BATTLESTAR GALACTICA/PLANET OF THE APES CROSSOVER
                        by Eric Paddon
    Based on "Battlestar Galactica" created by Glen A. Larson
               And the movie "Planet Of The Apes"
          Screenplay by Rod Serling and Michael Wilson
             Original novel written by Pierre Boulle
                       Posted May 23, 2000

                     Prelude

   "God damn you all to Hell!"
   Taylor's tormented words echoed off the cliffs as he pounded his
fist in the sand and stared at the remains of the once proud and
majestic Statue of Liberty.  Venting his anger over the shocking
discovery that his planet, and his civilization was the one that had
descended into the depths of primitive savagery.
   Colonel George Taylor had been the commander of an historic mission
into deep space called Project Magellan that had left the planet Earth
in the year 1972.  He and three other astronauts, co-pilot Major
Stephen Landon, the African-American scientist Dr. Arthur Dodge and the
beautiful Lieutenant Julia Stewart were to travel 350 light years
beyond their star system and plant a new human civilization on a
distant world.  For Taylor, a lifelong misanthrope with little regard
for his own people, it was a unique opportunity to start afresh, and
escape the problems of a time he had long ago come to loathe.  To
search for something better than man, as he had boasted to one of his
fellow astronauts.
   And then, they had awaken from hibernation in the year 3978 to
discover that they had crashed in a massive inland sea in the middle of
what appeared to be a mysterious desert planet.  And with their
awakening came the discovery that Astronaut Stewart was dead.  Killed
when a leak had developed in her hibernation chamber.
   Together, Taylor, Landon and Dodge had escaped from their sinking
spacecraft and made their way ashore.  Their initial discovery seemed
promising.  After traversing the desert region, they soon stumbled
across signs that the planet contained pockets of life that were
veritable oases.  There was plenty of food, large sections of fertile
jungle, and most importantly a large habitation of primitive, mute
humans who roamed about as if they were mere animals.  It seemed that
gaining control of the planet would be little problem at all.
   Then, the nightmare had begun with the sudden appearance of
leather-clad creatures on horseback taking part in a hunt, with the
humans as their targets.  And Taylor could still recall the feeling of
horror as he'd caught his first look at them.  Apes.  The planet was
run by a civilization of intelligent, talking apes.  A warlike, brutal
race of apes that kept humans in chains and cages.
   After being shot dead in the hunt, Dodge had been stuffed and
mounted for permanent display in an ape museum.  Landon had been
captured, and when the apes had discovered that he was an intelligent
human they had performed brain surgery on him that completely destroyed
his intelligence, forever robbing him of all his memories and his
identity.
   Taylor nearly suffered the same fate.  Only the intervention of the
compassionate ape psychologist Dr. Zira and her husband, the
archeologist Cornelius, had saved him from the corrupt Chief Scientist,
Dr. Zaius, who had seen Taylor as a threat to the established order of
Ape domination.  For Taylor's mere existence proved the falsity of the
"sacred" concept that apes had always been the supreme species, and
that man had never known the ability to think or reason.
   Together, Cornelius and Zira had helped Taylor make his escape to
the desert region beyond the Ape City, the so-called "Forbidden Zone". 
But not before he had insisted on taking the primitive female they had
provided him with during his captivity.  A beautiful woman whom Taylor
had named Nova.  If Taylor was to search for a new hope far away from
the brutality of the apes, he needed to have companionship.  Someone to
care for and to love so that he might be able to keep what was left of
his sanity.
   And now, after journeying up the coastline in search of a place of
safety to settle in, Taylor had come across the remains of a sight he
knew all too well.  And with it, the horrible realization that the
upside-down world where ape ruled over man was in fact his own.
   "You finally did it!" Taylor pounded the sand again as the ocean
rolled over his legs and hands, "All those years of killing each other
wasn't enough!  You just had to go all the way and blow everything up!" 

   He did not care how it had all happened.  A Soviet first strike? 
The Red Chinese?  Renegade elements of his own country?  None of that
mattered to him.  The only fact that stood out was that all the
negative feelings he'd felt about mankind that had compelled him to
travel 2000 years into the future had been vindicated in a hideous
fashion.  But now, there was no hope of ever finding something better
than man.  He'd been forced to see the consequences of what had
happened to his own race.   
   Finally, after several minutes on his knees, Taylor warily rose to a
standing position.  He was too drained to vent his anger any longer.
   He turned around and looked back at Nova who was still sitting on
the horse with a wide-eyed look of concern.  Slowly, practicality began
coming back to him.  His discovery, shocking as it was, didn't really
change his basic situation.  He still had to go about the task of
finding a new home for the two of them to settle in.  The important
thing for now was to move on.
   Taylor let out a sigh and mounted the horse, planting himself in
front of Nova.
   "It's all right Nova," he said quietly, "We'll be fine."
   He paused and turned around so he could look into her innocent brown
eyes. 
   "I envy you, Nova," Taylor sighed, "You're almost lucky to not
comprehend what seeing that whole thing means."
   There was still no response from her.  Small wonder.  There wasn't a
single human on this planet other than himself who could talk.  Nova,
like all the rest of them, was little more than a creature of the
jungle.  More docile than others of her kind perhaps, but still with
more of the instincts of an animal than a rational being.  From a
mental standpoint, Nova and her kind represented total regression on
the evolutionary scale.
   But as Taylor prepared to take hold of the reins and move on, he
suddenly felt Nova's arms go tightly around his waist.  And then, he
felt the gentle tousle of her dark brown hair as she buried her head on
his shoulder.
   Slowly, a glimmer of hope came back to him.  He could sense feeling
and emotion inside Nova.  Was it possible that there was more he could
do for her?  Educate her.  Teach her to talk.  And from there...
   He tried not to let his mind race too far.  Already, he was fast
trying to cope with the realization that this was his planet he now
found himself on.  And that whatever happened to him and Nova carried
ramifications far greater than he could ever have imagined.
   He slowly turned the horse around so he could look back at the
Statue of Liberty one last time.
   There lay the remains of what mankind had once been.  Noble and
proud enough to build a statue symbolizing a commitment to liberty and
freedom.  And foolish enough to forget those values and destroy the
statue and themselves.
   Further back, he knew that Cornelius and Zira had returned with Dr.
Zaius to Ape City.  The symbol of what mankind had degenerated into.
   Ahead of him lay an unknown path.  A path that was sure to be
fraught with all kinds of perils and dangers if he was to survive.  And
yet, he couldn't help but sense that somewhere along that path lay an
ultimate answer to why he, a lonely misanthrope from the 20th Century
had been thrust into this incredible position he found himself in.
   Taylor finally turned away from the statue and pulled the reins. 
With that, the horse resumed its lonely journey up the coastline.

                   Chapter One

   The scene was an awesome display of brilliant white light, just as
Apollo had remembered it.  Twice before, he knew he had visited this
place, though his memory still held gaps on some of the details
surrounding those visits.  But he did know that aboard this wondrous
vessel of light were the most remarkable beings known to exist in the
universe apart from the Almighty Himself.
   "Step forward, Commander Apollo," the rich, luminous voice that
Apollo remembered from that first visit filled the cavernous chamber. 
"There is much to explain in so little time."
   Apollo's mind was totally oblivious as to how and why he had come to
be here, aboard the Ship of Lights once again.  The only thing he felt
at that instant was a feeling of total serenity.  The faith that his
father had passed down to him had grown stronger with each passing
yahren, and that faith alone was enough to tell him why he was now
here.
   He stepped forward towards the other side of the chamber and then
saw a human-looking form emerge.  Apollo already knew from past
experience that it wasn't a real image.  It was but a projection made
by one of the Guardians so they might be able to communicate more
easily with him.  The Guardians themselves were totally luminous.  Far
beyond the need of normal human appearance.  Apollo still didn't know
if that was because they represented the next advanced stage of human
evolution, or if it was merely the form bestowed on those chosen by the
Almighty after death.  When he had asked them about their nature once,
their answers had been suitably ambiguous so that either conclusion
could be reasonably inferred.
   Instantly, he recognized the form as John, the Guardian who had
recruited Apollo so many yahrens ago to stop the fighting on the planet
Terra.
   "Hello Apollo," John smiled brightly as he came up to greet him, "It
is good to see you again."
   "I am ready to listen to what you have to say, John," Apollo said
with total deference and respect.  Now that he was a much older and
wiser man, he had reached enough conclusions about the Guardians that
he didn't need to get upset over their tendency towards reticence and
ambiguity in how they explained things.
   "Good," the Guardian nodded, "Because what I have to say is
uncharacteristically blunt of me.  On this very day, the quest that
began for your people twenty-five yahrens ago will come to an end.  You
will find the planet Earth at long last."
   Apollo's mouth fell open in amazement, "You mean---"
   "I mean exactly what I say, Apollo," John said firmly, "Your quest
is over.  When you send a patrol out to investigate the next solar
system ahead of you, they will find a system of nine planets orbiting a
class G-2 sun.  Only one of the planets is capable of sustaining human
life and contains lifeforms.  That planet is Earth."
   Apollo felt numb with exhilaration, "John, what can I say except---"
   "Say nothing," the Guardian abruptly cut him off and held up a hand
of warning, "There is nothing more I can say to you at this point.  I
offer you no information as to what kind of planet Earth is.  Only the
assurance that what you will find is the planet you have sought.  And
it will be incumbent upon you and your people to make use of what is
there to insure the survival of your civilization."
   Apollo opened his mouth to try and say something, but he hadn't
begun to form the first syllable of his words when John lowered his
hand and suddenly everything went totally black.....


   He came to and found himself lying in the bed of his spacious
quarters aboard the Galactica.  Sheba lay curled up next to him,
sleeping blissfully.
   Apollo rubbed his temples as he quickly relived every detail of what
he had just experienced.
   A dream, he thought.  They appeared to me in a dream, because they
know I don't fly vipers anymore and they can't abduct me to make
contact.
   Without giving it any thought, he quickly nudged his sleeping wife
so he could tell her what had happened.  Once she was awake and had
given him only a gentle rebuke for rousing her, Sheba believed him the
instant he told her what he had experienced.  It was the kind of story
that one might not believe at first hearing, but Sheba had no reason to
doubt what her husband had said.  For she too, had known the experience
of seeing the Guardians firsthand, and understanding the power they
held.
   When it officially became morning by the Fleet Chronometer, which
had run according to Caprica Standard Time ever since the beginning of
the Exodus twenty-five yahrens ago, Apollo wasted little time in
summoning his best friend, and both of his children to his quarters.
   It was not for the idle reason of sharing good news with the people
who meant so much to him.  The meeting would be in the context of
Apollo's official capacity as commander of the Galactica.  A position
he had held since the death of his father, Commander Adama five yahrens
earlier.  Amazingly enough, Apollo had been able to step into the role
of commander with virtually no charges of nepotism from the Council of
Twelve or any of the dissident factions known to exist within the
Fleet.  Apollo's stature as a warrior had passed into the realm of
Legend by this point.  A stature not known to have existed with any
warrior since the days of Commander Cain.
   It was not a stature that the ordinarily introspective Apollo had
wanted or desired.  But both Adama and Sheba (whom Apollo had married
not long after that mission when he and Starbuck had infiltrated the
lone Cylon baseship) had urged him not to resist it.
   "People need heroes," his father had said, "You'll find in later
yahrens that the stature of a Legend will serve you well."
   That had turned out to be all too true when Adama spoke to him for
the last time, a mere sectan before his death, and revealed that he had
chosen his son to be his successor.
   "More than anyone else, Apollo, you understand the real purpose of
what lies behind this quest we have followed all these yahrens for
Earth," Adama's voice was showing signs that the end was not far off
for him, "That is why it is imperative for you to lead us the rest of
the way."
   He had protested, saying that to take command would be perceived as
a slight to Adama's long-time executive officer Colonel Tigh.  He had
also been concerned over the specter of his father showing overt
favoritism toward one of his two remaining children.  But Adama had
allayed those fears right away by having Athena and Tigh come visit so
they could assure Apollo that they agreed with the Commander's
decision.
   And as Adama had predicted, Apollo's stature as a Legend among
warriors had made the people conditioned in advance to accept the idea
of him as the new leader.  Even though there were still times when
Apollo wasn't sure he could believe it himself.
   On this day though, he knew that total inner confidence was needed,
as he sat back in his chair behind his father's desk and saw Starbuck,
Boxey and Hera enter.
   Starbuck was well into middle age now and had not bothered
concealing some of the signs of that process.  His blonde hair was
still full but had turned steel-gray in color.  That, and a perpetual
two-week stubble of beard lent Starbuck the grizzled, weather-beaten
air of a veteran pilot who had seen everything, and now that
twenty-five yahrens had passed, was regarded as one of the best there'd
ever been.
   His two children were total opposites in appearance.  Boxey, despite
not being his biological son had somehow managed to turn into a young
version of himself anyway.  He had his father's black hair and the same
bearing and temperament.  And he had also idolized Apollo to the point
where his career choice of viper pilot was all but preordained.  Now,
he was a five yahren veteran of Blue Squadron and had already made
Lieutenant.  His career had not been filled with any of the spectacular
feats that had made both Apollo and Starbuck famous, but it had been an
exemplary career up to this point that had done his father proud.
   Hera, his daughter born two yahrens after he and Sheba had married,
was the total image of what her mother and her maternal grandmother
Bethany had looked like at the same age, except for her hair being
lighter and more blonde than brown in color.   She also had the trace
of her maternal grandfather Commander Cain in her as well, with a
quick-edged, decisive temperament that had earned her the highest marks
of all the cadets in her graduating class from the Warrior Training
School.  After only four sectars on active duty as an Ensign, she
already had shown signs of  determination to become the best warrior of
her generation.
   As he had with Sheba, Apollo explained the details of what he had
experienced in his dream. 
   "I think this is the confirmation we've been looking for," Apollo
said, "For the last five sectars we've been getting one gamma signal
after another that's clearly of Earth origin.  I think what they were
trying to tell me is that the next planet we find that has any
lifeforms is Earth, and that we don't have to go through any of that
anxiety wringing our hands over whether this is or isn't the planet
we're supposed to settle on."
   "Apollo," Starbuck said as he chewed on an unlit fumarello, "You
don't need to do any convincing of me, but what do you say to the rest
of the people when you tell them that we're going to find Earth today?"
   "I rest on my laurels and the fact that they trust me implicitly on
all things related to Earth," the commander smiled wryly, "I think all
those gamma signals ahead of time have already prepared public opinion
to accept the fact that Earth is near, and it's not impossible to
accept the idea that we find it today."
   "Too bad we can't understand a word of them," Boxey spoke for the
first time, "Just a few blurry images of a human making a journal
entry, saying garbled things I couldn't even begin to figure out."
   "And yet in at least two of those transmissions, we heard that human
say the word 'Earth.'" Apollo said, "Which was all the proof we
needed."
   "Not that it's stopping Boomer from spending eighteen centars a day
trying to clean up the audio on them," Starbuck smirked, "Good thing he
loves his new line of work."
   "And one thing I know about you, Starbuck, is that you'll never find
a new line of work to love," the commander returned it.  Because of all
the experiences they'd shared down through the yahrens, he allowed
Starbuck considerably more leeway in addressing him than others would
for the Commander, "Starbuck, get your viper ready and prepare to take
Hera and Boxey out on patrol.  If you keep following the track ahead of
us, you should run right smack into the solar system containing Earth. 
When you find her, take a quick scan for general readings and bring
them back here.  We'll go over the data and then be able to make a
decision on which contingency plan to put into effect."
   "Okay," Starbuck rose, "I guess we get started then, right pilots?"
he flashed a smile at the two warriors who had looked up to him as a
favorite uncle as they'd grown up.
   "Not yet, Starbuck," Apollo held up a hand, "I want Boxey and Hera
to stay a few centons.  You get down to the launch bay and make the
final preparations."
   The grizzled captain nodded in understanding and left the room,
leaving Apollo alone with his children.
   Apollo took a breath before he began.  Already, the young warriors
sensed that he was going to be speaking to them as their father, and
not as their commander.
   "If someone were to accuse me of resorting to nepotism in having the
two of you accompany Starbuck on this patrol, they'd be correct," he
said.  "It means a lot to me that the both of you, be the first of our
people to actually see Earth."
   Their father sighed and began to pace about behind his desk, "The
only reason why we've made it this far is because your grandfather, at
the blackest centon in human history, received the wisdom and strength
to conceive this idea and put it into effect on such incredibly short
notice."
   "And he had to do it when he'd suffered a lot himself," Hera spoke
up.  She had long been familiar with how the night of the Holocaust had
killed two relatives of hers that she had never known.  Her grandmother
Ila, and her uncle Zac.
   Apollo nodded, "I've never told this to anyone before except your
Aunt Athena.  I was with your grandfather that terrible night, and he
and I both went down to the surface of Caprica to see what had happened
to our house, and to see if your grandmother was still alive.  We found
only a burning, smoldering wreck.  And it was the only time in my life
that I ever saw your grandfather seem lost and helpless.  In fact, it
was the only time I ever saw him break down and cry."
   This information amazed both Boxey and Hera.  Both of them had
vivid, unchanging memories of Adama as totally strong and unflinching
in the face of any potential danger.
   "And yet only a few centons after he'd gone through this terrible
experience of seeing everything that he'd spent a lifetime building up
destroyed, he had already conceived of the idea that we needed to band
together and seek out Earth.  Overcoming that kind of personal
adversity that would have destroyed a lesser man, to provide the answer
that saved human civilization tells you a lot about how great a man he
was."
   "It's too bad he couldn't be alive for this," Boxey said with a tiny
air of sadness.
   "I know," Apollo nodded, "But I can think of no better way to honor
his memory, and acknowledge his part in carrying us this far in having
both of his grandchildren go on this patrol."
   Boxey and Hera both seemed too touched to say anything.
   Apollo pulled out two objects from his desk.  One of them was a gold
medallion on a chain with a pyramid shaped design at the center.  The
other was a gold ring with several ornamental jewels affixed.
   He handed the medallion to his son, "Your grandfather wore this Seal
of the Lords to denote his power as a member of the Council of Twelve,"
he said, "He also used this medallion to officiate the sealing
ceremonies when I married your mother and your stepmother."  he paused,
"I'd like for you to be wearing it while you fly the patrol."
   Boxey was still at a loss for words as he took the medallion and
with some hesitation, put it around his neck.
   Apollo then turned his attention to Hera and handed her the ring,
"This was a gift to your grandmother Ila when she retired from her work
at the Caprica Fine Arts Institute," he said, "It was one of the few
things of hers that your grandfather saved from the wreckage of our
house.  He always cherished it as a reminder that though she was gone,
her spirit was making the journey to Earth with him."
   With the same hesitation her brother had shown with the medallion,
Hera slipped it on her finger.
   "This way, I can feel secure that though neither of them are here, a
part of them did finish the journey," Apollo said, "And I know that
both of them are glad that they've left a precious legacy in the both
of you to help lead us in this next important phase of human history."
   He could see the tears glistening in his daughter's eyes as Hera put
her arms around him.  A few microns later, Boxey had joined them to
share in the collective embrace.
   Finally, Apollo released them both, "I'm proud of you both," he said
with all the tenderness he summoned, "I may not get a chance to say
that as often as I probably should, but I want you to always know
that."
   Hera wiped her eyes and slowly regained her usual bearing of
military decisiveness, "You and Mom have never had to say it all the
time, Dad," she said, "We know."
   Boxey still felt too moved to say anything himself.  Again, that was
part of his more introspective nature.  His sister was always the one
who felt more comfortable finding the right words for the occasion.
   "Okay," Apollo smiled, "Now get down to that launch bay and make
this a day they'll be reading about thousands of yahrens from now."
   
   
   One centar later, the three vipers had launched and were well into
their patrol. 
   "This is Blue Squadron patrol, reporting to Galactica," Starbuck's
tone was uncharacteristically one of dead seriousness,  "We have
reached the outermost periphery of what appears to be a solar system
that matches the correct description.  Nine planets.  One sun, class
level G-2."
   "Good," Apollo's voice came through his helmet, "Scan each planet
for lifeforms and atmosphere readings."
   "Will do," Starbuck nodded and then switched frequencies so he could
talk to the rest of his group of three vipers, "All right Blue Group. 
Peel off and start checking out those planets and transmit all
telemetry data back to the Galactica."
   "Mind if I take that big one with the rings, Starbuck?" Boxey's
voice came through, "It sure looks funny."
   "Be my guest Boxey," Starbuck grinned.
   "You've got no imagination, Brother," Hera chimed in.  "The bigger
one with the red spot looks far more interesting."
   "That's because you always had a thing for boys with large red
freckles, right?" he retorted good-naturedly to his step-sister.
   "Maybe," her tone matched his, "So long as none of them reminded me
of you."
   "Okay kids, Uncle Starbuck has to step in and restore order,"
Starbuck cut in, trying to suppress a chuckle.  He knew that the
put-downs between Boxey and Hera only masked the deep bonds of
closeness they felt to each other.  "We need to summon total dignity if
this turns out to be the day we find Earth."
   "Aye aye sir!" Boxey said with an edge of mock seriousness, since
they already knew the answer to that question was not if but when.


   Aboard the Galactica, Apollo sat in the command chair on the upper
level of the bridge with his fingertips together in contemplation. 
Although he had been commander of the great battlestar for more than
five yahrens, it had only been in the last few sectars that he had
finally felt comfortable enough to sit down in the chair that had been
his father's for so long without any ill-at-ease feelings or
discomfort.  Events had taken on such a dramatic turn-of-events in that
time, that he knew that his inner inferiority complex had to be swept
aside for good.  He needed to act with more confidence in his own
abilities or else he knew that he risked the lives of all the people in
the Fleet.  And one way to do that, was to start thinking of the
Galactica as something that was now his, and not some perpetual
extension of his father.
   "Feel nervous?" the executive officer spoke up from beside his
chair.
   Apollo looked up at Sheba and smiled, "Like a cadet on his first
solo flight."
   "I know what you mean," his wife looked out the main viewing screen,
"I'd give my right arm to be out there and be the first to see Earth."
   "That'd be a tragic waste of a very pretty right arm," Apollo got to
his feet.  Very seldom did he allow any intimate words to pass between
them when they were both on duty, but this day seemed different from
others.  On this day, they would finally reach the end of a journey
that had began twenty-five yahrens ago when Commander Adama had
gathered 70,000 survivors of human civilization in search of the
legendary thirteenth colony, the planet Earth.
   "Anyway," the commander went on, "If we couldn't be flying our
vipers, it's only fitting our children performed the honors."
   Sheba smiled back and brushed away a lock of her shoulder-length
brown hair.  There was so much she wished she could say at that moment
how it was often hard for her to think of Boxey and Hera as
full-fledged warriors.  Boxey, whom she had raised and loved as though
he were her own, had become a young version of his adoptive father. 
What he had not been able to inherit from Apollo by genetic instinct,
he had inherited instead as the result of studying his father's
techniques and following all the advice Apollo had given him down
through the yahrens.  Even though Hera was the total opposite and had
truly inherited all of her mother's characteristics in appearance and
temperament, there had never been any clashes or conflicts between the
siblings.  Strangely enough, the fact that they were both so different
in their approaches to being warriors had only served to make them feel
closer to each other as brother and sister.
   Then again, she mused, that had also been why Apollo and Starbuck
had been so inseparable down through the yahrens when they had flown
together.
   "First telemetry reports coming in, Commander," Major Omega looked
up from his console, where he had been a steady rock of stability from
the very beginning of the Galactica's journey, "The outer planets, save
one, are all gaseous giants filled with atmospheres totally unsuitable
for any life as we know it.  Patrol is now proceeding toward the inner
planets but they have to navigate through a large asteroid belt first. 
It'll be ten centons before they can start taking readings."
   "Thank you Omega," Apollo said, "Keep their channel opened direct to
me."
   "Well, we should find out soon if the Ship of Lights is still
reliable like they always have been," Sheba sighed, "If Earth really
isn't there, then a lot of people are going to lose their religion very
fast."
   "It's there," Apollo's tone was firm and resolute.  "There's no
question that Earth is there in this system.  It's only a matter of
what kind of Earth we find."
   Sheba looked down at her husband, "What kind of Earth are you hoping
for?"
   "I've never let myself think about that for one micron," he said
flatly, "Something my father told me a long time ago.  Don't fill your
mind with any expectations about what we might find on Earth.  Accept
the will of the Lord and work with what you're given.  That's why he
had us draw up action plans all those yahrens ago for dealing with a
society ahead of us, equal to us or far behind us."
   Sheba decided not to press the point.  Inside, for twenty five
yahrens she had harbored a dream inside of her that Earth would be a
technological miracle.  A colony that had flourished on the same order
that the Twelve Colonies had.  And strong enough to help their brothers
turn the tide at long last in the fight against the Cylon Empire.
   She had never liked to think of the prospect that Earth was nothing
like that at all, even though as executive officer she was privy to the
details of the action plan for dealing with a primitive Earth.  She had
no doubt that as a professional warrior who needed to do her job, she
could rise to the occasion and help put such a plan into effect.  What
she doubted was her ability to handle the prospect from a purely
emotional standpoint.  For if Earth was totally incapable of helping
the survivors of the Colonies fight back against their sworn enemy,
then what hope was there left?  The whole journey across the stars that
had taken so much sacrifice, and had seen so many brave souls like
Giles, Greenbean, Bojay and Commander Adama lose their lives, would
seemingly have been all for nothing.
   As she stood next to her husband and saw the medium-sized star that
contained the planets her children were now investigating, Sheba felt
herself praying with all her strength that the solution to turning the
tide would be found somehow.


   "That asteroid field was tougher than I figured," Starbuck's voice
was slightly subdued as the three vipers left the large quadrant of
rocks and meteors behind them and streaked toward the inner planets.
   "I had no trouble with it," Hera said.  "I've seen obstacles in a
simulator that were tougher than that."
   Either Hera is being naturally boastful, or I'm starting to get too
old for this, Starbuck said to himself.  But as far as he was
concerned, he intended to keep flying his viper until he was a
doddering old man of a hundred yahrens, and even then they'd have to
force him to give it up.  He'd long ago vowed that moving to bridge
duty as Apollo and Sheba had done was something he'd never let himself
get pushed into.  Unless he had an accident like the kind Boomer had
which had forced him out of the Service and into a new job as Dr.
Wilker's successor
   "First inner planet coming into range," Hera checked her scanner,
"Thin atmosphere.  Not capable of sustaining human life without normal
pressure suits.  No lifeforms."
   "Okay Boxey, you've got the third one coming up."
   "Affirmative Blue Leader," Boxey moved his viper into a slow bank
toward the next planet in the system.  "She has one moon.  My scanner
shows signs of some non-natural objects dotting the surface. 
Preliminary indications are that they're the remains of some crafts
that have landed there.  There's a lot of them all over the place."
   "That's a good sign," Starbuck said, "That indicates penetration of
the satellite by lifeforms.  Keep pouring it on."
   "I'm headed for the third planet," Boxey moved past the
crater-strewn landscape of the moon.  "Preliminary scan looks good. 
Definitely an atmosphere sustainable to life.  And....jackpot!" his
voice rose to an excited crescendo, "Lifeforms clearly indicated!"
   "That's it then," Starbuck grinned as he adjusted the communicator,
"Blue Leader to Galactica.  We have found Earth.  It's the third planet
in the system."
   "Terrific!" Apollo's excited voice came back, and Starbuck could
hear the sounds of cheering erupting on the battlestar's bridge from
all of the crewmembers on duty.  "Keep a low profile and take only a
cursory scan.  As soon as you have it, return to the Galactica
immediately."
   "Will do," Starbuck nodded, "You hear that, Boxey?  Take enough of a
reading to give us something we can work with, but don't attract the
attention of anyone down there who's watching."
   "Just need a few more microns," the brown haired lieutenant said,
"I'm starting the.....wait a micron."
   "What's up?"
   "Starbuck, Hera, I've got a contact registering in delta one-two
quadrant.  It seems to be on a trajectory headed right for Earth. 
She's moving very slow.  Barely moving at normal sub-light speed."
   Starbuck activated his scan beam toward the heading Boxey had
mentioned.  He could see the tiny blip registering on his grid.
   "I've got it," the grizzled captain said, "Hera, you picking this up
too?"
   "Sure am," the young ensign said. "Boxey, can you get a visual
contact scan of her?"
   "I'll need to move in a little closer," her brother said as he hit
his turbo and assumed a new heading.  "Should have it any micron now."
he flicked several switches on his console and then looked ahead
through his canopy.
   At first it was only a dim speck, totally indistinguishable from all
of the other stars in the background.  But as Boxey's viper drew closer
it began to grow larger and take shape.  Within microns, the dim speck
had become the shape of a spacecraft.
   The craft was long and sleek, silver-white in color and narrowed at
the front into a triangular point where the windows indicated a cockpit
region.  Markings covered the ship at various points from bow to stern,
but they spelled out words that meant absolutely nothing to Boxey, Hera
or Starbuck.  Above some of the words were colorful looking emblems of
red and blue that suggested some type of symbol indicating the craft's
origin.  Again, it was not of any design that struck a chord with the
three warriors.
   "Blue Leader to Galactica," Starbuck radioed with a cautious tone of
voice, "We have made visual contact with what appears to be an Earth
spacecraft.  Are you getting our telemetry?"
   "Affirmative, Starbuck," Apollo said.  There seemed to be an edge of
spellbound fascination in the commander's voice.  "Getting any life
readings?"
   "Just one micron.  Boxey?" he called over to the viper that was
closest.
   "I've got it," the young lieutenant nodded, "Scanner shows there are
three lifeforms aboard the craft.  98 percent probability that they're
human," he paused, "Scanner also shows that the occupants are in some
kind of state of suspended animation or sleep mode."
   Starbuck let his words sink in and suddenly started to laugh.
   "Oh boy," he chuckled, "Apollo, did you get that?"
   "I did," Starbuck could almost hear his friend's wry smile through
his helmet, "Haven't we been through something just like this once
before?"
   "I think we have," Starbuck said as the memories of a ship from the
planet Terra and her four passengers in hibernation that had caused so
many difficulties when they'd been taken aboard the Galactica for
observation briefly came back to him.  "And I don't think I need three
guesses to know that your order is to leave her alone and do nothing
that will disturb her mission."
   "Starbuck, you just went to the head of the class.  Don't even lay a
finger on that ship.  It's probably some deep-space expedition that's
finally coming home."
   "Got it.  Okay Boxey, resume trajectory for Earth and get back to
that planetary scan."
   "Just starting it up," Boxey said with crisp professionalism as he
felt the tingling exhilaration from seeing an Earth spacecraft wear
off, "Okay, atmosphere check.  Perfect.  Clear indications of human
life presence.  And....." he trailed off and then frowned, "Well now
that's funny."
   "What do you see?" Hera chimed in as she drew closer to her
brother's position.
   "I'm getting.....oh come on, this doesn't make any sense," a feeling
of disbelief started to come over Boxey.
   "What is it?" Starbuck noticed it.
   "Starbuck, I'm getting no signs of technology or major industrial
centers at all.  It's as if nothing on that planet's been developed."
   "You've got to be kidding," the grizzled captain said, "How can you
pick up an Earth spacecraft one micron, and then a planet with no
technology the next?"
   "I don't know but that's what I'm getting.  There's nothing down
there but lifeform readings."
   "Starbuck, he's right," Hera jumped in as her viper pulled up
alongside her brother's, "My scanner shows the same thing.  Lifeforms,
yes.  Technology, no."
   For one of the few times in his life, Starbuck was at a loss for
words.
   "Galactica, are you reading all this?" he finally decided he had to
turn for some advice.
   "We do Starbuck," the same edge of disbelief had entered Apollo's
voice, "And that's a combination of factors that doesn't add up.  If
we're looking at a primitive Earth, there's no way they could have the
kind of spacecraft we're seeing on the telemetry."
   "Unless that ship didn't come from Earth?" Boxey ventured as he
tapped into the frequency.
   "That wouldn't explain the presence of humans on that ship, Boxey,"
his father said.  "There are no other human settlements from here all
the way back to the planet Terra.  That's not a Terran ship, and it
certainly didn't come from the Colonies."
   Starbuck pulled up alongside the vipers of Hera and Boxey.  Ahead of
them, the shining blue planet was growing more and more visible,
showing off its continents and oceans like a beckoning signal to them.
   It was too tempting for Starbuck to pass up, "Commander, request
permission to have us proceed to Earth and investigate things on the
ground.  At this point, a simple telemetry scan isn't going to answer
any of the questions.  We need to check this out from ground level."
   There was a brief silence as the three vipers awaited a response
from the battlestar.
   "I don't like the idea, Starbuck," the commander said, "The risk of
something going wrong in a premature contact is high."
   "Commander, I promise you we'll keep a very low profile and just
look.  We won't do any mixing with the natives."
   He could hear Apollo slowly exhale in resignation, "All right
Starbuck.  Use your best judgment, and be on your guard."
   "We only need a few centars at best and we should have all the
information we need," Starbuck said, "We'll be back in no time."
   The three vipers started to ease back on their turbos as the blue
planet drew closer and closer.  The preparations for landing had begun.


   On the bridge, the early euphoria that had erupted was gone
completely.  Replaced by an air of somewhat pessimistic caution and
uncertainty.
   "No technology," Sheba felt stung by the words she'd heard, "That
doesn't bode well at all for us."
   Her husband tried to remain philosophical, "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Once
they're on the ground and do some investigating we should have a better
inkling of what we're up against."
   She looked at him with amazement, "Can you really be so calm?  If
those reports are correct, then Earth doesn't have anything that can
help us."
   "Those readings don't explain that spacecraft," Apollo cautioned,
"That's the one thing that's keeping me from implementing our action
plan for dealing with a primitive Earth. There's something down there
that knows how to build a spacecraft that's capable of making
deep-space travel.  Until I know just what that is, I'm not about to
concede that we're up against our worst case scenario."
   "You might as well break out the manual for it though."
   "Not until we have more information," he rose from his chair and
then went over to the railing where he looked down at Omega, "Omega,
send the telemetry tapes of that spacecraft to my station.  And notify
the Electronics Ship to have Boomer get over here immediately."
   "Yes Commander," Omega nodded and went to work on carrying out the
order.
   "You think Boomer can figure out something from that data?" Sheba
asked.
   Apollo half-smiled, "Well, he's been studying all those gamma
signals that led us to Earth.  I want to see if this spacecraft
remotely matches anything he picked up in those transmissions."
   He noticed the concerned look on her face, and quietly reached over
to squeeze her hand.
   "Hang tight, Sheba," he kept his tone low and gentle, "The Lord
hasn't led us this far across the galaxy just to come to a dead end."
   Sheba looked her husband in the eye and for the first time managed
to smile.  But inside, her uneasy apprehension was only increasing.


   For many months, there had been only stark, empty quiet aboard the
silvery-gray spacecraft that continued on its slow trajectory toward
the Earth.  The three men who ordinarily would have been at their
consoles to operate and guide the spacecraft had spent the last nine
months in a state of hibernation to conserve their resources and
prepare them for arrival at a destination that was totally unknown to
them.
   The computers guiding the spacecraft were programmed to keep the
three crewmen in their sleeping state until final landing took place. 
The only exception to that, was in case of a potential danger from
collision emerging.  If that contingency ever happened, the automatic
override to the commander's hibernation chamber would kick in, and the
crew would be awaken in time to take quick action.
   When the viper craft of Boxey passed within a mere five miles of the
spacecraft, a yellow alert siren shattered the nine-month silence and
numerous computer programs sprung to life with rapid action.  Within
thirty seconds, red flashing lights were blinking brightly above the
commander's chamber as the wake program was initiated.
   Ten seconds later, the commander's eyes started to flutter open.  It
took two blinks before he had all of his faculties back.  He put a hand
to his cheek and felt the scraggly growth of a nine month old beard
that had grown during his hibernation.  With the other hand, he pressed
several buttons above him, which quickly went red and activated the
glass case that had kept him protected all this time.
   The case slid open and the commander got to his feet.  Immediately
he directed his attention to the cockpit windows, expecting to see the
sight of a strange new planet.  Instead, he frowned when he saw that
the spacecraft was still flying in space.
   Even stranger still, were the sights that took up the view in both
windows.  He could see three objects that clearly had the contours of
being fast-moving space vehicles moving rapidly toward a blue planet in
the foreground.
   That explains the alert siren and why I'm awake, the commander said
to himself.  Those things got close to us.
   He rubbed his eyes and strained for another look.  Those unknown
craft were rapidly dwindling to tiny points of light as they drew
closer and closer to the planet.  They were evidently headed for a
landing.
   That really opens up a lot of strange possibilities, he thought as
he sat down in the command chair and activated some of the switches on
the console in front of him.  After silencing the alert siren, he
turned his attention to the most critical thing he needed to know.  He
needed a readout on the trajectory they'd been following for the last
year and a half since they'd launched.  If the trail was still hot,
then the first phase of the mission was about to come to an end, with
total success.
   The computer monitor printed out its information and the commander
grinned.  Everything was in order.  The trail they'd been following led
straight to the nearby planet.
   He rose from his chair and went back to the hibernation chambers
where his second-in-command and navigator remained oblivious to
everything in their state of sleep.  Like him, their beards had fully
grown in over the last nine months, making them both look
uncharacteristically different from their standard, clean-cut military
images.  Allowing himself a slight chuckle over their appearance, he
activated the switches that would bring them awake.
   Once again, the noise of computer systems kicking in filled the
interior as the commander went back to his seat at the forward end of
the spacecraft.
   "Ohhh...." the second-in-command was the first of the two to come
round as he absently put his hand to his cheek.
   "Okay gentlemen," Colonel Philip Rollins, ten year veteran of the
United States Astronaut Corps and commander of the American spaceship
Magellan II grinned wryly, "Rise and shine."
   Major John Brent, the expedition's second-in-command got to his feet
and stumbled forward slightly toward the cockpit area, "Have we
landed?" he rubbed his temples which were throbbing slightly.
   "Not yet," Rollins said as Brent settled into his chair on the left
side of the ship.  "Fowler, you awake?" he craned his head back.
   "Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," Captain Donald Fowler, the navigator who
had done most of the pre-hibernation flying mumbled as he got to his
feet and also made his way toward the forward part of the spacecraft,
"Christ, they didn't tell me that hibernation would feel that bad."
   "Simulators never have anything on the real thing," Rollins said as
he turned his attention to another console.
   "So how do we stand?" Brent asked with equal parts concern and
anticipation, "Are we still locked on Taylor's ion trail trajectory?"
   The commander nodded, "Still locked on to it.  There's no question
he ended up on that planet right in front of us."
   "Where exactly are we?" Fowler sat down in the chair behind the
other two, "And what time is it now?"
   "I don't know yet about the former," Rollins punched up some more
information, "As to the latter, you'll have the answer in a few
seconds."
   The three American astronauts shifted their attention over to the
ship's chronometer.  On the left side, the monitor for SHIP'S TIME
denoted the amount of time that had elapsed for them since they'd
lifted off from Cape Canaveral.  It read June 18, 1977.  For Rollins,
Brent and Fowler, only eighteen months had elapsed.
   On the right side, the monitor for EARTH TIME was recalibrating
itself.  And when the numbers came up, all three of the astronauts
stared in wide-eyed amazement.
   "Congratulations gentlemen," Rollins grinned, "You are now among
that select few who can say they have lived to be 2000 years old."
   Fowler shook his head in incredulous disbelief, "June 12, 3979."
   "Welcome to the 40th Century," Rollins shifted his attention back to
his console, "Hopefully, we won't have to spend much time dwelling on
that.  If all goes well, we lock on to where Taylor landed.  Pick him
and the others up and bid a quick retreat back the way we came to Earth
and the 20th Century."
   "Assuming we can make it back," Brent couldn't take his eyes off the
chronometer.
   "We can make it," Rollins ignored the edge of concern in his voice,
"We've just proved the first half of Dr. Hasslein's theories about
traveling through time.  That means his chances of being right about
performing the reverse are more than good for my purposes."
   "I hope," Fowler sighed, "But you'd think that if the Magellan made
it this way with no trouble, they'd have figured out how to get back
themselves."
   "Our comrades had no reason to think they could try to get back,
Fowler," Rollins took out a paper cup and helped himself to some water
from the dispenser next to his main console, "That's why we've come
after them on this rescue mission."
   The sandy-haired Brent had finally taken his eyes off the
chronometer.  He was trying not to let the reality sink in that he now
occupied a place in time and space where everything that he'd known and
loved no longer existed.  His fifteen year old daughter, whom he'd
shared an emotional last night with just before he'd left for Florida
and the mission.  His ex-wife.  His parents.  His friends.  They were
all dead and forgotten in this time and place.  It made him shudder
inwardly and only reinforced his desire that the sooner they found
Taylor and the rest of the Magellan crew, and got themselves back home,
the better he'd feel.
   "I thought we were programmed to wake up only after we landed,"
Fowler was still trying to readjust himself to his surroundings.
   "We got buzzed by some UFO's," Rollins sipped his water very slowly,
"That caused a yellow-alert situation and woke me up."
   "UFO's?" Brent looked at him, "You mean some kind of meteor
activity?"
   Rollins turned and flashed another wry grin, "No Brent.  I mean
UFO's.  Flying craft of some kind that evidently came from that planet. 
I got a clear look at them, and they were headed for a landing.  That
means in addition to Taylor, Landon, Dodge and Stewart, there's also
some additional company down there."
   "Alien life," Brent shook his head in amazement, "Somebody tell me
I'm dreaming."
   "You sure weren't for the last nine months," Rollins quipped as he
finished his water and crushed the cup with his bare hand, "Anyway,
from the looks of things we're only a day short of landing.  We might
as well stay awake for the rest of the journey and get ourselves
organized."
   Brent tilted his head back to loosen the stiffness he felt in his
neck and unzipped the top of his white NASA jumpsuit by an inch.  As
Rollins went back to his computer readings and Fowler helped himself to
an aspirin and water, the second-in-command returned his attention to
the blue planet that loomed in the distance.  There was a heavy amount
of cloud cover that obscured more than half of the surface from view. 
Only small patches of brown continents occasionally poked their way out
from under the heavy white streaks.
   Brent leaned forward in his chair and stared intently at the planet
for several minutes.  If he didn't know better, he could have sworn
he'd seen something familiar.
   "Skipper!" he raised his voice.
   Rollins looked up from his instruments and frowned at him, "Yeah?"
   "Is it my imagination, or does that planet look a lot like the
Earth?"
   Rollins gave the planet a cursory glance and shrugged.  "It
resembles it a bit."  
   "Skipper, I think that is the Earth!"
   "That's crazy, we've been going at light speed for almost eighteen
months away from Earth and----"
   Abruptly, Rollins broke off and his jaw fell open when he saw some
of the cloud cover lift, exposing the unmistakable shape of the North
American continent.
   Fowler had leaned forward to get a better look, and he too could see
it.
   "Holy shit," the red-haired navigator said under his breath.
   "We've come home, Skipper," Brent said, "Somehow, Taylor's
trajectory took him all the way back home."
   "How could that be?" Fowler couldn't believe it.  "It doesn't make
any sense."
   "You're right," for the first time since he'd awaken, the wry grin
had been wiped off the commander's face, "It doesn't seem possible,
unless...." he trailed off.
   "Unless what?" Fowler prodded.
   "Unless somehow, the computer failure knocked the Magellan  into an
elliptical heading.  Like the path of a comet that comes back to Earth
every thousand years or so, but...." he shook his head still finding it
hard to believe that a journey that was meant to travel hundreds of
light years into deep space had ended up back where it started.
   Brent felt the queasy sensation return to his stomach as he kept his
eyes locked on the Earth.  Many times, during his flights back from the
moon he had seen the Earth from this position and it had always
produced a sensation of warm reassurance in him.  Now, it produced just
the opposite.  The thought of having to face what the future was like
at home was the most terrifying thing he'd ever pondered.
   Abruptly, a warning light went off on Fowler's console.
   "What the--" the navigator hurriedly consulted some readings
   "Fowler, what's going on?" Rollins demanded.
   The red-haired astronaut looked at the readings in frustration,
"Sir, we've lost the ion trail.  It's dissipated completely."
   "Try getting it back!"
   "I can't sir, we were barely holding on to it.  We haven't lost our
bearing, the trail just dissipated.  There's nothing I can do about
it."
   "Great," Brent rolled his eyes, "Now there's no way of knowing the
exact spot the Magellan touched down."
   "Maybe not," Rollins tried to regain some optimistic initiative in
his voice, "But if we just keep going on a perfectly straight heading,
we ought to be sticking to the contours of where the trail line was. 
We might not land in the exact spot, but we should be roughly in the
ballpark."
   "Which can mean hundreds of miles on a planet the size of the
Earth," Brent felt the queasiness inside him increasing, "We'd have to
search the planet for God knows how long, and have to deal with an
entirely new civilization that would never believe for a moment who we
are and where we came from."
   "We'll just have to take that risk, Brent," Rollins said firmly.
   "Should we?" Brent raised his voice, "Sir, if I may make a
recommendation, I think we ought to abort the mission and start making
preparations to get back to our own time as quickly as possible."
   A look of incredulous anger came over the commander's face, "You
what?"
   Fowler was also taken aback by Brent's words, "Hey come on Brent,
there's no need to panic yet."
   "I'm sorry, but I think we're getting into dangerous territory if we
move on with this," Brent held his ground, "I don't think it's good for
us to have a sneak preview of what the future is like."
   "What are you afraid of Brent?" Rollins looked at him
disbelievingly.
   "Plenty," the sandy-haired astronaut looked at the Earth again, "I
just....Jesus, I don't want to know what the future is like.  Don't any
of you realize the burden we'd be putting on ourselves if we went back
to our own time knowing everything that happened for the next 2000
years?"
   "Brent, we're not even going to have time for finding out how
everything turned out," Rollins said patiently, "All we do is find
Taylor and the others, and get out quick."
   "Do you really think it's going to be so simple?" Brent felt on the
verge of losing control as he got out of his chair and started to pace
back and forth, "It might take weeks for us to figure out where they
are, especially when we've got a whole planet full of people to find
them in.  And by then we'd have learned too much."
   "What do you mean 'too much'?" this from Fowler.
   Brent glared at the navigator, "By the time we got back to our own
time, they'd be hounding us for all the information on what the future
is like.  Every unscrupulous politician, businessman and general will
want to know all the details to try and profit from that information. 
We'd end up....Jesus I can't begin to think of what that would mean for
us and our families."
   Fowler, who had a wife and a seven year old son, pursed his lips and
allowed Brent's words to sink in.  An uneasy flicker passed over the
navigator's face.
   Rollins, a widower with no children and no other family, saw it and
immediately gave Fowler a withering, angry glance that caused the
navigator to slink back in his chair.
   "What the hell are we conducting here, a goddamned philosophy
class?" the commander angrily snapped as he got to his feet and assumed
the most erect command posture he could muster, "Major Brent, let's get
a few facts in order.  We are on a mission with orders to find and
rescue the crew of the Magellan because of the shocking revelation six
months after they left, that Consolidated Dynamics, which furnished all
of the computer systems that were going to take our friends across the
stars to a habitable planet in Betelgeuse, installed a navigational
system that wasn't worth a crock of shit.  It was going to take them
totally off course and conceivably to a planet or system where they had
no chance of survival.  So that's why the three of us volunteered to
use the Magellan II to follow the trajectory they took and rescue
them."
   "I'm aware of that, sir," Brent tried not to look intimidated as he
assumed a posture of attention.
   "And you should also be aware that at this point, the mission has
been a total success.  We've traced the Magellan's trajectory to a
place where we know that Taylor and the others have to be alive.  That
means we go ahead, no questions asked and I don't care if it's the
future Earth we have to search.  Unless of you course, you and Captain
Fowler decide to stage a little coup d'etat."
   "No sir," Brent said summoning all the respect he could, "No sir,
not at all.  I just think that if we continue with this mission, we'll
end up regretting it."
   "I'll be the judge of that," Rollins said with an air of contempt,
"In the meantime Brent, I suggest you remember that those four people
are your friends as well as mine."
   Not exactly, Brent thought to himself.  Of the four astronauts from
the original crew, Brent only regarded Landon and Stewart as close
friends.  Dodge had been one of the non-military astronaut scientists
that he'd always been leery of and never tried to make friends with.
   And Taylor.  By God, Taylor had the biggest chip on his shoulder of
any man he'd ever met.  Always a surly loner who never liked to
fraternize with any of his colleagues away from the rigors of astronaut
work.  Forever complaining about the miseries of war, environmental
disaster and starvation afflicting the world.  Forever looking to the
stars and wondering if somehow, somewhere, another race existed that
had been able to do things far better than man had.  He came off as so
unlikable, that Brent always made a point of avoiding Taylor like the
plague when they weren't working together on mission-related matters.
   "I'm going back for a quick shower and shave," Rollins headed toward
the rear of the spacecraft, "Fowler, make sure we stay on an absolute
straight line relative to where the trajectory was heading."
   "Yes sir," the navigator seemed a bit subdued as he settled into the
commander's vacant chair, "ETA to landing in twenty hours."
   Brent sighed in resignation and returned his attention to the Earth,
which now took up the view in the entire right side of the cockpit
windows.  He could see the peninsula of Florida, where their journey
had begun so long ago.  He could also see the Gulf Coast and could make
out Texas.  Somewhere down there was Houston.  Where he'd spent so many
happy years with his wife and daughter before the pressures of
astronaut life had destroyed his marriage and left him unable to enjoy
watching his only child grow up.   
   Brent had no way of knowing how this mission into the distant future
was going to turn out, but he was already certain of one thing.  If he
got back home, he was turning in his resignation from the Astronaut
Corps as soon as he could.
   Since he was committed to going ahead with the mission though, he
tried to shift his attention away from his own personal demons to the
enigma of the man they were searching for, Colonel George Taylor.  The
more Brent thought about it, he did have a tinge of curiosity about
what Taylor's reaction had been when he found out he was still on
Earth.  And what there was about the Earth of the 40th century that the
perpetual misanthrope had found to complain about this time.
   In only twenty hours, he would find out for himself if the future
held something worth complaining about.

                    Chapter Two

   The three vipers had penetrated the upper atmosphere of Earth and
were fast descending toward the surface.  Since they'd made the
decision to proceed, there'd been little conversation between the three
pilots.  All of them felt the same edge of uneasy tension about what it
was they might find on the planet that had been at the center of their
hopes and dreams for most of their lives.
   In Hera's case, it had taken up an entire lifetime since she had
been among those born in space, and hence had no memory of what life
had been like in the Colonies.  Indeed, very seldom had she ever heard
stories of what the Colonies had been like from her parents, or from
people who'd been adults at the time of the Destruction like Starbuck,
Cassiopeia, or her Aunt Athena.  For the most part, there was a
tendency among adult survivors of the Holocaust to never talk about the
Colonies, because it too often proved to be a painful reminder of
wonderful things that had been taken from them forever in just one
terrible night.
    It was different for those who'd been small children at the time,
like Boxey.  Because of the reticence from her parents, Hera had
frequently found herself asking her older brother about the memories he
had of living on Caprica.  Of what it was like to know the joy of
living in the open space of an entire planet as opposed to the confines
of a ship floating in space.  To her delight, Boxey was willing to
oblige her.  He would tell her of the times when his late mother Serina
would take him on trips to Caprica's southern regions and he'd end up
wading into the warm ocean waters of the Eastern Sea waiting for the
waves to come in with the tide, and not wanting to come out of the
water until Serina was literally forced to drag him out.
   Her brother's stories always left Hera with the hope that she'd
experience that same kind of joy and freedom some time in her lifetime. 
As a result, she wasn't as concerned over the apparent lack of
technology on Earth as Starbuck and Boxey were.  For her, she was
willing to take any kind of planet to settle on as a wonderful new
experience.
   "Penetrating the atmosphere," Starbuck said as they passed through
the cloud cover, "We should have some visual contact with ground
level...now!"
   The pilots looked down and saw the clouds lift and the sight of land
beneath them.  It was the strangest mixture of topography that Starbuck
had ever seen on any planet he'd visited.  He could see the clear blue
waters of a large lake bordering some towering, rugged desert mountain
peaks.  But to the horizon, the Galactica warriors could see the
mountains and desert level off abruptly into the fertile green areas of
forests and jungle. 
   "Almost looks like a whole mixture of climates in this one area,"
Boxey finally broke the silence.
   "Yeah," Starbuck nodded, "And this definitely backs up that absence
of technology you scanned.  Can you pinpoint where the lifeform
readings are centered?"
   "No great surprise there, Starbuck," Hera said, "My scanner shows
all the lifeforms concentrated back in that jungle area.  That's the
place we've got to check out."
   The grizzled captain grinned, "As always Hera, you have such an
instinctive grasp of the situation, that you deny me the chance to give
the order myself."
   The three vipers glided over the desert peaks and saw the brownish,
barren terrain change over to a lush, fertile green.  As soon as a
clearing came into view, they brought them down there.
   As Starbuck popped open the canopy of his viper and looked about the
field, he felt his second flash of deja vu of the day.  Setting down in
the open field, bordered by a dense forest of trees put him in mind of
another time long ago, when he and Apollo and Sheba had landed in an
open field of a lonely planet.  And within a short period of time,
found themselves introduced to the most enigmatic figure they would
encounter in any of their lifetimes: a mysterious man in white robes
calling himself Count Iblis.
   All that's missing is the red glow and it's as if it's twenty five
yahrens ago, Starbuck mused as he dropped to the ground.  From the
other side of the field, Boxey and Hera were making their way over to
him.
   "Well, here we are," Starbuck said, "Not exactly the scenario I
envisioned for the first landing on Earth, but it seems like we have to
deal with it and find some answers."
   Hera, once again showing her sense of restless initiative, had
already pulled out her micro-scan device and activated it.
   There's no mistaking the command instinct inside her, Starbuck said
to himself.  She's not going to remain an Ensign for long.  Indeed, it
wouldn't have surprised  Starbuck a bit if Hera ended up outranking her
older brother someday.  There was no doubt that Boxey was a good
warrior who'd paid his dues and gone through his share of combat
opportunities since receiving his commission five yahrens ago, but the
grizzled captain felt that Boxey seemed to have just a tinge less
determination and fire than his younger sister did.  It was a
difference that would only become noticeable over the long haul though.
   As Hera activated her micro-scanner it didn't take long for the
machine to start emitting a series of beeps.
   "Lifeform contacts indicated just over one thousand metrones through
that first cluster of trees," Hera motioned her arm.
   "Okay," Starbuck said, "Have weapons ready at low stun setting only. 
The last thing we want to do is cause trouble.  If we can keep
ourselves hidden, we'll be a lot better off."
   The three warriors made their way forward toward the forest
perimeter.  Once they entered, they had to constantly brush away
numerous branches and leaves to keep moving.  The density of the
foliage was so great that for Boxey, it reminded him of his childhood
days playing hide and seek with his classmates inside the agro-ship. 
For Starbuck, it almost reminded him of the dim memories of wandering
through the Thorn Forest after the Umbra disaster that had left him
orphaned.
   After pushing away more thick clumps of leafy twigs, they could see
the glare of sunlight in the distance indicating that they were close
to another open field area.  The beeping on Hera's micro-scanner was
starting to intensify.
   "There are definitely people on that other side," Hera said, "These
preliminary readouts are correlating to human lifeforms right down to
the last detail."
   "Doing what?" Boxey snorted, "What in Kobol goes on in a planet
where you have no apparent technology yet still have the capacity for
spaceflight?"
   "We'll know soon enough," Starbuck said as he stepped in front of
them to assume the lead position, "And let's start keeping our voices
down."
   Starbuck reached the end of the forest perimeter and crouched sown
behind the last row of leafy bushes.  He slowly pulled out his laser
pistol from his holster and then cautiously pushed the branches aside
so he could peer out into the field.
   The veteran warrior saw what looked like a well-cultivated field of
maize plants.  The sweet golden vegetable had always been one of the
more expensive and rare food items in the Fleet's stock of plants and
crops aboard the agro-ship.  So rare that even a regular visitor to the
Rising Star's Main Dining Hall was forced to pay more than two hundred
cubits to enjoy a full serving with his dinner.  Seeing a large
abundance of the crop was by far, the first encouraging thing Starbuck
had seen since landing.
   If there's loads of maize on this planet, I've hit the jackpot, the
perpetual wheeler-dealer side of him was once again kicking in.  They
say it makes the best sweet ale you ever tasted.  I'd get the Black
Market guys to pay me a thousand cubits a pound for this stuff.   
   "What do you see?" Boxey whispered.
   Starbuck turned around and smirked, "Loads of maize.  Looks like
we've stumbled on to some kind of agro-community."
   "What about people?" Hera asked as she muted the sound emanating
from her micro-scanner.
   "Don't see anybody yet," Starbuck turned his attention back to the
field.
   "I've got field-magnifiers with me," Boxey said as he detached an
object from the left side of his holster.
   "Then you take a look," Starbuck stepped aside and allowed the
black-haired lieutenant to push away the foliage of the bush so he
could see.  Boxey then brought the magnifiers up to his eyes with the
other hand and focused his attention on the center of the field.
   "I think I see some movement going on," he said in a low tone,
"Those plants are moving, and I don't think it's the wind." Boxey made
a quick adjustment to the magnifiers and squinted through them to catch
the clearest possible glimpse of what was causing the plants to move.
   Finally, he saw it.  First one, then a second, then another, and
finally a whole cluster of them.
   "I see them!" he whispered in exhilaration, "A whole bunch of them,
and they're human all right but----" abruptly his voice trailed off and
he frowned.
   "What?" Starbuck touched his arm.
   Boxey shook his head, "Those are the strangest looking humans I've
ever seen.  They don't look like agro-workers."
   "Let me see," Starbuck took the magnifiers from Boxey and focused
his attention on the maize field.
   He could see what looked like twelve to fifteen humans aimlessly
wandering about through the field.  What amazed Starbuck was their
primitive, unkempt appearance.  The men and women were all golden in
complexion with shaggy manes of dark brown hair that fell past their
shoulders, with the men all sporting enormously thick, scraggly beards. 
All of them were practically naked, wearing only small loincloth type
garments that seemed to be made from a coarse bark material rather than
animal skin.  But what amazed Starbuck the most was the posture and
bearing of the humans.  They seemed to slouch and move about in a
haphazard, reckless manner, some of them plucking an ear of maize from
the field, others just thrashing about the tall plants.
   The magnifiers suddenly gave him a close-up of the face of one of
the men, and Starbuck suddenly realized what it was that disturbed him
the most about these humans.  It was the eyes.  Vacant.  Devoid of any
sense of reason or rationality.
   The longer Starbuck's eyes lingered on them, the more he began to
realize that these humans reminded him more of animals than people. 
The way some of them picked at the maize almost put Starbuck in mind of
watching a bovine grazing in a pasture.  But the disheveled, primitive
appearance of them suggested something more savage than a bovine.
   "Well?" Boxey asked, waiting to hear the veteran warrior's analysis.
   Starbuck lowered the magnifiers and shook his head, "They look like
a group that escaped from the Nuthouse.  Whatever they are, they're not
the ones we eventually make contact with."  
   "Captain," Hera was still looking at her micro-scanner, "I'm now
getting an indication of more lifeforms coming this way.  But the
scanner says they're not human."
   Before Starbuck could respond to her, the three warriors heard a low
rumbling noise that seemed to he headed towards the maize field from
the area to their left.
   "Sounds like a herd of equines," Starbuck said as he focused his
magnifiers to the left of the maize field.  Right away, he could see
that his hunch was correct.  The four-legged animals that held much
symbolism in the history of the Colonies (and had also been the logo of
the Battlestar Pegasus's flight squadrons) were quite distinct.  Not so
distinct were the riders.  Even with the magnifiers, they seemed too
indistinct, though Starbuck could make out what looked like thick,
leather clothing covering a dark body.
   "Looks like the agro-workers are arriving to deal with them,"
Starbuck lowered his magnifiers.
   "What workers?" Hera frowned, "Starbuck, my scanner isn't reading
any humans entering the area."
   The captain looked at her dubiously, "What do you mean it's not
picking up other humans?  There are people riding those equines so your
scanner has to show them."
   "Well it isn't!" Hera angrily thrust the device at the captain, "All
I'm getting are animal contacts."
   "For crying out loud," Starbuck shook his head in disbelief and
handed the magnifiers to the sandy-haired ensign, "Look Hera, see for
yourself."
   Hera stepped forward and raised the magnifiers so she could look out
into the maize field.
   Five microns later, she abruptly dropped the device.
   "Lords of Kobol," Hera staggered back two steps and whispered in
horror.  A tone of horror that Boxey and Starbuck had never heard in
her voice before.
   "What?" Boxey came over and put a hand on her shoulder, "What do you
see?"
   "Those aren't people riding them," she whispered and wildly gestured
her hand, "Look."
   Starbuck and Boxey both peered out through the bushes and their jaws
fell open in shock when they saw clearly the figures riding on the
equines.
   "Siminoids," the captain whispered under his breath.
   Only Starbuck had ever seen a siminoid at one time in his life. 
When he was ten yahrens old and living in the orphanage set up for the
Umbra disaster survivors, he'd been taken on an outing with the other
children to the Caprica Animal Preserve, located deep on the southern
continent as an untouched shelter for rare and endangered species of
animals to roam free.  The one group of animals he'd seen that had
scared him the most, even from the safety of an air tram overlooking
the Preserve, were the class known as siminoids.  Because siminoids
were the one known class of animals that had physiologies similar to
human beings in general terms, the young Starbuck had found their
repelling appearance reminiscent of the deformed monsters he'd see in
his childhood nightmares.  That was especially true of the siminoid
class known as 'gorillas.'  The smaller siminoids called 'chimpanzees'
and the orange colored ones dubbed 'orangutans' came off as slightly
more docile, but the sight of the wild gorillas going on a rampage
through the Preserve and slaughtering several other animals with their
brute strength for food proved to be unnevering for most of the
children riding the air tram.  Starbuck could still remember burying
his face in his hands to avoid looking at the sight, and then becoming
fearful that the tram would suffer a mishap that would cause them to
crash into the Preserve and be terrorized by the gorillas. 
   The creatures riding the equinians were clearly of the gorilla
class.  And what made them more frightening then the beasts Starbuck
recalled from childhood were that these gorillas had the proper dress
and bearing of normal human beings.  To the three Galactica warriors it
was a scene that suggested a total reversal in roles.
   Neither Boxey nor Hera had ever seen a siminoid in person at any
time in their lives.  The decision had been made during the hasty
period of the Exodus from the Colonies not to take any specimens with
them, since it was deemed that they served no useful purpose for
humans.  But the uneasiness they had produced in humans remained a part
of Colonial culture.  Many books and entertainment stories that spun
tales of colorful, hideous monsters frequently used the siminoids as a
starting point for their graphic descriptions.  In time, the younger
generation of children who had never seen a live siminoid, had come to
think of them as something that only inhabited their nightmares.
   The stunned horror on Starbuck, Hera, and Boxey's faces only
increased when they saw that the gorillas were carrying long guns that
they recognized as ancient numos, which fired metallic projectiles from
a compressed air mechanism.  And as soon as they converged on the
humans roaming the field, the gorillas immediately cocked their numos
and began to open fire.
   As the warriors saw two humans fall to the ground, Hera turned to
Starbuck, seething with anger, "Aren't we going to do something?"
   Starbuck was in a state of shock.  The order was to avoid all
contact with the natives, but this was one scenario that no one had
ever envisioned in a million yahrens.
   "We probably should," he drew out his laser pistol, "Those are
brothers of ours getting slaughtered.  Maybe some laser fire will scare
them off."
   "I agree," Boxey pulled out his own laser pistol and flicked the
switch that increased the setting from light to heavy stun.  Hera and
Starbuck though, went one step further and adjusted the setting to
kill.
   "Okay," Starbuck said over the crack of the numo shots as he moved
into position by the edge of the bush, "On my signal, charge out and
open fire."
   Starbuck poked his head through the bushes and saw that there were
six gorillas in all riding equines, four of them armed with numos, the
other two riding side-by-side and holding what looked like a giant net. 
As they bore down on a cluster of fleeing humans, he instantly realized
that it was meant to trap them in the same way a fisherman would catch
fish from the sea.
   "NOW!" Starbuck shouted as he darted out of the bushes and into the
clearing.  Boxey and Hera were right at his feet.  The grizzled captain
promptly took aim at one of the gorillas holding the net and fired. 
The red streak of laser fire sailed across the field and struck the
siminoid right in the chest.  Instantly, he fell off his mount to the
ground causing the net to go slack.
   The flaming red streak and its powerful impact was a sight that none
of the humans or apes had ever seen before.  It caught them completely
by surprise at first.  When the gorillas saw where the red streaks were
coming from, looks of total incredulity came over their faces.
   The primitive humans began to wildly scatter about in different
directions, taking advantage of the confusion that had set in.  As the
gorillas tried to regroup, Starbuck, Boxey and Hera kept up their
barrage of fire.  Two more gorillas were knocked off their horses and
collapsed to the ground.
   And then, it was the warriors turn to be shocked when the lead
gorilla suddenly shouted in the clearest sounding voice, "Regroup! 
Regroup!"
   The sound of normal speech emanating from something they had only
thought of in terms of a savage animal was an even more shocking
revelation for the Galactica warriors.  It caused Starbuck to lower his
guard for just a split second.  A split second that gave one of the
remaining gorillas time to aim his rifle and fire.
   Starbuck felt the lead projectile hit him in the right shoulder.  He
staggered two steps back and dropped his laser into the thick grass
bordering the maize field.  He gritted his teeth in pain as he got down
to try and dig it up.
   Hera and Boxey quickly took time to regroup and got off another shot
at the gorilla who had wounded Starbuck.  His shot struck the horse
inside, and the animal let out a wild sound of pain, throwing its
occupant clear off into the brush.
   The remaining two gorillas managed to get clear of the area and rode
off back the way they had come.  They were soon too far away for the
Galactica warriors to get off any more shots.
   "Starbuck!" Hera shouted with concern as she and Boxey sprinted to
where he was still clutching his shoulder and trying to find his laser
pistol.
   "I'll be okay," he grunted as he clenched his teeth, "Frack!"
   "I think we've worn out our welcome on our first visit to Earth,"
Boxey said with no mirth as he looked about the field and shook his
head in disbelief, "What kind of a planet is this place?  Talking
siminoids that act like humans, and humans that act like....." he
trailed off and shuddered.
   "That act like siminoids," his sister finished for him.  "None of
this makes any sense."
   Starbuck finally found his laser pistol and reattached it to his
holster.  Feeling the sting in his shoulder increase, he threw off his
uniform jacket.  It instantly exposed the red blood stain on his tunic
underneath where the projectile had penetrated.
   "Is that projectile still in you, or did it just graze off?" Boxey
asked with concern.
   Starbuck shook his head, "It's still in there." he let out a grim
chuckle, "I guess Cassie's going to have to do some old-fashioned
surgery to take care of this."
   "Can you fly?"
   Again, Starbuck chuckled as he tore off a strip of material from his
jacket to use as a makeshift tourniquet, "After thirty yahrens of
getting shot at with lasers by Cylons, I'm not about to let a numo
projectile from a siminoid ground me."
   "Let's get out of here," Hera said, "This is not the time to go
investigating any further.  Not without a whole assault team of
warriors."
   "Agreed," the captain nodded.  "Although how we explain this to the
Commander is not going to be easy."
   They had started to move toward the forest that led back to their
vipers when they heard the low, ominous rumble of equines in the
distance yet again.  They turned back and saw to their horror more than
twenty gorillas charging toward them at incredible speed.
   "Take cover!" Starbuck shouted as the three warriors suddenly
scattered about the field.  "There's too many of them!"
   Hera dashed toward the far side of the maize field where another
stretch of forest loomed.  She heard the crack of numo shots whistling
over her head and felt her heart pumping faster than it had during her
first and only viper combat engagement with Cylon fighters.
   The tall grassy weeds sloped up toward the entry point into the
forest.  Hera threw herself behind a rock directly at the top of the
slope and crouched into a ready position.  She could see two siminoid
riders headed directly toward her.
   She rapidly got to her feet and fired at point blank range.  Her
shots hit their targets, and the two gorillas fell off.
   To her horror, she could see that the maize field was literally
being overrun by more than thirty gorillas brandishing numos and nets. 
It had reached a point where she knew that even with her superior laser
pistol, she and her fellow warriors didn't stand a chance of fighting
them off all by themselves.
   Hera whipped out her mini-comm, "Starbuck, Boxey, do you read me?"
   There was no response.  She strained her eyes down below trying to
locate where they were.  Finally, after a micron she saw Starbuck rise
up from the middle of the field to a standing position where he seemed
ready to open fire on a new pack of charging siminoids.
   "Starbuck!" Hera shouted, "Get out of there!"
   Whether he heard her or not, she couldn't tell.  The grizzled
captain had an air of defiance on his face as he opened fire at the
charging hoard.
   Another shot from the numo then rang out, and Hera saw in horror
that Starbuck had been hit in the shoulder yet again.  He staggered
back two steps slightly and seemed on the verge of collapsing into the
field when two riders brandishing a net suddenly scooped it down into
the field and snagged the warrior in it.
   The horses dragged the net for more than twenty feet, and Hera could
see Starbuck tangled up inside the roped prison, thrashing himself
about.  He had lost his laser pistol and was totally helpless at this
point.
   Hera was on the verge of charging out to shoot the two gorillas who
had captured Starbuck, but she had no sooner gone two feet into the
open when she saw a column of ten gorilla riders holding back.  She
instantly cursed herself, because she now realized that they'd been
waiting for her to expose herself.
   "Get that human!" the lead gorilla, who seemed to be wearing a more
military type of clothing with several epaulets at the shoulders,
shouted at the top of his voice as he pointed toward Hera.  "Don't let
her escape!"
   The young female warrior realized that there was nothing she could
do for Starbuck at this point.  Her first duty was to avoid capture and
find some way of getting word back to the Galactica.
   She saw that the equine from one of the gorillas she'd shot, was
aimlessly wandering about, ten feet away.  As the siminoid riders
started to move toward her, Hera realized that the animal offered her
only chance.
   She sprinted towards it, and managed to leap on to the animal's
back.  It was the first time in her life that she'd ever tried to ride
an equine, since there were so few of them kept in the Fleet and no
facilities for riding them.  But she had played a number of computer
games in the Rejuvenation Center ever since she was a child to know how
the riding principal worked.  Now, all the memories of those childhood
games would be more important to her immediate survival than any of the
things she'd been taught in the Warrior Training School.
   As soon as she was on the animal, she jerked the reins with all her
strength and gave the equine a firm kick in the side with her boot. 
The animal reared itself up and let out a whinny of pain, but then
began to move off at incredible speed.
   Hera almost lost her hold on the animal but held on to the reins
tightly and within microns had managed to settle into a comfortable
riding position.  The equine galloped at a fast pace down the length of
the open field toward a cluster of green covered hills in the distance. 
A quick glance indicated to Hera that the jungle was much denser and
thicker in that area.
   She looked back and saw that at least seven of the gorillas were
still pursuing her.  For the moment, she was maintaining an even pace
with them, which would keep them from catching up.  But how long she'd
be able to do that, she had no way of knowing.
   Above the sounds of the galloping, she heard the crack of another
numo shot.  It only added to the sense of horror she felt that this was
every childhood nightmare come to life.  It took her mind back to when
she was five, she had dreamed of being chased in a dark, empty ship by
a horrific-looking siminoid.  It had been so frightening that she had
waken up crying and screaming, which brought Apollo and Sheba dashing
in from the next room to see what was wrong and then comfort her.  She
could remember her mother holding her tight and whispering tenderly
again and again, "Don't be afraid Hera.  There are no siminoids. 
You'll never be hurt by one for as long as you live.
   As the memory filled her mind, Hera almost felt like laughing.  This
was going to be the most memorable day of her life, but it had turned
out that way for entirely different reasons.
   Crack!
   This time, Hera not only heard the numo burst, she could also hear
the sound of the projectile whistling over her head.  She didn't need
to turn around to realize that the siminoids were getting closer.
   She had to admit the obvious.  She could not outrun them
indefinitely.  She had to make another tactical move if she was going
to elude them.
   She could feel her equine going up the incline of a hill and when it
reached the top, the ground began to rapidly slope downward at an
almost forty-five degree angle.  She realized in an instant that she
was out of sight of her pursuers for the time being.  That meant she
had to make some kind of move before they reached the top of the
incline.
   Hera tugged at the reins to get the equine to slow down.  As soon as
the animal's speed slackened, she let go and threw herself off, making
sure that she'd tucked herself into a roll position that would soften
her impact with the ground.
   Immediately, she got to her feet and sprinted toward the forest
bordering the left side of the field.  She made it inside just as she
heard the pounding hoofbeats of her pursuers come soaring over the top
of the incline.  And then, they slackened off indicating that the
equines had come to a stop.
   Hera tried to keep her breathing under control as she pressed
herself behind a tree and went absolutely still.  The slightest sound
could be enough to tip them off.
   "Where did she go?" she heard one of the gorillas bellow, "Where did
that scum go?"
   "I can't tell, General Ursus," an apologetic voice answered, "It
looks like she's hid herself."
   "Do we keep searching, General?" another voice chimed in.
   There was a brief silence before the gruff sounding voice of the one
identified as General Ursus spoke.
   "No, I suppose we shouldn't waste any more time, since we've already
got one of them.  The sooner we go back and present him to Dr. Zaius,
the better.  Our Chief Scientist is going to have a lot of explaining
to do."
   One of them, Hera thought to herself as she remained motionless. 
That meant they hadn't captured Boxey.
   "I disagree sir," an urgent voice spoke up, "You saw what they could
do with those....those fire guns!  If one of them is allowed to stay
free, let alone two, it could mean disaster for us all!"
   "I appreciate your sense of urgency, Urko," Ursus said gently, "But
I think we should send in some fresh reinforcements to look for both of
those humans.  They won't have much trouble spotting them."
   She heard the equines start to move back in the other direction.  A
moment later, there was nothing but the quiet sound of the wind blowing
through the tall field grass and the occasional chirping of a bird.
   Cautiously, Hera stuck her head out and saw that the field was
empty.  She exhaled with relief and reached for her mini-comm.  But
when she touched the spot on her holster where it should have been, she
felt nothing.  She looked down and saw that it was gone.
   "Frack," she gritted her teeth in anger.  She must have dropped it
or else it had been jarred loose when she had made her impulsive leap
onto the equine's back.  Whatever the case, she was totally unable to
make contact with her brother, wherever he was now.  And she knew that
Starbuck was a prisoner of the siminoids, about to be taken to wherever
they'd come from.
   She knew she had to make her way back to her viper, but at this
point she wasn't sure if she could retrace her steps back to where
she'd landed.  She'd been forced to cover so much ground to get away
from the siminoids that it would probably take a miracle just to find
her way back.  And since the siminoids planned on sending out
reinforcements, it was probably too dangerous anyway to retrace her
steps.
   What then?
   She sat down at the base of the tree as she let out a weary sigh and
stretched her arms out.  She needed to do a lot of thinking about what
her next move was going to be.
   What would you do, Mother?  she idly asked herself.  Or you, Father? 
And what would Grandpa Cain do if he were in a spot like this?  She had
always loved hearing the stories Sheba had told her about her maternal
grandfather's legendary exploits.  About how the warrior known as the
Juggernaut always managed to find his way out of the tightest spots
imaginable in combat.
   But then again, she reflected, it was one thing to try and fight
back against an attacking armada of Cylon fighters and baseships with
smaller numbers.  This was something entirely different.  It was a
scenario where she was truly alone, and left with very little to
improvise an effective counter-move.
   Survival would have to come first.  She needed to make sure there
was food and water to subsist on for the short-term.  For all she knew
she might have to lie low for a considerable length of time before it
would be safe to try and head back.  And by that time, it was
conceivable that their failure to report would cause the Galactica to
send out a search team of their own.
   She lowered her hands and saw that the ring Apollo had given her was
still there.  The sight of it made her chuckle the grimmest chuckle of
her life.  Her father had wanted her to wear it so her grandparents
would find a way of symbolically being there at the end of the long
journey to Earth.  Now it almost seemed as though the greatest
practical joke in the history of the universe had been played on them. 

   Was this what you led us across the universe to find, Grandfather?
   Hera finally got to her feet and realized that asking questions that
couldn't be answered for now was a complete waste of time.  It was time
for her to move on.
   She checked her holster.  She still had her laser pistol, and the
micro-scanner was still in place.  It would certainly come in handy for
now.  She detached the scan device and pointed it toward the heart of
the jungle.
   A blipping sound registered again and she quickly checked the
readout.  She breathed a little easier when she saw that the readout
indicated the contacts somewhere in the distance were all humans.
   But what kind of humans?  Would there be some intelligent ones she
could communicate with?  Or were they more of those savage, primitive
looking ones that the siminoids had been hunting down?
   Knowing that those were questions that could be answered, and needed
to be answered now, she detached her laser and cautiously made her way
deeper into the thick, lush foliage.


   Far away, the daily rituals of life were going on in the community
that General Ursus and the gorillas were making their way back to. 
Here, nearly twenty thousand gorillas, chimpanzees and orangutans lived
in the stone dwellings of Ape City, obediently following the rigid laws
of the Sacred Scrolls handed down a thousand years ago by their great
Lawgiver.  The laws that had become the backbone of ape culture. 
Declaring that apes alone were the only sentient race that had been
given the gift of intelligence and rationality by God, and that they
ruled supreme over all lesser forms of life.  Particularly the hated
beast called man.  
   There were distinctions among the three classes of apes in how they
viewed men.  By far, the gorillas with their warlike instincts hated
man the most.  They saw the beast as a perpetual scavenger that stole
and plundered the food crops needed for apes, and as a result they were
the ones who always went out on the hunts to clear away the scavengers
from the fields.  Although they had orders to bring as many back alive,
they much preferred it when they were able to kill them.
   Orangutans, who constituted the entire Ruling Class of Ape
Civilization, held the same hatred and contempt for man as a scavenger
that the gorillas felt.  The only difference was that they had little
taste for killing for pleasure and sport as the gorillas did.  They
much preferred to let the gorillas do what they regarded as the dirty
work.  So long as humans stayed away and didn't encroach on Ape
territory, they were content to leave them be.  But those humans that
did encroach, could be put to use, so while the gorillas preferred to
shoot them all dead, they preferred to keep humans in cages and have
them perform any labor tasks that their irrational primitive minds were
capable of accomplishing.
   Chimpanzees were the only group of apes that had the remotest trace
of sympathy for humans.  Not that they saw them as anything that could
be potentially as great as an ape, but they did feel that treated with
compassion, the savage instincts of man could be domesticated and
tamed.  If so treated, then ultimately humans could do more for apes
than the mere slave labor tasks that the orangutans only saw them as
good for.  But they only wanted to see humans become pets, not train
them to recapture an intelligence that none of them knew had once
existed in the species long ago.
   Two chimpanzees who knew better about humans, were the psychologist
Zira, and her new husband, the archeologist Cornelius.  They alone knew
firsthand that man did have the capacity to think and reason.  All
because of their chance meeting with a man who spoke and called himself
Taylor.
   Since their return to Ape City after leaving Taylor and Nova to go
journeying up the coastline on horseback, events had moved rapidly
forward in the lives of the psychologist and archeologist.  They had
finally gone ahead with their long-delayed plans to marry and had done
so in a quick ceremony.  And then, they had to prepare themselves for a
trial before the Ruling Class Tribunal, which at Dr. Zaius's
instigation had charged them with one count each of scientific heresy.
   As they sat in the stone-backed chairs and waited for the three
orangutans who comprised the Tribunal to enter, there were different
emotions raging through the two chimpanzees.  Cornelius felt a sense of
resignation that left him prepared to accept anything the Tribunal
would sentence him to.  All his life, he'd carried within him a
perpetual instinct for trying to avoid confrontation and conflict.  It
was the reason why he was so ordinarily reserved in demeanor and so
uncomfortable taking bold steps.  He knew it was why he'd been so
reluctant for many years to ask Zira to become his wife.  And he also
knew why he had been so reluctant to even think of presenting the
evidence of what he had found in the dig inside the Forbidden Zone.
   The dig, he thought with a trace of grim irony.  That place where he
had found traces of a human civilization that dated back far earlier
than the recorded time when the Sacred Scrolls had been written by the
Lawgiver.  He'd been too terrified to think of making his findings
public.  It represented the greatest possible challenge to the codes
that Apes had lived under for countless generations.  It made a mockery
of the sacred idea in Ape religion that they alone had been chosen by
the Almighty to possess the gift of intelligence and rational thought,
and that the Ape had been created in the Almighty's image.  For if
intelligent humans had existed before intelligent apes had, the concept
didn't have any legs to stand on.
   Taylor had forced Dr. Zaius to confront the dig when he had escaped
into the Forbidden Zone with Cornelius and Zira's help.  He had forced
the Chief Scientist to see the evidence that had existed in the cave
alongside the ocean.  The tools.  The artifacts.  The human doll that
talked.
   Dr. Zaius had put up a blustering facade at first, but even he
eventually conceded that he had always known about the truth of what
man was long before Cornelius had told him about the dig.
   "The Forbidden Zone was once a Paradise," he had said with angry
defiance to Taylor, "Your breed made a wasteland of it."
   And so, the Chief Scientist had let Taylor and Nova go off on their
journey up the coastline, giving him the cryptic warning, "You may not
like what you find."  It indicated that Dr. Zaius knew of things deep
inside the Forbidden Zone that far exceeded anything Cornelius had
found in the dig.
   But as soon as Taylor and Nova had gone, the Chief Scientist had
ordered the cave destroyed.  And he had also vowed to have Cornelius
and Zira brought up on charges of heresy.  Not because he believed the
charge, but because he was determined to not let the truth about
mankind get out.  For now, Dr. Zaius's duty as Chief Defender of the
Faith exceeded his duty as the Chief Scientist and promoter of Truth
and Knowledge.  That meant convicting Cornelius and Zira of the false
charge that they had made Taylor a talking beast through corrupt,
experimental surgery on a typical mute human.  That was the only
explanation that could reassure the general ape public that there were
no such things as talking humans.
   The trial had been swift and quick, exactly as the two chimpanzees
had expected it to be.  And now, they awaited news from the Tribunal as
to their sentence.
   Cornelius glanced at his wife and could see the look of anger
boiling up inside her.  Temperamentally, his wife was the opposite of
him.  Zira possessed a sharp tongue, a quick temper and a willingness
to speak her mind whenever she felt like it, no matter how much she
risked getting herself into trouble.  In many ways, her feistiness was
why he had fallen in love with her so many years ago.  But now, he
found himself praying to the God he still believed in (even though he
no longer believed in the truth of the Sacred Scrolls that claimed to
be written in His name) that Zira would hold her tongue on this day. 
If she made any angry outbursts, it would probably mean a stiff prison
sentence and total ruination for them both.
   The door to the far right of the room opened and the three
orangutans who made up the Tribunal entered and sat down at the table
in front of the two chimpanzees.  The President of the Ape Assembly,
the nominal civil government of Ape Civilization, took his place at the
center of the table with the two other members flanking him.  He tapped
his gavel, signaling that the Tribunal was now in formal session.
   "This tribunal has weighed all of the evidence presented against the
accused and has at last reached its decision." he began in that
sonorous tone that had long ago earned him the respect of every
legislator in the Ape Assembly.
   Cornelius felt himself tense and reached under the table to squeeze
Zira's hand. 
   "The tribunal finds you, Dr. Cornelius, and you, Dr. Zira, guilty of
one charge of promoting scientific heresy," the President said
solemnly, "Please rise to await sentence."
   The two chimpanzees dutifully rose from their stone backed chairs.
   "Ordinarily, the sentence for such an offense against our Faith is
two years in prison.  However, at the request of Dr. Zaius, who brought
the indictment against you, the tribunal shall exercise the leniency
that Ape Law is so noted for."
   Zira felt herself almost biting her lower lip in an effort to avoid
making a sarcastic retort.
   "Cornelius.  Zira.  The tribunal suspends the sentence of prison
time.  Dr. Zira, because your heresy stems from your dangerous
interactions with humans, your license to study them is revoked for a
period of not less than two years.  You will continue to receive your
full salary and benefits as a psychologist, but you must now turn your
attention to another species of animal....or your own race."
   The psychologist's mouth fell open slightly in a mixture of anger
and amazement.  Cornelius felt himself fearing the worst, that his wife
would make an outburst that would immediately bring a harsher sentence
against her.  To his relief, she said nothing.
   The President then turned his gaze to Zira's new husband,
"Cornelius, you too shall receive no loss of pay and benefits as an
employee of the Ministry of Science.  However, you are forbidden from
engaging in any future archeological studies and like Zira, are
forbidden to ever speak or mention the name of the mutant being called
'Taylor' to anyone from this day forward."
   Cornelius kept his expression stoic, his bearing firm and erect.
   "Do you accept the judgment of this tribunal, and pledge on the
Sacred Scrolls that you will abide by it?"
   "I so pledge," the archeologist said with only a hint of
resignation.
   "And you, Zira?"
   Zira suppressed an urge to spit on the President, "I so pledge," she
angrily forced her words out.
   "So be it," the President rapped his gavel, "This tribunal now
stands adjourned.  You are both free to go."
   The three orangutans rose and departed, leaving the two chimpanzees
alone.
   Cornelius let out a sigh of relief, "Much less than I expected," he
said, "We should both feel grateful."
   "Grateful?" Zira bolted from her chair and threw a withering glance
at her husband, "Convicted unjustly and deprived of our livelihood, and
you feel grateful?"
   "Would you have preferred prison, Zira?" he looked up at her and
kept his tone patient, "That's not how I would have preferred to start
our new life as a married couple."
   "Always putting self-interest ahead of the truth!" she said in an
angry huff as she sat down again.
   Cornelius kept his attention on her.
   "What do you want of me, Zira?" he asked, "If you're asking me to
become an angry crusader for reform, I can't do it.  As long as there
is a Ruling Class that believes in stifling the Truth, there is little
you or I or any other chimpanzee can do.  If God willing our society is
to reform itself some day, it will have to take place because of change
from within their ranks."
   She avoided looking at him and folded her arms in defiance.
   "Your trouble Cornelius, is that you're like most chimpanzees," she
said, "Always content with your lot.  Always content to be a permanent
second-class citizen in our stratified society."
   "Fate could have picked something worse for me," he injected a tiny
edge of levity into his voice, "I could have been born a gorilla.  Even
you will concede Zira, that as chimpanzees we do occupy the
middle-class of Ape Society.  We enjoy privileges and benefits that no
gorilla will ever know."
   "Gorillas will never know what it means to think!" she spat, "And
we've seen firsthand how perpetually closed-minded orangutans will
always be!"
   Cornelius looked toward the door and then froze in horror when he
saw the orangutan who was Chief Scientist standing there.
   "Zira!" he hissed, "Dr. Zaius is here."
   The psychologist looked up and flushed with embarrassment.
   "You have a very powerful way with words, Dr. Zira," the orangutan
smiled as he made his way over to them, using his cane for support,
"It's a pity that chimpanzees can't serve in the Assembly."
   "Dr. Zaius," Cornelius got to his feet and practically stammered his
words, "My deepest apologies for Zira's conduct.  I hope that----"
   The orangutan raised his cane and smiled disarmingly, "Do not
apologize Cornelius.  All legal matters pertaining to the both of you
are done with.  In fact, were I in your position I would probably feel
the same way."  he sat down in the chair next to Zira.  "But I gave you
my word during our return from the Forbidden Zone that I would see to
it that neither of you spent a day in prison or lost a penny in wages. 
You should have been more trusting of me."
   Zira forced herself to look at the Chief Scientist, "You also gave
us your word that the contents of the cave would be revealed!"
   "Yes, yes, I know," Dr. Zaius lowered his head, "Were I a younger
ape with more faith in my fellow simian, I would have kept my word
about that.  But I am at a stage in my life where I have no desire to
be the instrument of the greatest social upheaval our civilization
would have known in untold hundreds of years."
   "You yourself said that the teachings of the Sacred Scrolls about
Man can be reconciled with the existence of an ancient human
civilization," Cornelius said, "Surely it would not be as great an
upheaval as you fear for Apes to know the truth of that."
   "I am not worried about the preservation of our religion and the
Sacred Scrolls," Dr. Zaius said, "It is the greater Unknown that I
fear.  Of what potentially lies beyond the Forbidden Zone that Taylor
and his woman now seek."
   "Do you know what lies there, Dr. Zaius?" Zira asked pointedly.
   Again, the orangutan smiled and got to his feet.
   "Come to my office in the Ministry," he said, "And to show my
penance for subjecting you to the humility of this Tribunal, I will
share with you something that no other ape has had the privilege of
seeing."
   Cornelius and Zira exchanged puzzled glances with each other as they
followed the Chief Scientist out.


   Three gorillas on horseback continued to patrol the perimeter of the
maize field, keeping a sharp eye peeled for the two strangely dressed
humans they'd been ordered to capture.
   "Anything to report?" a young gorilla captain named Quintus came up
to them.
   "Nothing sir," one of the scouts said, "We've gone over a ten mile
radius to the East and found nothing."
   "Did it occur to any of you that you might be better advised
checking the jungle regions?" there was an air of frost in Captain
Quintus's voice.  "Show some initiative!"
   "Yes sir, yes sir!"  the scout hastily saluted and turned to the
other two, "Investigate the northern forest line.  Then move on to the
southern line.  We'll fan out from there."
   Twelve feet into the southern line there was movement from a pile of
leaves.  As soon as the sounds of the equines had faded into the forest
on the opposite side of the maize field, the clump was pushed aside and
Boxey emerged at last from his hiding place.
   The Lords of Kobol be praised for camouflage survival courses, he
thought as he got to his feet.  And also for siminoids too dumb to
divide up their forces.
   He promptly dashed back toward the other side of the forest.  Back
in the direction of the field where he and Hera and Starbuck had left
their vipers.  As concerned as he was about what had happened to his
sister and the man who had been his mentor and close friend since he
was a child, the first priority was to get in touch with the Galactica
and let them know what was happening.
   As soon as he reached the exit point of the jungle perimeter, he
tripped over a vine and turned his ankle.  He let out a shout of pain
as he crashed to the ground and scraped his knee against the hard dirt
surface.
   Boxey got to his feet and calmly collected himself before moving on. 
His ankle was throbbing angrily and he realized that he could no longer
run.  Fortunately, he knew that didn't pose as much of a problem for
him as it would have had the siminoids still been pursuing him.
   At his reduced speed, it took him almost a half-centar before he
could see the outline of the vipers looming in the distance.  After all
that the Galactica warrior had been subjected to, they were the most
welcome sight he could ever recall seeing.
   He saw that his mini-comm was still on his holster.  He detached it
and activated it.
   "Hera?" he said into it, "Hera do you copy me?"
   There was a burst of static.  It indicated that her comm-line was
active somewhere.
   "Hera?" he repeated, "Hera?"
   Still nothing.
   Instantly, Boxey realized that his sister didn't have her device any
longer.  In all likelihood, she had probably dropped it somewhere.  If
true, then he couldn't dare risk using it again.  For all he knew, it
might be picked up by one of the searching siminoids.
   Stay calm, he said to himself over and over.  Stay calm.  The first
priority is making contact with the Galactica.  Nothing more.
   Even though that would mean having to tell both his father and
mother that he didn't know what had happened to Starbuck and Hera.
   They'll be fine, he tried to reassure himself.  Starbuck's been
through these kind of things more than once in his lifetime. And Hera. 
Well by God, she's so damned good that her instinct for survival is
probably even greater.  But then again, she has Cain's blood in her.  I
don't.
   As the black-haired lieutenant drew closer on his injured leg, the
vipers grew steadily more distinct.
   Boxey then stopped in his tracks and frowned.  He could have sworn
he'd seen some dark shape moving along the top of the viper that was
closest to him.  At first he thought it was just a reflection off the
open cockpit canopy.  But then, he saw it again.  It was clearly some
kind of creature moving across the top.
   "Hey!" Boxey shouted and suddenly began to run again, in spite of
the pain he felt in his leg.
   The creature looked up as soon as it heard his voice.  In an
instant, Boxey saw that it was one of the primitive humans he'd seen
roaming the field.  And in the next instance, he saw to his horror that
the human was holding several cables that he had pulled out of the
viper control panels.
   "Get out of there!" he shouted again and ran toward the craft, "Get
out of there!"
   And then, Boxey felt an intense fury overtake him as he pulled out
his laser pistol and opened fire.  It struck the human in the chest and
he fell off the craft to the ground.
   When the warrior reached the viper he wasted little time hoisting
himself up.  When he looked in, he felt his heart sink in agony when he
saw that all of the control panels and circuits had been ripped and
plucked out.  There was nothing in there that would function.
   He tried to hold out some hope that the other two vipers were still
intact, but by the time he reached them and had a chance to look
inside, he saw only more of the same.  The three sleek vipers had been
pillaged completely into worthless piles of junk by the bands of mute
humans he had earlier tried to protect.
   "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" he bellowed as he gave a savage kick
to the side of the last of the vipers, again ignoring how it
exacerbated the pain in his leg.  "Frack, felgercarb and shit!"
   He collapsed against the base of the viper and almost felt like
crying.  This was the first time in his life that he could honestly say
he felt hopelessly alone.
   What made things worse was that he knew he couldn't stay in the area
to try and look for Hera and Starbuck or wait for a rescue team from
the Galactica to come.  Sooner or later, the siminoids would extend
their search perimeter.  And the pain he felt in his ankle was now
telling him that there was no way he could run from a large number of
them.
   If he was to survive, he needed to get as far away from the
siminoids as he possibly could.  And hopefully, he might find some
intelligent people he could make contact with at last.  It was hard for
him to believe that the things he'd seen in this short period of time
represented the full extent of what there was on Earth.
   If it did, then he couldn't begin to imagine the sense of betrayal
it would produce among the people of the Fleet.  They would be forced
to confront the terrible prospect that twenty-five yahrens of sacrifice
and struggle in a flight from the Cylons that had taken them all the
way across the galaxy had all been for nothing.
   Boxey noticed a survival kit pack lying on the ground ten feet away
from him.  One of the pillaging humans had evidently tossed it out
without giving any thought to what it was.  He made his way over and
prayed that the contents were still intact.  When he opened it, he
breathed a sigh of relief.  Three days worth of protein bars, and two
full canteens of water still lined the box's interior.  Along with an
additional mini-scanner and a pair of infra-red goggles for night
vision.
   He searched about the debris on the ground for another five centons
and found an extra water canteen from one of the other viper survival
packs.  He clipped it to his holster and decided it would be the first
one he would use.  After he picked up the intact kit, he looked about
and tried to decide where he would move next.
   Far away to the East, he could see the imposing form of tall, craggy
mountains and peaks beckoning.  That was undoubtedly the desert area
they had flown over before landing.  There had been a large body of
water in that area, but no indications of many lifeforms as it did for
the jungle areas.
   It seemed foolish to think that was the direction he should go in. 
Yet something inside Boxey told him that the best plan of action was to
head toward those peaks and into the desert.  He couldn't understand
what that something was, yet he felt it just the same.
   He took a breath and gathered his strength as he began to walk
towards the foreboding, distant scene.

                    Chapter Three

   "Glad you came Boomer," Apollo smiled as his old friend entered the
Galactica's bridge.
   "Always a pleasure," the former warrior smiled back as he slowly
mounted the steps.  For many yahrens he had flown alongside Apollo and
Starbuck in so many missions, but that had all ended ten yahrens ago
when a battle injury had rendered Boomer's left arm permanently
paralyzed and useless.  And leaving him totally incapable of ever
flying a viper again.
   Unable to do the work he loved most, Boomer had opted to retire from
the Service altogether.  Becoming a Bridge Officer was something he
knew he wasn't cut out for.  And so, he had entered a new line of work
that tapped into his love of electronics, joining Dr. Wilker's staff of
scientists.
   Ten yahrens later, Wilker was dead and Boomer now ran the entire
operation (much to the distaste of Wilker's long-time assistant
Fairfax).  He had thrown himself into his new capacity with such
intensity that it had reached a point where he no longer missed being a
warrior.  Not to mention the fact that leaving the Service had made it
easier for him to finally settle down, marry Dietra and have a family.
   "What have you got?" the ex-warrior asked as he settled into the
chair on the upper level in front of Apollo's console.
   "Some new signals to compare with what you've been analyzing for the
last five sectars," Apollo said as he flicked the switch, "This is what
we believe is an Earth spacecraft our patrol encountered before they
went ahead to investigate the planet."
   "I heard about that," Boomer said, "Have they reported back yet?"
   "Not yet," Apollo shook his head, "I don't think it's anything to
worry about for now.  The way things are shaping up, we need as much
information carefully gathered as possible."
   "Let's hope it means nothing wrong," Sheba spoke up quietly, as she
stood off to one side.
   Apollo cast a quick glance at his wife and executive officer to give
her some silent reassurance and then returned his attention to the
monitor.
   "Let me ask your expert opinion, Boomer," the commander said, "Does
this resemble the spacecraft you first noticed in the gamma signals we
started to get a few sectars back?"
   Boomer frowned slightly at the contours of the spacecraft, and then
stuck several discs into the computer terminal.  An instant later, a
fuzzy broken image appeared on the adjacent monitor.  He activated the
image freeze mode and then leaned forward in his chair to look at both
monitors, using his good hand to rub his chin in contemplation.
   "Well?" Apollo asked, "Would you say we're looking at the same
spacecraft?" 
   The Electronics Scientist was silent as he continued to stare in
contemplation.  As he watched, Sheba came up alongside Apollo and they
both looked down at him with interest, waiting for Boomer to give his
assessment.
   Boomer settled back in his chair, a faint trace of incredulity on
his face, "I'd have to say that it's probably not the exact same
spacecraft but it's definitely from the same class.  You can tell that
the contours are almost the same, especially up front in the bow
areas," he glided his hand across the front of the fuzzy image on the
left, and then the clear image on the right.
   "But if you move further back on the current one," his hand
continued to move across the clear image, "It seems clear that there
are some differences.  Much bigger in the stern areas, suggesting more
space and more equipment.  But I would venture that they are close
enough to have been built within a relatively short time frame of each
other."
   Sheba noticed the expression on his face, "You look as though
there's something odd about that."
   Boomer awkward exhale, "Well ah, as a matter of fact there is."
   "What?" Apollo frowned, "Tell us."
   The ex-warrior seemed slightly embarrassed, "Commander, Colonel, I
have to level with you about something that my team didn't put in our
report when we first analyzed these gamma signals five sectars ago."
   Commander and Colonel, Sheba thought to herself.  If he's suddenly
getting formal with us, that means something's wrong.
   "What are you talking about, Boomer?" Apollo's tone took on an edge
of quiet demand.
   Boomer looked them in the eye, "Commander, I said at the time that I
couldn't make a preliminary guess on the time origin of these signals. 
Only that it was possible that we were looking at either an amplified
harmonic signal from nearby or a weak primary signal from a long way
off."
   "I know that," Apollo said, "And that if the latter were true, we'd
have to consider a signal that was...." he trailed off as he finally
added things up.
   "Something as old as a thousand yahrens ago," Sheba finished for
him.
   "Exactly," Boomer nodded, "And the reason why I didn't commit myself
was because once we learned in the next batch of signals that this
first one was connected with Earth, I didn't want to start raising
undue expectations about what kind of planet we'd find.  If Earth
possessed deep-space flight capability a thousand yaherns ago, then
simple logic would make us think that the Earth we end up finding has a
technology not dissimilar from our own."
   Apollo sat down in the chair next to Boomer's at the console.
   "Let me see if I get this straight," the commander said, "You in
fact believe that this initial signal was not an harmonic one."
   "That's right," Boomer nodded, "I believe it is intergalactic.  I
believe that it journeyed on a distant arc back towards us and the
Earth, and not away from it towards us."
   "You're sure of that," Sheba said more as statement than question.
   "I'm sure," the ex-warrior sighed, "Fairfax and Jobe concurred with
me.  And they also concurred that it was best we not emphasize that
aspect until we started getting signals that were closer and indicated
what we'd be up against with the present day Earth."
   Apollo stared at his friend with an expression that indicated he was
deeply disappointed.
   "You should have told us that, Boomer," Sheba decided to speak for
them both, "If you knew for certain that the initial signal was
intergalactic, you at least owed it to us, if not the rest of the
people."
   "I take full responsibility for that," Boomer said with regret.
   "We'll save the recriminations, if any, for another time," Apollo
tried not to show any anger, "But let's fit this information into the
context of what we know now.  Fact.  Earth had spaceflight capability a
thousand yahrens ago.  Fact.  Earth still has some kind of similar
spaceflight capability today, yet strangely enough gives off no signs
of technological development on our preliminary scans.  What does all
of that indicate?"
   Boomer took a breath, "It indicates the strangest puzzle I've ever
come across in my life, for which I have no credible answer at this
centon."
   "Colonel Sheba?" Apollo looked over at his wife, indicating that he
wanted her professional judgment.
   The executive officer lowered her head slightly as if to hide her
feelings of unease.  She then looked back and resumed her bearing,
"Boomer, can you play back the portions of the recording that confirmed
this first spacecraft was connected with Earth?"
   "Sure," the Electronics Scientist nodded, "Why?"
   "I just want to settle one lingering question about whether or not
these spacecraft are from Earth, or merely headed to Earth."  Sheba
said, "Because if the latter prospect is true, then we have to go ahead
with the primitive Earth contingency."
   "Sheba---" Apollo mildly protested, but his wife held up a hand.
   "Apollo, I think we've all been very premature in assuming that no
other outposts of humanity other than Terra exist in the known
universe.  What if these ships were just expeditionary probes from
another human civilization altogether, and that they have no connection
with the Earth as it is now?"
   Her husband looked her in the eye for a long moment and then nodded. 
"Okay Boomer, play that second tape."
   The ex-warrior pulled out the disc in the first machine and inserted
a second one.  Several microns later, another fuzzy, static-filled
image filled the screen.  It was clearly the image of a relatively
handsome human male smoking what resembled a fumarello cigar.
   "And that----report-------the Earth has-------since we left
it----While we've--------at all," the man was saying amidst a barrage
of indecipherable static that obscured half his words.
   "There, you hear that?" Boomer said as he stopped the recording and
froze the image, "Since we left Earth.  He's referring to himself and
to this particular spacecraft.  That's the transmission of an Earth
explorer, not an Earth colonist."
   Sheba looked thoughtfully at the image and nodded, "I see what you
mean," she paused and then said, "Could you play the rest of that?"
   "Sure," Boomer hit the switch and the distant voice from the past
resumed his garbled, static-filled monologue.
   "I leave----20th----regrets-------------I------Does
man----neighbor---------Does-------"
   Suddenly, the image of the human male seemed to clear up for just a
brief instant.  His face seemed to have a sad, longing quality to it.
   "I feel lonely," his final words came through equally clear.
   And then, the transmission abruptly ceased.
   There was no further comment from any of the three people gathered
on the bridge's upper level.  It was as if the forlorn quality of the
man's words had struck a chord deep inside with them.  Something that
they conceivably relate to themselves.
   Apollo rose and went over to the railing, where he looked down at
Omega, "Any word from our patrol?"
   "None sir," the veteran bridge officer shook his head.
   The commander let out a grim exhale and began to absently drum his
fingers on the railing.
   "Apollo?" he heard Sheba's voice as she came over and put a hand on
his shoulder.  "Apollo, how long do we wait before we send out another
team to look for them?"
   Her husband didn't turn around, "I don't know yet," he said, "When
there's so much we don't know about Earth at this point, there's no
telling what it is they're going through.  I might have to....." he
trailed off.
   "Have to what?" she asked.
   Apollo didn't answer at first.  He seemed to be a maze of
conflicting emotions as he leaned over the rail and called down to the
Senior Bridge Officer again, "Omega, are we still tracking the Earth
spacecraft they encountered?"
   "Affirmative."
   "Keep monitoring them.  Don't lose your fix on them."
   Sheba lifted an eyebrow, "You're thinking of contacting them?"
   "I might have to," Apollo admitted, "At this point, they're the only
definite thing about Earth we could directly contact.  If we don't hear
from our patrol soon, we might need their help if we're going to send
out another team." he then let out a sigh, "For the first time, I'm
beginning to understand what I kept putting my father through on all
those missions I was overdue from."
   Sheba tried not to bite her lip.  She had been a churning mass of
tension inside for several centars now, and the last thing she wanted
to do was allow any of it to show.
   "You know how Starbuck is," she tried to sound bright, "And as far
as our children go, we shouldn't have a thing to worry about.  After
all," she smiled, "They had the best possible teachers in you and me."
   Her husband nodded as they both collected themselves and went back
to their respective consoles on the upper level.  For now, their duties
as commander and executive officer took precedence over their feelings
as concerned parents.


   Far behind the rear echelon of the Galactica's Fleet of 204 ships, a
routine patrol of four vipers from Green Squadron was searching the
quadrant the Fleet had traversed within the last sectan.  Long ago,
Apollo had realized that the deeper the Galactica penetrated into
unknown, uncharted regions of space the less likely it became that they
would find traces of their determined enemy, the Cylon Empire lying
ahead of them.  If any danger was to come from the Cylons, it would be
because they were following their wake, and would strike from behind. 
As a result, rear guard patrols had now become just as important as
advance patrols were.  In many ways, even more so.
   "Green Leader, this is Green Three.  Completing quadrant
alpha-six-two sector scan.  Situation, all clear."
   "Copy Green Three," Captain Jolly said with customary nonchalantness
as he flicked several switches on his computer terminal that blocked
out the area Green Three had just searched on his star chart.  Only two
more quadrants remained before the patrol would be considered finished.
   And when we get back, Jolly thought to himself, a nice long,
soothing session in the Rising Star's Aquacade.  He'd been saving up
his passes for the luxury ship for a long time, so he'd be able to
enjoy their swimming facility on a day after the longest patrol session
he planned on putting in.
   In his younger days, a return from patrol would usually mean a quick
visit to the Officers Club or Mess Hall to indulge in the large
quantities of food and drink that had lent him his rotund physique. 
But now, Jolly barely resembled the person who'd taken so much needling
about his weight ever since he was a child.  As he'd gotten older, he'd
found that the best way to guarantee staying on active duty as a strike
commander was to start changing his eating and exercise habits.  And
so, he had undergone a rigorous weight-loss campaign that had succeeded
in getting him all the way down to a trim, muscular 210 after many
yahrens of hovering closer to the 300 level.
   "What are we going to have to make fun of you about anymore?"
Starbuck had quipped when his fellow-survivor of the Umbra disaster had
started his reduction campaign.  And many of his other long-time
friends like Boomer and Apollo had taken up betting pools on how many
sectans it would take before Jolly gave up on it.  But as of now, Jolly
had to their amazement stuck to it and kept the weight off.
   "Green Two to Green Leader," Sergeant Hale reported, "Am initiating
search sequence of delta two-one quadrant."
   "Okay," Jolly said as he made a notation, "That just leaves epsilon
four-one, and we'll be finished for today.  Sandlin, you get moving
over there."
   "Affirmative, Green Leader," Green Three said as his viper peeled
off in that direction.
   Two centons later, Jolly's analysis of his computer chart was
shattered by the sound of several loud blips emerging on the far left
of the screen.
   "What the---" he muttered and then quickly readjusted his system so
he could concentrate on scanning the blips.
   A micron later, his face dropped slightly when he saw that the blips
were Cylon fighters.
   "Oh great," he muttered and hit his switch, "Green Two, Green Three,
get back to my sector immediately.  We've got ourselves a Cylon patrol
to take care of."
   As Jolly activated his turbo and attack computer, he already knew
that his appointment for the Aquacade had just been canceled.


   Twenty centons later, the danger had been taken care of and Jolly
was headed back to the Galactica to make his report.
   "There were six in all.  Nothing more than a routine scout patrol,
from the looks of it," the veteran warrior radioed, "We didn't have any
trouble taking care of them, but I think it's a safe bet that their
baseships aren't too far off."
   Apollo grimly shook his head as he sat in his command chair holding
his fingertips together.
   "Okay Jolly," he sighed, "Thanks for the information."
   He switched off the transmission and warily got to his feet.
   "Of all the days for the Cylons to show themselves for the first
time in a yahren," the commander said with faint exasperation.
   "It does complicate things," Sheba admitted, "Do you think we should
have a strategy session in the Conference Chamber?"
   Her husband nodded as he headed for the stairs, "Might not be a bad
idea.  Have all the senior warriors report there in one centar."
   "Yes sir," Sheba said.
   As Apollo descended the steps to the lower level of the bridge, he
felt the inner urge to explode with fury at John and all of the
Guardians.


   A centar later, Apollo and Sheba had taken their positions at the
head of the table in the main Conference Chamber.  Strategy Sessions
always required the presence of the Fleet Commander, the Executive
Officer, and all Viper Squadron Leaders.  On this occasion though, one
chair was left empty to denote the absence of Blue Leader.
   "I think it would be an understatement for me to say that we are
facing the most important challenge we've confronted in the entire
history of our journey across the galaxy," Apollo said after he had
called the meeting to order, "The decisions we end up making at this
meeting could have the most important ramifications in the lives of
every man, woman and child in the Fleet."
   He settled back in his chair and motioned to Sheba to proceed.
   "There is no doubt among any of us that we have indeed discovered
the planet Earth," the executive officer began as she got to her feet
and pointed to the telemetry images on the central monitor, "But at
this time, we are receiving very conflicting signals as to what kind of
society we are dealing with.  Preliminary scans indicated no signs of
technology but there is nonetheless an interstellar spacecraft of Earth
origin due to land in sixteen centars on the planet."
   Sheba moved away from the monitor and her expression grew slightly
grave, "Blue Squadron patrol, under Captain Starbuck, Lieutenant Boxey
and Ensign Hera was sent ahead to make a quick survey of the planet
from the ground.  There has been no contact with them since before they
landed.  Their delay has reached a point where sending out a search
team has become imperative, but is now complicated by the fact that the
Cylons chose to make their presence known today."
   "How is it complicated, Colonel?" Captain Cree, the commander of Red
Squadron spoke up, "As far as the Cylons are concerned, we know that
they're just playing a mind game with us.  They show themselves every
so often just to remind us they're still there."
   "That's quite true Captain," Sheba said, "But today is not the day
that we can just assume that the Cylons are operating according to a
predictable pattern.  If they showed themselves today, we have to guard
against the prospect that they could come back today or tomorrow.  If
they don't within the next sectan, then we know they were playing a
mind game with us again."
   "So in effect, that means you can't send any of us out on a search
mission for Blue Group for at least a sectan?" this came from Jolly.
   "I'm afraid it does," Sheba nodded, "What's more, it means we have
to alter the Fleet's course away from the approach heading to Earth and
start going about in a random pattern.  Even though we have not
received any short-range transmissions from Earth, we can not allow the
Cylons to come within close proximity to the solar system."
   "The question then becomes, how do we proceed with the survey of
Earth, and deal with the matter of our missing warriors under these
circumstances?" Apollo looked out at the four squadron leaders. 
"Because while I am committed to following standard procedure in
dealing with the Cylons, I am not going to have us sit on our astrums
for a whole sectan on matters as grave as these are.  So start sending
up some suggestions, gentlemen."
   The four squadron commanders exchanged glances with each other as
though each was waiting for someone else in the group to go first.
   Finally, Jolly decided to speak first, "Well Commander, if you're
ruling out having any of us go, then the logical alternative is having
a shuttle with a team of non-combat pilots lead the search."
   "Exactly," Apollo nodded, "And I've already decided that we have
some people capable of doing that.  The only question remaining is, if
there are no signs of any technology on that planet, should we take a
risk making contact with that spacecraft before it lands?"
   His words hung in the air, as again there seemed to be a reluctance
among the squadron commanders to speak first.
   Finally, Captain Pliny of Silver Spar decided to do it.  He was the
only squadron leader who had not been an active warrior at the time of
the Holocaust, and represented part of the emerging younger generation
of the warrior class.  "Commander, my recommendation is that we do make
contact.  If we're going to be effective in searching for Blue Patrol,
I think we have to make contact with some people who'd be inclined to
believe us and help us.  It might not be that easy finding people who'd
help us once our team was on the ground."
   "The crew of that spacecraft is still in hibernation, Pliny," Apollo
pointed out, "To make contact with them means potentially disrupting
their programmed mission and bringing harm to them."
   "Then the way to avoid that is to stay alongside them until they
land, and wait for them to come out," Pliny held his ground.
   "Commander, I think it's an absolute imperative that we make contact
with some Earth people right away.  The way things are shaping up now,
the one thing we don't have time for is a lengthy analysis trying to
figure out who the best targets are on Earth for us to contact."
   Apollo inwardly smiled, glad to see that a warrior who had not
served alongside him, had not been afraid to speak his mind.
   "Well said, Captain Pliny," the commander said, "Do the rest of you
think that's the best option for us?"
   "I think so," Jolly said, "Of course, I naturally wish that I could
go myself since we are talking about people like Starbuck, Hera and
Boxey."
   "I think the team I have in mind for this assignment will be more
than capable."


   After dismissing the squadron commanders, Apollo and Sheba had
assembled a new group in the Conference Chamber.  The four people
consisted of the Galactica's senior shuttle flight instructor, a
med-tech, and two warriors attached to Colonial Security, which handled
all matters of military security within the Fleet.
   Apollo had received glowing reports for many sectars about the two
security guards, Lieutenant Ares and Sergeant Bernabe from Captain
Castor, the long-time Security Chief, as to their toughness and quick
precision.  That was exactly the kind of warrior Apollo wanted for a
mission like this.
   The med-tech was Lycus, the senior most member of the Galactica's
Medical Staff Corps.  Assigning a med-tech for a mission such as this
was standard operating procedure, and like the two security guards,
Apollo had received plenty of outstanding reports on his competence.
   Picking the leader for the expedition had not been as easy.
Especially in light of the personal anguish he already faced over the
disappearance of his two children and best friend.  But there was no
escaping the fact that Athena was by far, the best qualified person for
the job.  She had more experience than anyone else as a shuttle pilot,
and also had her share of combat experience as a reserve viper pilot. 
And her many yahrens on the Bridge had also taught her a great deal
about command level decisions, which were desperately needed for an
assignment such as this.
   Apollo had come very close to making Athena the Galactica's new
executive officer after Colonel Tigh had retired four yahrens ago due
to ill health, which eventually took his life one yahren afterwards. 
It had come down to the awkward dilemma of choosing between his sister
and his wife as the most qualified candidates.  To his relief, Athena
had made the decision easy for him by taking herself out of the
running.  His sister knew that Sheba held the edge as a combat veteran
and combat tactician.  Instead, she had accepted a new assignment away
from the Galactica as deputy commander of the Warrior Training School,
where she specialized in training new warriors to fly shuttles.  It
turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her.  Away
from the Galactica, she'd finally been able to branch out in her life
in ways that she hadn't for almost twenty yahrens, ever since the
unpleasant end of her relationship with Starbuck.  She had finally
opened herself up to new friends, and had even begun a serious romance
with the captain of the Training School Ship, an ex-viper pilot named
Amos.  Rumor had it that marriage was not an unlikely prospect some
day.  Apollo sincerely hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
   None of that was on his mind now though, as he and Sheba briefed the
four of them on the situation.
   "That sums it up as best as I can," the commander said, "As
concerned as we all are about what's happened to our warriors, your
first responsibility is gathering data on Earth.  We need that
information if we're going to be able to put a contingency plan into
effect."
   He and Sheba both rose from their chairs, indicating that the
briefing was nearly over.
   "Major Athena, you are in overall command of this mission.  Use your
best judgment, and may the Lords of Kobol be with you all."
   Athena got to her feet, and with the most professional look her
brother could ever recall seeing on her face, said, "We intend to
succeed, Commander."
   "I have every confidence in you," he smiled, "All of you report to
the launching bay immediately."
   The two security guards and the med-tech were first to depart. 
Apollo prepared to follow Sheba out, but then saw that Athena was
remaining in the room, as though there was something she wanted to say
to her brother in private.
   "Is there anything else?" he asked.
   "There is," Athena folded her arms, "I want Lycus replaced."
   Apollo lifted an eyebrow, "What?"
   "I said I don't want Lycus on this team," she said.
   "Why not?" Apollo didn't understand why she sounded so determined on
this point.
   "Because there's someone else who deserves to go instead," she said
firmly, "And that's Cassiopeia."
   Her brother's dubious expression increased, "Athena, Cassiopeia is
the Chief Medical Officer.  I can't spare her."
   "And she's also Starbuck's ex-wife," Athena said pointedly, "When
she finds out he's missing, she's going to have a tough enough time as
it is sticking to her regular duties.  If she goes with us, then she at
least can be on top of the search." she paused, "And besides, she's had
experience with these kinds of missions before.  Lycus hasn't."
   "Athena---"
   "Don't argue with me, Apollo," she said, "I've deferred to you quite
a few times in my life over the yahrens.  If you want me to command
this mission, I want the person I think is best for the job.  That's
Cassiopeia.  If she's involved in the search for Starbuck, her mind is
going to be a lot more at ease than it would be if she were here on the
Galactica."
   Apollo shook his head in faint exasperation, "All right, all right,"
he said, "Take whoever you want.  But if she refuses to go, then don't
force her."
   "Fair enough," Athena nodded, "I'll notify you when we're ready for
launch."
   When she had gone, Apollo shook his head in both amazement and
admiration.
   That's the new Athena all right, he thought.  She may still end up
commanding this ship yet.
   Starbuck, Hera, Boxey, Athena, Cassiopeia.  It now occurred to him
that just about every important person in his life other than Sheba was
now involved with this entire puzzle surrounding the discovery of
Earth.  And with it, were risks that potentially put all of their lives
in danger.
   Lord help them all, he thought as he finally exited the Conference
Chamber and headed back to the bridge.

    
   There were times when Lucifer cursed the fact that as an IL Cylon,
he possessed a second computer brain that enabled him to experience
many of the feelings and sensations human beings knew.  Chief among
them, was the feeling of boredom.  Single-brained centurions were
totally incapable of knowing boredom since they were just programmed to
do their jobs with robotic, mindless efficiency.  Their circuits could
not be bothered by the prospect of spending many long yahrens sitting
at duty stations while nothing happened.  Not so with Lucifer.  For
what had seemed like an eternity to him, his second brain was raging
over the sense of total atrophy that had set in.
   He could have looked upon the events of today as a welcome diversion
from the routine stagnation that filled his life, but as far as Lucifer
was concerned it was simply part of the same old pattern where nothing
meaningful was accomplished.
   And now, he was about to perform the chore that for twenty-five
yahrens he had detested above all others.
   "By your command."
   The throne chair turned around and Baltar looked down at him with a
thoroughly neutral and indifferent expression, "Speak."
   If the infamous human traitor were still a normal human who went
through the aging process, the sight of him growing older with each
passing yahren would have been an entertaining diversion to the IL
Cylon.  No longer.  In the twenty yahrens since Baltar's rescue from
the isolated planet Adama had set him free on, the one-time Count from
Piscera had become more Cylon than human.  So obsessed was Baltar with
living to achieve the goal of one day destroying the Galactica, that he
had gradually replaced numerous parts of his body with cybernetic
counterparts in an effort to conceivably prolong his life for hundreds
of yahrens.  He was prepared to wait that long if it meant that he
alone, could know the glory of destroying the last traces of human
civilization that had fled the Colonies following the Destruction that
he himself had been partly responsible for.  And with that, he wanted
also to destroy the last remaining human colony.  The Thirteenth tribe
of humanity on the planet Earth that Adama had been seeking all these
yahrens.
   There was once a time when Baltar thought that Earth was but a mere
fable invented long ago by drunken space travelers who had come back to
die on the mother planet Kobol.  Not so any longer. 
   During the yahren when he had been Adama's prisoner aboard the
Fleet's Prison Barge, he had heard all kinds of talk that made him
realize there had to be a basis for its existence.  Especially when he
saw the Fleet encounter another outpost of humanity based in some
planet called Terra.
   Once Baltar had convinced himself that Earth indeed did exist, a
raging desire to destroy that lost colony had filled what was left of
his twisted mind and soul.  For he saw Earth and Adama's obsession with
finding it as the reason why he had been forced to become a permanent
outcast from his own race.
   When Baltar realized that his betrayal of humanity at the phony
Peace Conference he had engineered had not resulted in the Imperious
Leader sparing his own colony of Piscera, he had vowed to find some way
of getting back in favor with his own race and launching a
counterstrike against the Cylon Empire to make them pay for their
double-cross.  That opportunity had come for him in a darkened tomb of
the Ninth Lord of Kobol where Adama had come to find information on
where Earth's position lay.  Baltar had presented his offer of taking
advantage of the dispersal of the Cylon Fleet to strike back against
the undefended home planet.  He had even made a gesture of goodwill in
having Lieutenant Starbuck released from captivity aboard his baseship.
   But to Baltar's shock and bewilderment, Adama had rejected the
offer.  Having served alongside Baltar in the Council of Twelve, and
having seen firsthand the fruits of Baltar's betrayal, he refused to
ever trust him again.  Instead, Baltar saw a man obsessed with only one
thing.  Finding the lost thirteenth tribe of humanity that had settled
on the distant blue planet Earth.
   Baltar had never anticipated such a cold rejection, especially for a
reason that he saw as utterly frivolous and trivial.  He had tried to
argue with Adama, but the Galactica commander would not listen.  All of
Baltar's appeals to what he thought was sensible reason went unheeded. 
Adama's son Captain Apollo seemed willing to hear Baltar out at one
point, but the intense passion of Adama's desire to seek out Earth
overruled any other considerations.
   And then, all of Baltar's plans went awry forever when Lucifer had
taken matters into his own hands by launching an attack on the
Galactica base camp on Kobol that had trapped Baltar inside the
wreckage of the tomb.  During the long centars that he'd laid there in
that dark, crumbling crypt, what was left of his own humanity vanished
forever.  The cold realization that he would never be able to make
amends for the sin of aiding the Cylons in the destruction of the
Colonies.  Never able to make the Cylons pay for their double-cross in
destroying his colony.  His people.  His family.  His wife Ayesha, who
had fueled his drive for power and who he'd planned on making his queen
in a puppet colony under his total control.
   If he was to survive, he had to become genuinely committed to the
Cylon goal of destroying humanity.  He knew he had become evil in every
sense of the word, and he hated Adama and his obsession with Earth
above all other things for forcing him into that position.
   And so, here he was twenty-five yahrens later, determined to live
long enough that he might be able to destroy the twin instruments of
his Fate.  And because he would not settle for anything short of
destroying the Fleet and Earth, he had no intention of rushing too soon
with the destruction of the former.
   And that was why Lucifer's impatience and boredom mounted with each
passing day.
   "I have news to report that is not good," Lucifer said, "Our scout
patrol was destroyed by a similar one from the Galactica."
   Baltar let out that wicked laugh of his that always increased the IL
Cylon's dislike of him, "My dear Lucifer, there is nothing to be so
long about.  The loss of one tiny patrol is hardly anything to be
concerned with.  What is important is that we have once again given the
Galactica a reminder that we are still out there.  And that is all we
need to do every nine sectars to a yahren.  Just remind them that we
are there, pursuing them constantly just beyond range for as long as
they continue to seek their worthless refuge on the planet they call
'Earth.'"
   "Baltar, it would perhaps be futile of me to point out once
again----"
   "Any recommendation you make is always futile, my dear Lucifer,"
Baltar taunted.  He relished the fact that the roles were completely
reversed from what they'd been yahrens ago when it had been Lucifer who
would frequently puncture his ego with constant asides and putdowns. 
He knew that there was a part of Lucifer's circuitry that had never
recovered from the shock of seeing Baltar rescued and returned to power
twenty yahrens earlier.  It had brought an immediate demotion for the
IL Cylon, which rankled him beyond measure.  For Lucifer had always
wanted Baltar out of the way so he might have his own command, and be
in position to one day become the Imperious Leader himself.  Now, that
dream had been snatched from him, and with Baltar's gradual
transformation into a half-human, half-Cylon cyborg, Lucifer had to
face the fact that his status as a subordinate would conceivably last
an eternity.
   "Baltar, we have the capacity to destroy the Colonial Fleet right
now," Lucifer pressed on, "The longer we trail them into the depths of
space, so far from our home planet and so far from the outposts of our
Empire, the more wasteful this pursuit becomes."
   "Our pursuit will continue until the Galactica finds the planet
Earth, and not before," the traitor's tone was matter-of-fact, "The
edict of the Imperious Leader is that Cylon dominion will not be secure
until all traces of the human race are exterminated.  That edict
therefore includes the lost human colony.  And the only ones who can
lead us to Earth, are the pitiful scum we now pursue."
   He then smirked at the IL Cylon, "But you've heard me say that
before, haven't you Lucifer?"
   All too often, Lucifer said to himself with disgust.
   "At any rate, the patrol's discovery of Colonial vipers gives us
fresher information on the Galactica's most recent movements," the
traitor went on, "Have our course plot adjusted accordingly."
   "By your command," Lucifer didn't even bother to conceal the sarcasm
as he turned and departed.  He knew that Baltar was past the point of
being infuriated by it.
   As the chamber doors closed, Baltar let out a satisfied laugh and
resumed his posture of intense contemplation.
   He knew that the man he hated most, Adama, was in all likelihood
dead by this point.  But he had every intention of defeating him in
death by destroying his legacy and his dream.  And he was prepared to
wait for that opportunity even if it meant replacing every part of his
body to insure that he'd be around for when that moment finally came.

                    Chapter Four

   The anger and bitterness inside Zira had quickly been replaced by
puzzlement as she and Cornelius followed Dr. Zaius out of the Tribunal
Room to the Chief Scientist's office, located at the other end of the
building.  Wondering what it was the elderly orangutan had meant by
promising to reveal something that no other ape had seen before.
   When they entered the medium-sized room, Dr. Zaius quickly turned to
Cornelius and gave the archeologist a firm command, "Close the door. 
It is imperative that no one hear us."
   Cornelius went over and pushed the six-inch thick wooded door shut.
   "The barrier too," Dr. Zaius said with the same firmness, "I don't
want sudden interruptions either."
   The chimpanzee's frown deepened as he slid the heavy wooden bolt
across the main frame of the door and pushed it into place.  The three
of them were now completely locked in.
   "What I am about to do, constitutes a violation of the oath I took
when I became Chief Defender of the Faith, thirty years ago," Zaius
went over to the far corner of the room, near his desk, where a
medium-sized bulge in the building's rock foundation protruded.  But to
the amazement of the two chimpanzees, the Chief Scientist knelt down
and pushed it aside revealing it to be a medium-sized boulder that
concealed a recessed area in the wall.  Zaius then pulled out a key
from his tunic and inserted it inside.
   Some kind of vault, Cornelius realized.  But to conceal what?
   As soon as they heard the clicks of the locks coming undone, the
Chief Scientist then pulled out more than a dozen scrolls and
parchments which he then deposited on his desk.
   "Behold," he said as he sat down in his chair, "The Unknown Scrolls. 
Testimonies of the Lawgiver that were never meant to be seen by any ape
other than the Chief Defenders of the Faith.  On the day that a new
Defender ascends, he reads them once and then returns them to their
sealed place."
   Zira's eyes bulged in amazement, as did those of her husband.
   "What do they say?" the psychologist asked.
   The elderly orangutan smiled wryly, "Much.  A good deal in fact,
about Man and what he really is."
   Cornelius's hairy brow furrowed, "They tell everything about the
civilization in the Forbidden Zone."
   "Quite true, Cornelius," Dr. Zaius nodded, "They tell of how that
civilization came to be, and how it fell.  How Man's barbarism made
what had been a Paradise into a wasteland.  And why God in His anger,
turned His back on Man and gave dominion over this planet to us, the
Apes.  All of this the Lawgiver knew and wrote about."
   "But why conceal these Scrolls from our people?" Cornelius
protested, "Surely it is knowledge that we can prosper from.  A
reminder of how we must never repeat the same mistakes Man made in our
own civilization!"
   "We are not ready for that, Cornelius," the Chief Scientist looked
him in the eye, "Not unless you desire seeing our society plunged into
a foolish, costly war of conquest."
   "What do you mean?" all of Zira's anger was gone now.  Bewilderment
raged through her mind at how Dr. Zaius had completely dropped the
facade he had put on all throughout Taylor's captivity.
   Zaius folded his hands together and let out a grim chuckle, "If
there is surely one thing that chimpanzees and orangutans can agree on,
it is that our brothers the gorillas are vastly inferior to us in terms
of intelligence, and are driven chiefly by their brute instincts for
sport and violence.  Nowhere is there a finer example of that in
General Ursus."
   "Quite true," Zira nodded her head vigorously.  "The things that
gorillas do to humans.  Shooting them, whipping them and abusing them
as experiments in military training exercises.  All so they can be
given the vanities of military titles and decorations.  It's
revolting!"
   "But it keeps them productive."  Dr. Zaius said, "And being prepared
for war is the only productive function a gorilla has.  Try to pacify
them by taking their toys away, and you only ask for trouble."
   He then leaned forward, "But if a situation arose where war became
likely, who would suddenly be in a position to usurp control of our
society?  The gorillas.  The stratified order would be turned
completely upside-down and they would dictate control over what the
energies of Ape Civilization should be devoted towards.  And it would
soon overtake us all.  Surely you do not desire to see such a fate
befall us."
   "Certainly not!" Zira said, feeling glad that Zaius was allowing her
to express some anger over a subject they could both agree on.
   "Then maybe now you will understand why I and my predecessors have
kept the Unknown Scrolls hidden.  And maybe now you will understand why
I acted as I did with regard to Taylor."
   Cornelius was frowning, "I'm afraid I don't understand, Dr. Zaius."
   "You don't?" the Chief Scientist was slightly amazed.  "You
disappoint me, Cornelius.  I have given you and your wife information
that makes it abundantly clear that I am not as corrupt as you've
thought me."
   "Forgive us both, if we are not impressed!" for the first time, the
anger with Dr. Zaius had returned to Zira's voice.
   Dr. Zaius calmly gathered the scrolls on his desk and returned them
to the recessed vault in the wall.  Once they were in place, he locked
it and pushed the boulder back into place.
   "If a great human civilization once existed before the time of the
Lawgiver, then the existence of Taylor means that there are others like
him as well, today," the Chief Scientist drew himself up to an erect
bearing.  "And if I were forced to tell our people the truth about Man
and that Taylor is not some scientific freak but a descendant of that
destroyed civilization, then what do you suppose the gorillas would
then have us do?"
   A slow dawning of understanding came over the male chimpanzee's
face.
   "Yes," Cornelius slowly nodded, "Yes, I'm beginning to understand
what you mean, Dr. Zaius.  I don't agree with your reasoning, but I
understand it."
   Zira gave her husband a bewildered glance, "You understand?
Cornelius----"
   "Silence," the archeologist held up a hand, not wanting to hear her
protests any longer, "Very well Dr. Zaius, you have explained things
openly to us, and I suppose that's more than we could have expected. 
I'm willing to consider this matter closed."
   "I'm glad of that," the orangutan smiled, "Zira, you'd be
well-advised to listen to your husband's counsel as often as you can."
   Zira wrinkled her muzzle at him in disgust but managed to hold her
tongue.
   When the two chimpanzees had finally departed, the Chief Scientist
leaned back in his chair and let out a thoroughly satisfied grunt.
   For now, he was convinced that he had safely avoided a potential
catastrophe for Ape Civilization, and that all things could resume to
the state of normalcy that had existed before the emergence of Taylor.
   And God willing, he'd never see Taylor's kind again.


   Starbuck had no idea how long he had known the blackness of
unconsciousness.  He could recall being dragged across the maize field
caught in the net the two siminoids had thrown over him, and then his
head had banged against a rock in the field.  And then there was
nothing at all.
   But now, the blackness was slowly lifting and the first sensation he
knew was the intense pain.  His head was pounding massively from what
he knew was a concussion.  He could also feel the searing pain of the
two wounds in his right shoulder from the numo shots.
   He could tell he was still trapped inside the net as his body was
scrunched up in an awkward, tangled position that brushed against the
thick rope barriers.  He could also tell that he was being moved as he
felt the sensation of lying on some kind of trailer device.
   ".....But when Dr. Zaius sees what we have, he'll have a lot of
explaining to do!" he could hear an angry voice coming from somewhere
ahead of him.  "He said that bright-eyed one who went on a rampage in
the city was just a corrupted scientific experiment.  But he can't
explain this one and his two missing friends as some corrupted
experiment."
   Trying to block the agony of the pain searing through his body from
his mind, Starbuck pieced together the meaning of what the voice had
said.  It could only mean that wherever Hera and Boxey were, they
hadn't been captured.
   And if he hadn't been such a damned fool and tried to act like a
bold hero with all those siminoids charging down on him, maybe he would
have been lucky too.  Now here he was, being dragged into captivity by
the most repulsive kind of creature he could imagine, other than a
Cylon.
   Cassie, you were right, he thought to himself.  I am too old for
this line of work.  No wonder you divorced me.
   It had taken five yahrens for Starbuck to summon the courage to ask
Cassiopeia to become his wife.  Seeing the happiness Apollo and Sheba
were going through as a married couple had finally rubbed off on him to
the point where he wanted to experience that same happiness for
himself.  And for the first ten yahrens of their marriage, there had
been nothing but happiness for Starbuck and Cassiopeia.
   But then the quarreling had began.  It had started over whether or
not they would have any children.  Cassiopeia was willing to do so,
only if Starbuck took himself off active duty because she didn't want
to run the risk of seeing a child of theirs grow up without a father. 
And that was something Starbuck had no intention of doing.
   Over time, it had become clear to Starbuck that the tolerance
Cassiopeia had shown for his eccentricities as a warrior when they had
merely been lovers, had virtually disappeared now that they were
married.  From her perspective, Starbuck needed to show more
responsibility in his life if she was going to make the sacrifice of
giving up her own career in the Medical Corps to raise a family.  And
as far as Cassiopeia was concerned, Starbuck showed no signs of willing
to do that.
   Finally, five yahrens ago the marriage that had started out with so
much hope and joy for Starbuck and Cassiopeia came to an end, with a
formal dissolution.  The two of them had both known for a long time
that there was no point in continuing but had waited until after the
death of Commander Adama, since they had not wanted to place a burden
of pain on him while he lay on his deathbed.
   For two yahrens, they had no contact with each other.  Only in the
last yahren, had they finally gotten around to speaking to each other
again on official matters with no difficulty.  Time at least, was
beginning to heal the old wounds and Starbuck held out hope that the
two of them would eventually become friends again.
   But whether he was going to have any more time to do that, was fast
becoming an open question.
   He finally managed to open his eyes, and through the prison of the
net could see that he was lying inside the back of a trailer.  Steel
bars at the rear indicated that it was used as a cage.  The way it
moved over the dirt surface indicated that it was being pulled by at
least two equines.
   "What do you suppose those fire guns are?" another voice spoke. 
"I've never seen anything like them before."
   "We'll figure them out soon enough," the gruff voice said, "We
already know that they're no good against superior forces at least."
   Wait until they send in a whole rescue team to take you fracking
snitrods out, Starbuck gritted his teeth.  You'll be sorry then. 
   For now, he couldn't think of any other way that he was going to get
himself out of this situation.  He was badly wounded and on his way to
some kind of jail cell.  At this point, it would be a virtual miracle
if his wounds were treated, let alone seeing himself rescued.
   Just like Atilla, he thought.  Only this time, he didn't know if
Earth possessed any counterparts to Kyle and Miri sweeping down to
rescue and heal him.
   And then, the horrifying reminder that he was on the planet that had
been the object of all his people's hopes and dreams for twenty five
yahrens hit him with the force of all the pain in his body.  And that
only served to magnify the sense of helplessness going through him.
   One thing at a time, he chided himself.  First thing is to get
yourself through this ordeal and then worry about Earth later.
   He could hear a fair amount of talking, grunting and shouting as the
trailer continued bumping over the uneven dirt road.  Starbuck managed
to crawl his way over to the back of the vehicle and could see the area
they were now passing.  His mouth fell open in horror when he saw what
looked like a military training camp.  Dozens of gorillas were busily
at work conducting combat exercises.  And all of them were using live
humans for target practice.
   A fracking nightmare, he thought.  An absolute fracking nightmare.
   To his relief, the trailer did not stop at the facility but
proceeded on.  Starbuck could now see them passing numerous siminoids
standing and walking along the road.  He could tell that most of these
were not of the gorilla class, but belonged to the more docile group
called chimpanzees.  Even so, he found them only slightly less ugly
than his captors.  As far as he was concerned, all siminoids were
fundamentally alike in terms of their brutal nature.
   He could now see the stone buildings of what looked like a primitive
city.  Far more primitive than the most ancient archeological sites
Starbuck could remember visiting in the Colonies.  There was no sense
of architecture or artistic design at all in any of the buildings.  It
seemed more like the buildings had been crudely carved out of ancient
rock formations that had existed in the community in a haphazard,
rounded fashion.
   Finally, the trailer came to a stop.  Starbuck forced himself into a
sitting position and waited for the driver to come round and unlock the
door.
   Several centons went by and no one came.  The grizzled warrior now
felt his pain being superseded by his impatience.  The sooner he got a
handle of what these siminoids planned to do with him, the better.
   He noticed two siminoids approaching the back end, peering inside at
him in amazement.  He couldn't tell whether they were chimpanzees or
gorillas at this point.  All he became aware of was the sensation of
his concussion intensifying.  His head was slowly starting to spin
again.
   "Look at that, Zola," one of them, a female, was saying, "Have you
ever seen an uglier human than that one?"
   "Sure dresses funny," the other one, clearly male, noted.
   He wanted to crawl forward and make a typically Starbuckian comment
to the siminoids, full of sarcasm and cockiness.  But he was fast
losing the fight to stay conscious.  Even so, he managed to inch his
forward until his face was right up against the bars, a mere foot away
from the curious siminoids on the other side.
   He opened his mouth and prepared to make his retort, but before he
had formed the first syllable, he'd collapsed into the blackness of
unconsciousness again.
   "Did you see that?" the male chimpanzee called Zola said, "It almost
looked like he was ready to talk."
   "Oh really dear, you must be imagining things," his wife laughed,
"You know that humans can't talk."
   "You're right," he laughed as they walked away, "I've probably been
working too hard."


   The beeping sound on Hera's micro-scanner grew louder as she went
deeper and deeper into the jungle.  She knew that the human contacts
she'd pinpointed were only mere metrones away, just through the next
barrier of foliage.
   She could hear the sounds of water rushing from the same area, and
felt a reminder of how thirsty she had become after her hurried flight
from the siminoids pursuit.  It caused her to quicken her step as she
shut off her scanner and drew out her laser pistol again.
   When Hera emerged on the other side of the foliage she saw a large
waterfall flowing from a tall green hill into a medium-sized lagoon. 
And in the water and along the banks were a large multitude of the
primitive humans.
   Frack, she thought.  Just more of those primitives.  A veritable
colony of them.
   Right away, she saw the eyes of several primitives lock on to her. 
What Hera saw right away was how frightened they seemed of her.  Two
females promptly treaded backwards in the water away from her.  The
thickly bearded males were glaring at her.
   "Uh, look," Hera said gently as she placed her pistol back in the
holster, "I don't mean you any harm.  I want to help you, if you could
just help me?"
   No sooner had Hera opened her mouth when a perceptible stir went up
among the primitives.  No sound came from their mouths, yet their
movements had the same signs Hera would have expected to see had she
heard a large rumbling sound emit from them.  As if it were some signal
for organizing together against an enemy.
   I think I just overstayed my welcome, the Galactica warrior thought
as she uneasily took a step back into the jungle.
   She had gone only ten feet when she heard the sounds of splashing,
followed by feet moving and brushing against the trees and bushes. 
Right away, she knew that some of the primitives had chosen to follow
her.
   Hera quickened her pace as she heard the rustling noise behind her
intensify.  After another centon, it finally reached a point where she
knew she had to take some action herself.   
   She stopped in her tracks, turned around and opened fire on the
approaching group of primitives, making sure that the setting remained
on heavy stun.  Several of them collapsed to the ground while the rest
began to wildly scatter about, frightened by the sudden red streak of
fire.  For now at least, they were no longer pursuing her.
   Hera slowly exhaled and caught her breath.  As much as she found the
idea of shooting at human beings distasteful, she knew she'd been left
with no alternative at this point.  Exchanging pursuit from the
siminoids for pursuit from the primitives amounted to absolutely
nothing.
   She made her way closer to the forest periphery that led back the
field.  She was still twenty feet short of it when she heard the
unmistakable sound of approaching equines.
   Frack, felgercarb and shit.
   Once again, she had to duck behind a tree to avoid being seen from
the field.  Once again, she had to go absolutely motionless to avoid
attracting the attention of the siminoid scouts.
   "We'll take the perimeter on the right, first," she heard one of
them say, "Then we'll check the left perimeter."
   That meant she was okay for now.  The siminoids were going to be
inspecting the forest on the opposite side of the field first.
   "A lot of humans congregate in this area, sir," another voice spoke,
"Will it be easy finding the one we want?  You know how all humans look
alike."
   "You heard General Ursus's report," the first one said, "The ones we
want dress like apes instead of humans.  They'll stick out like an
orangutan would in our ranks.  Now keep searching."
   She then heard the equines hoofbeats start up and slowly fade as
they moved away from her.
   The conversation she'd overheard had told her a lot.  And now, she
could form some definite ideas on what to do next.
   She began moving back towards the waterfall region.  This time, she
wanted to see if one primitive would emerge.  Specifically, one female.
   She could hear the rustling sounds and splashing indicating that
they were nearby.  Her eyes raced back and forth across every potential
spot where one of them might emerge.
   Suddenly, Hera felt something brush against her shoulder from
behind.  She spun around and found herself face to face with a six-foot
tall male primitive.  His black eyes were dead, lifeless orbs that
reminded Hera of the artificial eyes of the mechanical daggit Muffit
that she had once played with as a child.  His face was streaked with
dirt and mud, his long hair and beard thick and unkempt.  No sound came
from him, but there was a hostile glare in his expression that
immediately told Hera she had to act quickly.
   The Galactica warrior then summoned all of her hand-to-hand combat
training to the forefront.  In the blink of an eye, she drove her right
elbow into the primitive's solar plexus.  The primitive staggered
forward, bent at the waist and gasping for breath.  It astounded Hera
that he didn't even scream in pain.  She managed to step in back of him
and then slammed both her hands into the square of his back which
knocked him to the ground into total unconsciousness.
   No sooner had Hera finished him off then she heard more crashing
through the foliage.  This time, she saw a mud-smeared female with
brown hair that hung all the way to her waist emerge, her eyes darting
about in confusion.  As soon as she saw her, the blonde warrior
realized that this was the time to put her plan into effect.  Hera
moved off to the side so that she was parallel to the female.  If her
plan was going to work then she had to make absolutely certain that the
female didn't see her when she made her move.  If she did, then Hera
would have to guard against the possibility of being recognized later
on.
   She knew she could have solved that dilemma by killing the
primitive, but the idea of killing a human under any circumstances,
even one that acted more like an animal than human, was too repulsive a
thought for her to consider.  Her oath as a Colonial Warrior was to
protect the human race, and she had no intention of dishonoring that
oath, ever.
   And so, she kept herself hidden behind the tree, making certain that
the female was looking away from her.  And then, double-checking to
make sure the stun setting was still on, she opened fire and the
primitive fell to the ground.
   Hera dashed over to where she lay and wasted little time removing
the skimpy breast and loin coverings on the female's body.  They felt
like they'd been made from a combination of animal skins and tree-bark
material.  She held them up and wrinkled her nose when she realized
that they weren't in a particularly clean condition. 
   She knew it was going to be a degrading experience, but the only way
she could avoid being captured by the siminoids and to avoid being
attacked by the primitives was to turn herself into a primitive for
now.  In her uniform, she stood out like a beacon and would never get
any opportunity to get close to wherever it was that Starbuck was being
held prisoner now.  As one amongst the scores of primitives, she at
least had a chance, though she'd already seen firsthand how the
siminoids took pleasure in hunting them down.
   No matter, she thought as she threw off her jacket and quickly shed
the rest of her clothes.  For now, the siminoids were more concerned
with finding a human who dressed strangely and carried a powerful
weapon.  They wouldn't be as concerned with their usual hunting
activities for now.
   Hera donned the skimpy garments and immediately felt a wave of
self-consciousness hit her.  The only females she'd ever known to dress
as scantily as she was now, were the performers in the Skorpian dance
troupes that frequently played to packed audiences of men in the Rising
Star's Astral Lounge.
   Well, she thought with resignation as she neatly folded her uniform
into a pile, at least now I know what the guys feel like when they wear
those thongs on the triad court for the first time.  And then she
couldn't help but smirk as she realized that there were at least two
warriors she'd once dated who would have given their life's salaries to
see her dressed as she was now.
   Only in your dreams, fellows, she said to herself as she stuffed her
clothes into a small recessed crevice inside one of the trees. 
Hopefully they'd remain safely hidden here, so she could retrieve them
later.
   Reluctantly, Hera placed her holster containing her laser pistol and
scanner underneath the pile as well.  As much as she wanted to keep it
with her, she knew it wouldn't help her at all for now.  She'd have to
try and steal one of the siminoids' numos later on.
   The only thing she refused to part with was the ring.  To take it
off at this point would have been the supreme dishonor to her family. 
Instead, she smeared some dirt over her hands, hoping it would stay
concealed from view for now.  And then, to give herself a more
primitive appearance, she smeared some more dirt on her face, arms and
legs, and then mussed up her hair so it would appear disheveled.
   When she was done, she began to cautiously make her way back toward
the waterfall area, where most of the primitives were still gathered. 
She would have preferred to go immediately back toward the region she'd
escaped from, but her thirst was so great that she needed to refresh
herself first before she'd feel ready.
   She reached the edge of the perimeter that led to the waterfall and
lagoon.  When she emerged, she could see at least a dozen humans still
gathered in and around the water.  Several of them looked up when they
heard her enter, but as soon as they saw her they almost immediately
went back to what it was they'd been doing, whether it was thrashing
about in the lagoon or nibbling on a piece of fruit that had been
foraged.  None of them seemed to give her a second thought.
   Right away, Hera realized that none of the primitives had a
knowledge for faces, or else they might have recognized the person who
had frightened them mere centons ago.  Or if they did recognize her
face, they took no notice because she now looked like one of them.  She
strongly suspected the latter.  Before, they had seen someone dressed
in clothing that superficially resembled the clothing worn by their
oppressors, the siminoids.  And they had heard her speak words that
they might have recognized as belonging to the language of those same
oppressors.  For all she knew, they had probably seen her as one of
their allies.
   If this is what constitutes humanity as it exists on this planet,
then this is even worse than the worst-case scenario we've planned for. 
She knew that her father and mother had hammered out contingency plans
that dealt with different potentials for what Earth was like, but she
didn't think for a micron that dealing with humans who couldn't talk
and lived like animals had ever entered consideration.  These were
supposed to be descendants from the same mother planet her race had
come from!  How could they have regressed this far back into something
that no human had been like since the earliest days of when life had
began on the distant world of Kobol?
   Hera knelt along the bank and used her hands to help herself to the
beautifully clear water that flowed from the waterfall.  It tasted
better than anything she could recall in all the yahrens of growing up
on the Galactica where chemically treated, recycled liquids were the
norm.  She helped herself to another deep gulp and slowly felt some of
her weariness ease.
   So good did the water taste that she suddenly found the thought of
immersing herself completely to be very inviting.  She got to her feet
and slowly waded in until she was immersed up to her chest.  The water
was cold but incredibly relaxing.
   I'll need to cover myself with dirt again when I leave, she thought
as she waded about, not wanting to look conspicuous by going into a
careful swimming motion.  Instead, she kept her feet on the muddy
bottom of the lagoon and only used her hands for what they called the
'daggit stroke', the first thing children were taught to do when they
learned to swim in the Rising Star's Aquacade.  Wade about in the water
the way a daggit would move.
   She reached the far side of the lagoon where the waterfall cascaded
down on to a rock ledge five feet above the water's surface.  She
lifted herself up onto the ledge and then luxuriated in the gentle
touch of the waterfall rolling off her face and body.  It had a very
soothing effect.  So soothing that she felt the urge to let out a deep
sigh of pleasure, but remembered that would attract attention.  From
what she'd been able to see, these primitives were totally mute.  They
probably couldn't utter a single sound at all.
   She glanced about the lagoon and then noticed that one of the male
primitives was staring at her.  This was a young-looking primitive that
Hera would have guessed was in his twenties.  Like the others, his
brown hair and beard was thick and scraggly, but he seemed more
handsome than any of the other males she'd noticed.  And as Hera's
green eyes met his blue ones, she could sense something different from
the hostility she'd seen in the black-eyed primitive she'd knocked out. 
This one seemed merely curious and fascinated by the sight of her.
   The Galactica warrior tried not to blush or look embarrassed.
Instead, she merely turned her gaze away from him and back to the
refreshing touch of the waterfall, once again letting its steady flow
massage her face and neck.  For several centons, she simply lay on her
back and allowed the waters to roll off her.
   And then, her period of blissful relaxation was interrupted by a
sound she had heard too many times over the course of the day.
   Crack!
   Hera promptly came upright and looked out into the jungle, where the
shots had come from.  She saw the rest of the primitives around the
lagoon start to scatter about in response to the shot, and then decided
it would be foolish for her to stay put.  She jumped off the ledge back
into the water, remembering to go feet first instead of dive.  As she
treaded her way to the other side of the lagoon, where most of the
humans had retreated to, she heard the sound of the trees breaking and
then saw a solitary figure crash through them, eyes wild with panic and
fear.  Hera's mouth fell open when she realized it was the primitive
she had stunned twenty centons earlier and stolen her clothes from. 
And her incredulity deepened when she saw that the primitive was
wearing her flight jacket.
   She must have found it and....
   Before she could finish her thought, there was another crack and
Hera saw the primitive's head explode in an ugly cloud of blood.  Her
body then tumbled over the ledge and into the lagoon.
   It took all of Hera's self-control to keep herself from screaming. 
She felt completely numb with horror as she remained riveted in her
spot on the other side of the lagoon.  Some of the other primitives had
climbed out of the water and were scurrying off into the jungle. 
Others submerged themselves repeatedly as though they were trying to
hide.
   The Galactica warrior then felt a hand go round her shoulder.  Her
eyes darted to her left and she saw the docile face of the blue-eyed
primitive male who'd been staring at her earlier.  Though initially
startled, she realized right away that his whole expression and
demeanor was protective.  As she looked into his eyes, she actually
sensed for the first time, something bordering on normal human emotion
from one of the primitives.  
   She didn't even think of pushing him aside.  Indeed, her first
instinct was just the opposite as she found herself pressing tightly
against him, clasping her arms about his muscular body and burying her
head on his shoulder.  The sight of seeing the female brutally shot
dead because she'd been wearing her own flight jacket had unnerved Hera
completely and made her want to reach out for the first thing that
might conceivably offer some protection to her.  Especially since she
didn't have any means of defense at this point.  Holding on to the
blue-eyed one at least gave her a sense of security that she would need
until the siminoids were gone.
   They're probably completely patriarchal anyway, she allowed herself
some black humor.  No point in acting out of character by pushing him
aside.
   A siminoid then emerged on the ledge and looked down.  The
primitive's body, still clad in Hera's jacket, lay face down in the
water, her arms flailed out and the blood continuing to gush from her
head.  The unholy stain had already spread over to where Hera and her
blue-eyed protector stood, brushing against her body and increasing the
tension she felt inside.
   "You brainless baboon!" the siminoid turned around and exploded with
fury, "You shot her dead!  Our orders were to take her alive!"
   At that point, another siminoid emerged holding a numo and slouched
in a posture that Hera could only guess was extreme embarrassment.
   "I'm---I'm sorry about that, Captain Quintus," he stammered
apologetically, "I--I tried to shoot just to wound, but the foliage was
so thick that----"
   "Don't make excuses!" Quintus roared, "When General Ursus hears
about this, you'll be lucky if you still remain a private!  Now move!"
   "But---but sir, what about the other one we haven't found---"
   "Never mind that!  I won't waste any more time having  incompetents
like you searching about.  Now back to Ape City, where I put you on
report for your foul-up!"
   The intimidated siminoid disappeared back into the jungle.  Captain
Quintus remained where he was, staring down at the motionless body in
the strange clothes and shaking his head in disgust.  He then looked
about the rest of the lagoon and Hera realized that his eyes had locked
on to where she and the Blue-Eyed one were huddled together. 
   "Lucky for you beasts that I'm not in the mood for a hunt today,"
Quintus said aloud, "You'd make wonderful specimens for target practice
or the Zoo.  Unless you ended up in the hands of that infernal Dr. Zira
the human-lover of course."
   And then, Quintus turned and was gone.
   Hera let out a slow relieved exhale and loosened herself from the
blue-eyed one's hold.  She then realized that he was not as anxious to
let go of her so soon.
   The warrior moved herself around and looked into his face, shaking
her head slightly, trying desperately to avoid speaking.  Her silent
gestures seemed to have no effect on him, for he kept his arms about
her, staring into her face with intense fascination bordering on
wonder.
   Please, Hera said silently.  Please let go of me.  Let me go.
   She didn't want to be forced into a position of hurting him, since
she knew he had helped her stay calm during that harrowing moment.  But
the last thing she needed at a critical time like this was to suddenly
find herself becoming a target of affection from one of these
primitives.
   Finally, she gently grabbed hold of his arms and pried them away
from her body as delicately as she possibly could.  She tried to swim
away but then was stopped as she felt him grab hold of her leg.
   Hera felt the sense of exasperation rising inside her as she turned
around and glared slightly at the blue-eyed one.  His expression was
totally unchanged.  She knew his expression was benevolent, but she
couldn't tell if it came from sexual desire or something else.  Indeed,
there was something in his expression that reminded her of the
affection Muffit used to show when the mechanical daggit would curl
itself up beside her in the play area of her room.
   She shook her leg loose and then patiently put her hand on his
shoulder.  With the other, she pointed toward the lagoon bank, trying
to communicate that she wanted to get out of the water.
   It seemed to have an effect.  He nodded his head faintly and backed
away from her.  Feeling relieved, Hera swam toward the bank until it
was shallow enough for her to walk out.  She then made her way over to
the ledge where the unfortunate primitive had tumbled in after being
shot, and stared down at the still-floating corpse.
   Is it my fault that she's dead?  she wondered.  I stole her clothes
so I could protect myself from the siminoids.  She found my clothes and
put them on to survive, and it cost her her life.
   She realized for the first time, she'd experienced a taste of what
her father and both her grandfathers had gone through in handling the
terrible burdens of command level decisions.  Always having to weigh
the possibility that even the correct decisions can carry unpleasant
consequences.
   Hera sat down on a rock at the entry point back into the jungle and
began plotting her next tactical move.  The things she'd heard the
siminoid called Quintus say had revealed a lot of useful information. 
It told her that Boxey was still safe.  It told her that they wouldn't
be searching the area any longer.  It told her that the siminoids had
likely taken Starbuck to their home that they called 'Ape City.'  And
it told her that there was a siminoid called Zira that she might be
able to seek out as someone inclined to treat humans more favorably.
   She knew that she would have to make her way back.  Back through
this region of the jungle to the open meadows that led back to the
maize field.  Somewhere nearby, the so-called Ape City had to be there.
   Approaching the area would be no problem.  Pinpointing it would be
less certain.  No matter.  She had to try.  Starbuck's life depended on
it.
   Her thinking was disrupted when she felt something fall into her
lap.  She looked up with a start and saw the blue-eyed one standing
next to her again, the same gentle, docile look on his face, holding
what appeared to be several pieces of fruit.  She looked down and
realized that he had dropped another piece on her.  Cautiously, she
picked it up and studied it closely.  It was purple in color and seemed
to resemble a Caprican Sunfruit, which had never been one of her
favorites.  But the realization that she hadn't eaten since before
she'd left the Galactica set in, and she took a deep bite.  To her
amazement, the fruit was deliciously sweet and ripe.  Even better than
what she'd tasted from the agro-ship since it hadn't been grown under
artificially induced conditions.
   She finished it off in three bites and tossed the remains aside. 
Almost immediately, the blue-eyed one knelt beside her and extended his
hand offering another.  Hera looked at him with a mixture of bemusement
and gratitude and took it from him.  She could feel the words "thank
you" forming in her throat, and then caught herself in time.  She still
wasn't ready to take the risk of speaking, even if she was sure she
could think of him as a friend.
   But what kind of friend? she thought as she took a bite of her
second piece of fruit.  She was still curious as to whether the
blue-eyed one was being kind to her because he wanted to be her mate or
if he was responding with the instincts of a faithful pet.
   After the Fleet gets over its depression over what kind of a planet
this is like, the Medical Corps is going to have a field day studying
these people.  Already, she could imagine Cassiopeia running a load of
tests on one of these primitives, finding out all she could about their
mental capacity, and their natural instincts.
   The thought of Cassiopeia reminded her that the sooner she set-off
on her attempt to rescue the Chief Medical Officer's ex-husband, the
better.  But the way the blue-eyed one was hovering around her made
Hera realize that if she tried to walk away, he was going to follow
her.  She was going to have to think of another way.
   She tossed away the rind of her second piece and saw that the
blue-eyed one was again offering her another one.  She smiled faintly
at him and shook her head.  He nodded back in understanding, but did
not leave.  Instead he merely sat down next to her on the ledge, never
once taking his eyes off her.  It amazed Hera that his expression never
changed from that docile, gentle one.  She wondered if he'd ever shown
any anger or rage at any time in his life.
   I have a definite problem, the Galactica warrior thought as she
looked out at the lagoon.  Admittedly it was a better problem than the
one she'd been facing only centons ago, but it was still a problem. 
Irrespective of what his motives were, there was no denying the fact
that he was attracted to her in some way.
   What was making it worse was the fact that she was beginning to feel
a physical attraction to him stirring inside herself.  She couldn't
deny that of all the primitives she'd seen, he was by far the
handsomest one.  She could only imagine that if she used a sonic razor
and trimmer and gave him a shave and haircut, she would see an even
more handsome face.  And his nearly-naked muscular body was the most
perfectly sculpted she'd ever seen.
   She forced her mind to return to the tactical plan she'd been
forming.  The easiest way to slip away unnoticed from the watchful eye
of the primitives was to wait until they were asleep.  That would also
mean by the time she got moving, the siminoids would have returned to
their city and she wouldn't have to worry about running into any of
them on her way back to the maize field.  And if it were night by that
point, she stood a better chance of getting closer to the Ape City
under the cover of darkness than in the daylight.  Assuming that she'd
be able to find it, once she retraced her steps back to her original
starting point.
   She glanced at the blue-eyed one and decided to begin waiting him
out.  As soon as he was asleep, she would go.  For ten centons, she
remained in her seated position on the ledge overlooking the lagoon,
only glancing occasionally at him to see if he was beginning to show
signs of tiring.  And all the time seeing that his captivated
expression remained fixed on her.
   The longer she sat next to him, the more she became aware of her own
inner resolve crumbling.  The combination of the peaceful setting of
the lagoon and the jungle, his hovering presence, and her growing
physical lust for him was proving too much for her to ignore.  The
horrific events she had experienced since landing on the planet had
been emotionally trying for her, and she felt the need for some kind of
temporary escape from all the insanity.
   Besides, there was also a part of Hera that made her feel as though
she owed him something.  In a sense, his protective presence at that
particular centon had kept her from losing her wits after seeing the
female shot dead.  And had she given into her fear, it would have
instantly given herself away and made her an easy target for the
siminoid scouts.
   I'm probably just looking for an excuse to have him, she thought. 
And the funny thing is, I don't think I even care.  Indeed, she felt a
mischief sense of wickedness inside about breaking the codes her father
had taught her, that made her feel giddy with delight.
   She glanced sideways and smiled faintly at him.  Trying to
communicate a silent message to him that she hoped he'd understand.
   Now I know what Starbuck meant by the "good old days" of liberty in
space ports before heading off to battle, she chuckled to herself.
   Hera felt his hand brush against her back, and felt her sense of
self-control disappear completely.  She grabbed him by the shoulders
and pulled him to her in a passion-filled embrace.  Within two centons,
all of Hera's thoughts about Starbuck, Boxey, the Galactica, Earth and
the siminoids had been temporarily placed on hold.


   Since Cornelius and Zira had departed, Dr. Zaius had tried to return
his attention to affairs that had been piling up on his desk ever since
his energies had been totally distracted by the Taylor situation.  But
he had only gotten halfway into his first piece of old business when he
heard a pounding on his door.
   "Yes?" the elderly orangutan looked up and said with impatience. 
The door opened and he saw to his distaste that it was General Ursus,
commander of what was officially the Ape Police Force, which consisted
entirely of gorillas.  But while it was technically a police force, it
had all the trappings and functions of a full-fledged army, with army
training techniques, army ranks and an army code of discipline.  The
Ruling Class of Ape Civilization had given those trappings to the
gorillas because they knew how much it would stroke their egos and keep
their martial instincts channeled towards a productive use.  But ever
since Ursus had become commander of the Police Force, Zaius had seen a
gorilla who's instincts for war might not be so easily submerged.  He'd
long heard Ursus make rumblings that gorillas should be given the
privilege of exterminating all humans that existed as part of massive
war campaign.  And he knew that if Ursus ever realized that there
potentially existed a society of intelligent humans somewhere in the
Forbidden Zone, it would bring a call for an even costlier type of war.
   "Good afternoon, Dr. Zaius," Ursus said as he made his way up to the
Chief Scientist, "I'm glad to see that you're in."
   "Merely attending to some neglected affairs in the Ministry."
   "Yes, I can imagine that the whole business surrounding that talking
human took up a lot of your time," his tone was pleasant but had the
edge of someone preparing to spring an unexpected surprise, "Especially
that escape of his into the Forbidden Zone."
   "The affair is closed," Dr. Zaius said emphatically, "You need not
concern yourself over it any longer."
   "Well I'm curious, Dr. Zaius," the general began to pace about in
front of the Chief Scientist's desk, "What was the final judgment of
the Ministry of Science as to what that talking creature actually was?"
   "A scientifically altered freak," he lied, "Cornelius and Zira have
been properly disciplined for their actions."
   "Really," there was the faint air of a smirk in Ursus's expression,
"Tell me something Dr. Zaius, were they capable of altering more than
one human into a talking freak?"
   Zaius frowned at the general, "I don't know what you're talking
about."
   "Then I'll have to show you," Ursus motioned, "Come with me."
   "General Ursus, I have pressing business to attend to----"
   "It's all irrelevant now!" the gorilla snapped.  "Come!"
   The Chief Scientist knew that Ursus was technically violating  
civil authority in demanding his presence.  But the substance of the
general's remarks had set off an alarm bell inside his simian brain,
and he had to see what it was that Ursus was talking about.
   He followed the general out of the Ministry building and into the
main roadway where the trailer stood parked in the middle, it's horses
already detached.
   "Look in there, Dr. Zaius," Ursus motioned, "Today's hunt yielded a
human who not only talks but has weapons that far exceed anything we've
ever known."
   The elderly orangutan stared at the unconscious body of Starbuck in
dubious disbelief.
   "What proof do you have of what you say?" he kept his tone firm, but
avoided looking at the gorilla.
   "Everyone who participated in today's hunt are my witnesses," Ursus
said with triumph, "And I have eight dead gorillas who are the silent
witnesses.  Struck down by their weapons.  A strange type of gun that
shoots fire streaks instead of bullets."
   Zaius darted around, "What do you mean 'their' weapons?"
   "This wasn't the only one," Ursus went on, "There were two others
with him, one male, one female.  Dressed the same way, firing the same
weapons at us.  My patrol took care of the female, but the male is
still at large."
   The Chief Scientist was clearly at a loss of words.
   "I intend to exercise my prerogative to call for an Open Assembly of
our entire population," Ursus folded his arms, "And when I am through,
there will be but one outcome for us.  War!  Total war until every last
human is exterminated!  Because now they have shown themselves to be an
even greater threat to us than we could ever have imagined."
   Dr. Zaius stared at him for almost a minute without saying anything. 
Finally, he walked away toward the residential section of Ape City.
   "You can't run from this, Dr. Zaius!" Ursus shouted, "My will shall
prevail!"
   The Chief Scientist didn't respond, but he already knew in his heart
that the general's words were true.
   Unless he could pull off a miracle of some sorts that would prevent
the scenario he had dreaded all his life from coming to pass.


   Zira had finished gathering all the notes she had taken in more than
ten years of conducting experiments on captive humans.  For over a
minute she looked at them with a measure of sadness.
   They represented the commitment of an entire lifetime.  Since she
was a child, she had always been fascinated by man as the only known
creature that possessed a physiology similar to that of apes.  And so,
when she had chosen science as her career she found herself drawn into
the fields of psychology and zoology, determined that she would one day
learn things that would unlock the secrets of what made them tick, as
well as learn things that would prove beneficial to apes as well.
   And now, because of her desire to see Knowledge and Truth prevail,
her right to conduct the work she loved had been taken from her.
   She picked up the first of her notebooks and went over to the
fireplace located on the far side of her living room.  She opened the
grate and tossed it inside.
   "Zira, what are you doing?"
   She turned around and saw that her husband had entered.  She said
nothing though as she prepared to light a match.
   "Aren't those your notes?" Cornelius asked with bewilderment.
   "Yes," she said flatly as she lit the match and prepared to toss it
inside.
   "Well don't do that," he grabbed her wrist and caused the match to
fall to the floor, where he promptly crushed it under his boot.  "It
was only a suspension.  You'll be reinstated soon.  We both will."
   "Don't be naive, Cornelius," she said with disgust, "They'll never
let us do the work we love again.  Paying our salaries is nothing more
than a bribe to keep us quiet."
   "For once in your life, try to show some more optimism," he said
firmly, "If we have to pursue other ventures temporarily, we'll manage. 
But if you care as much about Truth and Knowledge as you say you do,
then you won't do something as foolish as burn ten years of knowledge
that you've accumulated."
   She let out a sigh and pulled the notebook out of the fireplace,
"You're right."
   "Excellent," he smiled, "Now let's try and start our marriage with a
clean slate."
   Before she could answer, there was a pounding on their front door. 
Cornelius went over to open it and was surprised to see the Chief
Scientist standing there.
   "Dr. Zaius," he said with amazement, "What brings you to see us
again so soon?"
   "Much," the elderly orangutan grunted and made his way over to a
nearby chair, "My worst fears are becoming true."
   "What do you mean?"
   He sat down and glared at the archeologist, "Some of Taylor's
friends have chosen to show themselves and display violence!" his voice
rose with anger.
   "What?" Zira came in from the next room.
   Zaius summarized his meeting with General Ursus and what he had
seen.
   "But you don't know that Taylor has anything to do with these
humans!" Zira protested when he was finished.
   "Whether he is or isn't involved doesn't matter," Zaius snapped,
"What matters is that what the Lawgiver warned in the Unknown Scrolls
about mutants living in the Forbidden Zone is true!  And today we see
evidence of their hostile intentions.  Now, Ursus and the gorillas are
going to plunge us into a war that will rupture the very fabric of our
society."  he got to his feet, "Unless you agree to help me
immediately."
   "Help you?" Zira scoffed, "For what reason?"
   "I will personally see to it that your sentence is not enforced and
that you will both be able to resume your professions in you chosen
fields within a month," there was an edge of desperation in Dr. Zaius's
voice, "All you have to do is take charge of this human and treat his
wounds quickly so that I can talk to him and get all the information I
can out of him."
   "And then what?" Cornelius folded his arms, "When you've gotten what
you want, do you plan on letting him go, or do you plan on doing to him
what you did to Taylor's friend?  The one he called Landon?"
   "That is not your concern,"  Zaius said flatly, "The important thing
is to get him out of General Ursus's hands before he comes to and
starts talking.  If Ursus doesn't have a talking human to present
before the Open Assembly, then his calls for all-out war can not
succeed."
   "I won't do it!" Zira said sharply, "Not when you won't pledge to
let him go."
   "Before you go off showing all that compassion for him, I would
remind you that he and his friends shot eight gorillas dead," the Chief
Scientist said coolly, "Not exactly the mark of someone entitled to
special treatment."
   "No doubt because he was trying to save his brothers from being
brutalized in the hunt," Zira said.
   "Might I suggest that we cease arguing and get to the heart of the
matter?" Cornelius stepped in, trying to keep things from getting out
of hand, "Dr. Zaius, I believe we can pledge our full cooperation if it
will keep General Ursus from leading a call to war."
   "Then come with me," Zaius motioned to the door, "We haven't a
moment to lose."
   The two chimpanzees followed the Chief Scientist out into the main
roadway.  In the distance, they could see General Ursus standing by the
trailer.
   "If ever there was an ape who made me ashamed of my own race, it's
Ursus and his kind," the contempt was thick in Zira's voice.
   "On that we are in agreement," Dr. Zaius nodded, "And if you don't
wish to see gorillas displace orangutans in the Ruling Class, you'll do
everything I ask you to."
   Zira wrinkled her muzzle at him but said nothing as they approached
the trailer.
   "Ah, you've brought back the two apes who love humans more than
anyone," Ursus was dripping with sarcasm as he saw the three of them,
"How utterly unsurprising."
   "General Ursus," Zaius drew himself to the most erect bearing he
could summon and laced his words with stern authority, "As chief of the
Ministry of Science, and Chief Defender of the Faith, you are ordered
to release custody of this human to me, where I will find out all he
knows."
   "You'll forgive me Dr. Zaius, if I seem skeptical of your
intentions," the general refused to let up, "Especially since you plan
on letting those human-lovers assist you."
   "General Ursus!" the elderly orangutan thundered, "Unless you can
produce countermanding orders to my authority from the President of the
Assembly, you will obey me and release him to me!"
   Ursus glared at him with contempt.
   "Spoken like a true member of the Ruling Class," he said as he
handed Zaius the key to the trailer.  "Very well, Dr. Zaius.  But if
you're thinking of ways to block my arguments before the Open Assembly,
you will come to regret it."
   He then moved off, leaving the three of them alone with the trailer
and its contents.
   "Have a look, Zira," the Chief Scientist motioned as he unlocked the
trailer door.  The psychologist climbed into the back end and gave
Starbuck's unconscious form a quick, cursory examination.
   "This man needs immediate medical attention!" she said as she
crawled out.  "I'll notify Galen at the Hospital and have him prepare
to operate."
   "He must do it alone," Zaius cautioned, "The fewer who see him, the
better."
   Zira nodded and began dashing off toward the stone building on the
opposite side of the roadway.  Cornelius stayed by the trailer with
Zaius, giving the Chief Scientist a cold stare.
   The orangutan noticed it, "I know that expression Cornelius.  The
very thing my late wife would do before she said, 'I told you so.'"
   "Not so much you as your predecessors who began this infernal
practice of concealing the truth, Dr. Zaius," Cornelius said with only
a hint of frost, "Had we been prepared centuries ago to accept the idea
that intelligent humans still existed, we surely would not face the
danger we see today from the likes of Ursus."
   The Chief Scientist refused to answer him and turned his back on the
archeologist.


   Starbuck was certain that the next time he'd open his eyes he'd
discover that he was dead.  And then he'd finally know all the answers
to the questions that man had been pondering for thousands of yahrens
about what lay on the other side of death.
   Twice in his lifetime, he was certain that he'd gotten some kind of
taste of that when he'd been taken aboard the Ship of Lights, but he
was sure that only represented a part of what it was all about.
   The question he was most anxious to know was whether people were
reunited with friends and loved ones in the life beyond. If that was
true, then he could think of a lot of people he wanted to talk to
again.  Giles.  Bojay.  Greenbean.  Other comrades lost in battle over
the yahrens.  And he especially wanted to have a word with that old con
artist Chameleon.  It wasn't until after his death, that Cassiopeia had
finally revealed a truth she had kept hidden from Starbuck for yahrens. 
That Chameleon had really been his father.
   "He seems to be coming to," he could hear a male voice say amidst
the blackness, "All lifesigns are normal.  Blood loss compensated for. 
He should have a full and total recovery."
   Those did not sound like the words he'd expected to hear in the
Great Beyond.  They had more the ring of words that indicated he was
still alive.
   But if he was still alive, then that meant he was still trapped on
this godforsaken joke of a planet called Earth, the prisoner of the
ugly siminoids.
   "Ohhhhh," he moaned slightly as he felt his headache and tried to
lift his arm so he could touch his forehead.
   "Whatever you do, do not speak," a stern female voice said, "Remain
silent for now.  You're being treated in a Hospital and your bullet
wounds have been tended to.  It should be a day or two before you
recover completely from your concussion."
   Starbuck finally forced his eyes open.  He could see that he was
lying on some kind of examination table with IV needles running out of
his left arm.  The next thing he became aware of was that his uniform
had been stripped away completely, and he was wearing only a loincloth
similar to what he'd seen the primitives wearing.
   "Hey!" he blurted, "What happened to my clothes?"
   "Removed for your protection.  Now be quiet!" the female voice said
sternly.  Starbuck's eyes darted over and saw that the voice belonged
to a female chimpanzee holding a clipboard.  Two other chimpanzees, one
wearing the white coat of a physician, stood off to one side, while at
the back room he could see the hideous-looking figure of an orangutan.
   "He looks ready to talk," Dr. Zaius shuffled forward to the table. 
"Have him brought into my office for interrogation."
   "I would advise against that, Dr. Zaius," the surgeon called Galen
protested.  "He needs time to recover."
   "I have little time to waste!" the Chief Scientist retorted.  "Have
him brought in, now!"
   Zira let out an exasperated sigh, "Do it, Galen," she then looked at
the orangutan, "But if you're going to interrogate him, Dr. Zaius, I
must insist on being present, along with Cornelius.  You owe us that
privilege."
   "Granted, granted," he waved his cane impatiently.  "Let's just get
this miserable affair done with."
   "Put a collar and leash on him, Galen," Zira said.
   As soon as the surgeon tried to put it around Starbuck's neck, the
warrior began to squirm violently in protest, "Now wait a fracking
centon!"
   "Hold still!" the surgeon admonished.  "It's for your own safety. 
If they see an unleashed human being led about, it becomes a criminal
offense."
   Starbuck let out an exasperated grunt as he felt the leather collar
go round his neck, "Then you won't mind if I register a complaint with
your judicial branch?"
   "Put a muzzle on him!" Zaius ordered, "I don't want him talking
until he's in my office!"
   Cornelius nodded and placed the leather face guard that kept the
jaws locked over Starbuck's face.  He tried to thrash about in protest,
but the two chimpanzees managed to keep him restrained.  When it was
finally in place, the IV's were removed and they lifted Starbuck to his
feet.  The final restraint was put in place with two thick strands of
rope binding his wrists together.
   "You lead him Zira," the Chief Scientist motioned and then stepped
out into the next room.
   The psychologist took him by the leash and glared at Starbuck, "I
want to help you as much as I can, but you won't do yourself any favors
unless you cooperate and be still!" she whispered.
   Starbuck tried to mumble a retort but the muzzle had immobilized his
jaws completely.  His shock had now been replaced by intense anger that
he'd been subjected to the humiliations of being stripped and now led
about on a leash like an animal.  Especially by creatures that he'd
always regarded as the most repulsive of all animals since he was a
child.
   Zira led Starbuck out of the room and out of the building.  Night
had now fallen over Ape City.  The only illumination came from some
crude oil lamps and torches lining the buildings.  In the dim glare,
Starbuck could see a wooden cage containing more than two dozen humans
milling about.  He half expected that he was going to be thrown in
there, but to his surprise Zira led him past the cage toward another
stone building at the far end of the roadway.  When they entered, she
led him down a corridor toward a door at the building's far end.  The
door was already open, and Zaius was seated behind his desk, with
Cornelius sitting off to one side.
   "Let him sit down," the Chief Scientist motioned toward one of the
other chairs that had been set up.  As soon as Zira had seated
Starbuck, she and Cornelius then pulled the muzzle off his face.
   "Let me tell you something," Starbuck spoke the instant his jaws
could move again, "When it comes to being good hosts, you guys are the
absolute worst."
   "A bit of an eccentric isn't he?" Cornelius said to his wife with
amusement.
   "Indeed," Zira nodded.
   Starbuck turned and glared at them, "And I suppose your definition
of a normal human is one that meekly lets himself be led around on a
leash when you gallmonging snitrods aren't shooting them in cold
blood?"
   "I don't know what you mean by a 'gallmonging snitrod'----" Dr.
Zaius began.
   "Whatever it means Dr. Zaius, I believe this eccentric one meant it
as in insult," Cornelius said.
   Starbuck gave the archeologist a smirk, "You're real smart for a
chimp.  I'm not sure I'd be able to say that about many of you."
   The archeologist flinched when he heard the term 'chimp' which in
ape language was always regarded as a slur to describe chimpanzees who
were slothful and lazy.  The only insults that a chimpanzee would have
considered worse than that, were to be called a 'monkey' or a 'baboon'. 
The only two species of apes that did not possess intelligence.
   "Your comments are most unwise," Dr. Zaius resumed, "I might as well
come straight to the point and tell you that if you do not provide us
with information, you will face a most horrible fate."
   "Oh boy," Starbuck rolled his eyes, "I've heard that line before. 
And from beings far less ugly than the lot of you."
   "Do not try my patience!" the Chief Scientist bolted up from his
chair, "I am willing to let you go and return to where you came from,
but only if you cooperate!"
   "Depends on what you ask me," Starbuck refused to be intimidated.
   Dr. Zaius sat back down, visibly seething with rage.  Sensing that
the old orangutan was putting a strain on himself, Zira decided to take
the initiative.
   "Look," she began in a more gentle tone of voice, trying to sound
friendly, "Do you have a name?"
   "Starbuck," he refused to reciprocate her gentleness.
   "Starbuck," she repeated and kept her tone friendly, "Look, all we
want to know is why you are here."
   "I thought that reason was pretty obvious," Starbuck remained flip,
"My reflexes aren't what they used to be, and I foolishly put myself in
a position where I allowed your friends to capture me.  That's why I'm
here."
   This man may lead me to reassess every positive thing I was
beginning to think about humanity, Cornelius thought with disgust.
   "Look, Starbuck," Zira summoned all of her training in psychology to
the forefront, "I think maybe if you learned to trust us, we might be
able to help each other."
   "Help," he scoffed, "Oh yeah, I'm sure your race has lots of
experience in giving humans a helping hand."
   "Starbuck," Zira refused to let herself lose patience, "Please.  Put
away your anger for a moment.  Put away your suspicion and hostility
toward every ape in general.  Learn to realize that there are some of
us who aren't as bloodthirsty as those gorillas who captured you."
   The grizzled warrior stared at her for a moment, not saying
anything, as though he was trying to make a decision on whether or not
her friendly tone was sincere.
   When he finally spoke, the flippancy was gone from his voice, "Is
that what you call yourself?  Apes?"
   "Yes," she nodded and seemed slightly puzzled, "You have another
name for our species where you come from?"
   "In our language, the general classification term is siminoids,"
Starbuck said, deciding to be cautious for now, "Though I have to
admit, your term is shorter and simpler."
   "You've never used the term 'apes' before?" Cornelius entered the
conversation.
   "No," Starbuck looked at him, "It's not in our language."
   "But Taylor understood the term," Dr. Zaius chose to reenter the
discussion, "How could you not know?"
   Starbuck turned toward the orangutan and frowned, "Who's Taylor?"
   "Do not insult my intelligence, Starbuck," the Chief Scientist's
voice rose slightly, "It is impossible for me to believe that you and
your companions could be this close to Ape City and be ignorant of who
Taylor is."
   "What happened to them?" the hostility returned to Starbuck's voice,
"Where are they?"
   The elderly orangutan leaned back in his chair, "I will not answer
your questions until you cooperate."
   "I said where are they?!" Starbuck bolted up from his chair and
would have reached out to strangle Zaius had his hands not been bound
behind his back.
   "You make another move, and you die now!" Zaius shouted as he pulled
out a gun he'd kept hidden behind his desk.  "If you value your life,
and your people, you will cooperate!"
   Cornelius and Zira grabbed Starbuck by the shoulders and forced him
back into his seat.  The archeologist had a look of absolute disgust on
his face, while Zira began to think that communicating with this human
was next to hopeless.  Taylor at least was willing to reach out to
someone willing to help him.  The way this one had such an innate
hostility toward apes made her wonder if she'd done Dr. Zaius a
disservice in condemning him so harshly.
   Starbuck's expression remained venomous as he stared at the Chief
Scientist.  "I'm not saying one fracking word until you tell me what
happened to my two friends."
   "No!" Zaius shouted, "You cooperate with us, first!"
   The warrior leaned back against his chair, "I guess I've got no
choice then."
   "Indeed," the Chief Scientist rose from his chair, "Let's begin then
with a clearing of the air.  You and your friends came here to rescue
Taylor, did you not?"
   "I told you, I don't know any Taylor!" Starbuck felt the
exasperation rising inside him.
   "Preposterous!" Zaius scoffed, "Taylor is the only other one of your
kind to cross our path.  You have to know who he is!"
   "Who is Taylor?" at this point, Starbuck found himself thinking that
a Cylon interrogation would be preferable to this.  At least when it
came to the Cylons, he always knew what it was that they wanted to
know, and he could bluff his way through.  But with these creatures, he
didn't have the vaguest conception of what it was they wanted to know. 
All he knew was that he hated this race of siminoids with as much
passion as he hated Cylons.
   "Taylor is like you," Zira pointed to him, "He is the only other
human I have ever known who can talk and think."
   Starbuck's ears seemed to perk up, "You mean there are intelligent
humans on this planet?  And that all of them aren't like those
primitive ones?"
   "We always thought of Taylor as unique," Cornelius said, wondering
why Starbuck had used the term 'planet.'  "Although, we have since
learned that he is conceivably one of many."
   "It's nice to hear that," the sarcastic edge returned to Starbuck's
voice.
   "Do not play the fool with me, Starbuck!" Zaius snapped, "Perhaps
you don't personally know Taylor, but you undoubtedly come from his
tribe in the Forbidden Zone."
   "Listen pal," Starbuck said in a low, emphatic tone, "I don't know
any Taylor and I never heard of the Forbidden Zone.  I don't even come
from this planet, for sagan's sake!"
   Both Cornelius and Zira felt their brows furrow when they heard the
last remark.  Dr. Zaius though, began to laugh.
   "My friend," he said, "You are a very bad liar.  You claim not to
know Taylor, yet you tell the same ridiculous story of coming from
another planet exactly like he did."
   "Believe me pal, I've lied plenty of times in my life, but only when
it concerns gambling and women," Starbuck shot back, "I come from
another planet at the other edge of this galaxy.  My people came to
this planet to look for a brother tribe of ours that settled here many
thousands of yahrens ago.  And that's the most I'm going to tell you,
until you tell me where my two friends are!"
   The bewildered looks on Cornelius and Zira only increased.  Dr.
Zaius seemed no less dubious, as he relaxed his posture and leaned
forward. 
   "Very well," he said, "Your male friend remains at large.  As for
the female, I am afraid that the gorillas killed her in the search."
   Starbuck's eyes bulged in shock.  The thought that Hera, whom he had
first held in his arms on the day she'd been born, whom he had watched
grow up, and who he regarded as the closest thing he'd ever had to a
child of his own, could be dead was almost too much for him to
consider.
   He was too shocked and sickened to lash out in rage.  All he could
think of was Apollo and Sheba, and what he'd have to say to them if he
got out of this alive.  And if he'd be able to live with himself again.
   "Frack," he lowered his head, and muttered.  The three apes could
see the emotion and torment on his face, and it instantly caused
Cornelius and Zira to reassess their initial attitudes of Starbuck,
even though they were still astounded by what they saw as his bizarre
comment about coming from another planet.
   Maybe he isn't so eccentric after all, Zira thought.  Maybe he just
acts that way to conceal his true self.
   "Starbuck?" Zira put her furry hand on his, "Starbuck, believe me
when we say we're sorry for that.  None of us wanted to see that
happen.  The gorillas are a bloodthirsty part of our species."
   "You're not exactly examples of congeniality yourself!" Starbuck
suddenly roared, "You lousy fracking murderers!"
   "And what do you call your shooting dead eight gorillas?" Dr. Zaius
acidly retorted.  "Any claims of moral superiority on your part, I find
most unimpressive."
   "I killed siminoids who were shooting down and brutalizing an
innocent group of human beings," Starbuck wanted to spit at the
orangutan, "I have a sworn oath to protect human life, and by God I'm
going to keep that!"
   "Again, you betray yourself," the Chief Scientist said, "You speak
of an oath.  A military oath?  That means you are a solider of some
kind."
   "Of some kind," he nodded and snarled.
   "Proving beyond any shadow of a doubt that you are nothing more than
a mutant from the Forbidden Zone with the same brutal instinct for war
and destruction that has always been the hallmark of your race."
   Starbuck was seething with so much rage and anger that he felt
totally incapable of saying anything else at this point.  All he felt
was an all-consuming hatred of everything about this race of siminoids
and a desire to see it destroyed.
   Zira could see the fury in the warrior's face, and decided the time
had come to intercede.
   "Dr. Zaius," she got to her feet, "I must protest the way you've
been handling this.  You've been provoking him senselessly and doing
nothing to encourage him to cooperate.  With your permission, I'd like
to have a talk with him privately."
   "For what?" Zaius snorted, "How can I be sure you won't do with him,
what you did with Taylor?"
   "Dr. Zaius, you have our word of honor," Cornelius spoke up, "My
wife only wishes to help, and I think her methods would probably do a
lot better than yours would."
   "I haven't the time to wait for a scientific experiment to succeed!"
the Chief Scientist said indignantly, "General Ursus will have a
meeting summoned within three days.  This human must either have
cooperated by then, or be destroyed!"
   "Your methods don't seem to be making any headway," Zira retorted,
"Perhaps treating Starbuck with some dignity would do us all a lot
better."
   Starbuck glanced over at the psychologist and for the first time
sensed that maybe all of the siminoids weren't alike.  He had heard
enough con artists in his lifetime to realize that Zira's tone of voice
was utterly sincere.
   Dr. Zaius sat back down and let out an exasperated grunt.
   "Very well.  But I give you just twenty-four hours.  If you have not
succeeded by then, he is to be destroyed."
   "Agreed," Zira nodded her head, and then came over to Starbuck.
   "Starbuck," her voice had the tenderness of a foster mother meeting
a child for the first time, "I'd like you to spend the night with
Cornelius and me at our house.  If you promise not to talk on the way
over, we won't have to bother with the muzzle."
   The warrior looked at her with extreme caution, still angry and
upset over the news about Hera, and not wanting to trust her.
   But Starbuck realized that if he was going to have any chance at
all, he might as well go along with her.  And see how genuine her
compassion really was.
   "All right," he said quietly with an air of resignation, "Lead the
way."


   The moon had finally come out, casting a soft white glow over the
lagoon waters.  It gave Hera just barely enough illumination to realize
that the blue-eyed one was finally fast asleep, curled up alongside her
in the same way that she could remember Muffit doing when she was a
child.
   Without making a sound, and being extremely careful not to disturb
him, she slowly got to her feet, picked up her skimpy garments and
tiptoed her way back into the darkened regions of the forest.
   She felt only a tinge of guilt about how she was treating the man
she had freely chosen to lose her virginity to.  She had unquestionably
taken advantage of him, but if she hadn't done something to get her
mind off the tragedies of the day, she wasn't sure if she'd have been
able to keep her sanity.  The blue-eyed one had at least offered her
some relief and she didn't care at all that it had meant violating some
of the moral codes her parents had taught her about sex.  
   At no time did she ever have to worry about being tempted to stay in
the safety of the jungle with the blue-eyed one.  All throughout the
two sessions of lovemaking she'd experienced, the back of her
disciplined mind was reminding her of the job that needed to be done,
and as soon as the opportunity was right, she was going to get back to
that job no matter what.  The blue-eyed one could only be a pleasant
diversion to her, not someone she could develop an emotional attachment
to.
   Even so, she couldn't deny that he was always going to occupy a
place in her memory.  Because of that, she turned back and looked at
his still sleeping form for a brief moment, trying not to let her eyes
tear up.
   Goodbye handsome, she said to herself.  And thank you.
   With that, all of her energies were now directed toward getting back
to that mysterious "Ape City" where she knew Starbuck was being held
prisoner.  There was little moonlight penetrating the forest, and it
made Hera exercise even greater caution in not making a sound.  She
moved very slowly, pausing to put her garments back on along the way. 
After she'd gone thirty feet, she almost let out a startled exclamation
when her toes brushed against something metallic on the ground.  She
reached down and picked the object up and realized to her amazement
that she'd found her holster belt.  Even more amazing was the fact that
her laser pistol and portable scanner were still attached.
   Incredible, she thought as she wrapped it around her waist.  By all
the Lords of Kobol, how could I have been so lucky?
   She realized that the only reason why it was lying here was because
the unfortunate female who had stolen her clothes from the hiding spot,
had in all likelihood tossed it aside, not realizing what it was.  Once
again, that unfortunate female had done something that had helped
insure Hera's survival for now.
   It took Hera almost a half-centar of quiet tiptoeing through the
foliage before she finally reached the open field area.  The clear,
moonlit night made visibility much easier and she started a normal
walking pace back in the direction of the maize field, where the whole
miserable ordeal had begun in what seemed like an eternity ago to her.
   When she reached the top of the incline, she stopped to look off
toward the horizon.  As far as she could tell, there was no one there,
human or siminoid.  To be on the safe side, she detached her scanner
and activated it.  It registered nothing.
   Knowing it was imperative to get near to where Starbuck was before
the night waned, she began to run through the tall grass as fast as her
legs could carry her.


   As Starbuck languished in the prison of Ape City, and Hera made her
way through the fields and forests to try and locate him, the third
Galactica warrior continued his slow, lonely journey in the other
direction toward the jagged peaks of the rugged desert.
   Boxey's constant walking since he had left the vandalized wrecks of
the three vipers behind had caused his sprained ankle to badly swell
up.  After a while, he had become oblivious to the pain.  The only
thing that mattered was putting as much distance as he possibly could
between himself and the siminoid colony.  Hoping desperately that far
away from them, he would find signs of life on Earth that could help
him.  And help the people of the Fleet as well.  Because what he had
seen up to now represented something worse than any of the nightmares
he could remember having about potential bad situations on Earth.
   There has to be more to this planet than humans that can't talk and
siminoids that seem to run everything, he thought as he dragged himself
down a rocky incline, almost tripping over the stones in the process.
   Boxey finally decided it was time to take a brief respite.  He knew
he had to have covered at least fifteen miles on foot since he'd begun,
and it was hard for him to imagine that the siminoids would try to
venture this far.  He knew that at this point, his journey had passed
over completely from one of escape to one of searching.
   God forgive me for not looking for Starbuck and Hera, he sighed
heavily as he took out the first of his protein bars and unwrapped it. 
But I can't do it alone.  I have to find someone who can help.
   As he looked about the wide expanse of craggy rock formations and
jagged peaks through his nightvision goggles though, it was hard to
imagine that there was any other kind of life at all on this planet. 
All he could see was total, lonely desolation as far as the eye could
see.
   "So this is the paradise the Thirteenth tribe settled on," he said
aloud, "Looks as though they did a lovely job running it."
   Boxey finished his unappetizing protein bar and then fingered the
medallion that his father had given him to wear only eighteen centars
ago, but which now seemed like an eternity to him.  The medallion that
Adama had worn for so many yahrens as a symbol of unshakable faith in
the destiny of humankind to start anew on the planet Earth.  He found
himself rubbing the design in the center that depicted the Great Seal
of the Lords of Kobol, as if he hoped that it might restore some of
that same faith within himself.
   "Earth is a shining blue planet, where humans of all creeds live in
absolute harmony and tranquility......"
   The ghostly echo of words from a bedtime story Adama had told him so
long ago filled his mind.  It seemed to cancel out any hope within
Boxey that his faith in the dream of Earth could ever be restored.
   Unless I find something.  There has to be something out here!
   He pulled out his micro-scanner and began pointing it in every
direction around the vast, canyon-like regions.  If nothing registered
on it, then he was tempted to start thinking that the time had come to
turn back and take his chances with what lay near the siminoids' own
territory.  If there was no trace of anything that he could get to by
morning, then his chances of getting help for Starbuck and Hera would
be down to non-existent.
   For over a centon, he trained the scanner back and forth in a
rolling motion toward every possible distant horizon.  All he heard was
a monotonous click indicating nothing.
   It soon got to the point where Boxey let out an exasperated grunt
and didn't keep a firm grip on the scanner.  It now tilted slightly
downward at an angle, as he continued to move it back and forth.
   Ping!
   Boxey bolted up from his sitting position and promptly heard the
click resume.  He wondered if he had just imagined the sound, but it
had sounded completely real to him.  He began to move the scanner about
in crazy angles trying to pinpoint the direction it had been in when
the solitary ping registered.
   Three centons went by and nothing happened.  He was about to give up
and chalk the whole thing up to his imagination when he crouched down
slightly and heard the sound again.
   Ping!
   Boxey froze in his position, and the pinging sound continued.  It
was coming from a downward trajectory, somewhere off to his left.  He
readjusted his nightvision goggles to get the clearest view of what lay
in that direction.  What he saw didn't look promising.  He expected to
see some type of cave, but only saw a medium sized rock formation, no
more than ten feet high.  It didn't seem likely that it could be the
source of the scanner contact, but the longer Boxey kept the device
trained on it, the more steady the pinging became.
   The Galactica warrior felt his hands trembling as he readjusted the
dial to get information on just what the contacts were.  But as soon as
he made the adjustment, his screen suddenly went blank and the pinging
came to a stop.
   "What the frack---" he said aloud and banged his hand against the
side of the device.  There wasn't even a click coming from it anymore. 
Without any warning, his scanner had gone completely dead.
   "Of all the lousy times for a power unit to run dead!" he shouted
angrily as he prepared to open the back of the device.  But before he
could remove the cover, he abruptly stopped and began to think very
carefully.
   There is no way the power could have wound down, he thought.  Boomer
personally designed these devices and they're supposed to be good for
more than a hundred centars of continuous use.
   It struck him as too much of a strange coincidence that his scanner
would go out just at the point where he would have learned who and what
those contacts were.  There had to be a definite reason why it had
happened at that particular instant in time.
   Boxey took another look about at the vast endless sea of rocky peaks
and desert canyon that seemed to stretch out to infinity on all sides
of him.  There was nothing but landscape visible for as far as the eye
could see, suggesting only lonely desolation.
   And yet, Boxey could feel a chill creeping up his back.  A chill
caused by a firm belief that somewhere, by something, he was being
watched.  And whatever it was that was watching him was the cause of
why his scanner had gone out.
   He stared at the rock formation where the pinging had come from.  It
beckoned to him with all the temptation of a Skorpian dancer shedding
her costume.
   He massaged his swollen ankle and then picked up his survival gear. 
If this was a temptation, he planned to give in to it.
   Boxey made his way over to the rock formation and saw that it was
not one solid piece of rock, as it had seemed from a distance.  There
was a five foot slab lying up against the larger formation, suggesting
that it concealed the entrance to a cave.  He inspected the slab and
saw that is was no more than two inches thick.  He could easily blast
that away with his laser pistol on the maximum setting, but decided
that he should try and push it away first.  He braced himself against
the side of the slab and pushed hard with all his strength.  To his
amazement, it gave way with little exertion and fell aside, breaking
into two sections when it hit the ground.
   He peered inside and saw a black cave leading down.  He adjusted his
goggles to the maximum level but only saw the blackness lessen a tiny
bit.
   No matter.  This was something he had to check out.  And if he was
being lured inside by beings unknown, he was more than prepared to
defend himself.
   After saying a quick prayer to the Almighty for strength and
courage, he rubbed the medallion around his neck for extra luck and
slowly descend

                    Chapter Five

   The Magellan II was now less than twelve hours away from landing. 
Twelve more hours, and her three-man crew would be greeted to the sight
of a world totally changed from the one they had known and left a scant
eighteen months earlier.
   Twice, Brent had felt the need to take a stress pill to alleviate
the tension that had been building inside him ever since he'd first
spotted the North American continent through the cockpit windows and
realized that this mission was going to give him a glimpse of something
he'd never wanted to see.  The future of his planet, and his people. 
He'd tried to pass the time remaining before landing by getting some
sleep but the hibernation experience had left him unable to get his
body to obey on that score.  And so, he'd remained in his seat on the
left side of the cockpit, unable to take his eyes off the Earth as it
grew closer and closer in the windows.
   Occasionally, he cast a glance at Rollins and Fowler to get some
measure of how they were treating the whole thing.  He could see enough
in Fowler's eyes to tell that the navigator had as much apprehension as
he did.  Rollins though, was another matter.  The expedition commander
had nary a trace of emotion in his eyes or movements.  It still
astounded Brent that Rollins could be completely oblivious to the
ethical and moral ramifications of being exposed to Earth's future, and
regard it as no big deal in the overall scheme of things.  Instead,
Rollins was single-mindedly obsessed with the mission of finding Taylor
and the others, and letting that be the end of it.  To Brent, there was
almost something robotic about the commander's fixation with finding
the misanthropic astronaut and his crew.
   Maybe that's the kind of attitude they look for when they pick the
commanders for the crazy missions, he thought to himself.  By the book
men who follow orders down to the letter.
   If that were the case, then Brent knew his chances of earning a
general's star some day were probably non-existent.  Being by-the-book
had never been his style as a combat pilot in Vietnam or as an
astronaut.  It had earned him many awards and decorations through the
years, but never any command-level positions.  He sometimes suspected
that the real reason why his wife had left him was because she couldn't
live with the thought that she'd never become the wife of a general who
commanded large detachments of soldiers, received an appointment to the
Joint Chiefs of Staff or some other cushy slot in the Pentagon, and got
to mingle with all the important people in Washington society circles.
   And if that were true, he wondered if the real reason why he'd
volunteered for this mission was because he'd held some ray of hope
that if he succeeded at it, he'd finally get some of those command
opportunities that had long been denied him.  Maybe the Air Force would
give him a star after all.  Maybe he could fulfill a dream he'd once
had of commanding the entire Strategic Air Command or NORAD.  And maybe
he'd win his wife and his daughter back in the process.
   Brent shook his head and downed another stress pill.  In his effort
to not think about what the future was like, he'd wandered off into the
area of self-analysis more than he ever cared to.  It made him realize
that concentrating on the mission probably wasn't such a bad idea after
all.
   "Still on course?" he finally broke his silence and glanced over at
Fowler.
   The navigator looked up from his console, "According to the
trajectory heading, we'll land somewhere within a twenty-five mile
radius of New York City." he then skipped a beat and added deadpan,
"You think maybe we'll have time to catch a Yankees game and a Broadway
show?"
   The navigator's remark had it's desired effect as both Rollins and
Brent burst out into laughter.
   "We'll see," the commander grinned, "At this point, the season
should be nearing the All Star Break.  Only maybe instead of the
American League against the National League, it's now the Earth League
against the Mars League."
   "If we've really branched out that far," Brent said.
   "I'd be surprised if we haven't," Rollins went back to his monitors,
"After all, we already know that there are advanced technologies down
there."
   The second-in-command looked at him quizzically, "We do?"
   "The UFO's that woke us up," Rollins said, "Those ships could move
faster than anything I'd ever seen before."
   "I wish I'd had a chance to see them," Brent said, "So far, I've
been looking for signs of technology down there and I'm not seeing
any."
   "I don't think tapping into their radio signals is a good idea,"
Rollins said, "If we make contact, what would we say?  Magellan II
spacecraft from the 20th Century requests landing instructions?  Better
that we keep quiet until we land."
   "Agreed," Brent nodded, "But shouldn't we be seeing the lights of
major cities at this point?  And how come there are no signs of
orbiting satellites or space stations?"
   "I have no idea," Rollins said with a nonchalant aura, "And I'm not
about to speculate.  We'll just wait until tomorrow and see what comes
our way."
   "Skipper----" Brent started
   "No speculation, Brent," Rollins said firmly, making it clear that
the conversation was now a closed subject.  "Just get back to your
job."
   The second-in-command rolled his eyes in disbelief, Yes sir.


   Two hundred million miles behind the Magellan II, another craft was
approaching Earth.  This one carrying the four people sent out by the
Galactica to look for the missing patrol.
   "Galactica Core Command, this is Recon Shuttle One." Athena radioed
with the same crisp precision that she flew the shuttle single-handedly
with, "Have cleared the asteroid field and now on clear path trajectory
to Earth.  Estimate intercept time to Earth spacecraft in five
centons."
   "Affirmative Recon Shuttle One," Sheba acknowledged, "We're reaching
a point where it's not a good idea to keep an active transmission
signal open.  As soon as you've made contact with the spacecraft,
please file your last report and assume radio silence until your
return."
   "Understood," Athena nodded, "We aren't going to be returning until
we know exactly what happened to them."
   At the other end, her sister-in-law skipped a beat before answering. 
Athena could almost picture the brief flicker of pained anxiety passing
over Sheba's face.  After all the yahrens that she'd gotten to know her
and love her, she knew that her sister-in-law was not the best when it
came to keeping all of her inner emotions hidden.
   "You're the one who can find them, Athena," the executive officer
finally spoke in a normal, unemotional tone, "Apollo and I have full
confidence in you."
   Athena knew she didn't need to say anything else and switched the
transmitter off.  She checked her scanner and could see the bright red
planet that marked the last one in the system prior to Earth pass by
her on the port side.  The blip on the grid indicated the Earth
spacecraft, still traveling at a very slow pace toward the Earth.
   "Bernabe, Ares," she called over to the two security guards seated
ten feet behind them in the front row of passenger seats, "Could you
please go back and run a full inventory check of our gear?"
   The two guards exchanged glances at each other, indicating that they
both knew that the Major wanted them out of the main compartment for
another reason.
   "Yes, Major," Ares said as he got to his feet.  "Do you want us to
double-check the systems in the landram too?"
   "Good idea," the black-haired major nodded, "We don't get a chance
to use them that often.  If there are any systems shorted out, better
that we find out about them now."
   Ares nodded and headed for the door that led to the rear
compartment, with Bernabe trailing him.  Once they were in the
compartment and had sealed the door again, Ares let out a chuckle.
   "Don't bother making a detailed check," he said, "Athena wants a
private talk with Cassiopeia.  That's why she sent us back here."
   "I sort of figured that," said the young, olive-skinned warrior
who'd been born in space to a Skorpian father and Sagitarian mother,
"What would they not want us to overhear?"
   Ares, who was in his early forties and had a small streak of gray
running across his black hair, folded his arms and smiled, "Probably
some talk about Starbuck.  They've both played a big part in his life."
   The younger guard frowned, "I know all about Starbuck and
Cassiopeia, but where does Athena fit in?"
   "You're too young to remember," Ares said as he put his arm around
the young guard's shoulder the way a father might for his son, and
explained how before Starbuck had married Cassiopeia, he had once been
involved with Athena.
   Ares always enjoyed telling Bernabe stories about the old days, and
about the warriors he'd known over the yahrens.  The older security
guard was an ex-viper pilot who was part of a dwindling breed of
warriors that had served aboard a battlestar other than the Galactica
prior to the Holocaust.  In his case, the Battlestar Columbia which had
been the only other battlestar to survive the Cylon ambush, but had to
be scuttled by the Galactica because it's damage had been too
extensive.  Her commanding officer, Commander Fairfax, had also
survived the Holocaust but soon lost his life a sectan later during the
battle of Carillon when he'd rammed his viper into a Cylon baseship and
contributed to its destruction as the planet blew up.
   At the time, Ares had been a young green cadet of eighteen, flying
in the Columbia's Blue Squadron under Captain Killian.   From the
outset Killian had become his mentor, training him in all aspects of
combat flying, and in time the young cadet had come to love him as a
father-figure.  That had remained true even as Killian, Ares and thirty
additional pilots from the Columbia had been thrust into a new setting
aboard the Galactica in the wake of the Holocaust.  Killian had become
commander of the Galactica's Red Squadron, and Ares continued to
develop as a pilot under his mentor's tutelage, eventually serving with
distinction during the Battle of Kobol when Red Group had been forced
to pick up much of the slack following a mysterious illness that had
incapacitated most of Blue Squadron.  Ares had won a promotion to
Sergeant and seemed on his way to an outstanding career as a viper
pilot.
   But two sectars after the Battle of Kobol, Ares's life was
permanently disrupted when Captain Killian, his mentor, teacher and
idol was killed in action as the result of a massive Cylon laser cannon
on the planet Arcta.  The loss of Killian had devastated his young
protege and taken away all of Ares's desire to fly.  No sooner had the
laser cannon been destroyed that Ares had requested a transfer to the
Colonial Security Forces.  It had meant taking a pay cut, and reduction
in rank back to Cadet, but he didn't care.  Ares had been so close to
Killian, and idolized him as the most indestructible warrior he had
ever known.  From a rational standpoint, he could not accept the
thought that Killian was dead.  And he knew in his heart that he could
never be an effective pilot again if he was always going to be haunted
by the death of his mentor.
   In the twenty-five yahrens since, Ares had performed well in his new
career as a Colonial Security Guard, taking part in ground survey
missions on the many planets that the Galactica had encountered over
the yahrens.  But he had vowed never to set foot in a viper cockpit
again and he'd stuck to that vow even though both Apollo and Starbuck
had always felt that he'd turned his back on the work he'd been best
qualified for.
   Now, he had found himself in a position where he had become the
mentor and father-figure to young Sergeant Bernabe, who had been
partnered with him from the very beginning of the young guard's career. 
Always, the memory of what Killian had meant to Ares lingered within
him, and he had made a determined effort to play the same role to
Bernabe, while simultaneously cautioning the young warrior to not
become too dependent on him.
   This would be the first time that Ares and his protege would be
working together.  And it was an assignment that he knew he was going
to enjoy.


   "I suppose you're wondering why I specifically asked you to come on
the mission," Athena said as soon as the two guards were out of the
compartment.
   Cassiopeia brushed away a lock of her blonde hair that had turned
slightly silvery in the last few yahrens, "The instant I heard who it
was we're looking for, it wasn't too difficult to figure out." she
paused and glanced somewhat suspiciously at her, "Mind you, I'm glad
you asked me to come.  I am anxious to help look for him and Boxey and
Hera."
   "But?" Athena knew the word was on the edge of her tongue.
   The Chief Medical Officer didn't know how to choose her next words. 
Finally, she took a breath and said with considerable caution, "Athena,
if you're thinking that by having me along you can find a way of
forcing Starbuck and me back together, it's not going to work.  I can
be friends with him, but I can never be his wife again."
   "Maybe, maybe not," Athena kept her attention focused ahead of her,
"You never know what the future holds."
   "That's true," she admitted, "But there's too much of a gulf between
us, Athena.  Starbuck can't change what he is."
   "If he's gotten himself into trouble on this mission, it might cause
him to start thinking twice for the first time," the black-haired major
said.
   Cassiopeia didn't feel like saying anything else.  All she could
think of was the strange irony at how Athena was seemingly trying to
force her and Starbuck together again, when the two of them had been
the rivals for Starbuck's affection before he had chosen Cassiopeia.
   She never had the heart to tell Athena that one of the other reasons
why her marriage to Starbuck had dissolved concerned something that had
nothing to do with Starbuck's eccentric habits of gambling, carousing,
etc.  Another reason why their marriage hadn't worked the way they'd
hoped was because Starbuck always felt an underlying feeling of guilt
inside him over dumping Athena for her.  Especially when he noticed
over time how Athena had become a very lonely, withdrawn person for
many yahrens afterwards.
   "Let's just stick to the mission, Athena," Cassiopeia finally said,
"We all want to find them, so let's not give any personal
considerations a further thought."
   "Fair enough," she nodded as she consulted her navigational grid,
"Three centons to contact with the Earth ship.  Let's run a lifescan on
them."
   Cassiopeia pressed several buttons and saw the readout come up.
   "Athena," she frowned, "According to these readings, the crew isn't
sleeping any longer.  Definite indication is that they're moving about
inside."
   "You're sure of that?" Athena lifted an eyebrow.
   "Positive."
   "Hmmmm.  That changes the equation a bit.  I think we're going to
have to make contact with them now." she pressed the unicom button that
opened her transmission to all possible frequencies, "Attention Earth
spacecraft.  This is Major Athena of the Battlestar Galactica.  If you
can hear my signal, please acknowledge.  We are completely friendly and
mean you no harm."
   There was nothing but silence.
   "You think they're listening?" Cassiopeia asked.
   "Can't tell," she said as they drew closer and the blinking lights
of the spacecraft became visible for the first time.  "I may need to
give them a visual signal first."


   Abruptly, the three astronauts were jolted by the sound of the
yellow alert siren which indicated the presence of a nearby ship.
   "Looks like we've got another of those ships I saw coming up,"
Rollins said as he quickly killed the siren, "Fowler, can you get a fix
on where it is?"
   "Coming from astern and fast," the navigator said.  "Indications are
that it's about two hundred feet long.  Can't get any other possible
readings until we see it."
   Both Brent and Rollins were pressing their faces against the cockpit
windows waiting to see if they could catch a glimpse of the fast moving
spacecraft.  After a long, anxious minute they saw it pull up alongside
them, no more than two miles away.
   "That's not the same kind of ship I saw before," the commander
noted, "Clearly from a different classification."
   "They seem to be watching us," Brent observed with a trace of
trepidation.  "Look how they slowed down to match our own speed."
   Rollins stared at the rectangular shaped craft and took a breath,
"Fowler, activate all radio lines.  Let's find out if they're trying to
say anything to us or to Earth.  But don't answer them."
   "All lines activated," Fowler nodded.
   The three  astronauts only heard a faint crackle of static at first. 
And then, all of their heads perked up at the sound of a feminine voice
filling the cockpit.
   "--tention Earth spacecraft.  This is Major Athena of the Battlestar
Galactica.  If you can hear my signal, please acknowledge.  We are
completely friendly and mean you no harm."
   The three astronauts traded dubious glances with each other.
   "They're calling us an Earth spacecraft?" Fowler's eyes widened,
"Why would they do that if they're from Earth?"
   "I think the answer to that is obvious," Brent said, not believing
that another curve was being thrown at them, "They're not from Earth,
and they think we're part of what Earth is now."  He turned his
attention to Rollins, "This creates a bit of an awkward situation,
doesn't it, Skipper?"
   "It does," Rollins nodded and rubbed his chin, "I think we're going
to have to be honest with them." the commander then went over to his
console and flicked several switches before picking up the microphone.
   "Attention spacecraft, this is Colonel Philip Rollins, commander of
the U.S.S. Magellan II.  We acknowledge your message, and request that
you state the nature of your intentions and your mission."
   There was a brief silence as they waited to see if the ship would
answer.  The wait was not long.
   "Colonel, we thank you for answering us.  Our mission is entirely
peaceful.  We are emissaries of a brother tribe of humanity that wishes
to make contact with the people of Earth."
   "Skipper, I think our dilemma just got even more awkward," Fowler
said.
   "Indeed," the commander nodded.  "Now all of a sudden we're about to
become diplomats."
   He spoke into the microphone again, "Major Athena, we understand and
accept your message.  However, I'm afraid that we can't render
assistance to you as official emissaries.  Although we are from Earth,
we are involved in a complicated mission that has taken us from Earth's
distant past.  We strongly suggest that you attempt to make contact
with any communication stations on Earth itself."


   Aboard the shuttle, the expressions of shock and disbelief were
evident on both Athena and Cassiopeia, as well as Bernabe and Ares, who
had returned from the rear compartment.
   "Did they say what I think I heard them say?" Cassiopeia shook her
head in disbelief.
   "I heard it," Athena nodded, "They said they're from Earth's past. 
That they're not involved with what's down there now."
   "A planet with no signs of technology," Cassiopeia said, as the
reality of the situation hit her, "No wonder we were so confused."
   "That settles one question of what we're up against down there,"
Athena said as she hit her transmitter again, "Spacecraft Magellan II,
we thank you for the information.  Request that you stand by for now. 
We will be contacting you again shortly."
   Ten seconds later, a clear reply came back, "Understood.  Standing
by for now."
   Athena then activated her long-range scrambler, "Recon Shuttle One
to Galactica Core Command.  Priority One Alert.  I say again, Priority
One Alert."
   A micron later, Sheba's voice filled the shuttle's interior.  "This
is Core Command.  What's your status?"
   "Sheba," Athena drew in her breath, "Is Apollo on the bridge?"
   "Yes."
   "Tie him in to this, please.  It's urgent."
   There was a pause as Athena knew that Sheba was handing the
Commander a second headset. 
   "We're both tied in, Athena," her brother's voice said with concern,
"What's the situation?"
   "Apollo, I haven't got much time.  We've made contact with the
spacecraft.  Their crew is already awake from their sleep mode."
   "That's good," Apollo said, "Have you gotten anything out of them?"
   "Yes," Athena's voice grew flat, "Apollo, they say they're from
Earth's past.  Distant past.  They've come through some kind of time
barrier."
   The silence that filled the shuttle was the most deafening any of
the four people could remember.  They knew there was shock and
disbelief setting in on both the Commander and the Executive Officer.
   "Commander, I think nothing else needs to be said about which
Contingency Plan to break out," Athena radioed, her voice betraying no
emotion whatsoever, "Plan 3A, a primitive Earth with no technology is
going to have to be it."
   "Yes," she could hear her brother clearing his throat, summoning all
the professionalism he could muster, "All right, stay with them Athena. 
Find out as much as you possibly can, and maybe you can get that crew
to help in the search for Blue Patrol."
   "Affirmative," Athena could feel the emotional anxiety her brother
was going through, stretching across the reaches of space, "Signing off
for now."
   

   "You think they believe us?" Fowler had made his way over beside
Rollins's position, where the Commander was waiting to see when the
shuttle would send another message to them.
   "I don't know," the commander refused to speculate, "She sounds
friendly enough.  And if she's really human, that'll be a break for
us."
   "Humans not of this world," Brent shook his head in amazement,
"Someone tell me I'm dreaming."
   Just then, the static burst went up, indicating that a new message
was coming through, "Magellan II, this is Alpha Shuttlecraft of the
Battlestar Galactica.  If at all possible, we would like to stay with
you and discuss the possibility of working together on our respective
mission objectives once we land on Earth."
   Rollins lifted an eyebrow, "Uh, I think you said your name was
Major, ah...."
   "Major Athena."
   "Ah, Major Athena, I know this is hard to explain but we would not
be of much help to you if your goal is to contact the governments that
presently exist on Earth.  We come from her distant past and are on a
mission to rescue some friends of ours who also came through the time
barrier to our planet's future.  Once we accomplish that, we plan to
return to our time.  Again, we recommend that you contact Earth
directly."
   There was a brief pause before Athena responded.
   "Colonel Philip Rollins," she said the name as though it were one
word, which she had assumed it was since there were no surnames in
Colonial culture, "Is your craft capable of making scans of the planet
to determine what exists down there?"
   "Negative, Major," Rollins said as his fellow astronauts felt an
uneasy twinge inside them, "We're a very primitive spacecraft in terms
of our ability to take readings from up here."
   The sound of Athena letting out an uneasy exhale could be heard
before she spoke again.
   "I think, Colonel, that you and I have some important information we
need to share with each other," she was choosing her words with all the
careful precision of a skilled diplomat, summoning the instincts that
had served her father well for so many yahrens as a member and
President of the Council of Twelve.  "I will begin first by telling you
what it is we know about the Earth, as it is now."
   With that, a remarkable conversation between the two spacecrafts had
begun that would last unabated for the next twelve hours right up to
the point when both ships would land on the blue planet beneath them.


   Far away aboard the Galactica, both Apollo and Sheba had retreated
to his quarters.  The commander was grim-faced as he pulled out a
sealed folder from the lower-most drawer of his desk.
   "This is the one I didn't want to ever have to contemplate using,"
he sighed as he held the folder up, "Contingency Plan 3A."
   Seated across from him, Sheba found herself feeling more
philosophical than she'd expected herself to.  The events of the day
had forced her to think harder about the scenario than she ever had at
any other point in her life, and that meant that the news from Athena
hadn't been as much of a shock to her.
   "I guess the Ship Of Lights is putting us through another test
again," she finally spoke up, "The most difficult one we could have
hoped to face."
   "Especially with the Cylons right on our backs," Apollo grunted as
he broke the seal on the folder and spilled its contents out onto his
desk.  "All right Sheba, let's you and I get to work and start
assessing our options for what we do after the Patrols come back."
   His wife came up to him and gently squeezed his hand.
   "Apollo," her voice had an edge of longing to it, "This has been the
most difficult day of our lives, with our children missing and every
dream we've had about Earth shattered.  Before we do anything else,
I....." she trailed off, unable to say anything else.
   For the first time all day, Apollo allowed himself a little smile.
   "At this point, one lousy centar to ourselves can't hurt," he said
as he got up from his chair and took her in his arms, "We've earned the
right to it."

                    Chapter Six

   Boxey made certain that his goggles were at the highest possible
setting as he slowly descended into the black void that loomed before
him.  The cave's incline seemed to descend at a forty-five degree
angle.  Just enough to tell him that if he wasn't careful he could end
up sliding down to the bottom and losing all of his precious survival
gear in the process.
   He had gone more than a hundred feet when he felt the ground beneath
him level off to an even plane.  He had reached the bottom of the cave. 
Around him, he could begin to make out the contours of the rock
formations surrounding him.  Ahead of him, he could tell that the
blackness was starting to dissipate slightly.  There seemed to be an
unnatural glow in the distance.  Whether it was caused by artificial
lights or something else, he couldn't tell.
   The Galactica warrior kept his steps slow and gentle as he made his
way toward the brighter area.  He didn't even bother using his scanner
at this point.  If it wasn't dead, as he suspected it wasn't, then
whatever existed down here, wasn't going to let him take a reading.
   He felt his foot brush against what seemed like a rock.  But when he
glanced down, he felt a chill go through him when he saw that it was a
human skull, still attached to an incomplete skeleton.  So brittle were
the bones, that Boxey's brief contact had shattered the entire right
side into dust.
   Lovely, he thought grimly as he moved on.  The light was steadily
getting brighter.  Cautiously, he lifted his goggles and saw that the
same reddish glow he'd seen through the infra-red was what also filled
the cave's interior.  All of it emanating from where the cave's path
veered off to the left.  To the right, there was no glow at all.
   Nothing natural is causing this, he thought.  It's as though they've
made it this way so I can find my way around.  As if it's telling me to
go that way.    
   He took the turn to the left and found himself descending another
forty-five degree slope for approximately fifty feet.  When he reached
the bottom, he saw to his amazement that he'd stumbled into a vast,
cathedral-like opening, with no barriers for as far as the eye could
see, and the natural ceiling representing the surface of the planet
more than five hundred feet above.  And lining the interior of the open
space were the clear indications of ruins.  Ruins of some bygone
civilization.
   Boxey had seen holopictures brought back from the mother planet
Kobol, where his mother Serina had met her death, and had often
marveled at the sight of the ancient ruins they had depicted.  Even
after 7000 yahrens, the ruins of Kobol still possessed an aura of
stately grandeur to them that conjured up the vision of a once proud
civilization.  That wasn't the case with these ruins.  They had a
dirty, seedy quality of neglect to them, as though whatever
civilization this had once been was hiding itself in shame from the
world that existed now.
   He shut off his mind from posing any of the questions that he might
have asked upon seeing these ruins.  So far, the Earth had been so full
of unexpected surprises that he was past the point where he felt he
could make any reasonable inferences about anything.
   He could see the broken columns of walls rising up from the ground
and tapering off at a point no more than twenty feet high, suggesting
that there had once been a building situated here.  A, flat stone
surface suggested that this had once been some kind of floor or walkway
for the building.  Acres of rotted paper debris lined the floor.  Boxey
didn't bother picking any of it up.  There was no chance of being able
to read any of it in these conditions.
   To his left, he could see the floor disappear and could see  tiny
columns of twisted metal snaking up from dead, stagnant overgrowth.  It
almost seemed to Boxey that the metal columns were neatly aligned into
twelve separate rows as though they had once been roadways for
transport vehicles of some kind.
   He was tempted to see where those pathways led to, but he noticed
that the red glow that had guided him in didn't cast its light in that
direction.  Instead, it continued to shine from deeper inside the
chamber, as though it were telling him to move that way.
   For now, he was going to go wherever it led to.  He resumed walking
across the stone surface and could see some more pieces of wreckage
bolted down to the floor.  He stopped beside each piece trying to gauge
what it was.  First he noticed the rusted remains of an iron gate
extending across the rest of the perimeter.  At various intervals, he
could see some rectangular shaped posts dotting the surface, as though
there was one for each of the roadways he'd seen.  He came up to one of
them, and stared at it for a long time.  There was clearly some writing
on it.  Not engraved writing.  It was as if someone had attached some
raised letters and numbers in an arrangement.  Some of them had fallen
away over the many yahrens of neglect, making what they spelled and
said even more incomprehensible to Boxey.  But if he were making an
educated guess, it almost reminded him of a primitive kind of
transportation timetable.

     NEW JERSEY TRANSIT
     HOBOKEN STATION
     TRACK 3 
     DOVER EXPRESS      5:43
      NEWARK
      MAPLEWOOD
      MILBURN
      SHORT HILLS
      SUMMIT
      CHATHAM
      MADISON
      CONVENT STATION
      MORRISTOWN
      DOVER

   This had to be some kind of station like the Aerodromes that he
could remember as a child on Caprica during the pre-Holocaust days. 
But it didn't look as though it serviced air transportation.  It seemed
more like it handled ground transportation.  Primitive ground
transportation that the Colonies hadn't used for at least several
thousand yahrens.
   A blast of cool air suddenly came up from somewhere behind him.  He
turned around and saw that it came from an opening where the red glow
was at its brightest.  Without giving the sign another thought, he
headed towards the opening and could see an intact stairway leading
down.  Above the stairway, a grimy sign still hung from the top of the
opening.  PATH TRAINS TO 33rd STREET.
   Boxey descended the steps and found himself on a platform
overlooking two sets of roadway tracks, each one leading into a tunnel
that stretched far off into the distance.  He noticed that the one on
the right, which said JOURNAL SQUARE/WORLD TRADE CENTER TRAINS led off
into a void of total blackness.  The one on the left though, which was
marked by a sign that said 33rd STREET TRAINS was where the red glow
still continued to cast its beckoning light.
   The Galactica warrior took a deep breath as he dropped ten feet down
to the vegetation covered track surface, and began his journey into the
silent tunnel.


   Hera felt relieved that Earth's moon was shining above her, as she
made her way through the tall field grass in a westerly direction. 
Without nightvision goggles, it was difficult to be certain which way
she was going.  The moon's glow at least enabled her to stay on a
straight path through the field grass and not make a wrong turn back
into one of the two forests bordering the area.
   Her respite had left her well-rested to the point where she had
little trouble maintaining a quick, running pace.  After sprinting more
than two miles, she didn't even feel out of breath as she stopped to
take a scan reading, making sure that the silencer was on so there
wouldn't be any loud pings that would attract attention to her.
   It only took a half-micron for contacts to register.  As soon as she
pointed her scanner toward the northwest, the readings began dancing
about wildly, indicating a large concentration of lifeforms.  Some
human, but mostly non-human.
   That has to be it, she looked ahead.  Keep going through the field
for another two miles, and then go through one more forest region.  The
so-called Ape City was certain to be on the other side.
   And one thing was certain in her mind.  She was going to bring
Starbuck out of there, or join him as a prisoner of the siminoids.


   "Won't you sit down?" Zira motioned toward the large chair in the
middle of the living room.
   Starbuck stared at her and Cornelius with the same air of guarded
suspicion he'd been showing since he'd been led out by the leash from
Dr. Zaius's office.
   "I'd be happy to," he finally spoke, "Would it be too much though if
I could have these stupid things off?" he raised his manacled hands.
   Zira nodded, "Of course.  Cornelius?"
   Her husband hesitated at first, since he wasn't as confident as Zira
that kindness was going to have much of an impact on someone as
eccentric as Starbuck.  But he wasn't in the mood to provoke her at
this point, so he stepped up and untied the ropes around Starbuck's
wrists.
   "Thank you," the human sighed with relief as he held up his freed
arms and stretched them a bit before sitting down.
   "Get him something to eat, dear," Zira motioned to Cornelius, "We
should have some salad in the preserver."
   Cornelius nodded and disappeared into the kitchen while Zira sat
down in the chair directly across from Starbuck.
   "Starbuck," she put her furry hands on her knees, "Try to understand
that Cornelius and I want to be your friends and do what we can to help
you get away from this place.  You wouldn't be the first human we've
helped escape."
   "This Taylor person?" Starbuck kept his tone neutral, hoping that he
could get as much information as he possibly could about any
intelligent humans on this planet.
   "Yes," she nodded, "I'm really surprised you don't know him."
   "I explained that.  I don't know a single person on this planet."
   "Oh come now," Cornelius said with disgust as he emerged from the
kitchen holding a salad bowl filled with lettuce, carrots and tomatoes. 
"Taylor said the same silly thing about traveling through space from
another planet.  It's a scientific absurdity."
   Starbuck took the bowl from Cornelius along with a fork and began to
eat very carefully.  As soon as he had finished three bites, he looked
up at him quizzically.  "This Taylor person said he traveled through
space too?"
   "He did," Zira glared slightly at her husband, "He spoke of flying
through space in a ship from a distant planet and crashing in the
Inland Sea, in the Forbidden Zone."
   "Utter nonsense!" Cornelius snorted, "I think Taylor was suffering
some memory lapse from his wounds.  We know he came from the Forbidden
Zone, just as you must as well."
   As soon as Starbuck realized how good the vegetables tasted, he
began to rapidly devour the rest of the bowl's contents.  When it was
empty, he handed the bowl and fork back to Cornelius.
   "Let me ask you something, pal," Starbuck felt some of his strength
coming back, "What makes you think he wasn't telling the truth?  Just
because siminoids don't know how to fly through space doesn't mean that
someone else hasn't figured out how that's done."
   "Ridiculous!" Cornelius wrinkled his muzzle.
   "I could always show you the three ships my friends and I came in,"
he leaned forward, "And within a few days, I can guarantee you that
there's going to be more people in flying machines tearing this planet
up to look for us."
   "Starbuck, that's why you must help us," an edge of urgency entered
Zira's voice, "Your friends, wherever they come from, can not make
their presence known in Ape City.  If the gorillas see them, they will
mobilize our society for total war.  We can't let that happen!"
   "Zira," Starbuck said in a polite, but pointed tone, "When they
come, you won't have to worry about your society because the war would
be a total massacre in our favor.  If those primitive numo guns
represent the best your society has to offer, then it wouldn't take us
more than a few days to overrun the lot of you."
   The two chimpanzees stiffened in horror in their chairs.  An angry
scowl came over Cornelius's face, while Zira seemed merely shocked.
   "Starbuck," she whispered, "You don't mean that."
   "I do," he said bluntly, "Even if I didn't feel like doing that, I
can guarantee that there are others, whether in our chain-of-command,
or on our governing Council, who will immediately demand that your
whole society be leveled.  And nothing I say or do is going to change
that."
   "You are a barbarian!" Cornelius said angrily, "How can you think of
doing such a thing?"
   Starbuck gave him a faint smirk with the faintest tinge of
malevolence, "I think that when you see brother members of your own
race hunted down like animals and then locked up in cages, carried
around on leashes, and then discover that a girl you've known since the
day she was born and raised like a niece was shot down in cold blood,
it doesn't leave much room for other options in your mind."
   "We'd be more than happy to leave your kind alone, if you will
simply stay away from our city!" Cornelius said, "Live and let live,
Starbuck.  Find other opportunities elsewhere for your race."
   "Not when I see our brothers treated the way you treat them,"
Starbuck said coldly, "My oath as a Captain in the Colonial Military,
swears to protect and defend human life against all its enemies that
seek to destroy and enslave humanity.  Up until now, I've only had to
honor that oath against one despicable race.  But there are qualities
in your race that almost make me think it's worse."
   "Starbuck," it took all the self-control Zira had ever mustered in
her life to keep from losing her temper, "Please.  Let's both stop
making speeches at each other and just agree to share what we know to
each other.  If we all know where we stand, we can settle this matter
and you can be freed this very night."
   "Where I come from, I don't believe in showing all my cards ahead of
time," Starbuck said, "And since you've already indicated that you're
not going to accept me for what I am, there's little point in my saying
anything else."
   "All right Starbuck, suppose I said that I believe you when you say
you came from another planet," Zira decided to try a new tact, "Would
that help?"
   "Zira!" Cornelius looked at his wife in amazement.
   "It'd be a start," Starbuck leaned back in the chair.  "But I'd like
to hear more about this Taylor person first."
   A man of considerably more dignity than you, Cornelius thought.
   "Very well," Zira felt that if she made the first move, it might
build some trust, "Taylor was a remarkable man.  We found him one day
after he'd been captured during one of the gorillas' hunt...."
   It took Zira almost fifteen minutes to effectively summarize the
whole story about Taylor as they had seen it.  When the two chimpanzees
had finished, Starbuck was looking both philosophical and downcast.
   "So you're saying there was once a large human civilization of some
kind in this so-called Forbidden Zone."
   "Yes," Cornelius nodded, "My findings indicated that the human
civilization was overrun no later than a thousand years ago.  The point
in time when our Lawgiver wrote the Sacred Scrolls documenting the rise
of Ape Civilization."
   The Galactica warrior rubbed his chin, "I'm beginning to see how it
fits," he whispered, "I couldn't understand how, but...."
   "But what?" Zira asked.
   "The Thirteenth Tribe destroyed itself," Starbuck said aloud to
himself, and not to them
   "What?" Cornelius pressed, "What are you talking about?"
   Starbuck looked them both in the eye, "Zira," he said, "If you
believe me when I say that I come from a race of humans that has
traveled in space, then you will believe this.  My people were
journeying to this planet in search of a brother tribe of humanity that
first settled this planet more than 7000 of our yahrens, what I think
you would call 'years' ago.  If what you say is true, then it seems
that my people have arrived more than a thousand yahrens too late."
   "You mean even far away on that other planet, you were aware of the
ancient civilization?"  the archeologist was amazed.
   "Yes," Starbuck said flatly, "And that is why my people can not just
stand idly by and permit humans to be treated as you treat them.  They
are our brothers.  Descendants of the very same people that I am
descended from."
   "But Starbuck," Zira protested, "You have to see things from our
perspective.  Before Taylor, there was never any reason to believe that
humans were capable of the same intelligence as apes.  Only Dr. Zaius
and his predecessors know the truth, and they've kept that hidden from
our society.  When the rest of us guide humans around on a leash, it's
because we haven't know any better."
   "How do you treat apes or 'siminoids' as you call them, in your
society, Starbuck?" Cornelius zeroed in.  "In all likelihood, you treat
them far worse than we treat humans."
   "Only because where I come from, siminoids are beasts of prey who
enjoy killing all other species they come across."  Starbuck retorted. 
"And that's the chief reason why we didn't bring any with us when we
began our journey."
   "Why did you leave your home?" Zira tried to steer the conversation
back, "Why would you travel so far across space just to find this
planet?"
   "Very complicated story," Starbuck said, "Suffice to say, you will
soon realize that you're going to need humans to become your protectors
instead of your enemies.  And if that's going to happen, you're going
to have to have your society change it's tune when it comes to treating
humans."
   "And why would we need 'protection' from humans?" Cornelius didn't
bother concealing his contempt.
   "Because there's another race that hates humans even more than you
siminoids do," Starbuck found himself grinning malevolently, "And
should they end up finding this planet, they'll treat you with about as
much compassion as they show towards us.  The only reason why we've
been searching for our brothers is because of what our enemy did to our
home planets."
   And for the next fifteen minutes, it was Starbuck's turn to
monopolize the conversation, with a telescopic account of the war
between humanity and the Cylon Empire, the Holocaust and the Exodus. 
When he was finished, the incredulous expressions on both Cornelius and
Zira were greater than any that Starbuck could ever have recalled
seeing on any living creature in his life.  They had the same
expressions he might have expected to see if he had declared that he
was God Himself.
   "You're talking about a race of.....automatic machines?" Cornelius
found the concept of the Cylon race to be the most incredible aspect of
Starbuck's account.
   "Modified to the human/siminoid bipedal model," Starbuck wished he
had a fumarello he could take a satisfied puff on, "Not capable of much
independent thought, but programmed to exterminate all life forms and
make the entire known universe a race of machine efficiency.  They're
searching for us, and they're searching for this planet, Earth."
   "If they are your enemy, I can almost envision warriors like Ursus
attempting to forge an alliance with them," Zira said.
   "And they just might be able to do that.  But only temporarily,"
Starbuck said emphatically, "The Cylons don't keep long-standing
alliances with anyone.  Once an ally outlives his usefulness, he is
disposed of."
   At that point, Cornelius threw up his arms in exasperation and began
angrily pacing about the living room.
   "Zira, why are we indulging this deranged fool with his nonsensical
claptrap?" he demanded, "Do you really think Dr. Zaius would believe
this?"
   "It doesn't matter if he believes it or not," Starbuck said coolly,
"It happens to be the truth."
   "Ridiculous!" the archeologist snorted, "You're protecting your own
people who live in the Forbidden Zone.  Well the only way you can
protect them, and yourself Starbuck, is to promise to go back and tell
them to stay away from Ape City!"
   "Sorry," Starbuck shook his head, "No can do."
   "You're signing your death warrant, Starbuck," Cornelius said
pointedly, "Do you know what Dr. Zaius meant when he talked about
having you destroyed?"
   "I have some ideas."
   "Tell him Zira," Cornelius looked at his wife, "Tell him what Dr.
Zaius did to Taylor's talking friend.  The one he called Landon."
   Zira swallowed uneasily and seem visibly uncomfortable.
   "Well---" she started and then stopped.
   "Tell him!" Cornelius repeated.
   The psychologist took a breath, "Experimental brain surgery."
   "I can handle that," Starbuck felt comfortable enough to make a
comeback, "I've been slipping in my IQ tests lately anyway."
   "This is no joke!" Zira raised her voice with concern, "Brain
surgery that would rob you of your intelligence completely!  You'd be a
walking animal just like all the other humans we know."
   "Followed by castration to insure that no other intelligent humans
are ever recreated," Cornelius put in.
   Starbuck tried not to flinch, "I think I'll pass."
   "Then save yourself, Starbuck!" Zira found herself pleading.  She'd
seen a lot in this human that was crude and eccentric in comparison to
what she'd seen in Taylor, but she still found him strangely likable in
an odd sort of way.  "Please, cooperate!  Whether you come from the
Forbidden Zone or from another planet, just have your people stay away
and find someplace else to settle.  Some other planet perhaps!"
   "That decision is not mine to make," the Galactica warrior's voice
became dead serious again, "And knowing our leader as I do, he's not
going to abandon this planet that easily.  But even if it were my
decision, I know I'd do the same thing.  The persecution of a single
human, whether intelligent or not, is something that my society can not
stand for."
   Zira let out a sigh and slouched down in her chair, suggesting that
she felt defeated.
   "I can't do anything more for you, Starbuck," she said with regret,
"I've done what I can.  If you don't do as Zaius says, then he has no
choice but to go ahead with the surgery.  General Ursus can't have any
proof to give to the Assembly."
   "You'd only be buying yourself very little time," Starbuck retorted,
"Because my people are going to arrive in larger numbers very soon, and
like it or not, your society can not defeat us.  The only message I can
take to my Commander and our Council is that there might be some of you
willing to negotiate with us as friends we can work with."
   "Starbuck, we can't do that!" Cornelius said, "Dr. Zaius and the
orangutans are the ones who control the Ruling Class.  Their hatred for
humans is only slightly less than that of the gorillas.  If it were up
to me, I'd probably take that up.  But we chimpanzees are powerless!"
   "Are you?" Starbuck decided to go on the offensive, "If a gorilla
like Ursus can make an argument before the Assembly, then why not
chimpanzees like you?  Make a speech of your own calling for peace and
accommodation with humans instead of war."
   "There's no way it would work," the archeologist's voice grew grave,
"Chimpanzees have always been too docile by instinct.  We...lack the
fire to be leaders."
   Zira suddenly glared at her husband.
   "You lack the fire to lead and do unpleasant tasks!" she slammed her
furry paw against the arm of her chair, "But maybe Starbuck is right. 
Maybe it's time we chimpanzees did take matters into our own hands. 
And maybe the opportunity for doing that is letting Starbuck live so we
can make a case of our own before the Assembly."
   "We'd be risking prison, Zira!" Cornelius shot back.
   "Not if we get others to act with us!" the psychologist got up from
her chair and thoughtfully looked Starbuck over.  
   "Starbuck," she said quietly, "If we were able to hide you for the
next two days before the Assembly, you'd be safe from Dr. Zaius.  And
then when the Assembly meets, we could have you be there so we can make
the case that we need to meet your people in friendship instead of
war."
   "But you can't guarantee my safety beyond that," the warrior noted,
"And besides, if you had me hidden, what would be there to stop me from
just walking away back to my ship?"
   "Starbuck, please," Zira almost pleaded, "If you don't help us at
least, then you will be destroyed.  Dr. Zaius won't spare your life
unless you tell him things that you won't, or can't tell about the
Forbidden Zone.  But if you let us hide you so we can produce you at
the Assembly, we have a chance."
   "What do you need me for anyway?"
   "Because we can't get anywhere with the Assembly unless you're
there," Zira said, "And I can't recruit any allies amongst the
chimpanzees unless they get a chance to talk to you beforehand."
   Starbuck glared at them both.  There was one part of him that told
him he should take a chance trusting Zira.  But he was still too filled
with anger over the death of Hera and his innate revulsion for
siminoids in general to be willing to do that.
   "You just want to use me as a tool," he said flatly, "Either way,
whether it's the gorillas or you, I'm just a pawn in a power struggle."
   "Which way would you rather be used, Starbuck?" Zira folded her
arms, "Our way, you have a chance.  Their way, you're either a dead man
or a walking dead man.  Show some sense, for God's sake!"
   It was almost beyond Starbuck's comprehension that creatures as ugly
as these could be invoking the name of the Supreme Deity.  He continued
glaring at them both and kept silent.
   "Zira, he's hopeless," Cornelius said, "You won't get anything out
of this one."
   "Perhaps," his wife conceded, "Perhaps not.  Maybe a few hours with
his fellow humans will make him see why he should cooperate with us." 
   Starbuck started to rise from his chair, but before he was half-way
up, Cornelius abruptly pulled out a pistol from his tunic that he'd
kept hidden up until this point.
   "Don't even try," the archeologist said coldly.  He kept the pistol
aimed at Starbuck's chest while Zira went over and reattached the
manacles to the human's hands.
   "Where am I off to now?" the sarcasm dripped heavily from Starbuck's
voice.
   "To my laboratory," Zira said as she tightened the bonds, "That's
where I keep all the humans I experiment on.  Spend the night with
them, Starbuck and maybe you'll see why it's imperative that your best
interest is to cooperate with us."
   "Sounds lovely," he said, "How much do you charge for a night's
stay?"
   Zira said nothing as she clamped the muzzle over Starbuck's mouth
and pulled it back so he was incapable of uttering a sound.
   "Thank you," Cornelius said with relief, "This is one talking human
I don't care to hear from much longer."
   "I'm sorry I have to do this," Zira ignored her husband and finished
securing the manacles and muzzle, "But if you utter a sound while
you're in your cell, then you'll be destroyed on the spot."
   A moment later, Starbuck again felt himself being pulled about on a
leash, wondering what sin he'd committed against the Lord to bring this
about.

   Boxey estimated that he'd gone a mile inside the dark tunnel, and
wondered how it was possible that he wasn't suffocating after going so
far and so deep underground.  But no sooner had he expressed that
thought when he felt another blast of cool air come from somewhere far
off in the distance.
   I am being watched, he thought.  And whatever it is that's guided me
inside is also trying to reassure me that it's perfectly safe.
   But watched by what?  Siminoids?  Humans?  Or, God forbid, something
else?  Something that would make this planet even more hideous than it
already was?
   He stopped in his tracks when he saw that the tunnel was blocked by
the remains of one of the transport vehicles that had once traveled
through these tunnels.  They almost had the same symmetrical contours
as an ancient skybus.  But these vehicles had been meant for travel on
the ground, not through the air.
   Which meant that whatever civilization this had been, had never
gotten further than the equivalent of the fifth millennia in terms of
Colonial technology.
   He knew he would have to make his way through the remains of the
craft and see if he could resume his trek on the other side.   Feeling
relieved that the pain in his leg wasn't as bothersome as it had been,
he hoisted himself up onto the platform of the vehicle.  There had once
been a door of some kind, but it had long since fallen away and he was
able to enter the compartment.
   He saw two rows of bench-like seats on both sides of the
compartment, and what looked like the rusted remains of hand straps
above the seats, probably for the benefit of passengers who weren't
able to use the seats when the vehicle was crowded.
   There were large amounts of paper debris littering the floor and
faded pictures of what reminded him of advertising slogans lining the
walls.  Across one seat was a yellowed object that almost reminded him
of what a news journal looked like.  As the son of a renowned
journalist, he had made a point of studying the history of journalism
and communications when he was growing up.
   He picked it up and tried to see if it was legible under the dim
light of the red glow.  There was a bold headline across the top that
Boxey guessed was the name of the news journal: NEW YORK TIMES.  Next
to it, a slogan that said in smaller type, "All The News That's Fit To
Print."
   That answers one question, he thought.  The name of this city was
New York.
   He could see numbers that didn't seem to mean anything.  January 17,
1998.  But underneath that, was a boldly written paragraph that he knew
designated the way of highlighting a major story.  U.S. RECALLS
AMBASSADOR FROM MOSCOW.  PUBLIC BRACES OVER POSSIBLE WAR SCARE.
   War, he thought with a sense of horror.  Was that what had destroyed
this civilization, long ago?  War amongst the humans that had
constituted the Thirteenth Tribe?
   It seemed all too likely.  If this was the last news journal anyone
aboard this transport had been able to read, then it seemed all too
likely that war had come.
   And did that explain why siminoids now ran the planet?
   He tossed the paper aside and made his way to the end of the
compartment.  His face fell slightly when he realized that this
compartment was adjacent to another.
   This is going to take longer than I thought, he grunted as he pulled
open a sliding door that connected the two compartments.  But there's
no turning back at this point.


   "Keep your eye on this one, Lucius," Cornelius said as soon as the
cell door inside Zira's laboratory zoo had been closed and Starbuck
shoved inside.  "Above all, make certain his muzzle doesn't come off. 
If he shows any sign of making a sound, you're to use a tranquilizer
immediately."
   Zira's teenaged nephew, who worked as a lab assistant frowned, "Why
would he----" then stopped as he realized what Cornelius meant.  "You
mean he's like Taylor?"
   "Keep your voice down," Cornelius said angrily, "Just don't take
your eyes off him until morning.  Zira and I will pick him up then."
   "What does this mean?" the young chimpanzee protested.
   "Not now," his uncle said sternly, "After it's all over, we'll
explain."
   "Come on!" Lucius protested, "I've been as involved with the whole
Taylor thing as much as you and Zira have."
   "Lucius, your youthful rebelliousness is an admirable trait in many
respects," Cornelius gently admonished, "But for tonight, it does you
no credit.  Just watch him and make sure he doesn't say anything.  And
don't breathe a word about what he is to anyone who shows up here,
especially anyone from the Ministry of Science."
   "Very well," Lucius shrugged bitterly, "I'll watch.  Where are you
and Zira off to?"
   "Some important meetings with friends," the archeologist said
cryptically, "That's all."
   Cornelius turned and departed the room.  Alone, Lucius sat down in
the chair situated in the middle of the compound.  It enabled him to
keep an eye on all of the humans kept inside the various cages
throughout the room.  This night, there were nine humans, six male,
three female sprawled across the bales of straw that had been set up in
each cage.  It was always customary after each hunt to bring a quota of
humans to the Animal Research Center for analysis and study.  After
conducting various experiments, Zira would then pair up various males
and females for mating purposes to conduct further studies on the
offspring.
   The less fortunate humans, those who performed badly in the
experiments or exhibited violent tendencies, invariably ended up
dissected for medical research.
   The young chimpanzee spent an hour reading a copy of the information
scrolls that were distributed every day to provide news of upcoming
events in Ape City.  Then, it became time to distribute the food to the
humans.  Each one was entitled to one piece of fruit and a lump of
sugar.  "Energy sustenance", his aunt had described it.
   As he handed out the food, he was greeted to a process that always
repeated itself.  A human violently rising from his perch inside his
cave.  Clawing madly at the bars with hands outstretched and then
clutching the proffered food and devouring it with the instincts of a
carnivore.
   When he came to the most recent arrival though, he took note of how
Starbuck simply remained planted where he was, and made no effort to
get up and take the food.  The fact that he was bound and muzzled
shouldn't have stopped him, unless he was exactly what Lucius had
suspected he was.
   A mischievous smile came over the young chimpanzee's face as he took
out his keys and unlocked Starbuck's cell door.  He came over to the
grizzled warrior and calmly removed his manacles.
   "I'll tell you what," Lucius said, "I'll remove your muzzle if you
promise not to talk if anyone else enters the room.  Deal?"
   Starbuck vigorously nodded and held up his arms to re-emphasize his
acceptance.  Lucius then took hold of the muzzle string and undid it.
   "Ahhh," Starbuck grunted and rubbed his chin which had been
blistered from the muzzle's tightness, "Thanks."
   "Don't mention it," Lucius shrugged as he deposited the fruit and
sugar and made a quick exit from the cell, remembering to lock it
again.  The Galactica warrior picked it up and devoured it quickly, and
moved over to the bars.
   "What'd you do that for anyway?" Starbuck cautiously spoke up.
   "I get bored easily with this job," Lucius said, "I only took it to
make my aunt feel happy.  I might as well have someone to talk to, to
pass the night away."  he then seemed to smirk, "And besides, I was
once told by someone just like you to never trust anyone over thirty
and to keep the flags of discontent flying."
   "Lucky for you, I'm not sleepy," Starbuck said as he looked about at
the sad spectacle of all the other humans locked in their cages.  "Are
they all like this?"
   "All humans?" Lucius looked about, "Actually, these are the best of
the lot.  You have to be in a special classification to be examined by
the staff here."
   "And the ones who don't come here?"
   "The gorillas keep the bulk of them for target practice exercises."
   Starbuck shook his head in amazed disgust as he rubbed the back of
his stiff neck.  He then noticed that Lucius had pulled out what looked
like a fumarello to him and was preparing to light it.
   "Hey," Starbuck motioned, "You wouldn't have any extras of those,
would you?"
   Lucius stopped before he lit it and frowned, "You smoke?"
   "Those are my favorite kinds."
   The young chimpanzee reached into his pocket and handed Starbuck
another cigar.  As soon as the warrior had stuck it in his mouth,
Lucius used a match to light it.
   Starbuck took a grateful puff and then settled back on the bales of
straw with the first feeling of contentment he'd known since his
captivity began.  It was not a good quality fumarello by his usual
standards, but at this point it was like nectar from the gods to him.
   "So are you a friend of Taylor's?" Lucius settled back in his chair
directly across from Starbuck's cell.
   "No," he took a puff, "Though the more I hear about him, the more
I'd like to meet him."
   "He's a strange one," Lucius said.  "But a lot more likable than
most apes I've known."
   "Glad to hear that," Starbuck grinned slightly, "Maybe there's hope
for some of you after all."
   "Is there any hope for humans like you?" the young chimpanzee
matched his tone, "So far, the only thing you seem versed in is getting
thrown into a cage."
   Right away, Starbuck found himself liking the young guard.  He
didn't try to wrap things up in platitudes like Zira, Cornelius and
Zaius did.
   "What's your name?" he asked.
   "Lucius."
   "Starbuck," he extended his hand through the bars.  The young
chimpanzee might ordinarily have been puzzled by the gesture, had it
not been for the fact that Taylor had done the same thing when he'd
said goodbye to them.  This time, he was ready to reach out and accept
the proffered handshake.
   "So tell me Lucius," Starbuck took another puff, "Does your society
know anything about gambling?"
   "Gambling?" his eyes widened, "That's a vice for gorillas to indulge
in."
   "Hey, not all vices are bad," Starbuck chided gently, "A good card
game can do wonders for the nerves."
   "Not all card games are gambling."
   "What kind of card games do you play?"
   "Gin rummy.  Hearts.  They never let me try poker."
   None of those games struck any familiar chords with Starbuck.  "Your
culture doesn't know anything about pyramid?"
   "Pyramid?" Lucius frowned, "What does a pyramid have to do with
cards?"
   "Where I come from it's the best kind of card game," Starbuck kept
his hands wrapped around the bars of his cell, "If you've never heard
of it, then I guess your cards wouldn't be the same as the ones we
use."
   "I'll go get a pack from the next room," the young chimpanzee got up
and dashed along the corridor that led to Zira's main laboratory.
   Alone, Starbuck took a quick survey of his cage.  There was no
window along the back wall, which meant he couldn't think of escaping
through there.  If he had to make a move, it had to be through the
front way.
   That meant gaining Lucius's trust, and then betraying it.  It almost
made him feel guilty since he sensed that the young chimpanzee guard
was basically a decent sort.  But he had no intention of remaining a
prisoner in this godforsaken community of siminoids.  He wasn't going
to let himself be used by any of the siminoid factions, be they
chimpanzees, gorillas or orangutans.  His only duty was to escape and
get back in contact with the Galactica so they could have some hard
information.
   He intended to be out of this place before Cornelius and Zira came
back to collect him.


   The illuminated screen of Hera's scanner told her that she was very
close to the large concentration of non-human contacts.  All that stood
between her and it was one more trek through a forest perimeter and
she'd be there.
   She shut off the scanner, reattached it to her holster and pulled
out her laser pistol.  It was time to be prepared as she'd never been
prepared before.  She calmly adjusted the pistol to the kill setting. 
Seeing the siminoids kill with such ease gave her no moral qualms
whatsoever about killing them in turn.
   It took her five centons to make her way through the forest as
stealthily as she could.  When she emerged on the other side, she could
see the dim lights of torches and lamps from somewhere off in the
distance.
   Jackpot, she smiled with satisfaction.  The Ape City has to be down
there.  And so is Starbuck.
   She sprawled herself out in the grass as she peered down to try and
get a better sense of the terrain and the specific landmarks.  The
lights of what she assumed was the City were furthest away, probably
two or three miles.  Close by though, there were lights set up in a
round circle.  There was clearly some kind of nearby compound.
   She decided to check the nearby lights first.  She crawled on her
stomach for more than a hundred feet to try and get close enough to see
what the compound represented, and if it was some kind of holding area
for human prisoners.
   The closer she got, the more she could hear the murmurings of
voices.
   "....but tomorrow, I want to get a full session of target practice
in with these scum," one voice was saying, "I haven't been doing well
at all lately.  The Captain's threatened to revoke my marksman status."
   "Relax Gaius," another voice said reassuringly, "You'll do better."
   "Hey," a third voice joined in, "Who's up for feeding the humans
right now?"
   "I'll do it," the one called Gaius said, "I like watching those
smelly beasts scurry about.  It's practically the only entertainment we
can ever get."
   Another light went up as Hera realized that one of them had picked
up a torch of his own.  She could see that it was a gorilla carrying a
basket of fruit in the other hand walking toward what she was certain
was where the humans were kept prisoner in preparation for target
practice.
   She kept her eye on the gorilla called Gaius as he walked up to some
kind of large cage.  Thanks to the light from his torch, Hera could see
what appeared to be a cluster of at least a dozen humans locked inside,
aimlessly milling about.
   "All right, you unsanitary dregs," he taunted, "Fatten yourselves up
for tomorrow."  he then tossed the basket's contents through the bars
and began to laugh a typically simian laugh as he watched the humans
suddenly scurry about to try and get at the food.  Those who were
unsuccessful began to attack the ones who had picked up a piece.
   Enough of this felgercarb, Hera thought as she suddenly got to her
feet and took aim at the still-laughing Gaius.
   A red burst of laser fire streaked across the field and caught the
gorilla square in the head, causing him to drop his torch as he fell to
the ground.  It shattered and caused a fire to break out immediately.
   "What's happened?" one of the other gorillas shouted.
   Hera took aim at the bars of the cage and opened fire again.  She
unleashed two blasts, making certain that a large hole had been blasted
open in the side of the cage.  Just as she hoped, the humans inside
began to dash out into the prison compound.
   "They're loose!" another gorilla screamed, "They're loose!  Round
them up immediately!"
   Hera then took aim at the two torchlights where the voices came
from.  Her blast took them out and plunged the entire complex into
darkness.
   "Relight the torches!  We can't do anything without them!"
   "Sir, where are the guns?"
   "Get them!  Don't let them escape!"
   Hera dropped down into the grass and smiled in triumph.  Just as
she'd hoped, the siminoids had been so distracted by the escaping
humans that they weren't even bothering to take note of where the laser
fire had come from.
   At least thirty humans had scattered into the compound, leaving the
gorillas totally off-guard to take action, since they didn't keep
themselves armed at night.  Instead, they spent more time frantically
groping about in the dark to get their rifles out of their storage
mounts.  But during that time, all the humans had managed to
effectively make good in their escape.
   Through the moonlight, Hera saw that the cluster was headed in the
direction of the city.  She realized that this was her opportunity to
get there as well, as she dashed down the hillside and caught up to the
tail-end of the freed captives that now bore down on Ape City like a
wild pack of equines.


   "You're saying we need to take a public stand on behalf of the
humans at the Assembly meeting?" Dr. Galen's eyes widened in disbelief
as soon as he and the rest of the twelve chimpanzees gathered had heard
Zira finish.
   "We're talking about a stance against war," Zira said emphatically,
"A stance against a senseless campaign of war that we have no guarantee
of winning, if what this Starbuck person says is true."
   "And you really believe him when he says he comes from the other end
of the galaxy?" this came from Sylvan, a professor at one of the Ape
Schools.
   "Certainly not," Zira shook her head, "Common sense tells us that
part of his story is as ridiculous as it was in Taylor's story.  But
when he says that he comes from a tribe of almost 70,000 intelligent
humans, I for one am inclined to believe that."
   "And if that is true, then we can immediately see why it's
imperative that we take a stance against war," Cornelius said, having
become a reluctant convert to his wife's crusade.  "Our own
civilization numbers no more than 40,000 apes at best.  We would in all
likelihood be facing superior numbers armed with superior weaponry."
   "So in effect, we must all risk reprisals from the Ruling Class by
undercutting Dr. Zaius," this from a prominent food merchant named
Plautus, "Because he wants this Starbuck destroyed or freed before the
Assembly meeting so that way General Ursus can have no evidence to
present."
   "And suppose that our protests fail?" Sylvan jumped in, "Then Ursus
is going to win, and we will have been the instruments of that!"
   "It's a risk we must take!" Zira fired back, "Because if we try to
side with Zaius and have the matter swept under the rug, the
consequences could be more serious later when more of these humans come
back."
   Suddenly, they could hear a frantic rumble coming from outside,
followed by the sounds of several shrieks of horror.  The twelve
chimpanzees all rose from the table they were gathered round and went
outside to see what was happening.
   Their mouths fell open in disbelief when they saw numerous apes,
chimpanzees, orangutans, and gorillas alike, all running madly through
the streets in a wild panic.
   "What's going on?" Zira shouted.
   A male orangutan stopped and looked at them with wide-eyed terror,
"It's a rampage of humans!  They've all escaped from the gorilla prison
compound!"
   Zira and Cornelius glanced at each other in shock.
   "They're loose!" a chimpanzee ran past and shouted, "Everyone,
barricade yourself inside."
   Abruptly, Zira shut the door and her husband bolted it.  Right away,
they noticed the cold expressions on all of their friends.
   "So tell me Zira," Galen finally broke the silence, "Do you still
think we stand a chance urging pacifism toward the humans?"
   The psychologist lowered her head and said nothing.
   "This meeting would appear to serve no further purpose," Sylvan
dryly noted, "Though it would seem that none of us would be advised to
leave for now."


   "I win," Lucius said as he picked up his pile of cards from the
straw pile he'd set up between himself and Starbuck to act as a
makeshift table.
   "You win?" Starbuck frowned as he peered through the bars, "You said
the object of the game is to lose all the hearts and make your opponent
take them."
   "But not all of them," the young chimpanzee said, "If your opponent
takes all of the hearts, plus the queen of spades, then that means all
twenty-six points go against you."
   The grizzled warrior dimly shook his head in amazement and
admiration, "I am going to make a fortune with this game when I get
back."
   "To that ship of yours that floats in the sky?"
   "In space, Lucius," he corrected, "Space."
   "What's the point of traveling through space?" Lucius picked up the
deck and began to shuffle them for a new game, "There's enough
unexplored territory on this planet as it is."
   "From your perspective," Starbuck said, "Where I come from, there
was never an unexplored spot on any of our planets.  That's why we
always traveled from one to the other." 
   "Your people are stranger than I figured," he shook his head.
   As he prepared to deal the cards again, there was a sudden crashing
noise from outside, followed by a loud wail.
   "What the---?" Lucius frowned and prepared to get up.  At that
point, Starbuck realized that his opportunity was being handed to him
right now.  He had to act.
   Starbuck suddenly grabbed the young chimpanzee by the scruff of the
neck and pulled him up against the bars, twisting Lucius's arm around
in a manner that caused him to let out a loud gasp.
   "Sorry Lucius," he whispered, "You've been good to me and I hate to
do this to you, but I'm getting out of here.  Now give me the key."
   "You--" Lucius started to protest.
   "Just shut up," Starbuck said gently, "Give me the key, and I don't
have to break your arm.  Because if you don't, I will."
   "All right, all right!" he reached inside his pocket and tossed it
through the bar.  Without letting go of Lucius, Starbuck picked it up,
inserted it in the lock and opened the door.
   He dragged the young chimpanzee inside the cell.
   "Taylor was right," Starbuck said, "You shouldn't trust anyone over
thirty."
   And then, he delivered a mild blow to the base of Lucius's back that
he knew would be enough to knock him out without serious injury.  The
young chimpanzee collapsed to the straw surface face down.
   Starbuck slammed the door shut and promptly made his way into the
next room, where the laboratory was located, hoping he would find a
numo or any other kind of weapon.  All he saw were several surgical
knives on a table that he realized were used for dissecting purposes.
   He grabbed three of the sharp instruments and made his way through
the darkened lab to the door that led outside.  As he stood hidden in
the doorway, he could see numerous siminoids of all three categories
running about as though they were in a panic while several gorillas
from the Ape Police had taken to their equines and were galloping down
trying to restore some kind of order.
   As soon as the siminoids had passed, his eyes widened when he saw a
swarm of more than thirty humans suddenly stream down the roadway.  And
then, underneath the torchlights lining the street, he felt a sensation
of pure shock go through him when he saw someone that looked incredibly
familiar to him at the rear of the pack.  Carrying what he knew was a
Colonial laser pistol.
   "Hera?" Starbuck jumped out of the doorway and shouted.
   Hera stopped in the street as the rest of the humans charged on,
"Starbuck?"
   "They said you were dead!" he dashed up to her and wanted to embrace
her, but then saw that not far behind her, there were at least ten
gorillas on horseback approaching them.  This was clearly not the time
to talk.
   "Come on, let's get out of here!"  Hera shouted as she spun round
and fired two volleys at the charging gorillas.  Two of them fell off
and their horses suddenly collided with three others, slowing up the
progress of the rest of the group.
   "Nice shooting!" Starbuck grinned as they started to dash down the
roadway to catch up with the rear of the human pack.
   "Let's slow them up a bit more," Hera stopped, turned around and
then fired at a stalagmite column of rock that bordered one of the
buildings.  It collapsed into the street and rendered the roadway
totally impassable for equine riders.
   A moment later, they'd caught up with the pack and then saw up ahead
that two gorillas had stationed themselves on the roof of the next
house to try and trap the hoard with nets.
   "Watch it!" Starbuck shouted.
   "What I wouldn't give for nightvision goggles," Hera grunted as she
took aim at the roof and opened fire.  Her first shot took out the
gorilla on the left, and then it only took one other shot to get the
second one.
   "Forget it!" Starbuck grinned again, awed at her natural ability,
"You don't need them." 
   As the human cluster rounded the corner, Starbuck and Hera were
greeted to a new sight.  More than twenty siminoids armed with rifles,
clubs and rocks.  They began to charge the crowd of humans, opening
fire, clubbing them and hurling the rocks as hard as they could.
   Starbuck felt one of the stones ricochet off his shoulder, causing a
slight gash.  With boiling anger, he hurled the three surgical knives
toward the mob, one-by-one.  Two of them managed to impale in one of
the apes, and he collapsed to the ground.  But the mob wasted little
time resuming its angry charge.  Immediately, Starbuck and Hera began
to retreat the other way.
   "I think we've run out of options on saving these people," Hera
managed to say as they dashed back the way they'd come.
   "We can't go this way, it's been blocked off!" Starbuck shouted, "Is
there another way out?"
   "I don't know," Hera shook her head as she turned around and saw
that the crowd of angry siminoids had pushed its way through the human
onslaught and had now spotted them.
   "Get those two!" a gorilla shouted, "Don't let them get away!"
   "Eat fire, you ugly snitrods!" Hera shouted back, which caused the
approaching group to freeze in stunned horror, as they hadn't expected
to hear speech emanate from them.  It gave Hera enough time to open
fire and take down six of them in only three shots.
   "This way!" Starbuck motioned to a side alley, "Come on!"
   The two Galactica warriors ran down the pathway that led to an
unilluminated section of Ape City.  Twice, they felt themselves  bang
against several boxes and crates, before they abruptly felt the ground
disappear from beneath their feet and found themselves tumbling into
the waters of a lake.
   As soon as they both came up for air, Starbuck grabbed Hera by the
arm and motioned her to be silent as they quietly swam back under the
overhang of the dock they had fallen off.  There was only two feet of
space separating the overhang from the solid rock of the landfall, and
it was difficult for both of them to stay underneath it.  For now
though, Starbuck decided he had to play a hunch about siminoids that he
remembered from childhood.  That siminoids hated water and didn't swim.
   They heard the clamoring of feet above them as numerous siminoids
marched to the end of the dock and began shining hastily lit torches
across the water.
   "Where did they go?" one of them shouted.  "Where did they go?"
   "What do you think?" another gloomily retorted, "If they fell in
there, they're dead already.  No primate can swim."
   "We need to get a boat out and search for the bodies."
   "Not in this darkness.  It'll have to wait until morning.  Just go
back and finish rounding up the rest of those stinking beasts."
   They heard the footsteps retreat, and finally they cautiously swam
out.
   "I don't know how far it is to the other side of this lake,"
Starbuck whispered, "But we have to chance it.  They won't come after
us because they can't swim."
   "Agreed," Hera nodded and whispered back, "I hate to say this, but
I've lost my pistol."
   "Don't worry about it," he said reassuringly, "Let's just get as far
away from this madhouse as possible."
   Knowing there was no point in keeping it and because it would also
slow her down, Hera detached her holster and together, the two warriors
began to swim toward the other side of the lake.
   Thirty centons later, after covering the half-mile distance, they
warily collapsed onto the bank and dragged themselves into the
protective shelter of the tall grass bordering the water.
   "Thank the Lords," Starbuck felt like kissing the ground.
   "I know what you mean," Hera sighed as she lay on her back and
caught her breath, "When I think of what we've gone through in this
day."
   "You had a wonderful sense of timing, leading that charge through
the city," Starbuck said, "That gave me an opening for my break-out."
   "I'm glad," she smiled and then felt a sad realization come over
her, "Although all those poor humans I freed are probably back in their
cages now."
   "They told me you were dead."
   Hera shook her head and brushed away a lock of her tangled, wet
hair, "No.  They shot a human who was wearing my uniform.  She'd put it
on after I stole her clothes and decided I had to blend in with the
rest of the population."
   "I see," Starbuck looked down and took note of her wet skimpy
garments that clung to her curvaceous figure, "At the risk of sounding
dirty and sexist, especially from one who thinks of you as a niece,
they look great on you."
   She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust, "But the loincloth causes a
good deal of your middle-age paunch to hang out, Starbuck.  Has anyone
told you that as you get older, you look more like Jolly than Jolly
does now?"
   "No, but I've felt that way for awhile," he chuckled, "I've got to
start reading his manual for how he took off all that weight."
   Their exchange broke the tension they'd been feeling for so long,
and enabled them to relax in laughter for a brief moment.  But soon,
the seriousness of the situation they were in, had set in again.
   "Did you hear anything about Boxey?" Hera asked.
   "They said they hadn't captured him."
   "Then he's still free, somewhere," she felt relieved.  "You think
he's had a chance to contact the Galactica?"
   "I hope he has," Starbuck said, "Because the sooner the Galactica
gets some teams in here, the better.  Pacifying this planet is not
going to be an easy task."
   "What kind of a planet is this?" Hera shook her head in amazement. 
"I haven't found a single human who can talk."
   "But there's at least one human on this planet who can talk,"
Starbuck said, "Someone named Taylor.  The siminoids say he was here
not too long ago.  They think he's part of some human colony that lives
out in the desert area we flew over just before we landed."
   For the first time, a note of cautious optimism came over Hera's
face as she pushed another lock of her wet hair back, "Do you think
that's possible?  That there are intelligent humans we can contact?"
   "I don't know," Starbuck scratched his beard and made a vow to shave
it off for the first time in ten yahrens once he got back to the
Galactica, "They also said that this Taylor claimed to be a space
traveler.  So far, it still doesn't add up."
   "Then I guess we've got to find him," Hera got to her feet.
   The grizzled captain groaned, "Come on Hera, I think what we could
both use is a couple centars rest before we get moving."
   "Felgercarb," she said bluntly, "We're too close to Ape City, and if
we don't get away from here before daylight, we just give their gorilla
scouts another chance to hunt us down.  We need to stay off our astrums
and keep moving!"
   Spoken like a true granddaughter of Commander Cain, Starbuck
thought.  He couldn't even think of rebuking her for insubordination. 
   "Very well," he got to his feet and said with resignation, "But at
this point, we don't have any sense of direction as to where we are,
and which way leads back to the vipers."
   "We'll worry about that later," Hera said, "The sooner I get away
from those monsters the better."
   And with that, the two warriors disappeared into the darkened
forest, hoping that they'd never be exposed to the brutality of Ape
City again.


   As soon as the tumult had died down, Cornelius and Zira had wasted
little time getting over to their laboratory.  When they found Lucius
lying unconscious in Starbuck's cell, they knew right away that their
own troubles had just begun.
   An hour later, they found themselves in the office of Claudius,
President of the Ape Assembly and titular leader of the Ape Civil
Government.  A subdued Dr. Zaius sat off to one side, while the two
chimpanzees gave a full report on the circumstances of Starbuck's
escape.
   "Very well, Dr. Cornelius," Claudius said as soon as the
archeologist had finished, "I'm convinced that you and Dr. Zira do not
bear responsibility for this riot that took place.  Your nephew will
have to face charges of gross negligence, but since he is under
eighteen I doubt it will lead to a prison sentence."
   "Thank you, Mr. President," Zira said with relief.
   "And as for you, Dr. Zaius," Claudius glared at his fellow
orangutan, "It disappoints me greatly to discover that you've been
perpetrating a fraud when it comes to the matter of humans that can
talk.  First with Taylor, then with this prisoner Starbuck.  And now we
learn from the crowds that broke up the mob that there was a female
human who spoke when she used her strange fire gun on the Police
forces.  These are obviously not experimental humans that have been
corrupted by science, Dr. Zaius.  They mean that there is a colony of
intelligent humans near our territories!"
   "Mr. President," the Chief Scientist rose, "At no time have I ever
violated my duties as Chief Defender of the Faith, which have dictated
silence about Man's true origins since the Lawgiver decreed it.  Each
Defender has always maintained that oath of silence."
   "But now circumstances force the shattering of that oath, and the
truth about what Man really is, must come out." the President noted
acidly, "And you know what this means.  When General Ursus gets his
audience before the Full Assembly, there can only be one outcome which
all apes, be they orangutan, chimpanzee or gorilla can agree on.  Total
war and the immediate extermination of every human in the Forbidden
Zone and the surrounding areas."
   "Mr. President!" Zira bolted from her chair, "You can't let this
happen!  It would mean disaster for us all!"
   "Dr. Zira, your bizarre compassion for humans can at times seem
commendable, but it does you no credit in this instance,"  Claudius
said, "Tonight, apes of all classes received an opportunity to see why
Man can not be permitted to coexist within our domain, especially men
who have the gifts of intelligence that they forfeited their right to
thousands of years ago!"
   "But Mr. President, suppose what this Starbuck said about his tribe
is true?" Zira pleaded.
   "Nonsense!" Zaius thundered, "A preposterous fairy tale about 70,000
humans traveling in space?  Fleeing from another race of automated
machines?  Mere lies to disguise the weakness of what lies in the
Forbidden Zone!"
   The President leaned back in his chair, "By your tone, Dr. Zaius, I
can expect you to support a resolution for war when the Ruling Class
must make it's decision?"
   "You have it," the Chief Scientist nodded firmly, "As a result of
what has happened tonight, the Ruling Class must get ahead of General
Ursus and the gorillas demand for war.  This way we can be assured that
they will not threaten the established order over the long-haul because
we tried to stand in the way."
   "Mr. President, while I sympathize to one degree with this desire
for revenge, I must insist that we maintain prudence for now,"
Cornelius said, "I will grant you that it is impossible to believe that
Starbuck's story of traveling through space is true, but I don't think
we can discount his insistence that his tribe possesses numbers and
weapons far advanced of our own.  If we decided to engage in a war of
conquest, the results could be disastrous."
   "So you would rather we wait for them to swarm down on us, and
exterminate us while we sit back passively?" Zaius raised his voice,
"What you call prudence, I would call treason!"
   "Let's dispense with hurling accusations at each other," Claudius
held up his hands, "Dr. Cornelius, Dr. Zira, I naturally will give you
every right to offer an opposing viewpoint at the Assembly session. 
But I must caution you both that advocating pacifism toward the humans
at a time when more than two dozen gorillas lie dead is not going to
help either of you in the long-run."
   "Perhaps not," Zira said defiantly, "But I'm convinced that the
long-term is going to vindicate our position."
   The Assembly President offered a half-smile at her.
   "If that's true Doctor, then I'll promise you this," he said, "The
Ruling Class may very well have to abdicate in favor of the both of
you."

                    Chapter Seven

   "Colonel Rollins?" Athena radioed, "Do your systems still check out
for touchdown?"
   "Everything's running beautifully, Major," Rollins replied, "We're
fifteen of your centons away from landing.  How about you?"
   "No problem Colonel.  We've handled this sort of thing before."
   "I can imagine," he chuckled, "We'll be signing off for now.  Talk
to you again as soon as we're both on the ground and we can coordinate
our strategy."
   "Affirmative.  We'll keep you on our monitor just to be sure we
don't lose each other."
   As soon as Rollins shut off the transmitter, he looked over at Brent
and saw that the second-in-command had the same look of incredulous
disbelief that had been there for the last twelve hours since the
Magellan II and the Galactica shuttle had begun their non-stop
conversation.
   "Brent," he said patiently, "Wipe that first brush with
extraterrestrials look off your face and get back to work."
   "I'm sorry Skipper," Brent shook his head,  "It's just that
after----" he trailed off and shuddered.
   Rollins grimly nodded and then motioned Fowler over, "Gentlemen," he
said, "The last twelve hours have not been easy, because we have now
learned information that tells us that the Earth of the 40th Century is
an Earth that has managed to go completely ass-backwards.  How this
happened, or when it happened is something we can not begin to
speculate about until we're on the ground.  But already, I think I have
an inkling of what it is we've all been thinking about once we complete
the mission and return to the 20th Century."
   Brent and Fowler both nodded.  They didn't have to say what they
were all thinking at this point.
   "That's why it's important for us to gather as much evidence and
information about what kind of Earth this is," Rollins went on, "But
even though that has now become an important priority in this mission,
in addition to helping these people find their own missing comrades, we
can not let it distract us from the basic objective of finding Taylor
and the others.  I want that understood completely."
   His fellow astronauts nodded.
   "Good," Rollins turned back to the control panel, "Now let's put
this sucker on the ground."


   "Ten centons to landing," Athena said as she flicked several
switches that put the shuttle into a controlled descent mode.  "We
should be getting a topography reading in another five centons of the
terrain the Magellan II will be touching down on."
   "Major," Ares spoke up, "Do you think we ought to radio the
Galactica one last time before landing, to tell them what we've learned
from Colonel Rollins and his team?"
   "We can't," Athena shook her head, "We're too far to send a
scrambled signal at this point.  We'd have to broadcast on an open
frequency that the Cylons can conceivably pick up."
   Cassiopeia had been feeling a dread sense of unease building up
inside her for the last twelve centars as she had learned all the
details of the crew of the Magellan II and their mission.  During that
time, she had been trying to recall things she had read in scientific
textbooks when she had taken her four yahrens of training to become a
full-fledged doctor.  It had required learning many things about all
categories of science, not just medicine.  And there was something she
had once read in a physics manual that had been gnawing at her for some
time.
   She finally decided that now was the time to mention her concerns. 
Once they were on the ground and forced to work alongside the three men
from Earth's past there would be no other opportunity.
   "Athena," she said, "There's something bothering me.  Something that
could mean a real danger for all of us."
   "What?" the dark-haired major frowned.
   "Those men," her expression was tight-lipped, "They're from Earth's
past, and they say their objective is to ultimately return to Earth's
past."
   "Yes, but Cassiopeia that's going to be impossible for them to pull
off.  It's possible to travel forward in time through the crude means
of interstellar travel they took, but going backwards---"
   "Athena, you don't understand," Cassiopeia interrupted, "They
already know how to get back.  They wouldn't have gone on a rescue
mission for their friends if there wasn't some definite idea in their
mind of how they can go back 2000 yahrens to their own time."
   "If I grant you that point, I'm not sure I understand what you're
worried about."
   "They would have the power to change history," the Chief Medical
Officer finally came to the point.  As soon as she said the words,
Bernabe and Ares both blanched slightly, while a slow, uneasy dawning
came over Athena's face.
   "You mean---" Athena started as memories of what she had once read
in the same physics textbooks started to come back to her.
   "Yes," Cassiopeia nodded, "And if my hunch is right, the lives of
every person in the Fleet could be at risk."
   "It's only a theory, Cassie," the major cautioned, "Just one theory
of many about the effects of traveling back in time.  And our science
was nowhere near a stage where any of those theories could be put to
the test."
   "But is it something we can risk?" she retorted gently, "Athena, we
might as well admit the obvious.  We can help these people search for
this Colonel Taylor and his crew, but we can not let any of them go
back to Earth's past."
   An uneasy silence hung in the cockpit for more than a centar as the
shuttle continued it's programmed descent.


   "We're starting to penetrate the upper atmosphere," Rollins had
assumed his most professional bearing, "Fowler, have you narrowed down
our touchdown point?"
   "I put us about....I'd say along the North Shore of Long Island,
twenty miles northeast of Manhattan, five miles inland from Long Island
Sound."
   "Okay," the commander nodded, "All systems still running according
to programming.  If this straight line heading from the last point we
had Taylor's trajectory works, we should land right next to where the
Magellan's parked."
   "Colonel Rollins!" they suddenly heard Athena's alarmed voice fill
the cockpit, "Our topography analysis has you headed straight for a
landing in the middle of an inland sea!  Abort your heading and alter
course!"
   "Holy shit," Rollins said as he quickly hit some switches, "Brent,
deactivate computer control guidance!"
   "Deactivating!" the sandy-haired astronaut opened the glass panel
above his head and turned the red knob inside to the left.
   "Manual control systems coming on-line now," Rollins felt his heart
begin to thump as he took control of the rapidly descending spacecraft.
   Fowler was staring dumbfoundedly at his map charts, "Skipper,
there's no way we should be landing in Long Island Sound unless it's
moved five miles inland."
   "Well they say it's down there, and I think their systems know more
about these things!" Rollins clenched his teeth as he felt the craft
react sluggishly under his control.  "We're not programmed to handle a
water landing.  Not if we want to get off the ground again!"
   "We won't fare much better with a rough landing on the ground
either!" Brent said as he grabbed hold of the control stick on his side
of the cockpit to relieve some of the burden Rollins was shouldering.
   The commander managed to flick the switch of his radio, "Athena, are
we clear of that inland sea?"
   "Affirmative, but you've got more trouble!" the Galactica warrior
chimed back, "The terrain bordering the sea is mountainous desert. 
There aren't many smooth spots for your ship to land."
   Fowler's jaw fell open, "What the fuck?" he said aloud.
   "Desert?  Mountains?" Brent craned his head back at Fowler, "You
said we were coming in near New York, for Christ's sake!"
   "We are!" the navigator shouted back angrily.
   "Shut up, both of you!" Rollins thundered as he continued to
sluggishly maneuver the rapidly descending spacecraft.  The red glow of
re-entry was fast enveloping them, and then dissipating as they entered
the final stages of descent.  Finally, the sight of blue sky filled the
cockpit windows followed seconds later by the bizarre sight of jagged
desert peaks dotting the entire landscape beneath them.
   "Leveling off to glide approach," Rollins said under his breath as
he felt the sweat pouring out of his body, "Main engine shutdown
initiated."
   Brent took a breath and hit several switches, "Forward power to
braking systems."
   "Landing gear deployed?" Rollins barked at Fowler.
   "Gear down!" the navigator responded.
   "All right," the commander clenched his teeth, "All right.  All
systems go.  We just need to find a soft spot."
   "Magellan II, this is Galactica shuttle," Athena's voice filled the
cockpit, trying to inject a note of reassurance, "We have you tracked. 
We'll be setting down right next to you.  Signing off for now and good
luck."
   "Yeah, but will there be any one of us left alive to meet them?"
Brent grunted sarcastically as they saw the mountain peaks grow closer
and closer in their line of vision.
   "Come on," Rollins whispered as he searched the horizon for just one
flat surface region.
   "Ten thousand feet," Fowler called off the altitude, "Nine
thousand."
   "Main engine shutdown complete," Brent said, "We're now on total
glide."
   "Six thousand....Four thousand."
   "Skipper, at twelve o'clock!" Brent's voice suddenly was filled with
terror.
   Rollins felt his blood run cold when he saw a giant peak rising more
than three thousand feet high in the air directly ahead of them.  At
their present rate of descent, they were headed straight for a
collision below the peak's top which would destroy the Magellan II into
a million tiny fragments.
   "Jettison main thrusters!" the commander shouted.  
   Fowler's eyes widened, "But Skipper, that means----"
   "I know what it means, and if you don't do it we're all dead! 
Jettison main thrusters!"
   The navigator had to reach down to open an instrument panel at his
rear console.  He then threw an auxiliary switch that opened a second
panel underneath the first one, concealing a bright green button.
   "Come on!" Rollins shouted as he and Brent saw the peak loom closer.
   Fowler pressed it and abruptly the spacecraft began to rise for a
brief moment as the main engines at the rear of the Magellan II were
jettisoned and fell away.  The Magellan II had now become a gigantic
glider that could never again leave the surface under its own power.
   The maneuver caused the spacecraft to rise high enough that the nose
passed over the jagged peak with no margin whatsoever to spare.  But no
sooner was the nose clear when the three astronauts felt a violent
bump.
   "Skipper, our rear gear brushed against it!" Fowler called,
"Indications are that it's damaged bad!"
   Already, Brent was beginning to face the terrible realization that
even if they got through the landing safely, there was no hope
whatsoever of the Magellan II ever flying again.  And that meant he
would have to face the thought of being trapped in the 40th Century
forever.  Cut off forever from his family, and any hope of setting
things right with them.
   "Steady," Rollins kept a poker face as he held the control stick
securely and felt the spacecraft resume its descent arc.  The Magellan
II was now below the level of the various rock peaks surrounding her
now.  If another one emerged ahead of them, there would be no second
chance this time.
   "Three thousand....two thousand....." Fowler ticked off.  The
navigator's heart was pounding so frantically, he felt as though it
would explode.
   "Look!" Brent pointed, "At two o'clock, I think we can set her down
there."
   Rollins strained his eyes and saw a slightly rough-looking but open
area of desert that stretched for well over several thousand  feet
before running flush into the base of another peak.
   "Okay," the commander said, "Let's try for there."  he moved the
craft's nose down to put it on a heading for the landing spot. 
"Fowler, stand by to deploy all main and auxiliary chutes."
   "Standing by.  Now at one thousand feet, eight hundred...."
   "Deploy!"
   The three astronauts felt a violent jolt as the four parachutes
mounted in the rear of the spacecraft were deployed, slowing the ship's
rate of descent.
   Even with the chutes deployed though, Rollins still felt they were
coming in too fast for a landing on an inadequate site.  Any other
terrain--fields, trees, sand, would have been manageable.  The only
things the Magellan II hadn't been designed for were water and rocky
desert terrain.
   Thank you Consolidated Dynamics, you cheap bastards, he thought as
he moved the throttle up one last time for the final approach.
   "Touchdown in five, four, three, two----"
   Before Fowler could finish, the Magellan II had made contact with
the ground.  Rollins felt the damaged rear landing gear crumple
instantly from the impact, and the spacecraft began to slide violently
across the rough, rocky surface, bumping twice against some
medium-sized obstacles on the ground.
   "Come on you son-of-a-bitch!" Rollins shouted as he tried to apply
the last traces of power to the braking flaps.  Beside him, Brent had a
terror-filled expression on his face as he dug his nails in the side of
his chair and saw the imposing form of the mountain barrier looming
ahead.  If the spacecraft didn't stop before reaching it, the last
thing he would see would be the orange flash of the explosion consuming
him.
   But then, he felt the Magellan II decelerate until finally, the
skidding spacecraft came to a stop a mere fifty feet from the base of
the cliff.
   "The Eagle has landed," Rollins let out a sigh as he took his hand
off the throttle.
   Brent also let out a relieved exhale and felt the urge to get down
on his knees in prayerful thanks to God.
   "Magellan II?" the radio became active again, "Magellan II do you
copy?"
   Rollins felt so drained that it took him thirty seconds to reach
over and hit the respond button, "Galactica shuttle, this is Rollins. 
We're okay."
   "We'll be setting down beside you in three of your minutes."
   "Looking forward to it," Rollins said as he shut off the
communications terminal power and undid his harness straps.  "Fowler?"
he called out.
   There was no response.
   "Fowler?"
   Brent looked back and his relief suddenly turned to wide-eyed
horror.
   "Skipper!"
   The commander got to his feet and dashed back toward the rear of the
spacecraft.  They found the red-haired navigator sprawled against the
compartment bulkhead with a deep gash in his forehead.
   "Oh my God," he whispered and got to his knees.  He desperately
tried to feel a pulse but knew right away that he'd feel nothing.
   "Fowler!" Brent shouted as he dashed back and joined him.
   "Forget it," Rollins shook his head, "He's dead."
   "How?" the second-in-command was shocked, "How could---"
   Rollins cast a forlorn glance at Fowler's navigation station.  He
could see the harness straps that had held the navigator in place lying
broken over the chair.
   "There's your answer," he said in a flat monotone, "His harness
failed and the impact hurled him all the way back into the bulkhead
wall."
   "Damn," Brent felt a tear welling up.  "Damn."
   "We can't do anything for him," the commander got to his feet, "We
just have to accept it and move on."
   "Can you take this whole thing that lightly?" Brent glared angrily. 
He no longer had any illusion in his mind that there was a rational
purpose to this mission.
   "I haven't got any other choice but to handle it that way," Rollins
said calmly, "And maybe that's why I got to be the commander of this
expedition.  Our concern has to be with those who are still living and
finding them.  Now get all your gear together, and let's get ready to
meet those new friends of ours."
   He moved back to the front of the cockpit, leaving Brent alone with
the corpse of their fellow astronaut.  The second-in-command leaned
down and draped a canvas covering over Fowler's head before he finally
summoned the strength to leave.


   "I think they just did a favor for us," Ares couldn't help but say
aloud as the Galactica shuttle went into it's final descent that would
land it right next to the broken Magellan II.
   "What do you mean?" Bernabe asked.
   "Well, we've been worrying aloud about the danger of what might
happen if we let them go back to the past," the senior security guard
noted, "And from the looks of that landing, they certainly can't do
that with their own ship."
   Athena slowly nodded and smiled mirthlessly, "Point taken,
Lieutenant.  But in the interests of keeping smooth diplomatic
relations with our new acquaintances, I'd advise that none of us
mention that subject at all."


   Rollins and Brent were both waiting outside when the shuttle landed. 
The first face-to-face meeting of the Colonial warriors and the Earth
astronauts was reasonably friendly, but also subdued as soon as Rollins
mentioned the death of Fowler to them.
   Ares and Bernabe went inside the Magellan II to help Brent unload
the rest of the provisions and supplies, while the commander joined
Athena and Cassiopeia in the shuttle cockpit for a strategy session.
   "It's a good thing we had those twelve hours to talk things out and
learn everything we can about each other," Rollins said, "I feel as
though I already understand everything about your mission, and what is
it your people are trying to do."
   "I'm grateful for that, Colonel," Athena said, "And we're more than
happy to assist you in finding your friends.  From the looks of
things," she looked out at the imposing scene of the canyon valley they
were lying in, "There aren't many leads to go on."
   "I can tell," Rollins nodded, "God, I can't understand what's
happened to this planet.  I know it's been two thousand years for us,
but there's nothing about this terrain that resembles what it's
supposed to be."
   "You're familiar with this area?" Cassiopeia asked.
   "This was part of a major metropolitan area in the northeastern
region of my home country," he said, "When I last saw it, there were no
mountains, and no canyons.  This region was a densely populated
flatland area."
   "How dense?"
   "At least ten million people."
   "My God," Athena whispered.
   "Yeah," Rollins nodded, "Somehow, the civilization that I knew,
which was advanced enough to build our spacecraft, has disappeared over
the last two thousand years."
   "Hopefully, we'll find out the reasons why," Athena said, "But first
things first.  When I monitored that inland sea you were headed for,
our scanners showed that there was some kind of manufactured metallic
object lying on the bottom of it.  Now I'm no expert on what is and
what isn't indigenous to this planet, but I have a strong suspicion
that what we scanned was the remains of the spacecraft you're looking
for."
   "Possible," Rollins nodded, "If the trajectory we were following
still checked out, then that would explain why we almost landed in
there too."
   "Our topography analysis says that there's a channel that empties
into the sea twenty kilometers to the east," Athena said, "We might as
well check it out to see if there are any indications that your friends
made it ashore."
   "Can we manage that on foot?"
   "We won't have to," Cassiopeia said, "This shuttle is equipped with
a ground transport vehicle designed for terrain like this.  It's called
a landram.  If we load all our supplies inside, we can begin searching
immediately."


   Two hours later, the landram was moving away from both the shuttle
and the wrecked Magellan II on an easterly heading.  In spite of their
shock at seeing the topography so radically altered from what it should
have been, both Rollins and Brent were highly impressed by the craft's
features and maneuverability.    
   "The moon buggies we rode had nothing on this," the colonel said
aloud.
   "Tell me something Colonel," Ares asked, trying to start some
conversation with the Earth natives, "Why did your friends go on a deep
space mission in the first place?"
   Rollins sighed and dimly shook his head, "I've never figured that
out myself, Lieutenant.  As a matter of fact, the last time I saw
Taylor I kept trying to talk him out of the whole crazy thing."
   Brent's ears perked up when he heard that.  For the first time, he
finally understood why Rollins had been so obsessed with the mission
and following it to its conclusion no matter what.  The commander
wanted to finally have the satisfaction of telling Taylor that he'd
been wrong.
   "It was described as a unique opportunity for a strain of humanity
to begin anew on a distant world," the sandy-haired astronaut decided
to answer the question Rollins had avoided, "Of course had any of us
known that another tribe of humanity existed out there, we might not
have considered the idea so readily."
   "That means none of you, even in the advanced civilization of the
past knew about the origins of humanity?" Cassiopeia was amazed, "The
settlement of Earth by the Thirteenth Tribe that set out from the
planet Kobol?"
   "No," Rollins shook his head, "To be perfectly honest, I'm still
having trouble accepting that idea myself.  It's easier for me to
believe that separate strains of humanity could have developed
independently than for us all to be linked to one common beginning."
   "But if that were true, then we couldn't have known about the
existence of Earth before we arrived," Athena noted.
   "True," the commander nodded, "True."
   "We might have just forgotten, but not completely," Brent said,
"Your names for instance are identical to names that we used in our
more ancient cultures several thousand years ago, and were quite
prominent in some of our legends and myths.  As a matter of fact
Athena, one nation used your name for the mythical goddess of wisdom."
   Athena let out a dry chuckle, "How considerate of them."
   "It's almost similar to what happened in our own home planets,"
Cassiopeia said, "When the twelve tribes from Kobol settled in our
worlds, they destroyed the technology that had brought them from the
mother world as a sign of repentance to God and it took thousands of
yahrens to regain that same technology.  Maybe the same thing happened
here on Earth."
   "Possibly," Rollins said, "But at the moment, I'm more interested to
find out what happened that's caused the Earth as Brent and I knew it
to be destroyed."
   "We are too," Athena said, "We won't be able to know if we can still
settle our people on this planet otherwise."
   "Could you explain again this war you've been fighting with this
race of machines?" Brent asked, "What do you call them?"
   "Cylons," Athena sighed, "It's not an easy thing to explain."
   Before the conversation could go any further, Bernabe was chiming in
from the observer/gunnery post on the outside of the vehicle.
   "Major, I've got the magnifiers trained on the channel and I think I
see something.  Suggest we stop to check it out."
   "Okay Bernabe," Athena said as she slowed the landram to a stop. 
"Colonel Rollins, Major Brent, maybe you should check it out with him
to see if it's anything you'd recognize."
   The two astronauts nodded and rose from their seats.  Ares slid the
door open and they stepped out onto the desert surface.
   While they waited for them to finish investigating, Cassiopeia cast
Athena a cautious glance.  "Athena, don't you think we should be
conducting a sweep for where Blue Squadron landed their vipers?"
   "I already know where they landed," Athena said flatly and avoided
looking at her, "When I was tracking the Magellan II's landing, I also
took the liberty of scanning the jungle regions that are far off to the
west.  There were three metal contacts concentrated together in one
spot that have to be their vipers."
   An incredulous expression came over the Chief Medical Officer's
face, "Then why didn't you---"
   "Because I felt we owed it to them to help them first," Athena said
flatly, "And if I'd told you at the time, you would have been insisting
that we go our separate ways or that we should have checked it out
first.  But doing that would mean alienating them, and given the risk
you spoke of earlier concerning their future plans, alienating these
men is the last thing I am going to do."
   "But---" Cassiopeia started to protest and then stopped when the two
astronauts returned and stepped inside.  Both of them seemed to be
resisting the urge to smirk.
   "Well?" Athena asked as Ares closed the door.
   "They survived the crash," Rollins settled back in his seat.  "We
saw an empty rubber liferaft, standard issue for all NASA astronauts."
   "And this," Brent opened his hand and revealed a tiny
red-white-and-blue flag, identical to the ones on the sleeves of their
white jumpsuits.  "This was planted at the site.  The emblem of our
country.  Looks as though their patriotic instincts still endured even
after arriving."
   "Which also means that they didn't realize they were on Earth when
they landed," Rollins rubbed his neck.
   "Okay," Athena said, "At least we know that your friends might still
be alive.  Now that we've determined that, there's only one place for
us to go."
   "Where's that?"
   "Our topography scan of the planet indicates that about fifty miles
to the southwest is where the jungle regions of this planet begins."
   "Jungle regions to the southwest...." Rollins said disbelievingly as
he did some mental geography.  That would put them in New Jersey, which
was the last place on Earth he ever would have associated with the term
'jungle.'
   Then again, he thought grimly, the North Shore of Long Island was
the last place he would have associated with mountains and desert.
   "And we also suspect that the three people from our patrol, the ones
you observed yesterday Colonel, landed in that region.  Now from what I
can tell, this is the *only* nearby spot capable of sustaining life. 
If your friends survived after they made it here, they could only have
done so if they'd tried for that region.  So by going there, we should
be able to kill two birds with one stone."
   Rollins nodded, "Okay Major.  About how long do you think it would
take to reach that area?"
   "It won't be smooth sailing on this terrain," she said, "We'll have
to negotiate a lot of mountain pass regions and do some serious terrain
climbing.  If it was fifty miles of flatland, I could have us there in
one of your hours.  This could take at least five to six."
   "It'd take days to walk just as far in these conditions," Brent
said, "We might as well be grateful for small favors, Major.  If you
hadn't been here to help us, I don't think we could have negotiated
it."
   "Bernabe, you settled in?" Athena radioed the security guard on the
landram's exterior.
   "All secured, Major.  I'm ready."
   Athena then started up the landram and it began it's slow southwest
trek in search of four missing astronauts, and three missing warriors. 



   There was an enormous sense of dread inside Cornelius as he took his
seat along with Zira in the chimpanzee section of the outdoor
amphitheater that housed the Ape Assembly.  Because this was an Open
Assembly, it would mark a rare occasion when the gorillas and
chimpanzees would finally get a chance to make comments to the Assembly
as a whole.  And on this day, Cornelius already knew that the voices
from the gorilla section, where General Ursus had already taken his
place in full elaborate battle dress, were going to carry far more
weight than anything he or Zira would say.
   He'd spent the rest of the night debating whether he should try to
talk Zira out of making her speech, since the disastrous meeting with
the other chimpanzees at the time the raid had began had virtually
closed the door on getting anyone else from their class to go along
with them.  Just as they had been all alone in defending Taylor before
the Tribunal, they would be alone again, and in all likelihood could
find themselves brought up on charges again.  In spite of what Claudius
had promised, Cornelius knew that the Assembly President, like all
orangutans, would go back on his word in an instant if expediency
dictated it.
   But he'd finally decided that his wife was filled with too much
pride to keep her feelings to herself, especially when he also knew
that she was right.  If she didn't have the chance to speak out in a
public forum like this, she might do it in a setting where there would
be no question of being thrown into jail.
   And so he would stand by her on this critical day in Ape History and
defend what she said with all the vigor he could muster.  The time had
come for the chimpanzee archeologist to throw all cautions to the wind.
   Below them, in the center of the amphitheater, the orangutans who
comprised the membership of the Assembly had all taken their positions
on the stone benches reserved for them, while at the front, Claudius
had assumed his position in the President's chair.  To one side, a
ceremonial guard blew into a horn that caused all the apes to settle
down in anticipation of the meeting's beginning.  When the guard had
finished, a hush came over as Claudius rose from his chair and began to
walk about the proscenium.
   "Fellow Apes!" he boomed out in his usual sonorous tone, "We gather
today in this special Open Assembly to discuss a matter of grave
concern that has arisen in recent days.  The terrible knowledge that
the beast called Man threatens us in ways that none of us could ever
have fathomed before!"
   He motioned to Dr. Zaius who was seated in the front row with the
other senior members of the Ruling Class.
   "At this time, I call upon Dr. Zaius, our esteemed Minister of
Science and Defender of the Faith to explain the terrible secret that
he and his predecessors have been forced to carry inside for a thousand
years."
   Some scattered applause went up as Zaius got to his feet and looked
over the crowd carefully before beginning.
   "Fellow Apes!" the elderly orangutan began, "Twelve hundred years
ago, the greatest Ape who ever lived, the Lawgiver, laid down to us in
the Sacred Scrolls the testaments of our faith that has guided us ever
since.  It was the Lawgiver's belief that we Apes needed a code to live
by that would enable us to prosper as a society, and always be mindful
of the precious gift God gave to us in having a soul and the ability to
reason."
   He then looked about the gathering and paused briefly for effect.
   "But there were other testaments the Lawgiver left to us that he
felt were not to be revealed to Ape Society as a whole unless
circumstances dictated otherwise.  That time, as a result of what has
happened to us these past few weeks, is now.
   "You have all heard rumors and accounts of how there have been
strange cases of humans that talk.  Beginning with the one who called
himself Taylor, and then followed yesterday by reports of talking
humans that ambushed a gorilla scout party, and last night the terror
of the human rampage led by another talking human that resulted in more
than ten apes killed.
   "Let me state categorically in this open forum for all to hear, that
the accusations the Ministry of Science previously leveled against Dr.
Cornelius and Dr. Zira of conducting heretical experiments on human
captives to alter them into talking freaks is absolutely false!"
   Watching from the chimpanzees section, Cornelius leaned over to his
wife and whispered, "He appears to be extending us an olive branch."
   "It's too late for that," Zira hissed, "I won't be bought off. 
Especially by the likes of him."
   Zaius moved up to the head of the Assembly section so that he stood
directly in front of the President's chair.
   "Taylor before, and these new ones that appeared yesterday are not
scientific freaks.  They in fact represent the greatest menace to our
civilization that we have ever faced.  They are the descendants of the
ultimate evil that is Man.  Descendants of the ones whom God turned His
back on long ago when he made a wasteland of the Forbidden Zone and the
many lands surrounding it.  They are the reasons why the Almighty chose
to make the Apes His new chosen ones, and why we are now the masters of
this planet!"
   A hushed murmur went up through the crowd as they heard this
stunning revelation that undercut everything they had been taught to
believe about Man all their lives.
   "Yes," Zaius went on, "I know it is a shocking concept.  But it is
in fact quite true.  Man was given the gifts that we now enjoy and
built civilizations that we would regard as veritable Paradises.  But
because he has that warlike instinct for selfishness and deceit that
has made him a beast in our eyes, he destroyed his accomplishments and
his civilizations and was forced to become subservient to us.
   "You have seen in the mute, thoughtless humans that we have always
known, the bitter fruit of Man's sin.  But now, we see that the Devil
is still among us in the form of a remnant of what Man once was. 
Embodied in the mutant humans from the Forbidden Zone who have
encroached on our territories and now threaten to destroy us all in the
name of taking back that which is no longer their right to have, as God
has decreed!"
   Many heads were nodding in approval and applauding as the Chief
Scientist spoke.  To Zira's distaste, she saw that most of the
chimpanzees were joining in as well.
   "To my eternal regret, I must confess that I bear partial
responsibility for this sad plight of the last day that left more than
two dozen gorillas dead," Zaius continued with a humble air, "It was my
decision to let the mutant called Taylor go off into the Forbidden Zone
with his woman.  I did this in the hopes that his captivity would
convince him of the folly in opposing our order and that he would warn
his brothers in the Forbidden Zone that they would face total
annihilation if they ever encroached upon us again.  I should have
realized though that he would never be honorable enough to deliver that
warning and heed it."
   "What poppycock!" Zira hissed under her breath, "He let Taylor go
because Taylor was holding a gun to his head at the time."
   "For now we see that Taylor has encouraged his fellow mutants to
take up arms against us, and find ways to get the mute animals to go on
wild rampages that further pillage our food and our property.
   "Man has become a pestilence that at long last must be eradicated! 
No more will we tolerate the pillaging of our precious resources!  No
more will we tolerate the contamination they bring to our society!  And
no more will we tolerate their demonic brethren making war against us!
   "My fellow Apes, the time has come for us to take up our arms and
declare on this day that in the name of the Lawgiver, the demons in the
Forbidden Zone should be rooted out once and for all!  And when they
are disposed of, we will at last turn our energies to destroying the
mute ones who have plagued us for too long now!
   "On behalf of the entire Ruling Class, I call on you members of this
Open Assembly to ratify an immediate proposal for total war against
humanity!"
   Loud, boisterous applause and wild ape grunts went up from almost
all of the spectators.  In the gorilla section, an amazed General Ursus
could scarcely believe his good fortune that Dr. Zaius had now become
his champion instead of opponent.
   At the President's table, Claudius motioned the guard to sound his
horn and call for order.  As soon as the noise filled the chamber, the
tumult died down as Zaius resumed his seat.
   "Thank you Dr. Zaius," the President said, "As he has so eloquently
noted, the entire Ruling Class is in concurrence on this matter.  It is
only up to you as a whole, to decide if we shall begin the crusade this
day.  At this time, are there any Apes present who wish to rise in
objection to Dr. Zaius's proposal?"
   Cornelius could sense right away that many pairs of eyes had focused
on the chimpanzees section where he and Zira sat.  Most of them knew
all about their experience with Taylor, and how Zira had always been
one of the foremost champions of treating humans with more compassion
as part of a search for greater knowledge.
   He glanced at his wife and waited for her to rise.  Zira did not
disappoint him.
   "Mr. President," the psychologist's voice was one of controlled
indignation, "I rise to speak out against this reckless, irresponsible
measure that if adopted will lead to the potential destruction of all
that we have cherished as a society for hundreds of years."
   "Human lover!" a gorilla shouted from the opposite side of the
galleries.
   Zira ignored the taunt and went on.  "I hear it said by our esteemed
Minister of Science that for 1200 years, we have been lied to by every
Defender of the Faith who chose to keep the truth of what Man really is
hidden from us.  And now that same corrupt aristocracy that has
permitted Truth and Knowledge to be trampled on, even to the point of
having innocent ones hauled up before tribunals on false charges of
heresy and treason, tells us that our best interest lies in a bloody
war of conquest.  I think when it comes to having our best interest at
heart, the track record of this Ruling Class speaks for itself."
   A low mumble of discontent came up from the orangutans.  But to
Cornelius's surprise there were several chimpanzees who were silently
nodding their heads.
   "Do I condone the deaths of our brother apes yesterday at the hands
of these humans?  Absolutely not.  But by the same token, I cannot help
but wonder what the normal reaction of an ape might be if he were to
see fellow apes being abused and murdered wantonly by humans for sport. 
If an ape took action and killed humans to rescue his brothers, would
he feel that his killing was justified?"
   She allowed her rhetorical question to hang in the air and saw with
satisfaction that no one was challenging her.
   "I strongly suspect that this unknown civilization of intelligent
humans does not wish to exterminate us unless we take unprovoked action
against them."
   Several gorillas started to groan in disgust.
   "We have seen indications that the weaponry these humans possess is
something far in advance of our own.  Certainly all of you can concede
that those fire guns we saw last night were far beyond anything Ape
Society has ever been able to comprehend."
   This time, the gorillas were not groaning but nodding in agreement.
   "If it is true then that these humans have numbers far greater than
our total population, all capable of raining down destruction upon us
with their fire guns, then what purpose is served in trying to wage war
against them, when the result would only be our destruction?"
   "No human can ever defeat the indomitable spirit of our warriors!"
General Ursus rose from his chair and spoke for the first time.  "And
we cannot lose because we are God's chosen ones!"
   "I believe there is an old expression in the Sacred Scrolls that
what the Almighty giveth, He can also taketh away in but an instant."
Zira coolly retorted, "The revelations we have learned about Man show
that He has done so in the past.  Is it not possible that it may one
day be the will of that same God to restore things to what they once
were?"
   "Heresy!" one orangutan from the Assembly shouted, "It is heresy at
it's worst to suggest that Apes could be so abandoned!"
   "You have already heard from our own Defender of the Faith that
Mankind was so abandoned by the Almighty long ago!" Zira's nostrils
flared, "Would it have been heresy for a man one thousand years ago to
have predicted the rise of the Ape?"
   General Ursus turned away from Zira and glared at the rest of the
apes who had gathered.
   "Are we to let our future be dictated by such philosophical
claptrap?" the general thundered.  "We should look to the realities
that exist!  Our food continuously plundered!  The spread of
contamination and disease from the stinking beasts we spare and keep in
cages!  And now, the emergence of humans who commit savage murder
against apes!  Do we dare call ourselves a civilized race if we permit
this slow destruction of our society to go unchecked?"
   The approving grunts and roars started to fill the amphitheater.
   "Do we dare call ourselves 'civilized' if we start doing the very
things that caused humanity to fall from grace?" Zira retorted acidly
to a chorus of rising boos and chants of "Sit down!  Sit down!  Sit
down!"
   "Let us decide who is right, and what path we will follow!" Ursus
pumped his fist into the air, "I speak for all gorillas in saying we
approve of the Ruling Class's resolution of war, and will execute it to
the fullest!"
   The gorillas all stood up and began to roar boisterously.  A second
later, they were followed by virtually all the members of the orangutan
Ruling Class.
   Finally, several apes in the chimpanzee section got to their feet to
join in.  Even so, Zira felt a small measure of satisfaction that it
was only one-quarter to one-third of the chimpanzees.  At the very
least, she had not been completely ignored.
   The guardsman's horn blew again to signal quiet.  Claudius, his
expression curiously neutral, looked about the chamber and said in an
equally neutral tone, "Is there any need to put the matter to a formal
vote?"
   "In the interest of upholding parliamentary delicacy, Mr. President,
I say yes." Dr. Zaius said as he briefly rose and then sat down again.
   "Very well.  On the resolution that we, the united citizens of Ape
City, hereby resolve on this day to declare war against all species of
mankind known to exist within the Forbidden Zone, and vow to
exterminate them from the face of the planet----"
   "AYE!  AYE!  AYE!  AYE!" all but two of the orangutans, one-third of
the chimpanzees and all of the gorillas got to their feet, roaring and
stomping their approval.  They kept it up for more than three minutes
before Claudius could resume.
   "Those who wish to put themselves on the public record as opposed?"
he gazed up toward the chimpanzee section, as did all other eyes in the
amphitheater.
   Zira wasted no time, bolting to her feet.  Cornelius followed a
half-second later, determined to stand by his wife to the end.  Soon,
the remaining two-thirds of the chimpanzees, some looking reluctant,
were on their feet as well.  The two orangutans who had not joined in
the affirmative vote were remaining in their seats, as though they did
not want to give the impression of standing in the way, no matter what
their own personal feelings were.
   "Clearly, the majority favors the resolution," Claudius said in the
same neutral tone, "Ape Law has spoken.  Let us make no delay in
implementing the will of the majority.  This Assembly is now
adjourned."
   He rose from his seat and departed off to the wings of the
proscenium while the guard sounded the note for adjournment on his
horn.
   As the apes began to file out, General Ursus took the occasion to
make one final loud boast.
   "We will heed the directive and begin the Glorious Crusade
immediately!  We set out for the Forbidden Zone within the hour!"
   The gorillas all eagerly pumped their fists into the air and let out
several shouts as they followed their general out.
   Ten minutes later, Cornelius and Zira found themselves the only ones
still sitting in the empty amphitheater.
   "History may well record this as the beginning of the end of our
civilization," Cornelius said with a sad sigh.
   "If there be those left to write History," Zira kept staring out
into the empty amphitheater.
   The archeologist glanced at his wife and somewhat awkwardly squeezed
her hand.  Zira almost blushed as she felt her husband's touch and
then, looking about to make sure they were alone, gave him a quick
kiss.
   Finally, the two chimpanzees rose and left the amphitheater, still
holding each other by the hand more tightly than they ever had before.


   Boxey's journey through the tunnel had taken him through more than
twenty rusted, wrecked transport vehicles and had seen him pass what
seemed like several auxiliary stations along the way.  But always, the
red glow guiding him had kept motioning him to keep following the
tunnel to the very end and ignore the auxiliary stations.  And so, he
had resisted the temptation to vault up to the platforms at the places
marked CHRISTOPHER STREET, 9th STREET, 14th STREET and 23rd STREET. 
Whatever was guiding him clearly wanted him to go all the way to the
end of the line at the point marked 33rd STREET.
   Finally, the end of the tunnel was in sight, terminating in a much
larger station.  It gave the impression of being some kind of major hub
for travelers to get off at, and in all likelihood transfer to other
tunnels that led to other places.
   From the constant glow of the red light and the repeated blasts of
cold air though, it was clear to Boxey that he wouldn't be transferring
to another shuttle line.  He could see the glow pointing toward a
stairway that he was convinced led to the surface of what this city had
once been, if not back to the surface he had originally come from.
   Boxey tossed his survival gear onto the top of the platform and
vaulted himself up.  He stopped for a brief moment of rest to consume
another protein bar and finish off the first of his water bottles.  As
he rested, he cast a glance at some of the rusted, decayed wreckage
about him to see if he could figure out what it meant.  Above him, an
ancient mechanical chronometer stood permanently stopped at a time of
day he couldn't begin to figure out.  To his left, he saw a cracked
glass window and the rotted remains of unidentifiable objects.  It put
him in mind of a window display for a merchandising store.  He almost
suspected that the word etched into the wall to the left of the window,
GIMBEL'S, had been the name of that particular place of business.
   To the right of the window was the stairway leading up, where he
knew he had to go.  He felt a sense of trepidation rise inside him as
he repacked his gear and got to his feet.  But Boxey already knew that
the future of his people conceivably hinged on what lay above.
   He rubbed his fingers over his grandfather's medallion and took his
first step toward what he hoped would be the final phase of this
strange journey into the unknown. 


   After endless centars of wandering about through fields and forest
through the night, Starbuck felt as though he was going to collapse
from the strain.  In spite of the fact that he'd been unconscious for
most of the previous afternoon, he still wished he could lie down and
sleep for a whole sectan.
   Hera though, kept insisting they move on.  And he was past the point
where he felt like pulling rank on her.  As much as he wished he could
sleep, he was also consumed with a burning anger and hatred of the
entire siminoid society.  The sooner he could tell Apollo about it, and
see to it that an entire assault team of vipers was sent in to level
their civilization from Hell, the better he'd feel.
   The last centars of darkness had given them no conception of where
they were by the time daylight broke.  As a result, they'd simply
ambled from field to forest and back, always making certain there were
no siminoid scout patrols in the area.  Without any weapons at this
point, they knew that if one of them appeared, it would mean a quick
trip back to Ape City and back to the cages.
   Or something far worse than that, as Starbuck knew all too well.
   "Hold it," Hera stopped in her tracks and held up her arm.
   "What?" Starbuck sounded concerned.  "You see siminoids?"
   "No," Hera shook her head and then held up her hand to shield her
eyes from the glare as she looked ahead down the open expanse of field. 
"I see....Lords of Kobol, I see our vipers!"
   "Thank you," the grizzled captain rolled his eyes heavenward.
   The two warriors made their way across the field toward the ships,
and then felt the cruel sting of disappointment when they saw that they
had been vandalized.
   "Oh frack!" Starbuck moaned, "What happened?"
   "I think some of our brother humans got curious and pulled out all
the circuits," Hera sighed as she inspected the nose of her own viper.
   "That's gratitude for you," he snorted, "After all we did for them
yesterday."
   "Well, at least we've got our reference points straightened out,"
Hera said.  "The forest on the left leads back to the maize field.  Ape
City is then five miles to the southwest."
   "We haven't put enough distance from it then," Starbuck said, "Any
suggestions on where we can go from here, since we can't contact the
Galactica?"
   Hera seemed to hesitate slightly, "Well....yes, there is.  I can
take us back to where I hid from the siminoids yesterday.  Plenty of
water and food.  I'd say we're only four miles away from it."
   He noticed the look on her face, "But?"
   "No but," she said hastily, "I'm willing to head there if you feel
like it."
   "I do," Starbuck frowned slightly and wondered what it was that
would make her hesitate over something like that. "Lead on."
   Hera took a breath to alleviate the awkward tension inside her. 
Inside, she prayed with all her strength that when they reached the
lagoon there would be no sign of the blue-eyed primitive she had spent
an intimate afternoon with.  The last thing she wanted to do was have
to face him again.  If only because she didn't want to confront any
potential feelings of guilt.
   But then again, it was preferable to facing the siminoids again, she
reflected as she and Starbuck resumed their trek to safety.


   As Cornelius and Zira finished their walk back from the
amphitheater, they came into the main square of Ape City and saw that
General Ursus had wasted no time at all organizing his army for their
journey to the Forbidden Zone.
   "There must be more than two hundred of them," the archeologist said
with distaste as he and his wife moved over into an alleyway to stay
out of sight, "All of them prepared to spill as much blood as they
possibly can."
   "Will it end up being human blood, or theirs?" Zira mused darkly.
   At the front of the column of horses, they could see General Ursus
in the lead position holding his rifle triumphantly in the air as he
motioned the gorillas to begin their advance.  Within five minutes, the
pack had moved out of Ape City and out onto the trails that led first
to the jungle and then to the desert.


   It had taken nearly three hours for the landram to traverse most of
the desert areas, climbing up several hilly inclines and then forced to
move back down a sand dune on another occasion.  Twice, the heat
outside became so unbearable, that Sergeant Bernabe was forced to come
inside from the observer/gunnery post and trade places with Ares.  When
the older security guard found the heat too intense, Brent volunteered
to switch places for the next stretch.
   "See anything familiar?" Cassiopeia inquired of Rollins, as the
landram moved back to a level surface.
   "No," the American astronaut shook his head, still finding it hard
to believe that he was traversing over the ground where the city he had
grown up in once existed.  "It's......I can't begin to make you realize
how different this place is.  We might have----" he broke off.
   "Might have what?" Ares asked.
   Rollins drew up his shoulders, "The only thing I can think of is
that there was a war between the great nations.  A war that we'd been
trying to avoid for generations.  Maybe something.... God something
happened that finally set it off."
   "What kind of a war?" this from Athena.  "What was the most advanced
type of weaponry your civilization had?"
   "Nuclear missiles," Rollins said, wondering if the term had any
meaning for them.  It didn't take him more than an instant to realize
that it did, when he saw the reactions on the Colonials faces.
   "Nuclear missiles," Athena said in disbelief as she kept driving the
landram, "Ballistic missiles fired from ground level on an orbiting
arc, designed to destroy a city on the other side of the planet through
an explosion leaving the place a radon wasteland?"
   "That's right," Rollins said in amazement, "You're familiar with
them, I take?"
   "Long ago in the early history of some of our planets, before they
achieved a united government," Athena said, "They were never necessary
again after planetary warfare became an obsolete concept in our
civilization."
   "Lucky for you," Rollins sighed, "I guess we just never had an enemy
outside this planet to similarly motivate us.  But whatever happened,
at least thank God the ultimate weapon was never used.  Because if it
were, there wouldn't be an Earth still around."
   "The ultimate weapon?" Cassiopeia felt herself tingling with unease.
   "Yes," the colonel nodded, "A little thing called the Alpha-Omega
bomb.  Only three of them existed in the late 20th century.  I have no
idea if they were destroyed before the destruction took place, but they
couldn't have been used without destroying the entire planet."
   "How is that possible?" Athena was shocked by this revelation, "In
our technology, we've learned to develop laser weaponry that can
inflict massive levels of planet wide destruction, but how can a single
weapon destroy an entire planet?"
   "The way the principle works is that if it's set off, the ensuing
explosion sets off a chain reaction within the atmosphere that
literally sucks all the oxygen and everything else that makes the air
breathable out completely.  You'd have an Earth that became a planet
where the air is constantly on fire and burning until another chain
reaction would have to inevitably take place at the core blowing the
planet apart."
   "Why would your civilization have built such a weapon?" Cassiopeia
was horrified, "Especially when there was no outside invader to
conceivably use it against?"
   "It was meant as the ultimate bluff," Rollins said, "The idea is
that an adversary wouldn't run the risk of going to a regular nuclear
war that they felt they could win if the other side was willing to
destroy the rest of the world in the process by using the Alpha-Omega
bomb."
   "Incredible," Athena shook her head, as she maneuvered the landram
up an incline.
   "Major Athena!" Brent's voice came over the radio from outside. 
Already, he'd had no trouble adjusting to their equipment, "I think
we're nearing the end of the desert.  I can see some green areas off in
the distance."
   "That checks with our readings," Athena nodded, "We should be
reaching the beginning of the jungle areas in less than fifteen of your
minutes."  she paused briefly and then abruptly brought the landram to
a stop.
   "What's wrong?" Rollins asked.
   "Nothing," the senior Galactica warrior turned around, "Bernabe, go
out and trade places again with Brent.  I want to have a trained
warrior in the gunnery position for when we reach the habitable zones."
   The young sergeant nodded as he opened the door and stepped outside.
   "Are you expecting trouble, Major?" Rollins asked somewhat
quizzically.
   "Not necessarily," Athena said, "But since three of our own warriors
have disappeared without a trace, I think prudence dictates we be
prepared for the likelihood that there's something hostile there."
   The Air Force colonel, who had flown fifty combat missions in
Vietnam before joining the Astronaut Corps, nodded in understanding. 
"I see your point.  Brent and I have combat experience, but certainly
not with your kinds of weaponry."
   As soon as a visibly sweating Brent was back inside and the door
closed, Athena started up the landram again.  
   "Christ it's hot out there," the sandy-haired astronaut said as he
collapsed into his seat next to Rollins and gratefully took the offered
water bottle from Cassiopeia, "This feels more like we should be in
Arizona or New Mexico.  Not New Jersey."
   "The desert regions of our country," Rollins said to the Galactica
warriors, "Over three thousand miles away to the southwest."
   Cassiopeia faintly shook her head to indicate her amazement.
   "I guess you're planning on reconsidering when it comes to settling
on this planet," Brent said.
   "Not a bit," Athena shook her head, "We've always had contingency
plans on what kind of Earth we might have to deal with, including this
one.  We'll find a way to reclaim it.  Somehow."
   "You really think you can do that?" Rollins was amazed.
   "You'd be surprised to see what we're capable of," Athena said, "And
knowing my brother, who's the Commander of our Fleet, he won't give up
on Earth so easily."
   "I hope you're right," Brent said quietly, as he thought briefly
about his daughter and how much time she had left in the distant 20th
century that he desperately wanted to return to more than ever.  "I
wouldn't want to think that the Earth has no hopeful future at all."	
      

   "It should be in back of this forest region," Hera motioned.
   "I hope so," Starbuck felt himself wheezing slightly after the long
walk.  "After all this walking barefoot, I think I've rubbed both my
feet completely raw."
   "I know what you mean," Hera admitted, "My boots are the one piece
of clothing I wish I could have kept."
   "I wish I'd known where they stashed away mine before I made my
escape," Starbuck said as he followed her into the foliage.
   "One thing I've got to warn you about," she said, "If we encounter
any of those humans, don't say a word.  If they hear us talk, they'll
be hearing the language of the beasts that try to kill them.  They may
gang up on us and treat us as the enemy."
   "The way those brutes treat them, I don't blame them," the grizzled
warrior grunted, "Fracking monsters."
   Several moments later they heard the noise of the waterfall up
ahead.  Hera took another anxious breath as they reached the clearing
and stepped onto the rock formation just above the lagoon.  To her
relief, she saw that there were no humans gathered here.  She wouldn't
have to worry about seeing the blue-eyed one again, making a possessive
play for her, and then being forced to explain something to Starbuck
that she wanted to remain her secret forever.
   "We're in luck," she said aloud, "We have the place all to
ourselves."
   They both jumped in and relaxed in the lagoon's cool waters for more
than a half centar, helping themselves to some of the fruit that had
fallen off the surrounding trees.
   Hera was leisurely floating on her back when she heard the distant
rumbling noise.  She stood up and craned her head, trying to see if it
became more distinct.
   Starbuck, gorging himself on his sixth piece of fruit looked over
with concern, "What's wrong?"
   "You hear that?" Hera whispered.
   "No," Starbuck shook his head.
   "Listen."
   Starbuck had to cup a hand to his ear and then noticed it.
   "Frack," he whispered, "Equine beats for sure."
   "There must be more than a hundred siminoid scouts on the move,"
Hera said, "I don't think we should stay here."
   "Wait!" Starbuck protested as she swam back over to the ledge, "If
they're out in the field, why should we leave?"
   "Because we have to see if they go past us, or if they plan on
breaking up and searching the forest regions," Hera said with the
faintest edge of exasperation, "If we don't have some inkling of which
way they're moving, we can't form any coherent plans ourselves.  Now
let's get moving!"
   "But--" Starbuck tried to protest but to no avail as Hera lifted
herself out of the water.
   Sooner or later, I am going to have to start reestablishing my
position with her, he thought as he finally swam over to the ledge to
catch up with her.  


   The two hundred ape army of horseback riders was proceeding at a
medium-sized pace that would take them toward the Forbidden Zone when
General Ursus abruptly brought his lead horse to a stop on the incline
that offered an unobstructed view for the next five miles ahead of
them.
   "Binoculars!" he barked to his chief aide, Colonel Urko, who
promptly handed him a pair.  The gorilla looked through the lenses for
a minute, staring intently at the sight that was at first no more than
a tiny dot, and then began to take shape into something that he nor any
other ape had ever seen the likes of before.
   "By the Lawgiver," he said in amazement under his breath, "A
horseless vehicle."
   "What do you see sir?" Urko inquired anxiously.
   "A horseless vehicle," he repeated more loudly, "Those Demons from
the Forbidden Zone have more than just fire guns, they have horseless
vehicles!"
   "But how can a vehicle move without horses to carry them?" Captain
Quintus spoke up from the second column, "It's a scientific absurdity!"
   "Look for yourself, Captain!" Ursus roared and handed the binoculars
back to Urko, who in turn passed them to Quintus.  "And there is
clearly one human riding it!  It is unquestionably the vanguard of an
invasion force!"
   Quintus lowered the binoculars, an expression of shock on his face,
"The human wears the strange clothes the ones with the fire guns did."
   "Proving once and for all that Dr. Zira has the mental capacity of a
baboon when it comes to understanding humans," Ursus said with
delicious contempt.  "They think we can be intimidated by the sight of
something we have never seen before.  But we will show that superior
numbers can defeat their superior toys!  Advance!" he raised his arm,
"Advance!"
   The procession began to move again, rapidly picking up speed as they
closed the distance.


   "Oh frack!" Athena gritted her teeth as she checked her computer
scanner, "I took us too far to the west.  There's at least one forest
region separating us from the field area where the vipers are parked."
   "Should we backtrack?" Cassiopeia inquired.
   "We might as well just move forward and put us on a parallel track,"
the major shook her head, "Once we reach the spot, we can check them
out on foot."
   Just then, her scanner started to emit a number of large pinging
sounds.
   "What's that?" Rollins frowned.
   "We just got a number of lifeform contacts heading this way," Athena
frowned, "But according to this readout, they're not human."
   "Major Athena!" Bernabe's voice came through from the outside, "I
see something on the horizon about two miles distant.  Looks like a
pack of equines."   
   "You sure of that?" Athena kept her eye on the scanner.
   "Positive."
   "What's an equine?" Brent asked with slight befuddlement.
   Ares gestured with his hands to indicate size, "It's a riding animal
with four legs and a mane of hair around the neck----"
   "I think that's what we call a horse," Rollins said dryly.
   "Looks as though we'll need to comprise a dictionary for each of our
cultures to share," Cassiopeia quipped.
   "Bernabe, can you tell if it's a wild pack or if there are riders on
them?" Athena was still frowning at the scanner.
   "I can't make out who's riding them yet Major, but it's definitely
not a wild pack."
   "Wait a minute," Rollins moved forward to the front of the landram,
"How can that scanner of yours say there are no human contacts?  No
other species on Earth is capable of riding horses."
   "But the scanner----" Athena started and then stopped as she looked
out the window and her jaw fell open in stunned shock.
   "Major!" Bernabe shouted from outside, "Major, do you see it?  Do
you see it?"
   There was no response from Athena, or from Cassiopeia, Rollins,
Brent and Ares.  They could see the equines drawing closer and they
could now make out the creatures riding them.
   "My God," Rollins whispered.


   Starbuck and Hera had pushed their way to the edge of the forest
perimeter.  They kept themselves crouched low to get a clear view of
the gorilla army that they could already hear coming from their right.
   "Should be coming by any micron now," Starbuck craned his head to
the right, "Let's hope they just go past us and we can stay here for a
few more centars."
   Standing to Starbuck's left, Hera noticed something out of her
peripheral vision that caused her to glance away to the left.  Her eyes
promptly widened to the size of a triad ball and she frantically tapped
Starbuck's shoulder.
   "Starbuck," she whispered frantically, "There's a landram headed
this way!"
   "What?" the grizzled warrior turned to the left and he then saw the
unmistakable sight of a Galactica landram.  He could make out the brown
of a uniform jacket from someone perched in the gunnery position.
   "Lords of Kobol," he said, "Just one landram heading into a pack the
size they have, and they're going to end up in the same fix we've been
in."
   "We've got no choice," Hera said, "Let's move down to try and get
parallel to her and then make a break when she comes alongside us."
   "Agreed," Starbuck nodded as they moved off to the left through the
branches and foliage.


   From the gunnery position, Sergeant Bernabe stood frozen in numb
shock as he saw the equines draw closer, and could make out the
leather-clad siminoids riding them.  A creature he had only seen in the
long-ago depths of childhood nightmares.
   Inside the landram, the three Colonials and the two American
astronauts were equally shocked, unable to think of anything coherent
to say as Athena kept driving the landram toward the approaching pack
as though she were on automatic pilot.
   "That's not possible," Brent finally broke the silence, "That is
simply not possible."
   "We have to believe it," Cassiopeia tried to shake herself out of
her dazed disbelief, "Those are gorillas riding them, and they look
like they're an army waiting to charge us."
   "They've got guns!" Rollins blurted as he squinted his eyes and got
a better look.
   Athena finally snapped back to attention and hit the intercom,
"Bernabe, stand by on main gun!"
   There was no response.
   "Bernabe?" Athena repeated angrily, "Answer me, damn you!"
   Finally, the sergeant's voice filled the interior, "Sorry Major. 
Standing by on main gun."
   "The instant you see one of them so much as raise a weapon, you open
fire," Athena barked, "Understood?"
   "Yes sir!" Bernabe cleared his throat.
   "Athena, let's turn this thing around and get the hell out of here,"
Cassiopeia said with concern.
   "Not yet," she gritted her teeth, "Not until I get them to scatter."
   Over the noise of the landram engine, the five humans inside
suddenly heard multiple cracks as they realized that the advancing
patrol had come to a stop, a half mile away and opened fire on them. 
Rollins and Brent both scrambled to the floor of the vehicle and were
amazed to see that none of the three Colonials followed suit.
   "Numo fire only," Athena said as she quickly applied the brake and
brought the landram to a stop, "Our plating can withstand it.  You two
can get up."
   As the two astronauts got back to their seats, Athena impatiently
clenched a fist when she didn't see a red streak from the landram's
powerful main gun streak back across toward the gorilla army.
   "Bernabe, open fire!" she shouted into the intercom, "Get off your
astrum and open fire!"
   There was no response.  And then, Cassiopeia let out a horrified
gasp when she saw the body of Bernabe suddenly tumble in front of the
cockpit window and bounce off to the side.  In a split second, the
Chief Medical Officer had time to see that the young sergeant had been
shot right in the face.


   "Their rider is down!" Urko shouted triumphantly as he reloaded his
rifle, "We have scored the first kill!"
   "Prepare to advance!" Ursus bellowed.


   "Holy Frack!" Starbuck said in horror as both he and Hera saw the
body of the warrior in the gunnery position tumble off, "They're
totally defenseless now."
   "Never mind getting inside that thing," Hera said, "One of us has to
get to the gun."
   "Grab that warrior's laser pistol and we'll both man the position,"
Starbuck said, feeling his command instinct come back at last.  "Let's
move!"


   "Athena, we've got to get out of here!" Cassiopeia shouted.
   The black-haired major nodded and swung the landram around.  The
five passengers just had time to see the horseback riders begin their
charge again, as they also heard multiple gun shots clang off the metal
exterior of the vehicle.
   "Look!" Rollins suddenly pointed, "Something's coming at us!"
   Athena glanced to her left and saw two disheveled humanoid creatures
in skimpy garments crash out of the jungle perimeter and suddenly climb
up the side of the moving vehicle. 
   "What the---"
   They heard the footsteps above them and then their bewilderment
increased when they heard the gun go off and start firing at the army
that was now to the rear.


   Starbuck wasted no time settling into the gunnery position and
immediately trained the giant laser on the heart of the gorilla pack. 
The massive laser bolt that was capable of destroying a Cylon fighter
flying overhead had an immediate effect as it knocked out two gorilla
riders on the front line of advance
   "Enjoy this, you ugly hairballs!" Starbuck shouted as he trained his
fire on the middle of the column.
   Another barrage of gunshots from the army rang out and Starbuck had
to duck as he heard several of them whiz over his head.  Hera, who had
situated herself on the opposite side of the landram roof with pistol
in hand, stuck her head up and fired two bursts back.
   "Who's up there?" they both heard the intercom next to the main gun
crackle, "Identify yourself."
   Starbuck and Hera both recognized Athena's voice right away.  The
grizzled warrior motioned to Hera as he re-aimed the heading of the
gun.
   "You talk to her," he said, "She's your relative."
   "Yes sir!" she flashed a cocky grin at him as she kept her head down
and reached for the intercom.


   "Glad you finally showed up," Hera's voice filled the landram
interior.
   A burst of excitement went up from Cassiopeia and Athena as soon as
they heard her voice.  Ares didn't bother to react.  He was still
filled with stunned horror at the sight of seeing the young warrior who
had been his protege fall to his death.
   "Hera!" Athena said with relief, "Thank the Lords!"
   "I know, I'll fill you in later," her niece said.  "Starbuck and I
are holding up the procession for now, but the sooner you put some
distance between us and those siminoids, the better."
   "What about Boxey?"
   "I'm sorry, I don't know where he is," Hera said as she paused to
look back and fire another laser burst at the pursuing gorillas, "The
three of us got separated yesterday and I only found Starbuck last
night.  I only know that Boxey hasn't been taken prisoner and has to be
off wandering somewhere."
   Another clang sounded as more bullets ricocheted off the landram's
metal casing.
   "Doesn't this thing go any faster?" Rollins demanded.
   "This vehicle is meant for exploring, not combat.  We're going as
fast as we can!" Athena said as she pushed the throttle as far as it
could go, but the landram seemed only to wheeze a bit as it continued
moving over the field grass at the same speed.
   "They look like they can match our speed," Cassiopeia glanced at the
scanner, not ready to let herself be overwhelmed by the news that
Starbuck was alive, "If they end up overtaking us and try to cut us
off, we're in big trouble."
   "Hera, Starbuck don't let up with your fire!" Athena barked, "The
more of them you take out, the sooner they might think twice about
pursuing."


   Because Starbuck and Hera had to keep their heads down to avoid the
constant barrage of numo shots they were not able to return as much
fire as they would have hoped.  Even so, they had succeeded in taking
out more than fifteen gorillas from the front rows of the approaching
columns.  Enough to cause Captain Quintus to feel more than a tinge of
concern.
   "General!" he called over to Ursus, "They are retreating!  Surely
there is no need to continue the pursuit when we've already taken
casualties."
   The gorilla general turned and glared at the officer with contempt.
   "We have them on the run!" Ursus declared boldly, "And we keep
pursuing them until they're destroyed!"
   Another laser blast then struck two gorilla riders barely ten feet
away from Quintus.
   "Sir, at this rate the casualties will be too large!" the captain
called out.
   Ursus ignored him and motioned his arm forward again, indicating
that he wanted the entire pack of horseback riders to increase their
speed.


   Starbuck felt the thud of another bullet strike the metal just in
front of the raised platform that held the laser gun.  If the platform
hadn't been there, he knew it would have gone right through his chest.
   "They're still gaining!" Hera shouted as she tried to work in
another shot, but found it more difficult as the intensity of the numo
blasts increased.
   "Frack, how many rounds do they carry with them?" Starbuck grunted,
"Numos can't have more than a dozen shots per round but it seems like
we've had more than twenty rounds fired at us."
   "We can't hold them back indefinitely," Hera said, "I think we ought
to change tactics."
   "How?" Starbuck didn't look at her as he rose to get off another
blast from the gun.
   The blonde ensign motioned her arm up, "We've got some pretty tall
trees on both sides of us."
   Starbuck glanced quickly to his left and right and realized what she
meant.  He nodded and swung the cannon to the right, taking aim at the
base of two trees lining the perimeter of the field.
   The laser blasts sliced right through the trees and they began to
topple down toward the field.  The grizzled warrior then swung the gun
in the other direction so he could aim for the trees lining the
opposite perimeter.  One blast promptly fell two more tall trees that
collapsed into the field right in front of the charging army.  The
gorilla riders had no advance warning to confront the obstacle, and the
lead horses promptly tripped over the fallen trees and threw their
riders clear.  A chain reaction set in as the riders at the rear of the
column frantically tugged at the reins to get their horses to stop,
while many more in the middle and front of the pack collided with each
other.
   "Yaaaa-hooo!" Starbuck whooped as he saw the organized gorilla
charge degenerate into comedic chaos.  He took advantage of the new
situation and unleashed his most lethal bursts of gunfire on the
gorillas that were now growing smaller in the distance as the landram
sped on.


   General Ursus had been among those at the front of the procession
that had been unprepared for the trees falling across the field.  The
front legs of his horse bumped against the leaves and branches of the
fallen tree's upper region and it promptly caused the gorilla leader to
go sailing off his mount completely.  He landed on his shoulder and
might have broken it were it not for the thickness of the field grass
to cushion his fall.
   Ursus had barely gotten himself to look up when he saw the chaotic
confusion setting in as more gorillas were thrown from their mounts and
sent tumbling into the field grass while many of the riders at the back
of the pack were now colliding with each other as part of their frantic
efforts to stop and avoid the obstacles of the fallen trees.  He then
saw his riderless horse moving on and had to roll quickly to avoid
being trampled on.
   As soon as Ursus got back to his feet but before he could shout out
a new order, he was forced to get down again when a heavy barrage of
red fire erupted from the human transport.
   "Sir!" Captain Quintus shouted from amidst the chaos that had broken
out, "It's too much for us to handle!  We must with--"
   Before the gorilla captain could finish, a laser blast struck him
right in the chest.  Quintus fell off his horse to the ground, making
no movement.
   Reluctantly, the general realized that his forces had been dealt an
enormous setback and that there was no point in trying to regroup for a
pursuit at this point.
   "Withdraw!" he barked as he then moved off to the safety of the
forest perimeter to escape more of the laser fire that was coming back
at them.  "Withdraw immediately!  Withdraw back to Ape City!"
   One of the enlisted personnel blew the retreat call on his battle
horn, and the remaining gorillas who'd been able to maintain control of
their mounts began to move back.  Those who'd been thrown to the ground
had scattered about into separate groups of those trying to get control
of their horses again, while others simply turned and ran.
   Ursus remained hidden within the perimeter as he waited to be
certain that the vehicle had ceased its fire.  Only after five minutes
had passed did the general finally decide it was safe to follow his
retreating army on the weary trip home.


   "They've retreated!" Starbuck was grinning with an almost malicious
satisfaction that he'd finally gotten in some good licks against the
beasts he had come to despise with as much passion as he hated Cylons.
   Hera allowed herself a moment of relief and thanks that the
siminoids had been beaten back.  But tempered with that relief was the
reminder that her brother was still missing, a warrior was dead, and
the Fleet faced many troubling questions concerning their own future on
this planet called Earth.
   "Athena," she picked up the intercom, "We got them on the run.  I
think we'll be okay for now."
   "Thank the Lords," her aunt sighed, "Okay, we're heading back to the
Galactica immediately and give the Commander a full report.  We're too
crowded to let the both of you in, but I'll get some relief out for you
as soon as we reach the desert and put some more distance between us
and them."
   Immediately, Hera wanted to protest about the need to keep looking
for Boxey.  Still, she knew that her aunt's decision was the best
possible tactical procedure.  The Fleet needed to know about this
siminoid planet and formulate definite ideas.  The information she and
Starbuck possessed would be vital to that.


   "Where are you taking us?" Rollins asked with concern as he heard
the end of Athena's conversation.
   Athena didn't look at the astronaut, "We're going back to our
command ship, the Galactica, Colonel.  Our people need the information
on what Starbuck and Hera saw."
   Brent felt an uneasy sensation come over him as he saw his
commander's jaw slightly lock up.  From what he'd deduced about
Rollins' obsession with finding Taylor, the commander was not about to
leave willingly.
   Rollins wasted little time bearing his second-in-command's feelings
out.
   "Major Athena," he said politely, "I appreciate the fact that you
need to report back to your people, and I'm grateful that you've found
most of your missing comrades.  But Major Brent and I still have a job
to do ourselves."
   "I can't let you go, Colonel," Athena finally turned around, "For
now, you and Major Brent are the only two Earth people who can provide
us with some concrete information about Earth's past, and our commander
has to know that.  As soon as we can put a stronger search team
together, I'm sure we'll be more than happy to help you resume your
search for your missing friends."
   "After seeing what it is they're conceivably up against, I'm not
anxious to delay searching," Rollins kept his voice polite but firm.
   "Colonel, you and Major Brent wouldn't stand a chance all by
yourselves against those creatures, or against the desert, because
those are the only two places you can search.  From a practical
standpoint, it's best that you accompany us."
   "Major--,"Rollins started, but was cut off by his second-in-command.
   "Skipper, I think She's right.  If Taylor and the others are still
alive, we won't be able to do much for them without any kind of
reinforcements."
   Rollins glared at him for a minute as though he was angry that his
authority as commander of the expedition had been questioned in front
of the strangers.  It was clear though that the Air Force colonel
didn't want to make a scene, so he finally reluctantly nodded.
   "Okay," he said, "We go, but we sure as hell don't stay too long."
   Around them, the green lushness of the forests and jungles became
more sparse as the brown desolation of the desert started to take over. 
When the landram finally descended the difficult incline they'd
traveled up only a centar earlier, Athena finally decided it was safe
to bring the vehicle to a stop.
   "Okay," she said as she rose from her chair, "Cassie, let's get
Starbuck and Hera inside and start examining them.  Ares, you take
charge of the gunnery mount for now."
   The veteran security guard didn't move or respond.  He'd been
uncharacteristically quiet and mute ever since he'd seen Bernabe's
bleeding, lifeless body tumble in front of the landram windows.
   "Ares?" Athena gently repeated.  When the lieutenant still didn't
move, her tone grew angry, "Lieutenant!"
   Brent calmly nudged the warrior to get his attention.  Ares finally
looked up with a blank, indifferent expression.
   "I told you to get your astrum up on the mount," Athena said coldly,
"Now move!"
   "Athena," Cassiopeia said gently, sensing what was bothering Ares,
"Maybe we should just stop for now and have us all take a breather from
this.  We've put enough distance between us and them."
   The black-haired major pondered that suggestion for a moment, nodded
and then brought the landram to a stop along the desert surface.
   A second later, the outer door opened and Starbuck and Hera were
both poking their heads in.
   "Thanks a lot, Athena," Starbuck grinned, "As always, your sense of
timing is quite impeccable."
   Athena and Cassiopeia both did double takes when they saw how grimy
and disheveled Starbuck looked, and how he was wearing only a small
loincloth.  Their bewilderment increased when they saw Hera looking
roughly the same.
   "What in Hades happened to you two?" Cassiopeia stared in amazement
at her ex-husband.
   Starbuck collapsed into the chair vacated by Ares, who had stepped
outside.  At the same time, Brent had risen from his seat and yielded
it to Hera, who was staring quizzically at him and Rollins, both
dressed in their white NASA jumpsuits that automatically told the young
ensign that they didn't come from the Fleet.
   "Long and complicated story, Cass," he said.  Ordinarily, he might
have started with some typical Starbuck gallows humor, but not after an
ordeal like this.
   His ex-wife impulsively reached out and squeezed his hand.  He
looked up at her with a mixture of faint amusement and deep gratitude. 
This was the first time since their divorce five yahrens earlier that
he could recall her reaching out to touch him for any reason.
   "Major Athena, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask a question of your
friends first.  It's the only one I have," Rollins inquired gently.
   "Go ahead, Colonel," Athena nodded, knowing what it was the two
Earth natives from the past wanted to know, and figuring that he was
bound to get a quick no and they could move on.
   "Ah, Captain Starbuck, my name is Rollins and this is my friend,
Brent.  Before you tell your friends what they need to know, can you
tell me if you know anything about some people Brent and I are looking
for?"
   Starbuck stared at Rollins as he tried to figure out the meaning of
his question.  He then snapped his fingers as the light dawned.
   "Let me guess," the grizzled captain said, "You're not from our
tribe."
   "That's correct," Rollins nodded, "Brent and I are Earth natives who
came from Earth's past to look for some fellow space travelers who
crashed through a time barrier here."
   Starbuck slowly nodded as the details of the lengthy conversation
with Cornelius and Zira came back to him.
   "Of course," Starbuck said, "Now I get it.  Now it all makes sense,"
he paused, "Is one of those people you're looking for named Taylor?"
   From outside, Brent grasped his hands on the doorway so he could
lean in and listen.
   "Then you know where he is?" Rollins felt a surge of anticipation go
through him.
   Starbuck shook his head, "I never met him.  I know where he was, and
where he was last seen, but I haven't the slightest idea where he is
now."
   Incredible, Cassiopeia thought.  It's like we're part of some nexus
slowly coming together.
   "Well ladies and gentlemen," Athena was equally amazed, "I think the
time has come for another long session of sharing information with each
other.  Let's stay here for now until we're all up to speed on things."


   Boxey was unprepared for what he saw when he reached the top of the
steps that exited from the underground transportation station.  Around
him, he could see cavernous subterranean rock formations extending all
the way up where he could barely make out patches of daylight from the
distant surface above.  And mixed in with those rock formations were
the crumbling remains of towering buildings all about him.  Clearly
this had been one of the most important, if not the most important city
of this entire bygone civilization.
   It's almost like what Caprica City must have been like in the fifth
millennia, he thought with awed amazement.  Millions of people must
have lived here.
   Millions.  The thought was enough to almost make him cry in mourning
for what the Thirteenth Tribe had once been, and for what they had now
become.  It was as if the Thirteenth Tribe had been forced to endure
their own version of the Cylon Holocaust.  Thousands of yahrens of
accomplishments and civilization wiped out in only a brief period of
time.
   To Boxey's amazement, there seemed to be some kind of natural or
unnatural source of light that provided enough general illumination of
his surroundings, since there was no way any light from above could
penetrate this far down.  But the red glow that had guided him
continued to cast a stronger light, and still beckoned for him to
follow.
   He passed a building that towered so high that it's upper most
levels barely managed to penetrate the distant surface, one thousand
feet up.  Then, a left turn onto a street where a twisted sign still
proclaimed 5th AVENUE.  This was where the red glow now guided him.  He
sensed that it was on this desolated street, he would finally reach the
end of the trail.
   For a half centar he walked up the wreckage-strewn street.  Past a
stately looking building on the left where two leonine sculptures stood
silent guard in front of what Boxey didn't realize was a giant library. 
Past overturned transportation vehicles and more crumbling buildings. 
And mixed in with that debris, he could occasionally see a decayed
skeleton.  For just a brief micron, he shuddered and wondered if that
kind of ignoble fate had happened to the people who'd been struck down
in the streets by the Cylon attack on the Colonies.  Their bodies left
to decay and decompose to dust amidst the crumbling wrecks of their
homes.
   It only took another micron for him to realize that he could easily
have ended up like that himself, when he'd gone through the attack on
Caprica City at age six.
   Finally, he saw the red glow start to dissipate.  It now cast a glow
around one building only.  A building that seemed to have been full of
grandeur and dignity before the devastation.  A building with towers
and spires rising up that reminded him of the pictures he'd once seen
of a typical Kobollian house of worship.
   This was it.  The force that had cast the red glow across so many
miles, and had beckoned him inside from the desert above originated
here.  Inside the building where a faded, chipped sign still
proclaimed: ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL.
   He walked up the smashed ruins of some steps and then pulled on the
handle of a large metal door.  After fingering Adama's medallion one
more time for luck, he took a breath and stepped inside.
   What he saw matched his mental image of what a cavernous house of
worship would look like.  A vast open interior, rows of benches, and
some strange looking object on what looked like an altar.  A long
narrow object, about twenty feet long, standing upright.
   Is that supposed to be an object of veneration?  he thought
dubiously as he stared at it.  There were no markings on the silver
object save for two different symbols on the tail end that for some
reason looked vaguely familiar to him, though he couldn't figure out
why.
   The contours of the object were also beginning to strike a chord
inside him.  It almost resembled a.....
   Boxey's confused train of thought was suddenly disrupted by a sound
coming from his left.  A back and forth whirring sound that was
definitely familiar to him. 
   The sound of a Cylon centurion.
   The Galactica warrior went absolutely motionless.  Refusing to move
a muscle or breathe a syllable for almost a minute before his right
hand slowly went to his holster.
   Then, in one lightning quick motion he whipped out his pistol,
assumed the position and fired to his left.
   He could see the lone centurion standing with its own laser gun
raised.  And then, an expression of shock came over him when he saw
that his own laser shot had struck the Cylon right in the
breastplate.....and had no effect whatsoever.  The centurion remained
erect, moving toward him with gun raised.  
   What the frack.....?
   Boxey opened fire again.  The red streak impacted right on the
breastplate and once again had no effect.  It was as if the Cylon had
completely absorbed the blast and drawn strength from it.
   The Cylon opened fire and Boxey felt the horrible searing pain of
the blast striking into his body.  He staggered backward and clutched
at his chest, expecting to feel the burnt flesh of his wound.....Only
to discover that there was no wound on his chest.
   Slowly, the effects of the horrible pain dissipated as Boxey shook
his head and body and tried to catch his breath.  He stared at the spot
where he had felt the laser blast, and saw nothing to indicate that
he'd been shot at all.
   His gaze returned to the lone Cylon, who stood there like a statue. 
Never saying anything.  Never making another move.
   "You're not real," Boxey whispered at first.  And then, his voice
grew into a shout, "You're not real!"
   Abruptly, the Cylon vanished in the blink of an eye.
   A wave of anger rushed through the warrior as his head darted about
the Cathedral chamber.
   "All right, whoever you are, show yourself!" he shouted at the top
of his voice, his words echoing inside the cavernous building. "You've
led me all the way here, now show yourself!"
   He heard the sound of a door opening on the far side of the chamber
and promptly turned his head in that direction.  He could see a
relatively handsome dark-skinned man dressed in an immaculately clean
robe that reminded Boxey of the formal robes the members of the Council
of Twelve wore.  The only major difference was that this man also wore
some type of hood that clung tightly to the top of his head.  The man
had a neutral expression as he motioned his arm toward Boxey,
indicating that he follow him.
   Boxey kept his pistol drawn as he followed the man.  They went
through the door and then down a passageway that gradually sloped
downward.  When they reached the bottom, Boxey was surprised to see how
clean and new the corridor looked.  There were no traces of ancient
wreckage at this level.  Instead, there was an almost endless row of
sculpted busts lining the hallway on both sides.  As they moved on,
Boxey had time to glance at the names underneath each of the faces. 
MENDEZ III.  MENDEZ IV.  MENDEZ V.  MENDEZ VI.  On and on, the names
and numbers went all the way up to MENDEZ XXVI.
   Clearly this was a gallery of ruling monarchs over the many yahrens. 
And for whatever reason, each monarch always took the name Mendez.
   "Is your name Mendez?" Boxey finally decided to break the ice as he
kept following the dark-skinned man.
   The man didn't answer.  When they came to the end of the corridor,
Boxey noticed a ladder that led up.  Again, the man motioned Boxey to
follow him as he mounted the rungs.
   When they reached the next level, Boxey saw that they were back
among the ruins of the city, this time in a building that resembled the
transportation stations he had been in earlier.  But this one was far
more elaborate in design, and gave all the indications of having been
the most important one in the entire city.
   The dark-skinned one moved up a flight of stairs that led to some
kind of walkway that overlooked the main Concourse where Boxey now
stood.  He saw that there were three other humans standing along the
railing of the walkway looking down at him.  A light-skinned fat man. 
An older white man with gray eyebrows.  And an attractive looking woman
of about thirty on the far end.  Like the dark-skinned one, they all
wore identical white robes and hoods.
   Welcome.
   Boxey's head darted about as he tried to figure out where the male
voice that had spoken that word originated from.  None of the four
humans had moved their lips.  It meant that someone else had to have
spoken.
   Do not look around for others.  We are the only ones here.
   Boxey looked back at the humans and frowned.  None of them had moved
a muscle, and yet....
   "I hear you, and yet you're not speaking," the warrior spoke.
   You are quite correct, the male voice filled his ears.  Would you
prefer that we exercise the more primitive mode of speech?
   "Yes, I would!" Boxey vigorously nodded.  "Please."
   The gray-eyebrowed one stepped forward to the railing and looked
down at the Galactica warrior.
   "I, Mendez XXVI, bid you welcome," he said aloud, "We are most
grateful that you chose to heed our signals and come to us."
   "I'm sure," Boxey kept his tone neutral and diplomatic, "How did you
know I was up on the surface....."
   "We have our ways of knowing what goes on above us," the one called
Mendez said, "It is only what lies beyond our borders that is unknown
to us."
   Boxey blinked as he tried to figure out what that meant.  From all
indications, the man sounded like he was slightly crazy, but he wasn't
about to express that thought openly at this point.  Especially since
he'd already had a firsthand look at the kind of bizarre power these
people were capable of.
   "I'm assuming though, that you know who and what I am," Boxey said,
"That...illusion back there I saw.  You couldn't have summoned it up
unless you...."
   "We only have general impressions of who you are and where you come
from," the attractive female spoke.  "A quick observation of your mind,
enabled us to produce an image of the race that you fear the most.  It
was a test to confirm that you are indeed not of our planet."
   "I see," Boxey said with relief.  "That clears that matter up." 
   "But you have yet to completely clear up the matter of who you are,"
the fat man spoke for the first time.  "We only know that you come from
the stars, since the flying craft you came in is completely unknown to
us."
   "Yes, yes that's true," Boxey stepped forward.  "My people have
traveled a long way to find our brother humans, here on Earth.  You
can't imagine how relieved I am to finally find some intelligent humans
on this planet."
   "You have seen the primitive ones on the surface?" a hard edge crept
into the fat man's voice.
   "Yes," Boxey nodded.
   "Then you have seen much on the surface since your arrival."
   "Yes."
   "Our summons to you has not been in vain then," Mendez spoke again. 
"You are in a position to help us a great deal."
   "If I can," Boxey cautioned.
   "Can you tell us what you know of the apes and their plans?"
   The warrior stared blankly at him, "The what?"
   A dark cloud suddenly came over the faces of all four humans. 
Mendez, the fat man, the dark-skinned man, and the beautiful woman. 
Their reasonably benevolent expressions had suddenly grown hostile.
   Boxey suddenly felt an enormous wave of pain go through his body. 
First inside his head, he felt an enormous pressure building up as
though he'd been shot from the inside.  Coupled with that, was the most
aggravating sound he'd ever heard in his life filling his ears.
   He let out a sharp cry of pain as he collapsed to his knees and
rolled about the floor.  All of the manuals he had read about Cylon
torture techniques had not prepared him for this.  It was without
question, the most horrible pain he could ever have imagined short of
being killed.
   "Stop!..." he managed to spit out, as he rolled about the floor,
"Please......"
   "We will stop when you cease your attempts to deceive us," the fat
man spoke.
   "Deception is the mark of an enemy," Mendez added, "Those who wish
to deceive us, are entitled only to a full demonstration of our
capabilities."
   "I'm not...." Boxey moaned as he rolled about the floor feeling the
intense agony inside his head, ears and inner organs increase with each
passing micron, "I'm not deceiving you, I don't know what the frack
you're talking about!"
   The attractive woman suddenly grabbed Mendez's arm, "Perhaps we use
terminology that is unfamiliar to him."
   Mendez, the fat man, and the dark-skinned man looked at her
thoughtfully and then, one-by-one, they all nodded.
   Abruptly, Boxey felt the horrible pain inside him cease.  He gasped
for breath several times before he finally managed to get back on his
feet.
   "Let us put your theory to the test, Albina," Mendez said as he
looked down at Boxey, "I am referring to what you know about the beasts
that dominate the surface above.  The beasts called apes, who subjugate
the primitive ones and kill them for sport."
   Boxey closed his eyes and let out an agonized sigh, "The siminoids. 
The siminoids!  I know all about them, for sagan's sake."
   "My apologies," Mendez said politely but without too much regret,
"We did you a disservice.  It did not occur to us that you would know
them by another name."
   If these are the best examples of humanity the Earth has left to
offer, then we're in even bigger trouble, Boxey thought with both
disgust and alarm.
   "But now that we've settled that matter, you can help us," the woman
called Albina said in her lilting voice, "What do you know of the apes,
or the 'siminoids' as you call them?"
   The Galactica warrior took a breath, "I don't know too much," he
said, "I've seen them kill.  They're aggressive and brutal.  Right now,
they're holding at least one of my friends prisoner, perhaps two.  When
I saw your signal guiding me here, I hoped I might find some people who
could help me against them."
   "You have need of us?" this from the dark-skinned man, "To do what?"
   Boxey's confusion deepened, "Well to help me rescue my friends of
course.  To take some kind of counter-action against the siminoids.  I
can't do it alone."
   "Your own tribe can not assist you?" the fat man asked.
   "No," Boxey shook his head, "My ship was destroyed by the primitive
humans.  I can't contact my people for now, though they may have sent a
rescue team down by this point."
   "Tell us more about yourself," Albina urged.
   Boxey took a breath, "My name is Lieutenant Boxey.  I come from a
ship called the Battlestar Galactica.  I am one of 70,000 humans that
have spent the last twenty five yahrens searching for our brothers here
on Earth who settled this planet more than seven thousand of our
yahrens ago.  Since you are all human, then you surely must have some
knowledge of the fact that you are the descendants of the Thirteenth
Tribe of humanity."
   The four of them exchanged glances with each other, indicating that
what Boxey said meant absolutely nothing to them.
   "For us, Lieutenant, time has no meaning before the First Year of
the Bomb, two thousand years ago," Mendez said, "All time before then
is meaningless.  Our lives and our civilization begin only with the
Year of the Bomb, and the day when Mendez I built a new city underneath
the ashes of the old."
   They use the ancient Caprican term for yahren, Boxey realized. The
term the first Kobollian settlers would have used.  But that's about
the only sign of our culture that is here.
   "This....year of the Bomb," Boxey chose his words carefully, "Was
that when the war took place that destroyed the civilization above?"
   "All that was before the Holy Fallout descended upon us is unknown
to us," Mendez said cryptically.
   Fallout, Boxey thought.  Why does that sound familiar?  Then he
remembered his childhood physics classes and the session that had put
him to sleep about the effects of ancient nuclear weapons.  Weapons
that looked like.....
   Like what he had seen on the altar.
   "We have gotten ourselves sidetracked though, Lieutenant," the
dark-skinned man said, "You were saying that you desired our help
against the apes?"
   "Yes," Boxey tried not to let his unease show.
   "You would have us wage war against the apes?" the slightly dark
expression returned to Mendez's face, "Do you comprehend what you ask
of us in making this request?"
   An uneasy frown came over Boxey's face, "I don't think I do."
   "We are a race devoted to peace," this from the fat man, "As you
have no doubt observed, we are quite defenseless."
   "I don't think I did observe," Boxey mildly retorted, "That stunt
you pulled on me a centon ago was hardly the act of a defenseless
people.  Nor was conjuring the image of one of my own enemies."
   "Our powers of the mind are mere weapons of illusion," Albina said,
"We can only hurt our enemies, as you were hurt.  But have you been
permanently harmed?"
   "No," the warrior conceded.
   "Then what we say of being defenseless is quite true," Albina went
on, "The Traumatic Hypnosis we inflicted upon you is a weapon of
peace."
   Isn't this lovely, Boxey thought.  The humans on the surface are
primitive mutes with the minds of animals, and the ones down here who
can think belong in the Nuthouse.
   "If you're defenseless, then what about that missile I saw back in
the temple?" he wondered if that was the right word for an Earth house
of worship, "Isn't that a weapon?"
   The four humans stared at him with the most piercing expressions.
   "Your eyes have beheld our god," Mendez suddenly grew solemnly, "The
ultimate instrument of peace."
   It took Boxey a moment to realize the meaning of the ruler's bizarre
words.
   "My God," he whispered, "You worship a missile?"
   "The Holy Bomb," Albina spoke with reverence, "Blessed be the Bomb
Everlasting."
   Boxey stared at them with incredulous disbelief.  If he needed any
further convincing about the insanity of these people, he'd now been
given it.
   "You're crazy," he said, "You people are all crazy!"
   "Only to your primitive mind," the fat man retorted, "You, who come
from so far away could never comprehend the meaning of the Bomb."
   "I think I comprehend enough!" Boxey said, "I comprehend that it was
a mistake for me to come here and think that you could help me and my
people!  Instead, you just sit down here and worship an instrument of
destruction while your brothers on the surface are subjected to slavery
and torture by the siminoids."
   "We have kept ourselves noble and pure these last two thousand
years, free from the contamination of both ape and sub-human," Mendez
said, "It has been the destiny of each Mendez to maintain that purity,
just as it is for I, Mendez XXVI."
   "Tend to your own affairs then, Your Highness," Boxey injected as
much sarcasm as he possibly could, "I'm leaving this madhouse right
now."
   As soon as he turned around and moved two steps, he suddenly felt
the overwhelming surge of pain fill his entire body again.  The
searing, fire pounding inside his brain and his internal organs.  The
unbearable screech filling his ears.
   "You can not be permitted to leave," Mendez said softly, "For you
would surely bring others of your tribe upon us.  And then, inevitably
the knowledge of our society would reach the apes, who would make war
upon us.  Only so long as we are safely hidden, do we insure our
survival.  We only summoned you here to see if you knew what the apes
know about us, and if they plan to seek us out.  Clearly, you are not
of help to us in that regard."
   Boxey rolled about the floor in agony, wondering when it was going
to stop.  He knew that if he could get hold of his laser pistol and
fire it at them, he'd have a chance.  But the pain was too intense
inside his head and body to make him reach for it.
   "Remove his weapon," Mendez commanded, "It should become most useful
for our Teachers."
   The dark-skinned man and the fat man both descended the steps and
came over to Boxey's writhing form where they promptly removed both his
laser and his survival pack.
   "Take him away," the ruler added, "Perhaps he desires conversation
of a different sort."
   The two men grabbed hold of Boxey and dragged him out of the room. 
Down the corridor of busts featuring Mendez and all of his
predecessors.  Through another door leading to yet another immaculately
clean, white corridor.  Around them, several other robed humans were
gathered in conversation, occasionally stopping to take note of the
strangely dressed human who continued to gasp in pain as the
dark-skinned man and fat man dragged him along.
   Finally, they reached a door lined by thick metal bars.  The fat man
pressed a button and it slid open.
   Boxey felt himself shoved violently into the room and as he
collapsed to the floor felt the torturous pain inside him cease.  He
let out a series of gasps to catch his breath as he heard the door slam
shut.
   "Great," he muttered as he got to his feet, feeling a sense of anger
burning up inside him, "Isn't this fracking great!"
   "They're not very hospitable, are they?"
   Boxey wheeled around and saw a ruggedly handsome man sitting against
the far wall.  He was dressed in the loincloth of a primitive human,
but unlike the ones on the surface, was completely clean-shaven.  And
if he was a primitive, he was the first one Boxey had ever seen who
showed signs of intelligence.
   "Who are you?" Boxey frowned.
   The man sighed, "Someone who's been living a horrible nightmare for
the last six months and wishes he could wake up and find out that none
of it ever happened."
   He got to his feet and came up to Boxey with his hand outstretched.
   "We might as well get to know each other," he said pleasantly, "My
name is Taylor."

                    Chapter Eight

   "Okay," Athena said as she finished loading the surplus ammunition
into the landram, "That's all of the firepower we have, and for the
three of us that should be enough."
   "Unless there are just as many of these apes, or siminoids as you
call them, based here in the desert," Rollins said.
   "Not likely," the black-haired major shook her head, "Our scan
readings show no mass concentrations of lifeforms out here.  If Taylor
and Boxey are alive, they probably don't have any company."
   "If there are any more of those monsters, I'm ready to atomize
them," Ares said as he cocked his pistol and loaded it into his
holster.
   Athena took note of the bitterness in the security guard's voice and
then gave him a cold authoritative look.
   "You listen good, Lieutenant," she said, equally cold, "I know
you're upset about Bernabe and want all the revenge you can get.  But
if you're not going to give me a guarantee that you plan to follow my
orders and do exactly as I say, then I'll just strap your astrum into
the shuttle and you can go back to the Galactica with the others.  Is
that understood?"
   Ares didn't bat an eye, "Understood."
   "Good," she kept a trace of suspicion in her face before she moved
back to the shuttle where Cassiopeia, Starbuck and Hera were waiting,
along with Brent.
   "We'll keep our auto beacon active, so that when you return you'll
be able to lock on to us," Athena said, "Hopefully we'll have located
both Taylor and Boxey by then."
   "Athena," Cassiopeia said, "Do you really think it's a good idea for
you to stay?  Apollo has to--"
   "You can tell Apollo everything."
   "Well if Cassie can, then maybe I should--" Starbuck, who'd changed
into a fresh uniform, stepped forward.
   "No," Athena interrupted, "I'm expendable as far as a briefing goes. 
You and Hera aren't.  If Apollo's going to make the right decision as
far as what we do with this planet, he has to get the information
straight from the both of you," she then turned to Brent, "Major Brent,
thank you for volunteering to go back.  We need all the information we
can get from an Earth native."
   "I'm glad to help," Brent said, "Good luck with the search Major."
   "We're going to need it, aren't we?" Rollins smirked at his fellow
astronaut as he prepared to step inside the landram.  Before he
entered, his eyes locked onto Brent's and a silent communication passed
between them.  A faint nod of the head indicated Brent's
acknowledgment.
   The three Galacticans and the one 20th Century man then watched as
the landram started up and rolled off into the deeper regions of the
so-called "Forbidden Zone."  They kept their eyes on the shuttle until
it turned a corner around a mountain pass and disappeared from view. 
Each of them hoping and praying that their friends would succeed.  For
the Galacticans, it was the hope that Boxey would be found and that
he'd provide more hopeful news about what else there was on Earth.  For
Brent, it was the hope that Rollins would get his confirmation one way
or the other about Taylor's fate.  And with it, the critical
information on what had happened to the Earth that had sent the planet
into the depths of annihilation.
   Once they had that information, then there remained more hopeful
possibilities for them to put into effect.
   Hera finally broke the silence, "Let's go home now."
    

   Throughout the Galactica's bridge, there was an air of subdued quiet
as all of the personnel on duty continued going about their daily
assignments.  For most of them, it was the only safety valve they had
to mask the sense of letdown and disappointment they'd all been feeling
for more than a day now.
   At his console on the lower level, Major Omega continued to monitor
the main scanners and transmission channels as he'd done every day for
more than twenty-five yahrens.  Throughout his long yahrens of service
aboard the Galactica, he'd come to be regarded as a pillar of stability
who'd seen so many friends and fellow warriors come and go, some by
transfer and promotion, and many more by death.  But through it all,
Omega continued to endure.  It had long ago reached a point where many
younger warriors found it totally unlikely to envision a time in their
lives when the middle-aged Gemonese wouldn't be there at his familiar
station any longer.
   I'm a blasted slave to my job and this console, he thought with sad
resignation for perhaps the millionth time in his life. When I die,
they'll probably send my computer chip banks into space along with my
ashes.
   He stopped briefly and chuckled ironically when he remembered that
had been something Rigel had told him many yahrens ago when it became
painfully clear that their relationship wasn't meant to move ahead from
good friends and occasional lovers into the realm of total commitment.
   Damn it all Rigel, he thought.  I wish you hadn't been so right.
   Finally, his thoughts and regrets about his life and career came to
an end, when he saw some activity on his scanner for the first time all
day.
   "Colonel!" he called to the executive officer, who was stationed on
the upper level.  Sheba wasted no time descending the steps and coming
over to him.  
   "Anything new?" she asked.
   "I've got Alpha Shuttle on our scanner now, clear of Earth orbit,"
the veteran bridge officer said.  "She should be in safe communications
range in three centons."
   Sheba let out a sigh of partial relief, "Well at least we know
something's happened and we can finally move things forward a bit."
   She went over to the next station and picked up the telecom that
connected her to the Commander's office.
   "Apollo," she said, "The shuttle's returning.  You'd better get up
here."
   "On my way," her husband said quickly.


   Aboard the returning shuttle, the same subdued attitude that filled
the Galactica's bridge had also settled in among the four returning
people.
   "One more centon and we can contact the Galactica," Hera sighed as
she held the controls, "Cassiopeia, do me a favor and do all the
talking.  I'm not in the mood to explain things to the Commander just
yet."
   The Chief Medical Officer nodded, knowing how difficult it would be
to explain to both her parents that Boxey was still missing.  She knew
how close both Boxey and Hera were, and how it was probably taking all
of her energy just to keep a professional facade for now.
   "Do you really think for a micron that they're going to find
wherever this Taylor person is?" Starbuck asked as he stretched herself
in the spare uniform he'd changed into, feeling grateful that he was
finally properly dressed again. "That whole desert region is so vast,
it'd be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
   Brent glanced at the grizzled warrior with amusement, "Is that a
familiar metaphor in your culture?"
   "Yes," Starbuck shifted his weight in his chair, "I think it's an
Aquarian saying.  That's one of the planets we used to inhabit."
   "Then our two societies are more related to each other than we might
have initially thought," Brent said, "Some things from this planet
Kobol remain with us even after we forgot all about where we came
from."
   Cassiopeia got up from her chair and went over to her ex-husband,
who was still flexing the shoulder that had been shot twice the
previous day.
   "Did a siminoid really remove two numo slugs from you?" she asked as
she settled next to him.
   "Yep," he said, "Those beasts are ugly and evil, but they appear to
be efficient at least."
   "Starbuck," she tried to sound patient, "Are you absolutely sure
there's no point trying to reason with them?"
   "I'm sure," his voice was flat and full of finality, "Tomorrow we go
back in and level that godforsaken city with a dozen vipers and then we
can get on with rebuilding Earth."
   "If Apollo agrees," she cautioned.
   He looked at her in disbelief, "Why wouldn't he?  Cass, those are
siminoids.  The original Nightmare Machines come to life in a more
hideous form."
   "But Starbuck, didn't you say that those two scientists you spoke to
were not quite as--"
   "Just a couple of goons who aren't in any position to do anything,"
Starbuck interrupted, "As far as I'm concerned, keeping humans in cages
instead of shooting them hardly makes someone better."
   There was more hostility in Starbuck's voice than she could ever
recall in all the yahrens she'd known him.  Enough to make Cassiopeia
wonder if her ex-husband was pushing things much further than the facts
justified.
   And if that were the case, could he end up giving Apollo some bad
advice?
   "Cassiopeia," Hera motioned, "I think it's time you contact the
Galactica."
   She nodded and went back to the cockpit area.  As soon as she'd
settled next to Hera, she picked up her headset and activated the
communications switch, putting them on the secure frequency.
   "Galactica Core Command, this is Recon Shuttle One.  Request
immediate landing clearance in Beta landing bay."
   "Affirmative Recon shuttle," Apollo's voice filled the interior,
"Can I speak to Major Athena?"   
   "Major Athena has remained on the planet to continue the search,
Commander," Cassiopeia kept her tone neutral, "Captain Starbuck and
Ensign Hera are both alive and with us."
   "And Boxey?" the urgency became evident in the commander's voice.
   "Lieutenant Boxey is presumed alive but still unaccounted for," she
said with all the reassurance she could summon, "Major Athena thought
it wise to continue the search while we returned to provide full
information on what we already know."  
   There was a brief pause on the other end and inside, Cassiopeia
wondered how Apollo and Sheba were reacting to that information.  She
decided to press on and not wait for their next question.
   "We had one casualty," the Chief Medical Officer went on, "Sergeant
Bernabe was killed as the result of hostile alien fire."
   "Alien fire?" Apollo asked with abrupt bewilderment, "You mean
there's a hostile alien force down there?"
   "Affirmative," Cassiopeia sighed, not knowing how else she could
describe the spectacle of talking, intelligent siminoids, "We have one
of the crew from the Earth spacecraft with us.  His commander has
stayed on the surface with Major Athena and Lieutenant Ares to continue
the search for Boxey."
   "As soon as you've landed and gone through decontamination, I want
all of you to report to my quarters for a thorough briefing with myself
and Colonel Sheba," Apollo's voice went up to a tone of command level
firmness, but behind it, Cassiopeia could sense the hint of frustration
and anger that no one else might have been able to detect.
   "Understood," Cassiopeia said, "Recon Shuttle One out."
   Hera looked over at her and said with relief, "Thanks."
   "Anytime," she got up and went back to Starbuck, so she could
inspect the dressing that had been done on Starbuck's wounds, checking
for any signs of infection.
   "No problems as far as I can tell," she said, "I'd suggest coming
down to the Life Center for a full examination once we're done with
debriefing."
   "And I'll bet you're going to give me an earful about how this
proves that I'm too old to keep doing these kinds of missions?" he
half-smiled at her.
   The jocular edge of his remark was totally lost on her, as she gave
him a less than pleasant glare.
   "Starbuck," she tried to remain patient, "Did I say one word?"
   "No," he conceded, "But I know that look in your eye, Cass.  I saw
it enough times over the last eight yahrens of our marriage."
   "What does it matter what I think, Starbuck?" Cassiopeia retorted
gently, "We're not married anymore so why should you care what I think
about your fitness for front-line duty?"
   Starbuck felt slightly hurt by the harshness of her remarks.
   "I kind of thought you still cared, deep down," he said.
   "I do care," the Chief Medical Officer's voice softened, "Every day
of my life, I care about you and what happens to you.  I just don't see
what the point is in my telling you about it any longer.  You're a man
who's permanently set in his ways, Starbuck.  We both had to learn the
hard way that nothing I say can change you, and nothing that you ever
promise will change your basic nature.  So let's just both agree to be
friends and stay true to our own paths." 
   Starbuck felt a trace of exasperation escaping from him, "Cass, I
was just trying to make small talk."
   "Don't make small talk out of a subject like that, Starbuck," she
admonished, "If you want to make small talk with me, then do it about
triad matches or IFB programming.  But not about us." she paused and
then softened her tone a bit, "Not yet at least."
   Her ex-husband held up both his palms to indicate acquiescence as
she resumed her examination of him.
   On the other side of the shuttle, Brent had found himself growing
increasingly restless as the journey progressed.  The sooner he was
introduced to the full extent of Colonial technology, the sooner he'd
be able to develop the plan that he knew he and Rollins had to put into
effect.  And then, he'd feel much more at ease.
   For now, he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to show signs of
impatience or anything that could be interpreted by the Colonials as
hostile.  The best thing to do, was to be as congenial as he possibly
could.   
   "Hello Ensign," he said pleasantly as he settled next to Hera.
   The blonde warrior didn't respond at first.  Her hands held the
controls tightly and her expression remained focused on the vast
expanse of space that lay in front of them.
   "Ensign Hera?" he gently prodded.
   Hera jerked her head toward him and blushed slightly in
embarrassment, "Oh, I'm sorry, Major.  I didn't mean to be rude.  I was
just.....thinking."
   "About your brother?"
   "Yes," she nodded.  Boxey might not have been her flesh-and-blood
brother, but that had never mattered to Hera.  In the early days of her
childhood, Boxey had been a protector to her in every sense, giving her
a sense of confidence that she'd always felt was responsible for why
she'd been able to successfully tap into her own genetic instincts and
become a good warrior.
   "I know how you feel," Brent said with empathy, "I've been doing a
lot of that kind of thinking myself today."
   She returned her gaze to the starry expanse, "Your friend who was
killed in the crash?"
   "Yeah," he admitted, although that hadn't been the sole object of
his thoughts, "Captain Fowler was.....well you see, he was married and
had a child."
   "My condolences," she then chose her next words carefully, "Do you
have any children?"
   "One daughter.  She's fifteen." he then idly looked Hera over, "Only
a few years younger than you, I imagine."  Abruptly, he changed the
subject, "Are most of your people warriors?"
   Hera noticed right away how the subject of his daughter had to be
causing him considerable inner pain for him to change the subject so
quickly.
   "No, most of us aren't," she answered his question, "We've been
trying to maintain some semblance of a normal civilization while we've
been traveling through space."
   "I'm sure it hasn't been easy doing that," he said, "How determined
are these enemies of yours?"
   "The Cylons?" she let out a faint smirk, "Well, they've spent more
than a thousand of what you call years, trying to exterminate the
entire human race.  And even now, more than 50,000 light years and on
the other side of the galaxy from their home planet, they still have a
taskforce of warships nipping at our heels.  I'd say that makes them
very determined."
   Brent shook his head in disbelief, "It all seems so unjust.  Twelve
branches of humanity lose their civilization because of an outside
aggressor, and the one branch left on Earth finds a way to destroy
itself by killing each other."
   "Yes," Hera admitted, "My father's a very religious person though. 
Somehow, no matter how bad the universe seems, he always manages to
keep a secure faith that there's ultimately a reason for anything."
   "I may want to have a talk with him sometime about that," the
astronaut sighed and then leaned forward in his chair as he saw the
unmistakable sight of a ship coming into view.  As the massive contours
of the Galactica became more distinct, his jaw fell open in amazement.
   "Impressive sight, isn't it?" Hera said.
   "Yeah," Brent nodded, feeling a distinct sense of awe, "Very."
   Hera lined the shuttle up for the final approach and moments later
had guided it smoothly into the landing bay.

   Apollo sat alone in his office waiting for Sheba to arrive with the
four people who had returned from Earth, and to hear the full details
of what they had to say.  He knew that when that debriefing was over,
he would be making the most critical command decisions of his life.
   And already, he knew that he would have to make them with the burden
of not knowing whether his son was still alive or not.  As relieved as
he was to know that his daughter and his best friend were safe for now,
he still couldn't shake the uneasiness that Boxey's disappearance was
producing inside him.
   If it was true that Boxey was already dead, then he wished he could
have at least had confirmation of that.  Then, he wouldn't have the
gnawing uncertainty cutting into his ability to make critical
decisions.  But if he didn't know the outcome, and could cling to a
hope that his son was all right, then would it cause him to make an
unwise decision with regard to the rest of the people in the Fleet that
he was responsible for?
   For many yahrens, he had always marveled at how his father, within
mere centars of losing first his youngest son and then his wife, had
been able to make the most important decision any human had made in the
last seven millennia by gathering the survivors of the Holocaust
together to begin the long, treacherous journey that had taken them all
the way across the full width of the galaxy.  What made Adama such a
great man was the fact that he had not given in to his grief as a
lesser man might have on that occasion.
   As Apollo continued to ponder the uncertainty of Boxey's fate, he
now realized for the first time why his father had been so final when
he had offered the suggestion that maybe his mother Ila had not been at
home when the Cylon attack took place.  If Adama was to have the
strength and confidence needed to initiate a task as large as gathering
the survivors for a journey to Earth, he could not think for one moment
that there was any possibility of Ila being alive somewhere else
amongst the burning ruins of Caprica.  Because if he had allowed his
mind to believe in that faint possibility then he might have made a
rash decision that would have prevented the survivors from getting away
safely.
   This time though, there was no certainty for Apollo to confront and
then move on with a clear conscience.  And he was certainly not at a
stage where he could treat his son as dead and just move on.
   Damn, he thought as he held up a holopicture of himself, Boxey and
Serina from that long-ago day when they had been sealed in the
battlestar's Main Hall.  Why did I have to be given this kind of
dilemma?
   The chime from outside his office sounded, indicating that they had
arrived.  "Enter," he said firmly as he put the holopicture back in the
drawer of his desk.
   The door slid open and Sheba entered first, followed by  Cassiopeia,
Starbuck, Hera and a still-awed Brent, who hadn't been able to take his
eyes off most of the technical aspects of the giant battlestar since
they'd landed.
   "We're here to give you a full report, Commander," Cassiopeia took
her place in front of the desk while the rest of the warriors sat down
in the chairs that were spread out in the room.  "But first, may I
introduce Major Brent, second-in-command of the Earth spacecraft."
   Apollo extended his hand, "Major Brent, on behalf of the Council of
Twelve, I bid you welcome."
   "My pleasure, Commander," Brent took it, "I know there's a lot you'd
like to hear from me as an Earth native, but I think for now I should
defer to Dr. Cassiopeia and let her begin."
   "Not yet," Apollo said as he resumed his seat, "I've been told that
you come from Earth's distant past."
   "That's correct," Brent admitted.
   The commander then pressed several button on his desk console,
activating the wall monitor.  In an instant, the fuzzy images of the
gamma recordings filled the screen.
   "Is this spacecraft familiar to you?" Apollo asked.
   Brent stepped forward and squinted at the monitor.  "It sure is. 
That's the Magellan.  The spacecraft my friends and I were looking
for."
   Apollo then pressed another switch, and the face of the man making
the garbled journal entry replaced the spacecraft on the monitor.
   "You know this man?"
   The astronaut smiled thinly, "That's Colonel George Taylor,
commander of the expedition, and from what I've been told by your
friends is the only possible survivor left on Earth."
   Apollo switched off the console and resumed his seat, "Very well
Major, you've now confirmed that there's no possible reason for me to
doubt your story that you come from Earth's distant past.  Before we go
any further, please enlighten me as to what this expedition was all
about and how it is you came to be here in this time."   
   For the third time that day, Brent found himself explaining how four
of his fellow astronauts had left on a deep space expedition 2000 years
ago, and how he, Rollins and Fowler had left Earth two years later on a
rescue mission to bring them back to the 20th century.
   "This was your planet's first deep space expedition?" Apollo
interrupted at one point.
   "Yes," Brent said, "Prior to Colonel Taylor's flight, we'd only gone
no further than our moon.  The ability to travel at light speed to
another star system was....quite a sudden and revolutionary
breakthrough."
   "That explains why it would take you so much time to travel," Apollo
said as his mind fitted more of the pieces together.  "The most
primitive form of interstellar travel guaranteed that if you ever tried
to return home, you'd be thousands of yahrens older than you were when
you first left."
   "Which I assume, is not a problem in your society," Brent smiled
thinly.
   "It isn't," Apollo admitted, "But how exactly did you plan to return
to your own time, once you found your missing friends?"
   Brent felt his heart skip a beat.  The possibility that an advanced
civilization as this one had to be, wouldn't understand how to perform
the time travel method hadn't occurred to him.  And if they lacked the
means for it to be carried out....
   Stay calm, he thought.  Stay calm.  One way or the other, you are
going home.
   "Well Commander," Brent kept his voice level, "It really involved
performing the reverse of how we got here.  The chief scientist who
planned our expedition, Dr. Otto Hasslein, could probably explain it a
lot better than I could."
   "But I clearly won't have the luxury of talking to him, will I?"
Apollo matched Brent's thin smile.  "If it's hard to explain, maybe you
could sketch it out a little.  I think our scientists would find it
most illuminating." he motioned to a pencil and paper on the side of
his desk that he kept for idle doodling and sketching whenever he felt
bored.
   "This will probably take me a few minutes," Brent said
apologetically as he picked up the writing implements.
   "Go right ahead," Apollo said, "In the meantime, I think I should
let my own people update me on other matters of what you saw on Earth."
   Brent went over to the chair and table beneath the porthole and
threw Cassiopeia a silent communication that the Chief Medical Officer
instantly recognized as I can't wait to hear you tell him about the
apes.
   "Okay Starbuck," Apollo said, "Now that we've cleared up matters
regarding the Earth spacecraft, start from the beginning on what you
and the patrol saw."
   There was a tight-lipped expression on the grizzled warrior's face
as he rose and stepped in front of the desk.
   "Commander," he began in a low, solemn tone, "We are facing a
reclamation project of proportions far greater than any of us could
have envisioned.  In the two thousand yahrens since Major Brent and his
friends left the Earth, the Thirteenth Tribe of humanity has gone from
a fifth millennia civilization to one of total desolation."
   "I'd pretty much gathered that by now," Apollo said.
   "Yeah, well what you probably didn't gather is that all the humans
left on Earth are animals kept in cages by a race of intelligent
siminoids."
   Apollo and Sheba both froze as soon as the words came out of
Starbuck's mouth.  Brent glanced up from his sketching and found
himself resisting the urge to chuckle.  By this point, the whole
situation was beginning to strike the American astronaut as almost
comical in a perverse way.
   "It's true Father," Hera broke the stunned silence that had taken
over both her parents, "We saw it all."
   The two warriors recounted their experiences after they'd landed the
previous day.  Starbuck's captivity and interrogation by the apes. 
Hera's flight into the jungle and encounters with the primitive humans
(omitting any reference to her sexual experience with the blue-eyed
one).  Her rescue of Starbuck.  The landram's battle with the gorilla
army and the death of Bernabe.  The decision to search for Taylor and
Boxey in the so-called "Forbidden Zone," where according to the apes,
they suspected an intelligent race of humans still existed.
   "Incredible," Sheba said when they'd finished, "That's just so hard
to believe that...."
   For the first time, Apollo almost seemed shattered into
helplessness.  He still said nothing as he rose from his chair and
stared at the stars shining through the porthole.  As if he were
contemplating all the places in the galaxy they had passed along the
way for the last twenty-five yahrens.
   "The only good news I can report is that the siminoid society won't
be too difficult to dispose of," Starbuck went on, his face still
flashing signs of anger and desire for revenge. "They could cause
problems for a single warrior or a single landram, but a concentrated
strike would finish them in half-a-micron.  Their technology is very
primitive.  No weapons stronger than a numo.  No transportation beyond
an equine and wagon.  No automation whatsoever."
   Apollo turned away from the porthole and stared incredulously at
Starbuck.
   "Let me get this straight," the commander said, "Are you saying we
should attack them and wipe them out?"
   "That's exactly what I'm saying," Starbuck nodded vigorously,
"They're every child's nightmare come to life and worse.  My God
Apollo, the things they do to humans borders on the barbaric!  Compared
to them, the Cylons are charity workers by comparison."
   Apollo kept staring intently at Starbuck.  As another uneasy silence
came over the room, Brent awkwardly rose from his seat and placed his
notations and sketches down on Apollo's desk.
   "Thank you Major," Apollo acknowledged, "I think maybe for now,
you'd like to relax after your ordeal."
   "Thank you Commander, I could probably use a little rest." Brent
said gratefully.
   "Dr. Cassiopeia, please escort the Major to our VIP quarters as soon
as you get through with your medical debriefing.  Colonel Sheba, please
wait here for now."
   "Yes sir," Sheba nodded, masking all of the concerns raging inside
her.
   "You're all dismissed," Apollo said to the rest of the group.
   "Apollo, aren't you going to--", Starbuck protested.
   "This is hardly the time for me to make a snap judgment about
anything, Starbuck," the commander's tone was cold, "Not after what
you've told me.  This requires a great deal of careful thought. 
Nothing more."
   Starbuck seemed ready to continue his protests, even though he'd
known Apollo long enough to realize when the Commander's words were
final.  Only when he felt his ex-wife's grasp on his arm did he realize
that silence would probably be a better course of action.
   For now at least.
   As soon as the rest of them had departed, there was an uneasy
silence between the commander and the executive officer as though
neither of them had any idea of where to begin.
   "God, what a fracking mess," Sheba broke it.
   "Yes," her husband nodded, "The Contingency plan deals with a
primitive desolate Earth.  It doesn't however deal with how to handle a
hostile non-human population."
   "That's the price we pay for thinking of the universe in bipolar
terms of human and Cylon, like we've been doing all these yahrens,"
Sheba sat down.
   "I know," Apollo rubbed his forehead, "And with the singular
exception of the run-in with the Ovions at Carillon, we've completely
forgotten what it means to be up against a hostile race that's
intelligent and living.  Not some group of soulless machines like the
Cylons are."
   Right away, Sheba could sense an air of unease and discomfort in her
husband's voice.
   "Apollo," she said, "Is that why you were so quick to shoot
Starbuck's idea down about a military strike against this siminoid
colony?"
   "Yes," he didn't look up at her, "Behind all that venomous rhetoric,
Starbuck still described a viable thriving culture of living beings. 
And if my guess is right, these intelligent siminoids have probably
been controlling the Earth for.....God knows how many hundreds of
yahrens."
   Another silence filled the room.
   "We seem to have an awkward dilemma then," Sheba finally said, "On
the one hand, there's the desire to reclaim the Thirteenth Colony in
the name of humanity, and yet on the other hand it would mean we'd have
to do something that wouldn't be particularly noble."
   "It's a dilemma all right," Apollo sighed and leaned forward, "And
one that I am going to have to put before the Council as well.  Notify
the members to gather in the Chamber in one centar."
   His wife nodded and prepared to leave the room.  When she reached
the door, she stopped and looked back at Apollo who was still staring
down at his desk.
   "You'll probably hear a wide variety of opinions and perspectives
with no firm majority for any particular plan of action," Sheba said
pointedly, "And ultimately, they are going to defer to your judgment
and your judgment only, Apollo.  Don't come off as anything less than
the strong personality they've always admired."
   He looked up and half-smiled at her.
   "That's another reason why I love you," he sighed, "Your
never-ending ability to put me in my place."
   She returned it and then left the room, leaving Apollo alone to
dwell on a problem that even he could admit was far greater than the
matter of his missing son.

                    Chapter Nine

   Taylor wondered how many nights he'd spent in his cell dreaming the
same dream over and over again.  A dream about the 20th Century Earth
he had been so contemptuous of and so anxious to escape.  Dreaming of
things he'd always dismissed as idle trivialities that he could easily
jettison and never miss.  The comfort of his own bed in his Houston
apartment.  A lavish steak dinner at the most expensive restaurant in
town.  A night at the theater or symphony.  A ball game at the
Astrodome.  Images from a time and place he had expected to recede into
forgotten memories once he'd left on the Project Magellan expedition.
   And then, he'd wake up and find himself back in the cold reality of
his living nightmare.  For the last six months, ever since the Magellan
had crashed in the inland sea of what he now realized had been Long
Island Sound, he'd gone from one endless hell to another.  The brief
period of hope he'd experienced after leaving the Statue of Liberty
behind him and resuming his journey up the coastline with Nova was long
gone.  As distant a memory as the 20th Century was now.
   It had been so different those first three nights.  The time alone
with Nova had gradually restored his sanity and purged his bitterness
over the realization that all his fears about mankind had been borne
out.  For the first time, he had become aware of how much he really
loved the primitive female that Zira had provided him with in
captivity.  And even though he still hadn't succeeded in getting Nova
to try and articulate speech, he could begin to sense some kind of
reciprocal feeling inside Nova.  That she regarded him as more than
just a protector she could feel safe with.  That she loved him in
return.
   The second night, as they lay next to each other beneath a star-lit
sky along the coast, he'd finally noticed it.  For almost a week, even
before his escape from the apes' captivity, he'd noticed how Nova
periodically seemed to go into involuntary jerking motions.  On this
night, it happened again with even more frequency.  Playing a hunch,
he'd placed his hand on her stomach and waited.  And then, he finally
felt it.  A firm kick from inside.
   The realization that Nova was pregnant had produced a sense of near
euphoria inside Taylor.  A feeling of hope that his presence in the
future was no accident and that he'd be able to bring the human race
back a state of intelligence by siring a new race of intelligent humans
and teaching them the means to climb back from the jungle to
civilization.
   The next morning, their journey in search of a place to settle had
resumed.  Taylor had finally decided it was time to see what lay away
from the coastline and had begun investigating further inland.  And
then, the beckoning mouth of a cave, filled with a haunting glow of red
light and a blast of cold air had caused him to take a fateful step
back into the realm of shattered dreams and despairs.  A step he wished
with all his heart and soul that he could have retraced in an instant.
   Discovering the buried ruins of New York City had initially
fascinated him.  Walking past the ruins of the Empire State Building
and seeing it's upper floors barely breaking the surface above as
though it were a dying beast pathetically trying to climb it's way out
of the grave.  Stopping for an hour in the remains of the New York
Public Library on 42nd Street and seeing if there were any hints as to
how the catastrophe that had destroyed mankind had all begun.  He'd
found very little though.  Only the last editions of the New York
Times, the Daily News and the Post betrayed the date that it had
happened.  January 1998. Twenty-six years after he and the Magellan
crew had begun their journey into the distant future.
   Finally, he and Nova resumed their journey and came to the remains
of St. Patrick's Cathedral where the glow emanated from.  Initially,
Taylor had wondered if he was about to receive some kind of Divine
Revelation from the Almighty Himself.  Only to soon realize that he
might as well have come face-to-face with the Devil instead.
   And now....what was it, four months, five months later?  He was
still locked inside a lonely cell just as the Apes had done to him for
two months before.  Receiving only a periodic visit from his captors to
see if he'd changed his mind and decided to cooperate with them.  And
when he'd refused them yet again, they'd inflict another barrage of
their hypnotic powers on him, sending him into unbearable sessions of
agonizing pain.  All the while knowing that they wouldn't kill him,
because they knew how valuable he'd be if he only cooperated.
   And Nova.....what had happened to her after all this time?  He knew
his captors weren't stupid enough to have her killed, especially if
they held out hope that he'd cooperate some day.  Had she given birth
to their unborn child by this point?  And if so, what plans did his
captors have for his offspring, whom Taylor had hoped to be the first
of a new generation of intelligent humans?
   Every day, his mind pondered those questions.  And then, every night
he'd be haunted by dreams and visions of a forgotten life that he now
wished he could have back again.
   Today though, something new had intruded on his lonely days of
solitary suffering.  The arrival of a visitor that his captors had
shoved into his cell.  To his amazement, another intelligent human.
   He'd been so stunned and amazed that the 20th Century American
astronaut almost felt as if he were in a surreal dream when he found
himself smiling and extending his hand in friendship to the stranger.
   "We might as well get to know each other," he said, "My name is
Taylor."
   For a long moment, Boxey eyed him with suspicion.  The Galactica
warrior had been through so many emotional lows over the past day that
he wondered if it was possible for him to trust anyone on this planet
as a friend.  But then he realized that whoever this man was, he
clearly was not viewed favorably by Mendez and his cohorts so that had
to count for something.
   "Boxey," he finally took Taylor's hand and reciprocated the
handshake, "Lieutenant Boxey."
   Taylor's eyebrow went up, "You're a soldier?"
   "You could say that."
   "That makes two of us then," he chuckled mirthlessly, "A long time
ago, I used to be Colonel Taylor."
   "How long ago was that?"
   "You'd never believe me."
   "After what I've been through the past day, I'm prepared to believe
anything, Colonel," Boxey said, feeling a slight sense of relief come
over him.  This Taylor was the first normal person he'd encountered and
that offered the first tiny glimmer of hope that he'd been searching
for ever since he'd been parted from Starbuck and Hera.
   Taylor took a breath, "Would you believe me if I said it was two
thousand years?"
   The Galactica warrior's eyes bulged slightly for an instant. He then
quickly recovered himself and said, "I think I would, Colonel.  If that
is, you'd believe me if I said I came from another planet at the other
end of the galaxy?"
   The astronaut's jaw fell open in disbelief.
   "I'm not joking," Boxey said, "What's say we trade stories on how we
both got here?"


   Ever since they had watched the gorilla army depart on its crusade
to the Forbidden Zone, Cornelius and Zira had retreated to the
University Library on the other side of Ape City.  Burying themselves
in scholarly texts seemed like the only entertaining diversion they
could find.
   "Humph," Zira snorted as she held up a medical text on humans with
disdain, "'Studies of the human animal reveal no capacity for rational
thought or intelligence.  The idea that the human animal could ever
articulate or be trained to articulate in any meaningful way must be
regarded as a scientific absurdity.'"
   "They might as well move that text to the fiction section,"
Cornelius said dryly.  He was deeply immersed in a textbook study of
birds and how they flew.  Wondering if it were true that the humans
like Taylor and Starbuck really had unlocked a secret missed by ape
science that had given them the capacity to fly through the sky and
space.
   At that moment, Professor Sylvan of the University came over to the
table they were sitting at.
   "Your appeals for compassion did little good this morning, did they
not?"
   Cornelius looked up at the teacher with a neutral expression. 
"Perhaps not, Professor Sylvan.  But at the very least, we managed to
insure that the majority of chimpanzees will not have their hands
stained by the folly of what is about to occur." 
   "What if it doesn't turn out to be a folly for them?" the professor
asked gravely, "Barbaric as their goals are, it could still turn into a
success for them."
   Cornelius looked back at the textbook on the bird and slowly shook
his head, "They won't succeed."
   A wry half-smile came over Sylvan's face.
   "You put all of us in the awkward position of hoping for disaster,"
he said, "Chimpanzees will suffer tremendously if the gorillas can
claim a successful military triumph.  We might see ourselves displaced
as the middle class of ape society."
   "Better to be displaced while maintaining our principles," Zira said
haughtily without looking up at him.
   From outside the window that overlooked the main avenue of Ape City,
they could hear the faint sound of a military battle horn.
   "They've returned already?" Sylvan's brow furrowed in amazement.
   The three chimpanzees went over to the window and looked down into
the main town square where the gorilla army was approaching.  To their
amazement, the orderly procession that had left on horseback mere hours
ago now appeared ragged, disheveled and with many soldiers now on foot
instead of horseback.  There was very little semblance of the orderly
columns that had marched out of Ape City.
   "Perhaps our optimism for pessimism has been vindicated," Zira
noted, "We'd best investigate."


   Ten minutes later, an angry General Ursus was standing in the formal
office of President Claudius, with Dr. Zaius standing off to one side.
   "If I understand your report correctly, General," Claudius said
dubiously, "Your entire force was unable to handle one moving vehicle
comprised of no more than a handful of humans."
   "Unfortunately, yes," the gorilla general nodded, "But now that we
have some inkling of their weaponry then the obvious solution is to
regroup and attack with larger numbers.  Had it not been for the sudden
appearance of the two humans from the jungle who mounted the transport
and opened fire at us, we would have been on the verge of overwhelming
them."
   "You act as though this transport vehicle with the fire guns is the
only thing the humans have," there was a heavy edge of skepticism in
the Assembly President's voice, "If there's one of them, how could we
discount the possibility of more of them?"
   "This vehicle was poised to attack!" Ursus thundered, "Why send out
only one vehicle with such weaponry if there are more?  No, my dear Mr.
President, this was the limit of what they have and even with our own
losses we stopped their advance!  With additional forces, we can surely
get past them altogether!"
   "And where do the additional forces come from, General?" the
President acidly retorted.  "Your entire expedition amounted to more
than forty percent of the total male gorilla population.  Now unless
you're suggesting that female gorillas take part in the next campaign,
am I to assume that you want me to start conscripting from the ranks of
orangutans and chimpanzees?"
   "If need be, then yes!" Ursus was defiant.  "The whole of Ape
Civilization may be at risk and it is the patriotic duty of all apes to
take part in defense of our homes if there is no other alternative."
   Claudius stared at him for a long moment and began to drum his
orange colored fingers on the table.
   "Tell me something General," his voice was calmer, "When you
encountered this moving vehicle, did they immediately open fire on
you?"
   The gorilla general seemed caught off guard by the question.
   "Mr. President, I don't see what-----"
   "I thought as much," Claudius interrupted with mild disgust, "In
other words, the instant you saw that it was manned by humans you
opened fire."
   "Of course I did!" Ursus said angrily, "Would you have expected any
less of me after our commitment to war?"
   "Perhaps not," the President conceded, "I find it interesting.
That's all." he then went back to the sheaf of parchments on his desk,
"You're dismissed, General."
   "Mr. President, the order to regroup with a new force must be made
with all due haste!  I----"
   "I said you're dismissed, General!" Claudius angrily got to his
feet, "Obey my order or I'll have you removed from your command!"
   Ursus glared at him with anger and contempt and finally departed
without giving Claudius a customary salute.
   The President settled back in his chair and shook his head, "How
long ago was it that my predecessor, the esteemed Flint, appointed him
head of the Ape Police?" he let out an exasperated grunt, "I think he
shows signs of having been in the job too long."
   "Perhaps," Dr. Zaius spoke for the first time, "Unfortunately, there
are no gorillas different from him."
   "You were very quiet throughout the conversation, Dr. Zaius,"
Claudius looked up at him, "Are you suddenly having second thoughts
about your bellicosity?"
   The Chief Scientist smirked faintly, "Hardly.  Ursus is a fool, but
we still have no choice but to regroup for another attack.  Not with
conscripted apes perhaps, but another show of force would help."
   "Perhaps under more thoughtful leadership?" the President leaned
back, "Yours perhaps?"
   Dr. Zaius didn't skip a bit, "As old as I am, Mr. President, I would
consider it an honor to accompany a second expedition.  Perhaps if I
were to go, it would set an example to all orangutans that they too
should volunteer for service if events come to that."
   "Thereby sparing us the need to resort to an odious tactic like
forced conscription of orangutans and chimpanzees?" Claudius smiled
wryly, "Ingenious.  In an instant, you not only solve a political
problem for me, but also the problem of Ursus and his overly
temperamental leadership of our forces." he paused, "Very well, Dr.
Zaius.  I will put you in strategic command of the operation and allow
Ursus to retain control of tactical matters.  Give our forces a day to
rest and recuperate, and you may set out tomorrow for the Forbidden
Zone."
   "Thank you, sir," Zaius respectfully bowed his head.
   "There is one condition I must attach in granting you this," the
President held up a hand, "And this in fact, is the reason why I think
it's better for you to be there as my representative.  You are not to
fire first on any intelligent humans you encounter.  Wait until they
fire the first shot.  If there is any chance at all, that you can have
a productive discussion with one of their representatives that will
avoid bloodshed and keep them clear of our territories forever, then
that is by far a better outcome for all of us."
   The Chief Scientist frowned, "What brought this on?"
   Claudius brought his hairy fingertips together, "I've been doing a
lot of thinking about what our friends Cornelius and Zira have said
about humans," he said, "And as painful as this is for me to consider,
there is a chance that what they say could turn out to be right.  And
if that is true, then we cannot commit suicide against an enemy we
cannot defeat."
   Zaius stared at him in amazement, "Are you serious?"
   "I'd be a fool not to consider the possibility," the President said,
"And if you can't consider it either, then you're as big a fool as
Ursus is."
   "Mr. President, you know fully well that war is not my first
instinct or desire," the Chief Scientist responded, "Before the rampage
took place, I was fully prepared to do all I could to see to it that no
push for war became necessary."
   "Granted," Claudius conceded, "But even though we have suffered the
indignity of the rampage, I think it best that we keep a tiny ray of
hope open to ourselves that all-out bloodshed can be avoided if it
becomes clear that our best interest is in doing that.  And if you
accompany the expedition as strategic commander, acting in my name,
you'll have a much better chance of discerning that than Ursus or any
of his underlings ever will."
   Dr. Zaius paused to reflect on the President's words and finally
nodded in understanding.
   "If the situation demands tempered reasoning, I will be the first to
overcome my hatred for men and do what is best in the greater interest
of Ape Society," he spoke, "You can expect no less of me, Mr.
President."
   The Assembly President leaned back and smiled, "I hoped as much."


   Several hours had passed since Taylor and Boxey had begun exchanging
stories with each other.  Now, with the both of them finished, the two
humans from different times and places now stared at each other with
equal expressions of fascination and incredulity.
   Taylor finally broke the awed silence that had lingered for several
minutes.
   "Really ironic," he said, "I left Earth to try and find something
better than man, and your people tried to find Earth to find something
better than what man had done to your own society, letting it be
destroyed."
   "And we both ended up here, in this nightmare from Hell," Boxey
sighed, "Brutal siminoids on top, and insane humans underneath.  I
don't know which is worse."
   "Neither do I," Taylor sighed, "Although each day I spend here,
makes me think that these crazed mutants have to be worse than the apes
because they could have kept humanity going after the whole catastrophe
happened, but instead they......" he trailed off and shook his head.
   "Do you know what happened to your civilization that started this
whole process?" Boxey asked, knowing that this would be important
information to give to Apollo.  "Was it some kind of war?  I saw
indications of that in the debris I inspected."
   The American astronaut nodded, "It was war all right.  Don't ask me
how it happened, because all I know from the fragments of old
newspapers I found in the Public Library is the date.  Apparently in
January 1998, nearly two thousand years ago, there was a nuclear war
between the great superpowers that decimated more than half the planet. 
This particular city, New York, miraculously escaped total destruction
because the missiles aimed here missed their targets and landed more
than thirty miles to the east, out in what's now the desert territory I
initially landed in."
   "That explains why that whole area is lifeless then," Boxey noted.
   "Yes.  And, from what I've been able to piece together from what
little information I've gotten from these mutants, the multiple missile
impacts all over the world, in addition to causing high levels of
radiation poisoning, also caused a number of geological and
meteorological catastrophes to take place in the years afterward. 
Tidal waves, earthquakes.  Within five hundred to a thousand years, the
aftershocks triggered by the nuclear war had totally altered the
natural topography of this part of the country.  Creating mountains and
desert out of areas that had once been sea-level flatland.  And
simultaneously, those areas to the west that had not been as affected
transformed over time into jungles and forests."
   "But what caused the siminoids, or apes as you call them, to rise
into an intelligent species?"
   Taylor sighed, "The same thing that caused the topographical changes
over time also altered the genetic structure of numerous species of
animal life.  Some species were wiped out altogether.  But the apes
were different.  They're the one type of animal that most closely
resembles human beings.  They're also the one type of animal that had
been taught to perform and think like human beings in many ways.  Of
all the species that were capable of evolving into something rational,
they were the one."
   "And the war, and all the cataclysms afterward triggered that
evolution?"  Boxey was amazed.
   "Evidently," Taylor said, "I don't know how long it took them, but
within a thousand years, they'd overrun all the remaining human
survivors above, and the humans retreated back into the jungles and
basically became savage mutes."
   "Except for these people."
   The astronaut looked him in the eye, "These aren't people as we know
them, Lieutenant.  Oh sure, they look that way on the outside but that
isn't their normal appearance."
   "What do you mean?" Boxey frowned.
   "I've seen their real faces," Taylor's voice grew slightly ominous,
"The one time I managed to escape from this hellhole for a brief
period, I stumbled in on one of their worship services inside the
Cathedral.  Whenever they gather to worship their god, they 'reveal
their true selves' as they put it."
   "Huh?" the Galactica warrior's befuddlement increased.
   "Those are masks they wear," Taylor said, "A superficial resemblance
of what their ancestors were once like.  Because underneath the masks
is what two thousand years of exposure to radiation and fallout has
done to this colony." 
   There was an edge of underlying terror inside Taylor's voice that
almost made Boxey's skin crawl.  Clearly, whatever the astronaut had
seen had been enough to badly frighten him.
   As if Taylor had read his mind, the astronaut said, "When I saw it,
I was so shocked, that's why they were able to recapture me.  I thought
I was going to lose my mind when I saw what they really look like. 
Although if I really stopped to think for just one minute, I shouldn't
have been surprised."
   "Do me a favor, Colonel," Boxey said gently, "Don't give me a
description.  Not today at least."
   Taylor smiled thinly without mirth, "No point in repulsing you
needlessly, Lieutenant, so I won't tell you....today."
   "Can you explain then how this society developed itself?  And why in
the name of Kobol do they worship a missile?"
   The 20th Century man let out an ironic laugh, "Where I come from,
man believed in God because the Holy Book said the Almighty created him
in His own image.  Well, you can say the same thing of these misguided
wretches.  They worship a nuclear missile because a nuclear missile
made them what they are.  It was only natural for them to make it an
object of veneration once the first generation that had lived before
the Holocaust died off."  
   Boxey nodded his head as he remembered the bizarre words Mendez and
the others had spoken.  "To them, time began with the war and what the
bombings did to the world.  And all that happened afterward."
   "Exactly," Taylor said, "And what makes it even more sick is the
kind of bomb they worship.  Those misguided bastards probably don't
realize the full magnitude of what that bomb could do."
   "Incinerate the entire colony for a ten mile radius at least."
   The astronaut shook his head, "Try the entire world." 
   The Galactica warrior was caught off-guard by the remark. "What?"
   "The entire world," Taylor repeated, "That particular missile is a
special kind.  It's called the Alpha-Omega Bomb."
   Boxey suddenly slapped his hand against his forehead, "Those symbols
on the tail end!  Now I know why they looked familiar.  Ancient
Sagitarian symbols for Alpha and Omega."
   "That's interesting," Taylor said, "In our culture, that language
was the ancient language of the Greek nation.  In that case, you
probably know what Alpha and Omega means."
   "'The first and the last.' We use the term Alpha to denote the first
in a series.  Omega is used more as a proper name though," he said,
thinking only for an instant about the Galactica's long-time Bridge
Officer. "But how in God's name could there be a single weapon capable
of destroying the entire planet?"
   "A little souvenir of the arrogance of my own time," the astronaut
sighed as he stared off into the corner.  "My government built it
because they were afraid their enemies would do the same, and that if
they didn't do it, the other side might succumb to the temptation they
could win a nuclear war.  Therefore, it was important to build a weapon
as terrible as the Alpha-Omega Bomb as a nice wonderful deterrent in
the name of peace."
   Boxey noticed the sarcasm increasing with every word Taylor spoke.
   "Maybe you're being harder than you should be on your government,"
the Galactica warrior finally spoke.
   Taylor turned around and stared quizzically at him.
   "Look at it this way," Boxey said, "The war came and they still
didn't have the nerve to use it.  If they had, then we wouldn't be here
now."
   For the first time, Taylor almost found himself chuckling.  The
warrior's words struck him as funny in a strange, ironic way.
   "You know," he said, "For some reason, that never occurred to me. 
But then again, the way things are now, maybe it would have been better
off if they had used it back then."
   "What for?" Boxey scoffed, "Then there'd be no Earth left, and no
hope left at all."
   "Is there any hope left?  You've seen things for yourself,
Lieutenant.  Your people won't find anything of value here.  Not on
this planet."
   "Felgercarb," Boxey interrupted, oblivious to Taylor's ignorance of
the term, "Decimated or not, this planet is what my people have given
twenty-five yahrens or years of our lives trying to find and settle so
we can have a place to fight back against our enemy."
   The American astronaut's quizzical stare deepened.
   "Is that what you really want this planet for, Lieutenant?" he asked
gently.  "So you can go on fighting your damned wars?"
   "The war we're fighting isn't like the one your people fought,
Colonel.  We never asked for it.  It's not our fault that a bunch of
machines decided for no good reason that they had some kind of duty to
exterminate all life forms in the universe.  Starting with the human
race."
   Taylor rolled his eyes and let out a mirthless chuckle.  "Even on
the other side of the galaxy human beings can't keep themselves out of
war and disaster.  Everywhere he exists it's all the same."
   "It's not the same!" Boxey found himself starting to lose his temper
and patience with Taylor. "We were a unified people, Colonel.  We'd
developed a thriving civilization and....."
   "Then why didn't you win the damned war, Lieutenant?" Taylor acidly
retorted.  "If your tribe was so great and so smart and so perfect,
then how in God's name could you lose a war to a bunch of machines and
be forced to fly all the way across the galaxy to find Earth?"
   Boxey eyed Taylor with an increasing amount of disbelief.  Taylor
was the first man he'd ever met in his life who could be classified as
a misanthrope.  A hater of his own race.
   "The machines didn't suddenly get smarter in one night after a
thousand years of fighting, did they Lieutenant?" Taylor pressed on. 
"Or would it be safe for me to say that your Holocaust happened as a
result of some gigantic fuck-ups on your end?"
   In an instant, the Galactica warrior realized that if he told Taylor
the full truth, he'd be confirming the astronaut's harsh judgment.  The
betrayal of humanity by Baltar, a human who had risen to power through
unethical means to begin with, had been the single factor that made the
Holocaust possible.  Human failings and human corruption had caused the
fall of Colonial civilization even more than the Cylon fire of
destruction in the final analysis.  Just like human corruption had
resulted in the Thirteenth Tribe's destruction.  And the bitter legacy
of a planet comprised of brutal intelligent siminoids and primitive
subhumans above, and demented humans below.
   "Okay Colonel," he softened his tone, "Okay, I admit it.  We got
ourselves in our predicament because we had the same flaws that your
people had two thousand yahrens ago. The human race is a flawed race
comprised of flawed people, and there is always the potential for the
flawed instinct to run amuck and lead humanity down the garden path of
disaster.  But let me tell you this, Colonel Taylor.  The only reason
why there's still one fragment of human civilization left after all
this time is because of the courage and wisdom of some good men who
were left after the Holocaust.  If the human race were totally bad,
there wouldn't have been any of us left to come all this way across the
galaxy to look for Earth."
   "And yet what is your first instinct going to be, once you decide to
go ahead and settle here?" Taylor shot back, "You'd have to clear out
the apes, clear out the mutants, tame the primitives.  Somehow, I don't
get the impression that you'd be acting in a democratic fashion in
order to take charge.  It would require brute force on your part."
   "Only if we were forced to so act, Colonel," Boxey held his ground,
"Knowing my father as I do, I don't think his first instinct is going
to be for a military strike and simply conquer the Earth because it's
our Divine Right.  As revolting as I find the siminoids and these
people, there has to be good faith negotiating before it comes to
anything like that."
   "'Good faith negotiating,'" Taylor said with sarcastic irony, "That
reminds me of the kind of bullshit I used to hear from my own
government about what they were doing while they justified building all
the weapons of destruction."
   Boxey almost felt like exploding with frustration.  But at the same
time, he didn't want to run the risk of antagonizing Taylor into
becoming an enemy.  So far, the American astronaut was the first
intelligent human he'd met on the planet and was the only potential
ally he could count on.  If he was to get himself out of this
predicament, he needed Taylor's help.
   "Look Colonel," his voice grew patient, "Let's save the
philosophical debate for another day.  It's in our best interests to
work together and figure a way out of this place."
   "Good luck," Taylor sighed with resignation, "I've been locked up
here for months and still haven't figured a way out since my one
unsuccessful attempt."
   "And unfortunately for you both, that day will never come."
   The two men looked over and saw standing outside the cell the tall,
imposing figure of the dark-skinned man who had led Boxey to Mendez.
   Taylor shook his head in disgust, "What now, Melchior?"
   "It has been most interesting to watch the conversation between the
two of you," the man in robes said, "Unfortunately there can be no
future conversations."
   "Great," Boxey said sourly, "What cell have you got fixed up for me
now?"
   "It is not another cell for you, Lieutenant Boxey," Melchior's voice
grew solemn and grave.  "Since it is clear that the two of you together
constitute a potential threat, one of you must be disposed of."
   Before either of the two humans could react with another retort,
Melchior abruptly shut his eyes and both Taylor and Boxey felt searing
waves of unbearable pain go through their skulls.
   "Our doctrines of peace do not permit us to kill anyone," Melchior
went on as the two writhed about on the floor in agony, "That is why
our enemies must be turned against each other.  And now, you must both
fight to the death in a contest of wills that only one can win."
   Slowly, Taylor and Boxey got back to their feet and their eyes met
each other.  Feelings of cold, venomous hate coarsed through each of
their bodies as they felt their fists going up.  Feelings that they
both knew had been planted inside their minds by the mutants, but which
they were powerless to stave off.
   Abruptly, Taylor charged Boxey full bore and slammed into the
Galactica warrior with a powerful blow to the body.  In an instant,
Boxey had responded with a left punch under the astronaut's chin.
   From outside the cell, Melchior kept his eyes shut in intense
concentration, mentally willing the feelings of hate into the prisoners
and prepared to keep it up until one of them was dead.


   The Galactica landram continued its lonely trek across the desert
terrain trying to find traces of the two men they were searching for. 
Inside, the atmosphere among Athena, Ares and Rollins had gotten
visibly frosty.  Athena knew that Ares was simply obsessed with finding
an opportunity to avenge his protege's death, while Rollins was equally
fixated with Taylor, and whatever plan he had for returning to his own
time.
   A plan that Athena already knew she could not allow to succeed.  As
much as she didn't like to admit it, there was going to be a point
sooner or later when both Rollins and Brent would become her
adversaries.  For now, she simply hoped that phase could be put off for
as long as it possibly could.
   "We're approaching the coastline," the major finally broke the
silence, "According to Starbuck, this was where Taylor and his woman
were last seen heading."
   Rollins glanced out the side window and could see in the distance
the blue waters of what had to be the Atlantic Ocean.  Ever since the
arrival, he'd been trying to see if there would at least be one
tangential sign of something he would recognize, if only to drive the
point home in his mind and heart that this really was his planet, 2000
years later and utterly destroyed.  He had grown up in the New York
area and known this region like the back of his hand.  But so far,
there'd been nothing.
   He strained his eyes to the north and finally thought he saw
something.  At first, it was just a large blurry shape that he
initially thought was just another rock outcropping lining the coast
line.  He soon realized that it was too dark in color for that.
   "Just a second.  I think I see something over there," he pointed. 
   Athena brought the landram to a stop and concentrated her scan beam
in the direction Rollins was pointing.  She looked at the readout. 
"Indications are that it's a structure made of metal.  Buried partially
in the sand."
   "Let's move in closer."
   The landram started up again and moved closer to the distant
contact.  Rollins found himself rubbing his fingers anxiously as he
waited to see it grow more distinct.  Finally, Athena pulled the
vehicle to a stop a scant hundred feet from where the cliff dropped off
to the coastline more than three hundred feet below.
   "We'll have to get out for a visual inspection," the major said. 
The astronaut nodded as he unhitched his belt and stepped outside. 
Here, the heat of the desert had dissipated and the fragrant, salty
breeze of the ocean was blowing in. With a feeling of trepidation,
Rollins made his way to the cliff's edge and cautiously looked down.
   He felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he saw below
him the unmistakable shape of a massive hand holding a torch.  Attached
to a body where the head was lined in the unmistakable contours of a
crown.  All of it half-buried in the sand and weathered to a dark,
rusty brown after more than 2000 years of exposure and neglect to the
elements.
   Rollins stared at the remains of the Statue of Liberty with his hand
covering his mouth and chin for what seemed like an eternity to him. 
He had known that sooner or later, he'd be confronted with a sight that
would drive the point home to him about what had happened to Earth. 
But seeing something as noble and proud as the Statue of Liberty in
this ruined state, a mocking shadow of her former pride and glory,
seemed like an indecency to him.
   He suddenly found himself filled with the childhood memory of
visiting the Statue for the first time on a Fifth Grade field trip and
how terrified he'd felt when the tour group of rowdy school children
had gone up inside the torch to look out at the spectacular vista of
New York Harbor.  His fear had been caused by an Alfred Hitchcock movie
he'd seen at the old Roxy Theater the night before, Saboteur.  A World
War II espionage thriller that climaxed on the Statue with the Nazi
agent falling to his death from the torch.  When he'd stood in that
torch for the first time, the cinematic image of the man falling to his
death had filled his mind so much that he was convinced that one of his
classmates would bump into him and he'd tumble out and fall to his
death the same way too.  He'd gotten so hysterical that his teacher had
finally been forced to drag him back inside to the observation level
below inside the crown.
   And now, 2000 years later in another time and place altogether, he
stood above that very spot that had caused so much childhood trauma for
him.  He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony of the whole
thing.
   "Colonel Rollins?"
   The astronaut turned around and saw a mildly concerned Athena
standing behind him.
   "Oh, I'm sorry Major," he said apologetically.  "I was just, that
is...." 
   "I think I understand," she nodded, "You recognize that?"
   "Yes," he nodded.
   "When you stepped out, the scanner suddenly went off the scale," she
looked off to the north, "There are massive indications of metal
structures, a lot of them buried, about ten kilometers that way."
   "I know what that means," Rollins said quietly, "We've finally
stumbled onto the remains of the city that used to be here."
   "Then we'd better check it out.  It's logical that Taylor and Boxey
might have stumbled onto it themselves."
   As Rollins followed her back to the landram, he found himself
thinking of all the things New York was noted for and that had made him
love the city more than any other spot in the world.  The Broadway
theaters.  The Metropolitan Art Gallery.  Yankee Stadium.  The cozy
restaurant called Pete's Tavern down in the Village where he'd proposed
to his wife.....
   He felt his eyes tearing up and he shook his head vigorously to get
himself out of his dazed stupor.  The last thing he needed to do was
suddenly get sentimental.  All that mattered now was getting back to
the job.
   And once that task was done, there was nothing that could blunt his
determination to get back and undo all that had happened to his planet.


   The news of the gorilla army's quick and hasty retreat from it's
encounter with one human transport vehicle had spread rapidly
throughout Ape City.  Once they had learned the full details, Cornelius
and Zira wasted little time summoning the same group of chimpanzees who
had been at their house the night of the rampage.
   "One transport vehicle turned them into a bunch of laughing-stocks,"
Zira noted dryly as she moved up and down the living room where all her
friends had gathered. "And I think it's safe to say that we can assume
that what this Starbuck said about over 70,000 humans with the capacity
to wipe us all out is true."
   "Let's assume you're correct Zira," the physician Galen said, "What
options do we have apart from demanding an end to the military
campaign?"
   "We insist on a policy of meeting these humans with conciliation if
they show themselves to us!" the psychologist said sharply, "The only
hope we have to save ourselves from destruction is to meet them as
friends."
   "That's all well and good, Zira," Sylvan interjected, "But I'm
curious as to what you suggest we do in the event they aren't
friendly?"
   "That is a non-factor, Professor Sylvan," Cornelius joined the
discussion, "We are already making the assumption that this human
colony possesses weaponry that would decimate us.  We cannot beat
them----"
   "I wonder," Sylvan cut him off.
   "My dear Sylvan," this from a scientist named Milo, "You are
beginning to sound like a gorilla."
   "Oh stop!" the university professor suddenly lost his temper,
"You're all just as bigoted as they are in the final analysis.  Well
maybe it's possible that in this instance, they're correct.  Maybe it's
possible that what's needed to defend our civilization is unity against
a common threat.  Perhaps the gorillas alone can not handle them but if
we were all united----"
   "Are you really serious?" Zira's eyes widened, "Our code as
chimpanzees is dedicated to pacifism----"
   "If you're trying to tell me that a chimpanzee's code of honor is
worth more than the survival of our civilization Zira, then I think you
are just as mad as Ursus and his lot!" Sylvan fired back, "If there's a
rational way to avoid war, that's fine and well.  But I am not about to
go along with any proposal that translates to suicide.  And I will do
all I can to keep you from mobilizing all chimpanzees behind such a
policy."
   "And have us go off to war instead?" Zira held her ground.
   "If we have to," the professor accented the first word.  "In the
name of the Lawgiver, Zira, your prejudice against the gorillas is no
better than theirs toward us."
   "Even if we grant your argument Sylvan, what are you suggesting we
do?" Dr. Milo interjected, "Stand back and wait to see if the humans
are hostile or friendly?"
   The professor looked about the room with his arms folded, "I think
it would be the most prudent thing to do."
   "I stand corrected," Zira said with contempt, "It's not a gorilla
you're thinking like Sylvan, it's more an orangutan!  Everything in the
name of expediency instead of what's right."
   Galen rose from his seat in obvious disgust, "Since it is obvious
that no consensus exists among us, I see little point carrying this
discussion on.  Perhaps when events progress further in the next couple
of days, the time will be more ripe."
   "Agreed." Milo nodded and got to his feet, "Galen, if it's not much
bother, I'd like to examine the bodies of those killed last night by
the fire guns.  Perhaps they might reveal some hidden clue as to what
makes these humans tick, if the effects of their weaponry can be more
easily understood."
   "My facilities are at your disposal, Dr. Milo."  Galen said politely
as he then turned back to his hosts. "Good day, Cornelius.  Zira," As
soon as the physician left, Milo followed with a courteous nod as well,
while Sylvan left without saying anything.
   As soon as the door closed, Cornelius threw his wife a disgusted
look, "Zira, there are times I don't know why I ever put up with your
impetuousness!"
   "Because you know that I'm right, that's why!" she huffily retorted.
   "Of course I know you're right, but....." he broke off and shook his
head in defeat.  There was no way he could prevail when he knew that
her vision was the correct one.  Even he had to concede that was more
important than having a streak of tact.
   "We could always just leave," he mused aloud, "If it turns out that
destruction is what we face, we could always get out of here before it
happens."
   "What kind of solution is that?" Zira scoffed, "Where would we go
to?"
   "I don't know," Cornelius conceded, "But maybe it's possible that
somewhere else on this planet, far beyond the Forbidden Zone, there's
some society, human or ape, that's fared better than our pitiful lot
has."
   "I'm not prepared to concede that," Zira said, "As impetuous and
ill-mannered as that Starbuck was, I could also sense that he didn't
come from a race of brutes.  Until I see what their representatives are
like, I intend to stay."
   He smiled wryly and came over to her.
   "I sometimes think you suffer from a perpetual martyr complex,
Zira," he said, "Maybe you're not as much a pacifist as you think."
   She was on the verge of retorting sharply when she realized the
jocular intent of his remark.  She managed to smile back and took her
husband's outstretched hand.


   Rationality had completely left Taylor as he and Boxey continued
their death struggle in the cell.  The astronaut's eyes had grown wild
and red like that of a mad beast as he again grabbed hold of the
warrior and managed to slam him against the far wall.
   As Boxey felt the impact of his head against the wall, the same
instincts of rage, hate and the desire to kill filled his mind and body
as well.  But a tiny crack of sanity remained present in his mind,
understanding what was happening to the both of them and why the mutant
called Melchior had decreed it.  And within that tiny crack of
rationality, the Galactica warrior was struggling desperately to recall
something his father had once taught him several yahrens ago. 
Something Apollo had been taught yahrens earlier by Adama.....
   What?  his mind screamed out helplessly as he felt himself prepare
for another mad charge at Taylor.  The question still rang out even as
he crashed into Taylor and sent the astronaut backward where he slipped
and slammed shoulder first into the other side of the cell.  What was
it?  Some special training course in......
   From the corner of his eye he saw the cell door swing open and
Melchior enter, holding a spike tipped steel club.  One blow to the
body from such a weapon, especially in the upper regions would
certainly mean instant death.
   "The hand-to-hand struggle has gone on long enough," the white-robed
man said as he tossed the club to the floor, "Let us see who best makes
use of this."
   In an instant, Taylor lunged for the deadly weapon and then
collapsed when Boxey grabbed the astronaut's leg and dragged him back
to the floor.  Taylor let out several wild grunts as he tried to shake
himself loose from Boxey's grasp so he could grab the club and complete
the only task filling his mind.  The strain finally proved too much for
Boxey, and Taylor wriggled free of the warrior's hold.  As Boxey
scrambled to his feet, he saw Taylor grab the club and in one angry,
frenzied motion swing it directly at Boxey's head.
   The warrior darted to his right to avoid the blow and the spiked
head of the club impacted against the wall, burying a deep hole in the
wood surface.  As Taylor reached for the club to pull it out, Boxey
wasted no time in ramming the astronaut directly in the chest again. 
Taylor fell backward and grabbed hold of Boxey's arm causing the
warrior to collapse directly on his chest.
   Boxey now felt his hands going about Taylor's face, on the verge of
gouging his fingers right into the astronaut's eyes.  If it hadn't been
for the tiny spark inside his mind screaming What? over and over, he
would have allowed his rage to take control to the fullest extent and
proceeded with mutilating Taylor's face into an unrecognizable bloody
mess.  But still, he briefly hesitated, trying to let his mind drive
the force implanted by Melchior out.
   Of course!
   As soon as the realization hit Boxey, he felt Taylor's teeth come
down on his hand in a savage bite.  The warrior pulled it back and saw
blood flowing from a deep gash just as Taylor shoved him back across
the cell.  The astronaut then instinctively grabbed at the club that
still protruded from the wall until it came loose in his hands.  Taylor
then eyed Boxey with savage hatred as he began to slowly approach the
warrior, swinging his club slowly in an ominous, back and forth motion.
   Boxey moved back defensively, trying to anticipate where Taylor
would finally bring down the force of the club and its lethal, spiked
edge.  A blow to the arm or leg would be serious.  To the head would be
fatal.
   Taylor swung the club toward Boxey.  The warrior jumped and the
weapon passed only through air.  Taylor swung again and Boxey had to go
into a rolling dive across the floor to avoid being hit again.  He
looked up and saw Taylor moving toward him again, this time more
slowly.  And then, the astronaut let out a hate-filled snarl as he
cocked his arm back and prepared to bring down the club squarely on
Boxey's head.
   The warrior went into another roll, and as the club crashed against
the floor, Boxey delivered a solid kick to Taylor's wrist.  He gasped
in pain and dropped the weapon which Boxey wasted no time in snatching.
   Even in his irrational, hate-filled state of mind, Taylor realized
the mistake he'd made and began to back up into a defensive posture. 
The roles were now reversed as Boxey began to approach in ominous
fashion toward Taylor, swinging the club in the same to and fro motion. 
When Taylor felt his body touch the back wall, the astronaut promptly
put his hand over his face as though he felt he'd run out of all other
options.
   Boxey swung the club high in the air above Taylor's head.  And then,
just as it reached the angle where it would have begun it's downward
descent, the Galactica warrior hurled it across the room where Melchior
stood in the doorway.  The sharp steel tips of the ball end promptly
impacted right in the chest of the dark-skinned man's white robes.
   Melchior's eyes widened in shock as he grabbed at the club that was
now impaled in his body at an ugly angle.  An enormous red stain began
to spread across his robes as the arteries running into his heart were
severed.  Too weak to pull it out, the dark-skinned man collapsed to
the floor.
   Boxey came up to Melchior's writhing form and glared at him with
contempt.  The dark-skinned man had given up trying to remove the club
from his body and was instead reaching up to the hood on top of his
head.
   "In....death," Melchior barely managed to croak his words out,
"I.....reveal my true self....to my god."
   The warrior's eyes widened in astonishment as he saw Melchior pull
and tug at his hood and face until it began to peel off.  Seconds
later, as his last dying breath escaped, Melchior's true appearance was
at last visible to Boxey.
   There had been nothing in Taylor's warning to prepare him for the
revolting sight Boxey now saw.  The face of the handsome dark-skinned
male had now been replaced by a hideous, hairless, deformed face with
more than eight layers of outer skin missing and the remaining surface
badly deformed and splotched with many scars.  The eyes were almost
totally sunken within the frame.   2000 yahrens of exposure to the
effects of the nuclear holocaust had taken an unforgiving toll on the
descendants of the original survivors of this colony.  It had
completely stripped away their human appearance and left all of them
hideously deformed. 
   The sight finally proved too much for Boxey as he turned away and
retched.  He was still staggering from the after-effects when he felt a
hand on his shoulder.
   "Are you okay?"
   He looked back and saw Taylor standing by him with a concerned look. 
All of the hatred and rage was gone from him now and his normal
expression had returned.
   "Yeah," Boxey took a breath and felt his composure come back. 
"Yeah, I'm okay.  How about you?"
   "Like shit, but normal again," Taylor said and then noticed the
blood flowing from the gash in Boxey's hand, "Here let me help with
that."  The astronaut ripped off part of Boxey's uniform sleeve and
fashioned a tourniquet that he wrapped around Boxey's hand.
   "Thanks Colonel," Boxey grunted, "You have very sharp teeth."
   "Sorry," Taylor smiled thinly as he tied the tourniquet knot and
stemmed the flow of blood from Boxey's hand, "How in the world did you
manage to shake free of his influence?"
   The warrior shook his head in disgust, "All along, the solution was
staring me in the face.  Something my father taught me a long time ago
about a special training program in mind control