Chapter 11
Lee handed off his empty food tray to the nurse with a satisfied grin. "Cleaned my whole plate. No bag needed."
The nurse offered him an amused smile. "Congratulations."
"That's two days in a row now," he reminded her.
"Yes it is, isn't it?" She was pretending to be surprised.
He held up his right hand where the IV was attached. "I really don't need this anymore."
The nurse just chuckled. "Let's just see what the doctor says."
Lee had to wait nearly an hour before Doctor Cottle dropped by on his morning rounds. The doctor took his time noting Lee's pulse and blood pressure while Lee tapped his fingers impatiently. Cottle finally slipped his hands into his pockets and gave Lee a knowing look.
"Rumor has it you're anxious to get unplugged," the doctor drawled. From one pocket he pulled out a fresh packet of cigarettes. From the other pocket he retrieved a lighter.
"Yes," Lee said firmly. "You said that once I was able to eat normal food again that..."
"I know full well what I said," Cottle told him, slipping one cigarette between his lips and lighting up.
"Then... can I go?"
Cottle blew out a stream of smoke with a pleased look on his face. "You are still a long way from having all your strength back. You still need a lot of rest."
"Fine," Lee said impatiently. "But I don't need a nursing staff to help me with that."
Cottle gave Lee a skeptical look. "You sure about that?"
"Positive."
"Even after yesterday?" Cottle asked with a keen look, reminding Lee about the episode that the doctor had declared as a "panic attack."
Lee let out a frustrated breath. "Positive," Lee repeated determinedly. When the doctor hesitated to provide an answer, Lee asked him suspiciously, "Did my father ask you to keep me here?"
The doctor sternly replied, "The commander does not make medical judgments. I do."
"That doesn't answer my question," Lee pointed out. "Did he ask you to keep me here, to keep an eye on me because he doesn't trust me on my own?"
"Captain, I'm not sure I trust you on your own," Cottle said bluntly.
"So he did ask you."
"Actually, no. He didn't."
Lee wasn't wholly convinced by the doctor's denial. "Then explain it to me Doc. What medical reason do you have for keeping here? What sort of treatment do I require from a trained medical staff at this point?"
The doctor took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. "Well, if you were to experience any more episodes like you did yesterday..."
Lee interrupted. "There will not be any panic attacks Doctor."
Cottle studied his patient's face. The determination he saw there was almost intimidating. In that regard, Lee Adama was very much like his father.
"Tell you what Captain," the doctor said. "If you can get through your morning shower... and lunch... without incident... I'll cut you loose."
Lee nodded. "Deal," he said. He wasn't happy about the delay, but he suspected it was as much of a compromise as Doctor Cottle was going to make.
Commander Adama dropped into the chair behind his desk feeling like he'd just been run through the wringer. In his second session with Doctor Marsh, the kindly-looking, delicate, little old lady had been merciless. The primary topic of discussion had been the Cylon War. The First Cylon War. He had initially tried to claim to her that events so far in the past were of no relevant importance to him now. He had accepted what happened, taken responsibility where appropriate, and moved on.
Doctor Marsh had stunned him by laughing out loud. Then she had composed herself and said, "We'll see."
It hadn't taken long at all for her to prove him wrong. The memories and the feelings she had forced him to dredge up were brutal. He had finally protested the entire conversation, demanding to know, "Why are we sitting here picking at old wounds and making them bleed?"
"Those wounds wouldn't bleed if they were healed," she'd told him.
William had walked from the doctor's office after almost 90 painful minutes feeling exhausted and very troubled. He was right around the corner from sickbay and had originally planned to drop by and visit with Lee after his session with Doctor Marsh. He'd intended to try broaching one of those difficult, but important, areas of discussion with his son that he knew he'd been avoiding for so long. But now he didn't feel that he was up to it. In truth he didn't even want Lee to see him in his current state. So, he had returned to his quarters instead, hoping to indulge in a little peace and quiet, and visit with Lee later that afternoon.
He leaned his head back wearily against the high back of his chair and let out a deep breath, trying to unwind. Then the phone rang. He winced and reached for the receiver. It was Petty Officer Dualla, calling to inform him that the President's shuttle was coming on board.
"Just what I need," he grumped. Into the phone he told Dee, "I'll meet her in my quarters." He waited impatiently, seated at his desk, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "Hurry up," he thought. "Let's just get this over with." Laura Roslin really was just about the last person that he wanted to see right then.
Though it took no more than five minutes from the time he was informed of her arrival until she stepped into his quarters, William had worked himself up into a foul mood and he was spoiling for a fight. She walked into his office space and stood there as though she expected him to rise from his chair and kiss her on the cheek in welcome. He knew full well it was a violation of protocol not to stand when the President entered the room, but he didn't give a frak.
"Well?" he prompted her.
She was visibly surprised by his curt greeting. "Well..."
"Have your say and get it over with."
She blinked, looking decidedly put out. Then she gathered her composure... and surprised the heck out of him. "First... I want to apologize."
This time Adama blinked. "What?"
Her rigid posture relaxed a bit. "The last time we spoke... at your son's bedside... I said some things that were completely uncalled for. Truthfully, I was downright cruel and there was no excuse for that. I am very sorry."
Adama just sat and stared. "Am I really hearing this?" he wondered.
"I know that it was a very difficult time for you. Your son was fighting for his life and there is probably nothing more painful to a parent than that."
"Probably?" Adama had had some of the wind knocked out of his sails already, but he was still not willing to welcome this woman into his good graces. "Let me assure you Ms. Roslin, there is absolutely nothing more painful than that."
It didn't escape Laura's notice that the commander had addressed her by her surname rather than by title, but rather than make an issue of it, she simply said, "I won't attempt to justify my behavior. I am truly and deeply sorry."
Adama scrutinized her carefully. "You came over from Colonial One just to tell me that?"
"No," she admitted sheepishly. "I've been avoiding coming over from Colonial One to avoid telling you that. I've only just now made the trip because there is something I need to discuss with you."
"So the apology was just a smokescreen?"
"No," she said sincerely. "I meant what I said. Completely. I have regretted my words for several days now, but you are not an easy man to apologize to Commander, so I have been putting it off. Now that I'm here, however, I can't very well avoid what is an overdue obligation. I don't even expect your forgiveness. I really don't. But you have my apology anyway."
Adama just sat looking at Laura Roslin with a rigidly stern expression. "Noted," he said. "What was it you really came here for?"
"And here's where the blowup begins," Laura thought. "I remain very deeply concerned for your son's safety," she said. "I know there is a prevailing opinion among some that he attempted suicide. However, I happen to believe that it was attempted murder... and I believe Tom Zarek may be ultimately responsible."
For the second time in only a few minutes Laura Roslin succeeded in completely surprising William Adama. "Zarek? You think Zarek is trying to kill my son?"
"Yes," she said.
"I assume you have evidence?"
"Weak, circumstantial evidence, yes," she replied.
William stood up from his chair. "Tell me." He walked around to the front of his desk and stood facing the President.
"He's going to listen?" Laura cleared her throat. "Somehow, Zarek learned very early on about the alleged suicide. He was in fact told that Captain Apollo had died, which indicates that his information was received prematurely."
Adama shook his head, unconvinced. "There were a lot of rumors flying around."
"Not that early on. Besides, there were no communications that night between Galactica and the Astral Queen. How would any rumor have reached Zarek?"
"Second hand. Third hand. Rumors have a way of traveling quickly and the fact that what he heard was wrong just reinforces that."
"Here goes," Laura braced herself. "There was a message sent from Galactica to the Geminon Traveler at 12:55am. About ten minutes later, another message was sent from the Geminon Traveler to the Astral Queen. It could have been a message from the killer notifying Zarek that the job was done, relayed through the Geminon Traveler so that it would not be brought to your direct attention. At that time of the night it did appear that Captain Apollo was not going to survive, so that would have been what was reported to Tom Zarek."
After a few seconds, Adama actually chuckled. "Madame President, I think you've been reading a few too many mystery novels."
This wasn't at all the angry eruption that Laura had feared, but it wasn't what she'd hoped for either. "You have transcripts of those two messages stored on file, do you not?"
Adama nodded. "We archive the non-critical transmissions for 2 weeks, so they should still be on file."
"May I take a look?" she requested as humbly as she could manage.
"No," Adama said, very matter-of-factly.
"Commander," Laura said with a bit more vigor, "we may be dealing with a murder conspiracy involving one of the elected members of the Quorum of Twelve. That places this issue under my authority and responsibility just as much as yours."
Adama appeared to consider that point. But then he said, "Let me ask you something. How did you even find out about the transmissions?"
Laura looked the commander directly in the eye and told him, "I was deeply concerned about your son. I wanted to know how Tom Zarek got his information, so I asked a friend for help."
"Would this friend be a member of my crew?"
"Yes," she replied without hesitation.
"Care to tell me who?"
"No," Laura said, very matter-of-factly.
Adama smirked and shook his head in reply.
Laura added, "I can tell you that in spite of your potential misgivings, this crewmember remains completely loyal to you and only assisted me on this matter out of mutual respect and concern for your son."
Adama stared at Roslin for several seconds, his face unreadable. He at last shook his head again and stepped back to lean against his desk. "Madame President, I appreciate your concern for Lee's well-being, but if this conspiracy theory of yours is based solely on the fact that two ships communicated that night... an occurrence that happens every night, all over the fleet... well the fact is you haven't got a pot to piss in. And I will thank you to never again have any dealings with a member of my crew without going through me first."
Roslin steadfastly returned Adama's stern gaze for several seconds. Then she smiled and inclined her head. "Very well," she said. "Good day, Commander." She didn't wait for him to return the sentiment before turning her back to him and walking away.
Billy was pacing anxiously in the hallway and hurried over to Laura as soon as she emerged from Commander Adama's quarters. "Well?" he asked nervously.
"Well," she said, "no handcuffs or bloodshed."
"Did he agree to let you see the transcripts?"
"No," she said, but then smiled. "But he'll check them himself. I'm sure of it."
"Doctor Marsh?" Lee rapped on the hatch frame of Doctor Marsh's office as he stepped across the threshold.
The doctor checked her watch and beckoned Lee into the room. "Right on time. Come on in Lee and close the hatch. Do you like what I've done with the place?"
Lee looked around the sparse office. The doctor had a utilitarian desk, a couch, and a chair. That was it. "Are you going for a minimalist theme?"
"I call it 'Government Issue.' Have a seat." The doctor settled herself into the chair while Lee sat down on the couch. He was carrying a good-sized box that he set on the floor by his feet, giving her a good view of his right hand.
"Not a present for me?" She kidded him pointing to the box.
"Sorry," Lee said. "It's kind of a 'Get Well' present from the deck crew, something they made for me."
She pointed next at his hand. "No catheter?"
Lee smiled. "Nope. Not any more. Doctor Cottle just cut me loose."
"He released you?" She was surprised.
"I kind of bullied my way out the door," Lee admitted. "But after a long list of instructions he did sign me out." He displayed his bandaged left hand. "I do have to drop back in in three days for evaluation though."
"Why the rush to get out?" she asked him. After a slight hesitation from Lee, she told him, "Be blunt."
Lee reluctantly said, "Because it's harder to hit a moving target."
"What do you mean?" she prompted him gently.
Lee met the doctor's eyes directly and said, "Someone on this ship has tried to kill me twice now. But nothing is being done about it."
"Twice?" she inquired.
Lee nodded. "Someone tampered with my IV yesterday while I was in the shower. But just like the first attack, there's no investigation. No questions are being asked." Lee saw the doctor eyeing him carefully. "You already heard from Doctor Cottle that it was a panic attack, didn't you?"
She nodded. "He told me that was his conclusion. He labeled it the result of ..."
"Acute Stress Disorder," Lee finished for her.
"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "He also did tell me that you disagreed with his diagnosis."
"I felt it," Lee told her, calmly and confidently. He looked at his bandaged hand. "Right after they hooked me back up, I felt something spreading up my arm, from the IV. I don't know what it was. We'll never know. But I did not just freak out over a flashback."
The doctor's face was completely neutral as she asked, "Did you have a flashback?"
Lee considered the question. "I'm not sure. The sensation in my arm did feel... familiar. But I felt the cold and the tingling first. Then it hit me that it was familiar, and I knew it was dangerous. But there was no memory and it was not a panic attack. Of course that's not what Doctor Cottle told my father, so everyone just assumes I'm crazy. That is, everyone but me and the person who tried to kill me. Someone on this ship doesn't want me to get my memory back, and I won't get it back lying in sickbay where I'm a sitting target for attempt number 3."
Lee saw that the doctor was writing on her notepad. He frowned. "Just out of curiosity," he asked, "you're not noting that I'm having paranoid delusions, are you?"
Doctor Marsh gave Lee a grandmotherly smile. "No. I'm noting how you get little creases between your eyebrows when you're agitated. It's rather cute actually." She giggled at Lee's shocked amusement. "I see you get it when you're perplexed too. Go ahead Lee. You were saying?"
Having thoroughly lost his train of thought, Lee had to ask, "What was I saying?"
"You were telling me about how you didn't feel safe remaining in sickbay any longer and you feel you have to take more affirmative action to regain your memories."
Lee grinned. "It actually sounds better the way you just said it."
"Have you returned to your quarters yet?" she asked him.
"No."
"Nervous?"
"A little," he admitted. "I was hoping you might have some suggestions... something I should do... some techniques or something that might help to kick start my brain when I go back there."
She told him, "There's no magic key to your memories Lee. But I'll be happy to go with you if you'd like."
"Right now?" he asked.
"Why not?" She closed up her notebook and stood up from her chair. "You're anxious to get the ball rolling and this session is far from up. Let's go." Lee pushed himself to his feet and the doctor slipped her notebook and recorder into her briefcase. She told him, "According to the information your father gave me, your memory peters out while you were in the rec room, playing cards. Is that right?"
"Yes," Lee confirmed. "I don't remember leaving the table."
"Let's go there first then," she suggested, taking his arm and nudging him toward the hatch.
As he made his way down the hallways with the doctor on his arm, Lee began to notice that the crew members they passed offered him polite smiles, but they also looked very wary of him. Lee shook his head. "They're afraid to talk to me," he thought. "They're afraid I'm going to flip out."
"Tell me how you felt that night," Doctor Marsh instructed him.
"At the card game?"
"Yes."
"Tired," he said simply.
"Rumor has it you hadn't been sleeping much for the last few weeks before that."
"Consider that rumor confirmed," he told her. "That's what happens when you end up having to do the work of three people in spite of the fact you weren't properly trained for any of it."
Doctor Marsh clucked, "Wartime advancement is a bitch."
"Yes," Lee agreed.
"But your father was about to resume his duties. You were just about to resume your own singular duties as CAG again. Wasn't that a relief?"
"I hoped it would be, but..."
"But what?"
Lee told the doctor thoughtfully, "It's like when I was 17 and I was training for this big regional track meet. My race was the 10K, and I was good. I was the best at my school and second in the district at that distance. I was training like crazy for this meet and I thought I might even have a chance to medal. Well, the district team had only one runner competing in the 20K distance and he pulled a hamstring 2 days before the competition. So the day before the meet, the coach asked me to change races and run the 20K instead. He didn't think anybody else on the team could go the distance and they still had three others entered in the 10K, including the district champ. I'd never even trained at that distance before, but for the sake of the team, I did it."
"How did you do?" Doctor Marsh asked.
Lee grimaced at the memory. "At the halfway split, I set a personal record. It was my best 10K distance yet, and I still felt pretty good. But those last 5,000 meters..." He shook his head. "I was just trying to survive. I finished the race, but it was out of pure stubborn tenacity, nothing more. I finished only because I refused to quit. When I crossed the finish line, I didn't feel relieved. I just felt... wasted. I didn't belong in that race. I wasn't ready for it and there was no joy in it at all."
Doctor Marsh gave Lee's arm a squeeze. "But you did it. You accomplished something you'd never done before."
"Yeah, that's what my mother said," Lee grinned. "But I knew what was going to happen next. Nobody cared that I had just run the best 10K distance of my life. They only cared that they had a new potential 20K runner and wanted to know if I could train up in time to be really competitive in the 20K at the next meet."
Doctor Marsh nodded her understanding. "Once you've raised people's expectations of you..."
"...they never let you go back," Lee sighed.
After a short pause, the doctor asked, "So did you run the 20K again?"
"Isn't that beside the point?" Lee asked. "The whole story was just about..."
"I know what the point of the story was," she interrupted. "But now I'm curious. Did you run the 20K or go back to the 10K?"
After a hesitation, Lee told her, "I ran the 20K."
"And?" She nudged him.
"And... I kicked ass. But that's beside the point," Lee claimed amidst the doctor's laughter.
She chuckled. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he said, though he couldn't help finding the doctor's amusement contagious. "I still felt like shit at the end of the first race..." He stopped and winced. "Sorry for the language."
"Oh frak that. You were saying?"
Laughing, Lee said, "I was saying that I still felt like shit at the end of that race, in spite of the fact that I got through it." His amusement faded then. "And that's how it felt the night of the attack. I was wiped out. There was no sense of satisfaction, and I couldn't really feel relieved."
"Because now that the crew had a whole new perspective of you, you knew you weren't really going to be allowed to go back to being just the CAG?"
"Exactly."
The doctor nodded. "You're right. The other races were beside the point. But on the other hand, you do apparently have a good track record of rising to the occasion."
Lee rolled his eyes and groaned at the pun.
"Sorry," Doctor Marsh giggled. "It was too easy. Couldn't let that one pass. But tell me Lee, do you think you would still have gone on to kick ass in the 20K if you hadn't been forced to run that first painful race? Would you have tried it on your own, or just stayed with the 10K?"
Lee frowned down at the diminutive, silver-haired doctor. "Now I know you're playing head games."
"It's my job. I'm entitled. So what's the answer Junior?"
Lee shrugged. "I don't know. I probably would have done it, but not until college at least."
"And how did you do in college?"
"I dusted the upper-classmen in my freshman year. Then I pushed my distance out to 30K in my junior year."
"Was that your idea?"
"Yes," he said. After a thoughtful pause, he added, "Truth is that even when I was still running the 10K, I wanted to work my way up to 20. I just didn't want to do it overnight. Though I have to admit, that race showed me how far I really can push myself. It gave me a lot of confidence and I've never really been afraid of new challenges since then. I don't always welcome them... but I'm not afraid of them."
Lee and Doctor Marsh had arrived at the hatch leading into the rec room. Five of Lee's pilots were gathered there and they enthusiastically greeted Lee's arrival. They were all surprised to see Lee out of sickbay, and all expressed their pleasure at seeing that he looked well. Lee thanked them, feeling very self-conscious.
"So," Doctor Marsh asked, "where were you seated that night?"
"Over there." Lee pointed out the table where he had been playing cards.
"Pull up a chair, Flyboy," she instructed him.
Lee pulled a chair over to same spot where he'd been seated during the game and sat down. After a few seconds, he asked the doctor. "Is something supposed to happen now?"
Doctor Marsh went to stand just behind Lee's right shoulder, out of his line of sight. "Who else was at the table?" she prompted him.
Lee pointed out each position of the other players. "Starbuck... Kat... and Helo."
Helo, who was among the pilots hanging out in the rec room at that time, raised his hand. "Yep, I was on your left."
Lee hadn't really noticed that the pilots were all watching him. He felt even more self-conscious than before.
The doctor pointed at Helo. "You. You were at the table?"
"Yeah," Helo confirmed.
The doctor pointed toward the chair on Lee's left. "Park it Hotstuff." Looking thoroughly amused, Helo slid into the chair beside Lee.
With a concentrated look on his face, Lee turned toward Helo. "Who was dealing that last hand?" he asked the Raptor pilot.
"I was," Helo told him.
The doctor tapped Lee's shoulder. "You come up with the answers," she told Lee. To Helo, she said, "You just sit there and look pretty till I tell you otherwise." Helo stared back at the doctor with a big grin on his face.
A very slight smile crept onto Lee's face. He looked at Helo again. "Kat folded right after Kara stood on her initial hand. You took one card, and then folded after Kara raised the pot to 50. I had too good a hand to just fold, but Kara had more money, so I couldn't take her out of the game. I made her call. Then I turned it in."
Doctor Marsh smiled. "And you didn't remember any of those details before?"
Lee smiled too. "No. I remember pulling out of the game now. That was when I left. And..." His expression grew deeply concentrated. Then he winced. "Frak. That's all."
The doctor patted his shoulder. "All right. We're making progress. The surroundings here helped. Let's move on to the next scene."
"Back to quarters?"
"You feel up to it?"
"Yes," Lee said determinedly. He rose from his chair a little too quickly, however, and for a few seconds he was a little light-headed.
Helo got up quickly and put a steadying hand on Lee's arm. "You all right Captain?"
Lee took a deep breath. "Yeah Helo. Thanks."
"Are you sure Sir?" Helo asked. "You went a little pale there for a second. If you need a hand getting back to quarters..."
"No," Lee declined. "I'll be fine." He stepped away from the table, feeling better but moving a little more cautiously. "Hey Helo?"
"Yes Sir?"
"Do you know where Starbuck is?"
"She's on CAP," Helo replied.
"Do you know when she's due back?"
Helo checked his watch. "In about five hours."
Lee was disappointed. He had been hoping to finally catch up with Kara sooner than that. "Thanks," he said. He walked from the rec room with Doctor Marsh once again beside him.
The walk from the rec room toward officers' quarters was much less chatty than the trip from Doctor Marsh's office had been. Encouraged by the restoration of his memory at the card game, Lee concentrated on digging up whatever might have happened in the minutes after he walked away from the table. As they headed down one hallway and then another however, nothing new was coming back to him. As they approached the hatch to his quarters, Lee slowed gradually to a stop. He stared at the closed hatch.
"Anything?" Doctor Marsh asked quietly.
Lee shook his head. "Not yet. I remember leaving the card game, but nothing after that."
"All right. Let's go in." Lee pulled the hatch open and held it for the doctor to step through first. She shook her head and told him, "Thank you for being a gentleman, but you didn't follow me into the room that night. You go on. I'll be right behind you."
Lee stepped inside. He was pleased to see that no one else was there. He wouldn't have an audience this time like he'd had back in the rec room. He looked around intently, concentrating.
"Tell me what you're thinking," Doctor Marsh said behind him, again staying out of his line of sight.
"I wish I knew," Lee said softly.
"You do know. Spit it out," she told him.
"I feel... a little uneasy, but I don't know why," he said. His eyes keenly took in every detail of his surroundings. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Nothing is coming back."
"Well, let's walk through it," Doctor Marsh instructed. "Try to stay relaxed. You would have walked through the hatch that night and... yodeled?"
Lee smiled at the doctor's levity. "I just wanted to get some sleep, so... I'd have gone to my locker to get undressed."
"Other people were in here," she reminded him.
Lee tried to imagine the setting as it would have been. "I know Kara came in later. They told me Frosty and Stinger were already asleep."
"Which racks?" Lee pointed out for her which racks were assigned to his pilots. "Try to picture that now. Your pilots are in those racks, snoozing away. You come in through the hatch. And..."
Lee walked through the motions. "I'd have gone to my locker." He stepped over and pulled open the locker door. "And... nothing."
"Try to be patient."
"Does that advice ever work?" he asked.
"Once in a blue moon."
Lee stood staring, waiting. Frustrated he shut the locker door. "Frak." As he had back in the rec room, Lee found himself feeling suddenly light-headed. It was easy to forget that he'd only just been released from sickbay and that Doctor Cottle had sternly instructed him to rest as much as possible.
"Why don't you sit down?" Doctor Marsh suggested. "You're looking a little pale again."
Lee dropped into one of the chairs at the room's center table. With elbows on the table, he settled his head wearily into his hands. "I remembered the card game,' he said tiredly.
Doctor Marsh sat down beside him. "Yes, you did," she said. "You're making progress."
"Why can't I remember the rest?"
"The card game wasn't traumatic," she explained. "It was just caught up in the fringes of the event. That's why you remembered it first. Don't get discouraged Lee. It's only been a few days and your mind is starting to loosen up the barriers already."
"You don't understand," Lee groaned. "I have to remember." He sat up straighter, leaning back in the chair. "You saw how the crew was looking at me in the hallways. They're walking on eggshells around me, believing I'm nuts. No one is going to believe otherwise until I can prove what really happened, and I can't prove it until I remember. And I have to do it on my own. No one is even going to try to help me!"
She whistled and waved a hand in his face. "Hello? Did I suddenly become invisible?"
Lee lowered his head contritely. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just meant that... somebody tried to kill me, and my friends... my family... aren't doing jack about it. How am I supposed to interpret that?"
"How do you interpret that?" she asked pointedly.
Lee hesitated before answering. "They'd prefer me to just be crazy. It makes it easier on them."
"How would that be easier?"
"They can write me off," Lee said. "They can just let you deal with me while they go on about their own business." Lee hadn't even noticed before that Doctor Marsh had retrieved her notepad from the briefcase.
"Who exactly are 'they'? Your father, I assume. Who else?"
"Starbuck," Lee replied. "Lieutenant Kara Thrace."
"Is she your girlfriend?"
Lee grinned weakly. "Well, she's a girl, and she's a friend. At least she used to be."
"Have the two of you been intimate?"
"No," Lee said. "Strictly friends. And she was engaged to my brother at the time he died."
"Your brother Zak?"
"Yes."
"Did you meet her through Zak?"
"No, we were friends for a while before they met."
"So you've known her and been friends with her for several years then. But you don't consider her a friend any longer?"
Lee swallowed uneasily. With difficulty, he replied, "She hasn't acted like one in a long time."
"But she used to, once upon a time?"
Lee just nodded. Kara had been the source of so many conflicting emotions for so long. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable talking about her.
"When did things change?" Doctor Marsh asked. "Was it her engagement to your brother?"
"No," Lee replied. "We were still fine then. I even thought they'd be good for each other." Until she lied to him and got him killed, Lee thought. He didn't mention that to the doctor.
"Then when was the change?"
Lee pondered the question, tracing back the events to when the trouble had first started to appear. "It was when I became her boss," he finally answered.
"Ah," Doctor Marsh commented. "How long ago was that?"
"The day of the Holocaust. I was stranded here on Galactica and just happened to be the most senior pilot who was still breathing. That made me the CAG." Lee's expression grew troubled, thinking back on that day and the harrowing days of constant pursuit that had followed. "She did make it pretty clear, very early on... as far as she was concerned we were no longer friends."
"Clear in what way?"
"She said it. Plain and simple. 'We're not friends. You're the CAG.'"
"That's pretty plain," Doctor Marsh agreed.
"Yeah," Lee admitted quietly.
"But you didn't believe her?"
"At the time, I guess I didn't."
"You guess?"
Lee confessed, "Okay, at the time I didn't believe her. I just chalked it up to fatigue and frayed nerves. So I didn't take her seriously. I guess I didn't want to."
"You guess?"
Lee corrected himself. "I didn't want to. You're really going to make me think about my words, aren't you?"
"Gotta entertain myself somehow," Doctor Marsh grinned. "So, you didn't want to accept that your friendship with Kara was really over, even though she had told you otherwise in no uncertain terms."
Lee's demeanor became very quiet and subdued. "We'd all just lost everything," he said.
The doctor stopped him with a raised hand. "Don't try to speak for the entire civilization Lee. Just speak for yourself."
Lee nodded and gathered his train of thought together. "I was a stranger here," he explained. "I was suddenly in a command position on a strange ship, amongst people I didn't know, doing a job I'd never done before, trying to lead our defenses and prevent what little remained of our species from going extinct. But I had a friend. One friend. Someone I'd known for years. Someone I trusted. Somebody who cared. That meant a lot to me."
Lee had to stop to ease the trembling that started creeping into his voice. After several seconds he managed to collect himself and continue. "She had a temper tantrum under high stress. I figured it was no big deal. We were all on-edge. Tempers were short all around and Kara's never had a long fuse. I figured I'd let it slide and once things calmed down, we'd be okay."
"But that didn't happen?"
"As long as things were going smoothly... no sign of Cylons, everything under control... we were all right. It seemed pretty much like old times. But whenever things got rough it all changed. Right at those times when you really need your friends to support you the most... she wouldn't. Just the opposite. Those were the times when she was the most insolent, undisciplined, insulting... The fact is that I've had more incidents of insubordination from Kara than from all of the other pilots under my command, combined. She's only ever made my job harder, not easier. She couldn't even..." Lee stopped speaking, shaking his head and wincing.
"She couldn't what?" Doctor Marsh urged him to continue.
Lee looked at the elderly little lady beside him. "You were a marine?"
"Yes, I was."
"You've been in combat zones before?"
"I have," she confirmed.
"Did you always get along perfectly with all of your crewmates?"
Doctor Marsh chuckled. "No, not always."
"Even so," Lee said, "even with the people you didn't like much, did you ever... would you ever send a comrade-in-arms into combat with an insult? Would you cut them down and tell them they weren't up to doing the job right before sending them out on a high-risk mission?"
"Hell no," Doctor Marsh replied indignantly.
"Right," Lee agreed. "You tell them, 'Good luck.' 'Good hunting,' 'Give 'em hell.' Something along those lines, right? It's just common, professional courtesy, right?"
"Absolutely," Doctor Marsh agreed.
Very agitated now, Lee asked, "Shouldn't I be able to expect the same common courtesy from a friend?"
"Are you expecting it from a woman who already told you that she is not your friend?"
Lee flinched. His eyes dropped to the tabletop and he sat silently for a long time. When he finally looked up again at Doctor Marsh, his eyes were heavy and showed a trace unshed tears. "I need to accept it don't I? Kara is not my friend, is she?"
Doctor Marsh replied gently, "You're the only one who can decide that Lee."
The conflict played out visibly across Lee's face. "There are times when she still seems like the friend I used to know."
"When times are good?"
"Yes."
"When it's easy to be a friend?"
Discouraged, Lee replied, "Yes."
"Fair weather friends are easy to find Lee. Is that all she's been lately?"
"Lately, yes," Lee said sadly.
"Are you sure she wasn't always that way?"
"I didn't think so. But life was pretty different back then."
"And now you're the boss instead of her buddy."
Lee acknowledged that fact with a roll of his eyes. "Kara's always had authority issues. Now that she has to salute me and take orders from me, apparently that makes me the enemy."
"Have you treated her differently than any of your other pilots? Have you been more demanding? Expecting more of her because of your past association?"
Lee shook his head. "No. Just the opposite. I've let her get away with crap that I'd never put up with from anyone else."
Doctor Marsh pursed her lips, knowingly. "So, you've taught her that she can disrespect you and get away with it."
Lee's expression turned stern. "She used to get away with it. I don't let her anymore."
"So you changed the rules on her."
"I've started holding her to the same standards as everyone else," Lee stated.
"And she doesn't like it?"
"No, she doesn't."
Doctor Marsh nodded. "The old 'I knew you when' attitude?"
"Exactly," Lee confirmed.
"Well," the doctor said, "it sounds to me that you already know what you need to do where she is concerned."
Lee considered what that meant. "Even if I do... that doesn't make it easy."
"Nope. Never said it was easy."
"And yet..."
"What Lee?"
Lee once again looked thoroughly confused. "She saved my life. She was the one who found me after I was attacked here. And she saved me back at Ragnar too. I ordered her to leave me behind there, and she wouldn't. Oh frak it, I don't know what to think!"
Doctor Marsh looked at Lee thoughtfully. "Lee, did you ever ask Kara exactly why she told you she wasn't your friend? Have you asked her why she treats you differently now than she used to?"
"No," Lee admitted wearily.
"I haven't met Lieutenant Thrace," Doctor Marsh said. "Though I suspect that maybe I should look her up and see if she wouldn't be willing to sit down for a few sessions of her own. But until I do, I can only guess about her motives. It could be that she does indeed still care for you, even though she doesn't always know how to respond to you as the person who orders her around now. It could be that she is just as confused about the kind of relationship the two of you have now as you seem to be."
Lee took a deep breath. "But how can I continue to think of her as a friend when she's proven to me that she is the one person on this ship whom I can not rely on for support?"
"Except life support," Doctor Marsh said blithely.
Lee dropped his head back into his hands with a groan.
"Lieutenant Thrace is one of your roommates, right?"
Lee nodded, feeling damn near utterly drained. "Yes, she is."
"Then, you'll be seeing her tonight I imagine."
"I suppose."
"You suppose? Lee you asked Hotstuff back there about her whereabouts. We both know you hoped to catch up with her." The doctor reached over and put a hand on Lee's shoulder. "When you see her tonight, ask her all the questions you've asked me. If you can do that, then I'm sure whatever answers she gives you, it will be clear to you whether or not she is still your friend."
Lee nodded. "Okay," he replied, though he wasn't confident that he would have the strength to deal with Kara in what would undoubtedly turn out to be a verbal free-for-all.
Doctor Marsh gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's a little early yet, but I think we should call this session right here. You're looking a little peaked and I think you need to lie down. Frankly, I think you should have stayed in sickbay a little longer, but I'm sure Doctor Cottle didn't let you leave before giving you strict instructions to get plenty of rest."
"I got the lecture," Lee confirmed.
"Good," Doctor Marsh declared, gathering her briefcase. "I'll see you tomorrow Lee. Get some sleep."
Lee rose from his chair to open the hatch for the doctor and closed it behind her after she left. For a long time he just stood alone and silent by the hatch looking around. After a while he sensed it again, that twitch of uneasiness that he'd felt when he first walked into quarters several minutes ago. He tried to latch on to that feeling and let it lead him back to his memories, but the effort proved futile. He only succeeded in tiring himself out further.
He walked slowly toward his rack. Lee knew Doctor Marsh had been right. He did need to lie down and rest for a while. But instead he stood staring at his rack. "I died there," he thought, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He looked around, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. He had bullied his way out of sickbay because he didn't feel safe there anymore, but this room wasn't exactly safe either. Someone had already killed him here.
"Frak," he thought. "Now what?" He had so hoped that with Doctor Marsh's help, coming back here would jar those buried memories loose. Apparently it would take longer. But how frakking long? And what would he do in the meantime? If he were to lie back down in his own rack and fall asleep... would he ever wake up again?
A knock on the hatch startled Lee. His pulse actually went racing for a few seconds. "Gods Lee, get a grip," he muttered to himself. Whoever had knocked did so again. "It's open," he called out, his anxiety fading now toward curiosity. No one bothered knocking before entering shared officers' quarters. Privacy was a luxury that no one expected on a warship unless you happened to be the commander or the XO.
The hatch swung open and Lee was surprised to see the President step over the threshold. He stood up straighter. "Madame President."
She heard his greeting but had to look around for a few moments before she caught sight of him standing by his rack. "Doctor Cottle told me I should be able to find you here. I hope I didn't wake you."
"No," he said.
"He said you were under orders to rest."
"I'm not having much luck with that, I'm afraid," Lee said. "Can I do something for you Madame President?"
Laura Roslin tilted her head slightly and gave him a gentle smile. "Actually I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you. It's good to see you back on your feet. How are you feeling?"
"I feel good," he told her. "A little frustrated. My memory is starting to trickle back."
"That's good!"
"Not good enough," Lee sighed. "I remember leaving the card game in the rec room, but I can't remember a thing about what happened once I got back here. Although it... it makes me feel... uneasy... just being in this room again."
She looked at him thoughtfully. "Is that why you can't sleep?"
Lee nodded with a discouraged frown.
"Maybe I can do something for you," she suggested. "Maybe you should consider coming back with me to Colonial One."
That suggestion took Lee by surprise. "Back to Colonial One? Why?"
"I'm worried about you," Roslin told him. "I'm worried about your safety. You need to rest and get your strength back, but someone on this ship tried to kill you... in this very room no less."
Lee was surprised by how closely her thoughts echoed his own. In spite of that, he told her, "I can't just run away and hide."
"I know, but you aren't exactly capable of doing much to defend yourself right now, are you?"
Lee couldn't argue that point. He wasn't safe in his quarters. He didn't feel safe in sickbay. He'd been taken off guard in the first attack; he was sure of that. But even if Lee saw it coming the next time, he knew that he could only manage a very feeble defense right now.
"You need to rest, Captain Apollo," Roslin said gently. "And I don't think you're safe doing that here. Come back with me to Colonial One, at least for a few days while you get your strength back."
Lee considered her offer. It would be nice to be able to close his eyes without worrying that someone would murder him in his sleep, but he was still reluctant. "I have to meet with Doctor Marsh every day at 1300 hours. She's the one who gets to decide whether I go back on duty or get locked into a padded cell."
"I'm sure we can arrange a shuttle, either for you or Doctor Marsh."
Lee hesitated only another few seconds. "I need to clear it with Doctor Cottle first."
"Not your father?"
Lee shook his head. "I'm still on medical leave. I'm not even cleared for light duty yet, so that puts me under Major Cottle's authority."
"Well, let's ask him, though I don't think he'll have a problem with it."
An odd thought occurred to Lee and he looked at the President quizzically. "My father didn't put you up to this, did he?"
Laura Roslin's face displayed bewilderment. "Your father?"
"This isn't just another way of his to make sure someone is keeping an eye on me now that I've bugged out of sickbay, is it?"
Laura actually looked amused. "You actually think your father... would ask me... to look after you?"
Lee considered the scenario again. "Right. Dumb question. Sorry."
"What do you mean he left the ship?" Commander Adama interrogated Doctor Cottle.
The doctor flipped his lighter open and replied leisurely with a cigarette between his lips, "About an hour ago. He hitched a ride on the President's shuttle back to Colonial One."
"He's not cleared for duty," Adama said crossly. "He wasn't even released yet from sickbay."
"I released him right after lunch." The doctor held the lighter to the tip of his cigarette until it glowed bright red.
Adama stared at the doctor. "You didn't tell me that."
"Yes I did."
"When?"
"Just now."
Adama took a deep breath to calm himself down. Major Cottle's irreverent attitude had been a source of amusement in the past, but at the moment it was grating on his nerves. "You didn't clear him for duty, did you?"
"Hell no." Cottle took a long drag and smiled at the pleasure of a craving being satisfied. "That kid can barely take a shower without wearing himself out."
"Then what the frak does that woman think she's doing? If he's not cleared for duty, that includes duties as her advisor."
"She' not putting him to work. She's putting him bed."
"Come again?" Commander Adama didn't like the sound of that.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, you dirty old man," Doctor Cottle growled. "Lee thinks he'll be able to rest easier on Colonial One for the time being than he can here on Galactica. I think he's probably right. He's uneasy back in quarters, and he doesn't feel safe here in sickbay. And rather than leaving him alone to just take care of himself, I'll feel better knowing that he's got Mother Hen clucking over him. He'll be keeping up his appointments with Doctor Marsh, and he'll be back in three days to check in with me."
Adama paced angrily. "He can't just leave this ship without permission."
"He had permission. Mine."
"Yours?"
"That's right. He's still under my supervision."
Adama scowled. It was true that for the time being Lee was still Doctor Cottle's responsibility. Doctor Cottle did have the authority to allow Lee to leave the Galactica during his recuperation. "But I'm his father!" Adama thought.
The commander glowered at the doctor. "If you thought Lee still needed someone looking after him, you should have called me. I'm his family, not her!"
Doctor Cottle shrugged. "She was here. You weren't."
Adama glared but he honestly didn't know who he was truly angry at: the doctor, the President, or Lee. Without further comment, he turned and stalked out of sickbay. He strode through the hallways without even trying to mask his foul mood. The crew gave him a wide berth and even avoided their typical congenial greetings to their commander. Everyone knew, when the Old Man looked like that... just steer clear until the storm passes.
Adama stomped into his quarters and slammed the hatch shut. He had rarely in his life felt more furious and more hurt than he did at that moment. "Damn that woman!" he cursed loudly. Why did she have to keep interfering? Wouldn't she ever stop coming between him and his children? And why did Lee keep letting her? Wouldn't Lee ever side with his family instead of with Laura Roslin?
"He can rest easier on Colonial One?" Adama scoffed, angrily. If Lee didn't feel safe in his own quarters, they could have made other arrangements for him. Easily! "He could have just stayed with me," Adama said, losing his rancor quickly. "All he had to do was ask." William shook his head in frustration and dropped down onto his couch.
"Why couldn't you ask me Lee?" he wondered out loud. "Why did you ask her instead?"
The doctor's recent words echoed inside his head. "She was here. You weren't."
William sagged back against the cushions. "I should have stopped in to see him earlier," he said. "I shouldn't have put off talking to him." The truth was suddenly plain to William and it hurt. Because his father wasn't there, Lee had sought help elsewhere. "Just like you taught him, Husker. You taught him that a long time ago, didn't you? Dad won't be around, so you have to make do on your own. Shit."
William groaned loudly then in response to a knock on his door. He was in no mood for visitors. Scowling, he heaved himself to his feet and went to yank open the door. Petty Officer Dualla was standing there. She blanched momentarily at the expression on his face, then composed herself and saluted smartly.
"Commander, I've just finished going through the archives of the wireless transcripts, as you requested," she told him.
"Come in Dee," he told her, pulling the hatch fully open and leaving it there in place. Dualla followed the commander into his quarters toward his office space at the back. "Did you locate those two particular messages?"
"No Sir," she replied with some reluctance.
He stopped walking and turned back around to face her. "No?"
"They're gone Sir."
"What do you mean they're gone?"
Dualla appeared to brace herself. "All of the wireless transcripts for that night are missing Sir."
"How can that be?"
"I don't know Sir. I can't explain it."
"Did you check the entire file? What if they're just out of order?"
"I checked the entire file, Sir," she declared. "It's possible that they ended up being filed with some other department's logs... or it's possible they were discarded by mistake and never filed at all. I really don't know Sir."
Adama looked at the young petty officer intently. "Is it possible Dee... that those transcripts were already pulled and handed off to someone else?"
Dualla appeared slightly intimidated by the question, but she was calm in her reply. "If that were to be the case Sir, I have no knowledge of it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes Sir," she resolutely confirmed.
Adama nodded then, satisfied that PO Dualla was telling him the truth. He still suspected that she might have leaked the traffic log to the President through Billy Keikeya, but he knew Dee wasn't lying about the transcripts. "All right Dee. Until further notice, I want all communications to and from the Astral Queen to be brought to my immediate attention, not just included in the daily report."
"Yes Sir," Dualla affirmed.
"In addition, I want to be personally copied on all transmissions leaving Galactica that do not originate from the CIC."
"All transmissions Sir?"
"All of them."
"Yes Sir."
"Thank you Dee. Carry on."
PO Dualla started to leave, then stopped. "Commander, I can check all of the other department logs, just in case..."
"Don't bother," he told her. "You won't find them."
Dualla nodded. "Very well Sir."
Adama walked around to his desk chair and sat down. This latest development was setting off alarm bells in every nerve in his body. Was it possible that the President had been on to something after all? She'd admitted the evidence was weak. It was. Very weak. But if there was even a chance that Tom Zarek was involved, William didn't think it was possible to be too cautious.
Was it possible that Lee really was NOT in denial? Was Zarek behind a plot to kill Lee?
"Why would Zarek want Lee dead?" William wondered out loud. "Because he supports Roslin? He'll oppose Zarek's presidential campaign, certainly. He's a popular figure in the fleet these days. His opinion could sway a lot of voters... especially if Lee goes public with the details of the hostage crisis on the Astral Queen."
But would Zarek risk a murder conspiracy in order to silence one opposing voice? "Why not? He blew up a building just to make a political statement. Human life has no value to him, unless it serves his purposes. And if he thinks that Lee might cost him the election..."
But Zarek didn't sneak aboard Galactica and carry out the deed himself. If this speculation was all true, it meant there was a conspirator on board. And the only thing keeping that conspirator from being revealed was Lee's missing memory.
Adama reached for his phone. "Get me a link to Colonial One," he said. He waited for several seconds while the call was connected. To his considerable surprise, the President herself answered the call. "Madame President?"
"Yes Commander?" she replied, sounding wary even over the phone.
"Lee won't like this," he said, "but please try to make sure that he is well protected while he's there. I know you have a very reliable security team. Please make sure they know that he could be in danger."
There was a long silent pause on the other end of the line.
"Madame President are you there?"
"Yes," came the reply. The surprise in her voice was evident. "I'm here."
"We'll take care of transporting Doctor Marsh to Colonial One for the next few days, so Lee can just stay put. He may be safer just by being on Colonial One but... look after him anyway."
"I uh – I will. He'll be very safe here. I promise."
"Thank you Madame President."
"You're welcome."
William hung up the phone and stared at the handset for a few seconds before chuckling. "Did I really just say all that?"