First a huge apology for not posting in so long. There was an end of the semester hustle at the end of Spring and in July a surgery, which recovery should have taken one week, but, because of severe and life-threatening complications, has lasted now over a month. I was on bed rest for an insane 20 days, and way too tired and weak to even think about what I would write.

I am starting only to be better this past week and, of course, time did not stop for me, and I had various important tasks which needed my immediate attention as soon as I was well enough.

I have only a few days now to take my daughter to college and get ready for the new academic year! Hopefully I will be able to get some more writing done. Where has the summer gone? Vacation? Did anyone say vacation?

As always I do not own BSG 2003, and I am just playing with the characters, as creative writing. The contemporary story is mine only.

The good thing is that you are getting a really long chapter, and it was worth the wait. It is possible I missed some mistakes, if you point them to me I will fix them, thank you.

Please leave me some comments, they are very motivating.

Chapter 42

A few days later, the researchers got invited into the villages of the colonies in preparation for the Quorum meeting, and Elosha announced to them that they would first hike to Gemenon village and meet the elders there. Evelyne and Liang decided to stay behind at the camp, as Evelyne wanted to process more DNA samples and Liang was mapping the various houses in the village and the caves nearby. The goal was to get an accurate map of the passages and to document cultural artifacts found in the village. He already had evidence of many interactions with other cultures dating often over a thousand years ago. The Caprican population had accumulated objects, statues and pottery from world wide ancient civilizations. For any archeologist, it was a real treasure as those were kept in pristine conditions. Liang had made an extensive photographic catalogue. Evelyne and he had established very good relationship with the population. With the help of Sharon, who was translating, they collected stories and visited homes. Helena had noticed that Evelyne and Liang had become quite close and she was happy for them. Liang was an avid photographer and he took beautiful pictures of the population and the stone carved houses in the caves. Helena reflected on the beauty of this place, the old carved stones, hand woven baskets, woolen rugs and animal skins lining the floors, and transforming each house into comfortable homes. The people had books, which had been hand written and passed from generation to generation. They were in the original language and Helena could not wait until she could read one of them. Their culture was rich and untouched by the modern world. Their level of literacy was very high, as each child was taught to read and write in their language; traditions were passed from generation to generation. As they packed, Helena took the spare digital camera to take pictures of the Gemenon village, promising Liang to thoroughly document their trip in his absence. Evelyne gave her a set of DNA collecting kits, where she would be able to use on the Gemenese population, provided they were allowed to. After packing other supplies, and sleeping bags, as well as their charged computers, John, Takashi and Helena, guided by Elosha started the long hike towards Gemenon. They made their ways through tunnels in the caves, some of them clearly natural others seemed to have been carved. There were many branches and various intersecting tunnels. Takashi looked at Helena, and they both knew that they would never find their ways back through such a labyrinth; the possibilities of hidden caves and passages were endless. It would take years to explore every single passage and possibly find new artifacts. Indeed, as they progressed, the researchers realized that such a complex tunnel system, very much like an underground giant city with subways, had taken centuries in the making. Helena kept on taking pictures of each tunnel and intersection. There were no markings on any of the walls and they wondered how the people didn't get lost. It was a burning question that Helena asked a little while into the hike.

"How do you find your way among so many tunnels?"

Elosha turned to her with a smile and her blue eyes sparkling.

"Well, observe carefully! Each tunnel is different, the rock changes, the moss and water running on the stone changes. They have a different shapes." She claimed showing the roof of the long corridor they were in. Light was filtering through cracks, indicating they were along the edge of the mountain.

"Where do the other tunnels lead to?" Takashi asked.

"We do have dry storage for grains and some of our foods. We also have access to our underwater river. Some tunnels go to clearings where we cultivate rice, beans, yams, barley, cassava and other plants."

"Do you share the cultivation with other villages?" Helena inquired.

"Yes, we have to. We are cooperating for our survival and exchange goods." Elosha replied as she continued walking forward.

"Some of the writings did mention that the early colonists suffered from widespread death in the early days. What happened?" Helena asked.

"They had created the cylons. They were war machines, programmed to kill and destruct." Elosha shook her head, tears in her eyes. "They used them to spread hate and violence against other people, against other colonies. But the cylon rebelled and there was a bloody war. They signed an armistice and peace came back. But the Caprican government continued spreading hate. The cylons came back, they decided that humanity was not worth surviving and they destroyed all twelve colonies. The thirteenth colony was far away. Nobody knew exactly where it was anymore. When the colonists finally found earth, the thirteen colony, one of the earliest decision had been to discard all of the science and technology that produced the cylons, for fear that civilization once again would develop hate and war." Elosha sighed. "As you know the prophecy says that all of this would happen again. Unfortunately, without science and technology the colonists, who had spread in small groups over the planet, encountered rough times. Unable to predict the weather patterns, their early agriculture failed. They succumbed to famine, disease and natural disasters. They fought with native populations. After terrible few years and lots of deaths, whole groups of the original colonists took their belongings and came back here where they originally landed. They regrouped all of their resources and founded these villages, which kept on growing as centuries went by. That is all in the book of Hera. Hera became the head of the quorum and reinstituted some laws and rules based on those of the original colonies. She was the architect of our recovery."

"Cylons came back?" Takashi inquired.

"They did, once, very early on. Their attack on the thirteenth village left only a few survivors who joined the other colonies and stayed there. It was a brief attack. Once the village was destroyed, they withdrew. We moved then into the caves and made them hospitable."

"Have you retrieved and kept the original technology of the colonists? You said they returned to their landing point…" John intervened, eager to learn more. Elosha turned sharply to him, studying the younger man as she was pondering her reply.

"We have kept some. It is secure. Only the village chiefs know about it. We are not interested in using it for aggressive endeavors. We are people of peace." Helena laced her hand to Takashi and they looked at each other, understanding the wisdom of Elosha. So much unsaid meaning was carried in their concerned gaze. John continued to walk deep in reflection.

After what seemed hours, stepping through forest clearings and entering other tunnels, they arrived in another village, also located within the mountain. The village was much smaller than Caprica and there were fewer inhabitants. At first glance, the population also seemed less diverse than in Caprica. The chief of Gemenon, Rya, greeted them; she was an older woman, short and heavier set. Her skin was dark and her curly hair was kept very short. She was wearing heaving brass jewelry. She had a welcoming warm smile. Elosha and the Gemenese chief, Rya, exchanged some greetings in their language. Although Helena was getting more and more familiar with the pronunciation of the words she had spent so much time decrypting and working on, she had trouble understanding the Gemenese woman, because of what seemed like a heavy accent. As the day drew to an end, the group was welcome around a nice campfire for an evening meal with selected members of the village. The cave was engineered such that the smoke was vertically pulled through an opening at the roof of the cave. As they were eating, Elosha informed Rya of some of the researcher's discoveries, the grave of Laura Roslin and books, she said, one of them written by Laura. Rya brought her hands to her mouth in a prayer sign when she heard the name of Laura, as tears pooled in her eyes. When Elosha mentioned that Helena was able to understand the language and had successfully translated the book, Helena felt immediately the surprised and inquisitive look that Rya gave her, turning in her direction with focus and interest. Helena, as Elosha introduced her, was Laura's messenger coming back to them after so many millenia. Elosha mentioned that Helena was close to Takashi, just like Laura had been close to the Admiral. It was said in her language and Helena felt a slow blush rise to her face. She did not translate the pointed comment to Takashi. Rya observed Helena, who smiled shyly at this unusual description. After their meal, Elosha explained the Caprica and Gemenon used to be twin colonies close to one another. Gemenese were a very religious community, Elosha explained. They worshiped the polytheistic faith, which originated on Kobol and the old scriptures. And both women explained that the whole population was coming from the planet Kobol, and separated into twelve colonies. Helena already had read about this in Laura's diary. She was fascinated by these stories. Twelve colonies were all in the same star system, which contained several stars. Caprica and Gemenon revolved around the same star as a binary system of twin planets sharing the same orbit.

"What about the thirteenth colony. You mentioned that nobody knew where it was?" Helena asked.

Strained looks were exchanged between the two chiefs and several members of the community.

Elosha replied gently. "This is a topic of discussion we avoid talking about. But you do not know our customs, so I will explain that the thirteenth colony was the last one to leave Kobol and they moved into a different star system. According to the scriptures, you are on it, it is Earth.

Rya added, "According to our history, when the cylons destroyed the twelve colonies, the survivors of the human civilization searched for the thirteenth colony. The book of Pythia gave clues how to find it. Laura was the Dying Leader who led us to it. And now her voice has returned."

Takashi nodded, looking at Helena. Another set of strained looks was exchanged between members of the community and Helena could not prevent herself from thinking that there was more to the story that they were recounting. They decided not to push for information. Instead Helena started to question them about their religion. Rya, relieved by the change in the conversation, explained in details all of their mythology.

"We have found in our research some writings in a book, which seemed older. I have not been able to translate it. I was hoping you would be able to help me. The book looks like a prayer book." Helena stated and she passed a set of pictures to Rya. Rya's face illuminated with the brightest smile.

"This is written in ancient Gemenese! This is the book of Pythia!" Rya looked astonished. "I have not seen such an old Gemenese book ever. The ones we have are copies and also translations".

"Can you read it?" Helena asked, excited.

"Well, this is a very old language and I can read some of it. But I don't possess a full fluency in this language. We do have translations, which you are welcome to read. I think it will help you with the ancient text."

Helena was beaming with excitement and plans were made for the following day to study these old texts.

As the evening progressed, the guests were led to two carved stone houses inside the large cave. The villagers bowed respectfully to Helena and Takashi and gave them private accommodations in one of the houses. John was offered a room nearby. The old house was carved in the face of the cave; it had a door and opened windows, and more rooms were carved inside stonewalls. Fabrics were lining the ground and walls, adding a sense of comfort. The air was cool and did not bear the humidity of the atmosphere outside of the caves. Oil lamps were burning in small niches in the walls, projecting a soft light. Elosha led Takashi and Helena to a room. The room was so comfortable that they hardly needed their sleeping bags. There were woven blankets on top of a mattress filled with straw and leaves. The colors of the blankets were beautiful with intricate patterns they had seen in other houses in the Caprica village. Elosha retired for the night and Takashi and Helena were left alone.

"What did they say before? By the campfire?" Takashi inquired softly. "I sensed you were somehow uncomfortable."

Helena sat on the mattress, and hummed at its softness.

"They suggested we are a couple, like Laura and Bill. That is probably why we earned such a beautiful room." She whispered looking down.

"Oh!" he replied softly. "What are we really?" She looked up at him. He was pensive. "Are we just very close friends, who have known each other over thirty years and who occasionally kiss?" he added.

"I don't know" she replied, as tears filled her eyes.

"You know, Helena, when my wife and son died, I thought I would never survive. I had no desire to. I isolated myself from the world. I moved in a small village in Hokkaido Island, in the mountains. I stayed two years there. The winters were dreadful and life was very tough. I collected my mail only once a week. I painted. I meditated. I walked long hikes in the mountains. I was waiting for death. It never came. And slowly, the nature around me brought me solace. It made me realize how beautiful our world was, how important it was that we keep it that way. Then my university called me with this project. They said I was the only one who could undertake such a study. I was needed. And I decided to come out of my retreat."

"I cannot compete with such a love, Takashi. I am… not like your wife used to be." She stumbled a little bit.

"Of course not. You are different. You are you. One love doesn't prevent another. They both can exist. One is in the past. It is just a very tender and soft memory. One is in the present."

She looked in his eyes at this declaration of love, unable to speak. She opened her mouth, hesitant to reply, unsure of what she should say.

"There is no rush. Just think about it…" He said as he kissed her on the cheek and lay on the bed next to her. Helena had trouble falling asleep. She got up and blew two of the three lanterns and lay back next to him. Sighing deeply, she finally closed her eyes.

"The next day was another treatment and I went in early. I was surprised to wake up alone. Apparently Bill was already gone to CIC when I got up and I had not heard him at all. It was unusual for him to leave without saying goodbye, I could not be sure if he just wanted to let me sleep or if he was avoiding me. We had not really talked after the events of the day, yesterday and that, in itself, was unusual. I arrived in sickbay alone, without having heard from Bill. Upon hearing how I had been sick the day before, Dr. Cottle immediately prescribed an antiemetic to prevent vomiting. He was sure to let me know that it probably would lessen it but may not stop it completely. Once in a while, I wished he would lie to me. This time I took some work with me, but I was so tired by the previous day that I just closed my eyes and rested as the poison was slowly dripping in to my vein. The Doloxan infusion itself was quite painful and several times Ishay had to lower the speed of the infusion as the vein was getting irritated and was throbbing with pain. Ishay confirm that the smaller vein of the wrist was more sensitive to the irritating liquid.

'That's what happens' she said, 'when you have to stick in a region filled with nerves.' A warm compress over my hand relieved some of the pain.

'Keep it there, as long as you can!' Ishay said, as she retreated. Holding the warm cloth over my left wrist prevented me to read or write. Nausea crept back into my throat and I eyed the basin left on the side table for that purpose. Fortunately, I did not vomit, but the wave of discomfort remained in my upper body as I was struggling to regain my breath and let it pass, blowing slowly through my tight lips. When I reopened my eyes, only five minutes had passed on the clock hanging on the farther wall. Five minutes! Time stood still. I was feeling alternating rushes of heat and cold. I took on observing the environment of sickbay with its old blue green walls, maybe a dull kind of grey, so dirty the color could not be determined. Paint was peeling in places. The curtain giving me a pretense of privacy was made from old yellowing plastic, which was fraying where it had been folded so many times. The place was starting to disintegrate, like my body. The Galactica was old, falling apart truly. How long would we be able to survive on these old ships? I did not even want to raise the question, since there was no other alternative. Only finding Earth. Earth! Kara claimed to know the way. How could we be sure it was not a cylon trap? How could we know if she was right? Could I be wrong, when I was simply following the signs all along? I closed my eyes. Another wave of nausea! I tried to breathe slowly, focusing on my breath. In, hold, out, repeat. Not again. No. I blindly reached for the basin, when I felt a soft, but strong, hand supporting my back. Dr. Cottle held my hair out of the way. He promptly offered me some water.

'So much for that antiemetic!' I scolded him gently, in a strangled whisper.

He grumbled, 'I could give you a stronger dose, but then you will get really drowsy.'

I lay back on the bed with a sigh and I was fully expecting him to be gone soon to tend to other patients. When I reopened my eyes, I was shocked to see he had stayed, sitting down on a nearby chair and reading my chart.

'How are you doing?'

'Well, Doctor, as you could see, I was doing just fine throwing up a few minutes ago.' I replied my voice dripping with exasperated sarcasm.

'Yesterday, Kara pointed a gun on you and then you attempted to shot her. That was after the trial and Gods know that took a toll on you. You are alone today here, getting treatment. So I repeat, how are you doing?'

I lowered my head.

'As good as I can be.' I replied softly, defeated, unwilling to put up a fight with him.

Then I looked at him again. 'Kara's exam? Could you tell anything? I mean, you have had plenty of opportunities to examine cylons in the past few months, and even on New Caprica.'

He sighed, pensive for a moment, closed the chart and put it back down.

'Madame President, on New Caprica, when someone arrived at my hospital bleeding from a gun shot to the abdomen and screaming in pain, I did not look at whether they were cylons or humans. I put my gloves on and got their blood on me, and tried to save their frakking lives. All of them wanted to live. Nobody wanted to suffer.'

'The cylons are out to destroy us. You saw what they did on New Caprica.'

'Yes, I did. And I also saw sentient beings, who suffered and didn't want to. If Kara is a cylon, then she was one from the beginning. Nothing has changed. She could have destroyed us a long time ago; Gods know she had many opportunities to do so and we would never have known the difference.'

'What are you saying, Doctor?'

'They called me down to the brig and I injected her with some narcotics. She was agitated. She was screaming. She is Kara. The question is who is Kara?' He said, lifting an eyebrow in my direction.

'I can't take the chance that she will betray us. I can't take that chance!' I repeated, stubborn.

'You're the President!' He grumbled, raising from the chair and leaving my side of the bed. Clearly my answer did not satisfy him and I was not in the mood to play games. What was I supposed to do? We all saw the original Kara die in the explosion of her ship. She came back in a brand new ship! Forget about being alive, the ship did not have a scratch. The computer memory was blank! That was physical and material evidence that the ship was duplicated. The only beings capable of doing such a task were cylons. Although I do have to admit that it is unusual and that we never saw anything like it before. But cylons have shown us over the years that they can come with more and more devious plans. What am I supposed to do, nothing? Just sit there waiting for her to act? She came into Bill's quarters armed, and pointed a gun at me. All of those who had been close to Kara and mourned her deeply are now just on her side, regardless of the evidence. And the evidence is glaring. They rather have her back, acting on faith. Indeed the cylons had a very efficient and devious plan, to divide us on the inside, over a beloved woman, a fierce fighter. We keep her alive; she can betray us and strike. We airlock her and resentment will build in our ranks and trigger disquiet. We put her in the brig and she becomes a martyr. There is no solution to this problem. We are stuck. We are divided. This is brilliant strategy. A lose-lose strategy! After all of these years, we will be reduced to self-destruct for Kara! Ishay interrupted my thoughts to take my blood pressure.

'Wow, quite high! You have to relax Madame President!' she said with a smile. She retreated quickly at the look I gave her. Relax?!"

"The infusion lasted another hour and, quite weak, I was escorted by my guard back to Bill's quarters. It looked like he had not come back. Everything was as I left it. The guard told me he would bring some lunch a bit later and I thanked him for his help. The silence was deafening. The background noise of the ship echoed within the room. It was dark. I turned on a couple of lights. Then I saw it: the model ship, that Bill destroyed the night Kara had been killed. The broken model had moved from the shelf to Bill's desk. The little statue of Aurora, which Kara gave her, lay on the table by the ship like an afterthought. So, I was wrong, Bill came back after all, even if he didn't move anything around or simply leave a note, like he sometimes would. He was there long enough to sit and contemplate the little statue she gave him. I sighed. Bill was going through his own crisis. His reluctance to speak with me about it was telling, since he probably knew what my opinion was already. He avoided me, clearly. I kept on thinking about the conversation with Dr. Cottle. He wanted to tell me something and I was growing frustrated at the puzzle. He did not understand that I had to consider the safety of the fleet first! I picked a book in the shelf and tried to read. I was distracted by my own thoughts. I put the book back. I hated to doubt myself. I have been doing a lot of that lately. It seemed everything had been torn and shaken to its core. My certitude, what I believed to be true, took a life on its own, became twisted, deformed by the recent events. Baltar found not guilty, Kara coming back from the death, cylon? Not cylon? And this shadow crawling in my mind that was telling me that I was missing something important, that I didn't understand my vision anymore, that maybe I never understood it. Doubt… and death. The death inside my body. Looking around in the empty room, dimly lit, I felt suddenly alone. All of these years, I had been busy trying to save the human race. Decision after decision, I was surrounded by friends and helpers: at the beginning, Wally, Lee and of course Billy, my poor Billy. On New Caprica, Maya confided in me, Dr. Cottle was always there. Wally, Billy and Maya were dead. I didn't understand Cottle anymore… And then Bill, Bill was not there today, when I needed him. I was alone. Bill had not shared his ideas since the trial. A shift in our relationship, a fault, a crack. Bill could not get over Kara's death. He had betrayed me, and it hurt. He voted for Baltar's acquittal and he was ready to take Kara's side. I could tell it in his eyes, in the way he was looking at her, unable to let go of the young woman who was by all means his daughter. She was dead. This was the ultimate torture. It would tear us apart. It hurt like a blade in my heart. I had opened up to him. I allowed myself to be vulnerable in his presence. A soft knock on the hatch brought me back to reality. I assumed it was lunch when I said 'Come in' without moving from the couch.

'Madame President?'

I turned swiftly to the voice, Lee Adama. Lee had betrayed me too. It must be a family trait. I lost my balance trying to get up and defeated sat back down. He moved inside the quarters, turning on more lights. I saw him take in the room, assessing it, evaluating it: my jacket thrown carelessly on the back of a chair, my shoes abandoned in the middle of the sleeping area, the bed undone, his father's tanks and shorts on the dresser, my pajamas on the bed covers, a book left opened on the side table, sheets rumpled, pillow tousled. All were indications of a domestic life between his father and I, sharing the same bed. A slow blush crept on his cheeks. He cleared his throat. I could read his disdain on his face.

'Madame President, I wanted to inform you that I am seeking the Caprica delegate's vacant position on the Quorum. Mr. Zarek nominated me. I will be leaving permanently the military. I feel my skills will be better used in politics.'

It was a well rehearsed little speech.

'Oh, I have no doubt about that' I replied not without sarcasm. Zarek, of course, played the politics of dividing us even more; Lee was used again against his father and me. I looked at him; he was cold and distant. I could feel the weight of his disapproval in his demeanor, maybe even a hint of jealousy. I had become the enemy, the woman who took his father away from him. I did not believe this to be true, but I surely thought that was how he perceived it.

'Very well, Mr. Adama, thank you for letting me know.' It was a cold dismissal.

'Madam President…' a hesitation, guilt maybe? Embarrassment? A poorly attempted excuse?

I looked at him, piercing through his soul, my voice as sharp as a knife.

'No, Mr. Adama, you made your choice.' He turned around and left, bumping into the guard who was bringing lunch in. Lunch for one.

The noodles in the broth immediately brought back nausea. I'd better not continue eating, not sure my stomach would tolerate it…It didn't. There was something incredibly isolating by being alone in the head, retching. I knew Bill would not come. He had not called. I would have liked him to be there. Gods, I was being so needy, pathetic, indeed. I hated this disease that made us be so dependent on others, looking endlessly for support. I hated that I needed him. He had voted for Baltar; he was ready to absolve Kara. And I needed him still.

I lay down finally on the inviting bed and fell asleep. The loud buzzer of the phone woke me up suddenly. I was disoriented. The clock indicated the evening.

'Madame President, would you like some dinner?'

'No, thank you. I'm fine'

Dinner? When I could not even finish my lunch without throwing up. I got up, adjusted my blouse and, a bit stronger, I went to get my work. There was a lot of reports to be read and signed, a lot of documents to be edited, and so… so many papers. The thing about being sick and president is that time did not stop for me. My duties were still there whether I was able to perform or not. Work was piling up. How long would I be able to do this? A couple of days in treatment only, and the pile was already getting huge. Well I had two choices only, fret about it or dig in and start working. That is what I did, because ultimately this problem would not go away. I spread my files on the large dining room table, turned on the light and started working. I was so focused on my work, that I did not even see how much time had passed, when I heard the hatch open. It was quite late now. I heard Bill stumble through the dark living room section, his heavy step unmistakable. The pungent smell of alcohol reached me immediately, dangerously close to trigger a new wave of nausea. He was very drunk. He did not even say hello, or ask me how things went today. No, not a personal word. He went right to the alcohol cart to pour himself more liquor. He downed the amber liquid as fast as he had filled the glass, walked around and went right back for a second. As if he did not have enough! I had an immediate flashback to my family. I did not want to think about it, but I did. A drunk driver killed them in a car accident. An alcoholic, not unlike Bill, was a middle age man, which ended up in jail for killing my father, my two sisters and her unborn baby. Since then, I had the strongest repulsion for those who drink excessively. I was hurt. I could not believe that after all of our struggles Bill would let himself go like this.

'You're enjoying that more than usual!' I stated, reproaching.

'Hair of the dog, Lee's party!' he claimed while refilling his glass. I had to snort at that, remembering the little display of Lee earlier in the day and of course his actions at the trial. Now they were throwing him a party? Less than two days and everything was forgotten? Forgiven? Well then…

'What do we do now? Put her on trial? Find Romo Lampkin? Take a show of hands?' I was sarcastic, spitting the name of the lawyer with disdain. He had manipulated Lee. He had manipulated all of them, including Bill.

'I don't know' He replied.

'Follow her into an ambush?' I added, making clear where I stood, because that would undoubtedly happen.

'She's driven' and he continued stumbling around the room, walking aimlessly as confusingly as his thoughts.

'Yeah!' I did agree with the fact that Kara would not stop at anything to get what she wanted and that made her even more dangerous in our current situation. He kept on walking around with his glass of alcohol restlessly. I knew he wanted to talk. He knew I would not agree with his ideas.

'Are you going to keep waltzing? Or are you going to sit down and talk.' I was getting increasingly irritated with him. 'What's going on? Sit' I ordered sharply. He stopped in his tracks and sat next to the table by me, cradling his glass, which he placed on the table. I drank some water, waiting for him to talk.

'What if she is telling the truth?' He mumbled. 'She was supposed to die out there. She didn't. I can't explain it. What if she was meant to help us? And this was a…' He hesitated and sighed heavily. His eyes were glassy from drunkenness. So here it was. Did he dare to wave some metaphysical bullshit in front of me? Despite all of the evidence? When he was the one who declared his atheism in face of my visions, way back when I started having them?

'A what? A miracle?' I answered with sarcasm. He looked at me his gaze cloudy.

'Is that what you want to call this?' I added cynical. 'Go ahead and say it. Grab your piece of the golden arrow. I want to hear Admiral atheist say that a miracle happened…'

'You shot at her and missed at close range.' That was his only rationale? His explanation?

'Doloxan fraks with your aim.' I said, sighing.

'So does doubt!' He replied.

I had been feeling so sick when she came into Bill's quarter. My glasses had been off; my vision had been blurry. I was suffering then from a splitting headache and nausea. Yes, I missed. How could he blame it on doubt, when I barely could stand? He was drinking more out of his half empty glass.

'I pulled the trigger and I'd do it again. She put her life in front of a bullet like it had no meaning. You drop an egg, you reach for another.' I was cynical and I was determined. If Kara was a danger to us, she needed to go. As a president, I had to make the tough and unpopular choices, and this one was certainly a difficult one. Seeing how Bill was entranced by her, and how it would undermine our unity, tearing us apart, made me even more determined to silence her. I was seeing clearly how her presence would instill doubt, mistrust and division. To see Bill suffer so hopelessly in front of this woman was more than enough to anger me. I was angry with him for falling so easily into this trap.

'Maybe, convincing you meant to her more than her own life.' So, now, he was looking for excuses.

'Is that your miracle? You want to talk about miracles?' I replied, incensed.

'On the very same day that a very pale doctor informed me that I had terminal cancer, most of humanity was annihilated and I survived, and by some mathematical absurdity I became president, and then my cancer disappeared long enough for us to find a way to Earth. You can call it whatever you want.' I said to him, as my anger was flaring up. So many things had happened and we could not even explain how we survived that long under such conditions. It was all so ironic. It was all so senseless. We were a handful of humans surviving in deplorable conditions. I had survived longer that I was meant to, and for what?

'And now, I'm dying.' I added, simply, just because it was the truth. We both knew that there would be no recovery this time. We knew that the Doloxan was just a bandage. My cancer was terminal; it was crawling inside my body. I knew it. Dr. Cottle knew it. Doloxan was just here to gain time, a few precious days maybe, and for what? Really for what? For hope… for Bill. Because that night, when I found out about the cancer and he held me in his arms, I promised him to seek treatment. I promised him, because I wanted him to hope. I knew it was hopeless.

'Don't talk that way.' He mumbled.

I was in no mood to spare his feelings anymore. What was he thinking? Was he deluding himself into believing that there would be a happy ending? A miracle? A cured and healthy Laura that he could have next to him on Earth to become old by his side, in a cabin by a lake? Like a gushy romantic fairy tale, our own private little corner of paradise? I had bile rise to my mouth and my eyes were filling with tears. He needed to understand that this would not happen. I was just a dream. I was dying and there would be no miracles for me. Just like there had not been any miracles for Kara. No, it was not a miracle, there was a logical explanation and we just had not found it yet. Of course the most obvious and logical explanation was that somehow the cylons were involved. But Bill… Bill wanted to believe I would survive. Bill wanted to believe Kara was real. Bill was losing everyone. All of his lifelines were of a sudden sinking. His hopes were destroyed; they were just an emptiness growing inside him, which he was drowning in the amber liquid at the bottom of his glass.

'Bill, you gotta face this. My life is coming to an end soon enough and I'm not going to apologize to you for not trusting her. And I'm not...I'm not gonna trust her with the fate of this fleet.' My voice was strong and determined.

I sighed and looked at the distraught man in front of me, drunk, miserable, heartbroken. 'You are so buckled up inside. You can't take any more loss. Your son's leaving, this, me, I know it.' I pointed at the bandage on my wrist, where the IV had been placed. I would leave him. I was going to die. Kara was a mirage. Lee had changed and showed his true colors, betraying the image his father had of him, betraying him, betraying me, betraying his own destiny. Lee was not who we thought he was. He had molded himself over the years on his father's expectations, indeed a well-rehearsed show of the perfect son, but this wasn't who he was. He finally had broken free and become his own person.

'No one's going anywhere.' Bill stubbornly refused to see the reality, refusing to let go. He was pathetic, just like a child clinging on his fairy tale. I had to laugh at this, not because I wanted to make fun of him, no, just because I found him so innocent, so puerile, and so terribly sad. He had to understand. I could not let him get away with his irrational beliefs. I was blinking away tears, as my defenses crumbled.

A couple of tears spilled on the side of my nose. I did not even bother wiping them off. I added: 'Okay. Here's the truth. This is what's going on. You want to believe Kara. You would rather be wrong about her and face your own demise than risk losing her again.'

He looked at me long and hard, as my words made their way into his inebriated consciousness, slowly like a knife. He knew I was right. His shocked look told me so.

'You can stay in the room, but...get out of my head.' He stood up and poured himself another drink, alcohol, to numb his feelings and the emptiness he felt. I knew I had touched the core of his despair. I could not let go.

'You're so afraid to live alone.' I simply reflected, almost for myself. He had not moved, still standing by the alcohol cart.

He replied 'And you're afraid to die that way.' I nodded slightly. Yes, I was afraid of death and the loneliness we all face when it happens. There would not be anyone for me. There would be nobody left to remember me. He continued, his voice low, treacherous and unforgiving. He was conscious enough to formulate his thoughts clearly, and maybe too drunk to realize how hurtful they were.

'You're afraid you may not be the dying leader you thought you were. Or that your death may be as meaningless as everyone else's.' It was cruel and it was true. I had probed rightly his mind and he was destroying my own reality. With two sentences he had ripped my soul raw. And it hurt. It hurt so much. I heard the hatch slamming as he left. I had no one. I was alone, completely alone. He was gone. My throat was tight and my chest heaving under the pain he inflicted me, trying to impossibly control the sobs rising inside my body and my eyes burning with tears. I pretended to go back and read my work again, put on my glasses, but I just could not focus on the written pages. No. I just could think of what he had said. 'Your death may be as meaningless as everyone else's.' Meaningless, just like blimp in the universe, nothing important. All of these efforts to stay alive, to save humanity, to find Earth… reduced to nothing in one simple word: meaningless… I bit my lips. I did not want to break down. It would be too easy. I wanted to hide, disappear like a little kid, under the covers. Was I really a fraud? The Dying Leader, like Elosha had said, who would lead the path to Earth. I never had been religious. Then I had those visions, enabled by the Chamalla extract, and I believed those visions. Maybe after all I really wasn't the Dying Leader and I had misled the people into believing so. Yes, maybe my life and my death had been meaningless. Maybe, I was nothing more than a very sick woman, who had betrayed so many around her, from my personal relationships to my leadership. That is what Bill had said in one word, didn't he? I was shaking inside from the pain he inflicted me. It hurt more than physical pain. I felt the walls constricting around me, as I was breathing shallow. Unconsciously, I started to twist strands of my hair in my fingers, just like I used to do when I was a kid, when I needed comfort. The hair came loose. For a second, I did not understand, shocked to find strands of hair in my hand. Then I realized that my hair had started falling. As I looked stunned at the hair in my hand, my throat contracted painfully. I put down my glasses and I let myself cry, sobbing without control, feeling completely alone. Yes, I would die alone and before that my body would dissolve piece after piece. Alone, meaningless and irrelevant. Bill made sure I knew that. I wept loudly and without restrain until I was exhausted and only raw pain was left behind a pounding headache. I was empty. I ran my hands in my hair and gathered more loose strands, which I gathered in a little pile on top of my files. I used to love my hair, its wonderful warm brown with powerful red highlights. In the sun, it used to glow like fire. I would never feel the sun in my hair again. I couldn't believe how vain I was. A handful of human survivors were slowly dying inside worn out ships and I was crying about my hair. I discarded my clothes on the floor and put my pajamas. I thought laying down would bring me some relief, but, as soon as I smelled Bill's scent in the pillow, fresh tears started to flow. I did not try to stop them."

"I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up later to a loud clatter of shattering glass and Bill swearing 'Frak'. Completely drunk, he had fallen down, probably tripped on my clothes, and knocked down the water carafe he had on the table. I saw his shadow in the darkness as he painfully picked himself up and staggered to the side lamp, which he turned on. I had no intention to go and help him. He did not attempt to clean the mess as the rug was slowly soaking in water. He sat heavily on the seat I occupied in the evening by the table. And then there was only silence. His clumsy fingers grabbed my strands of hair, hesitant, wondering. He slowly turned them in his fingers, caressing them and brought them to his cheek, his nose, smelling them. He stayed that way, holding my hair, until I saw his shoulders starting to shake lightly, then more violently and I realized he was crying. I did not move and closed my eyes again, breathing evenly, trying to ignore him and fall asleep again. I couldn't. I was hearing his sobs. Despite the harsh words of the evening and my anger, my heart was breaking for him. He was suffering. I was suffering. I got up, silently, and make my way carefully avoiding the shards of glass across the room. I stood behind him. Hunched down, he was holding my hair close to his face and tears were running onto it. I slid my hand around his neck gently. He turned to look at me, his face devastated by grief, and pulled me against him, burying his face in my stomach.

'Laura…'

'Don't say anything.' I whispered. 'Let's go to sleep.'

I held him as we made our way slowly to the rack. I helped him with his clothes, as he was too inebriated to undo his own buttons. In the dim light, sitting on the bed, he looked at me and wiped off my cheeks, stained by tears and remnants of the very precious and rare mascara I had applied that day. Gently kissing my lips, he lay down and fell asleep immediately. I fought nausea as the smell of the alcohol invaded me, and finally fell asleep as well."

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