Warning: this chapter contains brief but graphic allusions to violent scenes in earlier chapters.
CHAPTER 23
THE EDGE OF TOMORROW
"DRADIS contact," the Six at the navigation console called out. "Incoming baseship is hostile … and it's only 21 MU's out!"
"We have them," Natalie crowed triumphantly. "D'Anna, order the Raiders to take out their FTL's, and then get to work on the missile batteries."
"One ship," Hoshi uneasily observed. "What happened to the second one?"
Like a ravenous wolf pack, scores of Raiders inside the kill zone instantly swarmed the enemy baseship. Cavil's hybrid was quick to react to the threat; hundreds of fighters came pouring out of the beleaguered cylon vessel, each of them determined to protect its nest at all costs.
But they were already too late. Half a dozen anti-ship missiles shredded the FTL drive in a precise surgical strike that would have been inconceivable in the early days of the war, when the Raiders had been nothing more than the bluntest of blunt instruments. Working together under the direction of Jared Dalton and Galen Tyrol, Cylons and humans had steadily ramped up the capabilities of their primary strike force.
"The other ship has yet to jump," Bierns declared. "It's still at the previous coordinates."
"They must have smelled an ambush," Hoshi muttered. "Either that, or they're summoning reinforcements. And where is the resurrection ship?" Louis figured that it was tethered to the Mark IIB's, but their inability to track Cavil's new baseships cast a giant shadow over everything that they were trying to accomplish on the battlefield.
"D'Anna, do not let the Raiders overcommit," Natalie warned. She agreed with her XO; they couldn't afford to have the second ship show up, find her fighters completely out of position, and reverse the trap. Natalie's two baseships were both keeping a hundred Raiders in reserve to screen their FTL's, while the resurrection ship and the tanker lurked inside the asteroid field behind a protective screen of their own.
"I'm tracking four missiles inbound," the Sharon working the tactical console noted. "Conventional ordnance … nothing that the Raiders can't handle," she added almost casually.
"It's a distraction," Natalie said, thinking out loud. "Order the Raiders to continue concentrating their fire on the batteries, and for the time being ignore all other potential targets."
"They're maneuvering on their sublights," the Six shouted. "Separation is now 18 MU's."
"It looks like they're eager for a fight," Natalie said as a distinctly predatory grin washed across her beautiful features. "But I'm not in the mood to accommodate them. Six, pull us back; maintain a constant interval of at least 15 MU's. Mr. Hoshi, notify the other baseship to come about; let's see if we can catch them in a pincers."
"Do you want your sister to close? Rumor has it that she wants to go toe to toe with these bastards."
"Why not," Natalie agreed. "Her batteries are intact, so she's equipped for the close quarters fight that we wouldn't survive."
"Then I recommend that we come hard to starboard. Let's try and pull them deeper into the Raider net."
"Six?"
"I'm on it, Natalie."
The wounded baseship continued to retreat, but it was now turning in the direction of the asteroid belt. If the Cavils chose to pursue, their new course would allow Natalie to bring more and more of her Raiders into action while keeping the deadly spider's web that Kat and Leoben had laid out basically intact. If the second baseship did decide to join the fun, she wanted to be ready for it.
"They're turning … continuing to pursue." The Six at the navigation console was struggling to make sense of the data that was flowing through the stream. "Why would they do this? It doesn't make sense."
"Without their FTL's, they can't escape … but they would dearly love to take us with them." Natalie was studying the data as well. The enemy craft was hopelessly trapped. Missiles fired at close range were pounding the hull, knocking out its batteries in rapid succession. With each passing second, the giant vessel's offensive potential was being relentlessly stripped away. Outnumbered, and hard pressed even to defend their flanks, Cavil's Raiders were unable to launch an orchestrated sortie against either of the attacking baseships. The overlapping layers of Natalie's Raider defense gobbled up the few missiles sent their way, and the odd enemy fighter that attempted to break through was just as easily destroyed.
"Look," the blond haired Six shouted, "the rats are fleeing the sinking ship!"
Following her lead, the other Cylons in the control room isolated the datum that Reun had fed directly into the stream from her external sensors. They watched as four Heavy Raiders exited one of the dying ship's hangar decks and quickly jumped away.
Bierns was also in the stream, but he was still clumsy and unable to navigate the currents efficiently. He simply couldn't keep up with his aunts and uncles, but in turn they could not sense the hybrid's mood. He felt her turn away from the raging battle. He felt her strain to reach infinity.
But her FTL's are gone; she can't jump …
John felt the sense of exaltation that suffused her spirit, her deep, deep longing to be one with God.
"Pull the Raiders back! That ship's going to blow!"
Frantically, the Cylons sent the command through the stream, but Bierns was precious seconds ahead of them. Throwing caution to the winds, he reached out to Reun—and through her to the hundreds of Raiders in near space. He poured a single, vivid image into their animal brains—the image of a ship exploding, and consuming everything around it in a ball of fire.
The Raiders were already scrambling to get out of the way when the countdown reached zero, and three nuclear bombs detonated as one. Dozens of Raiders were caught inside the blast radius, but scores that would have otherwise been lost just managed to get clear.
A wave of superheated energy washed over the hull of Natalie's ship, propelling it even closer to the outer ring of the asteroid belt. But they were far enough away that the blast did minimal damage to the ship's already degraded sensor array, and the hybrid swiftly regained control.
"Well, that was easy," Natalie rather smugly remarked.
"It was too easy," Hoshi skeptically countered; "in fact, I'd say that it was way too easy!"
"I tend to agree with the Colonel," Bierns nodded. He looked around the control room at the assembled Cylons. "Does anybody have any idea what just happened here? Because I've gotta say that this … it just … feels weird."
"You suspect a trap." It was a statement, not a question. Leoben's eyes were darting back and forth between the two Colonials; he keenly appreciated their healthy sense of paranoia.
"Their timing was all wrong," Hoshi thoughtfully suggested. "That ship was in no immediate danger …"
"Once they started, they should have kept trying to close the distance," Bierns added. "Why didn't they try to pin us against the outer boundary of the asteroid belt? If the situation were reversed, isn't that what we would have tried to do?" The spook shook his head; he had played far too many convoluted games of his own to take so cheap a victory at face value. His professional instincts had kicked into high gear, and they were screaming at him that there was something very, very wrong about this entire setup.
The wireless buzzed, and D'Anna picked up the phone. She listened for a moment, and then hung up.
"That was my sister on the resurrection ship," she said with a slight frown. "Natalie, she wants you and our child to come over in person as quickly as possible."
John arched his eyebrows: an odd day had just turned odder still. "Did she happen to say what it's all about," he pressed.
"No … all she told me is that there has been a download that requires your personal attention."
"Mine?" A dozen butterflies suddenly decided to take wing inside the First Born's stomach. There were only three downloads that could be this urgent, and in these bizarre circumstances …
An ugly suspicion began to coalesce inside John's brain.
"I think that we should take Henry along," he told Natalie, "because something here just doesn't add up."
The Six blinked in surprise. The centurion was Melpomene's protector, and had not been separated from his charge in months. John had dispatched his own blood stained guardian with Kara, so she could understand why he would want to requisition Henry's services when heading into danger. But what was it about this brief and unenlightening message that had triggered the alarm bells in his head?
Natalie was on the verge of dismissing John's concerns as just another example of his often erratic behavior when she caught the grim look on Hoshi's face. It was obvious that he and John were thinking along the same lines—and Louis Hoshi never behaved erratically.
"Agreed, but first I want to recall our Raiders and jump the fleet. The longer we stay here, the more we invite a counterstrike." Natalie issued the necessary orders, but she could not help but wonder why her own danger sense had yet to kick in.
. . .
"Gods, Sharon, what the frak is this all about?" Starbuck leaned back against the ropes, and gratefully swished the cool water around the inside of her mouth. When she spat, what came out was mostly blood. "D'Anna's acting like she's got a serious grudge against me, and I have absolutely no idea why."
"You need to stay off the ropes," Athena advised, "and you need to rein in that legendary temper of yours and stop throwing rainmakers."
"Rainmakers," Starbuck blankly repeated; "do you mean haymakers?"
"Whatever," Athena shrugged. "Look Kara, if you would just keep your cool, you'd have half a chance to win this bout. Haven't you been paying any attention? Three isn't bringing the fight to you; she's content to sit back and take advantage of the openings that you're creating for her. Every time you swing and miss, she either counterpunches or kicks you where it hurts. So, quit playing her game. Be patient. Force her to come to you."
"Patience has never been my strong suit," Starbuck snarled. "In the cockpit, you don't have time to think."
"Don't confuse the Adriatic with a Viper, Kara. Maybe what D'Anna wants you to understand is that leaders can't afford to operate on raw instinct. You have to stop and think because you're responsible for the lives of others, not just your own."
"So, she's teaching me a lesson? She wants me to stop stirring the pot? Give Anders a pass?"
"Maybe … or maybe she just wants you to grow up."
"Yeah, the way she's looking at me … I get the feeling that she would love to put me over her knee … give me a good, old fashioned spanking."
"That comes later," Athena grinned; "when we're back in our quarters."
"Gotta love a machine with a fetish," Kara impishly replied. The bell rang, and she jumped up from her stool and stormed into the middle of the ring.
"Stay off the ropes," Athena yelled. She looked over at D'Anna, who seemed to be in no hurry to leave her corner. The Three winked at Sharon before getting up and moving slowly out into the ring. She stopped just out of Starbuck's reach. The Three kept her hands hanging loosely at her side, openly inviting the temperamental pilot to take a swing at her.
"Don't play her game," Athena yelled again by way of encouragement.
"Is that what we've been doing, Aunt Three … playing your game?" Starbuck hung back, just out of D'Anna's reach. "Well, let's see if you can take the initiative." She gestured with both hands, inviting her to attack.
Unperturbed, D'Anna drifted off to the right before suddenly pivoting and launching another kick with her right leg. She was aiming for Starbuck's left hip, but this time her niece anticipated the strike and nimbly danced away.
The Three was still slightly off balance when Starbuck closed and delivered a short left hook to her right kidney. The punch scored cleanly, but almost casually, D'Anna responded by backhanding Kara across the right cheek, staggering the hybrid and driving her back.
Gods, but she's strong! Too bad this ain't tag team; I'd love to see Sharon take a crack at her … or maybe my pet centurion.
Sensing weakness, D'Anna pressed the attack; ignoring two left jabs that clipped her high on the right cheek, she shoved Starbuck hard into the ropes, and when she bounced off caught her in a hammerlock. She bent Kara almost double, swatted her hard on the behind, and finished up with a barrel roll that left the infuriated blond flat on her stomach, with the Three perched on her spine. D'Anna leaned forward, and used her superior weight and strength to pin Kara's elbows to the canvas.
"Had enough," she whispered into Starbuck's ear, "or do you want me to cut off your air supply?" She suddenly prized Kara's neck up with a stiff right arm, while driving her left elbow hard into the top of her spine. "All it takes is just a little more pressure," she warned, "and you'll be off to beddy-bye."
"Frak," Starbuck swore; she slapped the canvas to vent her frustration, but there was no way she was getting out of this one. "All right," she coughed; "all right! I quit! Are you satisfied?"
"Child, how many times must you hear it? You have no self-discipline. You're impulsive, and that makes you dangerous. You need to learn self-control if you are to continue commanding this expedition. If you insist on disappointing me, then we will do this again, and I promise you that the next time your ego will be badly bruised. Isn't that right, Athena?"
Sharon grinned knowingly, thinking back to the way this particular Three had once whipped a truculent Danny Novacek into shape. "You'd better do what she says, Kara. Otherwise, she'll send you to bed without your supper."
"Right … I get it," Starbuck sourly replied. "I've heard this lecture before, from Sonja … from Miriam and Rachel. You all want me to take it down a notch … learn to play nice with others …"
"We want you to lead, Kara." Athena decided to give it to her straight. "Put the mission first, and stop treating this ship like it's your own personal playground. Leave that finely tuned sense of outrage of yours here in the ring, where it belongs."
"Right … I get it," Starbuck repeated. She didn't know what else to say.
. . .
Natalie and John stepped out of the Heavy Raider, with Henry but a few steps back, to find one of the nursing Sixes waiting to receive them. She was wearing a long gold smock that somehow drew attention to the intense blue of her eyes—eyes that were now riveted on the First Born. She had never met him, and could not contain her curiosity. Cylon nurses were notoriously timid, but in the case of the Sixes this submissive streak suggested a vulnerability that magnified the model's erotic appeal tenfold. Bierns could feel his body responding to the Six's presence, in a way that it no longer did when Natalie was around. He pitied the first human male in whom she showed interest: those eyes would reduce the guy to mush.
"I am Lamia," she said to Bierns in a husky voice. She did not even glance at Natalie. "Please, come this way." She turned, and led them deeper into the resurrection ship.
The vessel was huge, and it took several minutes to reach the right chamber. A blond Six, who seemed identical to Shelly Adama in every way, was perched on the side of a resurrection vat. She was wearing the usual white bathrobe, and was busily combing goo out of her hair. She looked up when they approached, her eyes first lingering on the centurion, and then moving on to John Bierns. He saw the flash of recognition.
The Six stood up, and came over to stand before him. Her eyes roamed all over his body, committing everything to memory. Finally, she reached out gingerly to stroke his cheek. John flinched, a small but unmistakable reaction; he caught the note of puzzlement that washed across the Six's delicate features. His response was not what she had expected.
"You must be John," she softly observed, "the abomination who so frustrates our elder brothers."
"Yes," he quietly agreed. His tone was very subdued because he didn't quite know what to make of the apparition standing before him. Was she friend or foe?
"It's been a long time," he added, "and I can't begin to tell you how good it is to see you again."
Now it was the Six's turn to look confused.
"It's difficult to explain," John elaborated. "You couldn't see me, but I was in the room when Kara was born."
"How," the Six asked, her sense of confusion growing by the second.
"It's a story for another day." He swept her into his arms, giving her the opening. If she had been programmed to kill him, this would be the moment she would strike. He could think of no other explanation for her all too convenient download, although sacrificing a baseship in order to position her for an assassination attempt seemed extravagant even for the Cavils.
The Six hugged John in return, and ran her fingers up and down his back. Since she was unarmed, he reckoned that she would try to break his neck. It was the obvious ploy, and Henry was zeroed in on her hands. If they paused in the wrong spot, he would react—but would he be fast enough?
The Six stepped back, and looked curiously at Natalie.
Bierns took the hint. "Natalie," he said, "this is Aspasia, the first Six in the second generation. Aspasia, this is Natalie, one of the earliest copies from the third generation, and the leader of our coalition force."
The two Sixes exchanged brief greetings, and then Aspasia turned back to John Bierns.
"I want to see Kara. Where is my daughter?"
. . .
Lee Adama looked down at the ground beneath his feet. He had to make sure that it was still there, because at the moment he would have sworn that he was walking on air. He felt so light headed that he was positive the slightest breeze would suffice to blow him away.
Head down, clutching the tiny bundle that was his newborn daughter to his chest, Lee slowly made his way along Main Street with Creusa hugging his side. They were taking the baby home, but it was hard going because they were being stopped every few meters by someone wanting to offer their congratulations. Typically, the men paused to wish him good luck, with not a few muttering under their breath that he was going to need it, while the women insisted on oohing and ahing over the new baby. Lee didn't blame them one little bit. Sure, he was prejudiced on the subject, but with her thatch of blond hair and those big, big, blue eyes … well, Cyrene was simply stunning. He could tell already that she was going to grow up to be the most beautiful woman in the world.
Creusa was beaming, overflowing with happiness and pride. God had singled her out to be the first Six to give birth to the next generation of His children. She had defined the path that the other copies of her model must follow if His plan was to be fulfilled.
Lee felt crushed. The new life that he was cradling in his arms was so totally helpless, so utterly dependent upon him for love and protection and … well, for everything, really. The sense of responsibility was overwhelming. It was as if the gods had tasked him to shoulder the weight of the world.
"Dad, I feel so inadequate. Does it ever get any easier?"
Bill Adama laughed, and clapped his son cheerfully on the shoulder. He knew exactly how Lee felt because once, long ago, he had felt exactly the same way.
"Yeah, it gets easier," he said, "but it also gets harder. There'll be days when you feel like you're on top of the world, and then there'll be days when you're convinced that you can't do a damned thing right. Welcome to parenthood."
"Speaking of which, in just a few weeks it will be your turn," Creusa gleefully pointed out. "Then, both Adamas will look dazed and confused."
"I don't do dazed and confused," Bill shot back. "And let's keep in mind that I've done this twice before."
"Boys don't count, husband of mine. Xena says that if you drop them, they won't break. They're indestructible, and all but raise themselves." Shelly was waddling along at Bill's side; she was thankful that the others had to go slow because that was the only way she could keep up. "But girls are delicate … have to be handled with care."
"Which is exactly what I'm going to do," Bill announced. Lee could hear the undercurrent of quiet good humor in his voice. "I'm going to post a bulletin banishing the word 'no' from Galactica's decks. My master plan is to spoil my daughter, and my granddaughter, rotten. That's one of the privileges of parenting at my age … everyone will expect, even demand, that I be indulgent."
"Thank the gods that Polyxena will be there to keep an eye on you, and hopefully limit the damage." Lee couldn't resist needling his father, but he also suspected that the Admiral would always have a hard time saying 'no' to his daughter. It wasn't simply a question of age. It was also a matter of guilt.
"Where's Shevon," Bill asked, neatly twisting the needle and driving it home.
"She's gone ahead," Creusa replied. "She wants to get Paya settled, and double check to make sure that everything in the apartment is ready for Cyrene."
Bill scrutinized his son. It was an open secret that Apollo had once been Shevon's client, but what no one could figure out was how she fit into his current household. Naturally, there were rumors, but the three principals had been remarkably close-mouthed about what went on inside the Adama apartment.
"I hear that she's a wonderful mother," he said diplomatically. "You both can learn a lot from the way that she interacts with her daughter. You're lucky to have such an experienced nanny."
Creusa looked at Lee, and then the Admiral, and started to giggle. Cylons weren't supposed to be so undignified, but she just couldn't help it.
"Father, why don't you just ask?"
"Ask what," Bill countered. He casually threw another nut into his mouth. John Bierns wasn't the only person in the fleet with a weakness for macadamias.
"Whether Lee is sleeping with Shevon, or whether the three of us are sleeping together. What," she added with wide-eyed innocence, "you don't think that the rumors get back to us?"
"It's really none of my business," Adama tartly responded.
"That's right, but the answer is 'no'." The expression on Apollo's face was wooden. "I can't afford Shevon's standard rate, and I'm too proud to ask for a discount."
The Admiral bit down so hard on the nut that he almost broke a tooth.
. . .
"Wait up, Six." Eric Lackey was doubled over, gripping his knees. He was finding it hard to catch his breath. "I don't … have … your stamina … need to take a break."
"Eric, we have to keep moving. We have to reach higher ground before nightfall." There was just a trace of impatience in the blond Cylon's voice.
"I know; I just need five minutes. I can't get my footing, Six. All this loose rock underfoot … and I've never been on a slope this steep. Are you sure this is the only escape route?"
"Yes." The Six surveyed their surroundings. They were in a rock strewn gorge that led high into the mountains. When they had set off, having first cached most of their belongings behind a jumble of boulders, the defile had been bathed in sunlight. But that had been hours earlier, and much of the gorge was now shrouded in deep shadows. She calculated that they needed to climb another three hundred meters before they would reach level ground, and they needed to do it before darkness set in. The ground was far too treacherous to risk travelling across at night.
"We can't double back to the city by following the river because we don't know how many patrols Caprica Six has sent out to hunt for us. The high ground gives us our best chance to elude pursuit. The loose shale is slowing us down, but it will immobilize the centurions. They will not be able to get traction on this ground." Six resumed studying the terrain immediately ahead of them. In the fading light, the path leading up was no longer obvious.
"You're sure that she's the author of our misery?"
Six shrugged: she had no doubts whatsoever.
"But why? I mean … this really doesn't make a whole lot of sense."
"She was the first Cylon to turn actively against the plan. Since she's never heard me denounce it, she probably thinks that I'm still unrepentant, and therefore dangerous. I just hope that she's too busy to think it through."
"What do you mean?"
"Our thought processes aren't like yours, Eric. We tend to see things in black and white, not gray. Therefore, from Caprica's point of view, if I'm not with her, I must still be loyal to the Cavils. She knows that I can pilot a Heavy Raider. Logic should lead her to the conclusion that I'm going to try and steal a ship, find the Ones, and lead them back here. No matter how clever we are, it is possible that we may end up walking into a trap."
"Oh, frak … why can't the universe just leave us alone?"
"Even if we do manage to escape, that's only the beginning. We have to find a habitable world before we run out of food, fuel … air. But we can't populate it solely with our own children—it takes genetic diversity to sustain a species. In the end, we'll have to come back here and bargain—offer them a world in return for amnesty."
"Frak … frak … frak!"
"Frakking is always good," Six agreed. "Come on, let's get off this mountain, settle in for the night, and make love. But do not, under any circumstances, bring up the subject of food!"
. . .
"This is good," Aspasia said with a contented sigh. She was watching Pyrrha. The little girl was sitting on Natalie's lap, spooning her supper while the Six gently ran her fingers through her hair. "This feels like family. After all this time, I still do not understand why the Ones are so intent upon crushing our parents' dreams."
"We're machines, and we should be the best machines the universe has ever seen," the blond haired Six seated next to Melpomene Meacham snorted. "What a crock!"
"Cavil scorns flesh and blood," Bierns elaborated. "He idealizes the centurion form, but I doubt whether he has ever asked them for their opinion about anything. The telencephalic inhibitors speak volumes in and of themselves."
"Have you seen my Aunt Six," Melpomene suddenly blurted out. She was staring steadily at Aspasia. Melpomene had come to terms with her father's death, but she refused to accept the loss of the Six who had all but become her stepmother. Downloading denied the child the possibility of closure.
"No," Aspasia replied with genuine regret. "There were only two Sixes on the basestar … Mara, and the infected one."
"The infected one," Racetrack repeated. She was seated to Natalie's immediate right. The two of them no longer made any effort to conceal their relationship. "That's a new one on me. What does it mean?"
"She shares all of Cavil's flaws. She took the lead in torturing us." The Six sadly shook her head. "The Ones have somehow infected her with their own sense of cruelty and sadism."
Aspasia stared unashamedly at Sharon Bierns. The Eight's delivery date was now only ten to eleven weeks away, and the child that was so visibly growing inside of her awed the Six.
"The Ones don't know about you, Eight, and we need to keep it that way. The Cavils unboxed D'Anna and Mara for just one reason: they think that they can use them to bludgeon John into submission. If they knew that you were with child, our sisters would lose much of their value. They might not survive the revelation."
"What puzzles me," Sharon answered, "is that you are here to share these insights with us." She was fully aware of her husband's doubts, and his suspicions. "Why didn't the Ones take you with them?"
"They had imprisoned me in an empty storeroom near the bottom of the core. It was a long way to the control room. They wanted to take turns raping me, and none of them wanted to be disturbed while they were having their fun."
Aspasia laughed harshly. "They all liked to brag about how weak you are … how gullible and easily distracted. They hold you in such contempt that they have already culled the Twos and Threes. They have destroyed all of the husks within their reach—they even went back to the Colony to corrupt the genetic formula. They are maturing a new generation of Eights, a dumbed down generation with heightened sex drives, who will give them lots of hybrids to mold and sculpt once they have captured humans in sufficient quantity to impregnate them. The Hub has been reduced to a house of horrors."
"We should continue this conversation after the children have gone to bed," Natalie interrupted. Pyrrha was too small to understand what the grown-ups were talking about, but Melpomene …
"No," the little girl shouted. "Henry and I are going to save Aunt Six! I am not going to bed! Uncle John," she wailed, "please!"
She's seven now, he sadly thought, her last birthday celebrated on a ship in the midst of war. She's only one year younger than I was when I was forced to let go of my childhood. But she's stronger than I was at her age … stronger, and much more determined …
"Go on," Bierns nodded, overriding Natalie's objections.
"Cavil is afraid of you, John … of you and Kara both. He anticipated that you would become a superior form of hybrid—that was the whole point of the experiment. But your ability to interact with your sisters took him completely by surprise. He doesn't know what went wrong, but he's given up all hope of controlling you. He's not even sure that you're sane. So, he has accelerated the development of the next generation of basestars in order to bypass and neutralize you. The Ones are relying upon the Eights to give them more hybrids; they will be pitted against one another in a long, drawn-out contest designed to insure that only the fittest survive. The best will be copied and slaved to still more advanced basestars. The nightmare promises to go on without end."
"I'm surprised that the Cavils shared their plans with you so readily," Racetrack commented.
John looked at her in mild surprise. Such skepticism, however veiled, made it clear that Margaret shared his doubts about where this was all coming from. Was the war making them all cynical, or leading them into the realm of paranoia?
"You can thank John's mother," Aspasia explained. "The First Three is as smart as she is tough. She knows how to make the Ones lose their temper. She paid for a lot of this information with beatings, electrical shock treatments …"
"And with rape and sodomy," she added softly. Aspasia kept her eyes fixed on Melpomene. She couldn't bear to look in John's direction.
"This is what your mother was trying to tell you." Sharon was tightly gripping her husband's hand. "This is the meaning of your visions. Don't you see? The Ones have always liked to gloat, and from the beginning D'Anna has known how to push their buttons. They must have told her how they were planning to pressure the hybrids … force them to evolve. I doubt if you and Kara were ever anything more to them than links in a chain."
"This explains a lot," Racetrack agreed. "I never understood why the Cavils would agree to the breeding experiments on Caprica when their goal was so obviously to exterminate us. Now, it makes sense."
"So, why didn't they extract the embryos from Ruth Gabriel and Esther Cohen and genetically modify them," Bierns objected. "They had both the opportunity and the means."
"They must have decided that this is where it all went wrong." Racetrack was suddenly very sure of her footing. "They're changing the protocols in order to avoid producing more … abominations. Sorry!"
"No offense taken, Margaret;" John had finally found something to grin about. "Believe me … I've been called a lot worse!"
"So, where does this leave us?" If they were shifting their tactical objectives, Natalie wanted to know about it sooner rather than later.
"Why don't we see if we can track down the Hub and reunite Melpomene with her aunt?" John's voice was almost playful, but Aspasia was the only adult in the room to be fooled. The others knew the First Born far too well.
We'll unbox as many as we can, and download new personalities into the available husks. And then, whether we're being played or not, we blow that frakking ship to bits and put a permanent end to this nonsense!
. . .
"Guatrau, we've got trouble."
Dino Panattes was in the Arethusa's security center. Its bank of cameras monitored every square inch of the chancery's floor, and everywhere he looked the Sons of Ares were in evidence.
"Yeah," he said in response to the mumbled voice on the other end of the line, "Carlotti's decided to grace us with his presence, and he's brought about twenty of his goons with him. The regulars don't like the vibes; they're starting to bail."
"Get down there and see what he wants," the Six with no name instructed. "If they're just looking for a good time, tell them that drinks are on me, but otherwise ignore them."
"And if they start to make trouble?"
"Discourage them … politely. I'm sending someone to collect Anthia and a few of my more ill-tempered sisters. Anthia and Enzo have a lot to talk about. Who knows, maybe he'll volunteer to teach her how to dance. I'm sure that Anthia would like to get up close and personal with that bastard."
"How far are we prepared to let this go?"
"If Anthia wants to cut his heart out … slip her a knife, but beyond that, keep your distance. Caprica Six will not appreciate it if we cause her a lot of unnecessary paperwork."
Dino grinned in spite of himself. The Ditchdigger had seen his fair share of mob bosses come and go over the years, but the Six was in a class by herself. She was devious and unsentimental, but her greatest gift was her ability to measure the value of favors given and received. She worked hard to make sure that everyone who mattered was in her debt, but she had also been exceedingly careful to indenture herself to the powers that be. If the President needed an unorthodox solution to a pressing problem, he knew exactly where to turn. Six had enjoyed her quiet time with the last remnants of the Sagittaron Brotherhood, and she freely acknowledged that she owed Gaius Baltar. As long as the debt remained unpaid, Gaius was unlikely to move against her operation.
Dino hung up the phone, and headed for the chancery's main gaming room.
. . .
"All right, Sam. Where is it?"
"Kara, I don't know." Sam still found it difficult to speak. Howard Kim had set his broken nose and packed it with gauze; it was hard to breathe and speak out of his mouth at one and the same time.
"Melania?"
"The coordinates are correct, Kara; it should be here."
"Did you compensate for galactic drift?"
"Yes … but we're talking meters here. The difference wouldn't mean much to our instrument package."
"Son of a bitch," Kara swore. "All right … all right; maybe a meteorite bagged it. Ponytail, initiate a full DRADIS sweep. Check for alloys … something, anything … that's not natural. Fine tune the scan as much as you possibly can."
"I'm on it.
Deitra recalibrated the DRADIS, and recalibrated it yet again. She tightened the sweep, and then expanded it. Finally, she threw her hands into the air in a gesture of resignation.
"Captain, there's nothing there. There are no alloys within five thousand kilometers of our current position—and that's well beyond the calculated drift."
"All right, people, I'm open to suggestions. Forty-five years ago, there was a marker buoy at this precise location, something left behind by the thirteenth cylon tribe thousands of years ago to point the way forward and point the way back. And now it's gone. What the frak happened?"
The Cylons and the humans in the Adriatic's control room looked uneasily at one another. The answer was altogether too obvious. It was D'Anna who finally spoke.
"Child, barring a natural disaster … someone got here before us."
"And they destroyed the beacon … what … to throw us off the scent?"
"Perhaps … but that is only one possibility."
"Cylons? Gods, D'Anna, are you suggesting that the Cavils are ahead of us?"
"It's the most likely answer, but again … there is at least one other possibility."
"What," Kara yelled impatiently. "Come on, D'Anna, don't keep us in suspense … what?"
"That someone else got here ahead of both of us."
. . .
"Dry heaves." Eric shook his head in frustration. "Sweetheart, I know that you don't want to think about food, much less eat, but if you can get something down it will at least give your stomach something to do."
Eric and Six had reached a broad ledge high up in the mountains shortly after sunset, and they had taken shelter for the night inside a shallow cave that was little more than a deeply eroded overhang in the cliff face. Since they couldn't risk a fire, supper consisted of smoked fish and dried strips of meat that tasted vaguely like venison. The game was salty, but not unpleasantly so, and the Sagittaron was hungry enough to enjoy every bite.
"You really need to try," he repeated. "After all, from now on you're going to be eating for two."
In response, Six settled more deeply in Eric's arms, and he pulled the blankets more tightly around them. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply, glorying in the scent of the woman he loved. Even after a hard day of climbing, she still smelled of roses; and as he raised her head to kiss the Cylon full on the lips, he knew that she would taste of strawberries.
"I love you," each said to the other, the words mingling in the chilly evening air. They made love, slow at first but then with increasing passion, their cries and their pledges echoing throughout the cavern. Meanwhile, two thousand feet below and several kilometers to the west, a lone squad of centurions prowled the night, their search for the fugitives continuing without pause.
. . .
"Welcome to the Arethusa, Mr. Carlotti. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Dino's manner was polite, but there was no warmth in his voice, and his eyes flicked around the room, taking the measure of the young toughs who had accompanied their boss to the chancery. Dino had also seen plenty of gangster wannabes in his day—the streets of little Tauron had been full of them. Not all that many had made it to their twenty-fifth birthday, and he didn't hold out much hope for the Sons of Ares.
"We're here to celebrate our good fortune," Enzo replied. "The sudden demise of the Sagittaron Brotherhood has brought a whole bunch of new and very profitable business opportunities our way. Our real estate empire is quite literally exploding. We can't keep track of the cubits, they're coming in so fast."
"Then you need a better bookkeeper," Dino tartly countered. "But if you came here to lose cubits, we'll be happy to oblige you. Oh, and the Guatrau says that drinks are on the house … after you check your guns. It's a house rule: no weapons are allowed on the premises."
"Now, what makes you think that any of us are carrying?"
"I can see the bulges—and my tall, metal friends can see a good deal more." Dino nodded in the direction of the nearest centurion, who was standing unobtrusively in an alcove off to the left. Six had somehow managed to lay her hands on a full squadron, an act of piracy that was unlikely to have gone unnoticed either at police headquarters or on Colonial One.
"Would you like them to assist you?" Dino was staring steadily at Enzo Carlotti; he was hoping against hope that the fool would force the issue right here and now.
"The bigger gun always prevails, doesn't it, Panattes?" Enzo's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Boys, oblige the man," he said while continuing to stare hard at the enforcer. "Stack the hardware on the counter, find yourself a game that you like, and have some fun. The ambrosia's on the house!"
"Hey, Panattes," the gangster added as Dino turned to walk away, "tell the Six that we really enjoyed the videotape. Watching her question the Sagittarons … let's just say that it was an educational experience … gave us a whole lot of new ideas when it comes to policing our territory. I particularly liked that bit with the blowtorch; it was real persuasive."
"I'd be happy to give you a personal demonstration," Anthia called out. She never broke stride as she crossed the chancery floor to confront Carlotti. Behind her, more Sixes were fanning out, each of them prepared to give one of the Sons of Ares her full attention.
"Well, well, well … hey, boys, look what the cat dragged in!" Enzo let his eyes wander all over the red-headed Cylon's lithe body while insolently licking his lips. "Still enjoying your evening walks," he mocked.
"Actually, I've taken up dancing, and I'm looking for a new partner." Hands on hips, Anthia sized up her enemy the way a butcher might mentally weigh a slab of beef. "I'd love to get you all to myself, Enzo. They have private rooms here, and they can crank the music up really loud. Why don't we go check one of them out? You can even bring your blowtorch. I won't mind."
"I'll pass, Six … for now. Mind you, I am looking forward to spending some quality time with you, but I'll choose the where and the when. Some of the guys from the Pegasus," he leered, "tell me that Sixes can sing real good … can really hit the old high notes … with the proper incentive. Rumor has it that Gina Inviere squealed like a stuck pig when Thorne rammed it up her ass. That must have been a sight to see!"
"I'll tell ya what was a sight to see," Dino softly interrupted; "one of those clowns from Pegasus sitting on the can with his dick shoved down his throat. We never did find out whether it was a Six or an Eight who whacked him … but then, I suspect that local law enforcement didn't go all out on that one. Nobody gets real excited when a low-life rapist encounters justice in the form of a straight razor."
"You know what, Panattes? You're right. Caprica or New Caprica … it makes no difference. The law doesn't give a damn when a few whores get cut, or one of us goes out a top story window. Guys like us … we have to solve our own problems. So, tell Six that I'm willing to deal. There's no reason for any of us to be greedy. We'll stay out of gambling, and you stay out of drugs. The black market's up for grabs, and may the best man win. You keep your current crop of hookers, while we recruit a stable of our own. You don't make trouble for us, and we don't make trouble for you."
"I'll pass the message, but take my advice and stay well clear of the sex trade. The Guatrau doesn't want you or anybody else to undercut the market, especially with so many Sixes and Eights out there trawling for humans of their own. There's just not enough business to go around."
"Sorry, man, but I know plenty of girls who need the work. They can't eat if they don't put out, so they're coming to us for help. You know how it is. A girl, she's willing to pay us a commission to make sure she's got no competition on her piece of turf. Plus, she needs a little muscle to make sure that the customers don't get out of line. We provide the service, and we take a little off the top to make it worth our while. Everybody wins."
"Not anymore," Anthia warned. "Enzo, just what part of 'stay well clear' didn't you get? If there truly are females out there going hungry, send them to me. The Sixes will shelter them, and there are many Twos who would be pleased to care for them. But keep your sluts off the streets. We need to increase our numbers, and that means marriage, not sex in the dark and filthy alleyways where animals like you always seem to flourish."
"My, but we're touchy today," Carlotti sighed. "Well, here's a news flash, Six. Screw Gaius Baltar and his brave new world. My coming here today … this is just a courtesy call. Most of the guys in this settlement would rather frak a snake than touch a skin job, and that goes double for our women. There's a big demand out there, and we're going to satisfy it. So, if you want a piece of the action, go for it; find out for yourself how many losers are desperate enough to settle for a toaster. But stay out of my face."
Without another word, Enzo wandered off to check out the action at one of the tables. Dino draped his arm around Anthia's waist, and patted her possessively on the hip. "Don't let him get to you, Six," he whispered encouragingly; "Carlotti's got shit for brains."
"I know," she answered with a wan smile. "It's just that, at times, progress seems so slow. Our faith has allowed us to identify easily with the Gemenese, but some of the other Colonies … Leonis, Scorpia, Virgon … D'Anna's sermons have won us converts and friends, but her success may well be what is alienating those who remain loyal to the old gods."
"Hey, come on, Delphi wasn't built in a day! You just have to be patient." Dino squeezed Anthia's waist a bit more tightly. The Six melted up against him, leaving the gangster to wonder whether she was finally ready to acquiesce to his desires.
. . .
"You're doing better," Eric observed approvingly. "It's good to see."
Six was chewing on a piece of jerky, savoring the juices that were swirling through her mouth. After four days without food, she was starving. But finally she could face food without vomiting, and this high up in the mountains, the sun penetrated the mists that seemed forever to shroud the valley floor. It was a glorious morning, cool and bright. The Cylon was in fine spirits.
"I think we can take our time today. At this altitude, I'm more concerned with being seen from the air than anything else." Six surveyed the panoramic vista that was spread out all around them, and then focused on the piece of meat in her hand. In large things and in small, she sensed the presence of God.
"Eric, do you ever think about the miracle that is our lives?"
"All the time," the young Sagittaron answered. "I ask myself: how could two such different paths as ours have come together … joined to become one? It's hard not to see the hand of God or the gods shaping our lives."
"All our lives," Six agreed, "and across eons of time." She stared pensively at the piece of jerky in her hand. "The scriptures tell us that Kobol is the home world of us all, the birthplace of human and Cylon alike. The protein chains that define us at the most basic level of biochemistry bind us to Kobol. Its biosphere is as unique as the whorls of your fingerprints, and yet …"
"Go on," Eric encouraged. He loved the way Six's brow furrowed when she was concentrating on a complex problem. She had such expressive features.
"And yet the twelve tribes found twelve worlds waiting to receive them, and the cylon tribe found a thirteenth world thousands of light years away to call its own. How was that possible? For that matter, how can the flora and fauna of this world sustain us? You did not have to build an Ark to carry plants and animals with you to the Colonies, and we have barely begun to reshape the surface of New Caprica. This meat … it should pass through us like sawdust or cardboard … be inert. It's only in those bad movies that you humans so love that people can land on an alien planet and casually ingest the food and water. In real life, basic science should have condemned all of us to starve to death."
"I guess I never really thought about it," Eric admitted. "What's your conclusion?"
"The One True God loves His children, and His children's children. He has seeded the universe with worlds that will nurture and protect us. God wants us to succeed; above all, He wants us to love one another, and to be fruitful and multiply."
"God's will be done," Eric cheekily remarked.
"Eric, I'm serious."
"I know … I know. I'm sorry, Six; you know how uncomfortable I get around blind leaps of faith. The gods move mountains in one breath, and instruct us to heal our ills with Burdock root in the next. Religion didn't do us Sagittarons any favors."
Eric leaned over to kiss his beloved, and ran his fingers lightly up and down one of her arms. "Besides," he continued, "your explanation is a lot better than mine. I'm such a heretic that, not all that long ago, back home they would have burned me at the stake."
Six frowned in puzzlement; she couldn't imagine heresy on such a scale. "You must be mistaken," she said nervously. "No one's beliefs are that radical."
"What if I told you that Kobol, the Colonies, the cylon home world, New Caprica … what if I told you that they were all just links in a chain? Perhaps life as we know it began far away from our worlds, with tribes of humans, who may have been old when Kobol was young. Who knows, Six … who really knows?"
Eric Lackey pointed vaguely up at the sky. "Why fall back on some divinity for answers? Why can't it be us? Who's to say that we're alone? For all we know, there may yet be brothers of man who fight to survive … somewhere beyond the heavens."
. . .
Boomer's hand drifted idly through the water, and she studied the wake that she was leaving behind. Somehow, it seemed perfectly to symbolize her existence. She had left her mark on the lives of others, but it was not indelible. Like the wake that was already breaking up in her rear, she was destined to fade, first from their thoughts and eventually from their memories.
And that was ironic because she had found the answers to so many of the questions that haunted the lives of cylon and human alike. She had discovered the home world. In the great tombs, she had read the texts that described the departure of the gods. At the dawn of recorded time, they had left this world, their destiny to become the Lords of Kobol, and perhaps of countless other planets as well. The twelve worlds in the Cyrannus system that were home to the Colonies were no accident of nature. Science precluded the possibility. Like New Caprica, they had been seeded in preparation for the arrival of man and his machines. The One True God had commanded His children to be fruitful and multiply, but the scale of His plans for the universe had, until now, been beyond the reach of mortal imagination.
Boomer thought it possible, even likely, that she now had a keener insight into the workings of providence than any other sentient being in the galaxy. Certainly, her understanding reached far beyond the mysticism of the Twos, the deep faith of the Threes, or the prophetic grasp of the human priests and oracles.
And she had no way to share the knowledge. The destruction of Cavil's baseship had hurled her far beyond the edge of tomorrow, consigned her to an exile thousands of light years distant from New Caprica. A Raptor, even fully fueled, could not span the gap that separated her from her people. She could only wait, and hope that one day they would find her.
And while she waited, she would learn.
The voyage upstream, into the teeth of the current, was slow, but it was anything but tedious. Yuya and Twosret took advantage of the long hours quietly to educate her. Yuya had belabored the fact that he was not native to this land, nor did he share its beliefs. His temple appointments were political sinecures, and likewise those of his wife. At home they had to keep up appearances in order to maintain peace in a large household rich with many tongues and many gods, but in private …
In private, they worshipped the One True God.
This stunning revelation explained why Thuyu initially had been so hostile. Another pair of eyes was another potential source of trouble in a world governed by ambitious priests. A largely invisible conflict was already underway, and Thuyu was determined to keep her family beyond the fray.
For generations, Yuya had explained, tens of thousands of soldiers had annually left the Two Lands, marching abroad to wreck vengeance upon their enemies and lay claim to an empire in the process. Hundreds of thousands of captives had been brought home and reduced to bondage, and they had all brought their gods with them. The pantheon of divinities had exploded, but as the gods proliferated, the distinctions that separated one from another had begun to blur in the minds of their followers. Already, mergers had occurred, which strengthened the power and wealth of some cults at the expense of others. The profits of empire, always unequally shared, were being concentrated in fewer and fewer hands, and the Two Lands were correspondingly rife with tension.
Boomer could not help but think of the annual, knock-out Pyramid competition back on Picon. Everyone, amateur and professional alike, was eligible to compete, but only one club was destined to raise the cup. In this land, if Yuya was right, eventually only one god would be left standing.
Yuya's people were just one of the hundreds to be imported as slaves. But united by their belief in the God of their forefathers, they had retained their ethnic and cultural identity even as they worked hard to advance themselves to positions of power. Yuya and Thuyu, and many others like them, were paving the way for the ascendancy of the One True God. In this land He would be graced with a different name, but this mattered not at all. God had issued commandments, and their adoption was the ultimate goal. They would govern the lives of Twosret's children, and of all the generations yet to come.
Boomer knew the commandments by heart—how could she not when so many of them were woven into the very fabric of her being? They were intrinsic to beliefs shared by centurions and the monotheists of Gemenon. They had governed the lives of the faithful on Kobol, and of the cylon tribe that had roamed among the stars in search of a home to call its own. Two species and many peoples, but a singular faith that united far flung worlds and ranged across millennia of time.
Boomer had become Tiy, and in the process she had begun to sense her role in God's plan. She would join in the work of spreading His word on this world as her brothers and sisters were daily spreading it on New Caprica. For now, she would be content to labor in the shadows, but there would come a time when she would preach God's message in the full light of day.
Habiru … the word still sounded alien to her ears, but she embraced it nonetheless.
I have become one with the Habiru.
. . .
"Kara, this is pointless." Anders couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. "How many times do I have to tell you? These are the correct coordinates!"
"And I believe you, Sam. But without the data in the buoy, we can't plot a straight line course to the Temple of Hopes. We'll have to jump from system to system until we're close enough to get a proper fix, but I want to leapfrog as many systems as possible in order to conserve fuel. So, while Melania and Miriam work the problem, we'll use the time to explore the immediate neighborhood. Maybe we'll get lucky and stumble on a second beacon."
"Captain, Spot and Rover have just jumped in." Deitra Symonds was studying their DRADIS display. "We should have the report on grid Beta Nine downloaded within ten minutes."
"Okay … that leaves Rachel and Elektra to finish their sweep of Alpha Four. Melania, how are you coming with our course heading?"
"Kara, the nebula is putting out a lot of interference, especially in the EM band width. I recommend that we jump clear, and start from scratch."
"Miriam?"
"I agree. There's so much distortion across the entire spectrum that I wouldn't trust any fix taken from this position."
"All right, we'll go with your recommendation. Sam, you're the only one who knows anything about what's on the other side of the nebula. What do you think? Should we go up … down … left … right? It's your call."
"DRADIS contact," Ponytail interrupted; "it's the Heavy Raider. And they're hailing us."
"Maybe they've found something," Kara said on an upbeat note. "Put them on speaker."
"Adriatic, we've got company," Rachel reported; "and it isn't the Cavils."
"Say again, Heavy." A chill ran down Kara's spine. She had never believed that a first contact situation would end well. Sentient reptiles or insects would logically have only one use for human beings, and she definitely didn't fancy ending up inside one of their gullets.
"It's a first war basestar, under centurion control … probably one of the ships we fought about five months ago. Kara, an IL-0005 is in charge, and it wants to talk."
"Talk?" Kara was incredulous. "What the frak is there for us to talk about?"
"Child, it's not you that the IL wants to meet. It's Papa Sam."
"Did he give you a name," Sam called out.
"Yes … the IL calls itself Lucifer."
"Lucifer?" Sam was so shocked that he couldn't speak for several seconds. "Kara," he finally whispered, "when we were brokering the Cimtar Accords, Lucifer was our envoy to the Colonies. He was the second most highly ranked IL in the entire collective. He answered only to the Imperious Leader."
"And now he's out here, on the back end of nowhere. Well, well, well," Kara grinned, "what are the odds? So, whaddya think, Sammy? Are you up for a good, old-fashioned family reunion?"
"Kara, what are you thinking?"
"Let's invite him around for a chat. You can turn on the old Anders charm … exchange a few war stories … reminisce about the days of yore. I want to know whether they're doing Cavil's bidding, or have an agenda of their own. Find out what they're up to, Sammy; our lives may very well depend on it."