Chapter 23
Three Ways of Looking at Snow
Following the destruction of the lab run by Dr. Gaius Baltar, organized terrorists attacks abruptly ceased for a period of many months. Much speculation ensued as to the cause with the main rumors being that all the terrorists involved had either been killed in the explosion and fire or had been captured and executed in secret by the Cylons. No confirmation of either theory was ever found and both rumors were denied by the military who handled the investigation and by the Cylons who insisted that the military keep looking.
-Bartell, History of the Second Cylon War
.
Four days after being shot Kara felt like she was ready to climb the walls. Four days since Fisk had cut the bullet out of her, her wound was healing well. Tomorrow would be her last day on the antibiotics. She no longer had the big bandage around her leg, just small ones over the stitches and the entrance wound. Fisk said he would take the stitches out in a couple of days or she could do it herself with the small, sharp scissors in the first aid kit. She thought she could handle that with no problem. Snip and pull. That's all there was to it.
After everyone left for work, she took a shower, washed her hair and got dressed. Then she did something she'd never done since she'd lived in Caprica City. She called a transport instead of taking the subway. She had the driver drop her off a few doors down from Conoy's New and Used Books near Caprica University.
She was wearing a new pair of jeans that Jared had bought for her, blue denim, a size larger than the tight black ones she wore to work. The larger size was more comfortable on her leg. She was wearing a new sweater that he'd bought, too, a red one. She asked him if he had gotten her red so it wouldn't show blood. He told her that was a stupid thing to say, that he'd gotten her a red sweater because it looked good with her blond hair. He wanted her to wait and wear the new outfit when they met Frogman at Zeno's later in the week. She knew she would have to take it off today before Jared got home from work.
She wasn't limping anymore, but she still took it easy walking up the sidewalk. She expected the bookstore to be closed. After all, wasn't that usually what happened when the owner of a shop died or disappeared or whatever? She wondered what had happened to Leoben's body. Did the Cylons have funerals or did they recycle the parts? Jared had told her that they'd sent another Simon to take the place of the one she'd killed at the lab. Did that mean they'd sent another Leoben down to the bookstore? Or was this the one who had been in the camp and she'd killed another one four nights earlier?
She got to the edge of the display window. The lights inside the bookstore were on. She moved closer to the door, all the while pretending to be looking at the books in the window. She kept her sunglasses on.
Leoben was moving around inside. So the Cylons on the basestar had sent another one of him, too. He saw her looking in the window, but did he recognize her? To go in or not to go in? Her hand was on the door handle. She turned it and pushed. A bell over the door made a little tinkling noise. She felt like the bookstore was drawing her in.
She stepped inside and closed the door. It smelled like the school library back on Picon. It smelled of wooden floors and shelves and books. There was the faintest aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Did Cylons drink coffee? Did Cylons need coffee to wake up like humans did? Didn't that mess up their circuits? Were the skinjobs that different from the metal ones?
"Can I help you find something?" Leoben asked.
"I'm just browsing," Kara said.
Acting like she was looking around, she moved closer to Leoben. He carried a stack of books over to a counter about halfway back in the store. She saw a register and more books piled on the counter and some papers, an old telephone, a stack of mail, a cup of pens and pencils, a coffee mug, a roll of paper towels. The whole counter was a mess. Leoben started putting some information into the computer.
She took off her sunglasses. He looked up again. There was no recognition in his eyes at all. She couldn't have changed that much in the ten months since she'd seen him at the camp. She didn't understand why he hadn't recognized her. Cylons remembered everything.
"You're a student at Caprica U, aren't you?"
"No."
Still no reaction from Leoben. He finally said. "I thought maybe I'd seen you in here buying textbooks before."
Kara smiled. "Nope, not me. How long have you run this place?"
"Let's see. Almost six years now."
"Six years? You've been in Caprica City for six years?"
"I've lived in Caprica City my whole life. That's a lot longer than six years."
"Do you have family here? Any brothers? Like maybe a twin brother?"
He smiled, a little sadly she thought. "I'm an only child. My parents died years ago. I don't remember them. I was raised in an orphanage."
"Have you ever been to Antioch?"
"I don't travel much. Is that where you're from?"
"I was born on Picon. I just spent some time in Antioch thanks to the Cylons."
"You were in a refugee camp?"
"Yeah."
"Was it as bad as I've heard?"
She shrugged. "I survived. A lot of people didn't."
"Did it test your faith?"
Kara thought for a minute. How much should she tell this Leoben? He had to be a Cylon. He looked exactly like the one who had come to the camp, exactly like the one she'd killed four nights ago, right down to the sloppy way he dressed, right down to the shape of his ears, and yet this one didn't creep her out like the one in the camp did. He had to be another copy. How could two Cylon copies look exactly alike and yet act so different?
She finally answered him. "In a way it tested my faith. Not the camp so much as what happened before I went to the camp. My mom died on Picon and then somebody killed my father. But just recently I got some of my faith back. Maybe I've started to believe that I'm destined to do something."
"I'm sorry about your parents. War is a cruel thing. Humans are a cruel species. We've been waging war against one another since the beginning of time. We kill each other for all kinds of wrong reasons. It's happened before. It will definitely happen again."
"Humans didn't start the war. The Cylons did."
"But humans created the Cylons. We dared to play God. We dared to assume the role of Creator. We created them first to serve us as mechanical slaves, to work our mines and build our space stations and then someone decided they would make the ultimate soldier, the ultimate killing machine. The Colonies unleashed them to make war on each other. And yet we were surprised when they learned our weaknesses and rebelled and made war on us. We got what we deserved. Only God should create life. Only God is perfection."
"Cylons aren't life like humans are life. They're just machines, computers. They get programmed. They don't think and feel like humans do."
"Are you sure about that?"
"I'm sure."
"My name is Leoben Conoy."
"I know."
"You know?"
"Conoy's New and Used Books," Kara quickly covered her mistake.
"That's me. What's your name and email address? I'll put you on the list of readers I send flyers to each month. I've got a new shipment of religious books coming in a couple of weeks. Besides textbooks, I specialize in books on religion…and mysticism, if you're interested in that. It's an interesting subject, mysticism."
She almost told him the truth about her name and then thought better of it. "Carrie…and you don't need to put me on a list. I'm reading something right now but I'll want something when I finish that. I'll check back later."
"You do that."
The bell over the door tinkled. Two students wearing backpacks walked in. Leoben recognized them. "Welcome back," he said to them. "Your books came in this week."
Kara left the bookstore and started walking toward the University subway station. He was a Cylon. He had to be, but why didn't he know it? Unless he did and was lying to her. Maybe he was programmed not to know it. But why would the other Cylons do that, program one of their own to think it was a human? If that was the case, they'd done a good job. She'd seen his eyes. He was telling her the truth. He really believed that he was a human.
If she told Jared and he told Frogman, someone would come kill this one, too. Did she want that on her conscience? This Leoben seemed harmless, more of a thinker than a threat to humans. But shouldn't someone know there was another Cylon model? A fourth one? If this one wasn't the one from the camp and wasn't the one that she'd killed, were there more copies of him? Were there more models? Was killing the skinjobs really like unplugging a toaster? They bled real blood. She knew that much. She had seen the dark pools of it on the concrete that night under Simon's and the other Leoben's heads. She didn't know why now, but she hadn't expected to see blood.
She suddenly wondered what the other Leoben and Simon had been arguing about the night she shot them. Maybe if she ever went back to the bookstore, she could figure out a way to ask this Leoben what he thought about human-Cylon babies.
By the time she walked the five blocks to the University subway station, her leg was hurting. The subway car was crowded and she wasn't able to sit down on her way back to the station near their apartment. Maybe that was for the best. The pain helped keep her mind off the questions it was now filled with.
...
Lee sat at his desk in front of his computer monitor and got ready to watch the recording of Lissa Colson's interrogation. Major Parker hadn't allowed him to sit in on the interview because he had a personal connection to Lissa and John, but Parker and Agent Darren wanted his take on what she had said.
Captain Jill Hadrian had conducted the interview. Sergeant Ackerman had been in the room, but had not asked any questions.
Lee clicked on the forward arrow and the recording started playing. The camera was focused on Lissa seated at a small table. He could hear Hadrian and Ackerman but couldn't see them.
"Good morning. I'm Captain Hadrian and this is Sergeant Ackerman. We need to inform you that this interview is being recorded. For verification purposes, please state your full name."
"Elissa Ariel Colson. I go by Lissa."
"Where do you work, Ms. Colson?"
"The North Caprica Research Park."
"Who do you work for?"
"Dr. Gaius Baltar. Why am I here? I've already told some guys that I don't know anything about what happened the other night."
Lee could hear the defensiveness in Lissa's voice.
"We're interviewing all employees who work for Dr. Baltar or with him in the lab that burned late last week."
"I said I don't know anything about that."
"How long have you worked for Dr. Baltar?"
"Two and a half years."
"Have you ever spoken to anyone other than your colleagues about your work in the lab?"
"No, I have not. We signed an agreement not to."
"You never spoke about it, then, to the man you live with, John Gallagher?"
"John wouldn't understand what I do even if I printed it in big block letters for him."
"How long have you and Mr. Gallagher been living together?"
"Almost two years. And it's Captain Gallagher. He's a pilot. He flies for a cargo company."
"So in the two years you've lived with Captain Gallagher, you've never said one word to him about your work?"
Lissa shrugged. "He knows we're doing research on artificial intelligence. That's about it. I'm not sure he even understands exactly what AI is. It's a very complex subject."
"So he's never asked you any questions about your work?"
"John could care less what I do. He mostly has two things on his mind all the time. One of them is flying."
In the background Sergeant Ackerman coughed. Or was that a snicker that he tried to cover?
"Are you aware that Captain Gallagher was recently seen on several occasions having dinner with Laura Roslin, the Secretary of Education? They've met at Caprica Park, too."
Lissa looked at the ceiling and then shook her head. "That lying son of a bitch! That gods damned lying son of a bitch!"
"You don't know of any reason they might be having dinner together?"
"No hell I do not. But it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Both of them denied it. I could tell, though, when she walked up to our table that night in Bonnie Patrice there was something between them. Just the way John was looking at her gave it away."
"In your opinion, then, Ms. Colson, what would you say is the nature of the relationship between Captain Gallagher and Ms. Roslin."
"He's frakking her. That's the only kind of relationship John would have with a woman."
"And you're certain he couldn't have told her anything about your work?"
"He couldn't tell her what he doesn't know."
"Thank you for coming in, Ms. Colson. You can go. We'll be back in touch if we have any more questions."
Lissa got up and left the interrogation room. Now there was one angry woman. She'd lied about discussing her work with John and she'd lied about what she was doing at that lab, but there was nothing fake about her anger at finding out John was seen having dinner with Laura.
Before Captain Hadrian turned off the recording, Ackerman laughed and said, "I don't think Gallagher is going to get any from her for a while."
"We'll ask him to come in anyway. Let's see if he has the same thing to say."
"I'm curious to see if he'll admit he's frakking the Secretary of Education. Why would a woman in her position want to get involved with a cargo pilot?"
"You must not have seen him or you wouldn't have asked that question." Hadrian said.
The recording ended.
Lee was surprised at how much sympathy he suddenly felt for Lissa. He didn't like her very much, but some things weren't right. John should have gotten out of the relationship with Lissa before he started seeing Laura. It wasn't fair to either woman. He wondered if his father knew what was going on.
What should he do, though? How much should he tell Parker? Whatever kind of relationship John was having with Laura, he'd still told her about Lissa's work. Should Lee now lie to protect a friend? Protect two of them? Should he tell Parker that John knew what was going on in that lab? That he'd told Laura? Or should he let Parker think John's relationship with Laura was personal. As John was fond of saying, his decision was really a no-brainer.
Major Parker opened the door. "Done?"
"Yes, sir."
"What do you think? Is she telling the truth?"
"Yes, sir. I don't have any doubts about that at all."
"Cavil has had one of his toadies following Ms. Roslin for months, a guy named Aaron Doral. Now there's a wormy little bastard. The Cylons really want to get something on her. I saw the report. She's been seeing Gallagher for a couple of weeks now."
"I just hope they both know what they're doing. I thought John had given up other women when he started living with Lissa. Of course she works all the time. Maybe John got lonely."
Parker looked off into the distance for a moment. "Based on what Darren told me, Cavil thought they had Ms. Roslin this time. He thought he could tie her to this terrorist attack through Gallagher. Darren thinks Cavil has been gunning for her since she stood up to him over the refugee camps. She's the most popular of Adar's Cabinet members with the people. There's even talk of asking her to run for President when Adar's second term is up. Cavil's not too pleased about that. He was really hoping to get something on her. All it looks like now is just an affair between her and Gallagher. It's not the best timing, but it won't get her charged with treason."
"Don't expect John to admit to anything."
"Based on their relationship, we've still got to call him in."
"Sir, if I might make a suggestion, let Ackerman talk to him."
"Why? Hadrian is lead on Ms. Colson."
"No offense to Captain Hadrian but she's a woman. John just has a way with women. She won't find out anything useful. I doubt Ackerman will either, but he'll stand a better chance than Captain Hadrian will."
"I'll take that under consideration, but Hadrian is an experienced interrogator. I think you're selling her short."
"I hope so, sir. Who's going to talk to Laura?"
"Darren and I have an appointment to talk to her day after tomorrow. We're going to her office, not asking her to come down here. We don't want it getting out to the press that we hauled the Secretary of Education in and questioned her. We also know the President thinks very highly of her. That's probably why Cavil is sending Doral along with us. He doesn't trust us to ask her the tough questions."
"Does Laura know what's coming?"
"I doubt it. It's always better if the subject is unaware of what she's going to be asked. It makes reactions much more authentic and revealing as you just witnessed. I'm going to have to order you not to mention this to anyone, especially not your father or Gallagher."
"No, sir. I won't."
"We're aware that Ms. Roslin and your father are friends."
"They were on the negotiating team together," Lee said. "They've known each other a long time because my dad's father and her father were close friends."
"Yes. We know. We've had a break on the motorcycle by the way. The guard who was on the road that night has narrowed it to one of several Ducarvos manufactured during the last five years. There're almost four thousand of those models registered in Caprica City. We're going to look at the owners of all of them."
"Sir, that's…that will be a nearly impossible task."
"We got zilch on the rifle and nothing ever turned up on the possible bullet wound, so it's our only real lead at the moment. The other terrorist or terrorists seem to have vanished like smoke. We're not even sure how they got away. We found evidence that someone had landed a helicopter in a meadow close to the woods, but it turns out to have been one of the television crews early that morning trying for a better angle. The guards ran them off."
"Where do we start with the motorcycle riders?"
"Darren has his agents contacting businesses that have one or more of the bikes registered to them. That accounts for nearly ten percent. Most of them are delivery services. We're going to start interviewing the riders since they'll be easier to find than individual owners. We'll be tracking down the individuals and interviewing them as we can find them. Everyone will now be doing solo interviews. We'll record them, of course, but there's too many to interview for us to keep doing it in teams."
"Has anyone stopped to figure how long that will take? Four thousand. That's a nearly impossible task, sir."
Major Parker looked as tired as Lee knew he must be. Parker was almost living at the base now. He put his hand on the back of his neck and squeezed, massaging the tight muscles. "I agree that this is probably an exercise in futility, but Cavil expects us to keep pursing it. If we don't, they will. Do you have a better idea, Lieutenant?"
"No sir, I don't."
Parker smiled, a thin, humorless smile. "Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe our terrorist will be one of the first ones we interview. Maybe we'll get a confession from him right away."
"I wouldn't hold my breath counting on that to happen, sir," Lee said.
"No. We couldn't be that lucky." Parker left and then stuck his head back in the doorway. "By the way, you probably want to head for home soon. It's started to snow. I heard the roads are already getting slick."
...
"Hey, Kara, put down that book and come here for a minute," Jared called to her.
"I'm just getting to a good part," she called back. "What's so important?"
"You'll see," he answered.
"Where are you?"
"In the bedroom."
Kara put the folded sheet of stationery in the book and closed it before she got up from the sofa where she had been stretched out. She walked into his bedroom. Her leg had finally stopped hurting after her visit to Leoben's bookstore that morning.
"Why do you have the lights turned off?"
"Because it's easier to see outside. Come over here to the window."
She joined him and looked down at the building's small inner courtyard with its two lights in diagonal corners. There should have been four, one light in each corner, but two of the special bulbs had burned out and the landlord said he couldn't get replacements. He was too cheap to replace the entire light fixtures.
"Snow," she said. "It's snowing. It never snowed where I lived on Picon. The first time I ever saw snow was in the refugee camp."
"It snowed a lot in Kinsdale where I was raised. My mom and dad used to take me sledding when I was a kid. We had so much fun."
"The snow in the camp always looked dirty."
"It's beautiful here. Look at it coming down so soft and white. Everything's almost covered." He put his arm around her.
"I wonder if Cylons like snow."
Jared snickered. "Can you see one of those big metal motherfrakkers on a sled going down the steep hill in the park? I'd pay a lot of cubits to see that."
"I didn't mean them."
"There's no difference. Some of them are just covered in artificial skin, that's all. Underneath they're all the same, just hardware and circuits and chips like a robot I made when I was a kid."
"When I shot that Cylon at the lab, there was blood. I could see it on the concrete under his head. It looked just like the blood from the other guy…the human."
"It was oil. The stuff they use to keep their circuits cool."
She knew better, but she decided not to argue with him. "Where did Karl and Maggie say they were going?"
"Ice skating. Busting their butts is more like it."
"I don't know. Karl was really good on a skateboard."
"Different sports entirely," Jared said. He leaned over and nuzzled her ear.
"Don't. I'm still not up to playing."
"I know. I know. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm…" He took her hand and put it on the front of his jeans. He was really turned on.
She angrily jerked her hand away. "What? You expect me to take care of you? I said I'm not up to it."
She pulled away from him and left the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. What was wrong with her tonight? Her anger was way out of proportion to what had just happened. Maybe she was having some kind of withdrawal from being on the motorcycle. She really missed riding that bike. Was she turning into some kind of speed junky? Was she cranky now because she hadn't gotten her speed fix in four days…or was something else bothering her?
She settled back on the sofa but couldn't get back into the book. The incident with Jared had spoiled her desire to continue reading.
He came out of the bedroom and sat down in one of the armchairs. "What's wrong, Kara?"
"I'm just not in the mood to play right now, okay? Give it a rest or go take care of it yourself."
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, I'm not mad at you. Look, I'm thinking about moving out and getting a place of my own."
"Why?" He looked stricken. "Because of what I just did?"
"No, that has nothing to do with it. I just think it might be for the best."
"Why? I don't understand."
"Because of Karl…and you, too."
"I still don't understand."
Kara struggled to express what she was feeling. "It's just that…since I'm the one most likely to get caught…or…killed, I think it would be better if there's nothing to tie me to either one of you. You can stay here and help Maggie and Karl pay the rent. I make enough that I can afford a place of my own. They can't."
"They'll both be going to the Academy in the fall. They'll be gone in eight months. Then it will just be us."
"That's the other thing." Oh, gods, how could she say this except to just say it? "What if I meet somebody I want to date? I mean how awkward would that be? Or what if you meet somebody?"
"Is that what this is all about? You've met some guy and want to go out with him? Is that why you don't want to play?"
"No! I haven't met anybody. I care about you, Jared. I really do. I know you think of me as closer to your age because Carrie is…was…whatever. I've even started to think of myself as almost twenty. But I'm not even seventeen years old yet. I just don't want to…to tie myself down. You shouldn't either."
"It's that stupid dream of yours, isn't it? The guy you told me about two years ago. The prince in your story," he gestured to the book. "You really think you're going to meet a guy like that, don't you?"
"Dreams aren't stupid. I don't hear you calling Maggie's dream of going to the Academy and being a Raptor pilot stupid."
"That's different."
"How is it different?"
"Because she can control that. You can't control meeting a guy who doesn't even exist. He's just a character in a book. For the gods sakes, Kara, he's not a real person."
"Why don't you let me worry about that?"
"Please, Kara. Don't move out. Please."
He sounded like he was going to cry. This conversation was going to have to wait. She couldn't handle it tonight.
"Okay, okay. I just said I was thinking about it. I didn't say I was definitely going to do it. But maybe you and me…maybe we should stop playing so much. It's just going to make it harder on both of us if I ever do leave."
"Whatever you say…whatever. Just promise me you won't move out."
Instead of promising him anything she asked, "Do you think there could ever be any such thing as a good Cylon?"
"A what?"
"A good Cylon. Could there be any such thing as a good Cylon?"
"I can't believe you asked me a question like that. What is this? Some kind of test Frogman put you up to? Of course there's no such thing as a good Cylon."
"There's good humans and bad humans. Why couldn't there be good Cylons and bad Cylons?"
"All Cylons are bad. All of them. It's in their programming. Are you running a fever or something? Has that leg gotten infected and gone to your brain?"
She shook her head. "Take it easy. It was just a question, okay? Just a stupid question. I know there's no such thing as a good Cylon. Why do you think I'm not upset about killing two of them?"
"Two of them? I thought you said it was one Cylon and one human?"
"It was one Cylon and one human. I'm not thinking straight right now."
"I'll say you're not thinking straight. Gods, Kara, how could you even think a Cylon might be good?"
"No reason. No reason at all. I agree. There's no such thing as a good Cylon."
"Holy frak, Kara. A good Cylon? Read some more about the prince of your dreams. I'm going back to my room and watch it snow."
Kara picked up her book and opened it to the page where she had stuck Laura Roslin's note. She suddenly had a thought. What if she wrote Roslin an unsigned letter telling her there was another Cylon model? What if she told her without telling her who he was? Just so that someone in the government would know. What if there were more than four models? Maybe she would do it. Maybe she would write that letter.
She started reading again.
Olliver went to the garden at twilight to bid farewell to Esmari. With the help of the Sorcerer he had mastered the spell to tame the Griffin of Gyron. He must leave now to fly on the back of the great beast to the island of Hesperides to find the adamantine sword of Perseus. Then he must slay the Cyclops of Seriphos and free the people of the island.
Kara turned the page. Pressed between the next two pages of the book was a small flower, old and very fragile. It wasn't much bigger than her thumb. The five petals looked liked they had one time been white. Now they were a soft cream color, almost the same color as the page of the book. Golden-yellow dust from the center of the flower had stained the opposite page. Kara had no idea what it was. She was afraid to touch it for fear it would crumble. Had Laura Roslin placed the small white flower in the book at this spot? Kara kept reading.
"I fear for you," Esmari said to Olliver.
"I am bound by my pledge to perform the last two tasks and free my father. When I have done that I will return. We will be together."
"And if you are killed, if you die on your quest, am I to spend my days languishing, never knowing of your fate?"
Olliver listened to her words with pain in his heart. He knew that there was great risk ahead for him. He knew that he might die in his attempt to complete the last two tasks. He saw the tears in her emerald eyes, felt the emotion well in him.
"I will return to you. I promise. Our fate is to be together."
He took her in his arms, breathed in the headiness of the garden's perfume and of her. Her arms slid around his neck. "Then may the gods go with you," she whispered to him. "I will wait for you. I will wait for you forever."
She turned her face up to his and at last offered him her mouth in a kiss. He drank in the sensation, the feel of her lips, the honey of her tongue. Through the kiss he offered her his whole heart. She took it and returned hers to him. They were bound now with a cord that he knew would never be broken. The deepest and truest of loves blossomed in their first kiss and was borne into their hearts, into the twining of their fates, to the very depths of their souls.
Kara sighed. Could kissing a guy ever be like that? Could she ever really feel that way? Was Jared right? Was a man like Olliver nothing but a stupid dream? One thing she now understood though was why Laura Roslin had put the small white flower at this spot. Kara felt a bond with the Secretary of Education. One time she had probably dreamed of a prince and true love's first kiss, too. Kara wondered if she had ever found him.
She carefully closed the book so as not to damage the fragile white flower and turned off the lamp. She went over to the window, pulled back the curtains and looked at the snow. There was something magical in those drifting white flakes sparkling in the soft glow of the street lamp. She could almost see white flowers, tiny white flowers no bigger than her thumb. The effect was so magical that it gave her hope that her dream could come true, that someday she would find her blue-eyed prince with the wings over his heart.
...
"Dear gods," Laura said. "What happened to you?"
She stood at the side of the booth in Channing's looking at John. There were two partially-healed half-inch cuts on his forehead above his left eyebrow. The area around the cuts was also the color of a several-days-old bruise.
He smiled. "I'm afraid I'd better not tell you. You'll think I don't have enough sense to walk and think at the same time."
She put the bottle of peach brandy on the table. "Well maybe this will make it feel better."
She saw his surprise as he picked up the bottle. "Where did you find this?"
"It belonged to my father. He enjoyed a glass occasionally after dinner. It's yours now. Just a small token of how much I appreciate what you did for me. Now you can mix some more of your Siren's Kiss."
"I can't take something like this from you…something that belonged to your father."
"You can and you will. I have another bottle. I won't take no for an answer. My father would approve. He would have liked you."
"Thank you. This really means a lot to me."
She sat down across from him. "Was it painful?" She pointed to her forehead.
"Let's just say my head connected with something heads aren't designed to connect with. But I don't remember a lot about it because it knocked me out. Don't ask me to say any more than that, okay?"
"How is Lissa doing since the incident?"
"They're already back at work. They're setting up temporarily in one of the other buildings at the complex. There's already a new copy of Simon out there with them. I think Baltar is on tranquilizers. Cavil has assigned two centurions to protect him, but Lissa thinks he's more afraid of the centurions than he is of any terrorists."
"I want you to know I didn't breathe a word of what you told me to anyone except Bill. I shouldn't have told him, but I know him well enough to know he would never say anything. He shared my fears and concerns during the negotiations, too."
"I never thought the resistance got its information from you."
"The President is really upset about what happened. Bill is upset, too, because he knows how easily certain plans of his could be ruined if these attacks continue and cause the Cylons to start some kind of retribution…or, gods forbid, do something like pulling all the personnel off the battlestars and destroying them…or just destroying them with the people still on board. I wish there was a way to communicate that to the leaders of the resistance. The Cylons won't allow attacks of this kind to continue without retaliation. This project is too important to them."
"Maybe the resistance will lay low for a while now that they've destroyed that lab," John said. "It would certainly be the smart thing to do."
"Most terrorists are not known for doing the smart thing."
"Some might have enough sense to know when to stop."
"Let's hope so. Has Lissa been questioned yet?"
"Yesterday."
"How did it go?"
John shrugged. "I'm not sure. We'd agreed beforehand that she would act like I wasn't interested in what she did and that I wasn't smart enough to understand it even if she told me. She has more at stake in keeping this thing quiet than I do. After all, she's the one who signed the agreement. When she got back from her interview we had an argument about something and she went out to the new lab soon after. We haven't talked since then. She's been out there since early this morning. She's doing fine now that she's working again so I'm going back to flying tomorrow night. "
"I'm really glad you were able to meet me tonight, then. Bill came to see me at my office on the night after the lab was destroyed. Someone has connected us. I told you I'd protect you as a source. There's only one way I can think of to do that. I'm going to be questioned, too."
"Don't worry about me. You need to think about yourself."
"Actually this will help us both."
"Okay. What are we talking about?"
"There's really only one way to explain why we've been meeting. You and I never spoke about that lab. Neither one of us has a clue what went on out there. We're having a love affair."
He caught on immediately. "I like that. I like it a lot. Problem is…do you think anybody will believe it?"
"Bill believed it."
"Uh-oh."
"I set him straight of course, but he believed it at first without question."
"Not counting Bill, do you really think anyone else you know will believe you have the bad judgment to get involved with a guy like me?"
"I can't believe you would even ask me a question like that. John, you are…you're hot for lack of a better word." She realized she had embarrassed him. She had embarrassed herself as well. She hurried on. "If anything people will probably have a harder time believing you would get involved with me. You can have your pick of women. I'm thirty-nine years old. I'm not young and beautiful like your…"
"Whoa. Stop right there. Just stop. You've obviously got no clue about the effect you have on men in general and me in particular. So just stop right there. You want people to think we're having an affair then I'll gladly go along. You do realize what this might do to your career, don't you?"
"You mean whatever career the Cylons are going to allow me to have?"
He looked at her for a moment before he said, "Do me a favor, Laura, and put your hand across the table."
"Why?"
"Just do it, please." She did and he leaned forward, took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "Now look at me the way you would look at a man you're having a love affair with. Relax, come on, relax. Let's not talk about the Cylons tonight. We've talked about them enough." He smiled. "That's not what lovers talk about."
His hand was warm and he took his thumb and rubbed it in gentle circles over her palm. She could hardly believe the almost immediate effect it had on her. She felt herself relaxing.
"That's better," he said.
Something about the way he was rubbing her palm made it difficult for her to think. "What should we talk about then?"
"Each other…things we enjoy doing. Go ahead. You first."
"Tell me about the shower," she said almost in a whisper.
"The shower?"
"You know what I'm talking about. If we were going to…enjoy the shower together…what would we do?"
"I'm not sure I should talk about that right now. This is hardly the time or the place."
"Try. What would we do first?"
He took a deep breath. "Okay…well…first I'd kiss you. That's always how we start…always…nice and slow because we wouldn't want to be in a hurry. We'd kiss until kissing just wasn't enough."
"All right. We kiss…slowly…until that's not enough. Then?"
"Then we add…touching…to the kissing…until that's not enough, either."
"Touching…and kissing," she said a little breathlessly.
"Then I'd get you to put your arms around my neck and I'd make sure your back is against the wall."
"Against the wall?"
He took another deep breath. "The shower wall, Laura. You do realize we're in the shower with no clothes on, don't you?"
"Yes, I do realize that. So we're in the shower with no clothes on and my arms are around your neck and my back is against the wall. We've been kissing and touching. And then?"
"Your arms are tight around my neck, remember?"
"Yes."
"You see the real trick to doing something like this in the shower is not to…not to…engage…not to…what is the word I'm looking for?"
"Consummate?"
"That's it…consummate. You don't want to consummate it before you're both ready. The mistake most people make with the shower is…consummating it before they're both ready. You see it's difficult to maintain…you see you're both…when you're standing like that…to make it really good, you need to be…ready before you start to…before you consummate it… so you kiss…you touch…you get really ready."
"All right. We're both ready…. Then?"
"Then I'd…sorry, I can't keep talking about this, okay? Otherwise we're going to have to go find a wall somewhere and I'll just show you. It doesn't have to be a shower wall…and you don't have to have all your clothes off."
His fingers had tightened around hers. She shut her eyes for a moment. For the first time in years she felt the hot, tight knot of desire in the pit of her stomach. When she opened her eyes she asked him, "Do I look like we're having an affair now?"
"You look like you were right there in that shower with me."
She smiled. "I think I was. I apologize, John. My curiosity took precedence over my judgment. You were right. This was not the time or the place to talk about the shower."
"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm still kind of enjoying the thought." He shifted slightly on his side of the booth and grinned. "Yeah, I'm still enjoying it. Now I'd like to ask you a personal question."
"I certainly owe you one. Ask your question."
"What's the story on you and Bill?"
"Why are you asking me that?"
"I had coffee with him today. He more or less warned me to behave myself with you. I think his exact words were, If you hurt her, I'll break your neck. He was smiling when he said it, but I got the point. It sounded like he has a personal interest in you that goes well beyond the old friends you both claim to be."
"Bill was the first man in my life. I was nineteen. He forced me to choose between my education and my family and him. When I hesitated, he walked out on me. He married shortly afterward. He broke my heart. I was very much in love with him."
"And now?"
"That was a long time ago."
"Weren't you the one who told me that time doesn't always heal some losses…that we just learn to cover them up?"
"Three years ago it could still have gone in another direction for Bill and me, but Bill chose his family. He's an honorable man. He's not an adulterer. I think he feels protective of me. We're close, but I'm not having an affair with him. I give you my word on that."
John nodded. "I just want to make sure our fictional affair isn't going to cause any problems in another area of your life…or mine either. Bill is my friend, too. You and I are probably going to have to see each other a few more times to make this look real. Then you can dump me and break my heart."
She smiled. "I doubt very seriously that I'll break your heart."
"I wouldn't bet the farm on that."
As they walked back to her apartment that night, John took her hand again and they strolled slowly, like they had all the time in the world. It was both the easiest and the most difficult thing she had done in a long time, to pretend they were lovers when she knew he was with another woman.
When they got outside the door of her building, she stopped.
"You're not going to ask me in, are you?"
"I can't. You're not married but you live with someone. If I ask you in, then this affair will cross the line between fiction and reality. We both know it. I would have a hard time dealing with that…having a real affair with a man who isn't free. It's not who I am."
"I understand and I respect you for it. Come on. Let's walk a little closer to the door. Your doorman is watching us. I want him to get a really good look."
"A good look at what?"
"We're having an affair, remember? Here, hold the bottle of peach brandy for a minute. Don't drop it. Make this look good. I can't make love to you like I want to, but I am going to kiss you goodnight."
He stepped up close to her and gently took her face in his hands. She saw the longing in his eyes for only a second as he tilted her face up to his and leaned down. His mouth on hers was warm in the cold night air and the kiss was as slow as he'd promised, as unhurried, as sensual, yet it wasn't a passionate kiss. The desire was there, but it was more of an undercurrent. Later she would remember the gentleness of the kiss and more than anything else, the yearning, the deep, aching yearning…his as well as her own.
The kiss took her to a time in her life when she felt none of the responsibility and burdens she now felt. It took her to the spring of her sixteenth year, to the embassy on Libran where her father was serving as ambassador, and to a garden that was bordered by blossoming cherry trees. She was sitting on a bench under the trees and was reading a book about a prince and his green-eyed princess who had just shared their first kiss. She remembered so clearly how she had shut her eyes and longed to experience that kiss…that first kiss of blossoming love.
A breeze moved soft and warm through the cherry trees. The white petals were falling gently around her, so very gently, and the air was full of their perfume. She was still three years away from having to make hard choices in her life, three years away from Bill Adama breaking her heart. There were no Cylons controlling their lives. War had not yet destroyed the beautiful garden and her future was still filled with a young girl's dreams, of handsome princes and happily ever after.
For a few long and unhurried moments of time, John Gallagher's kiss gave her back that carefree, dreamy springtime in her youth and let her experience that rare moment in time when love begins to blossom in a kiss. She was barely aware when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.
"Laura, open your eyes," John said softly.
She did and for a few seconds she thought he had somehow magically transported her through time to the garden on Libran, the garden of falling cherry blossoms. And then she realized that it had started to snow, gently drifting crystals of white.
He was smiling at her, a shy smile, a pleased smile, almost like a little boy.
"You know what it means when you kiss somebody and it starts to snow, don't you?"
Still under the spell of his kiss she shook her head.
"It means it'll happen again."
"Is that the truth or did you just make that up?"
He gently took the bottle of peach brandy from her hand. "We must have made that kiss look really convincing. Your doorman hasn't stopped staring at us."
"His name is Doug. He's been my night doorman since I moved here eight years ago and he's never seen me do anything like this before…ever. I'm sure he's wondering if it's really me."
John's voice took on the light teasing tone she knew so well. "You mean you and Chuck Winters didn't stand out here kissing like this on your first date?"
"I've never stood out here on the sidewalk and kissed anyone before."
"In that case I'll forgive you for making me wait until our fifth date. I hope from now on I'm the only one you stand out here kissing."
"I don't think you need to worry about anyone kissing me the way you just did."
"Laura, if my situation were to change, would I even stand a chance with you?"
"Oh, John, what do you think?" She was certain he read the answer in her eyes.
He smiled and gently touched her cheek where a snowflake had just landed. "Good enough. Goodnight, Laura."
"Goodnight, John."
Doug held the door open for her as she entered the building. She spoke politely to him as she always did. He touched his cap in a little salute as he always did. There was no hint in either of their actions that this night was any different from the hundreds of others when he had held the door open for her. She was quite certain, though, that if he were ever asked, he would remember the expression on her face as she looked back at John Gallagher walking down the sidewalk and saw him turn at the same time and look back at her.
The snow was falling harder now, soft and white, like the petals of cherry blossoms in that long-ago, dream-filled springtime of handsome princes and happily ever after.