Chapter 17

Saying Goodbye

Almost three years after the bombing of the northern cities, the government of Caprica completed the first of several housing projects in Caprica City for the occupants of the refugee camps and began the slow resettlement process of the camps' inhabitants. Simultaneous projects included housing in Antioch and Sovana. Six months elapsed as the camps were emptied, dismantled and finally the sites cleared. During the next few years funds were raised by various groups to landscape the camp sites into parks to memorialize those who had died there and to honor those who had survived.

-Bartell, History of the Second Cylon War

.

"How would you like to leave the camp and go to Caprica City?" Karl asked Kara as they walked toward the mess tent. "If we get in the first group you could celebrate your sixteenth birthday in the city."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope."

"How?"

"Maggie said they were going to start signing people up in a few days. They're going to take a couple hundred the first time. If we want to go, Jared will put our names into the computer. He and Maggie are going. I'd really like to go, too."

Maggie was Margaret Edmondson. She and Jared Daniels were cousins. Kara had met her over a year earlier, not long after Carrie Warner had died from the flu. When Jared had come to see if she knew about Carrie, he'd brought Maggie with him.

It was sometimes hard for Kara to believe now that it had been nearly a year and a half since the flu had decimated the camp, hard to believe that she would be sixteen in a few months.

Jared and Maggie's mothers, who were sisters, had both died in the flu epidemic. Their fathers had been in the military. Jared's dad had been on the Atlantia when it was lost over Picon. Maggie's dad had been a Raptor pilot on the Solaria. Kara and Karl shared a common bond with Jared and Maggie. All of them had now lost both of their parents.

Maggie was seventeen like Karl. Jared was nineteen and would soon be twenty. Maggie and Jared looked enough alike that they could be brother and sister.

Maggie was also Karl's girlfriend. Kara had been hanging out with Jared a lot since Karl and Maggie were together almost constantly. She knew they were having sex because she'd almost walked in on them once. If Karl hadn't tied the tent flap from the inside, she would have.

The next time they were alone Maggie casually mentioned it.

"Don't worry about me and Karl getting caught. I'm not going to get in trouble. I've got plans to be a Raptor pilot. I'm not about to take any chances."

"Karl wouldn't be too happy either."

You know Jared really likes you."

"I like him, too. I just don't want to have a boyfriend right now."

She did like Jared, but not the way she liked Hugh Connelly. Jared was quiet and easy-going and really smart when it came to computers and anything electronic. He wanted her to be his girlfriend, but she wasn't ready to go there yet. She didn't know if she would ever be ready to go there.

They had kissed though, and once they'd gone a little further than kissing.

...

The occasion was the Colonial Day celebration at the start of the new year. At the big annual bonfire someone had gotten a band together and there was dancing. Maggie and Karl danced a few times and then they left. Kara knew they were going to Maggie's tent and what they were going to do.

Jared had gotten some liquor on the black market and they walked around sipping a drink that was half punch and half whiskey. They danced, too, swinging each other around and laughing. Later, after her third cup of the drink, they danced to something slow.

At the end of the dance he leaned in and kissed her. It was a shock at first, but she was feeling the effects of the alcohol by then. His mouth felt good on hers.

The kiss got deeper and he got hard against her.

"Come back to the tent," he whispered urgently.

She shook her head. "I can't. We'll get in trouble."

"I'm not going to go all the way with you, but we'll do something else. It will feel almost as good."

"What?"

"Come on. I'll show you."

If she hadn't already been half drunk she probably wouldn't have gone with him. But she did.

What he did was touch her just like Olliver had done to his lusty wench. Jared was good. Carrie had taught him well. What he did to her felt so good. The longer he did it, the better it felt, until finally her whole body melted in spasms of pleasure. Nothing had ever felt quite that good in her life.

Jared gave her a minute and then he unzipped his jeans and took her hand and put it on him. It didn't take long at all. Afterward he held her tightly against him.

"Please don't be sorry we did this, Kara. Please don't hate me."

"I don't."

"I know you still like the teacher. I know…"

She cut him off. "You don't know anything."

"Karl told Maggie about you and him."

"He had no business telling Maggie anything about me," she said angrily.

"He's got a girlfriend. I saw them…"

"Shut up, Jared. I don't want to talk about him."

She got up and put her jeans back on and left Jared there on his cot. In the dark back at her tent she got under the covers. If only Jared had been Connelly. If only Connelly had been Prince Olliver. She didn't even like Jared as a boyfriend and yet he'd made her feel good. Did she really like him more than she thought? Or did she just like what he did to her?

She finally fell asleep, still half drunk and totally confused.

The next day Jared came to see her and apologized. She told him they couldn't ever do anything like that again. She saw the disappointment in his eyes but he nodded.

She never told Karl about what had happened, but eventually Jared told Maggie and Maggie told him. All he said to her was to be careful or the next time she and Jared might go far enough for her to get in trouble. She told him there wouldn't be a next time. At least he didn't lecture her about Jared being too old for her like he'd done about Connelly.

...

Karl brought her thoughts back to the present by asking her a second time, "So what do you say, Kara, do you want to go to Caprica City or not?"

"Sure, why not?"

"We might not even have to live in the government housing. Maggie said her mother had a friend who owns an apartment building somewhere in the city. She might let us stay there. Maggie found her name and address in her mother's stuff. We'll call her after we get to the city."

"Why does Maggie think this woman will give us a free place to live?"

"We're not going to ask her to let us stay there for free. We'll get jobs. Since Jared is helping out with the computers in the admin tent now, he could probably make us some fake IDs."

Kara started to get excited at the prospect of a new life away from the camp.

"Let's do it."

Later that day Karl told her that everything was set. They would leave for Caprica City in a week.

There was only one thing she had to do before she left. She had to say goodbye to Hugh Connelly. It had been over a year since she'd talked to him.

He'd come back to see her a week after she'd seen him with the dark-haired woman. Maybe it was because of the way she was hurting, but she'd asked him not to come back anymore.

"Why not?" He asked.

"You know why," was all that she had been able to say.

"No, I don't."

"That woman you were talking to."

"What woman? I've talked to a lot of women lately about what we're trying to do."

"The pretty one with the dark hair. What's her name?"

"Stacey." He had looked away briefly, and Kara had known for sure.

"You're doing it with her, aren't you?"

"Kara, you don't understand…"

"Yes, I do. Just don't come back."

She'd seen him occasionally after that around the camp, but she hadn't gotten close enough to talk to him. The school they had started for the younger kids was in G-sector. She was sure that's where he spent most of his time…when he wasn't with Stacey.

She waited until the day before they were supposed to leave the camp for Caprica City before she went to see him.

His office was outside the camp's perimeter. She was afraid the guard would stop her, but she tried to act like she knew where she was going and he let her pass the gate.

When she went to the room that was serving as his office, the dark-haired woman was sitting in a chair next to him behind his desk. They looked like they were going over some paperwork.

"Hi," Kara said, aware that her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry.

He looked up and their eyes met. She saw surprise and then something else. He was glad to see her.

"Kara," he said warmly.

"I came to say goodbye. I'm leaving the camp tomorrow and going to Caprica City. Me and Karl. So goodbye."

"Wait a minute," he said and stood up.

The woman stood up, too. Kara saw that she was very pregnant.

"This is my wife, Stacey. Stacey, this is Kara."

The woman looked at her. "I know who she is."

Connelly turned to Stacey. "Could you give us a minute?"

"Alone?"

"Yes. Please."

Without a word Stacey left the room. Kara could tell she was angry.

Connelly got up and shut the door.

Kara couldn't think of anything to say. Apparently for a minute, neither could he.

Finally she said, "Your wife doesn't like me too much, does she?"

"You've let your hair grow out. It looks good. You look good."

"Thanks."

"Would you like to sit down?"

Kara shook her head. "I really just came to say goodbye."

"It's not you she has the problem with."

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes I dream about being in the woods and getting ready to shoot myself. Stacey doesn't understand the connection I feel to you."

"Maybe she'll get over it now that I'm leaving."

"Maybe."

"Did you marry her first or knock her up first?"

"You don't mince words, do you?"

Kara shrugged. The answer was in his eyes.

"Maybe it'll be another boy," she said.

"We already know. It's a girl."

"Girls are okay, too."

He walked over to a file cabinet. "I've got something for you. I've had it for a long time. I wanted to bring it to you, but you said you didn't want to see me again so I didn't."

He pulled open a drawer and took out a package. It was wrapped in brown paper so she couldn't tell what it was. He came over to her, put the package in her hands. She took it and realized based on the size and weight that it was probably a book.

She looked up into his eyes. "The Caprican Prince? The third volume?"

"You told me once how you'd left it behind when the soldiers brought you to the camp. Laura Roslin wanted to send you something to thank you for introducing us. I told her you'd like a copy. She sent it to me on one of the transports."

"That was nice of her."

"She's a nice lady."

Kara nodded. "I know."

"You'll find your Prince Olliver one day, Kara. Or he'll find you. He's probably looking for you right now. You're his golden-haired princess with emerald eyes. You're his true love."

She was holding the book against her chest. Connelly put his arms around her. The book was between them. In a way Olliver had always been between them. But that didn't mean she didn't care about Connelly. She felt his mouth close to her ear.

"Be safe, Kara. You don't hate me, do you?"

She shook her head.

"You saved my life. You know I'll always love you."

"I love you, too," she managed to say before she had to stop talking. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want him to remember her that way. She took a deep breath. She was tough like her mother. She could handle this. "I've got to go. Please."

"Will you kiss me goodbye?" He asked.

"No…but the next time I see you, I'll kiss you hello."

"That's even better. Promise?"

"Cross my heart." She knew he heard the unshed tears in her voice.

She turned and hurried from the room, the book still clutched against her. Stacey was standing outside the door. Kara wasn't sure who she felt sorrier for at the moment.

She was glad the next day when their bus left the camp for Caprica City. With each mile they traveled down the road, her heart felt lighter. Maybe it was because she was so glad to be leaving the camp behind her. Maybe it was because she was on her way to a brand new life. And maybe it was because she believed she would finally find Prince Olliver. He was waiting for her. Maybe he was even looking for her, too.

Maybe he was looking for his golden-haired princess with emerald eyes just like she was looking for him.

...

The eight buses took two days and nights to make the nine-hundred mile trip to Caprica City. They stopped twice each day, once in mid-morning and once in the early evening to eat and switch drivers. Each time they stopped, someone checked them off and then back on their bus. They weren't taking a chance on losing anyone.

Even though she thought of Karl as her brother, she still hadn't gotten used to calling herself Kara Agathon. Karl had to nudge her once when she automatically said Kara Thrace to the woman with the clipboard who was checking them back on the bus.

She was going to have to get used to calling herself something else now though. Jared had made them all IDs. He had taken advantage of the equipment in the admin tent while he was working there. In her pocket was an ID that had her picture and Carrie Warner's name and other information. According to the ID she was already nineteen instead of almost sixteen.

Kara knew she would stand a better chance of getting a job in Caprica City if she were older. Jared wasn't using a fake ID. He didn't have to. Maggie didn't want to use a fake one either. She told Kara that in a year when she was eighteen she was going to join the military and train to be a Raptor pilot like her father.

In the camp Kara's dream of being a pilot like her father had slowly become less real to her. It had slowly faded like so many of her other hopes. Now hearing Maggie talk about it, Kara's old feelings came back in a rush.

She had a hard time remembering her father's face now, but she knew his eyes. All she had to do was look in a mirror.

Did she still want to pursue her dream of becoming a Viper pilot? If she did, it wouldn't be as Carrie Warner. She would do it as Kara Thrace and Kara Thrace was still two years away from being eighteen. Her dream would have to wait.

She couldn't sleep the first day or that night. Maybe it was being in a moving vehicle after over two years and maybe she was just too excited. Neither Maggie nor Karl had that problem.

Jared did, though, and they sat together while Maggie and Karl sat with their heads rolled toward each other dozing or talking quietly. They held hands a lot, too.

Several times Kara rolled her eyes at Jared. It was disgusting for Maggie and Karl to be acting so…so moony-eyed over each other. All love did was get you hurt.

The book Connelly had given her was still wrapped in her backpack. One day she would read it, but right now she had written her own ending for Prince Olliver and his golden-haired princess with the emerald eyes. She was afraid of finding out the book said something different.

On the second night she finally slept. Jared woke her the next morning as the sun was coming up. Their bus had just wound through the hills above the city and was starting its descent. In the distance the glass and metal skyscrapers were reflecting the rising sun, and it looked to her like they were all lit with golden fire. She felt a jolt of excitement course through her. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

They were checked off the bus. Everybody who wanted to go to government housing was getting luggage and lining up or milling around. There were several government workers trying to process everyone. With eight buses full of people, it was chaotic.

The four of them collected their bags and backpacks and walked away. No one tried to stop them. Once they got outside of the terminal parking lot where the buses had stopped, no one could distinguish them from the other people walking along the sidewalk.

They had finally left the camp behind although in the months to come Kara would realize that leaving a place behind physically and emotionally were two different things.

Maggie's mother's friend didn't own an apartment building. She owned a four-story brownstone flat in a nice residential area that contained four apartments. She lived on the ground floor. All of her apartments were rented, but she was able to send them to a friend who owned more buildings.

They wound up with a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment on the third floor of an older building in a more rundown neighborhood. The guy who owned it gave them a break on the rent because they had just come from a refugee camp and because the elevator didn't work. He was on a wait list for parts.

He told them that if any of the other tenants complained about noise or loud partying from them he would kick them out. They all looked at each other and laughed. After living in the camp for two years, just being in Caprica City seemed like a party to them. Jared told him not to worry.

The apartment wasn't furnished but it did have a stove and an old refrigerator that the guy assured them would work when the electricity was turned on. Jared had been working in the admin tent for over a year so he had enough cubits to put down the deposit and pay the first month's rent. Water was included but not electricity. That night they all took cold showers in the dark and slept on the floor.

The next day Jared got the electricity turned on. The stove and refrigerator worked as did the hot water heater. The second night they took warm showers and slept on the floor. Kara was beginning to miss her cot.

It took them nearly six months to get the apartment furnished so that a couple of them weren't sitting on the floor. Some of the furniture they found on the street. Kara couldn't believe the stuff that some people threw away. The rest they found in thrift stores and second-hand furniture stores. It was so miss-matched that in some ways the whole apartment looked cool.

On the first night they decided that she and Maggie would share one of the bedrooms; Karl and Jared, the other. Nothing else was agreeable to all four of them. They finally had enough cubits to buy single mattress sets for each of them which they put on the floor in the bedrooms. They never did bother with beds.

Karl was the first one to get a job. By the beginning of their second week in the city he was bagging groceries and stocking shelves at a big multi-story supermarket four blocks from their apartment. He got a discount on groceries, too, which helped them out.

Jared and Kara both got jobs on the same day a week later. Jared went to work in the computer center of the subway transport system. Using Carrie Warner's ID, Kara got a job as a waitress at a restaurant and bar eight blocks from where they lived. She had to wear a short black skirt and tight black top. The hourly pay was low, but she got good tips. One of the other waitresses told her it was her blond hair and nice boobs. Things went fine for five weeks until a half-drunk guy groped her under the short skirt. She almost broke his wrist. He said he was going to sue the restaurant if she wasn't fired.

When the manager fired her later that night, he told her that she might think about a job where she didn't have to deal with customers. She agreed with him. She didn't like the waitress job anyway.

She changed into her jeans in the employee restroom and stuffed the short skirt into the trashcan on her way out the door.

She wasn't nearly as defiant the next morning. She knew Jared was contributing the largest portion to their support. Even though he didn't seem to mind, it bothered her. Her mother had always told her she shouldn't rely on a man to pay her way. Kara wanted to be tough and self-sufficient like her mother.

What was she good at, though? Customer relations? No. Killing rats at twenty feet with a slingshot? Yes. So should she look for a job with an exterminator? Something about that didn't appeal to her at all. What was her dream job? What did she really want to do until she was old enough to go to the Academy?

She sat looking out the rain-streaked kitchen window at the building across the alley. Her mood was as gloomy as the weather. Maggie came in with a day-old newspaper.

"I got it out of the recycle bin downstairs," she said. "Do you want to look at the help-wanted ads first?"

Kara spent the whole morning looking. She couldn't find anything that she was qualified to do that didn't involve some kind of sales or customer service.

That night Jared told her that one of his co-workers had said that the day care where he took his kid was looking for help. Jared had pulled it up on a map of the city. It was located eighteen blocks from where they lived.

"You're kidding?" Kara scoffed. "Me, take care of rug-rats? Sounds like a job for Maggie."

Jared got defensive. "I was just trying to help."

"Okay, give me the address. I'll check it out tomorrow."

Karl said, "You might find you like it. At least you won't have to worry about a rug-rat groping you," he added.

"All they'll do is barf on me."

Karl made a face. "Eww, I didn't think about that."

The next morning she decided not to spend her dwindling cubits on a transport, even the public ones. Karl and Jared had both told her not to walk the eighteen blocks. They told her that the area between where they lived and the day care was rough territory.

Her solution was to slide the holster and her mother's pistol onto the back of her belt. She looked in the bathroom mirror. The outline showed under her t-shirt. She went into Karl and Jared's room and got one of Karl's t-shirts. It was big enough on her that it hid the pistol completely. In fact it hung half-way to her knees. She was almost a third of the way to her destination when she noticed her reflection in a store window and realized that she didn't look very professional, but if she was going to get barfed on, what did it matter?

She had just turned the corner onto a deserted side street when she saw a panel truck stopped in the middle of the road.

The truck was painted black and was clean, the exterior waxed and shining. There was a logo on the side, a white inverted triangle inside a bright green square. Painted inside the white triangle were two green snakes coiled around each other except at the top where their heads faced. Beneath the logo, the name said MediFirst Inc with a phone number.

Something felt wrong to her about the whole thing. Quietly she left the sidewalk and peered around the back of the truck. The driver was backed against the front door, holding his upper arm, which was bleeding. There was a pale skinny guy wearing a hooded sweatshirt holding a knife on him.

Kara realized she had walked up on a robbery.

"I ain't going to tell you again to open the truck, man," the robber said.

"I told you I don't have the code. It takes a key card and a code. I don't have either one. They have them down at the clinics where I'm supposed to deliver this morning."

"You're lying. You're going to die if you don't open the truck." They robber's tone sounded more desperate and he put the point of the knife against the driver's throat.

Kara carefully eased the pistol out of the holster. She couldn't chamber a round because she knew he would hear her. She was going to have to bluff. Walking up quietly behind the robber she put the barrel of the gun against his skull.

"Don't make any sudden moves and drop the knife."

How trite did that sound? A hundred bad movies worth of trite.

The robber didn't move, but he didn't drop the knife, either. She moved around to his side. Slowly he turned his head and looked at her. His eyes were mostly pupil.

"What? You gonna shoot me, bitch?" He sneered.

Never taking her eyes off his, she pulled back the slide and heard a bullet click into the firing chamber.

"That's up to you."

"You ain't got the guts. You probably ain't got the bullets either."

"You deaf? You want to bet your life there's no bullets in this gun? I'm not going to call the cops. Just drop the knife and walk away. Or die. Your choice. I don't care either way. I've seen so many people die in the last two years one more won't make any difference to me at all."

Something in her tone or her look must have convinced him. He let the knife fall from his hand. It clattered handle first onto the street. "Crazy bitch," he said. Then he turned and walked slowly away from them. When he was past the back of the truck, he ran.

"Get in the truck and slide over," she said to the driver.

She picked up the knife, a nice switchblade, closed it, and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans. She jumped into the driver's seat. She had never driven anything like the truck before, but with his instruction, she managed to get it started and rolling down the street without hitting anything except the curb once.

"He jumped out in front of me," the driver said. "I had to stop. I didn't realize it was a setup. Then he pulled the knife. Would you really have shot him?"

"I don't know. I'll stop in a minute and look at your arm. I just want to get away from here."

"Keep going. I was headed for the clinic six blocks down and two streets over. Whoa! Whoa! Stop sign. That means stop. Now turn right."

"Can they patch you up?"

"There's a doctor there. She'll take care of me. Thanks. You saved my life. I don't have the key card or the frakking code to open the back of this truck. The door codes are changed every day and called into the clinics. They've got the key cards, too."

"What's in it?"

"Drugs."

She glanced over at him.

"Medicine for the clinics. It's so bad down here that we deliver every day and then come back in the evening and pick up what isn't used. Otherwise even aspirin gets stolen. I'm not really a driver. One of them was out sick today and I filled in. I'm the mechanic who keeps these trucks running. Galen Tyrol. The drivers down at the shop call me Chief."

"Carrie Warner. Do you need any drivers?"

"We need guards. The drivers have been telling our boss that he needs to hire guards. He needs somebody riding shotgun on all of these trucks. This isn't the first time somebody has tried to rob us. I know I'll never do this again without somebody riding with me."

"Let's get you sown up first. Then I want to go talk to your boss."

The day was looking up. Forget the day care. This was a lot more what she wanted to do.

The man who ran the business was a tough-looking ex-Marine who almost laughed when she asked about a job. Almost. But he did listen attentively to Galen Tyrol's story. The gash in Tyrol's arm had required fifteen stitches to close.

Galen's boss, who introduced himself as Jack Fisk, asked to see the pistol. She ejected the clip and made sure there was no bullet in the chamber before she handed it to him.

"Where did you get a Marine-issue Mossinger?"

"It belonged to my mother. She was a Marine."

"Retired?"

"She died on Picon with the rest of her unit…fighting Cylons."

"And you need a job?"

"Yes, sir."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen," she lied. She'd just turned sixteen, but she had the fake ID and Carrie Warner was in the system. As long as she was Carrie, she was on the grid and she was nineteen years old. The camp had missed recording Carrie's death from the flu. Or Jared had deleted it. She hadn't asked.

"I can tell you know how to handle a pistol. Can you hit what you aim at?"

She thought of the slingshot. "Every time."

He handed the pistol back to her. "Hang on to that. You won't get another one and you won't get any more bullets for it either unless you know someone who has a private stash."

"Why not?"

"The Cylons went into all the gun shops and took everything, even the bullets. If somebody is caught with a gun, especially committing a crime with a gun, they're taken in front of a Cylon tribunal and usually executed right afterward by a centurion. At least that's what we hear. Gun crime is way down, other crime is up. The Cylons don't care if we kill each other. They just don't want us doing it with anything that could be turned on them. Didn't you know that?"

"No."

"Where have you been for the last three years?"

"A refugee camp up near Antioch. Both my parents are dead. I'm on my own. So what do the police do? Don't they have guns either?"

"Guns with rubber bullets."

"Military, too?"

"Military, too."

"That sucks."

"That's why I retired after twenty years. I'd planned to put in at least twenty-five, maybe thirty, but I couldn't take it any longer. A lot of people are getting out these days."

"So do you think you could give me a job?"

"I haven't made a decision on hiring guards, yet. Even if I do, it will take a while to get the permits for the guns with the rubber bullets. The Cylons won't just rubber-stamp a request like that. No pun intended. And I'm sorry, but I don't need any drivers right now."

Kara was disappointed and she knew it showed. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot."

Fisk scratched his head and looked at her for a minute. "Can you ride a bike?"

"Of course," Kara said. She started to add that she'd been riding a bike since she was a kid, but something told her to keep her mouth shut.

"Come with me."

He didn't mean a bicycle at all. He meant a motorcycle. It was black like the truck and just as polished and had the company's logo painted on the gas tank. It was a medium-sized, light-weight Ducarvo, and it was fast."

"Four-cylinder, four-stroke, 1298 cc, electric starter, six-speed. She'll do nearly two hundred in sixth gear."

"What do you use the bike for?"

"Emergency deliveries. Before the Cylons attacked, Caprica got almost half of its pharmaceuticals from Canceron and Virgon, but now all we've got are the two small plants in Delphi. The two big ones up near Sovana were destroyed in the bombing. They're rebuilding but it's slow going. Cylons don't need drugs. They could care less if we have them. A lot of people have died because they didn't get the medicine that was keeping them alive…diabetics, people with high blood pressure, cancer, heart conditions. The list goes on."

"I was in the camp during the flu epidemic. A lot of the people who died would have been okay with antibiotics. At least that's what I heard."

"I remember reading about that," Fisk said. "A real tragedy. I know the government tried, but the drugs just weren't available. The two plants near Delphi are working twenty-four hours a day now, seven days a week and still can't keep up with the demand. Chemical companies are doing the same thing. Machinery breaks down, they can't get the parts. It's been a nightmare. We have two bikes because our company makes emergency deliveries to clinics, but mostly to the hospitals. A dozen times a day, more often lately. Hospitals can't stockpile medicines like they used to. Occasionally we pick up at one hospital and take to another. That's what my company does. We get medicine from point A to point B. It's by truck to the clinics and daily bulk runs to the hospitals, but we use the bike on all other runs. It can also go places a truck can't. Like through traffic jams."

"I can do that," Kara said. "I can start tomorrow. And I've never ridden a bike exactly like this one before, but I learn quick."

Finally Fisk said, "Wait here." He went back inside the office and when he returned, he was carrying two helmets. He handed one to her. "Get on behind me. This is your job interview."

He started the bike and she got on behind him. The helmets were wired with radios. They could talk to each other or to a dispatcher in the office. He took a route that covered dozens of square blocks and talked to her the whole time, explaining the bike to her as they rode. Finally he pulled over into a mostly vacant parking lot and told her it was her turn.

She did a lot better than she thought she would. Everything seemed second-nature to her, like she already knew how to ride. She thought of her father. Maybe it was in her genes, just another way she was like him. By the time they got back to MediFirst, Kara was in love with everything about the motorcycle.

Maybe Fisk wanted to give her a break because of her mother or maybe because she had spent time in the refugee camp. Whatever the reason, he hired her right there standing in the parking lot.

"We have two bikes. You'll rotate with three other riders, twelve-hour shifts. Seven a.m. until seven p.m., or seven p.m. until seven a.m. three days on, three days off. We run twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You won't be on the bike all that time, but you've got to be here and ready to go if we get a call. I'm hiring you for the day shift, but you might have to pull a night occasionally. Sometimes if it gets busy, I might call you in on one of your days off or to cover if someone calls in sick. Do you have a problem with any of that?"

"Not one."

"Welcome aboard, Carrie," Fisk said and shook her hand.

She had just landed her dream job.

That afternoon she went home and put the gun away. She would keep it cleaned periodically, but she knew she would never carry it again until she was ready to kill Zarek and Zarek was still in prison. Jared had looked it up for her.

She went to work the next day, but it was a month before she got to take the bike out on a real run. She studied detailed maps of the city, learned the best routes and the alternate routes from the distribution center to all the clinics and hospitals. She learned the one-way streets, where traffic was usually the heaviest. She learned how to check the computer for traffic problems. She learned the dispatcher's jargon, their abbreviations for the hospitals and clinics. She didn't think she had ever learned so much in such a short period of time. It was harder than anything she'd done in school, but she loved it.

Best of all, though, she got to ride the bike each day. She got better and better at handling it.

Maggie thought she was crazy to have taken what she considered a dangerous job. She couldn't understand why Kara hadn't applied at the day care. Kara told Maggie there was nothing stopping her from applying. Eventually Maggie did and was hired. She worked there several days a week. Kara was glad she wasn't the one getting barfed on, but Maggie seemed to deal with it okay. At least she never complained around Kara. She said it was just temporary, anyway, until she could go to the Academy.

Jared said very little until one evening while they were eating, "You're talking about that damned motorcycle like you were in love with it or something."

Kara smirked. "At least I didn't name it Connelly."

He looked down and she was sorry that she'd said it. Later after Maggie and Karl had gone into the bedroom that Karl was sharing with Jared, Kara went over and put her hand on Jared's shoulder and apologized to him.

He pulled her down onto his lap. To her surprise she let him. She let him kiss her, too. And take her into her bedroom and lock the door.

"We can't…" she started.

"I know. I promise I won't…not until you're ready."

She let him take off her clothes. That night he did what he'd done to her at the camp and a few other things, too. But he kept his promise. He didn't try to go all the way with her. Then he showed her a few things about making him feel good, too. Prince Olliver and his lusty wench had done all of them.

Later, as she lay beside him, she realized that she would have to be careful about how often she let this happen. She could get used to feeling like this.

Suddenly she laughed.

"What's so funny?" Jared asked.

"Can you believe that a couple of years ago I thought all of this was gross and didn't understand why people wanted to do it?"

Jared laughed, too.

...

Fisk ordered black leather pants for her that zipped over her jeans and a black leather jacket with the company logo stitched on the back since the ones that the last rider had left were too big for her. He told her to get some tighter jeans so the leathers would fit better. It was all about aerodynamics. She got the tight jeans, black ones. The jacket fit tight, too, to cut down on wind resistance. She bought long-sleeved black turtlenecks and short-sleeved black t-shirts to wear under it and a pair of nice black lace-up motorcycle boots that came above her ankles and had heavy soles. Fisk also got her a custom fit black helmet. She carried the medicine in a small leather backpack with special padding.

"You pay for your own speeding tickets," Fisk told her. "I fire you after the third one since you'll lose your driver's license. That's what happened to the guy you're replacing. I want the medicine delivered as fast as possible, but I don't condone breaking the law. You lose the job, you owe me for the leathers and the helmet. You wreck the bike or dent it and it's your fault, you'll pay for that, too."

The first day she took the bike out on a solo run was the most exciting day of her life. She was careful, but she still rode too fast. She loved speed. It was in her blood.

It took nearly hitting a man to slow her down.

He had apparently just bought flowers from a street vendor and had turned and stepped off the curb without looking in her direction. Kara had come around the corner at Market and Sixth on a green light. There was almost no traffic on Sixth because there were a lot of unrepaired potholes in the road, potholes that she knew by heart and could easily avoid. She was on an emergency run to the big medical center over on Sixth and King's Bay Streets almost twenty blocks away.

She leaned down over the bike and accelerated. If she caught the next light green, she would make it all the way without having to stop. And then the man stepped into the street. She swerved, felt like she had actually brushed him, although she realized later that she couldn't have. She concentrated on keeping the bike upright and kept going. She made the next intersection on the yellow light. In one of the bike's small side-mirrors she saw the man standing on the edge of the street, looking after her. She could just imagine the names he was calling her. She had a couple for him, too. Frakking idiot was the one that first came to mind.

After she made her delivery, though, she pulled the bike into the hospital's parking lot and sat for a few minutes. She was still shaking. She tried to remember the details. He was tall, wearing light brown or khaki pants and a brown bomber jacket, maybe leather with something on the shoulder. His hair was brown or maybe sandy, the image wasn't that clear. His face was a blur. All she remembered was the sunglasses. It had happened too fast.

She'd nearly hit someone. It didn't matter if it was his fault or not, she'd nearly hit someone. As fast as she was going, she'd probably have killed him, maybe her, too.

The radio in her helmet crackled. "Carrie, how far out are you?"

"Just leaving KB6," she answered and pulled out of the parking lot.

"We've got another one for you. Non-emergency MRC53." The code indicated a methadone rehab clinic down on Fifty-third. "Distribution has it ready for you."

"I'm on my way."

She slowed down.

She could have killed somebody.

...

Lee sat in the booth at McGee's waiting for John. He was eight months into his year on the Triton and was home on his second leave during those eight months. During his first leave four months earlier, he'd spent almost all of it with Blaire. He thought they had worked out their problems and were doing fine, but a month ago she had broken up with him. She was dating Billy Keikeya now.

She hadn't told him who she had dumped him for, but her roommate Dee had. Not that he cared who she'd dumped him for.

Lee was on his fourth beer when John finally slid into the booth across from him.

"Damn, Lee," John said when he saw the three empty bottles. "I didn't think I was that late. How long have you been here?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Are you going to keep going at that rate all night?"

"Probably."

"Then I'll make sure you get home. You're not driving, are you?"

"No. I took a transport."

"You don't normally drink like this. What's wrong?"

"Blaire dumped me. She's dating Laura Roslin's pretty boy aide now, the one we saw with her that day at my Academy graduation."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. We weren't right for each other. She shouldn't be with a pilot anyway. She wants somebody, 'who's around most of the time', to quote her", Lee said sarcastically. "Like she couldn't wait for me for a year. She wrote me a long frakking letter spelling it all out. Dear Lee. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do... Right. I've been behaving myself up there on the Triton because I told Blaire I wouldn't sleep around on her. And the whole time she's probably been back here on Caprica frakking Billy's brains out every chance she got. I feel like an idiot."

"You sound bitter, Lee."

"Do you blame me?"

"Better to find out now than after you marry her."

"I never asked her to marry me."

"Oh? I thought that's where you two were headed."

Lee shrugged. "She's not the one. When I had my accident, when I was in the decompression chamber, I saw the one. She was so beautiful. She kissed me."

"You were hallucinating."

"That's what everybody tells me. I don't remember anything about being in that decompression chamber except the girl."

"Well, look on the bright side. You've got four more months on the Triton. A little friendly advice, keep it to one woman at a time, especially if you're going to take advantage of the shower."

"What's that mean?"

"A long story, but it's funny in a joke's-on-me kind of way. Want to hear it?"

Lee rolled his eyes. "It always comes down to sex with you, doesn't it?"

"Not always. I was just trying to cheer you up. The shower story really is funny, but I can tell you're not in the mood for it."

"I just keep telling myself that this is for the best. Maybe at one time I thought Blaire was the one. Now I know that I haven't found the right girl yet."

"Neither have I. I mean I had the right woman once. Kara's mother. Maybe that's all you get in this life. Maybe you only get one chance with the right person and if something screws that up..." he shrugged. "Who knows?"

"So Lissa's not the right woman?"

"I don't love her if that's what you mean. I care about her, but I'm not in love with her, not that kick-in-the-gut kind of feeling I always got when I was with Kara's mom. I was stupid to think I could make it be like that with Lissa. Kara's mom was just one of a kind. And now I'm sticking with Lissa because I don't want to get out there and start doing what I was doing a couple of years ago. And before you start feeling sorry for Lissa, she doesn't love me either. She loves her job more than anything else. Hell, we're more like roommates now."

"I don't understand why you're still in it, then."

"Give it twenty years. You might have a different perspective. The older you get, the harder it gets to start over."

"Maybe you two need to take a vacation. Go somewhere together and sit in the sun like Blaire and I did after my graduation. Spend a lot of time in bed. That's good for any relationship. It was for me and Blaire. At least it was at the time."

"I've asked Lissa a dozen times to take a vacation with me…even a short one. She's too busy right now. She's gotten a couple of promotions down at the lab. She's not supposed to talk about it, but she told me that the Cylons are trying to reproduce. Hell, she's down there trying to help them make babies and she can't even find the time or energy to…oh, frak it. You don't need to hear me bitching about my problems."

"Why are they trying to have babies? I thought they just copied themselves."

"There's something in their scripture about being fruitful and multiplying and copying doesn't count. So they tried to do it the old-fashioned way with each other and found they can't make babies. That's what they need our research for. Their goal is for a Cylon female to have a child fathered by a Cylon male."

"A pure Cylon child?"

"Lissa won't talk about that part. I think they're trying to do something else in that lab, something that's unthinkable."

"Human-Cylon hybrid?"

"That's one of the things we've been arguing about for the last couple of weeks, ever since she slipped and said something about it. I've never liked her working for that Cylon doctor or Baltar anyway, and now I find out they're maybe trying to make a half-breed. To me that would be wrong on so many levels. Lissa doesn't have any problem with it."

"And you're okay with that?"

"No, I'm not. Lissa won't say definitely that's what they're doing, but she won't deny it either. We got into a big argument a couple of weeks ago. I said some things I shouldn't have, mentioned Kara's mom in a comparison that wasn't too flattering to Lissa, and she started crying. I'd never made her cry before, and I felt bad. I'm frustrated with a lot of things right now and I just took it out on her. I stopped the next day and bought flowers from a street vendor. My mind was a million miles away. I didn't even look up the street. I just stepped off the curb and nearly got killed."

"You almost got hit by a car?"

"Motorcycle. Beautiful black Ducarvo. And the damndest thing is that it was a woman riding it. She must have come around the corner down on Market. When she almost hit me she was flying up Sixth like a bat out of Hades. She swerved, missed me, and kept going. That took a hell of a lot of skill at the speed she was doing."

"Damn, John. You've got to be more careful. Did you get a look at her?"

"I didn't see her face at all. She had the sun visor on her helmet down. Her leather jacket was tight enough there wasn't any doubt about her being a girl. She was wearing a little backpack, too. Probably a delivery service."

"Too bad you didn't get the name. You could have called and reported her."

"I wouldn't have done that even if I had. It was my fault. Damn, she could ride that bike. I used to ride the same way. I know what she was trying to so. She was trying to make that green light. She went airborne across the next intersection. It was beautiful. I could almost feel it. I just stood there in the street holding those damned flowers and staring after her."

"Were the flowers worth it?"

John shrugged. "I had to be up at four the next morning so I was already asleep when Lissa got home from work. She's been working until nearly midnight a lot lately. I left the flowers on the table with a note apologizing to her. She didn't wake me up to thank me, but she did come home from work earlier the next night and dragged me into the shower with her. It had been a damned long time since we'd done that. It'll probably be a damned long time before it happens again, too."

"Welcome to the club," Lee said glumly.

"How she feels about this Cylon breeding thing is really bugging me. A man and a woman creating a new life, that's a miracle. When Kara was a baby, I'd hold her and just look at her. There's no way I can describe what it feels like to hold a life that's part of you. It makes me sick to think the Cylons are trying to make something that's half-human."

"If you break up with Lissa, do you want me to fix you up with Laura Roslin? One time she asked me about you. It sounded like she was interested."

John grinned. "Damn it, Lee. Here I thought I was going to make it through a whole evening without threatening to hurt you."

"I already feel like I've had the crap beat out of me so get in line." He finished the fourth beer, signaled the waiter for another one and waited until he brought it. He was really feeling the alcohol now. A couple more and he would be oblivious. A couple of more and he wouldn't care if Blaire frakked Billy on the table in front of him.

During the time it took the waiter to bring his beer, he noticed that John was staring absently at the wall.

"Thinking about Laura Roslin?" Lee finally asked.

"No, I was thinking about the girl on that bike. I was thinking my daughter would ride a bike like that. Just like she rode that skateboard of hers, perfect balance, absolutely fearless. Just let me sit here for a minute and pretend that was my daughter. Let me pretend for a minute that Kara's still alive."

He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. Lee realized that John was fighting tears.

"She's alive, John," he said gently. "I know she is."

"How do you know that?" John asked bitterly. "Even Lissa thinks Kara is dead. She said that it's only a matter of time before somebody finds…something, in the woods around the airport or near one of the towns. She thinks I'm crazy to have looked for her as long as I did. Kara vanished without a trace. How can you believe she's alive?"

Lee realized that he was the one who now had faith that Kara had survived all this time, the faith that John once had so strongly, the faith that John now seemed to have lost.

"Because she's the girl I saw when I was in the decompression chamber. She's the girl in my dream or hallucination or whatever you want to call it. I could feel her. That's how close she was. She kissed me, John. She leaned down and kissed me and her mouth was so warm. She was so alive. I know this sounds like a drunk man talking, but Kara is out there, John. You told me once that she was tough as well as beautiful. She survived. She is alive. I know it."

He looked at his friend and saw the tiniest spark of hope flare in his eyes.

"You keep telling me that, then. You keep believing for both of us."

Lee nodded. He could do that. He pushed his beer across the table.

"You'd better drink this. I don't need it. Blaire's not worth the hangover."

He'd realized something as he'd spoken the words to John, something he should have realized earlier. The girl he had conjured from somewhere deep in his subconscious, the girl with the athletic body and blond hair and green eyes, was all of the women he thought she was. She was Aphrodite. She was Posiden's beautiful daughter. She was the princess who stepped from a garden pool. She was all of them, this girl who had given him the gift of love.

But she was someone else, too.

She was John Gallagher's daughter.

She was Kara.