldn't have been. I nevertheless had to buy time to get my thoughts together. "Expect from them -- in general, or from anyone specifically?"
"Who else is there?"
"Um," I hummed. "They have an Admiral aboard, one of their senior-most officers, name of Theodore Rice."
"Okay, we'll start there. What's he like?"
My model was designed, purpose-built for seduction and intelligence gathering. We specialize in learning what is hidden, whether through subtle observation or more involved methods.
Perhaps it had been too long since I'd needed to engage in such activity, at least consciously, for the myriad details that Laura teased out of me were both voluminous -- and ones I had been completely unaware I knew.
Admiral Rice, for example, was a man who was fighting some manner of addiction. I had noticed how frequently he would refill his mug with their too-rich coffee, yet would eat so little in comparison, sucking down that powerful brew was if it were his mother's milk. His movements were so controlled yet his reflexes were jerky and sharp, telling me he constantly fought some inner turmoil that was forever bubbling near the surface. That he kept Starbuck in clear sight at all times suggested to me she was somehow involved there. It was a different energy than what crackled between Secretary Richards and Starbuck, one less fierce but no less strong.
Yet for all that, he was clearly a competent man, at ease with his position and his authority, yet careful not to overstep himself. I imagined he was what William Adama would have been had the worlds not ended so abruptly. He consistently deferred to civilian authority, which in itself told me a good bit about the structure and stability of the organization he served.
Then there was Lieutenant Commander Callisto. Despite her junior-sounding rank and apparent youth, she carried herself with the firm discipline that reminded me of temple matrons. Her equally smooth speech was so rarely tinged with emotion that I concluded she was of a military family; but hers was one where the virtues of service were emphasized, and the child's decisions were made not in rebellion, as Lee Adama's had been, but to honor those virtues.
More interesting to me was that she was knowledgeable, considerably more so than she let on, but held her tongue unless asked a question directly. This was demonstrated by the many subtle and well-hidden flinches at the more technical aspects our briefing had touched upon. There were easily a dozen points where she had looked ready to correct her superiors, yet she'd remained silent. Her respect for the chain of command was clearly strong; I suspected she would break it with sufficient cause, but what constituted such a cause I could only guess.
More generally, the Terrans were clearly superior engineers, capable of adapting and building upon pre-existing materials. The Olympus alone was a demonstration of that, given the numerous subtle differences between the design and layout between the bodies of the Terran battlestar compared to the flight pods. Callisto's statement the that the flight pods themselves had once been vessels for the seas and not space, ridiculous on its face, now struck as credible and even outright genius.
That they had organized and built all this, spread themselves out beyond their own planet so quickly after nearly being wiped out by that pandemic they skirted speaking of, made my own people's development seem like we had been sleepwalking all this time. We had been careful not to press too hard for too many details during our own time aboard their ship. We were fearful of giving offense or bringing up questions we weren't equipped to answer, that we had only the barest knowledge of what other creations the Terrans had flying about.
I had no doubt they would prove -- surprising.
I was careful to outline these insights without resorting to precise descriptions. It was easy to lose oneself trying to visualize such descriptions, which would have only hindered her preparations. D'Iblis was in the details and I had no desire to burden Laura more than she already was.
Laura had kept quiet through it all, speaking only to prompt my mind to offer up what it held without my knowing it. She was never demanding or impatient as I worked my way through all these realizations; it was almost frightening, this calm and patience she displayed.
At length I'd finished, feeling wrung out as a washcloth. As Laura stood to leave, a question came to mind, one I should have demanded an answer to from the start. "Laura?"
The President paused and turned. "Yes?"
"What about -- what will happen to --" I was stumped for several seconds, uncertain if I was asking on behalf of Alexandru, or myself.
Worn and ready to collapse as she might have been, President Roslin had lost none of her perceptive nature. "You and Alex will join us all on Earth. We owe you too much --" She shook her head quickly. "Besides, do you think Bill would let me leave you two behind? He'd never forgive me."
"Thank you," I breathed, wanting to believe her so desperately.
Laura smiled and reached over to squeeze my shoulder. "Don't worry so much. Alex needs a healthy mother."
"Very true," I nodded again, giving her a smile of my own. "Let me know if you want me along."
"No, no. You and Alex are staying aboard Galactica until Commander Tigh resurfaces."
Bad enough Saul hadn't alerted us immediately of what he'd found here, but to have just vanished like this before we'd jumped into this system, and stayed vanished? "There's still no sign of him?"
"Unfortunately, no." Laura frowned. "Bill is starting to get worried about him."
"He's not the only one."
"I'm sure. Get some rest, Caprica. The Admiral promised he'd looking in on you in a little bit."
"Thank you. Safe journey, Madam President."
Laura gave a final nod and left the cabin. I made sure the hatch locked behind her, then returned to my chair, moving it closer to the bunk where my son slumbered so peacefully, so innocently. Gazing on him, I again sought to convince myself of the President's assurances for our future.
I believed her, even as I entertained a sliver of doubt about it all. How these two things could reside in my mind was a mystery, one I would ponder for the remainder of my life.
TBC...
De author seez: What? You guys didn't think I'd forgotten about this one, did you? Heck, naw! There's still lots of action to come...maybe. If the characters consent to talk to me again. Someday. Perhaps. Hopefully.
Hope you enjoyed the threefer (short as they were). Please feedback the author!
