Chapter 19
You Say Terrorist…I Say Resistance
From the beginning of the Cylon occupation of Caprica, a small number of humans joined a movement to harass and impede the Cylons who now controlled their lives. Based on the peace treaty, the government was forced to deal with these resistance fighters as if they were an enemy force. They were referred to as terrorists in all official publications. Privately most people, including elected and appointed members of the government, referred to them as the resistance.
-Bartell, History of the Second Cylon War
.
Maybe because the change was subtle or maybe because Karl and Maggie stayed so wrapped up in each other, Kara was the only one who noticed the change in Jared. He became more withdrawn. A day or two a week he stayed late at work. Or that's where he said he was.
One night about six months after she went to work for Jack Fisk, Kara called Jared at work to find out if he wanted to meet her and Maggie and Karl downtown and go to a movie. The girl who answered the phone in the computer center told her that Jared had been gone since five p.m. It was almost eight. Kara had already tried his mobile phone several times. He wasn't picking up.
She told Karl and Maggie to go ahead to the movie. She waited on Jared.
He came in just before ten o'clock.
"Hard day at work?" She asked as he got the plate of food that Maggie always left him out of the refrigerator.
"I saw where you had called my mobile phone a couple of times. I couldn't pick up. I was busy."
"What's keeping you so late down there?"
"Network server problems."
"Same server you had trouble with last week?"
"A different one." He sat down at the table and started eating the food cold.
Kara wasn't jealous, but she didn't like being lied to either.
"What's this server's name?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"You weren't at work. I called there when you wouldn't answer your mobile. I thought you might want to meet us downtown and take in a movie. Is it a girl?"
"No."
"A guy?"
Jared didn't even bother to answer her. "Leave it alone, Kara."
"No, I'm not going to leave it alone. Are you in some kind of trouble?"
His mouth was full of food so he shook his head.
"But something is going on with you. Why won't you tell me?"
He swallowed. "Because it's dangerous and I'm not going to involve any of the rest of you."
"Dangerous? And what I do is not? How can computer stuff be more dangerous than riding a motorcycle down a street full of potholes in the middle of the night?"
"Who said it was all computer stuff?"
Kara was stunned. What else could Jared be doing? She sat down across from him at the table. "What the hell are you doing? What have you gotten yourself mixed up in?"
He grinned. "Wow, it almost sounds like you care."
"I do care."
"Go to bed with me then."
"I have been going to bed with you."
"All we've been doing is fooling around with each other. I mean let me really make love to you. Go all the way with me. Show me you care about me."
"What does that have to do with what you've gotten yourself into?"
Jared sighed in resignation. "Nothing. Just drop it."
"Are you doing something that could get you arrested or killed?"
He kept his eyes on his plate and wouldn't look at her.
"Gods damn it. I knew it. You're into something illegal, aren't you?"
"That depends on your definition of illegal."
"Tell me!"
"You realize if you ever say anything it could get me in a lot of trouble, probably killed. Maybe you and Karl and Maggie, too."
"Jared, look at me." He did. "There are exactly two people on this planet that I'd go to the wall for and you're one of them. Do you think I can't keep my mouth shut?"
"The other one being Karl?"
"Of course it's Karl. Who else would it be?"
"It was a toss-up between him and Connelly."
"I'm not even going to say how full of crap you are."
"And Maggie?"
"She and I get along okay, but she really doesn't like me that much. I don't know that I'd lay it on the line for her. Not the way I would you or Karl."
"You can't ever say anything to Karl. I know how close you are, but Karl will tell Maggie and she'll raise so much hell I'd never hear the end of it. She's already afraid that something will interfere with her dream about becoming a Raptor pilot. If she knew about this, she'd just…you've got to swear to me."
"Cross my heart, word of honor and all that," she said.
"I'm what the government calls a terrorist," he calmly said.
"What?"
"A rebel is how I prefer to think of myself. I belong to a group that's fighting the Cylons in small ways, a resistance movement."
"How?"
"Intercepting their communications, stealing from them, communications equipment, stuff like that. We make explosives, too, and bullets. There's some in another group who take it to extremes, but I'm not one of them."
"Holy Hera! Oh my gods! This stuff we've been seeing on the news? That's not small stuff! That's your group?"
He shrugged. "Not all of it. I told you we don't do extreme stuff and that's what makes the news. Nobody I know will wire himself up with explosives and blow up a police station or a military convoy because he thinks they're collaborating with the Cylons."
"What difference does it make? I'm sure in everybody's eyes a terrorist is a terrorist. I'm sure people don't make those fine distinctions."
"We do. I made it clear I wouldn't kill anybody except Cylons. I'd kill them all day long but it doesn't matter. They'd just make another copy. They call it downloading which proves they're nothing but a bunch of computers. My father died when their nuclear base star blew up and destroyed the Atlantia, and they're responsible for my mother's death. If we hadn't been in the frakking refugee camp she wouldn't have died of the flu."
"If you're not into the radical stuff, what do you do?"
"I guess you'd say I'm technical support which means I'm a hacker. I get into their systems, see their plans, see the routes their vehicles take. They're very dependent on computers. Big surprise. Maybe because that's what they are. Then I pass that information on to others. I've built a computer model that looks like a transportation program that scans their communications for certain words. It's complicated."
"I want to join you. Both my parents are dead because of the Cylons, too."
"I was recruited by a guy at work. It took a long time before I got in, and even now I know only a couple of people, and they know only a couple. And I don't know anybody's real name except the guy who recruited me. Everybody has a nickname. That's all I know. That way the top people in the group are protected. I'll talk to this guy. You have some skills we could use. That deadly aim of yours for one thing. And you've got the motorcycle."
"I'll have to be careful about the motorcycle. If something happens to it, Fisk told me I'd pay for it."
Jared looked at her. "Kara, if something that bad happens, that damned motorcycle will probably be the least of your worries. This can't be some whim on your part that you decide later you want out of. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"
"I'm sure. The only thing I'm more sure about is killing Zarek someday."
"He's up for parole," Jared said.
"How do you know that?"
"I saw something about it in a communication. I've been keeping track of him for you. I can't be absolutely certain, but I think Zarek is one of us."
"Are you kidding?"
"He's been very vocal inside the prison about the Cylons. I know that for sure. He has a large following among the other prisoners. He knows a lot of people on the outside as well. Maybe you should forget about killing him."
"Not a chance."
Jared got up and washed his plate and fork and stuck them in the dish drainer by the sink. "I'll see what I can do about getting this guy I know to talk to you. I can't make any promises, though. Let me ask you something because I'm sure he'll ask me. If it came down to it, could you kill somebody?"
"What do you mean? Like in cold blood or to save my own life or to save somebody else's?"
"All of those."
Kara thought for a while. She was going to kill Zarek in cold blood but that was personal. Zarek aside, could she walk up to someone on the street, someone she didn't even know, and pull the trigger?
"I couldn't kill a human in cold blood. I'm not an assassin. But to save my own life or somebody else's, yeah. I'm sure I could. And I'm like you, I could kill Cylons all day long. That's just the same thing as unplugging a toaster."
"Even the ones that look like humans? Even the skinjobs?"
"Even them."
"Okay, that's what I'll tell him."
"What do the others call you?"
Jared looked embarrassed. "Harley."
"Harley? Where did you get that?"
"It was the name of a dog I had when I was a kid. You might be thinking about a nickname, too. If this guy agrees to see you, that's how I'll introduce you."
"I already know what my nickname is going to be. Sassy. It's what my father called my mother."
"That's good. It fits you. Oh, something else. If you do become one of us, you'll have to take off the dog tags. The ring is okay, but you can't wear the dog tags anymore."
"Why not? Oh, I see. If I got caught or…something else."
"I know they're your mother's, but you could still be identified by those dog tags."
"If I get to join you, I'll take off the tags. The ring can be for both of them."
"Did your father have a nickname?"
"He had a call sign, Starbuck, but my mother called him Flyboy."
"Too bad I've already got a name. I like Flyboy."
"You couldn't be Flyboy."
"Why not?"
"Flyboy has to be a pilot like my father."
"Great. So first it was Connelly and now it's some pilot you haven't even met."
"Give it a frakking rest about Connelly, will you? I left him behind in the camp."
He walked over and gently pushed her until her back was against the refrigerator. "I wish I could believe that." He leaned in, pressed his body against hers and kissed her. "Do you ever pretend I'm him?"
"Only when you act like a real jerk." She put her arms around his neck.
"I'd do anything for you, Kara."
She sighed. "Then let's go play."
...
Lee finished his tour of duty on the Triton and was posted back to the airbase on Caprica. He had a two-week leave to get settled into an apartment or some other housing. His parents told him he was welcome to move back into the house, but he declined. He'd been on his own since the Academy and didn't think being at home was the right thing for him anymore.
Before he took the two weeks though, he had to report to Major Brandon Parker, his new commanding officer. The major had his Academy and service folders on his desk when Lee walked into Parker's office and came to attention.
"Lieutenant Lee Adama reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease, Lieutenant Adama. Have a seat."
Lee sat in one of the two chairs across from the major's desk.
"Tell me, lieutenant, have you thought about what you want to do for the rest of your career in the military? Besides fly a Viper?"
"I wasn't aware I needed to think about anything other than flying a Viper, sir."
"Unfortunately that's not enough these days. We've lost quite a few personnel in the last three years to retirements and people not re-enlisting. Recruitments are also down. A lot of us are doing more than one job."
"What are my options, sir?"
"There are several. I'm going to suggest one. I've looked at your Academy grades and aptitude tests. Two things stand out, your intelligence and your desire to excel in everything you do. You're always at the top of your class. I'd like for you to think about training as an interrogator and data analyst while keeping up your duties as a pilot. The Cylons will only allow you to fly one day a week. That leaves four days to fill."
"An interrogator and analyst, sir? Could you be more specific?"
"How well have you kept up with what's happening down here on Caprica while you were on the Triton?"
"Not as well as I should have, sir."
"We're dealing with several terrorist cells that have sprung up in the last three years, anti-Cylon terrorist cells, which makes them anti-government terrorist cells. Some analysts think it's all one big loosely organized group, but other analysts think the attacks are too diverse to come from one group. Personally I don't know nor do I much care. Our job is to question anyone who is caught, relay that information to a special task force that is composed of military and government agents and Cylons."
"The military is questioning terrorists?"
"A clause in the treaty we signed with the Cylons over three years ago leaves this sort of…policing up to the military. It's our responsibility to keep the peace here on the planet. If we don't, they'll step in. Knowing how the Cylons usually solve problems, none of us want that."
"What kind of training would this job involve?"
"Not much at this point. Mainly you'd be working with men or women who are very experienced in interrogation. Then you'd work with other analysts picking apart any data that is…acquired from the suspects. We know that a lot of it won't be reliable. We need to know what is and what isn't."
"Sir, that wouldn't appeal to me if it involves torture or beatings or drugging someone."
"We don't do that…at least not that I'm aware of and certainly not on my watch. What the Cylons do to prisoners is out of our control. We ask questions. That's it. You'd be learning psychological and verbal techniques. You'd receive basic paramedic training since some suspects are not in good physical condition when we get them. Also to recognize the reactions of a person who has taken certain drugs. Not long ago a suspect's apartment was searched and several anti-anxiety medications were found along with a strong stimulant. A group of analysts has theorized that some of the terrorists use these drugs before they go out on a mission, especially if the outcome is death or almost certain death for the individual. Unfortunately the suspect whose apartment the drugs were found in died as a result of the injuries he sustained while breaking into a research facility and he couldn't be questioned."
"If I choose not to follow this career path, sir, then what are my other options?"
"I think, Lieutenant Adama, you'll be sitting behind a desk at the airbase up near Sovana, flying one day a week, probably keeping some colonel's budget spreadsheets and scheduling his golf games."
Major Parker had made his point. They wanted him to train as an interrogator and analyst or spend the next few years of his career in a dead-end, boring job. Lee made his decision without any hesitation. He would do what Parker suggested.
After his meeting with the major, Lee walked out into the early January sunshine. He already missed the feeling of sitting in the cockpit of a Viper. What was it the major had said as he'd left the office, to be thankful for one day of flying a week? On the Triton Lee had flown more days of the week than not. He already knew that the days between flights were going to seem very long.
He wondered what his father would think about this turn in his career. He wondered what his grandfather would have thought. His grandparents had been visiting family on Tauron when the Cylons had attacked and destroyed the main cities. Bill hadn't even been aware of their trip until after the negotiations had begun and he had called his father's law office. It was just another emotional blow that the Adama family had to deal with in a short period of time.
Lee thought of the irony. His grandfather would probably have wanted to defend some of the very men and women that Lee might be interrogating. His grandfather had always been fascinated by what made people commit the crimes they did. In some respects Lee shared his fascination.
He walked to the cafeteria on base, bought a newspaper, got a cup of coffee and began to look at the Apartments for Rent section.
Even as he circled several ads, he couldn't get his mind off what the major had just told him. What made someone become a terrorist? Hatred? A desire for revenge? Was there ever a good enough reason to strap explosives to your chest and detonate them? Was there ever a good enough reason to kill the innocent in order to get at those you hated, or to kill the innocent to make some kind of statement?
Maybe some people hated the Cylons enough that they thought anyone's death was worth it if it hampered their activities. How did you defend against someone who felt like that?
Maybe he would like this job better than he thought he would. Maybe he could make a difference. Maybe he could actually stop some of the senseless deaths and save lives.
...
That same evening Laura Roslin sat in the booth at Channing's. It was a quarter past six and she began to think that John Gallagher wasn't going to show up. Her lunch meeting with Dr. Baltar was the next day.
At 6:20 John finally slid into the booth. His face was flushed.
"Sorry, sorry I'm late. Long line in the grocery store."
"You do the grocery shopping?"
"Lissa works all the time. I fly three or four days out of the seven. I got back in at 16:30 this afternoon. I thought I'd have time to get the shopping done and still get here on time."
Laura smiled. "Apology accepted."
"I'm not flying tomorrow, so I'll take that drink tonight. I don't guess you do any grocery shopping."
"I have a housekeeper. She grocery shops, runs errands, takes my clothes to the cleaners, leaves dinner for me if I'm not going out. I couldn't survive without her. Twelve and fourteen hour days don't lend themselves to housework."
He grinned. "Don't I know that?"
"You do the housework, too?"
"When it gets done."
She had no idea if he was teasing her about doing housework or was telling her the truth. "You have something for me?"
"More than I thought I'd get. It's bad news, but not the worst news."
"The worst news being?"
"That they had succeeded in making…creating…whatever you want to call it…a human-cylon hybrid that grew to term. They've started them in test tubes or whatever they start them in, but they can only grow them that way for so long before they have to be…implanted. They've done that, too, but they won't continue to grow for long. The surrogates…that's what they call the women who get the implanted hybrids…can't carry them."
"They miscarry?"
He nodded. The waiter brought his drink and John waited until he had walked away before he continued.
"No surrogate has managed to carry a hybrid longer than eight weeks. The woman's body always rejects the implant at that point or sooner. Some won't implant at all. They're working now on the theory that it's some genetic abnormality caused by…mixing human and Cylon DNA. They're still trying to find just the right combination of everything to make it work. Lissa mentioned two things after that, spontaneous mutation and gene splicing. I understand the spontaneous mutation, but gene splicing is way over my head. I know that they can control the gene splicing but not the other one. Lissa still thinks they're making progress. Apparently so do Baltar and Simon."
"You're right. This is bad news but not the worst news. Did they ever try having a Cylon and a human," she felt herself beginning to blush and took a deep breath, "having a Cylon and a human have sex? I'm assuming they can…actually have sex. Did they try it the normal way first."
"They've apparently got all the right parts, but it's never worked for two Cylons. That's the reason they decided they needed us. This particular project has been going on for almost two years, but it hasn't been until the last year that they actually got a successful…fertilization there in the lab. They tried the other way first, but Lissa wasn't involved in that. She told me that she's particularly good at doing the fertilization procedure…putting the egg and sperm together. Damn, that just makes me sick. I didn't know that until she told me last night. She said when the first one worked, when the cells actually started dividing that Baltar grabbed her and kissed her like she'd somehow personally made it happen."
Laura made a face at the thought of being kissed by Gaius Baltar.
"My reaction, too. Apparently Baltar promised the Cylons a long time ago that he could do what they were asking and now two years have gone by and still no hybrid baby. He's getting desperate. Lissa said Simon observes everything they do and won't allow an implantation unless he knows its half-Cylon. She thinks he's afraid Baltar will sneak a human one in there, get a successful implantation and try to pass it off as a hybrid."
"During the treaty negotiations, Dr. Baltar assured me that human and Cylon DNA couldn't be mixed. I believe he used the analogy of trying to mate a cat and a dog. He made me feel ignorant for having thought it and now you say they've achieved it."
"That's what Lissa says."
"Are the women aware of what they are being implanted with?"
"No. They think they're guinea pigs for new implantation techniques. They're being so well paid they aren't asking questions. They have no personal stake in it. Lissa said all of them had carried at least two healthy pregnancies to term without problems. All of them were screened very carefully for physical, psychological and financial conditions. None have any religious beliefs. They all really need the money. They're being told that any child that results will go to childless couples who are trying to adopt. I doubt that. I think the Cylons will take them."
"So even if these women suspected something they would probably keep quiet?"
"Probably."
"Are they using all human surrogates or both human and some of the Natasi models?"
"Human is all Lissa knows for sure, but she did drop another bombshell. A really big one in my opinion. There's maybe another Cylon."
"What do you mean another Cylon?"
"A fourth one, fourth model or whatever. Lissa saw a dark-haired woman, young, oriental features in one of the rooms where they do the implantation procedure. She's not certain, though. Simon has personally done all the procedures on this girl…or girls. If she's a Cylon, there could be multiple copies of her. He's got all the records, too. He won't put anything into the computer. Lissa said that's strange since all the others' records are in there. But none of that is any kind of definite proof. Lissa won't try to find out because she's afraid of losing her job. She's suspicious…but she doesn't have any real proof. She just thinks it's odd they're treating this one girl…or girls…differently from the others."
Laura shut her eyes for a moment. Another one of her nightmares might be reality. She had always feared there were more than the three Cylon models they had seen. There might be dozens of them.
"The other thing you asked. Lissa is certain there's nothing going on between Dr. Baltar and Natasi. She got very upset when I suggested it so I think she knows something and is covering for her boss. I doubt Baltar would want it getting out that he's frakking…sorry, having a relationship with a machine."
"Don't apologize, John. I think your first description more closely describes anything that might be between Baltar and Natasi. Do you know how many people are working on this project?"
"I've heard her mention Baltar, the Cylon Simon, maybe five or six other names. There's not many. That's one reason she works all the time. They all do. But the small number helps keep it secret. Natasi comes in from time to time and talks to Baltar and Simon, but she's not actually working on the project that Lissa can tell."
"John, this is an amazing amount of information. You outdid yourself."
He smiled. "It cost me the last of my Siren's Kiss, but once Lissa started talking, I just kept asking questions and it all came out."
"Siren's Kiss?"
"It's a mix of ambrosia, aged whiskey and peach brandy. You can't get peach brandy anymore. Nobody's making it. I brought three bottles from Picon. Now it's gone. You can't even find peaches in the grocery store anymore."
"We imported all of our peaches from Saggitaron. Something about the climate in the South there. Peach brandy is very strong. Your drink sounds…potent."
"Better than truth serum. But I gladly sacrificed it for the cause."
"As I've said, you did a wonderful job."
"There's one other thing I should probably mention. The lab where Lissa works is in that big research complex north of the city. Last week somebody was caught and killed trying to break into the complex. There are several other labs out there so no one can be certain that Baltar's lab was his target, but Lissa said nothing else is going on to warrant anyone breaking in."
"I must have missed that on the news."
"It never made the news."
"That's strange."
"Isn't it? Lissa said everybody's really on edge now. The guards shot the guy before he got very far into the complex."
"I wasn't aware that rubber bullets were deadly."
"It seems the guards at that complex get to carry assault rifles loaded with real bullets. Lissa is sure of that because she said they were still cleaning up the…mess the next morning when she got to work. The guy was carrying explosives. Homemade, not much, but enough to take out a room…and make a real mess of him. After he got shot, he blew himself up and injured a couple of the guards. If he had made it to their lab, Lissa said they would be a year or more recovering from the damage."
"What time did it happen?"
"About 02:00 was what she heard. A lot of the time they'll work until midnight so she knows it was after that."
"Who was this person?"
"No one knows. I mean I'm sure someone knows, but no one has told any of them. She said Baltar has been like a cat on a hot stove since then…jumps out of his skin if someone so much as drops a paper clip."
Laura looked at John. "Terrorist?"
"That's what I think. A terrorist, resistance, whatever. You know what this means, don't you?"
"They know about the lab."
"How do you feel about them?"
"Are you asking me for my official stance as a member of our government or as a human?"
"I guess that means there's a difference."
"As a government official, I view all acts of terrorism or rebellion or whatever term you wish to use, as illegal and wrong."
"But as a human?"
"Please understand that I don't in any way condone the taking of a human life, even to achieve a higher goal, but personally, I wish he had succeeded and blown up the lab."
She saw what she took as approval in his eyes.
"I'm sure you're worried about Lissa now," she added.
"I've tried a hundred times to get her to quit that job and get something else. With her skills she could get a job in a fertility clinic tomorrow. But I might as well be talking to a wall. Gaius Baltar has her believing she's making history. They all believe it. Lissa is smart, but I think she has a morality gene missing."
"Perhaps it's her youth."
"She's thirty-two. Old enough to know better. The worst part is that she doesn't even understand why it upsets me so much. I wish that guy had made it. I agree with you. I don't want anybody to get hurt, but I really wish he'd blown up that damned lab."
"I'm sorry. I can tell how much this bothers you. I wish I'd had some other way to get the information I need."
"No, I'm actually glad. I'm going to have to make a decision about something soon. This has helped me. So now my question for you is…how are you going to confront Baltar with this information? I'm really against what they're doing. I really hate that Lissa is part of it, but I still don't want to see her get in trouble. And I don't want to see you put yourself in danger, either."
"I'm not sure yet exactly what I'm going to say to Dr. Baltar. Now that I know some facts I'll decide that tonight. But don't worry about my revealing anything that could identify Lissa...or you. You have my promise that I'll protect both of you. I have an ace that I haven't played with him or anyone yet. I know a reporter, D'Anna Biers. I'm sure she would love to get her hands on this."
"You're going to blackmail Dr. Baltar?"
"If I have to."
"You play hard ball, Laura."
"When the future of the human race is at stake, is there any other kind? I have a horror that as soon as they've achieved their goal they'll start forcing women to bear half-Cylon children."
"If they were paying enough they probably wouldn't have to force anyone to do it."
"You're right. There goes the rest of my education budget."
"You need to be careful, Laura. Something tells me they won't take your interference lying down."
"I don't expect they will. I'm prepared for that."
After dinner he again walked with her back to her apartment. The day had been warm for a winter day, but the evening was much colder than two days previously. She had not brought a coat, and he took off the bomber jacket he was wearing and put it around her shoulders.
It smelled of leather and aftershave and him. It smelled so good that it made her dizzy.
"Now you'll be cold," she said.
"I'm used to it. The winters got cold where I grew up."
"Where was that?"
"Port Ithaca in the north of Virgon."
"Did you have family there when the Cylons attacked?"
"My family was gone by then. I lost my dad and my four older brothers when I was fourteen. A really bad storm. He had a fishing trawler. They almost made it back to port. They were less than ten miles out. Three of my brothers eventually…their bodies were recovered. We never found my dad or my oldest brother. My mom…you have to understand how much my mom and dad loved each other…thirty some years together and they…she didn't make it quite a year after he died. I came home from school one day. She'd left a note on the kitchen table asking me to forgive her. She went up to the cliffs overlooking the harbor and joined my dad."
"Oh, John. Oh, I'm so sorry, so very sorry."
"That was a long time ago. Twenty-five years."
"Time doesn't always heal some losses. We just learn to hide them even as we live with them."
"It sounds like you had a similar experience."
"My parents and my brother were killed by a suicide bomber on Tauron a little over twelve years ago."
"Your father was Ambassador Roslin?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. That was so tragic. Useless and tragic. A woman I loved very much was wounded on Tauron about seven years after that. She was a Marine. She died on Picon when the Cylons attacked."
They walked in silence for a while. Did that help explain some of the deep sadness she felt right now in John Gallagher? A lost child, a lost family…and a lost love?
"I hate the Cylons," John finally said. "They cost me a lot...more than I can talk about."
"They've cost all of us a lot."
When they got to the entrance of her building, she came very close to asking him in for a drink, but decided that would be a mistake. He wasn't married, but he was living with a woman. She could justify having dinner with him because of the information he had, but there was no way she could justify having him in for a drink. She slipped the jacket off her shoulders, handed it to him and waited while he put it on.
"Thank you. You can't know how much I appreciate all you've done."
"I hope it helps you…us."
"It will. Thank you again. Would you let me hug you?"
"What do you think?"
"One word, John."
In answer, he gently put his arms around her. She put hers lightly around him and they stood that way for a few seconds just breathing the crisp, cold air and each other.
She suddenly felt a strange kinship with this beautiful man, a man Bill Adama had called open and easy-going, a man Chuck Winters had called a rascal, a man she had called an incorrigible flirt. He was all of those things, but he was also a man who went to a lot of pains to keep anyone from seeing that he had a broken heart. That part of him she understood very well. Oh, how well she understood hiding a broken heart.
"Thank you," she whispered against his shoulder and her own broken heart was in those words.
Something happened to her in that instant, something that she couldn't comprehend. Had she finally let go of a piece of the past? Had just saying those words to him exorcised part of her pain? Or was it merely being in his arms that was affecting her so much? They mutually ended the embrace and stepped back, and for a long time neither of them spoke. The air between them was so charged that she could hardly breathe.
"If I can…do anything else for you…" he finally said. His words broke whatever spell she had been under.
"I'll call you." she said and turned to go inside.
"That shower trick you asked about. I'm not sure I can explain it. I'd probably have to show you."
She started laughing. He was going to have the last word this time just like she'd had it two nights earlier. "I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight, John."
"Goodnight, Laura. I guess three's not the magic number either."
They were both back in familiar territory with broken hearts tucked neatly away.
...
Dr. Gaius Baltar was fifteen minutes late for their lunch. He also looked to Laura like a worried man. He had appeared extremely confident and polished during the negotiations. Now his collar-length dark hair looked unkempt, there were dark circles under his eyes and he had missed a small spot on his jaw as he had shaved that morning. There was a button missing on his shirt, or he had missed buttoning it.
"Dr. Baltar," she leaned across the table and shook his hand.
"Madame Secretary. Can I ask what is so important about meeting right now? I'm a very busy man."
"I'm sure you are. I won't waste any time, then. I want to talk about funding. A big portion of my education budget has been taken away from me by your Cylon friends and given to you."
"My project has become quite costly. We're succeeding, but it has cost a lot more than we originally thought."
"What are you be doing that is costing so much?"
"I can't discuss that with you."
"Because it's a secret, right?"
"That's right," he said like she was a child.
Some of his former arrogance was returning. Her father had always told her that arrogance is often a cover for uncertainty, the ultimate bluff.
"You know what I think, Dr. Baltar. I think your secret project involves something you told me couldn't happen. I think it involves the creation of a human-cylon hybrid. Cats and dogs was the analogy you used in an attempt to make me feel ignorant. Not possible, you said. And yet you've done it."
"That's ridiculous, utterly and completely ridiculous."
She smiled. "Ridiculous? The truth is written all over your face. Tell me what you're doing, then."
He drew himself up. "I don't have to tell you anything. Simon and Natasi said…"
"Oh, how brave you are, hiding behind your Cylon collaborators. Tell me, Dr. Baltar, how does it feel to be a traitor to the human race? Was it their idea to create a half-breed or was that yours? Do you really think you will receive the credit for it when it happens?"
"Of course I will. They have no desire to get credit. They don't care about anything except the end result. And it will happen. This is the next step in our own evolution. This is science in its purest form. What we've achieved to this point is nothing short of a miracle."
He seemed to realize suddenly and with horror that he had just confirmed what she had said. "That is, of course, assuming you're right about all this…which you're not. Nothing like that is happening in my lab. We're just doing further experimenting with artificial intelligence which was banned, of course, following the First Cylon War. That's why we aren't talking about it. That's the big secret."
"Then what is costing so much?"
"It's very…very expensive to pay so many programmers to work on these AI programs. Testing and simulation costs are…astronomical."
"Then why are you thinking right now about the high cost of paying human surrogates? How much do you pay them each time you do one of your implantation procedures? How much for all the testing to find the perfect subjects and surrogates? How much for harvesting the eggs and sperm you use in your procedures. That's what's costing so much, isn't it?"
It had been an educated guess on her part, but apparently she was correct. His eyes confirmed what she'd just said. She had guessed right twice. She wouldn't try again. She had made her point.
"I want my budget funding back, Dr. Baltar. I want to educate the Colony's human children. Get the money for your traitorous and unholy project from another source. Or go private for your funding. I'm sure there are some wealthy entrepreneurs out there who will back you. Some humans have no more scruples than you do. Do I make myself clear?"
"Are you threatening me?" He asked, but his voice was weaker than it was before.
"Yes, I am. I have sources within the government. I know that there was a bit of…unpleasantness at your facility a short time ago. How safe do you think you would be personally if word of what you're doing is leaked to the press? I happen to know a reporter, someone who was not afraid to go up against Cavil himself. What do you think she would do if I were to give her a call?"
"You wouldn't dare?"
"Are you willing to take that chance? I want my funding back."
"There might be something I can do about…your funding."
"I expect you to do it, then." Laura Roslin smiled. "Now, shall we order lunch?"
"I'm not hungry," Baltar said and stood. "I think I'll pass on lunch today."
"Hurry back then and report our conversation to Simon and Natasi. You have until the end of next week. If I don't see my budget restored by then, a certain reporter is going to get a call."
"You'll regret this."
"No, I won't. Oh, and in case something were to happen to me, this goes to the press immediately. My mobile phone has been on during our entire conversation. Everything we've said is being recorded. I personally don't see how you can sleep at night knowing what you've done, what you're trying to do. You're a traitor to the human race, Dr. Baltar."
He turned and left without another word.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief and picked up her phone. "Did you get all of that, Billy?"
"Every single word," Billy answered. "I'll make copies of the audio right away."
She smiled and ended the call.
That night she went to the basement of her apartment building and used her key to open the storage area that was allotted to her unit. It took her nearly twenty minutes of moving dusty boxes around, but she finally found the one she was looking for, one of the boxes that had been moved from her parent's house before it was sold following their deaths. She opened the box. Among the other bottles of liquor were two bottles of peach brandy. She smiled and took them upstairs. One of them was destined to be a gift. The other she would keep just in case…just in case she ever invited John Gallagher in for a drink.
The following Monday she got a call from someone in the Accounting Office. Funds that had erroneously been shifted to another account had been restored to her education account.
Before she could pick up the phone again, Adele buzzed her and asked if she would take a call from Colonel Charles Winters. She would. He asked her to go to dinner and the theater with him on Saturday. She kept her answer to one word. Yes.
She called Bill and arranged to meet him for lunch the next day.
She called John and arranged to meet him for dinner the following Wednesday night. She had a gift for him.
She suddenly felt like a social butterfly.
After so many years spent in the cocoon of her job, it felt good to spread her wings.