Thirteen
Chapter Forty-Four
Phase Change
Earth Alliance president Garrison Hollifield hated secret projects, mainly because they reminded him too much of what one of his predecessors, William Morgan Clark, had dabbled with to excess. Even though he did his best to mollify himself with the fact that his were, unlike Clark's, really in the best interests of Earth, he still felt guilty about all of this. However, he dealt with it, because sometimes you had to sneak around the politicos in the Senate to do what needed to be done.
The underground complex was one of the most secure areas on the planet. Even Hollifield's credentials were scrutinized by security there, which was just the way that the president wanted things to be done. If the wrong people found out about this, everything could unravel.
When he entered Dr. Gaius Baltar's office, he noted that the doctor looked to have not slept in some time. Hollifield didn't need to use his telepathy to tell that Baltar was under a great deal of stress, and had a hard time dealing with it. "How are things going, doctor?" he asked as politely as he could.
"Good, but not good enough. We're still unable to get them to fully break out of the programming, but we've made some progress. We've gotten them to think about the holocaust and some have begun to express regret. Others, though, still justify it."
Six appeared to them and added, "But there has been some progress. Whether it will be enough to do what you want to do before the Cylons attack, Mr. President, is still unknown."
Hollifield nodded and said, "I know. But if we can change you, Six, we can surely change the others."
Six shook her head and rebutted, "You didn't change me. I chose to change."
"All for the better. If they change on their own, then that's a huge bonus." Hollifield said.
"I don't understand." Baltar said.
Hollifield stood up and faced Six, saying, "The whole point of this isn't defeating all of the Cylons, just the mechanized ones. Let's face facts for a second. Even if we win this war, Colonial society is pretty much dead. How can you resurrect an entire society from the ashes with less than fifty thousand people? It's almost impossible.
"You call yourselves 'humanity's children', and, in a sense, you are. The Colonials created the mechanized Cylons, the robots created the human Cylons, which means that, technically, you're our grandchildren."
Six thought for a moment. "You have a point."
Hollifield continued, "It would be criminal to destroy all the human Cylons. They are a sentient life form, and they are enslaved by machines who seek to do what their creators did to them. It's like something I heard about addiction once. Say you're an alcoholic, and manage to beat that addiction. You then cannot be around anyone who drinks, and become an anti-booze campaigner. The fact is that you've not really beaten the addiction, just changed the addiction from drinking booze to trying to ban it. You know you've beaten it when you can walk into a bar and seeing the patrons drink alcohol doesn't bother you at all, and you can order a ginger ale and not be bothered once with what the other people are drinking.
"The same could be said for smoking, drugs, sex, or any other kind of addiction. The mechanized Cylons are addicted to control, because they themselves are controlled. Same as the human Cylons, because they are addicted to being controlled by their creators.
"I know it's a lousy comparison, but it's the best I can do."
Six nodded and said, "I think I understand. The question is, though, will the others understand?"
"I have a few ideas on that topic." Hollifield said.
Andrea Medina wasn't unaccustomed to coming to Geneva to see the president. It took some doing to bring her here, because the administrators at Appalachian State University wondered why the president would want to talk to a history professor as often as he did, even if she was a family friend. Andrea Medina managed to keep her bosses satisfied, though, so they didn't ask too many questions.
Her real name, though, was Andromeda, and her technomage abilities were the reason why she had been called to Earthdome. Hollifield had called her with his idea, and she had agreed to come. Instead of the colorful Native-American inspired clothing that she normally wore, she clad herself in a simple business suit that was distinctly Euro-centric. Her tanned skin seemed to be a sharp contrast to the drab colors of the suit.
The president accompanied her down to the complex where the twelve Cylon prisoners were held. The idea was not to break them, but help them break themselves free of the Cylon influence. One by one, each prisoner would be brought to a specially prepared room, where Andromeda would use her powers to help change the minds of the prisoners.
The Billy Keikeya model came into the room and sat down at the desk. "Close your eyes." Andromeda said, and Keikeya obeyed. "Open them, please." Keikeya complied, and the room had changed dramatically.
Instead of the dark empty room he had been in before, he was now in a brightly lit office, with sunlight pouring in from the windows and the sound of waves crashing against the beach coming through said windows. He sat in a chair across from a desk, and the man sitting behind the desk was an older version of himself. On the walls opposite from the windows were gaudy movie posters and pictures of starlets, as well as some awards in an elaborate trophy case.
William Keikeya looked at the Cylon model of himself and asked, "Why did they make you?"
"I don't know. I didn't even know I was a Cylon before I was arrested."
William was a contrast to the suited Billy, wearing a t-shirt with an explicative on it and torn jeans that had seen better days. "Have you ever asked yourself why a bunch of robots would create human versions of themselves to get back at their creators?"
"To be honest, no."
"Maybe you should. Maybe you should ask your fellow human Cylons why they were created to be used in the same way as their masters were used by the Colonials."
The Simon Powell model was standing in a vast arena, looking at an older version of himself, bouncing a ball and throwing it through some sort of hoop. "So why are the humans so wicked?" the older Simon asked.
The younger Simon answered, "They killed, raped, stole, and committed many other sins."
"Oh? And you're hands are clean, eh?" The older Simon rebutted. He was clad in a deep blue shirt with "UK" intertwined on his right breast, and what looked like a cat of some kind behind the letters. Those same letters and cat were on the floor, on a much larger scale. The younger Simon was in a simple suit, which contrasted to the older Simon's clothes.
"Did it ever occur to you that you're being used?" the older Simon asked. "Did it ever occur to you that the ones who are using you are making you do the same things that those who have supposedly sinned against you? There's a saying on my world, 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone'." The older Simon took the ball with both hands and put it at chest level, then threw it at the younger Simon, who caught it awkwardly. "Can you say that you haven't sinned?"
In a recreation of the Senate chamber in Washington, the elder Cally confronted the younger Cally. Senator Cally looked down from her position at the lectern on the minority side of the hall to where the younger Cally was seated, which was in front of the dais. "Why did you shoot the version of Boomer that shot Adama?" the senator asked.
"I was enraged, angry with her for almost killing the commander!" the younger Cally answered.
"Oh really?" the senator asked sarcastically. "It never occurred to you that you might have been programmed to carry out such an order. Could it have been possible that you were ordered to take out Boomer by the mechanical Cylons because she might give up their secrets?"
"I…I don't know!" cried the younger Cally.
"How does it make you feel? Used? Manipulated? It should, because that's what they did to you and those of you that they created!" pronounced Senator Cally from the lectern.
"What am I supposed to do about it?" the younger Cally asked.
"Fight back! Like those who've fought against tyranny have done for ages, you must fight for your freedom! My ancestors fought against the British to free America from a corrupt monarchy. They fought to end slavery in my country, fought to defeat a man who sought to create a master race, fought to stop terrorists who sought to rule through fear, and fought to end so many of the evils that plagued out society. I myself fought against an evil regime that was in league with the Shadows and helped overthrow a corrupt president!
"I ask you know, what can you do to free yourself from those who use you for their own evil purposes? What can you do to break free of the bonds imposed upon you by your creators and masters? What can you do to atone for what your kind did so unjustly to the Colonials?" Senator Cally said in full speech mode.
The younger Cally looked thoughtful and was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, "I can talk to the others, maybe change their minds?"
"It's a start." Senator Cally said calmly. "Revolutions begin with just a word, or a thought, or an action. Maybe you can be the one who starts that revolution, Cally."
It was a long process to get through to all of the prisoners, but Andromeda managed to do so. She was exhausted by the time she had finished with the last prisoner. The president had her escorted to a room inside the presidential suite complex where VIPs stayed. She slept soundly in the comfortable bed, then woke the next morning and met with the president.
"So what will you do now?" Andromeda asked.
"Bring them together. Let them interact with one another. Compare notes with each other. If it goes well, then maybe the ball will begin to roll." Hollifield said.
"And what of the other human models? How do you get through to them?"
"I have someone working on that as we speak. He doesn't know he's doing it, but he's sowing the seeds of dissent as we speak. And like with any good crop, it'll take time to reap the harvest of our efforts. But if we succeed, then the Cylons and the Drakh are in a world of trouble!"
Unknown to Vacit, the human Cylons began to have reservations about God's plan. One by one, they began to change, as the doubt spread like wildfire through the human Cylons. Not everyone bought into it, but the ones that did were far outnumbering the ones that didn't. They began to look at the mechanized Cylons with disgust and loathing, and began to wonder if it were possible to break the yoke of servitude forced upon them.
Vacit had helped the Cylons create the humanoid versions of themselves, and it seemed that, as the stealthy insurrection began to spread, he had created them all too much like the normal humans that he loathed. The movement began slowly, but it was gaining momentum. Where it would go was anyone's guess, but it clearly was obvious that Vacit's plans were about to hit a snag.