Chapter 3
Laura Roslin finally lifted her head from the basin and put it back against the pillow. She wasn't in her quarters, as she had intended to be, but in the infirmary. When she had finally passed out from the constant vomiting, Billy had called for help and she had awoken with an IV in one arm and a very annoyed Doctor Salik looking down at her.
"Dehydration is as dangerous as this cancer," he had said without preamble. "And the death is decidedly quicker. If you can't be trusted to pay attention to your own body's signals, I will admit you to Life Station and to hell with all this damn secrecy. Are we clear?"
President Roslin didn't see the humor in her being ordered by a Captain - doctor or not, nor the irony in his decision to violate the Commander's orders. What she saw was the man who was doing his best to keep her alive, and that she had let him down. She had let them all down. "Yes, Sir," she told him in a croaky voice that was weak from her throat's constant abuse.
The doctor took a deep breath while he considered her. "Half of the nausea is from the dehydration," he explained in a more sympathetic manner. "And of course the imbalance of electrolytes and low blood sugar. How long has it been since you kept anything down?"
"I don't know," she said vaguely. It was the truth. She couldn't remember the last meal that hadn't made a return visit.
He nodded. "I'm starting you on intravenous nutrition," he explained. "It will bypass the digestive tract and go directly to your blood. It should get your strength back in short order. It may not stop the vomiting, but it will prevent you losing the fuel your body will need to get well."
"Thank you," she said simply.
"It's not a solution," he clarified. "It will destroy your kidneys in a matter of weeks. But it's all we have until we get you through the next two sessions of chemo. The problem is that I'll have to get it in you on a regular basis, and that will require your presence here or a tech in your quarters. Which would you prefer?"
"Why can't I do it myself?"
"Because you aren't qualified," he told her. "We're talking about introducing high-powered nutritional concentrate directly into your blood. The potentials for contamination or infection are very high. That's why I don't normally offer this as an option. Your body isn't giving me any choice. You refuse to slow down, lay down, or rest. If you can't give your body what it needs to heal, then I have to start pitting body systems against one another to do it for you. I don't appreciate this choice, but if I have to make it I'll damn well do it right. So, here or a private tech?"
"The tech," she allowed. "I'm sorry I'm such a lousy patient."
He didn't reply to that. She couldn't blame him. Her illness had kept him hopping since she'd let him know about it two weeks following the destruction of the colonies. She hadn't wanted to do it, especially since at the time they hadn't had any of the resources necessary to treat it, but the doctor on Caprica had been adamant that she receive immediate treatment before the cancer progressed any further through her body. If she was going to lead what was left of the population, even long enough for someone more qualified to be elected, she would have to do her best to stay alive for the job.
She was beginning to wish that she had simply decided to die. It would have been easier. Self-pity wasn't something she enjoyed, so she cut that thought off before it really formed. She didn't like being sick, but she liked whining even less.
So instead she cleared her mind and tried to rest without much success. The IV in her hand stung, and she absently wondered why they hadn't just used the line in her chest as they did for the chemo. She also wondered whether Billy would bother to bring her work down to her, and decided that likely he wouldn't. For such a young man, he was awfully protective. Knowing he had gone through something similar with his mother certainly explained a lot.
She was so busy trying to rest that she didn't bother with listening to what was going on around her. Her own mind was filled with miscellaneous thoughts that had no relevance, and no string of thought seemed to go anywhere. She was actually relieved when a soft voice broke through her attempts to take a nap.
"How are you feeling?"
She smiled in spite of herself. Her greatest rival; and her biggest supporter. She didn't know what to do with the man. She had disliked him on sight, and had quickly learned to respect him even before she fully understood. He was a good man. She supposed that was the bottom line. "Better, Commander," she replied without opening her eyes.
"I was a little surprised to hear that you'd come down here. I thought it must be bad."
She heard him shifting through the room and finally opened her eyes to see him standing near the foot of the bed she was on. "It wasn't voluntary," she admitted. "Billy sent for the medics, and I was in no condition to argue."
"At least you admit it," he allowed. "What can I do?"
She sighed. "Nothing. It's just a combination of dehydration and lack of food. The doctor is taking care of it."
He looked down on her for a moment, then shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think it's that easy. You're going to have to slow down."
"How do you propose I do that?" she asked softly. "Announce to the populace that I have cancer and need a few weeks off for intensive therapy?"
"Maybe just announcing that you've taken ill, and will be reducing your responsibilities until you recover," he suggested.
"I have a job to do," she said softly. "I didn't ask for it, but neither can I back away from it. I took an oath."
"So did I," he told her gently. "But that oath doesn't mean anything if I work myself into a grave. I have a responsibility to keep myself healthy and ready for duty. You have that same responsibility. You need to slow yourself down."
"Lords, I hate it when you're right," she admitted with a slight smile.
"I try not to let it happen often," he told her with a wink. "As far as I'm concerned, you have the most recent virus that's tackling our crew, and you'll be resting for a few days. That's all anyone needs to know."
"Thank you," she responded simply. It was the least she could say, but he didn't seem to mind. He nodded his acceptance, then took a seat in the chair near the door.
"I just wish all our problems were that easy to solve," he muttered. "Do you mind if I hide out here for a few minutes?"
"I can't see you hiding from anything."
He smiled again, but then it faded. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't want to bother her. It was the same expression she saw on Billy's face at least twice a day. "Go ahead," she said softly. "I promise not to get out of this bed to do anything about it."
He looked at her for a moment more, then sighed. "I've had to dispatch security forces to a number of ships," he admitted. "Rumors are spreading that there are fuel and food shortages, and attacks have begun on select populations. It bothers me that people would turn against each other when we need one another to survive."
She nodded her understanding. "We've discussed this," she reminded him. "We knew there would be those who took their own survival more seriously than others'."
"I know. But I never thought I'd have to send security in to protect our weakest," he said softly. "There have been attacks on the Minestra and the Lenna Dell both. Patients, mostly. Those who are old and weak, and who some feel are unworthy to live. It's infuriating."
"The Lenna Dell?" she asked anxiously.
He nodded. "There have been a few injuries there, but no deaths. When several of their elderly patients fell ill, they began tests to find out if we had a new virus on our hands. It turned out to be poison. The kitchen staff has been questioned extensively, but so far there are no leads. That's why I have security placed there now. My men may not be perfect, but they are honest. If they see anything going on, they'll let me know."
"Do you know what sections are affected?" she asked softly.
"The long-term care units, so far," he admitted. "But we've had the same thing happening on the Minestra in a ward of disabled patients. Many lost everything with the war, including parts of their bodies, and now someone wants to take their lives. It's as bad as what the Cylons were doing, only worse. It's selective genocide."
"Any deaths there?"
He had that look of uncertainty again. He didn't answer.
"You know I'll find out," she reminded him.
"Six," he admitted. "Four by poisoning, and two by suffocation. It's deliberate murder, and it's directed at those who can't protect themselves."
She shook her head in a combination of frustration and anger. These were her people, as much as they were the Commander's, and it felt as though she were being personally attacked. "We need to be increasing our population," she ground out. "Not destroying it."
He nodded. She knew they felt the same way about it. They shouldn't be attacking one another; they should be having children.
Children.
"The Lenna Dell," she said with urgency. "Those that were poisoned, were they adults or children."
"Adults, I believe. Why?"
She closed her eyes in a measure of relief, but her urgency wasn't abated. "I need to see Captain Apollo," she told him anxiously. "Immediately."
Adama stood quickly. "What's the matter? Are you ill?"
She shook her head. "There's a child," she explained. "She is disabled, and on the Lenna Dell. I want her removed until we find out what's happening. She doesn't have any family; only the medical staff looking after her. We need to move her someplace safe."
"Why isn't she on the Kastyline? She would be safe there."
Laura shook her head so adamantly that she made herself dizzy and had to pause. "I know children," she finally said. "They are cruel to anyone different. Katee's disability is obvious, and she's too gentle to fight back. It would be like sending a puppy into a pack of wolves."
"Why Lee?" he asked.
"He was there," she told him. "He's seen her. He knows who she is. He can take Billy with him. She likes Billy, and I know she'll come with him." When he didn't reply, she added another word almost desperately. "Please."
She isn't likely to be in any immediate danger there," he said softly. "And a warship is no place for a child."
"There are children aboard the Galactica," she argued. "And I'm not talking about something permanent. Just bring her here until we catch whoever is doing this. If you don't, I'll do my best to do it myself, and to hell with my supposed 'illness'."
"Who will care for her?"
"Billy," she improvised. "She likes him."
"Billy has duties of his own," the Commander reminded her.
"Why are you making this so difficult," she said in exasperation. "It's a simple request. I just want this child to be safe. There must be some kind of care available here. We have a classroom set up for more than fifteen children on this ship. I know, because I arranged it. She can go to class during the day and stay with Billy in the evenings."
He just looked at her. She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew it. She just couldn't stop it. She cared about the little girl with the blond hair, and every time she saw those sparkling eyes she was reminded why they were trying so damn hard to keep their civilization alive. Reason told her that Katee was fine, and safe, and most likely better off where she was. But reason wasn't straightening out her heart, and that heart wanted the child as far from any attacks as she could possibly be. Security wasn't enough; she wanted Katee here, where she could be assured of her health and well being.
The Commander had demanded that she and her immediate cabinet be housed on the Galactica. Space had been cleared, and they were provided with round- the-clock security in the event that anyone should get the idea to express their frustration at living conditions by taking it out on the government directly. She wanted that same security for Katee, and nothing less would do. It wasn't reasonable, nor practical, nor logical. It simply was.
The Commander was still looking at her, still considering. At least he hadn't yet said 'no'." "She's just an innocent little girl," Laura said as she closed her eyes. She was starting to tear up, and she hated to be weak in front of this man. "You can't leave her there. Please."
"I'll speak to my son," he finally agreed. "If the child is willing to come, and if those caring for her will consent, then we'll bring her to the Galactica on a temporary basis. Once the situation is more stable, she will have to be returned. Yes, there are children on the Galactica, but it's because they are directly related to someone aboard or have been essentially adopted. In the event of a Cylon attack, the Galactica will be the primary target."
"And the only ship with built in defenses," she added. "Please."
"I've already agreed," he told her gently. "I'll take care of it."
"I know you think I'm being silly," she began, but he cut her off.
"You're being human," he told her. "If we don't care for those weaker than ourselves, then there just isn't a point. If it's this important to you, I'll bring her here. We'll work out her care somehow. Perhaps someone she knows can come with her. That could be a solution."
"Thank you," she told him gratefully. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, not even acknowledging her apology. "No thanks is necessary. I haven't done anything yet. I'll speak to Lee and send him back over to the Lenna Dell. Try not to let it worry you."
"I bet you're sorry you mentioned it," she said in a tired voice.
"Actually, yes," he admitted. "But only because it's worried you. I didn't mean to add to the stress you're under. You have enough to deal with."
"You do as well," she allowed. "I know you speak to me about it, but do you have anyone else to confide in? No one man can carry everything by himself. And," she took a deep breath, "I may not always be here."
"I told you because you would have found out anyway," he told her honestly. "If I was just worried about the situation, I'd take it to my XO. He's a good listener, and a good friend. Don't worry about me. Probably half the reason you're so sick is that you worry."
The last had been said with a wink but she replied as though it had been serious. "I've always taken things seriously," she admitted. "My job has always been making things happen for our future - our children - and that's a serious business. It's more than passing laws and hoping for the best; it's considering their needs with every thought, every breath. I don't know any other way."
"I know," he told her softly as he stood to leave. "And there are times that I'm grateful for it. But I still think you need to let yourself rest."
"I will," she promised. "Just let me know when Katee is aboard."
He shook his head with a small smile. "Damned stubborn woman," he said without heat.
"Always," she returned with a matching smile. "So don't forget it."
She could swear she heard his laughter as he walked from the room, but she was too tired to know for sure. Sleep was finally coming to her, and she welcomed the momentary oblivion it offered.
Laura Roslin finally lifted her head from the basin and put it back against the pillow. She wasn't in her quarters, as she had intended to be, but in the infirmary. When she had finally passed out from the constant vomiting, Billy had called for help and she had awoken with an IV in one arm and a very annoyed Doctor Salik looking down at her.
"Dehydration is as dangerous as this cancer," he had said without preamble. "And the death is decidedly quicker. If you can't be trusted to pay attention to your own body's signals, I will admit you to Life Station and to hell with all this damn secrecy. Are we clear?"
President Roslin didn't see the humor in her being ordered by a Captain - doctor or not, nor the irony in his decision to violate the Commander's orders. What she saw was the man who was doing his best to keep her alive, and that she had let him down. She had let them all down. "Yes, Sir," she told him in a croaky voice that was weak from her throat's constant abuse.
The doctor took a deep breath while he considered her. "Half of the nausea is from the dehydration," he explained in a more sympathetic manner. "And of course the imbalance of electrolytes and low blood sugar. How long has it been since you kept anything down?"
"I don't know," she said vaguely. It was the truth. She couldn't remember the last meal that hadn't made a return visit.
He nodded. "I'm starting you on intravenous nutrition," he explained. "It will bypass the digestive tract and go directly to your blood. It should get your strength back in short order. It may not stop the vomiting, but it will prevent you losing the fuel your body will need to get well."
"Thank you," she said simply.
"It's not a solution," he clarified. "It will destroy your kidneys in a matter of weeks. But it's all we have until we get you through the next two sessions of chemo. The problem is that I'll have to get it in you on a regular basis, and that will require your presence here or a tech in your quarters. Which would you prefer?"
"Why can't I do it myself?"
"Because you aren't qualified," he told her. "We're talking about introducing high-powered nutritional concentrate directly into your blood. The potentials for contamination or infection are very high. That's why I don't normally offer this as an option. Your body isn't giving me any choice. You refuse to slow down, lay down, or rest. If you can't give your body what it needs to heal, then I have to start pitting body systems against one another to do it for you. I don't appreciate this choice, but if I have to make it I'll damn well do it right. So, here or a private tech?"
"The tech," she allowed. "I'm sorry I'm such a lousy patient."
He didn't reply to that. She couldn't blame him. Her illness had kept him hopping since she'd let him know about it two weeks following the destruction of the colonies. She hadn't wanted to do it, especially since at the time they hadn't had any of the resources necessary to treat it, but the doctor on Caprica had been adamant that she receive immediate treatment before the cancer progressed any further through her body. If she was going to lead what was left of the population, even long enough for someone more qualified to be elected, she would have to do her best to stay alive for the job.
She was beginning to wish that she had simply decided to die. It would have been easier. Self-pity wasn't something she enjoyed, so she cut that thought off before it really formed. She didn't like being sick, but she liked whining even less.
So instead she cleared her mind and tried to rest without much success. The IV in her hand stung, and she absently wondered why they hadn't just used the line in her chest as they did for the chemo. She also wondered whether Billy would bother to bring her work down to her, and decided that likely he wouldn't. For such a young man, he was awfully protective. Knowing he had gone through something similar with his mother certainly explained a lot.
She was so busy trying to rest that she didn't bother with listening to what was going on around her. Her own mind was filled with miscellaneous thoughts that had no relevance, and no string of thought seemed to go anywhere. She was actually relieved when a soft voice broke through her attempts to take a nap.
"How are you feeling?"
She smiled in spite of herself. Her greatest rival; and her biggest supporter. She didn't know what to do with the man. She had disliked him on sight, and had quickly learned to respect him even before she fully understood. He was a good man. She supposed that was the bottom line. "Better, Commander," she replied without opening her eyes.
"I was a little surprised to hear that you'd come down here. I thought it must be bad."
She heard him shifting through the room and finally opened her eyes to see him standing near the foot of the bed she was on. "It wasn't voluntary," she admitted. "Billy sent for the medics, and I was in no condition to argue."
"At least you admit it," he allowed. "What can I do?"
She sighed. "Nothing. It's just a combination of dehydration and lack of food. The doctor is taking care of it."
He looked down on her for a moment, then shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think it's that easy. You're going to have to slow down."
"How do you propose I do that?" she asked softly. "Announce to the populace that I have cancer and need a few weeks off for intensive therapy?"
"Maybe just announcing that you've taken ill, and will be reducing your responsibilities until you recover," he suggested.
"I have a job to do," she said softly. "I didn't ask for it, but neither can I back away from it. I took an oath."
"So did I," he told her gently. "But that oath doesn't mean anything if I work myself into a grave. I have a responsibility to keep myself healthy and ready for duty. You have that same responsibility. You need to slow yourself down."
"Lords, I hate it when you're right," she admitted with a slight smile.
"I try not to let it happen often," he told her with a wink. "As far as I'm concerned, you have the most recent virus that's tackling our crew, and you'll be resting for a few days. That's all anyone needs to know."
"Thank you," she responded simply. It was the least she could say, but he didn't seem to mind. He nodded his acceptance, then took a seat in the chair near the door.
"I just wish all our problems were that easy to solve," he muttered. "Do you mind if I hide out here for a few minutes?"
"I can't see you hiding from anything."
He smiled again, but then it faded. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't want to bother her. It was the same expression she saw on Billy's face at least twice a day. "Go ahead," she said softly. "I promise not to get out of this bed to do anything about it."
He looked at her for a moment more, then sighed. "I've had to dispatch security forces to a number of ships," he admitted. "Rumors are spreading that there are fuel and food shortages, and attacks have begun on select populations. It bothers me that people would turn against each other when we need one another to survive."
She nodded her understanding. "We've discussed this," she reminded him. "We knew there would be those who took their own survival more seriously than others'."
"I know. But I never thought I'd have to send security in to protect our weakest," he said softly. "There have been attacks on the Minestra and the Lenna Dell both. Patients, mostly. Those who are old and weak, and who some feel are unworthy to live. It's infuriating."
"The Lenna Dell?" she asked anxiously.
He nodded. "There have been a few injuries there, but no deaths. When several of their elderly patients fell ill, they began tests to find out if we had a new virus on our hands. It turned out to be poison. The kitchen staff has been questioned extensively, but so far there are no leads. That's why I have security placed there now. My men may not be perfect, but they are honest. If they see anything going on, they'll let me know."
"Do you know what sections are affected?" she asked softly.
"The long-term care units, so far," he admitted. "But we've had the same thing happening on the Minestra in a ward of disabled patients. Many lost everything with the war, including parts of their bodies, and now someone wants to take their lives. It's as bad as what the Cylons were doing, only worse. It's selective genocide."
"Any deaths there?"
He had that look of uncertainty again. He didn't answer.
"You know I'll find out," she reminded him.
"Six," he admitted. "Four by poisoning, and two by suffocation. It's deliberate murder, and it's directed at those who can't protect themselves."
She shook her head in a combination of frustration and anger. These were her people, as much as they were the Commander's, and it felt as though she were being personally attacked. "We need to be increasing our population," she ground out. "Not destroying it."
He nodded. She knew they felt the same way about it. They shouldn't be attacking one another; they should be having children.
Children.
"The Lenna Dell," she said with urgency. "Those that were poisoned, were they adults or children."
"Adults, I believe. Why?"
She closed her eyes in a measure of relief, but her urgency wasn't abated. "I need to see Captain Apollo," she told him anxiously. "Immediately."
Adama stood quickly. "What's the matter? Are you ill?"
She shook her head. "There's a child," she explained. "She is disabled, and on the Lenna Dell. I want her removed until we find out what's happening. She doesn't have any family; only the medical staff looking after her. We need to move her someplace safe."
"Why isn't she on the Kastyline? She would be safe there."
Laura shook her head so adamantly that she made herself dizzy and had to pause. "I know children," she finally said. "They are cruel to anyone different. Katee's disability is obvious, and she's too gentle to fight back. It would be like sending a puppy into a pack of wolves."
"Why Lee?" he asked.
"He was there," she told him. "He's seen her. He knows who she is. He can take Billy with him. She likes Billy, and I know she'll come with him." When he didn't reply, she added another word almost desperately. "Please."
She isn't likely to be in any immediate danger there," he said softly. "And a warship is no place for a child."
"There are children aboard the Galactica," she argued. "And I'm not talking about something permanent. Just bring her here until we catch whoever is doing this. If you don't, I'll do my best to do it myself, and to hell with my supposed 'illness'."
"Who will care for her?"
"Billy," she improvised. "She likes him."
"Billy has duties of his own," the Commander reminded her.
"Why are you making this so difficult," she said in exasperation. "It's a simple request. I just want this child to be safe. There must be some kind of care available here. We have a classroom set up for more than fifteen children on this ship. I know, because I arranged it. She can go to class during the day and stay with Billy in the evenings."
He just looked at her. She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew it. She just couldn't stop it. She cared about the little girl with the blond hair, and every time she saw those sparkling eyes she was reminded why they were trying so damn hard to keep their civilization alive. Reason told her that Katee was fine, and safe, and most likely better off where she was. But reason wasn't straightening out her heart, and that heart wanted the child as far from any attacks as she could possibly be. Security wasn't enough; she wanted Katee here, where she could be assured of her health and well being.
The Commander had demanded that she and her immediate cabinet be housed on the Galactica. Space had been cleared, and they were provided with round- the-clock security in the event that anyone should get the idea to express their frustration at living conditions by taking it out on the government directly. She wanted that same security for Katee, and nothing less would do. It wasn't reasonable, nor practical, nor logical. It simply was.
The Commander was still looking at her, still considering. At least he hadn't yet said 'no'." "She's just an innocent little girl," Laura said as she closed her eyes. She was starting to tear up, and she hated to be weak in front of this man. "You can't leave her there. Please."
"I'll speak to my son," he finally agreed. "If the child is willing to come, and if those caring for her will consent, then we'll bring her to the Galactica on a temporary basis. Once the situation is more stable, she will have to be returned. Yes, there are children on the Galactica, but it's because they are directly related to someone aboard or have been essentially adopted. In the event of a Cylon attack, the Galactica will be the primary target."
"And the only ship with built in defenses," she added. "Please."
"I've already agreed," he told her gently. "I'll take care of it."
"I know you think I'm being silly," she began, but he cut her off.
"You're being human," he told her. "If we don't care for those weaker than ourselves, then there just isn't a point. If it's this important to you, I'll bring her here. We'll work out her care somehow. Perhaps someone she knows can come with her. That could be a solution."
"Thank you," she told him gratefully. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, not even acknowledging her apology. "No thanks is necessary. I haven't done anything yet. I'll speak to Lee and send him back over to the Lenna Dell. Try not to let it worry you."
"I bet you're sorry you mentioned it," she said in a tired voice.
"Actually, yes," he admitted. "But only because it's worried you. I didn't mean to add to the stress you're under. You have enough to deal with."
"You do as well," she allowed. "I know you speak to me about it, but do you have anyone else to confide in? No one man can carry everything by himself. And," she took a deep breath, "I may not always be here."
"I told you because you would have found out anyway," he told her honestly. "If I was just worried about the situation, I'd take it to my XO. He's a good listener, and a good friend. Don't worry about me. Probably half the reason you're so sick is that you worry."
The last had been said with a wink but she replied as though it had been serious. "I've always taken things seriously," she admitted. "My job has always been making things happen for our future - our children - and that's a serious business. It's more than passing laws and hoping for the best; it's considering their needs with every thought, every breath. I don't know any other way."
"I know," he told her softly as he stood to leave. "And there are times that I'm grateful for it. But I still think you need to let yourself rest."
"I will," she promised. "Just let me know when Katee is aboard."
He shook his head with a small smile. "Damned stubborn woman," he said without heat.
"Always," she returned with a matching smile. "So don't forget it."
She could swear she heard his laughter as he walked from the room, but she was too tired to know for sure. Sleep was finally coming to her, and she welcomed the momentary oblivion it offered.
