The problem, Cottle thought darkly as he looked at his notes, was that there was nothing wrong with Felix Gaeta. While it was humanly possible for a psychotic man to bend metal, it caused damage. There was no way that a man of Gaeta's build could accomplish it without tearing tendons and breaking bone. A psychotic could do it because they simply didn't feel it… but not only had there been no discomfort on Gaeta's part, he had continued to carry on a logical if somewhat angry conversation.
Psychotics didn't do that. Psychotics didn't calmly take the pills either, but Gaeta had. Psychotics generally calmed down a little after taking anti-psychotic meds. A little. Normal people on anti-psychotic meds generally looked like they were napping with their eyes open.
It was a half hour after Gaeta had taken the pills, and Cottle was sure that he hadn't seen the man blink in ten minutes. On the one hand, it meant that it was safe to unlock the cell. On the other, it meant that Gaeta was not reacting the way he was supposed to. Someone crazy enough to call himself a Cylon, try to kill himself and then bend thick metal shackles and chains wasn't supposed to zone out so quickly. There was a slight possibility that he was faking, but Cottle didn't think that was the case.
And that was interesting.
" Lt. Gaeta, I'm opening the cell door now." He unlocked the door and stepped into the cell. Just as he suspected, Gaeta didn't react. Cottle pulled over one of the chairs and took a seat. " How do you feel? Hearing any voices?"
Gaeta blinked. " No. I told… I told you. God's voice stopped when the resurrection ship blew up. I'm not in signal range. I think this medication is too strong." He rubbed his face with his hand. " I feel numb."
" We'll fiddle with the dosage. Right now it's better to be a little overmedicated than under medicated." Cottle leaned back in the chair. " We need to set a few ground rules on how we're going to handle this."
" I am not crazy." Gaeta said it quietly but forcefully.
" You tried to kill yourself with pills and alcohol. That alone indicates you aren't the king of rational behavior." Cottle let himself enjoy the nicotine rush from the cigarette for a moment. " You also quite cleverly used the Admiral's notorious tendency to blast away at Cylons as a back up plan. So I know you planned this. You're insisting that you're a Cylon even after you've been thoroughly tested. I can't help but consider the possibility that you're insisting on this… fantasy because you understand how inflammatory it is, that one of your well meaning, ignorant shipmates will blow your head off thinking that you're their ticket to hero status."
" I am a Cylon. Dr. Baltar is lying to protect me. I broke those shackles with my bare hands. I don't know what I can do to prove this to you." Gaeta rubbed his fingers, a repetitive motion that Cottle recognized. The medication had side effects, and the numb sensation and repetitive motion meant that Gaeta probably wouldn't be so willing to take it again, but that was a problem for later.
" Maybe you can't prove it, because you aren't a Cylon." He wasn't a psychiatrist, and it had been a long time since the medical school rotation. " Lt. Gaeta, you've been relieved of duty for medical reasons. You're confined to sick bay until I decide you're no longer actively suicidal or until you're medically discharged. If you are medically discharged, it isn't likely to have pleasant consequences for you."
Gaeta looked at him intently. " What does that mean?"
" Triage sucks. That's what it means." Cottle inhaled deeply. " There is one doctor for forty nine thousand people in this fleet. That means I don't have unlimited time to figure out what's wrong with you. It's not safe to let you walk around right now. You certainly are intent on hurting yourself, you might be violent towards others in order to achieve your goal, and we can't let someone who is violently disturbed run around free."
" I'm not violently disturbed." Gaeta said after a moment of thought.
" Shut up." Cottle waited to see if he would react. He didn't, except to look down at his feet. Good, Cottle thought, maybe something will sink in. " You need to understand what your future looks like right now. If I don't clear you for duty, it will be because I consider you too dangerous to yourself and others. Do you like how you feel right now? Because you're currently enjoying a lower dosage than what I give the other violent psychotics and the pills are mandatory in the Astral Queen's lockdown. It's not a pleasant place, Felix. You get a cell that's smaller than this and you don't get to leave. I can't afford to waste hours of every day trying to get you to not be crazy. If you don't get better, you'll get thrown away. We don't have the resources to save someone who doesn't want to be saved."
Gaeta was silent for a long moment. "Then give me what I want. It doesn't have to be so drawn out. It isn't like I want you to waste time and resources. I don't deserve it."
" Then do it right." Cottle pulled out his service pistol. It occurred to him that Gaeta was still making good sense despite the drugs. Deep down, he didn't consider it a waste of time to treat the mentally ill, but he wasn't lying about the options Gaeta was facing. There weren't that many truly disturbed people in the fleet, and they didn't live in pleasant circumstances. He wasn't lying on that point. There just wasn't enough time in the day to give the poor shattered minds more than medical maintenance.
Gaeta, however, didn't seem shattered. Nothing about his demeanor was odd. Cottle had asked around and had not been surprised to hear that no one had noticed any strange behavior or any signs of depression. The more he talked to Gaeta, the more he didn't see any indication that he was talking to someone who was lost in a fantasy.
Which agreed with his theory, and his experiment. He put the gun in Gaeta's hands. " Go ahead. I won't stop you. I'll just say I was foolishly wearing a gun and thought you were sedated. You took the gun from me and shot yourself. Problem solved." He waited a moment, noting that beads of perspiration suddenly dotted Gaeta's forehead." Go on. I'm not going to stop you. The gun is loaded."
Gaeta hefted the pistol. His hands shook. Then he set the gun down. " I'm not allowed. There's a rule. I broke all of the other rules, but I can't… I can't break this one."
Cottle took the gun back. " I have two theories, Lt. Gaeta. The first is that you're not truly suicidal, just frakked up from job stress. That's the pleasant theory."
"And what is the unpleasant theory?" Gaeta almost whispered it. His hands shook.
Cottle took a deep drag, savoring it. " Sharon couldn't kill herself either. I read the reports on the Pegasus Cylon. She certainly had more than enough reason to kill herself but didn't. And you're not an idiot. You could have made yourself a nice lethal drug cocktail. Instead you asked me about drugs, and carefully orchestrated a plan that should have ended with you dead by Admiral Adama's hand. You aren't allowed. That theory, if it is correct, leaves us with a very big problem."
" That I am a Cylon," Gaeta said.
" That too," Cottle said amiably. " But here's our bigger problem, Lt. Gaeta. Why would Dr. Baltar lie about it?"
" I have no idea."
" Neither do I. And I am not entirely convinced you're a Cylon. But clearly we need to investigate this a little bit harder."