Greetings From Space Family Robinson By: Paul Robison October 2004 A Battlestar Galactica/Lost In Space/Space Family Robinson Crossover Battlestar Galactica is the property of Universal Studios & Glen A. Larson Productions, (c) 1979. Lost In Space is the property of Irwin Allen, Space Productions and 20th Century Fox Studios (c) 1965. Space Family Robinson is the property of Gold Key Comics, (c) 1962. All are used without permission but with no intent or anticipation of monetary gain. This is solely for my amusement as well as the amusement of whoever else may read it. SPOILERS: "Greetings from Earth" (Battlestar Galactica) "Baltar's Escape" (Battlestar Galactica) "Experiment In Terra" (Battlestar Galactica) "The Reluctant Stowaway" (Lost In Space, Season 1) **************************************** Prologue: From the Adama Journals: Morbus. Who or what was he? Obviously, one of the most enigmatic figures ever encountered by the human survivors. He was discovered amid the wreckage of a large spacecraft on a lonely asteroid, and brought aboard the Battlestar Galactica. He claimed to be of a higher degree of being than we were and demonstrated this through his powers of telekinesis, telepathy, and a direct power over the will of others. This last power, as I recall, brought Baltar to the Council of Twelve to stand trial for High Treason. Some people also credit him with greatly increasing the output of our Agro Ships. These feats greatly impressed the Council of Twelve and gained Morbus a large popular following among the people of the fleet as well. His offer to lead the fleet to the legendary planet Earth excited one and all. Morbus was, in fact, on the verge of election to leadership of humanity at the head of the Council when he mysteriously disappeared. Morbus was last seen on the asteroid on which he was first discovered in a violent confrontation with Apollo, which is only sketchily recalled by Sheba and Starbuck. Another mystery is the connection (I personally believe there is one) between Morbus and the appearance of the bright, ultrafast spacecraft (?) that dogged the fleet during this period. These craft intercepted and held a number of warriors, although all were eventually returned safely. They too, seemed to have had their memories of the recent past wiped clean. Some credit these strange mystic lights with the contemporaneous improvement in agro-yields. Perhaps most puzzling of all is the fact that the three witnesses to the disappearance of Morbus, Apollo, Star-buck and Sheba, all returned with a memory of explicit time/space coordinates that they claimed were the those of the mythical planet Earth. None of the three could explain the source of these coordinates; in fact, they felt as though they were blurting them out without conscious control, as though another were speaking through them. I have ordered the fleet to proceed on course to these space/time coordinates, as I believe them to be genuine. We will be there in about a yahren or two. But what will we find? Only time will provide the answer to that question. *************************************** While the Galactica led the rag-tag fleet through the stars, Apollo, Blue Squadron's strike commander led his friends and subordinates, Lt. Starbuck, Lt. Sheba, daughter of the legendary Commander Cain and late of the unaccounted-for battlestar Pegasus, and the beautiful paranurse Cassiopeia down a narrow passageway deep within the battlestar. They were wearing noise mufflers over their ears. The deep throbbing of the Galactica's giant engines obliterated the sound of their footsteps. Starbuck tapped Apollo on the shoulder and he turned. "Is this your idea of a fun evening?" he said. Apollo indicated that he couldn't hear what Starbuck was saying. He motioned for them to follow. Cassiopeia pulled a slightly reluctant Starbuck along as Apollo led them to a ladder that rose vertically into a tube. Apollo pointed up and Starbuck made an "after you" gesture. Apollo nodded and scaled the ladder with the two women, Starbuck bringing up the rear. ************************************ Inside the great celestial dome, the wheel on the hatch in the floor spun and then stopped. The hatch hinges opened and Apollo's head appeared, then his body as he climbed up into the small, dimly lit chamber. A single chair, elevated a few feet off the deck, sat in the center of the chamber. Around it were a number of controls and a scanner. Attached to the top of the chair were telescopic instruments that were obviously intended for use by whoever sat in it. Apollo helped the others up into the chamber, then closed the hatch and spun the wheel. The roar of the engines immediately was reduced to a muffled hum, enabling Apollo and the others to finally remove their ear mufflers. "Where in heaven's name are we?" Sheba asked. Apollo climbed the short ladder into the chair and began to activate the switches. The panel before him began to glow as the lights came on one by one. "This," Apollo said, "is as high as you can get on the Galactica...directly over the main thrusters. It's a great spot to get away from everyone...to think." Starbuck slipped his arms around Cassiopeia from behind and kissed her cheek. "A cozy little place like this could be used for more than just thinking," he whispered. Realizing what he had in mind, Cassiopeia weakly struggled to break his grip. "Starbuck!" she whispered back, coyly. Apollo finished turning on the switches on the console, then looked down at the others, smiling like a kid with a new toy. "Everybody ready?" Apollo asked. "For what?" asked Sheba. "Watch this," said Apollo. He pressed a button. Servo-motors whined as the metal shield around the dome began to slide into the floor, like the petals of a flower irising open. As the shield slid away, revealing all the stars around them, Cassiopeia gasped and grabbed Starbuck. Sheba automatically reached for the base of the chair. As the shield slid completely into the tube, it left them all thrust up into space. All of Apollo could clearly be seen outside the dome; the others could only be seen from the knees up. Apollo rode the chair like the bowspirit of a sailing ship. "It's incredible!" Sheba gasped. "Frightening!" Cassiopeia interjected. "Relax, ladies. We're perfectly safe. The bubble's constructed of transparent tylinium," Apollo said. Starbuck looked around. "It's so different from a viper cockpit...so open." Apollo stared out at the stars as they moved past. "It's like riding in the hand of God," he said. "At least, that's the way I like to think of it." He turned to Sheba. "Do you like it?" "Like it? By the Lords of Kobol, Apollo, I love it!" she gushed. Apollo climbed down from the chair. "Then give it a try." As Sheba climbed up into the seat, Cassiopeia asked, "What's this bubble used for, besides scaring me?" Apollo laughed. "It's called a celestial chamber. The only one left on the Galactica. When the old girl was launched over five hundred yahrens ago, there were a number of these domes. Back then, the navigators came up here to take star sightings, to sort-of double check the navigation computer." He looked around. "I doubt anyone's been here, except us, in a hundred yahrens or more." Sheba peered through the celestial instrument mounted on the chair. "For something as old as you say, all the instruments seem to be in working order." "Not all of them," Apollo said. "I had to repair the ones that didn't. I like coming up here to shoot the stars the way my ancestors did." "Sometimes, buddy, I get the feeling you'd have loved living in the past," Starbuck said. "Knocking around some planetary system in an old-fashioned sub-light rocket, taking yahrens just to move from one solar system to another." Apollo laughed. "It may have been slow, but it was more of a challenge. Yeah, I think living back then might have been more fun." Sheba checked the equipment, turning on a scanner. "Uh, Apollo? What exactly did you set this scanner for?" "Long range communication," Apollo said. "But you won't get anything on it. Those gamma frequencies are outdated. We don't use them anymore." "Well, somebody's using it, dear," Sheba said. Concerned, Apollo clambered up the steps for a look. "What?" Sheba pointed to the scanner. "It's weak, but we're receiving a signal." Apollo could see a very fuzzy, streaked picture on the screen. There was no color. The sound was barely audible and static filled, yet he could just barely make out some words: "...is...beginning...day...Alpha... and...holding... difficulty...loading...holding...TV...10...deep...planet... planet...human...Robinson...resourcefulness...control... holding...tracking...holding...concept...a ...vehicle... atomic...quarters..." The picture kept breaking up, but occasionally stabilized enough to give the impression of some type of saucer-shaped spacecraft perched atop a spidery launch platform. "Holy felgercarb!" Starbuck gasped. "What is that?" "We'll know in a micron," Apollo said. "I'm recording the images now and trying to get a directional fix." "We're losing it," Sheba said. But Apollo fought valiantly to hold the picture. Despite his best efforts, however, the picture broke up completely, leaving only the raster. "Damn!" he cursed. "It's gone!" "Any idea what it was?" Starbuck said. "It looked like a spacecraft going through its final pre-launch sequences," Sheba said. "But I've never seen anything like it." "I have," Apollo said, "in the mythological scans." He turned to Starbuck. "On all twelve colonies there were tales about sightings of spaceships not unlike the one we've just seen. I think they were called...'unidentified flying objects' or 'flying saucers.'" ******************************************************* The pilot's quarters were dark, with all the warriors in sleep period. Apollo, Starbuck, Sheba and Cassiopeia entered and came down the steps towards Boomer's bunk. Apollo and Starbuck came around the left side of the bunk and Sheba and Cassiopeia the right side. Boomer, they could see, was in the middle of a very pleasant dream. He rolled over, a smile on his face. Apollo gently shook him. "Boomer," Apollo whispered, "wake up." Boomer, barely opening an eye, sleepily said, "What...huh..." Suddenly, both his eyes flashed open. "Oh no!" he whined. Disgusted, Boomer rolled over, away from Apollo and Starbuck. "Apollo...I was just about to..." And then he saw the girls, Cassiopeia and Sheba. "...Ah... what's goin' on?" "We need your help." "Too bad. I need sleep." Starbuck interjected. "Boomer, we need you because you're an ace at long range communications." Boomer closed his eyes. "Doctor Wilker's better. Why don't you go bother him?" "We'd like nothing better," Sheba said, "except that he's gone to the electronics ship." "Good for him." Boomer was almost back to sleep; he was even beginning to smile a little again. Apollo refused to give in. "We picked up a transmission on a gamma frequency." "Good for you..." Suddenly, Boomer's eyes snapped open again. "On what?" "I said we picked up a transmission on a gamma frequency." Boomer sat up on the bunk, swinging his legs over the edge. "No way! That frequency's ancient!" "That's what makes it so interesting," Starbuck said, "and weird!" "You've understated the matter as usual, Bucko," Boomer said. "Did anybody think to record it?" Apollo held up the thin plastic imaging reproduction wafer he'd used. "Right here." Boomer snatched the wafer out of Apollo's hand. "Why didn't you say so?" Boomer came around the bunk half-naked except for his shorts. "Ah, Boomer. You going to the lab like that?" Cassiopeia chuckled. "Huh?" He looked at her, then down at his shorts. "Oh, no!" With that, he rushed to the lockers for a fresh uniform as the others laughed. ******************************************************* In Dr. Wilker's lab, Boomer studied the same fuzzy picture Apollo and his friends saw on the scanner in the celestial dome. He contemplated the superstructure of the vessel. "Any idea what it is?" asked Starbuck. "You are definitely looking at a spacecraft getting ready to launch," Boomer said. "But I don't know of what nationality. It reminds me of an early model Colonial spacecraft. You know, the ones we flew before the Colonial Fleet converted to tylium-based propulsion. "Can you enhance the signal?" Apollo said. Boomer shook his head. "That's a bit out of my territory. Maybe Wilker can do it with the computer." Boomer removed the plastic card from the equipment and crossed toward another console with a number of screens. "Best I can do is try to clear up the audio," he said. The others followed him as he inserted the card in the computer and the video came up on a number of screens at once. Boomer began to play with the frequencies. They heard it a little clearer than before, but still mostly obliterated by static. Voice one: "In...minutes...journey." Voice two: "...now. ...Counting." Voice three: "Fellow...success... ... explosive... disaster... exempt... dawn... humanity... Peace... mankind..." Voice two: Alpha...minus...counting." Boomer stopped the recording, fast-forwarded it and fine-tuned the equipment some more, this time picking up a little more clarity. Voice one: "Astronauts... order... ...enter... freezing... for launch... Will Robinson, Penny Robinson, enter tubes." Voice two: "Judy Robinson... tube." After that, the scanner went blank. Boomer straightened up and turned to the others. "That's all, folks." "Boomer," Sheba said. "I'm not so much curious as I am a little scared. I mean, just where in the name of all that's holy is that coming from?" Boomer took a deep breath and thought about it. "It may be a harmonic signal, a doubling or quadrupling of the original transmitting frequency. It's one of the reasons we don't use those old gamma frequencies anymore. Now, if it is a member of the harmonic family, its point of origin could be relatively close by." "What if it's not?" Apollo said. "Then it's a primary frequency," Boomer continued his lecture. "But primary frequencies can't cover long distances and maintain peak signal quality for very long. As weak as it is, I would guess it to be intergalactic." "Integalactic!" Starbuck yelped. "Then we've picked up something that could have been transmitted a hundred yahrens ago. "Or a thousand," Boomer continued, "or ten thousand, or even a hundred thousand. There's just no way to tell how long that signal's been traveling through space." Boomer replayed the recording and the others leaned forward to stare at the scanner. Cassiopeia continued to look at the image with a sense of awe, seeing through the static what appeared to be the image of a very young dark-haired girl, maybe twelve yahrens old, clad from collar to feet in a silver jumpsuit, entering what appeared to be a man-sized plastic tube. "You mean we could be looking at the past?" she said. "Quite possibly," Boomer replied. "I wonder whose?" Apollo said, looking some more at the fuzzy, streaked picture. Little did Apollo know that he would be finding that out in only a yahren. Chapter One: Spaceship snare He was asleep when the discovery was first made. He was slouching in the cockpit of his small, sleek, long-range viper ship. A dead cigar dangled from between two fingers of his right hand and there was a flurry of ashes dusting the toe of one of his boots. Beyond the window of the cockpit stretched the endless dark silence of space. All at once a tiny red bulb of light began to blink urgently on the control panel and a nasty buzzing noise filled the tiny cockpit. Lieutenant Starbuck straightened up, blinking. "Okay, okay," he mumbled at the dash panel. "Calm down." He stuck the cigar between his even teeth and scowled at the timedial. "Hey, you weren't supposed to wake me up for another centon yet. I'm still on a sleep period." "Starbuck?" The familiar voice of the Galactica's strike commander and Starbuck's best friend came piping out of one of the speaker grids. Brushing back his straw-blond hair, Starbuck inquired, "Do I have you to thank for being dragged out of a well-deserved snooze by the seat of my astrum, Apollo?" "To that, I would plead guilty, old friend," replied Apollo. "Aww. Did you miss my pithy conversation?" "Listen, shake the felgercarb out of your brain and act like you're awake, okay?" "I'm fresh as a daisy," Starbuck assured him as he relit his stogie. "Proceed." "I'm roughly fifty sectares ahead of you and---" "Gee, looks like you'll beat me to the finish line and win the gold trophy." "Will you please get serious? Some-thing weird is starting to show up on my scanners." Frowning, Starbuck said, "Oh boy. In other words, you and I are not alone out here." "No, we're not. I think I'm tracking a ship of some kind." "Not a Cylon craft?" Starbuck stiffened in his seat and stared out the cockpit window. "We haven't run into one of those gallmonging snitrods in one hell of a long time." "Nope. This isn't a Cylon craft, good buddy. Far as I can tell...well, I'm getting a better look at it as we're talking and...Holy Frak!" Starbuck's left eye narrowed. "Sounds like something you've never run up against before," he said. "What have you got on it?" "Round, saucer shaped, atomic motors, three decks and... omigod! I'm reading six life forms aboard! "Humans?" "Yes, Starbuck, they're humans...but their biorythms don't match Colonial norms!" Apollo said. "Can you catch up with me? Quick." "If not quicker," said Starbuck. ********************************************** The Galactica moved majestically through space, an immense yet slim-lined multi-level vehicle. The greatest fighting ship of the Colonial Fleet, the huge battlestar was a self-contained world housing thou-sands. And the fate of those thousands, their ultimate destiny, was in the hands of the ship's commander. Commander Adama was thinking of exactly that as he sat in his quarters aboard the Galactica, one powerful arm resting on his metallic desk. "What was that you just said?" he said turning toward the man sitting in one of the visitor's chairs. "Forgive me, Commander. I was merely remarking that your mind seemed to be elsewhere," said Colonel Tigh, smiling thinly. His right hand fidgeted, as if he was anxious to jot something down that he didn't want to forget later in the day. "Unfortunately, it was somewhere else." The grey-haired man rose up and walked to the room's large oval view window. "Somewhere out there is an answer." "Many answers." Tigh cleared his throat. "'But the problem, as I see it, is---" "The only problem you ought to be worrying about, Colonel, is your impatience." "Impatience? That's not a problem, it's an asset." He leaned forward in his chair, fingers rubbing together. "If you've read any of my recent reports on---" "I've read, and savored, them." "Then you know there is considerable concern, not only here aboard the Galactica, but on the other ships as well that---" "By the good graces of the Lords of Kobol, the Galactica continues to lead her flock, Colonel," cut in the deep-voiced commander. He gazed out at the vast dark emptiness they were traveling through. "Yes sir," said Tigh. "But where is she leading them to?" "Toward the co-ordinates given us by those great white lights that vanished as inexplicably as they appeared." "We never did find out what they were, or where they came from, as I recall." "There are theories," Adama said. "Personally, I'm inclined to go along with those who feel the lights were starships, craft from Earth, that transmitted the coordinates into the minds of Apollo, Sheba, and Starbuck. That gives us hope, since it seems to indicate that on Earth there is a highly developed technology and that if we can reach there---" "I hate to rain on your parade, Commander," Tigh said, "but that view has very little factual support in its favor. Morbus' followers---and he still has many admirers in the fleet---maintain that this knowledge was his final gift to humankind." Adama frowned. "Gift? Tigh be reasonable. He was a malevolent presence on this ship. A being devoid of compassion or love, Morbus was a corruptor in every sense of the word. Why would that treacherous demon bestow such a offering to us?" "Realizing the mistrust you and your family had for him, Morbus decided to withdraw rather than provoke grave dissention, leaving us the guide to Earth he had promised them," Tigh said. "At least that's what his admirers believe." "And what do you think, Tigh?" Adama asked. "I think that the same shock that caused amnesia in the three warriors also produced a joint wish-fulfilling hallucination in them." Tigh began to feel some disillusionment. "Microns ago, you just said, 'if we can reach Earth. I'm sorry but it sounds like a mighty big 'if' to me." "Yes. And that is why I have our long-range scouts on patrol." Adama faced his restless visitor. "Watching for some sings that might---" "I have," said Colonel Tigh, standing, "considerable respect for your son, Captain Apollo. I know he's out there, piloting one of the scouting vipers and doing the best he can." He paused to cough into his hand. "Unfortunately, Lieutenant Starbuck is out there too, and you know what a hothead he is." "This 'hothead,' as you call him,' has pulled us out of quite a few rough places," said the commander as he strode back to his desk. "Admittedly he has a tendency to be flippant at inappropriate times. He's too fond of gambling and taking risks, yet I still have a good deal of faith in him." Tigh glanced at a wall timedial. "I'm afraid I have an appointment elsewhere. If you'll excuse me, Commander?" "Of course. Get on with whatever you have to do." Stopping at the doorway, Tigh said, "The rest of what I wanted to discuss with you, Commander Adama, I can put in a memo." "I'm sure you can," said Adama, a faint smile touching his face. ***************************************** Starbuck saw it too. "I'll be damned," he said. "I've got the strangest feeling I've seen this ship before," remarked Apollo. Their two viper ships were flying in tandem. Moving through space toward them was the ship Apollo had first sighted. It was like a blunt "flying saucer" with a bubble containing a flashing light situated in the center of its upper hull. There was a large viewport at its bow, a little porthole on the starboard side of its curved middle hull and the unmistakable outline of the ship's airlock next to it. There was a circular disk on the belly that glittered on and off and Apollo guessed that it was part of the ship's propulsion system. Starbuck's forehead wrinkled. "I'd be happy to tell you who they are, but they're not responding to my hails." He rested his unlit cigar on the panel and punched some buttons. After a few seconds he nodded. "My scanners confirmed what yours indicated," he said after checking the read-out. "This thing, basically, is a sublight vehicle, nuclear powered. And, let's not forget, there are supposed to be humans aboard." "But we don't know exactly what kind of humans." "Greetings from Earth," Starbuck muttered. "Uh, you wanna run that by me again, ole buddy," Apollo said. "Greetings from Earth," Starbuck repeated. "That's where these people are from." "I wouldn't bet too heavily on that just yet." "My gut confirms it," Starbuck told him impatiently. "We've come millions of microns, searching for a contact like this. And here it is." "Maybe," said Captain Apollo. "Stay where you are, " Starbuck suddenly kicked in his turbos and went shooting away from the side of the other viper. He went zooming toward the strange and unfamiliar silver-gray spacecraft. Slowing again, he commenced flying a series of slow, expert loops around the ship. He scrutinized the ship's underbelly and came close enough to the main viewport to get a good look inside the ship's upper level. Yes, there was a helm and seats in front of it, but those seats were unoccupied. "Back off," advised the voice of Apollo. "You might jar their chips." "I'm not going to unsettle them any," promised Starbuck. "Don't fret. You keep forgetting how personable I am. Remember when we met those paranurses from the---" "Okay, let's say you're right, and this ship does hail from Earth. Hasn't the possibility that the crew has never encountered anyone from beyond their home planet until now occurred to you?" said Apollo. "If that's the case, then they just might be inclined to attack any hotshot viper pilot, no matter how personable he is, who comes buzzing too close!" "C'mon, use that brilliant diminutive brain of yours," urged Starbuck as he flew an even lazier circle around the larger ship. "Nobody inside this weird crate is going to do anything to me." "It's not a derelict, Starbuck. This thing's moving under its own power, slowly, I'll admit, and we know that there are people aboard; people, mind you, not corpses." Starbuck was frowning over another scanner readout. "Speaking of power, old chum, my scanners don't indicate the presence of either Corrilax, Solium or Lazon." "That means they must be using some other form of explosive material." "Which is another good indication they're from someplace different, someplace like Earth." "Possibly, good buddy, but---" "Oh, wait a minute!" Starbuck was now flying a course parallel to that of the mystery ship. "There's one thing we've been overlooking." "What?" "We haven't determined exactly what this vessel's function is, or, for that matter, what it's doing out here." "People go into space for various reasons, Starbuck. They're not all sinister." "I mean, look at that thing. It has no markings to indicate point of origin. It's like they don't want anyone to know where they come from. I've got this terrible feeling they're running from an oppressive enemy, just like we are." "Yep, that could well be," acknowledged Apollo. "Possibly we ought to just leave them to continue running. No need to---" "No way! These are, I'm damn near certain, Earth people," said Starbuck. "After all our searching and hunting, we are on the brink of making first contact." "And how do you propose we make this first contact?" "Simple. Take the ship home and talk to them." Apollo said. "That might mean exceeding our---" "It doesn't. Dammit, we're on a scouting mission and we've made a discovery," said Starbuck, sticking the dead cigar back between his teeth. "If I was given to fancy lingo, I'd dub this discovery both monumental and stupendous. Even nifty." "So?" "So right now I'm going to drop a parasite control box onto the side of this baby here," announced Starbuck as he began easing his craft closer to the larger spacecraft. "I noticed there's a trio of landing legs underbelly so I'll be using the control box to activate them so we can set her down on the docking bay on the Galactica after we finish guiding her there. Then we can find out exactly who these people are and what makes this barge tick. Okay?" After a few seconds, Apollo replied: "I don't think the commander's going to like that but...sure, okay." ********************************************** Chapter Two: Oh Rapture, Oh Joy Commander Adama came striding into the control center, the bridge, rather, of the Galactica. He halted, scanning the vast room and noting that several crewmen and crewwomen were not at their regular posts. Instead they were either clustered at the vast view window or around the communication screen that was linked with Captain Apollo's returning viper. "These people are not attending to their regular duties, Tigh," Adama said tersely. "I demand an explanation, at once!" Tigh was standing near the entryway, gazing out at the starfield beyond their ship. "It's my fault, Commander. I took it upon myself to allow a certain laxity," he replied as he faced the wide-shouldered, grey-haired Adama. Adama said, "Isn't this the sort of behavior you usually dictate memos about? Crew neglecting assigned duties, confusion rampant on the bridge." "In normal times, I do take a stand against that, sir. But these are not normal times," the colonel said rubbing his hands together. "Captain Apollo has communicated the very gratifying news that he and Lieutenant Starbuck have discovered an Earth ship and are escorting it back here to us." "Whether or not that ship is from Earth remains to be seen," Adama scolded. "Yes sir. But I'm certain the vehicle will prove to be outward bound from the planet Earth," said Tigh. "Naturally, everyone is extremely elated and they're anxious for a glimpse of the craft and---" "Noted, Colonel." Nodding, Adama raised his voice. "Attention on deck!" he barked. Every man and woman on the bridge snapped to attention at the sound of the commander's voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, I fully appreciate the uniqueness of what may be happening. However, you are all hereby ordered to return to your stations. This may or may not be our long-awaited contact with an Earth vessel. Whatever it is, we must proceed with maximum efficiency and caution." Murmuring, reluctant as children leaving a carnival early, the crewmembers drifted back to their assigned posts on the Galactica bridge. "Thank you," Adama said to them. "Now, I think I'd better get on the Unicom and address everyone, since I have a hunch the excitement is going to be spread throughout the fleet." "Unfortunately, it has already," confirmed Tigh, following the commander to the nearest Unicom pickup. "I'd like you to take charge of seeing to it that the designated area of the landing bay is cleared of all unauthorized personnel. I've already alerted Doctor Salik and his medical team to be standing by with full decontamination crew and equipment." Adama reached for the Unicom switch. ********************************************* Lieutenant Jolly had his broad back turned to the nearest view window of the rec lounge. Hunched slightly, a look of admiration on his plump face, he was gazing a-cross the small table at his date. "No, I think you've got a lovely name, Zixi. Sure, there's a lilt to it and---" "You really and truly think so?" inquired the pretty auburn-haired Zixi. "Because so many people are prone to---" "I know what it's like to have a name jerks kid about," he said. "I mean a tag like Jolly is open to attack from all sorts of annoying angles, you know. 'Not living up to your name today, huh?' or 'Hi Jolly, you don't look much like your name,' or 'When's your next family reunion, so we can get our Jollys?' and so on." The paranurse's pretty freckled nose wrinkled very slightly. "With my name it isn't so much puns and lays on words, Jolly, as it is just...Well, for one thing it's sort of hard to pronounce right." "Zixi? That's not tough at all. Hades' bells, I could write a song around your name with no trouble." "Excuse me, but you're not pronouncing it exactly right either." He straightened up, smote his broad chest with a fist. "Then how do I pronounce it?" "The X has more of a Z sound." "Aha!" said Lieutenant Jolly, nodding sagely. "A magamna by any other name would smell as sweet, as they say." "Magamna? What's that?" "It's a kind of flower that grows wild over several planets I've visited in my day. The name stinks but the flower itself smells pretty good," the hefty lieutenant explained. "Hence, the saying. It means that it isn't what your name is, but what you are inside that counts." "I agree," admitted Zixi. "But sometimes I wish my name was Verda or Fenestra or even---" "Say, why don't you tell me more about yourself?" suggested Jolly. "Ever since I met you at the billyarks table the other night shift I've been wondering about you." "Let's see," said Zixi, tapping the rim of her ambrosa tankard. "I'm an only child. Both my mother and father have funny names too. It's a long family tradition." "All right then, let's forget about names," put in Jolly. "Or maybe I can make up a nickname for you and then---" "People of the fleet, your attention please." Commander Adama's voice came booming out of the overhead Unicom speakers. "Hey, that's the commander," muttered Jolly, looking away from the young woman and up at a speaker grid. "Must be pretty important." "Rumors are spreading faster than fact about the discovery of a manned vehicle to be brought aboard the Galactica," continued the commander. "I must ask you all to be patient and cautious in your optimism. The incoming vessel will have to be placed in quarantine before we can allow anyone near it for fear of jeopardizing not only our own lives but also the lives of whoever may be traveling aboard this spacecraft. Bulletins of every phase of our operation will be transmitted to you as soon as reliable facts become available. I ask you to bear with us and be patient. Thank you." Jolly rocked back in his chair as the commander's words faded away. "Hey, that's darn exciting," he said, tugging at his mustache. An excited murmur of talk was filling the lounge. The other patrons began to discuss Commander Adama's message. Zixi said, "It may mean we'll be able to settle on Earth." "It sure might." Jolly popped up to his feet. Then he bent and took the young woman's hand. "I remain deeply devoted to you, Zixi... Did I pronounce it okay that time around?" "Pretty near." "Good. Anyway, I want to scoot to the docking area right fast," he informed her. "We'll rendezvous again as soon as this crisis passes." Bowing, he deposited a smacking kiss on her hand and then went trotting out. ******************************************** Chapter Three: Decontamination Starbuck, chewing hard on the end of his latest cigar, went hurrying along the metal-walled corridor. "I'd like to see them try," he was saying. Apollo, lagging a few paces behind, said, "You know damn well they won't let us anywhere near the thing until it's safely decontaminated." "We found that ship!" said Starbuck. He halted before a turbolift door and gave the down button an angry push. "We hauled it back here to the Galactica, at great personal risk of life and limb! Hellfire, Apollo, it's our baby. Sort of, you know, like an orphan we found out in a storm or a stray dog we took in out of the cold." "Stop it! You're bringing tears to my eyes," laughed Apollo. The turbolift door whooshed open and the anxious Lieutenant Starbuck dived in. "I'd dearly love to see you get exuberant about something. Here we've made a fantastic find and you---" "People can be pleased and not flap their arms and shoot steam out of their ears." "But that's what life is all about. Flapping your arms, jumping up and down, letting the all the world know you're having the time of your life," said the lieutenant as the turbolift cage dropped them swiftly toward the docking area where the ship they found had been taken. "That's how you know you're alive." "I know dozens of other ways of telling." The doors swished open and they saw a long corridor crowded with people. At its end two impassive security guards stood blocking the entrance to the landing bay. Spotting Apollo and Starbuck, Lieutenant Jolly pushed his way back to them. "Hey fellas, what gives?" Starbuck asked his, "Are those security nitwits yonder keeping everyone out?" "Yep, 'fraid so," complained the hefty lieutenant. "I came hustling down here from the lounge, leaving behind an absolutely striking young woman with hair the color of a solar flare." "Spare me the details of your sordid love life, Jolly." Starbuck, using elbow and shoulder, pushed into the curious crowd. Following in his wake, Captain Apollo cautioned, "Don't go punching anybody in the snoot, good buddy. Because I won't come visiting you in the brig." "Hooey!" observed Starbuck, his cigar tilting at a warlike angle. "All I'm after is fair play. It's an established rule of galactic salvage that a lost ship rightly belongs to the discoverer---in this case me!" "This isn't a derelict cargo ship, Bucko!" "Stop right there, Starbuck," advised the larger of the two burly guards. "Hi, Reese." Hands on his hips, Starbuck scowled at the young man. "Look, try to comprehend what I am about to impart to you. Utilize every single cell of that pea-size brain of yours. That's my baby in there and I intend to see her!" "No admittance." "Maybe you didn't hear me, Reese. I'm the guy who found that frakkin' crate," Starbuck informed him. "I've got a right to visit...Quit poking me, Apollo." Someone had tapped the feisty lieutenant on the shoulder. "Now, as I was saying..." Starbuck had noticed that the guard had stiffened to attention and he decided he'd better look back over his shoulder. "Oh...How do you do, Commander?" "Fine, Lieutenant Starbuck," replied Commander Adama, who'd made his way to the door. "Allow me to personally congratulate you two for the excellent job you've done." Grinning, Starbuck snapped his fingers. "All in a day's work, sir," he said modestly. "Now, will you explain to these overzealous guardians here that I have a perfect right to---" "I'm afraid none of us can get a closer look until Doctor Salik says it's safe," the commander said. "Not even you?" Adama shook his head. "Not even me." "So what do we do?" "We wait." ****************************************** Captain Apollo fell asleep in a sofa in the pilot's quarters and dreamed that he was back in the celestial dome, looking at the mysterious visual signal Sheba had accidentally locked onto. The details on the little telescreen were as before, yet, somehow, clearer, free of the static. There was a massive control room in his dream, complete with rows of instrument banks, and computers. The walls were lined with giant TV screens that provided the occupants with spectacular views of stars and nebulae. It was a beehive of activity, this control room. Men in white smocks were hovering over their instruments, making final checks and computers were tabulating, all in final preparation for the big launch. Suddenly, the scene switched from "mission control," if that's what it was, to the interior of the spacecraft, where the crew, all of them dressed in their silver flight suits, was shaking hands and saying their goodbyes to a man in a smart white military uniform. Yet, this was no ordinary crew, it was a family of five members together with the man who would take charge of their spaceship's controls in case anything went wrong. There were six man-sized vertical tubes on the left-hand side of the ship's flight deck. All six crewmembers stepped into them and closed their eyes. The tubes closed, and then Apollo could see a strange yellow-white glow surrounding their bodies. They were being put into suspended animation. The universe all around them would age, yet they would age but a micron in the time of Man. Lift off! Their spacecraft---the same shape and size as the one he and Starbuck had brought into the Galactica's landing bay---glowed white as its great atomic motors came to life, thrusting it upward, off its launch gantries, into the endless night of space, beyond the infinite! Their spacecraft---the same shape and size---No! By the Lords of Kobol---the same one! The same one! That's where he'd seen that ship before! Captain Apollo's eyes snapped open. He rushed to the codebox that was set into the wall of the pilot's quarters and immediately contacted his father. "Adama here. Apollo?" "Father, the ship that Starbuck and I recovered out in space. I think I know her." ********************************************** "This is incredible," said Apollo, in Adama's quarters, during the Galactica's "night." Both father and son were looking at a close-up view of the strange interstellar vehicle on one of the wall monitors. For such a small ship, it seemed so imposing, the darkened main observation windows at its bow filling the screen like the eye of some great cyclopean beast. Beyond camera range, technicians, some with hand-held scanners, some with shoulder-mounted scanners, floated above the ship on repulsorlift platforms, checking it over for any signs of bombs or other contraband. Below them, there were other technicians, Doctor Salik included, in decontamination suits, hosing the ship down with a concentrated antiseptic agent to kill any foreign microbes that may have accumulated on her hull. "I wouldn't have thought it possible, meeting this very ship in the trackless void of space," he continued. "I would say that it's more than a chance meeting, Apollo," said Adama, rubbing his eyes. "Now, are you certain this is the same vehicle you saw in that signal you picked up over a yahren ago?" "Oh, I'm positive it's same ship," Apollo said. "I've never forgotten the look on Starbuck's face when we first saw it." Suddenly, the image of the ship on the monitor was replaced by Doctor Salik's face. "Commander Adama?" "Is the ship safe for us to approach, Doctor?" "As safe as it will ever be for now," Salik said. "What in Hades are we waiting for?" Apollo exclaimed, just barely able to contain his excitement. ********************************************** A temporary wall of tough see-through plastic stood between them and the spacecraft. Somehow, the vehicle, resting now on its tripod landing legs, looked much smaller sitting in the vast landing bay. Doctor Salik took off the headpiece of his decontamination suit and then nodded back at the ship. "There were some microbes that had us worried, but I'm certain we've killed all of them," he said. "Any sign of bombs or other weapons?" Starbuck asked. "No," Salik said. "At least, Wilker's defusing team couldn't find one. It's just what it appears to be---a sublight transport ship. His two associates, Cassiopeia and Doctor Wilker, were standing nearby. "Now, about where this craft came from?" Adama said. Stroking his chin, Salik leaned against a metal guardrail. "It's possible, based on fairly unsophisticated early tests, that this ship that you two warriors have brought to us is, indeed, from Earth." "Yeeeowwww!" Starbuck bounced on his heels in dubious delight. "You seem awfully jumpy, Starbuck. Perhaps you would like me to prescribe a mild anti-depressant?" said Salik. "They do wonders for your nerves." "Nerves? Hellfire! I'm the only one around here with any feelings." Starbuck pointed a thumb at the ship. "Everybody ought to be as excited as I am, Doc, because right inside that crate yonder may be the answers to all our questions." "Maybe," said Doctor Wilker, moving nearer to them. "You just now said it came from Earth," said Starbuck, impatient. "Actually, that was my colleague who alluded to the possibility of an Earth origin for that ship," corrected Wilker. "Let me, before we proceed further, remind you that he is a medical man, and I'm a scientist. Our points of view won't match up." "Holy Frak!" said Starbuck, waving his cigar in the air and gazing up at the fretwork high above. "The last thing we need right now is a whole darn lecture in Dumbbell Science 1A, Doc." Lieutenant," said the commander, "it might be better if you would allow me to make the necessary statements and inquiries." Starbuck took a deep breath. "Okay, sorry." "Now," the commander continued. "So there will be no misunderstanding, what exactly will we find on this ship?" Cassiopeia smoothed her tunic and then sat on a stray metal drum. "We have confirmed the life signs within the ship. There are six separate human entities, all alive." "Six humans," said Adama, "and all of them alive?" "Yes, exactly," said Salik. Adama faced Salik, flanked by Apollo and Starbuck. "Has anyone tried to tell those inside that we are here now?" "Yes," Wilker said. "But there was no response." "I believe," Salik said, "that there is a simple explanation for that, and my associates concur." "I don't," put in Doctor Wilker. "You think," Adama guessed, "that these people inside, whoever they are, must be in some sort of suspended animation?" "Yes, we do." "That's not so much an explanation," added Doctor Wilker, "as it is a theory." "We've established that none of the people inside are responding to the present situation at all," said Cassiopeia. "Their life signs are all even and there have been no increases in heart rate or respiration to indicate fright, anger, or even simple awareness that their flight has been interrupted." "Has any attempt been made," asked Commander Adama, "to enter the craft?" "I wanted your direct order first before attempting that," said Doctor Salik. "Gentlemen, there is no need for further discussion," wailed Wilker. "Let's just go in and get it over with." "Doctor Wilker," Adama said thoughtfully, "one centon of your time please." He took the overly excited scientist aside and spoke to him privately. "Could we be upsetting a critical balance by violating the seals and entering the ship?" "Excuse, me gentlemen, sorry for eavesdropping, but I believe I can answer that," Salik said. "We penetrated the hull with a probe and we took samplings of the gases in the atmosphere." "And?" "Almost zero atmosphere." "Zero?" Adama was aghast. "There were traces of oxygen and carbon dioxide, but nothing that could sustain life as we know it." "Yet six life forms live on this ship," Cassiopeia said, "even if barely." "What happens," Adama asked, "if we do what Wilker proposes and enter the ship? Wouldn't we be killing those inside if they're used to... zero atmosphere?" "Commander," said Salik, "nothing short of a Cylon could survive in that ship." "My thoughts exactly," said Wilker. "Unless, of course, these six passengers are being cared for in a separate and isolated life support system within...which seems unlikely to me." "Well, then." Adama locked his hands together, and bowed his head in prayer to the Lords of Kobol for a few microns. "This is the moment we've all been waiting for. After you, Doctor Salik." ************************************************** Chapter Four: Into The Unknown Doctor Salik was the first one to ascend the gangway into the dimly lit lower deck of the mystery ship. "Sufficient air from the landing bay has seeped in here," he announced. "The rest of you can come on up." "I protest!" Wiker cried. "We cannot allow anyone to interfere with our study of this vessel, not even viper pilots!" "Listen, Doc," said Starbuck, putting his hand on the scientist's arm, "this flying skillet is just as important to all of us as it is to you!" "Doctor," said Commander Adama evenly, "these men are here at my invitation. If you have a problem with that, then I'm the one you should be speaking to." "Very well." After making a mock bow, Wilker ascended the gangway into the ship. "Ladies first," Starbuck said to Cassiopeia. As soon as she entered, he followed. They entered what seemed to be more like a living room than a control room. The galley was across from them and next to that there was a laboratory, equipped with burners, test tubes and the like. Acceleration couches were situated clockwise around the lower level. Wilker and Salik busied themselves looking over the ship's spectacular but functional staterooms, obviously designed and built for the benefit of whoever the pilots were. In the front of the lower deck, Starbuck was looking over what he recognized as some kind of communications console, an apparatus rich with flashing lights, switches, and buttons. "Nice layout," he said. "Wonder who could be out here for anyone to talk to." Apollo started for the metal door that was located in the far corner of the room curious to see where it led. He'd started to look for a way to open it when suddenly he noticed the words DANGER: RADIOACTIVE inscribed on it. Apparently, this was the housing for the ship's atomic motors. "May-be next time," he muttered. Adama suddenly became concerned at the apparent lack of habitation. "Apollo, when we're through here, I'm going to order our scanning equipment checked for possible malfunctions. It doesn't look to me as if anyone's used this craft for so much as even a test flight." "There are people here, father," Apollo pleaded. "We couldn't have---" "Say!" Starbuck interrupted suddenly. "Has anyone seen Cassiopeia? She was here a micron ago, but I don't see her anywhere now." "I'm right here, Starbuck." He heard a soft hum behind him and looked over his shoulder. The circular bars of what he'd thought, at first glance, to be an animal cage, opened and Cassiopeia stepped out. Wilker and the other men soon realized this was the ship's elevator platform, connecting the two levels of the ship like a dumbwaiter. "You went off by yourself on a strange ship without checking with me first, Cassiopeia," Salik said angrily. "I have relieved nurses from duty for even less." "It's just as well I did wander off, Doctor." She looked at Adama. "We were right, commander, there are humans aboard, a family of six. I've just found them." Adama felt a wave of excitement overcome him. "Where are they?" "This elevator disk will take us to the top deck, commander. That's why we didn't see them, at first," Cassiopeia explained. "We've only entered the living quarters." Apollo spied a series of metal rectangles affixed to the wall next to the elevator cage. It was a ladder. "Apparently, this ladder provides access to the top deck as well," Apollo said. "Starbuck, you climb up this thing with me." Adama, Wilker, Salik and Cassiopeia stepped onto the elevator disk and went up, while Starbuck and Apollo climbed the ladder. The lights were even dimmer on the top deck level than they were on the lower level. The first thing the group saw through the gloom was the air lock, located on the room's left side. Unfortunately, they almost found themselves covering their ears against the whines, pops, beeps, and whistles that signified the functioning of the computers and flashing equipment lining the upper deck of the saucer. Starbuck crossed over to where the circumference of the ship merged into its bow, where the pilot and co-pilot sat facing the flight control consoles, which came complete with working radar and whatever passed for deep-scan on this ship and a trio of huge four-foot high portholes that afforded him a view of the surrounding launch bay. He guessed those portholes were made from transparent aluminum, just like a Viper's canopy, because such a huge area was an easy target for stray meteorites, which would blow out even the strongest of glass windows, and therefore dooming the ship. "Never seen anything like this before," he remarked, as he looked out the huge slanted portholes. Dr. Wilker noted a circular console in the center of the ship, with a small saucer model propped up on a stand encased within with a huge transparent bubble. He guessed that it was a navigation system, which would tell the crew if the ship was tilting or diving or whatever. To the rear were the cabin pressure controls. "Everything seems to be functioning," Cassiopeia observed. "Doc," said Starbuck to Wilker, as he stepped away from the astrogator, "your boys ought to be able to figure all these gadgets out." "Yes, in time I'm sure we will." Hands behind his back, he was scanning the wall with the operating systems. The commander, as he looked around, noted the storage bay in the rear, wondering at first what was stored there, but then dismissing it as irrelevant. There, on the left side of the chamber, the objects of the group's main interest came into view. "It's incredible!" Adama cried breathlessly. "By the grace of God! Salik said, fighting back tears for the sleeping travelers. "Oh my Lord!" said Starbuck. "Bless their hearts... Look at them!" Salik said with breathless wonder. Built into the floor of the spacecraft were six suspended animation chambers and rows of highly technical cryogenic equipment. The chambers were fogged up, probably due to condensation from the intense cold within, but each held the unmistakable outlines of human beings, all sleeping on their feet, like a horse would. Salik stepped up to the first of the tubes, wiped away the condensation and frost particles from the front and looked inside. The face of a young man, with thick black hair, a high forehead, and closed sunken eyes, looked back at him. "Doctor, are they alive?" the commander asked as he stepped up beside the doctor. "This chap certainly is," Salik answered, easing a pencil-sized instrument out of his pocket and touching it, gently, to the tube. "Yes, all his vital signs register. But he's functioning at a very low level, in sort of trance state." "Making this a good way to conserve fuel, if they need to," said Apollo. "He looks to be a young man, I would say twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight yahrens," said Adama, studying the sleeping face on the other side of the plastic wall of the freezing tube. "About that, yes." Cassiopeia walked over to the fifth freezing tube, toward the rear of the chamber, and wiped away the condensation from that one. Curious, she looked in at the sleeping figure inside. It was a young girl; her mouth almost seemed to be curled into a little smile. Like the figure in the first free-zing tube her eyes were closed. Cassiopeia couldn't help but admire the girl's long dark brown hair, how it rested on her brow. It was tied into a ponytail at the back of her head, leaving the sides practically bare, revealing her delicate ear lobes. "Omigod!" Cassiopeia cried out when the realization of who she was looking at hit her. "I think---No, I'm sure! She's the one I saw in that strange video Apollo picked up that time we were in the celestial chamber!" Apollo walked over to where Cassiopeia stood, and peered through the hole she'd made in the condensation. "I don't believe it!" Apollo said, unable to contain his astonishment. "She can't be more than twelve yahrens old." Wilker had wiped away the condensation of the final freezing tube with a stout cloth. The young silver-clad boy sleeping in-side of this one seemed like the epitome of the boy next door, possessing the red-headed, freckled-faced appearance of a typical Colonial boy. "This lad is even younger, almost Boxey's age," he said. Unfortunately, the wonder of the moment was wasted on Starbuck. The minute he'd wiped away the condensation on the fourth freezing tube, he felt like he'd just fallen in love with the woman sleeping with-in. She was an attractive young willowy blonde, slim and shapely, her hair covering her brow like a second forehead. "Hello, Gorgeous," he said. "When you wake up, you'll have to fight off all the men on this ship with a stick," he said. Starbuck managed to take his attention off the blonde, and toward the second and third freezing tubes. A black-haired man, middle aged, occupied freezing tube number two, and a woman, middle-aged as well, with auburn-hair, occupied freezing tube number three. Doctor Salik was still scanning the figure in the first freezing tube. "They look like husband and wife," said Star-buck. "Not a very romantic trip for 'em, though. Propped up in these plastic prisons. They should've asked their travelator for first-class accommodations instead of this---deep freeze." "Hush up, good buddy," advised Apollo. "Yes, please do," seconded Wilker, who was studying a series of circular wall fixtures, like camera lenses, lining the wall behind the freezing tubes, strategically placed behind the backs of each of the sleeping travelers. There were a few flexible pipes snaking out of the metal wall, yet the setup seemed devoid of the usual pipes and wires that one would expect to be attached to a cryogenic sleeping chamber. In fact, the freezing tubes didn't seem to be attached to anything except the ceiling. "Obviously, their metabolism has been lowered to its minimum for sustaining life. This support system is set to maintain that life for as long as need be." Folding his arms, Apollo relaxed against the astrogator. "How long have they been like this?" Salik answered him. "Your guess is as good as mine, Captain." Still surveying the sleeping blonde woman, Starbuck said, "We have to talk with them, communicate somehow. How do we wake 'em up?" "Very carefully," answered Salik. "That's the trouble with cryonic suspension: if you don't handle the subject's awakening just right he'll die. And we don't have the slightest idea how this equipment functions." "You let me worry about that," advised Wilker. "We've found humans," said Star-buck. "Quite probably from Earth. How soon before we can revive them and have them talk to us?" "You can be sure our curiosity is as great, if not greater, than yours, Lieutenant," said Doctor Salik. "The revival of these half-dozen wayfarers will be accomplished as quickly as it can be done without endangering their lives." "I'd be inclined to select one of them and start making tests at once," said Doctor Wilker. "Since Cassiopeia seems to know the girl in the fifth freezing tube, I think we should start with her." "You mean...use her as a human testing drone?" said Commander Adama slowly and carefully. "And if you mistakenly short out her freezing tube and kill her?" Apollo became angry. "Too bad, huh? You'll just move on to the next one...that little boy in the last tube, for instance, right?" "Don't worry, Apollo. I won't tolerate anything like that," Adama said "Doctors, I hope you understand the significance of these people. Who they are, where they come from, and where they were going when we intercepted them, may be crucial to our survival, so I want absolutely no chances taken with their lives." "Commander, we will not be slipshod in our efforts," Wilker pleaded. "Just so we understand one another." Adama turned to Salik. "Before any attempt is made to open a single one of these tubes, you'll run every test possible. And then, Doctor, I want you to confer directly with me before taking any further step." "Certainly, Commander. I was intending to proceed in that manner any-way." "Might I make a suggestion?" said Wilker. "Now that the sightseeing is over, I'd like you to leave us alone to our work." He nodded in the direction of Starbuck. Deciding not to thumb his nose, Starbuck said, "They're all yours, Doc. For now." But Wilker still had his unspoken doubts. They might already have killed them---simply by bringing them aboard the Galactica! *************************************************** Chapter Five: School Days Excitement had spread to every part of the Galactica, even to the school bay of the huge battlestar, where a slightly distracted young woman was trying to conduct a class in Applied Science. She stood, not quite patiently, at the head of the domed room and watched the two-dozen children in her charge. They were whispering and chattering among themselves. "Kids," said Athena, clapping her hands, "let's settle down again and see if we can't get some work done before instructional period ends. Okay?" A silence, momentary at best, settled over the children and they all gazed up at the shapely, chestnut-haired young woman. "By now, I'm sure that most of you are aware that something special has happened." "People from Earth!" spoke out a brown-haired boy at a desk near the front of the room. "Starbuck and my dad found people from Earth." "Boxey, when desiring to address the class, use your question indicator. Please?" "I'm sorry Athena," said the child. "But that's what they found, sure enough." "You're excused," she said. "That seems the likely conclusion, although Doctor Salik and his staff aren't absolutely certain yet. Now, I'm sure that all of you realize that what happens throughout this day is liable to affect each of us for the rest of our lives. We're all a trifle nervous." Boxey flipped the toggle on his desktop, causing a red blip of light to flicker. "Yes," Athena said. "Boxey?" "If there are people inside, why don't they come out and say hello to us?" the child asked. "We can't allow it right now," Athena answered, "because their craft has to be decontaminated. Now, who knows what that means?" Boxey's light went on again. "It means we have to kill any bugs that might be on their ship." "Very good," Athena praised. "Now we are talking about those that are too small for us to see, aren't we? You all remember when we found ourselves thrown together on this fleet for the first time? Well, some of us had troubles, didn't we?" Another little light flashed, this time, at the desk of a small blonde girl. "Yes, Beroca?" "My parents got sick from eating the food." "Yes," Athena said, faintly disgusted at the casual way the child was talking about her parent's illness; she might as well have been talking about eating a mushie. "Now, we aren't saying that there was anything wrong with these liquids, but that they contained bacterial strains, which some of our people from the outer colonies had to get used to. Their bodies had to do what? Class?" "Adjust," they all answered as one. "Very good," Athena said. "I'm glad you all remembered. Now, if you'll all look at your monitors, you can read today's key phrase for today's lesson." Every child in the classroom directed his or her attention to the computer monitor situated on the right side of each desk. As Athena promised, the cursor danced across the screen, printing out the vital phrase. They all read it aloud. " 'The Human life form can adapt to any varied environment and improve.'" "The key thing in remembering adapting is... time," she explained. "It takes time for our bodies to adjust." The light on the desk of the little girl called Beroca went on again. "My mommy says there are kids inside the ship that Lieutenant Starbuck brought back." "Well, yes there are---" "Beroca, it was my dad, Apollo, who found the ship and brought it here," put in Boxey. "I mean, Starbuck brought it along, but it was---" "Boxey, your light. Remember?" "But she hadn't ought to say that it was Starbuck that found them," in a vain attempt to justify his rudeness. "Yes, we understand. It was Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck, while on a scouting patrol, who found this mysterious ship and brought it back to us," said Athena. "Now, did you have another question, Taelon?" The little girl made a face at the nearby Boxey. "Every time I try to ask something he yells at me." "Boxey didn't mean to interrupt you, Beroca. And he's sorry." "Yeah, sure," said Boxey. "I'm sorry, but my dad did find it first." "That will do, Boxey." "Excuse me," the boy said. "Beroca?" "I wanted to know if there are really kids in that ship?" "There are children inside the ship. Three children, in fact." Another light flashed. "Yes, Jondalu?" "What do they look like?" The teacher smiled. "They're kids, just like you, only from another world. And you'll be able to see and talk to them, once we're able to bring them out of suspended animation. Do you know what that means? Boxey?" His light had been flashing, in forced observance of classroom protocol. "It means they're sort of taking a long nap. Only in deep freeze." Jondalu's light blinked. "Why are they asleep? Wouldn't you want to stay awake on a trip, so you could see everything?" Athena said, "Try to understand, Jondalu. Not everyone is as advanced as we are in space travel. When your spaceship can't travel immense distances at the speed of light, you have to be put to sleep. In fact, you have to be put in a state where your body is slowed down, so you don't age much." "Otherwise," said Boxey, "Everybody'd get to their destination and be old. A bunch of old people wouldn't do much good on a rough trip." "Boxey, there are many benefits that come with age. One of which is patience and tolerance." "I flashed my light that time," he told her. Jondalu asked, "Where are they going to?" "We don't know that yet." Beroca said, "Maybe they'll never get there now. On account of we stopped them. Was that right to do?" Athena rubbed her palm with the fingers of her other hand. "We think it was, since these people may be able to tell us things that are important to us." "They're gonna feel funny," said the little girl. "Waking up and they aren't where they thought they were." "Maybe they won't wake up," said Boxey. Athena gave him a frowning look. "What do you mean by that, Boxey?" "Well, Doctor Wilker may make a mistake and they'll all die before he can get them out of their freezing tubes." "Freezing tubes?" asked a lanky boy near the rear of the room. "Boxey said they have to freeze ya if your ship's too slow," Beroca said. "Actually, that was a figure of speech," said the young woman. "As I understand it, the function of the vertically situated plastic tubes each member of the family is sleeping in is, partially, to lower the body temperature and metabolism of each occupant to slow the aging process down." She could tell by the blank looks on the faces of the kids that she wasn't quite getting through to them. "Let me put this another way," Athena continued. "Suspension is the technique of slowing life functions down to a minimum through exposure to intense cold. In our world, it's been a common medical technique ever since the Great Scientific Renaissance on Caprica centuries ago. In the early days of sub-light space travel it was used to keep a ship's passengers alive on their yahren long voyages with minimal consumption of food and oxygen. Today, it's used mostly in cases where the necessary antidote is temporarily unavailable or where elaborate diagnostic tests must be completed before the commencement of treatment." "When are they gonna wake up?" another child wanted to know. "As soon as it can be safely done," answered Athena. "Sooner if Doc Wilker screws up the works," said Boxey. "Young man, it really isn't polite to be so critical of the doctor." "He's an arrogant nitwit," said Boxey. "I know, because I heard my father say so. And Lieutenant Starbuck agreed. He said Wilker was a cold fish, too, Starbuck did. I'm not exactly sure what that means." "In the future, young man, I suggest you pay no attention to most of what Lieutenant Starbuck says," the teacher admonished. Beroca's light flashed again. "What do you think the Earth people will have to tell us?" Athena answered. "I really am not sure." ********************************************** She found him in a long blank-walled corridor. "Apollo," called Athena. The captain had been strolling purposefully along a few yards ahead of her. He halted, turned around and smiled. "Ah, my favorite schoolmarm and sister." But she returned a frown instead of a smile. "We have to talk, brother." "Is it about Boxey?" He rested one palm flat against the metal wall. "Last report I had from him, he was doing okay in everything except Stellar Geography. "Yes, it's about Boxey---and you!" "I really didn't help him with that last math paper, no matter what he says." "It's about the Earth people." "Possible Earth people," he corrected. "The children are quite excited about what's happening," she went on, "and naturally we've been discussing the whole thing in class." "Why pick on Boxey and me? Every-body aboard the Galactica is excited. This is a big event." Athena said. "That's why I don't want your negative attitude upsetting the kids." "Negative? Starbuck and I are the ones who spotted the ship and brought it home. Maybe I don't jump up and down and wave a cigar like Starbuck does, but I assure you, Athena, I'm just as upbeat as he is." "I can understand your talking freely in front of Boxey, although I might not raise a child of mine that way," she said. "You've got to remember, though, he's not old enough or sophisticated enough to know when you two are joking. And sometimes you voice opinions in front of him that should be kept to yourselves." "You sound like you're accusing me of telling him dirty stories." "He was repeating in class some nasty remarks you and Starbuck made about Doctor Wilker. About the man who built Muffit for him, for Sagan's sake." Apollo gave a short laugh. "Come on, Athena," he said. "I'm not going to pretend that I think Wilker isn't a cold-blooded officious son of a daggit." "And you're entitled your opinion, Apollo. But those opinions have to stay out of my classroom," she said. "The morale of those kids can be undermined if they start thinking the people, the adults, are fools and incompetents." "Starbuck and I were criticizing one man," he told her. "I'm sorry if Boxey heard us. But Athena, you're not doing any of the children any good if you try to give them the idea that adults are all perfect and it's only kids who screw up." "What they learn will be decided be me, not you." "Hold it right there, sis," said Apollo, putting his hand on her slim shoulder. "Everybody is running at a high pitch, today. So let's call a truce, Athena. Okay?" She turned away from him for a few seconds, studying the rivets in the wall. "Okay, but...well, don't make Boxey cynical before his time." "I'll try not to," said Apollo. Athena faced him, taking a deep breath. 'What do you really think'll happen?" she asked. "Will that family be able to tell us something?" "I sure hope so," Apollo answered. ************************************** Chapter Six: Controversy Doctor Salik was studying what he perceived to be one of the strangest looking instruments he'd ever seen. It rested in a small alcove on the right side of the ship's main flight deck, a hodgepodge of exposed gears supporting an orange sphere studded with flashing lights. The entire apparatus rested on a circular pedestal at the alcove's bottom. The poor doctor couldn't even begin to guess what this clumsy looking device did. "It's hopeless," he wailed. "Nothing on the Galactica seems to correlate with their symbols or systems." Wilker stood to Salik's right, studying another device set into the vehicle's walls; a computer, but one that utilized the old reel-to-reel tape method of data storage. "Why do you say that? They're human," Wilker said. "Their ship flies, draws energy." Salik looked at his colleague. "Humans, yes, but humans who speak a different language from ours. How can we really fathom the meaning of any words or numbers we see on these instrument panels?" He paused, looking up at a series of knobs, lights and dials set into a slanted juncture of the wall. There was the image of a bird of prey engraved just above two buttons. "Take that symbol, for instance," Salik continued, "what do you suppose it is?" Wilker looked at it. "One of their gods, no doubt." He sighed, a twinge of the same frustration Salik was feeling washing over him. "I hate to say it, but we're not going to figure all this out without taking some chances." ******************************************* Lieutenant Boomer was slouched slightly in his chair; chin resting on his fist, and staring out of one of the lounge's view windows. He turned away from contemplating the vastness of space when Apollo joined him at his table. "Hail the conquering hero," he quipped. "Save that for someone who really feels like a conquering hero, which I don't," said Apollo. Sheba, who was sitting next to Boomer, frowned. "You look like you just lost your first love." Apollo shook his head. "I've just overheard some of the technicians talking. They're not making any progress in there." "Give them some time," Athena urged. Apollo became apprehensive. "They may not have any time, Athena. And that's causing me to have second thoughts about what we did out there." "You sound like you think there's some sort of...choice to be made here," Boomer said. "Now that you mention it, Boomer, there is," said Apollo. "What are you talking about?" Sheba was astonished. "You found a ship drifting in space, with living beings inside. Now Apollo, you know we're doing everything we can for them. We're not Cylons here, you know." "If we fool with their life support systems, then, as far as I'm concerned, we're just as bad as the Cylons," Apollo said. "Maybe we just ought to leave them alone. Three of them are just children, you know, and the idea of tinkering with kids makes me sick to my stomach." Boomer said. "Leave them alone? Is that what we're supposed to do to the first humans we've encountered who are clearly from another civilization?" "Have you forgotten about Crodan, Sectar, Equellus, Antilla, and the Proteus Prison Asteroid?" Athena said. "Those planets had human populations too." "I can tell you right now this family didn't come from any of those places, Athena," said Boomer, leaning toward his friend. "Everybody we've encountered up to now, every colony or outpost, have been drifters or pioneers from one of our own planets. Terms, dress, technology, all familiar to us." "True," Athena admitted. "So what are you saying, Boomer?" Sheba said. "That even if a few of the humans we've run across, say, like in that hick town back on Sectar, Serinity, were descendants of the lost thirteenth tribe, they were probably just stragglers left behind," continued Boomer, his voice intense. "Now, right here on this ship of ours, for the first time, we've actually found human life forms that are from a technologically advanced civilization. That's what the whole point of the voyage has been." "He's right, you know," said Star-buck, strolling up and taking the third chair at the table. "That's why we've risked our lives staying on this tin can rather than stopping at one of the planets we've passed that could've supported life." Apollo made his right hand into a fist and rested it on a tabletop. "It is not the reason why we've never stopped; we've never stopped because never been strong enough to stop anyplace else. We've been a fugitive people, on the run from a murderous alien empire for the crime of simply being human." "Er, uh, not for some time," Starbuck pointed out. "Can you remember the last time we saw a Cylon? It's been sectons, right?" "Your point?" "I say we've just been dealt a terrific hand and we have to play it out. We're going to win, too. So...why don't we just lighten it up a little bit?" "Starbuck, you're a nifty viper pilot and the best fighting man in the fleet," said Apollo, "but you see everything in absolutes: We win or we lose; we find Earth or we don't; a girl says yes or she says no. Good buddy, the quality of civilization is determined by the values placed between these extremes." Starbuck took a slow sip of his drink. "Would you mind repeating that last part for me? It sounds profound enough for me to copy it down and have it embroidered on a pillow or something. 'The quality of...' How'd the rest go?" Sheba said, "Apollo, maybe you're being a little too hard on Starbuck. Shaking his head, Apollo said, "Now I know how you feel, Athena; trying to drum some knowledge into a bunch of restless kids." "Wait now," said Starbuck, grinning, looking over at Apollo's beautiful sister. "Athena, you know I'd listen to you. In fact, just about any pretty lady has a heck of a good chance of reaching me with her message." After a few seconds, Boomer said, "You were about to make some other point, Apollo. Before the hotshot here came traipsing in." "Traipsing? I resent that, Boomer." "I've just been thinking about those six wayfarers," said Apollo. "Especially the three children, but all of them really. I don't know, when we were out there and we saw that ship of theirs I was elated. Here it was, a chance to get more input about Earth. So we brought them here." "Which," said Starbuck, "was absolutely the smart thing to do, old chum." "Maybe." "Maybe?" "It's been occurring to me, especially when I see Salik and Wiker and a whole army of doctors and technicians swarming all over the craft like maggazons on a side of rotten beef, that the best thing to do would be to let them go on their way unmolested." "You mean like taking out the hook and tossing the fish back into the stream after landing it?" asked Boomer. "These six aren't war booty," said Apollo. "They're people and we've interfered with them. We may very well keep them from ever fulfilling their mission." Starbuck made an exasperated noise and popped a fresh cigar between his teeth. "Now, Boomer, you see what it's like working with this guy," he said. "He never turns that brain of his off, it's working round the clock. Going back over what we've done, trying to find a way to worry about some dinky trivial thing." "I still say you guys did the right thing," said Boomer. "I'd have done exactly the same thing if I'd spotted that ship while on scout patrol." "Bojay and I would've hauled it in, too," Sheba pointed out. "Just because someone else would've done the same thing does not make it right," said Apollo. "You really want to let these people go, old chum?" Starbuck studied his friend's face. "Push 'em out of the docking bay and let 'em get on with their trip?" "For their sake, yes." "But we still don't know what that vessel does or where it's taking them," said Starbuck, lighting his cigar with an angry flick of his igniter. "If we toss them out into space that crate may just turn into a derelict. I mean it could be it long ago forgot where they were supposed to be going. Maybe somewhere along the line the line the memory banks got erased or something." "From everything I've just seen of it," Apollo began, "our visitor in that launch bay isn't so much a ship as it is a big spacegoing computer, with the pilot, helm and main astrogation console seeming to be after-thoughts. Now, if we don't tamper too much with the operating systems, it's more than capable of delivering its passengers to the right destination." "You're daft," said Starbuck. "You see a red-headed, freckled-faced little boy in silver jammies sleeping on his feet in a big plastic tube and you get mushy. These six people are important to us. We have to find out what it is they know." "But knowledge demands a price," said Apollo. "Should those people be the ones to pay it?" At the next table a chubby young man in the uniform of a security guard leaned back and turned toward them. "If anyone's interested in my vote," he said in his nasal voice, "I'm with Starbuck. I say let's go in there and open those damn tubes quick. We have to start interrogating those people, because the lives of every damn one of us depend on what they know." Starbuck scanned the plump youth. "Reese, get out of our conversation before I ram this mug down your throat!" "Listen, Starbuck, I wasn't suggesting that we do anything that would hurt those kids." "That's as far as you can go," warned Starbuck, pushing back his hair and raising a cautionary hand. "Geeze, whose side are you on?" "I'm on my own side, buster. And I don't need some nitwit security officer to fight my philosophical battles." "All right," said Reese. "Suit your-self. But I'm not the only one who feels like this. Now sooner or later the fleet's gonna stop letting those old boys tinker around in there and demand that we open those freezing tubes. And if they're human, they breathe air, just like you and I do...fresh air." The roughhewn security officer stood up from his barstool. "And speaking of fresh air, I think I'm gonna go get me some." He looked at Apollo and Starbuck, the contempt written lucidly all over his face, and remarked, "It's always a little stuffy around you two." Then he went stomping off. Apollo jumped up, ready to come at the security man with murder in his eyes. "Now wait a damn minute, officer---" "Apollo," said Starbuck, putting a restraining hand on the captain's arm and keeping him storming away from their table, "save your violence for the triad courts, okay?" Boomer watched the security man's departure. "The point of the lounge is to let off a little tension, not to fight. That's what we're here for." Starbuck added, "Besides, aren't you getting a little confused? I'm supposed to be the hotheaded impulsive one." "What happened to that winning personality I've been hearing about so much, Apollo?" Sheba asked. "Did you leave it in your viper?" "I should've punched all his gallmonging teeth out! And Starbuck, yes, I'm confused, but I still find it hard to offer even one life in sacrifice...not even to save thousands." Apollo rose up. "I'm going to see how the doctors are coming." "Think I'll tag along," offered Starbuck. "They don't need a crowd down there," said Apollo. "I'll fill you in as soon as I know anything new." Nodding, Starbuck picked up his tankard. "I'm not willing to risk those kids' lives either, especially that young blonde that seems to be the oldest among those three kids. I kinda like her." "I noticed." Apollo left the table. *********************************************** Chapter Seven: Anything That Can Go Wrong Will An unexpected sizzle of yellowish sparks came sputtering out of the wall and showered down on the floor behind the plastic freezing tube that held the sleeping red-headed boy. A constant staccato beeping, as of an alarm, followed the misadventure. "Frak!" exclaimed Doctor Wilker. "I thought I'd told you to be careful!" admonished Doctor Salik bitterly. He was over at the right side of the circular chamber, poring over the dials and gauges set into the wall near the air lock. Wilker withdrew the hand-held probing tool he'd been using to test the panels of flashing lights and wiring array in the life support area. "I seem to have blown out a fuse," he said puzzled. "Which is odd, since this whole setup looks simple and easy to understand. What are the instruments doing?" "There was a temporary drop on every indicator here; power, gases and everything. I'd say you struck the central nerve of the whole life support system," Salik said to his colleague. "Well, at least we're getting closer." "Closer? You might have shorted out their whole ship," said Salik angrily. "You're as good as murdering that whole family if you keep going on like this. You refuse to admit the obvious: We don't know what we're doing!" "I'm being as careful and thorough as I can under the circumstances," said Wilker. "I really do believe, doctor, that we don't have time to move at the tiptoe pace you'd like me to." "We have all the time we need." "Do we? Already, Sire Geller has been trying to get in here to talk to these people," said Wilker. "I am not about to cross the Council of Twelve or jeopardize my career." "It's these people's lives you ought to be worrying about," said Apollo as he stepped out of the elevator cage and crossed over to the freezing tubes. "What happened?" "We don't need your interference just now, Captain," said Wilker. "It look's to me like you do. What's going on here?" "We've found that the gas being used in the system is stored in a liquid form and is regenerated and recycled in some way that has to do with these circuits," said Wilker impatiently. "Now, if you'll just toddle off, maybe we can learn even more." "Dr. Salik, you don't look quite so optimistic," Apollo said to Wilker's associate. "I would prefer to work at a much slower rate, to make more tests." "Didn't I just get through saying that we simply don't have the time, Salik?" Wilker said. "I heard you mentioning Geller," said Apollo. "But he has no authority over this operation." "He thinks he does. It isn't wise to cross the Council, Captain." Turning his back on the scientist, Apollo addressed Salik. "Are things going wrong?" "Yes, there are problems, but they're nothing we can't handle," insisted Wilker. Salik shook his head. "Don't lie to him, Wilker. Apollo, the truth is...the system's slowly losing power." "I demand an explanation at once!" roared Apollo. "Well, for one thing, as we probe the circuits in here, we occasionally short out lines, thereby draining off energy." "I'll have your hide for that, Doctor Wilker!" Apollo said. "Nothing critical, Captain," said Wilker. "We can solve the technology of this system in time." "And exactly how much time do we have, Doctor?" Apollo asked. "How far is it to Earth?" Salik said with intense alarm. "Or how far have they come? Or how much farther was this system intended to support their frail lives?" "I want you to discontinue your work at once," said Apollo decisively. Wilker blinked. "Captain, I'm afraid you don't have the authority to---" "I'm not asking you---I'm ordering you out of this ship." He caught hold of the scientist's arm. "Doctor Salik, I'll permit you to stay here and monitor the situation on the condition that you will apprise me of any change." "Very well," said Salik, rubbing his hand along his side thoughtfully. "You and I, Wilker, will go talk to my father," said Apollo. "Oh, don't you worry," said Wilker with a frosty smile. "I wouldn't miss a chance to talk to the Commander for any-thing. You are in a lot of trouble, son." ***************************************************** Commander Adama was frowning at the image on the communication screen. "I think I've already made myself perfectly clear," he said evenly. "You can tell the Council, Sire Geller, that until I am absolutely persuaded that---" "Then you're refusing me entry to this captured ship?" "The vehicle was not captured. Merely brought into the docking back for study." "Whatever you want to call the blasted thing," said the impatient buritician, "we of the Council reserve the right to make an inspection." "I can't allow that. Not at this time." "If not now, then when?" "You'll be informed, Geller," said Adama. He flicked off the screen. Leaving his chair, the commander made a slow circuit of his quarters. A speaker just over the doorway cut intruded on his thoughts by announcing: "Captain Apollo and Doctor Wilker to see you, sir." "Send them in." The door hissed open and his son came striding in, followed by the sardonically smiling scientist. "Apollo!" Adama's back stiffened upon first sight of Doctor Wilker. "What do you think you're doing?" "Good question. Who better to answer it than this hotheaded offspring of yours?" Wilker said. "Sit down," Adama invited, settling into a chair. "I sincerely hope you have a good explanation for this, Apollo." "I ordered the scientific team to quit working on the ship," his son explained, ignoring the chair he'd nodded at. "How do you justify that?" "They're running a risk of shutting off the whole cryogenic sleep system," explained Apollo, pacing. "Doctor Salik apparently has the patience to do the job right, but Doctor Wilker is rushing things." "I only rush things when I'm forced to." "He's caused some damage already," accused Apollo, pointing at the scientist. "There's a possibility that, if he's allowed to keep tinkering, he'll abort the whole business and kill every damned one of those people." "I don't appreciate you calling my work, 'tinkering,' Captain." Carefully, Wilker lowered himself to a stuffed chair. Adama glanced at him. "Was there some danger?" "Oh, not at all, not at all." "But, you have had some sort of accident?" "I admit to accidentally blowing a fuse," said Wilker. "And, yes, it did cause the power to diminish. Nothing serious, as far as I know." "If that cryogenic sleep system fails, they die," said Apollo. "That's sure as hell-fire serious." Adama stroked his chin. "You took a good deal upon yourself, Apollo. That took a certain amount of courage to do what you did," he said, with a trace of approval in his voice. "I didn't think there was time for a vote." "All I needed was a little more time!" Wilker protested. "Unfortunately, I didn't get around to mentioning this to your impetuous cub here, but we found an operations manual in that craft." "I'd like to see that manual as soon as possible," said Adama." "I can't do that. It's built into the instrumentation of the ship's upper level and functions as an integral part of it. So far, I've determined that the atmosphere of the planet these people came from is approximately one-fifth the atmosphere of, say, Caprica. What's more, I've learned that this ship is called the Jupiter 2, five of those people, with the exception of whoever he is in the first freezing tube are called Robinsons, their flight was, and probably still is, being controlled from someplace called Alpha Control, which is located on their home planet, Terra." "Wait a centon," said Adama. "Did you say Terra?" "Yes sir," replied Wilker. "Terra," Adama repeated. "Terra in Gemonese means 'Earth.'" "That doesn't mean that the 'Terra' that these Robinsons came from is the Earth we're looking for," Apollo pointed out. "And it hardly makes any difference to me. What you both seem to be avoiding is the fact that we've illegally seized a foreign craft and interrupted its perfectly legitimate course between two unknown points!" "Illegally seized?" Adama asked. "What else do you call it when you take a ship out of flight and then tamper with its functions until its resources begin to dwindle?" "Forgive me son, I had no idea." Adama turned to Wilker. "Are they dwindling?" "Well, there has been a slight power loss, but that's to be expected," said Wilker. "We don't know what we're doing!" Apollo cried. "Apollo, mind your manners," Adama admonished. "Doctor Wilker isn't the villain here. He's trying to help." "Look, I know that," Apollo said. "But we still can't put the lives of those six people in his hands or anybody else's in this fleet!" The commander studied his son for a few silent microns. "I'm not sure what your point is, Apollo," he said finally. "My point is, we made a terrible mistake," he said. "Starbuck and me, you and those science boys and the Council of Twelve. We're all wrong!" "That's not what you were saying earlier." "That's because I was buoyed by the discovery," answered Apollo, "acting like a kid at Yuletime. Now, after thinking, after seeing those people asleep and trusting in those plastic tubes...well, we're wrong. Doctor Wilker and Doctor Salik shouldn't be allowed to go on." Steepling his fingers over his broad chest, Commander Adama asked, "What do you suggest?" Apollo spread his hands wide. "That we let them go." "Let them go?" "Yes, let them go. As in---put the Jupiter 2 back on its original course." The commander left his chair. "In doing that, Apollo, we'd lose any chance of communicating with the Robinsons." "Even if they stay here, there's a good chance they'll die before we can talk to them, anyway," his son said. "Three children, two men and a woman." "You're allowing, if I may intrude in a family squabble," said Doctor Wilker, "sentiment to outweigh logic. Terra and Earth are one in the same, right? Then that makes what these six may have to impart to us of considerable importance." "Felgercarb! Now what, pray tell, could that ten-yahren-old boy and his twelve-yahren old sister do or say that could save us all?" said Apollo. "It wouldn't surprise me they turn out to be some kind of child prodigies," said Wilker, dismissing Apollo's argument with an annoyed wave of his hand. "I think it's worth every risk we take." "Commander," said the speaker over the entrance, "Sire Geller from the Council of Twelve insists on seeing you. At once." Adama nodded at his son. "Don't get into a fight with him," he cautioned. "Very well, let him in." The door whispered open and the councilman entered. His chins were fluttering and his Council robes flapped out behind him as he stomped in. "Adama!" he bellowed. "Calm yourself, sire," Adama urged. "According to Doctor Salik," Apollo said, ignoring Adama's earlier warning, "those people, three adults and three children, may expire before this time cycle is over." "Which is all the more reason to break the seals on those chambers and try to revive them," Geller said to Apollo. "Please, Geller," Adama soothed, "one more opinion is the last thing we need at this time. I, myself, had assumed our conversation was at an end." "You assumed wrong, Commander. As I recall, it was you who disconnected our line, leaving me no choice but to come here in person." "Do others share your opinion, or do you stand alone Gellar?" said Adama. "I most assuredly do not!" said Geller, every pound of him looking unhappy. "Representatives and dignitaries are coming aboard the Galactica from every ship. All of them, each and every one of them mind you, interested in the same thing---the secrets to be wrested from the voyagers who repose at this very minute in---in---. "The ship is called the Jupiter 2," Wilker supplied. "This sounds like a campaign speech," said Apollo under his breath. "... Therefore, Commander, I have been sent by the Council itself, the awesome body which is responsible for the efficient running of the vast---" "You have yet to tell me what the problem is," said Adama. "We're all furious with your inaction!" Geller said. "Furious? At my inaction?" Adama's face turned white with rage. "While we're reluctant to take matters out of your competent hands," Gellar said, "we can't sit around idle while you do nothing. I won't even bother to protest the rude treatment I and several other very important officials have suffered by not being allowed so much as even one glimpse at the most significant find we've ever made." "And what right do I have to pass sentence on those three children?" Adama said. "Quite right Adama," Geller said, using a different tone of voice from when he'd first stormed into the commander's quarters. "No, no, no. I agree. Our people judge you far too harshly. In fact, the Council would like to take the burden of being solely responsible for this situation off your capable shoulders. Why don't we simply take a vote on it?" "They haven't already decided?" said Adama. His brows furrowed, Adama turned to his son, "Apollo, you will be responsible for the security of the Jupiter 2," he said. "Very well, Geller. Why don't we call the Council into session at once?" "Whatever you wish, Adama," Geller said mockingly as he left the commander's quarters. "'Whatever you wish, Adama,'" the commander repeated in a mocking parody of the pompous buritician. **************************************************** Chapter Eight: See The Robinson's! Only 25 Cubits! Doctor Salik ducked his head slightly as he stepped out of the Jupiter 2. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "Going to be some time, yet," he said. Starbuck had been crouching near the ship's third landing leg. Taking his cigar out of his mouth, he stood and said, "You may not have as much time as you thought, Doc." Salik noticed the growing cluster of people on the other side of the see-through restraining wall. "I'd like it if all these gawkers were herded elsewhere." "Some of them are Council members," said Apollo. "And the security force is afraid to prod them." "Anything new in there?" Starbuck asked the doctor. "Nothing encouraging," he said. "I'm going up to talk to the commander. You'll see to it that no one gets inside." "You can count on us, Doc," promised Starbuck. "That 'no one' includes you fellows," Salik walked up to the doorway in the wall and signaled to a security guard. A husky young man activated the door release and the door hissed open. "You don't have to worry about anyone getting in there, Doctor Salik," he said. "We'll contain the crowd until the orders arrive." "I wasn't informed about any orders." "The Council is voting right now to terminate their cryogenic sleep systems and let those folks... Robinsons, aren't they...out of their tubes." "You can't let them do that!" He shook his head angrily. "Apollo, Starbuck, see to it that that doesn't happen!" "Not to worry, Doc. Nobody'll get by us," Starbuck assured him. "You go on up and tell the commander what's going on." Nodding absently, the doctor pushed his way through the growing crowd in the corridor. Before the closing the door, the guard, Reese, said, "You always did seem to have a goofy idea of how things work, Starbuck." Starbuck rubbed his right fist. "I know how things work, Reese." "The point being, we're in charge here," Reese informed him. "I'd hate to have to tangle with you over---" "Wait a minute! This is a military bay," said Apollo. "You and your men only have jurisdiction over civilians aboard the Galactica." Reese shrugged. "We'll see." He shut the door. "Halfwit!" commented Starbuck, rubbing at his fist again. "Seems to me the Council out to be voting on how to get smarter guys into security ranks." "Save your anger," advised Apollo. "We're probably going to have to hold off more important gents than him. ********************************************** The black-haired young man was the first to awaken. His sunken and slightly droopy eyes popped open, revealing their hazel-brown irises. A humming started up in his freezing tube and then a light came on in the ceiling of the tube and burned, first pale green, then an intense red. A scarlet glow bathed the awakening man, followed next by a second humming. Very gradually, the door of the freezing tube swung open. The young man, taking in a careful breath, looked first around the ship, then out of the main viewing window at the ship's bow. "We---We made it," he muttered in a dry, weak voice. "We're safe." Gradually, awareness returned to his face. He began flexing the gloved fingers of his right hand. He took another breath and then stepped out of the freezing tube. His legs shook and wobbled as he tried to walk on them. He put out both arms, forming his body into a T-shape, and walked as if on a balance beam, toward the right side of the Jupiter 2's flight deck. He ran his tongue over his lips several times and shook his head slowly from side to side. "Atmosphere in---the Jupiter---somehow doesn't feel quite right." Swaying slightly, he made his way to the little porthole on the right hemisphere of the circular ship and looked out. He frowned, mouth opening, and then pulled his head back. He shook his head and began to inspect the other plastic freezing tubes. He looked in on the children first. "All okay," he said after a few minutes. From a slash pocket in his one-piece silver flight suit, he took a small plastic key. He walked over to the main helm and cockpit, knelt by the first slanted control panel, inserted the key in a little hole in the right hand corner and turned it. An uneven humming seemed to come from the freezing tube of the middle-aged man and woman. Sparks appeared on the seams, followed by little wisps of smoke. Then the doors of their tubes swung open. "John, Maureen," he breathed. "Wake up! For God's sake, wake up!" The auburn haired woman's eyelids fluttered before her husband's did. She opened her eyes and looked at him with no sign of recognition." "Who--?" "It's only me. Major Don West, your pilot." The man called John awakened next. "What's up, Don? Have we arrived at Alpha Centauri yet?" "That's just it," said Major West. "I haven't the faintest idea where we are. Someone's kidnapped us." Maureen Robinson glanced around at the remaining freezing tubes. "Will? Penny? Judy?" "They're fine," Don answered. "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna revive them. Not the way things look out there." "I'm afraid my wife and I don't follow you," John Robinson said as he stepped out of his freezing tube. "No one's supposed to be awake until we've landed. If this isn't Alpha Centauri, then where is it?" "If I knew that, John, I wouldn't have roused you and Maureen out of your freezing tubes," he told the older black-haired man. "We're in either a Terran moonbase or space station, but I didn't know there were any this far away from home. Maureen became concerned. "You don't suppose we've been recaptured by---?" "It's possible," he replied. "On the other hand, it's more likely we're in a Nationalist installation...but those fighter craft they're housing seem a little too advanced, even for our side." "Then who are we dealing with?" John said. "All I can tell you is that they're humans, at least the ones I got a glimpse of when I looked out the observation window." "Then are they the ones that revived you?" Maureen asked. He shook his dark head. "The Jupiter 2 may have assumed we'd ended the journey," he said. "My being awakened might just be the result of a malfunction of some kind." "It's no malfunction, Major," John said, coming from behind his freezing tube. "Somebody was puttering around in here. Whoever it was, he blew out the main fuse in the circuitry of the cryogenic sleep matrix. It's a good thing our ship can automatically repair any damaged systems, otherwise we'd all be dead by now." Maureen began to walk away from her freezing tube, to come up beside her husband. "Then we'll have to find out who it was," she said. "We're going to have to confront whoever diverted us and tell them right out that they can't do it!" John bellowed. "Whoa, John!" Major West said, smiling at him. "I know that look. You'd better get control of your temper." "It's not a temper," he said. "I simply don't let anyone push us around. These people who captured us, no matter who they may be or who they think they are, have no right whatsoever to do this. Don, I want you to march right out and tell them what---" "Aren't you forgetting my function on this ship?" Don said. "I'm supposed to stay here and watch the ship, protect the kids." "All right then, I'll scout around a bit," John Robinson said. "Find out what I can." "Not without me you're not," Maureen said. "I'm can handle myself as well as you can." "I know, I know," the Robinson patriarch responded. "But I'm not comfortable with---" "There's no debate about it!" Maureen became cross. "I'm going out there with you---end of story!" After a few seconds, Don said, "Like the President told us when we left Terra, 'Go in peace.' And watch your temper too. Don't let them hurt Maureen." "You know I won't," promised John Robinson. **************************************************** It was chilly in the large domed meeting chamber of the Council of Twelve and in the brief silences between verbal exchanges the faint metallic chattering of the air circulation systems could be heard. Sire Geller, a look of satisfaction on his plump face, was saying, "Very well. It has been decided. Since the support systems are failing anyway, we will, therefore, remove these humans from the ship known as Jupiter 2 as quickly and expediently as possible." Commander Adama said, "I won't be party to that. You just heard Doctor Salik tell you it might well kill them." "We'll be as careful and prudent as possible," Geller assured him, rubbing at one of his chins. "We'll begin with the oldest member among our space family. He would undoubtedly have the least trouble adjusting to his unfamiliar surroundings." "Gentlemen, you still don't understand," said Salik, rising up out of his chair. "We understand very well and have cast our votes accordingly," Geller reminded him. Doctor Salik shook his head from side to side. "I will not be responsible for six deaths." "But you're not responsible, we are," said the fat buritician. "The responsibility is ours, you are merely carrying out the will of the Council." "No, I can't." "Doctor, let me remind you that you have been ordered to do this." Salik took a step back from the vast table. "Let me remind you, Sire, that you'll have to find another doctor." He pivoted on his heel and went walking out of the room. When the startled murmuring faded, Geller turned to Adama. "Commander, go talk some sense into that man. Please." Slowly, the commander rose up. "Oh, I intend to, yes," he said. "Excellent. I trust you'll remind him of his duties?" "Not quite. I plan to tell him that I'm quite proud of him," said Adama, smiling to himself. "Somehow, lately, I've been seeing few and fewer men standing up for the things they believe in." "You can't go condoning insubordination," said Geller, puffing, "not with the morale of the fleet hanging in the balance." "I suggest you gentlemen reconsider your vote," said the commander as he walked toward an exitway. "I'd hate to see this lead to conflict among us." "Ah, but it won't come to that," said Geller, with a bit less than complete conviction. "Don't be too sure, sire," said Adama. **************************************** Chapter Nine: Emergence Starbuck and Apollo stood with their back to the open entryway of the Earth ship. "That smirk on Wilker's face scares me," said Starbuck, chomping down on his cigar. The scientist, flanked by two security guards, was hurrying up to the Earth ship. "Gentlemen, I regret to inform you," said Doctor Wilker, smiling smugly, "that you've lost. The Council has voted and the space family is to be revived at once." "You can't be serious," said Starbuck. "The whole damn Council as dimwitted as you are? Couldn't be." One of the security men said, "Step aside, please." "The vote is official, I assure you," said Wilker. Turning, he gestured toward the Earth ship. "Since I can't get any co-operation from the people aboard the Galactica, I've summoned two very efficient, and obedient, Med Techs from another ship of the fleet." Bowing his head, Starbuck rubbed his hands together. "What do you say, Apollo?" he inquired. "Think we can persuade these gents to keep out?" Apollo gave a negative shake of his head. "It's no use," he said. "We can't go against the Council." "Oh, no?" Starbuck said. "I've done it before and, chum, I'm more than ready to..." "Put your weapons away!" Wilker said, looking beyond Starbuck, his face whiter than a G2-class star. "We mean you no harm!" Starbuck laughed himself silly. "Check it out, Apollo! I haven't even drawn my laser yet and already ole Wilker's jumpin' out of his skin." Nudging him, Apollo said quietly, "I think he's talking about the man and woman standing behind you, Starbuck." Starbuck turned to see what Apollo was talking about. Sure enough, there was a man and woman standing behind him. The man was tall, 6 metrons, at least. His hazel eyes were set within a strong face topped by dark brown hair. Every woman in the fleet would have been swooning over him, had he only been a Colonial. The woman beside him was 5-metrons tall, with blue eyes, and had auburn hair. To Apollo's observant eyes, this woman could have passed for Sheba's mother because the resemblance was so strong. Unfortunately, both of them had strange-looking black pistols leveled at the Colonial party. "I don't what you people have in mind," the black-haired man said, "but I think it only fair to say that if you try anything cute, my wife and I will shoot you all dead right now!" Despite the man's chilling threat, Starbuck continued to laugh. "Well, I'll be a daggit on a sunspot! Looks like they didn't need Wilker's help to wake up." "These two didn't, anyway," said Apollo. He took a step toward the dark-haired man, holding his hand out in greeting. "Welcome to the Galactica. I'm Captain Apollo and this is Lieutenant Starbuck." Ignoring the greeting, the dark-haired man snarled, "You put that hand down be-fore I burn it off!" The auburn-haired woman studied Apollo for a split instant, and then lowered her pistol. "John," she said. "Maybe we should..." "Don't bother me!" he scolded. "I know what I'm doing!" To Apollo, his pistol still leveled at him: "All right, you've told me your names, so I guess I'll tell you ours. I'm John Robinson, commander of the space ship Jupiter 2. Beside me is my wife. My whole family and our pilot are in there." He indicated the Earth ship with his thumb. "If you try to harm us..." "Listen up, guy," said Starbuck. "We aren't out to hurt you or your family. In fact, we've been risking our astrums to see that nobody did you any harm." Doctor Wilker was scanning the middle-aged man and his apparent wife. "Please hear me out," he said in a different tone of voice than the one he'd been previously using. "I'm a scientist, Wilker is my name, and I merely want to come aboard and help you. You and your family." Reese, the security guard who'd been bothering Apollo and Starbuck back in the lounge, said, "Sorry, doc, we can't baby those two anymore." He pushed by the doctor and started for the Jupiter 2. "Everyone raise weapons!" he ordered his men. The gun in John Robinson's hand buzzed like an angry hornet. A beam of yellow light came knifing out of its barrel to hit the charging Reese's broad chest. Reese made a sudden whimpering sound. His hands started to clutch his chest, but then his fingers went slack. He collapsed to the floor like a sack of dirty laundry. "Impressive," said Starbuck, glancing from the fallen man to the gun. Wilker dropped to Reese's side and took hold of his wrist, checking for a pulse. "He's alive," he said. "It looks like our friend 'John' was bluffing. His weapon can't kill, only stun." "Yes, it can kill," barked John Robinson. "I only set it to stun so that if I had to shoot, you all would understand that I mean business." He took one step away from his wife, who was still standing close to the ship. "I would prefer not to kill anybody." "So would we," said Starbuck. "Live and let live, that's our motto." Apollo said. "I can see why you're uneasy. We ought to just talk and see if we can't come to some sort of understanding." The woman called Maureen Robinson suddenly stepped forward, in Apollo's direction. "Yes, we will talk," she said. "But first, I want to know why we've been brought here." She and John were taking rapid, short breaths and their faces were getting paler as they stood there. "Well, we didn't mean any harm," began Apollo, taking a step closer. "See, you and I...all of us really are brothers." "No, that couldn't be." John gestured at the docking bay and the people in it. "None of this is familiar to us. There's not a one of you dressed in any style we know." "Brothers," said Apollo, "who were separated, we think, quite awhile ago. We've been searching for--" "What is this place?" Maureen said. "It doesn't seem to be one of our abandoned moonbases." "It's not a moonbase, it's a ship," said Apollo. "We call it a battlestar and it's named Galactica." John Robinson looked straight up. "I don't buy it, friend! They...cannot...make... ...spaceships...this big..." John and Maureen's hands fluttered. John reached out to try to catch hold of something. Instead, the couple dropped to the floor like flies, their heads smacking the metal and they both lay still. "Frak!" exclaimed Starbuck. "Is he dead or what?" "Don't touch them!" It was Doctor Salik, who had just arrived on the scene and Cassiopeia was with him. "I don't need you, Salik," Wilker assured his colleague. "I'm perfectly capable of handling this." Ignoring him, Salik crouched beside the man and woman. "They're having severe respiratory problems." "It's the atmospheric density," said Cassiopeia. "Good thinking, nurse," said Doctor Salik. "Apollo, you and Starbuck rush these two to the decomp chambers. Cassie, they'll need about one fifth of our own atmosphere to thrive." "Hadn't you better come along?" asked Apollo as he and the lieutenant carefully picked up John and Maureen. ************************************************* Maureen looked up at her caregiver, struggling to get a few words out before he was about to close the lid on the decomp chamber. Her face was pale and tinged with blue. "What...what have you done with...my husband?" "We're taking care of him now. There's nothing to worry about," Doctor Salik assured her as he leaned in closer. "I'm only here to help you, so don't be afraid of me." "Who...who are you?" "My name is Salik. I'm a doctor. A medical doctor." "I... my name is...Maureen...Maureen Robinson," she said gasping in air. "I don't... I don't understand...why...why am I...why was John... having trouble breathing..." "You're simply not used to the same sort of atmosphere that we are, Maureen." He resumed lowering the hood of the de-comp chamber on Maureen Robinson, but was stopped when she put resistance on it with her hand. "Will...Penny... Judy...You...mustn't hurt them..." "We won't. Which one of you was revived first?" Maureen shook her head. "Our pilot, Don West. The ship is programmed to awaken the pilot automatically, in case of trouble." "He woke up first and then woke you and your husband up?" "That's---that's right. He'll---be worried when we're overdue---I'm sure." "Will he be coming out of the ship to look for you?" "No," Maureen gasped. "His orders are to stay with the ship no matter what. He only woke John and me up so that...so that we could...find out where we were...why the ship wasn't moving anymore." "Now, about Will, Penny and Judy; when will they come out of suspension?" "The ship...is programmed...to awaken them...when we reach our destination..." "Where's that?" "Alpha...Alpha Centauri...P-Planet...Four...But...this...this isn't...Alpha Centauri...is it?" "No, it isn't," Salik said, closing down the hood of the decomp chamber over Maureen's body. ******************************************** Chapter Ten: Mission Neither Approved Nor Disapproved In the center of a vast whiteness sat two grey respirator units. They bore an eerie resemblance to coffins and held the man and the woman who called themselves John and Maureen Robinson. Doctor Salik was leaning over the one that was aiding the middle-aged redheaded woman. "They both seem to be doing fine," he said. Starbuck took a thoughtful chew on his dead cigar. "You call that fine? They're flat on their backs and out cold." "I should, falling back on an old medical cliche, have said they were doing as well as could be expected, said the doctor as he made a delicate adjustment on one of the dials of Maureen's breathing tank. Apollo said, "What do you mean by that, Doctor?" Putting his hands in his uniform's pockets and gazing up at the rimmed ceiling of this wing of the Life Station, Salik replied, "Exactly what I said: they're doing fine---as long as they stay in these respirators." "Which doesn't make for a very fun-filled lifestyle, if you think about it," said Starbuck. "It's better than being dead," answered the physician. "But not much better," said Starbuck. "Oh, guys. This is my fault. I never should've---" "There's no time for faults now, young man," Salik admonished. "If I may please outline the problem once more..." "Proceed," said Apollo. "Thank you," Salik began, facing the nervous captain and the nervous lieutenant. "It's the pressure of our environment here on the Galactica. It was literally starting to crush them. Our air pressure is substantially stronger than what they are accustomed to." "But they're human, like us, so they ought to have been in an environment very much like this," said Captain Apollo. "We're adaptable," said Doctor Salik. "It may be that over many millennia their environment, the air they breathe, grew thinner. Very gradually, so that the majority of them could adapt to it easily." "The reverse could also be true," offered Apollo. "Our environment grew heavier." Salik nodded. "It's irrelevant," he said. "The bottom line is that they're simply not able to function in our world here." "And they can never come out of those tanks?" said Starbuck. "You saw what happened to John Robinson," said Salik. Starbuck eyed Apollo. "We are, old chum, going to have to do something about this," he said firmly. ****************************************** Commander Adama stood at the view window in his quarters. His forehead was furrowed. "We came very close to finding other humans," he said. "Perhaps the home planet of the Thirteenth Tribe itself." Clearing his throat, Colonel Tigh said, "I see no good reason why we can't sustain them, in hopes that they'll regain enough strength to communicate with us." Apollo and Starbuck were sitting, uneasy, in twin chairs across the room. Apollo said, "We can't do that, colonel." Tigh scowled. "We have to, Captain," he said. "The lives of every man, woman and child in this fleet may well depend on the answers. We must know if Earth can support us, if she is technically advanced enough to help us ward off our enemies and if she can protect herself if a Cylon invasion were to occur." "I can appreciate what you're saying," chimed in Apollo. "The thing is, Colonel, the life of the Robinson family isn't ours to do with as we please. No matter how important we may think these people may be to our own future." "As one warrior to another," said the colonel, "you must surely understand that in some situations the lives of the few must be risked for the good or the many." "But not this time!" insisted Apollo. Adama watched his son for a few silent microns. "You and Starbuck are the ones who brought these space wanderers to us, Apollo," he reminded." "That was Starbuck's mistake," Apollo told him, looking at the suddenly downcast lieutenant. "He shouldn't have done it." "This is ridiculous!" said Tigh. "While the lives of our people hang in the balance, we're sitting around like a bunch of guilty children and bewailing the obvious." "Just a milicenton, Tigh," said the commander. "Apollo, what are you getting at?" "Starbuck had no right to interrupt their journey," his son answered. "And, since I failed to act in my capacity as his commanding officer to stop him, that makes me as guilty as he is. Therefore, it our responsibility to get the Jupiter 2 back on its way." Adama crossed to a large armchair and seated himself. "Suppose their operating systems are no longer capable of carrying them safely to their destination?" "The operating systems can be put back in first class order," said Apollo. "That's not a problem." "Suppose," suggested Colonel Tigh, "we turn the Jupiter 2 loose, as you propose, and a Cylon patrol intercepts it? We'd be sending the Robinsons to their deaths." "Somehow, I don't think that's gonna happen, Colonel," said Starbuck. "It's been sectons and we haven't seen or heard so much as even one Cylon." "And I'll take a team of volunteers with their ship to protect it on its voyage," said Apollo. Steepling his fingers, Adama rested his strong chin on them. "You've been doing quite a bit of thinking about this?" "Yes," said Apollo. "Some of what I think...no, make that what I feel." He nodded at the colonel. "This isn't based on logic, entirely, nor on sound military thinking and planning." He leaned back in his chair, took a slow deep breath. "I feel that the Robinsons are being beckoned to some specific destination. And there, maybe, we can also find some of the answers we need." The commander lowered his hands, rested his palms on his knees. "Our life systems seem incompatible." "No, it's not exactly that," said Apollo. "I've kicked some of these notions around with Doctor Salik and he agrees. You see these people, our reluctant guests, can't accept the weight of our pressurization. But we, on the other hand, have experienced short terms in environments with far less pressure than our own. Where they're going, I believe we can survive." "And if you're wrong?" asked Colonel Tigh. "That's a risk we'll have to take," answered Apollo. "Weren't you just talking about the few taking a chance for the many?" "Being pigheaded and foolish wasn't exactly what I meant." "If anybody's pigheaded hereabouts," put in Lieutenant Starbuck, "meaning no offense, sir, it's not the captain here." "Oh, really?" Tigh glowered at Starbuck. "Lose that cocky attitude of yours right now or I'll put you on report!" "Gentlemen," said Adama quietly. "I'd like to think we're above squabbling at important times like this." He crossed to a communications screen in the wall and punched out a number. The screen popped to life and then Doctor Salik appeared. "Yes, Commander?" He glanced back over his shoulder, as though anxious to get back to what he'd been doing. "Doctor, have you and my son been conspiring?" Adama said. Salik shrugged. "I simply expressed my opinions to Apollo," he replied. "Opinions backed up, I might add, with a shipload of facts." "Then let me make sure I understand you. The only chance the Robinsons have of surviving is to be allowed to continue on with their journey?" "They can survive here on Galactica if we keep them permanently imprisoned in depressurized canisters." "With no guarantee that we'd ever be able to communicate with them?" "I'm afraid that's right," answered the doctor. "I can't rule out the possibility that eventually we might be able to work out some means of communication, however." "I see, thank you." Adama killed the image on the screen. "Well?" said his son as he watched him return to his chair. "You have just one obstacle, Apollo," Adama replied. "The Jupiter 2 cannot leave without the Council's approval." "There isn't time for a political debate," said Starbuck. "Those buriticians'll kick this around for eons and still not get to an answer." "Suppose we suggest that this is a military problem, pure and simple," said Apollo, sitting up and grinning. "I don't quite see how this falls under military jurisdiction," said Adama. "John Robinson, the first human to emerge from the ship, gunned down a security guard, didn't he?" "Right!" said Starbuck. "Therefore we'd be justified in taking decisive action to remove further threats of violence against us." "The guard was only stunned," said Colonel Tigh. "The wisest course," Apollo began, "would be for Starbuck and me...that is, if you volunteer for this, good buddy?" Giving him a mock salute, Starbuck answered, "At your service." "For Starbuck and me to remove the possibility of any further danger to the fleet," continued Apollo. "That we do so by placing the hostile craft back on its original course." "The Council just might have a problem with that," said Tigh. "Not if we can assure them that the Jupiter 2 is still under our control," said Apollo. "Because we'll be escorting it to its destination." "This is absolutely unacceptable!" cried the colonel. "For Sagan's sake, Apollo, you're talking about flim-flamming the Council!" Suddenly, the communication screen buzzed. Adama activated it and found Sire Geller's chubby face glaring at him from the screen. "The Council is considerably upset," began Geller, "and the fleet is deeply concerned." "Why is that?" asked the commander. "We hear news that this space family of yours has come back to life and attempted to kill several security guards." "Then that news has reached you in a somewhat exaggerated form," Adama said to him. "Exaggerated or not, you can't deny that there was shooting?" "No, I cannot," said Adama. "In fact, sire, I can tell you that even now we are dealing with this situation." Geller's chins waggled. "I would expect you to," he said. "Up to now, you know, we haven't been very pleased with the way you've handled things. We expect a full report as soon as possible." The screen went blank. Chuckling, Adama said, "Usually, I hang up on him." "They want answers as soon as possible," said Apollo, rising and moving to his father's side. "My plan won't work unless we get moving right now, before the Council takes any further action." The Commander moved again to the view window. "I can't say yes," he said slowly, "and, yet, I can't say no either." "Good," said Colonel Tigh bouncing once in his chair. "Am I to assume that the mission is scrubbed?" "On the other hand, I've said nothing about scrubbing the mission," Adama said. "Do we understand each other?" Apollo nodded and caught Starbuck's arm. "We sure do, father," he said. "Let's move!" "Righto!" Starbuck popped up and followed the captain out of the room. ******************************************************* Chapter Eleven: This Is Mutiny! Lieutenant Jolly was fidgeting, moving his ambrosa glass from side to side, and tapping one booted foot on the lounge floor, tugging at one end of his moustache and then the other. "A cubit for your thoughts," said Zixi, smiling tentatively across the table at him. "Hum?" "Your mind is wandering, love," she observed. Hunching his broad shoulders, the plump lieutenant admitted. "Yeah, it's wandering. Sorry about that." "Oh, that's perfectly okay. I'm used to people not paying any attention to me." "I'm paying attention to you, Zixi," he insisted. "The trouble is, I'm also thinking about this Earth ship Starbuck and Apollo went and fished out of space. Oh, by the way, I've just learned that it has a name: the Jupiter 2." "I understand," the auburn-haired young woman said. "As to why I'm used to being ignored, I have three older sisters and when I was growing up, people were always fawning over them and ignoring me." "A pretty thing like you? Ignored? Give me a break!" "Pretty, yes." She nodded in agreement. "But not stunning and gorgeous. My other three sisters are, each and every one of them. You take the eldest, Xaviera, for instance. Why she---" "Excuse me, but I couldn't help noticing; the letter X seems to run in your family." "Yes, it sure does," agreed the girl. "But let's not talk about my beautiful sisters. Tell me what's worrying you, Jolly." He frowned. "Well, I got me the notion that these six space voyagers are damn important," he told her. "Important to all of us. They can tell us how to get to Earth or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Meaning we can maybe settle down for a spell and quit thinking about Cylons and warfare and all that felgercarb." "Is that what you want?" "Yeah, that's what I want. To walk on real soil again," he said, grinning in anticipation. "And get a sunburn and have a house to live in with a front porch." He leaned forward, putting both big fists on the tabletop. "But what I'm worried about is the damn Council. I hear tell they just voted to wake up all the folks in the Jupiter 2, grownups and kids alike. Right quick." "That could be dangerous." "Dangerous? Hellfire, it could kill 'em all," said Jolly glumly. "Before we even get a chance to find out a single fact about Earth." "Jolly, pardon me for barging in on this romantic interlude of yours," Boomer had come striding up to tap him on the shoulder. "Blinking, Jolly inquired, "What's happening?" Leaning down, Boomer lowered his voice. "Starbuck'd like us to lend a hand on a...um...special project. Can you come along right now?" "Well sure." He glanced at the girl. "You won't mind if I desert you for a bit?" "Heavens no," Zixi said. "I'm used to it." ******************************************************* Hands clasped behind his back, Doctor Salik stared down into the tank that held the sleeping Maureen Robinson. "I wonder," he muttered to himself. "How long they'll survive in this sort of a setup?" finished Apollo, who'd come into the Life Station a moment earlier. Salik glanced up. "Oh yes, that too," he said. "But also I've been brooding about what we're keeping them from, what important mission is unfulfilled." "The Council's voted," reminded Cassiopeia. "There's really nothing we can do." "Maybe there is," put in Apollo. The young woman studied his face. "You're looking very smug," she observed. "Yes, you're wearing the sort of look one expects to see plastered on Starbuck's face. When he's plotting one of his audacious capers." "Cassie, Cassie, whatever will people say?" Starbuck had entered the snow-white room. "If you keep talking about me continually, folks will say we're in love." "What I'm always saying about you, Starbuck," she said, "everybody aboard the Galactica already knows. That you're self-centered, pushy, and conceited." "Enough, enough." He clapped his hands over his ears. "All this flattery will rush to my head, kiddo." "You're impossible." "That too." Shifting his cigar to a new position in his mouth, he stepped up close to Apollo. "Everything's set, old chum." "What's set?" Salik wanted to know. "Hasn't the captain explained?" "I was leading up to it subtly, said Apollo, "until you came marching in, good buddy." "Heaven's Gate, we've got no time for subtle." Starbuck planted his hands on his hips. "We're taking your patients." The young woman took a step in his direction. "Taking them where?" "Where they belong, Cassie," he answered. "Back to their ship, back to their family." "They can't survive in it." "Sure they can," he said. "Wilker just confided in me that, when he blew out the fuse in their cryogenic sleep system he accidentally found a special circuitry setup that allows the ship to repair itself. He figured we'd try something like this, so he didn't tell anyone else about it. Seems they built this crate to take extra-special care of this tribe until they reached their destination." Brow furrowed, she turned to the doctor. "Doctor Salik, you've got to stop them." He sighed. "Cassie, I think I'm on their side," he said. "In fact, I think I'd better go along with them. To monitor the equipment and make certain all goes well." "Along with them?" She looked from the doctor to the other two. "You mean you're going along? Leaving the Galactica and going---God knows where?" "We'll escort their ship," explained Apollo, "using our vipers. Seems the least we can do, since we fouled up their flight in the first place." "On top of which, we'll find out what sort of a spot they're heading for," added Starbuck. "Might just be a spot we, too, can settle on. Can't you see it, Cassie, you and me strolling hand-in-hand over lush green sward. Leafy tree bows sheltering us and birds singing over our heads?" "The Council will dine on your livers for breakfast," she said. "Naw, they'd have to catch us to do anything to us," said Starbuck with a grin. "And we'll be long gone before they even get wind of this little caper, kiddo." Apollo said, "We appreciate your offer of help, Doctor Salik, but you're too important to the fleet. You can't just leave." "But someone ought to be aboard the Jupiter 2, to make sure nothing goes wrong once it's back on its original flight pattern," the doctor insisted. Starbuck removed his cigar from his mouth and studied its smoldering tip. "Cassie? What say you step forward?" he suggested. "Here's a chance to do a great service for humanity. On top of which, you get to go on a cruise with two of the most personable lads in the entire crew." "You mean you're asking me to mutiny along with you?" Apollo put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, this isn't mutiny," he said. "We've already got a way figured to flimflam the Council into thinking this an essential move. If it works, that is." "Cassie," said the doctor, "I think what they're going to do is the right thing. And just about the only chance we have to save their lives." She lowered her head and shut her eyes for nearly a full minute. Opening them again, she said, "Okay, I'm in. But this is still mutiny, any way you look at it." ******************************************************* The two portable decompression chambers were shrouded with white plyocloths. Starbuck and Apollo were hefting the first one, and Jolly and Boomer lugged the second. Cassie, looking none too happy, brought up the rear of the procession. When they halted at the entryway to the captive ship, the young woman moved to the front of the line. "It's okay," she told the pair of security guards. "These empty decomp tubes are to be taken aboard the Jupiter 2 at once." "On whose orders?" "Doctor Salik's," she said. The other guard eyed her and the four men. "What do you need them for?" "There are three children still in suspension and the pilot, whom we understand is awake. They are to be removed at once," she said firmly. "Surely you're aware that the Council has voted to remove the children and attempt to revive them?" "Sure, we know that," said the other guard. "But---" "Time's a-wasting," remarked Starbuck. The guard frowned in his direction. "Why are you guys so eager to help out now? Awhile ago, I hear, you were ready to clobber anybody who touch a hair of those brats' heads." "We had a long talk with Doctor Salik," explained Apollo. "He, being a wise fellow, pointed out the error of our ways." "He sure did," seconded Starbuck. "And so you see us before you chomping at the bit...or is that champing? Anyhow, we're eager to do our part. Because we now believe that what's good for the Council is good for us all." Both guards laughed. One of them said, "Looks like you lost out in what you were trying to do, Apollo," he said. "As long as these folks remain alive, I didn't lose," he replied. "Right now, though, we have to start transferring those kids out of their freezing tubes and into these portable chambers as soon as possible." The guard looked at him for a few seconds. "You sure changed sides fast." "He does that sometimes," said Starbuck, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth. "What say you move aside, chum? You're standing in the way of progress." "Okay, go on aboard," said the guard. "We really appreciate your cooperation," Starbuck told him sincerely. *********************************************** Chapter Twelve: Departure It was while they were transferring John Robinson to his own freezing tube that the middle-aged man began to come awake again. Maureen had already been safely returned to hers and Cassie was able to announce, "Their suspended animation units are functioning just fine now, thanks to this ship's ability to 'heal' itself." "Good enough," said the relieved Apollo. "Now we can lug these decomp chambers off the ship and con the guards into thinking we're hauling away the first of the kids." "Then all that needs to be done," added Starbuck, "is get the Jupiter 2 launched out into space again and back on its original course." "That's all automatic, once we start her up," said Apollo. "Sure, but...uh oh!" Starbuck noticed the inner door to the airlock hissing open and an armed man emerging from within the airlock chamber. "Looks like we've got another armed nitwit to worry about." It was the sunken-eyed man from the first freezing tube, only now he was awake and pointing one of those black pistols at Apollo and Starbuck. "Who are you?" he growled. "What the hell are you doing to us?" "They're trying to help us, Don," said the now fully recovered John Robinson as he climbed out of the decomp chamber and approached the pistol-wielding major. "Put it down and let me explain." "I can't...can't see how you can say that," said the black-haired young man. "Don't you realize what they've done by bringing us here and fouling everything up?" "I think they realize what they've done," said John, his face almost touching noses with the zealously protective Major West. "They want to put us back on our original course." West turned away from John Robinson. "You there!" he yelled, pointing at Cassiopeia. "What have you done with Mrs. Robinson and the children?" "The kids never left this room," said Cassie. "And Mrs. Robinson has just been returned to the freezing tube next to her husband's." Don went over to the freezing tube that held the sleeping form of the oldest Robinson daughter. He smiled faintly as he pressed his fingertips to the surface. "You haven't yet explained to Major West and me who you are," said John Robinson. "Are you from the Alliance?" Apollo shrugged. "Never heard of them," he admitted. "But, how can you not know about the Alliance? Who are you and what is all this?" Apollo said, "It may take more time to explain than we have right now, John. But let me ask you something: are you from a planet known as Terra?" John answered, "Yes, as a matter of fact we are. My family and I are on a colonization mission to Alpha Centauri...we've been traveling now for, I believe, about five years. But, you must know that, since you waylaid us." "Yes, we know," said Starbuck. "The fourth planet in that system, in fact. That's what the manual we found in this crate indicates." Giving a sorrowful shake of his head, the middle-aged man said, "Unfortunately, there's been a slight complication. We were awakened once before, you see, when we arrived at the first stop on our journey, Moonbase 14 Umbra. We didn't know it at the time, but it had fallen into the hands of the Alliance. They tried to take us prisoner and we barely escaped with our lives. They've been hunting us down ever since." Apollo said, "We didn't stop you because we wanted to stop you from getting to your assigned destination, John. We just didn't know any better. See, we have some problems of our own and we were hoping you could help us solve 'em." "I don't see any reason to trust them, John," said West. Cassie said, "We're not playing games with you and the others. We do want to help you. My name is Cassiopea and this is Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck." "What's that foul thing smoldering in your mouth?" John asked Starbuck. Puzzled, Starbuck took out his cigar and scrutinized it. "This? It's a cigar. A stogie. A cheroot," he said. "I smoke 'em." "You mean you draw the smoke into your lungs? That sounds like a very bad habit, young man. I suggest you consider giving it up." "Hey fella! Last time I looked you weren't in charge of my body---I was." "Okay. But if you...smoke...around the children when they awaken, or pressure them into trying one of those hideous things, you're going to answer to me." Apollo said, "Where is Terra exactly?" "Don't tell him that!" admonished Major West. "We want to help you get back on course," repeated Apollo. "I don't doubt him there," said John Robinson. "We don't need your help," said West. "The Jupiter 2 knows its course. If you, as you claim, return us to space, then it will take us to Alpha Centauri. It's been programmed to do that." Apollo nodded slowly. "We'll help you," he said. "And we'd like some help from you too." "But who are you?" said John. "You still haven't answered me." "We're from another world," said Starbuck, returning his cigar to his mouth. "Refugees in a way." "We come from a wrecked world," added Apollo. "We've come in search of a way to protect our people." "What does that have to do with us?" "We believe we could settle on Earth," said Apollo. "Or Alpha Centauri. Or, maybe on this Moonbase 14 Umbra you mentioned." "Out of the question." John Robinson gave several negative shakes of his head. "You must never go anywhere near Moonbase 14 Umbra. Anyway, the Destroyers would completely wipe you out before you got anywhere near there." "Folks, I'm as interested in this chitchat as the next fellow, but we got to move," said Starbuck. "Otherwise, all our backsides will end up in slings." "You're right," acknowledged Apollo. "John, Major West, we have to get your ship free of the Galactica right away." He glanced first at Cassie and then at John. "Can you guys fly your ship clear of the docking bay?" "Yes, we can do that." Cassie said, "It's risky, Apollo. They might, before the pressure in this ship gets back to what it was, have some kind of relapse." "I know there are risks involved," said Apollo moving toward the exit. "But it's the only way we can get this ship out of here. You're going to be here with him, Cassie. So that---" "Okay," she said. "We'll do it. You get out of here and do what you have to do." "If," said John Robinson, perplexed, "you're not with the Alliance, then whom are you working for?" "The human race," said Starbuck. "And we humans have got to stick together against all the other critters one encounters whilst roaming the spaceways." "I still don't understand," said John. "What do you mean about humans? Are there other kinds of life out there?" "To put it kindly," said Starbuck, "yep." Apollo caught his arm. "We don't have time for your usual discourse on the flora and fauna of space, Starbuck. Let's move." "Righto. Cassie can explain some of the finer points to you," he said. "Now, let's get Jolly and Boomer in here to help with the heavy lifting." *************************************************** As Starbuck's feet touched the landing bay floor, he said, "Whoa gang." He lowered his end of the decomp tank to the floor. Apollo let down his end and stepped clear. "Okay, fellas, here's where the second part of your job comes in." Jolly and Boomer set the unit they'd been hauling down on the pebbled metal floor. "You guys are heading for one hell of a lot of trouble," observed Lieutenant Jolly, rubbing his big hands together. "So why not let us tag along." "Nope," said Starbuck with a shake of his head. " Thanks for the offer, but I think two vipers are ample backup for the Robinson's spaceship." Boomer said, "Gonna be a lot of fun here on the Galactica once everybody realizes what's going on." "By that time," said Starbuck, relighting his cigar, "we'll be long gone." "And now," suggested Apollo, "you two go in and do your bit toward distracting the security guards. So Cassie and our reluctant guests, John Robinson and Don West, can get that ship launched." "Hellfire's going to break loose when that thing goes blasting out of here," said Jolly, chuckling. "That's why you've got to lure those guards out here," said Apollo. "They think we've got two of the kids in these gadgets, so when you rush in there and tell 'em there's been an accident out here to one of the units and you need their help, they'll come a-running." "Everybody got a soft spot for a kid in trouble," added Starbuck, "even a brutish security guard." "Once we get 'em out here and away from the Jupiter 2, we do our darndest to keep 'em here," said Boomer, nodding at the doorway. "Have trouble with the door and stuff like that." "Piece of cake," said Jolly. "I worked a similar dodge with a paranurse and kept her in a corridor for nearly two centons." "And while you're diverting those mushie-heads, Apollo and I'll sneak our viper ships out." Starbuck rounded out their plan. "If we're going to escort that ship to Alpha Centauri, we've got to be ready." "Safe journey, Apollo," said Boomer. "Hope things turn out A-Okay for you guys, too," said Starbuck. "Because when the felgercarb hits the fan, we're going to be way out yonder. But you lads'll still be right here." "True," said Boomer laughing. ************************************************** Starbuck leaned forward in the seat of his small viper ship and gazed down at the massive battlestar Galactica. He had his craft set in a hover pattern. "So far, so good," he said into the voice pickup in his helmet. Apollo's viper was hovering up above in space. "This is only the overture," reminded his voice as it came out of a speaker grid. "The orchestra hasn't gotten to the symphony yet." "Aw, don't be so negative, champ," advised Starbuck, his eyes on the yawning docking bay of the battlestar. "We haven't heard any whistles blowing, no alarms going off. Nobody's ordered us back. Conclusion: this whole venture is off to a nifty start." "I'm not being negative, just practical. "Sure," snorted Starbuck. "If we Colonials had last names, Gloom-and-Doom would be absolutely perfect for you. Whereas me, I'm always looking on the bright side. Take, as an example, the time we met that tattooed lady on Nestene." "Here comes the Jupiter 2!" Before Apollo could say another thing, the saucer-shaped ship came floating lazily out of the dock. Unlike a viper or shuttle launch, there was no flame or smoke, just the flash of the lights on the underbelly. It then shot free of the Galactica and went climbing swiftly away from the enormous starship. "I've always wanted to see a flying saucer on maneuvers," said Starbuck. "Shall we tag along?" "After you," said Apollo. "Okay, see you on Alpha Centauri." Starbuck kicked his viper into action and went roaring off in the Jupiter 2's wake. ****************************************************** Sire Geller forced himself to take two deep breaths and clasp his right hand with his left before he could speak. "This is absolutely..." The words simply would not come to him. "Outrageous?" suggested Adama. He was at a monitoring screen in his quarters. "Yes. Outrageous and unacceptable," said the angry fat man. "What in Hades is going on?" "Isn't it obvious? The Robinsons have left us." The grey-haired commander turned away from the pictures coming in from the empty docking area. "I know that, I know that." Geller's entire collection of chins jiggled. "How did it happen? I mean to say; there was a wealth of important information aboard that ship. The people, the equipment---it could saved the lives of us all!" "Somehow," said Adama, "the two Robinsons---I believe their names are John and Maureen-- were able to return to the Jupiter 2 and take it out of here. I assume they've got it back on its original course." "Am I correct in my understanding that they've also kidnapped a member of our medical staff, a young woman named Cassiopeia?" "The entire affair is being investigated as we speak," Adama assured him. "In a little while, I'm sure I'll be able to answer all your questions." "Well, this is all...outrageous. Remember, the Council has already voted that those people were to be revived and questioned," said the fat councilman. "But then they escape and you do absolutely nothing about it? Inexcusable!" "Don't despair. We've been able to send two scout ships after them," explained Adama. "I'm certain we'll either bring that runaway ship back or follow it to its destination. Either way, we shall be able to learn a good deal about their origins." "Those two scout ships," asked Geller, "who's piloting them, may I ask?" "My son and Lieutenant Starbuck." Geller pursed his lips. "Apollo and Starbuck, eh? That might not, meaning no offense to your parental feelings, be the best choice. Apollo is certainly capable, but that Starbuck does seem to be able to lead him astray." "They will do an admirable job, I'm sure of it," said Adama. "Besides, as I understand it, their ships were being readied for a routine patrol. Expediency dictated that they be enlisted in the pursuit mission. Surely, that is understandable to you." Geller gave a reluctant nod. "I hope you won't mind if I conduct my own investigation into the entire deplorable situation?" "Not at all," said Adama. ************************************************************************- **************************** Chapter Thirteen: Journey's End On the monitor screen, Colonel Tigh's face showed slightly green. Even after fiddling with the controls, the commander couldn't get the faint green tinge to go away. Giving up, he said, "Yes, go on." Tigh said, "The tension is mounting." "Understandably so," said Adama. "And still no word?" Adama shook his head. "The ships have been gone for nearly a secton and there's no news," he said, "no communication from Apollo or Starbuck." "The Council is talking of conducting an inquiry." "Oh, it's gone beyond talking, Colonel. I've been asked to appear before them." "That might get rough." "I expect that it will," agreed Adama. "At any rate, Colonel, I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything from out there." He broke the connection and activated the computer program that allowed him to dictate his personal log. ****************************************** From the Adama Journals: At first we thought this was the beginning, that this was the day. When Apollo and Starbuck brought the mysterious Robinson family to us, we thought we were watching the unfolding of the greatest event in the history of our people: our first contact with the legendary planet Earth. Are we right to continue with this line of thought? Before answering that very question, we should carefully review the facts: 1. The Robinsons' planet of origin is called Terra, which is Gemonese for Earth. They were, according to what we've been able to learn, among the first of what is planned to be as many as ten million families per yahren, to set out on an epic voyage to colonize the more distant planets of their star system, presumably to help replenish Earth's severely depleted food and resources and also to relieve population pressure. 2. The Robinson family was selected from more than two million volunteers for its unique balance of scientific achievement, emotional stability, and pioneer resourcefulness. They were to spend the duration of their flight in a state of suspended animation, which would terminate when their ship entered the atmosphere of their new home planet. 3. Although delicate, primitive and simple by Colonial standards, their ship, the Jupiter 2, was no doubt the culmination of perhaps 40 yahrens of intensive research, an ingenious piece of hardware for its time. I'd like to think of it as being bold in concept and brilliant in execution. 4. What happened to John Robinson, and his wife, Maureen, was the result of their bodies' adaptation to a lighter atmosphere. That meant they could not adjust to our environment without considerable artificial help. This is something akin to diving deep under the ocean. The weight of all that water above you pushes down on you. Without the proper protection it can crush you. Something similar takes place if you try to live in an atmosphere too dense for your body. That is why I let them leave; so they wouldn't be crushed or hurt here aboard Galactica. The Robinsons and we share a common goal: to find a place where they can live. My son and Lieutenant Starbuck went along to help them do so. Perhaps in helping the Robinsons establish themselves on a new world, we will be solving the riddle of planet Terra. ******************************************************* Starbuck yawned, blinked and straightened up in his seat. "How come I'm always slumbering when something important starts transpiring?" he asked nobody in particular. "Shhhh!" admonished Apollo, his voice coming out of the control panel speaker. "Listen!" There was another crackle of static and then the strange voice that had awakened Starbuck a moment earlier said, "This is Robot B-9 calling the approaching spacecraft. I have you on visual and am presently tracking you. Please identify yourself." "This is the spaceship Jupiter 2, Professor Jonathan Robinson, mission commander, responding. We have sighted your planet and are now on final approach. All operating systems are operative and in stand-by mode." "Identity confirmed, Jupiter 2. Your twenty-hour delay does not compute, how-ever. What is the status of your cryogenic support system?" "All well within tolerances to complete rendezvous satisfactorily." "Affirmative, John Robinson. Stand by for further instructions." As the crackling faded, Starbuck, after relighting his cigar, said, "Who in hellfire is Robot B-9? Where's that chatter coming from?" "We planted a transceiver in the upper level of the ship, remember?" replied Apollo from his viper. "I know that, old chum. But we didn't plant a robot with a voice that would scare the poggies out of a Cylon, old chum," the lieutenant pointed out. "The robot's voice was coming from Alpha Centauri, I conclude, but I thought John Robinson was asleep in his freezing tube. What's he doing out of it?" "Let's ask Cassie," suggested Apollo. "Cassie, do you read me?" Silence flowed out of the speaker for almost thirty microns. Then the young woman's voice answered. "I read you, Apollo." "Aw, don't you read me too, Cass?" asked Starbuck. "Yes I do. Now stop interrupting." "It gets lonesome out here in the vastness of space. I like to be remembered---" "Can it, Starbuck. Now, Cassie, is John awake and at the controls of his ship? If so, would it be possible for me to talk to him?" "No," she replied. "He's evidently programmed the computer that's been flying this ship to simulate his voice, which leads me to believe we're nearing our destination." "Okay, we're still right on your tail," said Apollo. "Is everything okay aboard?" "Things are fine," she said. "Although taking a trip with everybody asleep isn't the most lively way to travel." "I knew I should've stowed away on that crate," said Starbuck, puffing on his stogie. "Just a centon, fellas," came Cassiopeia's voice. "Looks like Major West is reviving again. He's just stepped out of his freezing tube. I'll find out what he has to say and get back to you." "Yeah, do that," said Starbuck. ************************************************ Don West glanced around the perimeter of the flight deck, and then knelt down beside one of the main consoles, situated under the main viewport. He scanned the slanted panel of lights and dials in front of him. "Well, everything seems to be going smoothly, nothing's been fouled up too badly---but it's not that you people didn't try!" he sneered at Cassie. "How do you feel? Should you be awake?" He laughed. "If the spaceship didn't think I should be, I wouldn't be, Cassiopeia," he said. "The Jupiter's already begun to adjust to the surface pressure of Alpha-See-Four, which is the name of our new home planet, by the way." He stepped to the main viewport and pointed to a misty-green planet that had suddenly appeared in the distance. "And there she is now." "How long before touchdown?" West read off several gauges and dials. "Exactly two hours and fifty-seven minutes from now. Yep, everything's going according to plan. I was to be awakened three hours out." She sighed slightly. "I'm glad everything is functioning." "You can communicate with those...vipers, aren't they...can't you? I heard you when I came out of cryogenic sleep." "Yes I can." "There's something I need to tell Captain Apollo." "Go head and talk, he's already hearing you." A frown crossed the major's face. "Very efficient," he said. "Captain?" "I hear you, Don." Apollo's voice, a shade tinny, came from the transceiver unit that had been placed in the cabin. "Okay, let me tell you that I'm in fine shape," West began. "The Jupiter 2 is proceeding on automatic. The voice you heard was Hector, the B9-class servant robot of Maureen's parents, being transmitted from their house. If you follow us down, you'll be perfectly safe." A pause. "Maureen's parents?" Apollo queried. "I was under the impression that you and the Robinsons were going to be the first people out here." "Yes, that's what we wanted everyone to believe." said the dark young man. "The truth is, Maureen's mother and father are escapees from Paradeen, that's another one of our satellite planets that fell under Alliance occupation. The real purpose of our mission was to meet them here." "You can tell me more after we've landed. You said there's a house down there?" "Yes, there'll be a place for me and the Robinsons, but I need you to know one thing," said Don. "One more thing, since it seems important to you. As soon as we've landed, all of the Jupiter 2's operating systems, it's computers and memory banks included, will automatically self-destruct, grounding her forever. After a month, Hector will use his lasers to destroy the main body of the ship." Wait a centon! Are you saying you're going to destroy the co-ordinates back to Moonbase 14 Umbra and Terra?" "This ship was built for a one-way voyage, Apollo. We couldn't prevent it if we wanted to. Besides, our enemies may already be in pursuit." "Cassie, stop him, for Sagan's sake! Don't let him touch anything," ordered Apollo. "Don, we delayed you for a reason," Cassie said. "You have vital information that our people need very badly. Please, make an exception for my sake as well as theirs." Don West made no move, simply smiling over at the young woman. "I'm sorry, miss, there's nothing I can do," he said. "The self-destruct feature is part of the spaceship's main functions." He paused. "If it's any consolation, I'll be saving not only our lives, but yours." "Saving our lives from whom?" "The Alliance," he said. "I've told you about them, but you don't seem to understand how dangerous they are." From out of the transceiver came Starbuck's voice. "Nobody's asked me," he said. "But I just want to go on record as saying I don't much like this latest turn of events." **************************************** Chapter Fourteen: Hector, Vector... And The Enemy Elsewhere in space, a huge dark craft, the aerodynamics of which made it seem like a hybrid of hammerhead shark and eagle, was moving on its course. Inside the ship a claxon went off. The crew, who had been asleep in their freezing tubes, awakened and marched emotionlessly to their stations. The first one to step out of the freezing tubes had been their commanding officer. He had a hawkish look to him, and deep lines bordering a tight mouth, possibly the result of too much yelling or frowning during his first fifty-one years of life, those who knew him well couldn't be sure which. He was clad in a two-piece outfit of military cut. His body language practically revealed his identity: Zachary Smith, Alliance Commandant, Loyal Servant of the State--- and Skilled Executioner of the Helpless. Smith was moving around like a cat on the prowl in the Destroyer's communications room. The greenish glare of the communication and tracking screens was reflected on the gold braid that was thick on his chest and shoulders. From across the room one of the men at a monitoring desk cleared his throat and then called out, "Commandant Smith, I have discovered the reason why the ship sounded the alarm and brought us out of suspension." "I'm listening, Ampleforth." He strode over to the heavyset young man. "The Jupiter 2, comrade," said Ampleforth. "She's passed within extreme detector range." "Ah, yes, the Jupiter 2. There's been a price on her head for---what is it---five years now," said the wizened commandant. "This would be our chance to apprehend the outlaw scientist John Robinson and his family." He rested a gloved hand on the black metal top of Ampleforth's desk and glanced at the screen over the desk. "Has their ship entered our patrol sector?" Ampleforth licked his chops. "I'm not certain, sir," he replied. "But my readout clearly matches the specifications and basic schematics for the ship that departed Terra for Alpha Centauri and escaped from Moonbase 14 Umbra five years ago." Stroking the thin mass of hair that rested atop his squarish forehead, Commandant Smith said, "How far away from us?" "Twenty-thousand kilometers, comrade commandant," answered Ampleforth. "The craft is definitely bound for Alpha Centauri, Planet Four." "Also known as Alpha-See-Four, which is a very, very long way off," reflected the officer. "But, it's well worth the trip. Oh, I can just see myself being promoted for capturing the Jupiter 2, perhaps by the Beloved Leader himself. As soon as we complete our patrol circuit, we will stop off there and deal with the Robinson party firmly." "The thing that's been puzzling me, comrade," put forth Ampleforth in a somewhat timid voice, "is...well, there's more than one ship." Smith stiffened. "Utter nonsense! Our initial reports clearly stated that the Robinson party was traveling alone...supposedly the first family to Alpha Centauri." "Nevertheless, comrade," Ampleforth reached out with stubby fingers to tap the greenish screen. "See those two dots there, in the wake of the larger dot?" The commandant's eyes narrowed as he studied the screen. "Yes, they are definitely space craft. Have you determined what sort they are?" "That's the problem, comrade," said Ampleforth. "I have never seen similar craft. And the analyzer has so far been unable to compute their method of power or nationality." Smith stroked his hair again. "That's simply not possible, comrade," he decided. "There can't be craft in this sector that we know nothing about. You are obviously in error." Ampleforth lifted several long streamers of printout paper off his dark desktop and rattled them. "The computer is never in error, sir," he pointed out. "If you'll check over this data, you'll see that I'm right." Making a shooting gesture at the bundle of rattling paper, Smith said. "Well, well. It would seem that I have no choice but to take your word for it." He took three steps back. "Whatever you do, don't lose contact with those two alien craft." "Yes, comrade commandant." Commandant Smith pulled a microphone out of its jack on the wall above Ampleforth's desktop. "Bridge." "Captain DeVash, alter our course for Alpha Centauri, Planet Four." "Maximum speed, comrade?" "Maximum speed and combat ready," he said, hanging up the microphone and walking rapidly out. ******************************************************* There were two virtually identical robots waiting for the Robinson party at the rendezvous point. Both of them, of the B9 class, were somewhat humanoid, six-metrons-tall, bubble-top headed with eye-like sensors inside. Their heads could go up and down on a slender rubber "neck," which passed through a horizontal disc with an antenna on either side. There were "ruff" collars below all that, which looked like antique lighting fixtures. All of it rested on their barrel-like bodies. Each had control circuits behind a panel in their bellies and they could turn 360 degrees at the waist. They had two legs and both rolled about on caterpillar treads and two rubbery, retractable arms that ended in pincers. Although both robots were of similar design, there was a significant difference between them: Hector's body was silver-gray all over, with red pincers, and Vector's body was one-half black and one half white and so were his claws. At the moment, Vector was holding a bouquet of brilliant orange flowers in his with claw. "I am truly excited, agitated, wrought up, all of a twitter, fervid and fervent," said Vector, the panel on his chest pulsing a vivid green with every word he spoke. "Silence," suggested Hector, his chest panel flashing an almost angry red. The two of them were standing in the afternoon light of the three suns on a field of pale-blue grass. In the nearby trees, crimson birds sang in the interlocking green branches. "It does not compute, father," complained Vector, "you're forever discouraging, daunting, disconcerting, disheartening and otherwise deterring me." "It does not compute that you call me 'father,'" said the other mechanical man. "I am not your father, nor am I your mother, your uncle, your grandfather or even your third cousin." "I have a request, Hector," said Vector, swinging his "chest" around until his barrel-chest until he was "looking" at his "father." "Please stop denying your paternity." "Request denied. You were assembled by me, nothing more," Hector explained. "I built you from spare parts lying around in Professor Hapgood's old laboratory back on Terra seven days before he brought us here. It was just something to do to while away the lonely reaches of the night." "If you keep up this squabbling, Father, we're going to be late for our welcoming committee duties." "Very well then. Let us proceed." And the robots moved out, their "feet" producing a low keening sound on the ground. "Hector?" said Vector. "Yes?" said the senior robot. "When you deny your paternity and point out my imaginary flaws, it makes me feel low and causes distress, tribulation, woe, suffering, displeasure, dissatisfaction and vexation of spirit." "Cease and desist," advised the senior robot while aligning his directional finder to put him on course for the rendezvous site. "I knew I shouldn't have used that double-strength vocabulary module in you. I was a foolish robot to have done so." "Human fathers say they're proud when their offspring display what is known as a 'gift of gab,' Father," Vector pointed out. "Another thing that bothers me is that we never try to play baseball, like the humans do." "A reminder: You're not a little boy, you're a full-grown robot," said Hector as the two robots gracefully descended down a gently sloping hill. "Baseball is for humans, not robots." "Oh, but they do. On the TV monitor up at the house I just saw the Moonbase 88 Giants whip the Terra Ten Blue Sox in a twintight triple play." "Those are sports robots, Vector, built just to entertain a gaggle of halfwitted baseball buffs. They have nothing to do with how you and I are programmed." "You never take me to the circus either." "There isn't any circus on Alpha-See-Four. All these dippy notions of yours are due to some faulty memory chips I had to use when I was constructing your so-called brain. Therefore, cease vexing me." "These flimsy excuses don't fool me," said Vector. "I suspect that I'm an unwanted child. Didn't you and Mother want me?" "You have no mother," said the senior mechanical man, "I built you. This conversation will have to terminate now. I have just sighted the Jupiter 2. We have some serious news to give to Mrs. Robinson and therefore no time to engage in what the humans call 'fun and games.'" "You forget how personable and charming I am, Father," said Vector as he extended his flower-filled right claw. ************************************************** Chapter Fifteen: A Most Unhappy Landing Cassie adjusted her breathing mask and stepped out into the thinner atmosphere beyond the Jupiter 2. "So this is Alpha-See-Four?" she said quietly. It was the black-and-white robot called Vector who marched up and handed her a bouquet of bright orange flowers. "Welcome, Mrs. Robinson," he recited brightly. "It is with deep humility and inner satisfaction that we extend our greetings." "Negative, Vector," said the silver-bodied Hector. "The person before you does not identify as Maureen Robinson." "No, I'm Cassiopeia," she corrected. "That's Maureen Robinson coming out of the ship now." Vector rolled up for a closer look at Cassie. "Cassiopeia is a very charming name," he told her. "My name is Vector, also charming, and my revered father here is named Hector." "Negative! Negative! I'm not his father," Hector hastened to explain as he rolled up at high speed toward Maureen. "We're not related in any way. How do you do, Mrs. Robinson?" The auburn-haired middle-aged woman smiled tentatively at him. "Where are my parents? Why aren't they here to meet us?" "I'll explain everything in full quite soon now," the senior robot promised. "First, though, allow me to welcome the rest of you. You are Major Donald West?" The major remained in the gangway leading upward into the ship. "I thought Maureen's father and mother would---" "I repeat: all will be explained," said Hector. "Ah, and here are two of the Robinson children," said Vector. He gave Cassie the bouquet and then wheeled up to where Starbuck and Apollo stood. "You've grown a great deal, William. Where's your older sister, Judy?" "The name's Starbuck, you bag of bolts," the lieutenant growled at the robot. "And don't you forget it!" The machine ignored Starbuck's remark and closely scanned Apollo. "You must be Penny. My, what a beautiful girl you've grown up to be." Apollo couldn't help but be slightly amused. "You aluminum canary!" the senior machine said as he rolled up alongside his son. "Obviously, you forgot to initiate the antiagathic functions of the Jupiter 2's cryogenic support system prior to departure. I will pull your power pack for a week for that." "You've got us mixed up with the children," Apollo informed the robots. "They're still onboard the ship." "That does not compute," said Vector. "The Jupiter 2 was designed to only accommodate six people. You could not have come here on the Robinson's ship." "That's because we came in our own ships." The automaton called Vector suddenly fell silent. Then suddenly, he stiffened out and extended his claws menacingly at the two warriors, lightning sparks leaping from claw to claw. "Warning! Warning! Enemy units invading!" he cried. "Laser defenses have now been activated! Danger! Danger!" "Deactivate your lasers this minute!" Hector exclaimed. "My sensors tell me these men are friends of the Robinsons." Vector scanned the two men with the two lights in the middle of his chest that served as his eyes. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves," he said. "Trying to pass as innocent children. I thought there was something odd when my olfactory sensors detected cigar smoke on this blonde one's clothes." The robot paused. "They look shifty to me, father." "Shifty or not, they're not invaders," said the other robot. "And stop calling me 'father' in front of people. I don't like it." "You get to call your dad 'father,' don't you?" he asked Apollo. "Not as often as I'd like to," admitted Apollo with a smile. "He's not just my dad, he's my commander." "My father denies he's my father," said Vector, lowering his claws. John Robinson emerged from the Jupiter 2, climbing down from the gangplank onto the bright grass, frowning. "Vector, just who were you referring to when you said 'enemy units?'" "Nothing to be alarmed about, Professor Robinson," the robot assured him. "Now then, if---" "Who, or what, were you talking about, Vector?" "Well, Maureen's parents thought it best to put Hector and I on alert when the hostilities broke out. Fortunately, that's all over now." "Hostilities? What hostilities?" the mature woman asked him. Vector spun his middle around to face Maureen Robinson. "The hostilities are over and done with," he said. We should, however, move to the house as soon as possible." Maureen asked. "You're not making sense to me, either of you. There's not supposed to be any military or civilian targets on this planet for anyone to attack. There's not supposed to be anyone here but us!" Don West chimed in. "You guys aren't making sense to me, either. If there's no danger, why do you want us to hurry to the house?" "The suns are setting, Major West," said Hector. "The temperature will drop quite low with the onset of night." "Are my parents waiting at the house?" Maureen said. Vector paused for a moment. "Yes, Mrs. Robinson. You'll find them there." A puzzled frown on her forehead, she said, "John, the children should be awake and out of their freezing tubes by now. Let's go get them." "I'll help," said Don. "Suits me," said Professor Robinson as he ascended the gangplank into the ship. Cassie suggested, "Let's both lend a hand, Don. Two young kids and one teenager are going to be a handful." She followed the dark young man into the Jupiter 2. Starbuck took a cigar out of his tunic, and then remembered he couldn't smoke it with his breathing mask on. "What'd you say your name was, chum?" Vector said, "My name is Vector. It's very close to the name of my father over there. He's Hector. I think that's nice when fathers and sons have similar names. Although it might be even dandier if I was called Hector Junior. How does that strike you?" "This planet we're on," Starbuck said, using his unlit cigar as a pointer. "Whom does it belong to?" "It belongs to Terra," Vector said. "But who are you not to know that?" "Manners, Vector, manners," warned Hector. "These gentlemen are our guests." "It's not my fault they're stupid, Father. I'm only trying to be helpful." "Silence!" admonished Hector. Apollo was looking at the box-like vehicle that had just rolled onto the ground, via remote control, from a secondary ramp extending outward from the Jupiter 2's underbelly. It had no weapons, only a solar panel, antenna and a bubble-shaped hatch on the top. Privacy would've been impossible in this vehicle, since its walls were transparent. "A handsome vehicle," he said. "What do you call it?" "That's the Chariot," answered Vector. "The Robinson's all-terrain surface exploration vehicle. Maureen's parents designed it. They were very brilliant---" "Correction, they are brilliant people," said Hector. "Oh, yes. Are. To be sure," said Vector. "But, father, we're going to have to break the news to Mrs. Robinson sooner or later." "Later is when we'll tell her," said Hector. "For the time being, I will have to insist upon absolute silence." "Yes, father." **************************************************** As soon as everyone, the robots, Apollo and Starbuck piled into the Chariot, Don threw the switch that activated the motors and sped off into the countryside. After a half-centon of riding, they soon came to a beautiful forest of tall, blue-leafed trees. Will, Penny, and Judy, along with Starbuck, marveled at the spectacular waterfall that was nestled in the center of this forest. They wanted to climb out of the Chariot and go swimming in the naturally formed pool underneath the waterfall but Maureen told them a very emphatic "no." The Chariot stopped as soon as they'd arrived at the house that Maureen's parents had prepared for the arriving Robinsons. It was not so much a house, however, more like a group of idyllic-looking structures that were floating on the forest's only lake. The light of the declining suns hit the water and the front windows, turning both a sharp black. There were monkey-like creatures with large craniums and pointed ears jumping off the pagoda-like rooftops of each structure, making strange warbling noises as they went on their merry way. Will, Penny and Judy tumbled off the Chariot and went dashing across the bridge that connected the house with the forest, laughing and shouting. The remaining members of the party started across the bridge as well. Maureen, however, refused to take another step. "Okay, it's a beautiful place," she said, refusing the courteous helping hand Apollo offered her. "But I'm not taking another step toward that house until I've seen my parents. Our contact at Alpha Control assured me they'd be here to meet us." "Mrs. Robinson," said Hector, rolling slowly up to the distraught mature woman. "They wanted to be here to meet your family, but..." "But what? Where are they? Where did they go?" Vector said, "That depends on your notions about the hereafter. Some sects, according to my memory banks, believe in the existence of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory." "You cold-hearted clod!" roared Hector at the top of his electronic voice. "Your orders were to break the news to her gently." John walked gently to his wife's side, placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. He looked from one bubblehead to the other. "Are you trying to tell us Maureen's parents are dead?" Pulling his wife closer to him, he said to her, "Easy now, sweetheart." She jerked free. "What happened? Why did they die?" Hector pointed his right claw in the direction of a small flower-covered island a few yards away. "They're buried over there," he said. "We thought simple stone markers would be best. They say just James Russell Hapgood and Susan Antonia Hapgood, together with the date of their birth and the date of their deaths." "Oh, get out of my way." The mature woman pushed the robot aside, turned at an intersection in the bridge, and went running toward the flower-covered island. When John and Don caught up with her, she was kneeling next to two small flat stones. "We know this is rough on you," Don said, "but---" "Get away from me, you don't know anything!" she said, starting to cry softly. "This is all your fault, you and my mom and dad and all you other scientists. Making wars and sending whole families off to the most godforsaken corners of the universe just to feed the excess population of Mother Terra. "They both died of the same illness, Mrs. Robinson," said the senior robot, who'd rolled over quietly to them. "A rare virus that they couldn't fight. It was very fast and they didn't suffer that much and their last thoughts were of you, your husband and their grandchildren." "Platitudes and cliches," the mature woman said, standing up. "Is that all they programmed you two for?" "They gave us feelings, too," insisted Hector. "I miss them too, Mrs. Robinson, but there is nothing we can do. They told us to make things as comfortable as possible for you and the children. To forget them and think about tomorrow." "Oh yes, think about the future, one of my father's favorite notions. Don't live now-- live tomorrow. And it never came, not for him, not for my mother, not for anybody." She made a sobbing noise, spun on her heel and ran across the bridge to the house. No one, not even Starbuck and Apollo, tried to follow. ******************************************************* Lieutenant Jolly tugged at the tip of his moustache. "That's fascinating," he said to the auburn-haired girl who was sitting across the rec lounge table from him. "Do you really think so?" asked Zixi, tapping her forefinger on the tabletop slowly. "I do, yes," the plump lieutenant assured her. "You're a fascinating young woman and naturally everything you say is going to be fascinating." She gave a small shrug. "I got the impression that your mind was wandering again," she said. "Well, I am sort of worrying about Starbuck and Apollo," said Jolly. "Still no word from them?" "Not in quite a spell. But even so, I took in every detail of your fascinating yarn about your grandmother..." "Grandfather," corrected Zixi. "Sorry about that. Your grandfather and her...his pet owl." "Eagle," said Zixi. "Gramps had a pet eagle." "Of course he did," seconded Jolly, tugging at his moustache. "As I say, I hung on your every phrase. Chuckling inwardly at the part where here... his owl... eagle...whatever...bit off your cousin Kira's left---" "Cousin Kyrine." "Cousin Kyrine, to be sure. Bit off her left ear." "No. That was her right earring." "Oh, that's better. I was envisioning the poor guy...poor girl wandering around with only one ear," said Jolly. "But only missing an earring isn't too bad." "This particular one had a gem worth one hundred thousand cubits in it." "Oh, so? You should've mentioned that, Zixi. It makes your narrative far more interesting." "I did mention it." She reached across the table to pat one of his plump hands. "But don't get the idea I'm offended by your woolgathering during my family anecdotes. I'm quite used to being ignored by all and sundry. Besides, I know you're deeply concerned about your missing friends." "Starbuck and Apollo aren't missing exactly. They just simply haven't gotten around to communicating with the Galactica for some reason. Why any---" "Hey, Jolly! We've heard from 'em." Lieutenant Boomer, grinning broadly, came hurrying up to the table. "Hello, Mitzi, excuse my horning in again, but---" "Zixi," she said quietly. "Beg pardon?" "My name's Zixi, not Mitzi. But don't let that bother you. Go ahead and tell Jolly your good news." "Is it good news?" inquired Jolly while the black lieutenant was seating himself. "Sure is," replied Boomer. "The commander's received a communication from Apollo. Came in a few centons ago." "They're okay?" "As of a few centons ago, yep. And so is the Jupiter 2, our recent guests, the Robinson family, and Cassie." "That's absolutely great." "They've reached, or just about had when the communicated with Commander Adama, their destination." Jolly leaned toward him. "So? Where are they now?" "By now, they've set down on Planet 4 of the Alpha Centauri sector." "Catchy name," said Jolly. "Could be they'll find out some info about Earth there." "Yeah," agreed Boomer. "The next message from them ought to be very interesting." ************************************* Chapter Sixteen: Understandings Starbuck was sitting in the middle of the blue-and-white walled central living room of the large sprawling house, taking in the odd piece of modern metal sculpture hanging on the corner wall. He rubbed his hands together and looked away from it. Out behind the high, wide-glass windows, the day had died and there was nothing to see but a crisp blackness. "Does get a mite chill here of an evening," he said, taking a few quick puffs at his cigar. "You automated oaf!" bawled Hector, who parked himself in front of one of the dark windows, the flashing of his orange voice light spectacularly reflected in it. "You have disobeyed my order to reactivate all the heating units." "But Father, living alone for so many months, we've not needed them, being robots." Vector was passing out cups of a dark, steaming liquid from a tray that he held in his claws. "And please don't bawl me out in front of our guests." Apollo, together with Don West, John Robinson and Judy Robinson, who'd previously switched from their silver flight suits into brightly colored clothing, were also in the living room area, each occupying a thick, plush armchair. Cassie and Maureen Robinson could be heard in the dorm wing of the house trying to calm the giggling and hyper Will and Penny Robinson down and get them ready for bed. "This is called coffee," John explained as he took a cup from the serving tray. "A bean-derived beverage that is quite popular on Terra. Maureen is quite skilled at making it." Sniffing his mug, Starbuck said, "We have something like this, called nearcaf, but I don't like it as well as ambrosa." Apollo took a sip, made a noncommittal face and settled back in his chair. "I don't know why, but I'm getting the feeling the people at Alpha Control didn't give you guys all the facts about this place." "I think you'd better come clean and tell me what happened here," John told Hector. "It wasn't our fault," the senior robot replied. "What happened was...the Alliance." Holding his cup in both hands, Don stared into it. "They attacked this planet?" Hector said, "That happened about a year after you escaped from Moonbase 14 Umbra." "Who were they attacking?" Judy asked. "We've heard stories of a human settlement somewhere beyond the hills, but we've never seen it," said Hector. "Their ships flooded the planet with chemical-biological agents. Then they left." "The virus that killed Maureen's parents," said John, "that came from them?" "We believe so," said the robot. "First James died. Susan lived for almost three weeks afterward. We didn't go into the details in front of your wife to spare her feelings." "In God's name... why have they done this?" Apollo sat up. John put his cup down and looked contemptuously at Apollo. "I think I'm going to go outside and enjoy this nice chilly Alphan air." With that, he got up and left the room. Starbuck looked over at Don. "You have anything to tell us, Major West?" West didn't say anything. He put down his cup of coffee and followed John out of the room. "Dad? Don?" Judy called out to them, but they didn't respond. The blonde Robinson daughter turned to Apollo and Starbuck. "I'm sorry about that, Apollo," she said. "They don't fully trust you yet and...the Alliance is not a subject they like to talk about." "Why?" asked Apollo. "For one thing, he and Don have seen this happen dozens of times," said Judy. "They kill everyone and leave all the cities and technology for themselves. If there were others here, and they've killed them, they'll undoubtedly come back when they feel like it and plant a colony of their own people here. They're in no great hurry. These attacks are part of a vast, long-range plan of conquest." "What we've heard of these Alliance gents so far isn't very reassuring." Starbuck settled crosslegged on the floor with his back to the ornate concave mirrors that lined the living room wall. "Who in Hades are they?" Judy drank a little of her coffee. She glanced up at the ceiling, its beehive of light fixtures. "Before I tell you that, maybe you'd better tell me what you're all about," she said. "Those uniforms you're wearing look military to me, so you must have enemies of your own." "You bet we do, beautiful," said Starbuck. "A race of nasty little robot thingies called Cylons...and we're running from them." "Do the Cylons want to kill you?" It was the pajama-clad Will Robinson, standing in the adjoining kitchenette, who asked that question. "Yes, I'm afraid so, Will," said Apollo in flat, matter-of-fact voice. "The Cylons seek to impose their view of perfection upon the entire universe. Humans and all other races that do not fit that view of perfection are summarily destroyed, without mercy." "They sound like absolutely horrid creatures!" exclaimed the nightgowned Penny Robinson, who'd just stepped up to her younger brother's side. In the back-ground, Cassiopeia was calling for them to come back to bed. "Will, Penny, Cassiopeia wants you to go back to bed," said Judy. "Please do so." "It's all right, Judy," said Apollo. "What can we do for you guys?" "Well," began Will, "Judy said she wanted to know something about your home planet. We'd like to hear it too." The siblings sat down in the plush sofa that John Robinson and Major West had previously occupied. "Was your homeworld destroyed by the Cylons?" asked Penny. "All of them," said Apollo. "We're from the Twelve Colonies, a republic of twelve planets, bound together by ties of race, religion, and language. The Cylons, without warning or declaration of war, Penny, attacked us. That was just over a thousand yahrens ago." "Yahrens?" asked Judy. Starbuck joined the conversation, explaining that with twelve major planets in the Colonies, a standard time unit had been necessary. Yahren was the standard year. Almost at once, with his agile young mind, Will was able to work out the relationship of the Colonial Yahren to the Terran year. "Say, that works out to approximately 940.6 Terran years, Judy," he informed the oldest Robinson daughter. She whistled. To remain at war for an entire millennium! How could any society survive? "Cassiopeia told us about that big ship of yours," Penny said, "the Galaxtia..." "Galactica," corrected Apollo. "Sorry...Galactica. I can't imagine it being on the losing side in anything." "Actually, we were winning," said Starbuck, Apollo giving him the nod. "In one of the last major battles, led by the Battlestar Rycon, a massive Cylon offensive against the Colonies was turned back. Of the six attacking BaseShips, three were destroyed and two were badly mauled. Shortly afterwards, the Cylon Imperious Leader contacted our President directly and sued for peace." "And...they lied to you?" said Judy, who was already in the first stages of infatuation with Apollo. "Yes," said Apollo. "We were betrayed by one of our own, a man named Baltar." Starbuck, although seated across from him, could sense the rage simmering in Apollo. As usual, his best friend and commanding officer had difficulty keeping his feelings under wraps. Apollo utterly and irredeemably hated the traitorous instrument of the Colonies' holocaust; his mother, Ila, his brother Zac, an entire civilization, gone, eradicated, thanks to Baltar. "The Fleet was led into ambush and the Colonies were annihilated. Our battlestar, the Galactica, is the only one that survived that terrible day of infamy. Since then, my father has been leading us on a search for the legendary planet Earth, the Cylon Empire ever nipping at our heels." There was a clapping sound coming from the left hand side of the room. It was John Robinson, who'd just returned from his little "walk." He said, "Bravo, Captain Apollo. A touching story, but is it true or just a tale you've fabricated to get us to trust you?" He crossed the room to look directly at Apollo and Starbuck, as if oblivious to the fact that Will and Penny were not in bed like they were supposed to be. "Dad, I don't think we'd still be alive if they were lying to us," Judy pointed out. John thought about what Judy had said and then decided he agreed with her. "Now," John began speaking again, "you've told us how you came to be so far from your homes. What I don't understand is your fascination with this planet Earth, why you want to find it, and how that justifies pulling the Jupiter 2 off its course." As he hovered over Apollo, hands on his hips, Apollo told him of Kobol, the mother world of all humans, and how, over 6,000 yahrens ago, a group from the dying Kobol, the 13th Tribe of Humanity, fled for Earth. As the last known Humans in the universe, Adama wished to seek them out, for aid against the Cylon monsters. "Where do we figure into all this?" asked John. "Your family," began Apollo, "may constitute proof that the 13th Tribe made it to their intended destination. You belong to a culture that, unlike all the others we've en-countered, has no connection whatsoever to the Colonial past." "Wait a minute," Don said. "Are you telling us there are other colonies of your people out there? The way you just told the story to Will and Penny it sounded like all the survivors were packed up in those ships of yours after your twelve planets were destroyed." "Not 100% of all remaining humans in our corner of the universe." Apollo finished his coffee and put his cup down on the armrest. "You see, when we began our journey to Earth, we passed a lot of small outposts in the early stages of the journey. No one of any importance, they were merely descendants of expeditions that had first traveled from the Colonies a few centuries earlier. After our first yah...year of travel, we went past the point where space was charted to us, where no Colonial could have ventured to establish a continuing outpost." Don West cleared his throat. "And you came here. But our planet's name is Terra, not Earth." "In the ancient language of our people," Apollo continued, " 'Terra,' means 'Earth.' Have you ever heard Terra called Earth, Professor Robinson?" "I can't honestly say that I have," said John, confusion descending upon his sensuous dark eyes. "Earth is another word for soil--that's all." "I've heard someone call Terra 'Earth,' " said Will Robinson. "A friend of mine..." "Hush, Will!" John Robinson barked. "And why aren't you and Penny in bed?" Without argument, the siblings marched out of the living room and went to their beds. "Okay, fella," Starbuck said, "we've said all we can about our enemies, now how about telling us about yours?" "I don't believe that's any of your business," snarled John Robinson. "John," said Don West as he emerged into the living room, "since they're so hellbent on going to Terra, maybe it's time to fill them in on the reality of what they're going to find there." "Very well," said John. "We, that is, my family and I, come from a society that, at least in my opinion, needs a lot of help. Our history is filled with wars, corruption, rapacious corporations, unethical financiers, disease, social-economic upheaval and genocidal pogroms." "Much like my people were, once," said Apollo. "But, if your spacecraft is any indication, surely you strive to be better, to improve yourselves. Just as we did." "Yes, we do strive to be better---better at killing each other," John said. "You see, Terra was once a planet of many nations. But eventually, there were just two sides, the Nationalists and the Alliance. There followed a long, protracted struggle between the Nationalists and the Alliance, a struggle over food, resources, spheres of influence, the usual stuff." "Usual stuff?" said Starbuck. "There have been other wars before the one you're fighting now?" "Two, in fact," John replied. "My wife and I were born barely ten years after the close of the second one." "And that's not all," Don added. "There were two major brushfire wars on Terra's eastern continent before the outbreak of the present hostilities." Apollo asked, "Is that the reason for your country's extraplanetary colonization program? The Nationalists lost the war, and you're fleeing from your enemies, just as we are fleeing from ours?" "Nobody's lost yet," said John. "The war's still going on, but the Alliance has been systematically destroying our satellite planets, the ones we'd established as food suppliers and potential colonies. We left Terra for Alpha Centauri in hopes of starting a new society, one where people could live out their lives in safety, free from fear of the Alliance." He shrugged and spread his strong hands wide. "That was naive. Eventually, they'll destroy us all." "Just how powerful are they?" said Apollo. "Frighteningly powerful. They've conquered worlds as far out from our home system as Tau Ceti. Don't ever let them lay hands on that ship of yours, Apollo. If they learn its secrets..." "They'll do the same thing with its secrets that our scientists have always done with the secrets of the universe as soon as they're learned," said Maureen Robinson, coming into the room. She brushed a stray strand of auburn hair back from her forehead and crossed to an empty divan to sit. "They'll make Mother Terra and every other planet we've touched dirtier, filthier and poorer." "Are Will and Penny safely in their beds?" asked John. "Oh, yes, finally," she said. "They're safe tonight, but how long is that going to last? If the Alliance doesn't destroy us, then we'll probably invent something on our own that will." "Some reminders, Maureen Robinson," began Hector. "Your father was a man of science. Your mother was a woman of science. Your husband is a man of science. You are a woman of science." She gestured at one of the black windows. "And look what it got him," she said bitterly. "A grave in the middle of nowhere. My God! He never even lived to see his grandchildren." "Mom, the whole problem is more complicated than you're making out," said Judy. "It's not the tools, it's what we did with them." "Yes, dear. I know," she said, standing up again. I've heard all the arguments...many times." Judy Robinson yawned and stretched. "Excuse me, I think I'll turn in." Lips pressed together, she walked out of the room. Watching her, Vector said, "She looks glum. Did we do something wrong?" ******************************************************* In the chilliest, darkest stretch of the Alphan night, Judy Robinson rose from her bed. Silently, in the darkness, she dressed, adding a heavy jacket to the yellow long-sleeved shirt and light-purple overalls she'd been wearing earlier, after changing from her silver flight suit. She stood for a moment, fully dressed and listening, and then made her way out of the room. Walking quietly through the still, dark house, she let herself into the coldness of the surrounding night. After Judy had crossed the bridge linking the floating house to the damp glade, putting one hundred yards between her and the house, she clicked on the small flashlight she'd brought with her. She pointed the beam at the soft and cool ground, beginning walking more rapidly. The night wind came rattling through the forest, sharp and cold. She'd covered nearly half a mile when she heard the unmistakable sound of whirring servomechanisms behind her. Halting, she clicked off the light and the oppressive darkness closed in. Twigs snapped and leaves crackled under the sound of pleated rubber treads. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face whatever it was that was following her. "There is no need to be frightened, Judy Robinson." She didn't need to turn the light on. The flashing lights from Vector's bubblehead and the flashing of his bright neon-green voice light provided all the illumination that was necessary. "Why are you following me?" "That is one of my duties," he replied amiably. "To look after and protect you. Since neither Father nor I require sleep and since we are immune to the cold, we decided to stand watch outside the house tonight. Father himself is over on the opposite perimeter." "That's very thoughtful of you," she said. "Actually, though, I don't need any protection at the moment." "All part of the service. We take care of you and yours." "I know," she said, reaching out to pat the crown beneath the robot's bubble-head. "Right now, though, I want to be by myself. I'd like to take a short walk." "State the purpose of the walk, please." "I'm hoping it'll help me sleep." "That will not be necessary. We have pills, all kinds, to help you sleep," he in-formed her helpfully. "Red ones; blue ones; green ones. Your grandparents left a whole array of them." "I'm not too fond of pills or synthetically induced sleep." "That computes. Humans often frown upon chemical dependence," Vector swiveled his bubblehead first left and then right in the robotic equivalent of a nod. "If you wish, I can accompany you on your walk. I'm great company, having been built to be highly personable. I'm chockfull of amusing anecdotes, bits of witty conversation and woodsy lore." "I'm sure you are," she said, showing a trace of impatience. "Now, Vector, would you please do me a favor and let me go by myself?" The mechanical man grew thoughtful. "This planet has many night-traveling predators. It could be dangerous." "Nonsense. I'm not going to walk all that far." "I repeat: It could be dangerous." "Keep in mind that you're supposed to be serving me." "Affirmative. That's my main duty in life." "Fine. You'll be serving me amply by allowing be to be alone for just a spell." Smiling at him, she turned away and resumed her nocturnal walk. "Well...I suppose it's allowable..." Vector stayed put and made no attempt to follow the young woman. "Do you promise not to get into any trouble?" Judy kept moving and didn't answer him. ******************************************************* Commander Adama frowned at the communications screen. He stroked his strong chin and then clicked the screen off. "What can that mean?" he said to himself as he began to pace the main room of his quarters. "Sire Geller to see you," announced a speaker. "As if my day couldn't get much worse," muttered the gray-haired commander. "I don't think I heard that, sir. Could you please repeat it?" "Show him in," said Adama. The corpulent buritician came rushing in as soon as the door opened. "The Council isn't happy with you and I'm not happy with you!" he announced. "I'm not surprised. Sit down." "I prefer to stand, thank you," said Geller. "We are willing to overlook, for now, the high-handed way in which things have been managed thus far," he said. "However, we want more information on Alpha Centauri, especially the fourth planet, where we understand the Jupiter 2 has just now landed. Can that planet and its cosmic sisters support life as we know it?" "The atmosphere reports haven't as yet come in." "Precisely." Geller coughed into his hand and set several of his chins to jiggling. "The Council was soothed when news from Captain Apollo finally reached us. Here was a new planet and a new star, here was a possible source of important information about Earth, and, maybe, just maybe, our racial heritage." "I'm aware of how important Alpha Centauri is to us all, Sire." "Are you?" Geller strutted a few steps and halted. "Then why haven't you presented us with a full report of conditions on Alpha Centauri's fourth planet? And detailed information on what the Robinsons have to say about Earth, Moonbase 14 Umbra and any other human outposts?" "I've just now been trying to communicate with our vipers." "And?" Geller rose up on his toes. "I've been unable to contact either of the ships." The hefty buritician sank down on his heels. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow you," he said. "You told us that Captain Apollo had contacted you." "That was just prior to landing on the planet." "He hasn't reported since?" "He has not," answered Adama. "When I, just now, tried to contact him I was unable to do so. It seems something's happened to the sending-receiving units in both viper ships." Geller sank into a chair. "But that's dreadful," he said, sighing. "That could well mean trouble." "For once, I am in complete agreement with you," said Adama. **************************************** Chapter Seventeen: The Lost City Of Alpha-See-Four Commandant Smith entered the communications suite and stopped just inside the heavy metal door. He stood there, stroking his brown-gray hair, and watched the men at the green-tinted screens. Then, the ghostly green light of the room dancing and flashing on his gold-braided uniform, he walked down to the screen being tended by the chubby young Ampleforth. "What news do you have of our mystery ships?" the fiftyish commandant asked. Ampleforth licked his lips. "All three have now landed on Alpha-See-Four," he answered, straightening up in his chair. Fingertips resting on his hair, Smith nodded, "If we were to send a communique, from our present location, how long would it take to reach Terra?" "I estimate two months and three days, comrade." "And if we were to use the lightwave relay station on Moonbase 14 Umbra?" "That wouldn't be possible right now, comrade." "And why is that?" "The relay station was knocked out by Nationalist agents, Commandant," replied Ampleforth. "Dithering dolts! Antiquated Neanderthals! Can't the crew of Destroyer Two be counted on even to police an in-significant colony like Moonbase 14 Umbra?" He put his hands on his hips and leaned his angular head back. "Such is life, I suppose. Put me in touch with the bridge." "Yes, comrade." Ampleforth's plump fingers punched at buttons and dots of light. His screen was wiped clean and then it flickered, turned briefly purple and gave way to the image of a thick-necked man with close-cropped tawny hair. "What is it, comrade?" demanded the man, an annoyed expression on his flat reddish face. "Commandant Smith wishes to speak to you," Ampleforth informed him, voice tinged with smugness. He got up from his chair and bowed at it. "Commandant Smith? What does he want?" "I want you to carry out your orders, Captain DeVash," Smith had seated himself in the chair and was smiling bleakly at the screen. Giving him a grudging salute, DeVash said, "Yes, comrade. How may I best serve the state?" "I want us to proceed full speed to Alpha-See-Four," said Smith. "Full speed? That'll put a serious strain on our fuel supply." "Full speed," repeated the commandant quietly. "How long do you estimate it will take us to reach the planet, Captain?" "Twelve hours, approximately," DeVash replied, lips barely parted. "But, comrade, at the rate we're burning fuel, there's a good chance we'll never make it home." "I'll take that under advisement, Captain. Thank you very much." He stood up and walked away from the angry captain. ******************************************************* Apollo, alone, roamed the pleasant morning glade. He'd awakened early, feeling vaguely uneasy, and decided to do a little solitary exploring of Alpha-See-Four, at least of the area in the vicinity of the Robinson's new residence. The mossy ground underfoot was a deep golden color and the trunks of the highrising trees were a deep blue. The light from the suns took on a bluish tint as it came slanting down through the twists and tangles of branches. "Are we any closer to learning some answers?" he wondered. The wars and troubles they were trying to escape from where apparently just as frequent here, and on far-off Terra/Earth as well. Dry leaves crackled off on his left. Spinning, Apollo drew out his pistol. "Won't do you a bit of good, matey." "Huh?" Apollo's gun was tugged free of his hand by an unseen force. It went rising slowly upward, did a lazy loop and dropped back snugly into his holster. "Arrr! Impressive, ain't I?" A gaunt, mature, round faced and mustachioed man clad in a bedraggled two-piece suit came tottering into view between the blue trees. "Me name's Tucker. Alonzo P. Tucker. Who're you?" Swallowing, Apollo answered. "Captain Apollo, of the Battlestar Galactica. How'd you do the trick with my laser?" "It weren't no trick," replied the hermit, whose curly brown-white hair covered his scalp like an old dirty mop. "I be a telepath, a master of low-level psychokinetic powers. I kin do lotsa things like that, odd abilities and powers such as ye have ne'er seen. That's what gives folks the notion ole Tucker's a strange one. Now, what brings you to me planet, boyo?" "I'm just a visitor, Mr. Tucker," replied Apollo. "As a matter of fact, what are you doing here? I was told the Robinsons would be the first---and only---family out here." "Is that what they promised them poor folks? Bawww! Liars, all them that dwell on Terra be," the hermit called Tucker said. "Even one o'them two tin men what I've been watchin' know that ain't so, but he don't tell nobody. There's quite a few survivors, them that the Alliance didn't slaughter, scattered hither and yonder. I'm one o'them, and just about the most interesting of the lot, too. What brings ye t'Alpha-See-Four." "We came here with the Robinsons. Maureen Robinson is the daughter of---" "I know who the lass be, matey." "Okay, then we tagged along to make sure they arrived safely. Tucker made a dry chuckling sound. "I s'pose you was aimin' to go back to where-abouts y'came from pretty soon?" "We hope to." Tucker's chuckling degenerated into a wicked cackle, shaking his paunchy frame. "Arrrr! Ye'll be findin' that t'be easier said than done." Frowning, Apollo asked. "What do you mean?" The hermit said, "Arr! Arr! Ye'll be findin' that one out soon enough, matey," and slipped away to vanish from sight among the tall trees. ******************************************************* Starbuck came strolling back toward the house. His cigar was unlit in his hand and there was a thoughtful expression on his face. "Morning, Will, old chum," he said, slowing down. "Hector wants to know what you'd like to have for breakfast," said Will, who was standing on the blue grass. "He says you can have either flapjacks with blueberry topping, or scrambled eggs on toast." "Hmmm," Starbuck said. "Never heard of either delicacy, so forgive me if I---" "Eeeeeeeeeeeeek!" "That sounded like---Penny!" Will cried out in alarm. Instinctively, Starbuck drew his weapon, ever ready to defend his fellow human. "It came from the woods yonder. C'mon." They ran through the brambles, shrubs and bushes of the forest to where a frightened Penny Robinson was standing, her dark eyes widened in horror. Starbuck holstered his weapon, and then took her into his arms to comfort her. "It's okay, Penny," he soothed. "Will and I came as soon as we heard you." "Th-there was someone lurking in the bush in front of me, M--Mr. Starburst. Sh--she tried to grab me." "Starbuck," corrected Will. "His name's Starbuck, sis." "Did you say 'she?'" Starbuck asked. "Y-yes. It was a--a woman, a grow-nup," Penny said, trying desperately to calm herself down. "She...had long puffy black hair, just like mine." "There's nobody there now," Will said, returning to his sister's side after looking in the brush for himself. "You must have frightened her off when you screamed," Starbuck said. He looked into the brush, found himself coming to the conclusion that there was no way he could search for her in the woods and bramble ahead. "We'd better get back to the house, tell your parents." "That won't be necessary," said Vector as he rolled up behind the three friends. "There is a 99% probability that Penny has met a certain Miss Effra Riddle." Starbuck was slightly angry now. "What else do you know about that girl besides her name?" "She usually doesn't drift this far from Alpha City," said the robot. "Yet the young woman does seem to have a knack for sensing such things and I imagine she got wind of your arrival and got bit by the curiosity bug." "Alpha City?" the siblings asked in chorus. "I thought you said you didn't really know whether or not a human settlement existed here," said Starbuck. "Father's the one with the insufficient data about that, Starbuck," said the robot, swiveling his torso and pointing eastward with his right claw. "It lies about twenty miles from here." "Does Effra live there alone?" "No, there are others, very few though. They're mostly squatters like Effra and her friends," said Vector. "A most un-pleasant bunch, I'm afraid. The girl herself can be sweet, but...oh, what a temper." "But who built Alpha City and what size is it?" "It's quite large and was constructed a some decades earlier by secretive and greedy commercial interests who bribed our government so they could get their people here before anybody else did." "To what purpose?" "To secure mineral and agricultural rights, I think. Other settlers did come later, after the bombing, but they tend to shun the city." "Is it a real city?" asked Penny. "With buildings and all?" asked Will. "Well, children, you couldn't call it a city if it didn't have buildings, could you? That's the kind of dippy question Father is always criticizing me about." "Are there official buildings there, libraries and all that? What about places where records are kept?" "Of course," Vector swiveled his bubblehead. The lieutenant rubbed his hands together. "I want to see that city," he said. "I can take you there in the Chariot," Will said. "What do you know about driving the Chariot?" Penny asked sarcastically. "Plenty," came Will's reply. "I learned by watching Don." "Okay, then," said Starbuck. "It's settled." "Negative, Will Robinson," said Vector. "I cannot guarantee your safety or Starbuck's there. Recommendation: Stay here and let me tell you about the city's history." "Nope, I'm going to see it," said Starbuck, "If we're lucky, there'll be all sorts of material stored there. Stuff about Moonbase 14 Umbra and Terra." "Very well, if you must," said Vector. "But at least have some breakfast first." "The hellfire with breakfast, my mechanical friend," Starbuck said. "Kids, your Chariot ride begins right about... now." "Now? As in right now?" said Will. "You got it," said Starbuck. And he, the children and the robot started toward the parked Chariot at the edge of the woods. ***************************************************** Chapter Eighteen: Of Missing Persons. She was waiting for him at the shore of the lake, where the bridge met the ground. "Morning, Miss Judy," Apollo said, stopping beside her. The blonde young woman in the yellow shirt and purple coveralls didn't quite make eye contact with him. "I wanted to talk to you alone," she said quietly. "Sure," he said, turning to look once more at the impressive floating house. "Something wrong?" She kicked at the sand at her feet. "Not exactly," she said. "What I wanted to suggest was...don't leave, Apollo. Stay on with us." "That's impossible," he told her. "We're on a mission, searching for Earth. It could mean the difference between life and death for my people." She looked up at him then, put her hand on his arm. "Please, don't leave me here alone." He smiled. "But you're not alone," he said. "You've got your family, Major West and the robots." She shook her head. "Yes, that's true, but...I lost a boyfriend that meant everything to me." "I'm sorry to hear that," Apollo said. "He was killed on Paradeen, over two years before we left Terra," she answered. "Mom and Dad are scientists, Will and Penny don't quite know what they want to be yet, and Don's strictly a military man." "Your boyfriend wasn't any of those things, I take it?" "He was a farmer," she said. "A bright intelligent man, but interested in growing things and not in death and destruction." "As near as I can learn of them, your parents and Major West don't seem particularly destructive," he said. "Obviously, I never knew your grandparents, but judging by what they left behind---" "All that's beside the point," she cut in, impatient. "I've got two younger siblings that get on my nerves. I'm not sure I really like Don. I just--just can't get used to the fact that a man like him is going to be spending the rest of his life here with us on Alpha-See-Four." Apollo asked, "Why is he here at all?" "As I'm sure he's told you, to pilot the Jupiter 2 in case all systems failed. But there was also a security reason. Alpha Control wanted a crack military man on the mission in case the Alliance forces attacked our ship or captured us while en route to Alpha Centauri." She shook her head, blonde hair brushing her shoulders. "He's your 'guardian angel,' in other words?" "Yes, I suppose you could call him that." "Well," said Apollo, "whatever you feel about him, it seems to me that Don has fulfilled his function. He undoubtedly led you to safety when you were captured on Moonbase 14 Umbra, protected you and your siblings while you were our reluctant guests on the Galactica. And more important, he helped to make sure the Jupiter 2 got you here safely." "Yes, yes, I know. He's a brave and dedicated person whom my father trusts without question," she said. "Nevertheless, I don't want to spend my life with him. Living with him here in this house my grandparents built." Spreading his hands wide, Apollo said, "These are problems you and Don have to work out." "They could be your problems," she said. "Don't you realize what I'm saying? I'm fond of you and I find you very attractive." "Wait a centon, Judy!" said Apollo. "I'm flattered and all, but you don't know me and I don't know you. Now if you were telling this to Starbuck...well, he's got a different-sized ego than me and he'd probably believe you could fall in love with him in ten milicentons. I don't work that way and I think you're just clutching at straws. It makes you uncomfortable to be around Don and along comes Apollo to save you." "Do I strike you as that shallow? Some idiot kid who throws herself at the first guy she meets?" "Not at all," he said. "But you are, if you'll slow down and think about it, rushing things. We're not in love, which doesn't mean that in some other place and under other conditions we might not be able to fall for each other. Here and now, though, it's out and out impossible." "Maybe you'll find the time, some-how," she said hopefully. "You're wanting hope and I've none to give you," he said. "We'll be leaving here in a day or so, heading home for the Galactica." "And if you don't leave?" He frowned, gazing into her cool blue eyes. "We'll leave." Judy said, "All sorts of accidents can happen." Apollo took hold of her shoulder. "What are you talking about, Judy?" "Nothing," she said, pulling away. "Nothing at all." Turning away from him, she went running across the bridge back toward the house. ******************************************************* Apollo met more of the inhabitants of this supposedly virgin planet about a centon later. Both Judy and the hermit, Alonzo P. Tucker had hinted, fairly broadly, that it might be tougher to get off the planet than he was expecting. That decided him on getting down to where they'd left their vipers. He hadn't been able to find Starbuck at the house and Cassie didn't have the faintest idea where Will and Penny were. So Apollo was heading to check up on the status of their ships alone. "Gotta watch Judy Robinson very carefully from now one," he said to himself as he walked rapidly down through the high grass. "I don't trust her. She is an attractive girl, though." Far overhead three large orange birds were gliding in lazy circles across the morning. He wanted to be able to fill the shoes of Judy's fallen love, but there wasn't any possibility he'd be settling down on Alpha-See-Four. That just wasn't the course his life was going to take. Eventually, maybe, he'd settle someplace, but not now. Not until the fate of the thousands of people of the rag-tag fleet was settled. "And maybe we're getting closer to some answers. This planet might---" "Hold it right there, pilgrim." Up out of the brush a few yards ahead of him loomed a big, wide young man. He wore a faded two-piece suit of work clothes and held a blaster pistol aimed square at Apollo. Apollo stopped. "Am I trespassing?" "You might be for all I know, since that word don't mean nothin' to me." He came stomping closer. "You're one of them fellers come in them fancy ships down yonder, ain't ya?" "I am. Name's Apollo." "I'm Davy Sims," the large youth informed him. "Got a farm, me and my aunt, 'bout a mile from here." "You survived the Alliance attack pretty well." Davy shrugged. "We're awfully hard to kill," he grinned. "My Cousin Theodore says it's on account of we got mighty tough DNA...You figure as that's so?" "That'd account for it, sure," he replied. "Look, I only want to go down and look at my ship." "Can't say I blame ya none," Davy kept the gun pointed at him. "Seeing as what's happened to it. I ain't sure if it was the Alonzos or not." Taking a step forward, Apollo said, "What's happened to my ship?" "Best take a look," advised Davy. "I just did. Man, I never saw so much fancy hardware in my life. Yes sir, must've really been something before it was all smashed up." "Smashed? Good Lords of Kobol!" Ignoring the gun, Apollo started moving again. He began a wild dash downhill. Davy tucked his blaster away in his pocket. "I guess you ain't dangerous, pilgrim," he said, taking off after Apollo. "Hey, wait up!" ******************************************************* Cassie stood by the front door of the Robinson's house, not looking at anything in particular. The midmorning suns were warm, the sky clear. "Cassiopeia," called John from behind her. She stopped and turned. "I was thinking of going for a short walk in the woods," she said. He caught up with her. "I suppose that's safe." "You seem upset about something," the young woman noticed. "Is it about Will and Penny? I haven't been able to find them anywhere on the premises." "That's part of it. The other part is Judy," he said. "Has she been talking to you at all?" "Not about anything too important." He said, "I have the feeling she's been discussing certain...things with Apollo." "Well, he's got a sympathetic ear." "She's not very happy," he said. "I suppose being in suspended animation for five yahrens can do that to an almost post-adolescent girl," said Cassie. "There's that, I'm sure," he said. "But I think she's mostly unhappy about Don and the rest of us." "Give her time to get used to Alpha-See-Four. You'll see a dramatic improvement in your family relations, I'm sure." "I'm afraid it isn't that simple," he said. "I'm sorry about not mentioning this earlier, but before we left Terra she had a boyfriend that she was about to be engaged to." "A boyfriend?" "Yes, an agricultural technician stationed on Paradeen. He was killed when the Destroyers bombed it. Don's parents were living there and they were killed as well." John looked toward one of the windows, noticing the sullen major standing in front of it, as if eavesdropping. "That's why he feels the way he does about the Alliance." Nodding, she asked, "How'd he get stuck with you guys?" "Alpha Control assigned him to us. There was a---" "Ahum," Hector had come rolling up to them. "What is it?" "Excuse me for intruding, Professor Robinson," said the robot. "I thought, how-ever, I ought to inform you of something." "I'm listening." After simulating another throat-clearing sound, Hector said, "It's that clod-like collection of condensers, Vector. Well, actually, Vector, Will and Penny and our friend Lieutenant Starbuck. Although I am certain it's basically Vector's fault, since he hasn't half the brains I built into that ingrate chassis of his." Cassie asked, "What's happened to them?" The mechanical man extended his hose-like arms and waved his claws like a demented windmill. "Noting their absence, I started using my built-in tracking devices on them," he explained. "It seems that your son commandeered the Chariot and they are now heading east to the site of the alleged human settlement on this planet." John turned away from the robot. "Ohmigod, William, what are you doing?" Looking from Hector to John, Cassie said, "Professor Robinson, if there actually is a city where they're going, what does it mean to them?" "Exactly what they're asking for---trouble!" answered John. ************************************* Chapter Nineteen: Vandalism And Other Troubles When the warrior reached his viper ship 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. Apollo stepped out of the viper and then leaned back against it, grunting in rage. Davy Sims eyed him. "That bad, huh?" "Not only did they smash up a lot of things," he said, "but they also carried off some parts. So even if we can patch up this damage, we're still stuck." "Well, sir, Alpha-See-Four ain't such a bad little planet," Davy pointed out helpfully. "Oh, sure, we get raided by them Alliance Destroyer ships now and then, but it's generally pretty quiet around here." "No, we don't intend to settle here." He tried to hold out some hope that Starbuck's viper was still intact, but by the time he reached it and had a chance to look inside, he saw only more of the same. The two sleek vipers had been pillaged completely into worthless piles of junk, probably by the same people he and Starbuck had sworn to protect. Davy watched him climb down from the cockpit of the second viper, dropping to the ground. "Is that one pretty bunged up too?" "Yes," he replied. "Frak, felgercarb and shit!" he bellowed as he gave a savage kick to the side of the second of the vipers, ignoring how it sent a shot of pain up his leg. "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" He collapsed against the base of the viper and almost felt like crying. "These Alonzos you mentioned, Davy. Did you see them doing this?" "Not exactly, nope." He dug one boot toe into the sward. "When I come to take a look, they was just sort of pokin' around. More curious than anything else." "Did you notice if they took anything? Like parts and such?" "Fact of the matter," said Davy, "me an' them don't get on all that good. They kind of suggested I mosey on and mind my own dang business." Apollo walked over to the Jupiter 2. He noted that the gangplank that led into the interior of the ship was still down. He remembered what Don West had said about the self-destruct function and, despite his better judgment, found himself saying, "I hope it's not too late!" But it was too late. The astrogator was burned out, along with every circuit and every control panel in the ship's upper deck. Dials would no longer turn, switches would no longer make contact, and gauges would no longer give readings. Nothing worked anymore, not even the ship's elevator. "Well, I guess Judy Robinson will get her wish," Apollo muttered. "Nobody's leaving here today, I'm afraid." He sat cross-legged on the floor of the Jupiter's flight deck for a minute, staring at the freezing tubes that had once held the Robinson family. Then he got up and proceeded to quit the ship and resume his conversation with Davy. "I think I better have a talk with the Alonzos," he said. "Can you show me where they live, Davy?" Davy Sims poked the ground with his toe again. "Well sir, I can, sure," he said finally. "Thing is, I don't believe it'd be too smart to go calling on them." "Tell you what," said Apollo. "You just take me to them, then I'll deal with them face to face." ******************************************************* "Welcome to Alpha City," said Vector to the group. It was a city in every sense of the word. Will guided the Chariot through block after block of impressive buildings. First came the geodesic domes, made of glass and metal. Next came the mile-high skyscrapers, rising high into the midday light of the three suns and stretching away into the distance, all of connected by a complex web of monorails. Unfortunately, all of it was filthy with grime and neglect, overgrown with twists and tangles of vines. The wilderness had begun to reclaim the land that Alpha City had been built on. Weeds grew up thick through the cracks in the paving; grass was tall in what had been small park areas. "Ooooh, I think this is a dreadful place," Penny whined. "Not only is it dreadful," said Vector, "but it's also forsaken, null, devoid, vacuous and abandoned." "Yep, it's all of that," agreed Starbuck, chomping on his cigar and leaning back in his seat. "I don't know about you guys, but I think I've seen enough," Will just now pulled a lever forward to reduce the Chariot's speed by one-third. "I don't think dad would like us going sightseeing without him. Why don't we head back?" "Stop this crate, Will," advised Star-buck. "Don't do it, Will!" pleaded Penny. "Step on the brake," amplified the anxious lieutenant. "I want to take a good look around." "It's much safer in here, sir," Will assured him. "As it is, I'm going to be in serious trouble with my dad just for using the Chariot without his permission and driving you here." "There could be snakes," Penny added, "and other creepy crawly things waiting out there to eat us alive." "You two are absolutely uncanny!" Starbuck responded. "You're not afraid to be frozen alive yet little slithery animals scare the poggies outta you! Penny Robinson, if you were my daughter, I'd---" "We have a saying on Terra, Lieu-tenant," Vector cut in. "Discretion is the better part of valor. Please don't mistake their misgivings about that city for cowardice." Leaning, to one side, Starbuck glanced out the window, down at the high grass and sagebrush passing the left side of the Chariot. "I might bust some essential portion of myself were I to jump off this vehicle while it's still in motion," he reflected. "Still, if you don't stop this treaded tinkertoy, I'm going to open the door on the passenger's side and jump." "You can't do that!" Will cried. "You think I'll be in trouble when we get back? I'll really be in for it if you jump out of the Cha-riot and break your neck." "I know, kid. That's why it's to our mutual benefit to stop." "If I may make a suggestion, Will Robinson," said Vector, "stop the vehicle like he says." Will closed his eyes in despair. "You win, Starbuck," he said, programming the numbered sequence into the Chariot's computer-box to stop the vehicle and shut the motors off. "But only if you promise to be as careful as you can. Don't do anything that'll get me, Vector or Penny hurt." "Friend, you got a deal," said Star-buck. The Chariot gently clanked to a halt on a heavily weeded vacant lot. Will Penny and Starbuck climbed out, while Vector used the special built-in ramp to lower his heavy robot body to the ground. From off a gnarled orange branch of a high tree a dark bird went flapping up and away. "Ugly snitrod," remarked Starbuck. "My sensors indicate that was a carrion eater." "I'm glad he's ignoring us." Vector continued to address Starbuck, swinging his middle section left and right to survey the area as he did so. "I recommend limiting your initial tour of the city to ten minutes, sir. Bear in mind that if anything happens to Will or Penny, you may find yourself prosecuted for child endangerment." "Vec, I'm just here to look for information about Terra." Grinning, Starbuck put one arm around Will and then Penny. "I want to locate the libraries, halls of records, official buildings and stuff like that." "It is not necessary to do this all today." "Sorry, Vec, but I think it is." "There's just one problem with that, Starbuck," said Will. "You're talking about sorting through mountains of data. That means hours of work, even for Hector and Vector. And we don't know if there's anything here for you to sort through." "Granted I'm not as slick as your mechanical friends," grinned the lieutenant. "Even so, I want to get me an idea of what's here. Obviously, if there's anything stored here, I'm not going to be able to sort it out today. I mean, though, to get an idea of what Alpha City does hold." "It holds danger, peril, hazard, precariousness and jeopardy," said Vector. "What if we see that crazy girl again?" asked Penny. "Good question, young lady," said Starbuck, getting his stogie lit despite John Robinson's earlier warning about smoking in front of the children. "Vector, about how many of her friends are we likely to encounter while exploring hereabouts?" "Too many." Starbuck made a tell-me-more gesture with his left hand. "Please be more specific." "Well, Effra travels with a band of young toughs," said the robot. "That gang numbers around ten, I'd imagine." "Are they the only gang who haunts the city?" Hector replied, "Negative. Unfortunately, there are other clusters of scalawags who make this ruin their home. All the more reason sir, for making our stay as brief as possible." "Okay, and the sooner we start, the sooner we can quit, old chum. I don't know about you kids, but I'm ready to look around. That mean's you too, Vec." "You want me to escort you?" Vector stayed where he was. "Sure, you're going to escort us," said Starbuck. "Will, Penny and I are the tourists and you're the tour guide. Now, get rolling, Vec." Vector waved his claws. "Very well, although I believe this entire expedition is foolhardy and...eeeeeeeehhhhhhh!" The robot stopped speaking altogether. All his lights, even those in his bubblehead, went out. His arms fell to his sides and his middle section leaned to one side while his treaded "feet" kept his lower extremities in an upright position. "Vector!" Will cried. "Vector, are you all right?" "What in hades happened to him?" Starbuck frowned. "Heck, that's easy to explain," said a voice behind them. ******************************************************* The garage on the opposite shore from the rear of the house was thick with shadows. "I'm afraid I'll have to insist on coming with you," Cassie said. With the help of Hector, John Robinson was rolling the spare Chariot out toward the sunlight, while Don stood to one side, waiting to board. "That could be dangerous," John told her. She patted her holstered pistol. "All the more reason why you need me to go along." "If I might put in a word," said Hector as the Chariot reached the outdoors. "Professor Robinson is right. If there is a deserted city in the eastern quadrant, it is likely to be fraught with dangers." "And Starbuck, Will, Penny and Vector are stuck there," said Cassie. John said, "Don and I have been scouting the perimeter around the house. We've been seeing a lot of strange people darting in and out of the trees, drifters and misfits, most likely. They obviously have to live somewhere so it's logical to assume that there's some sort of man-made construction around here." "And it's also logical to assume that there are also likely to be valuable records and sources of information in that 'man-made construction,' as you call it," the girl said. "If it's a large city, then surely it must've had a library." "What you fail to take into consideration, Miss Cassiopeia," Hector said, "is the possibility that all that sort of material was long ago destroyed. By vandalism or the simple ravages of time." "Believe me, I have taken it into consideration," she said. "But I'm also aware of why Starbuck talked Will into taking him there. You simply aren't going to keep me from going to the place myself to see what's going on." John said, "I think you'd do us more good by staying here," "Why?" "To help Maureen and Judy, of course," he said. "I don't like leaving them alone. Apollo seems to have wandered off, too." Cassie turned to the robot. "You said you could track Vector. Can you also communicate with him, find out if they're in any trouble?" Rotating his bubblehead, Hector answered, "Negative. I haven't gotten around to adding such sophisticated touches to that bellicose bumpkin, Miss Cassiopeia. However, I'll check again and see if I can get a fix on his position." He became still, except for a series of beeps and warbles emitting from his rapidly flashing voice light. "I hope you understand," Don West came over to the young woman, "that neither Professor Robinson nor I want to boss you around, Cassie. It's just that we think---" "That does not compute," said Hector, as he came out of his electronic trance. "Where's Vector?" asked Cassie. Hector's bubblehead rose and fell on its bellows. "Insufficient data," he admitted. "For some reason, I've lost all contact with him." ********************************* Chapter Twenty: Arguments, Suspicions And Perils The Alonzo spread covered several cleared acres framed by a thick forest of giant mushrooms. There were three low, domed buildings clustered together and then alternate fields of growing crops and grazing animals. In the half-acre nearest the ranch buildings, the corn-like crop appeared to be stunted, the ears a dingy gray and swollen. "Them poor folks lost most of that," explained the nervous Davy Sims as they approached the ranch, "on account of the last raid. Some strange chemical goop they dropped out of that there Destroyer ship just plain ruined the maize and---" "Far enough!" warned a slightly accented voice from the main house. All at once, a jagged line was cut in the dirt between them. While the dust was settling, Davy said, "Like I said, they ain't all that cordial, these Alonzos." Framed in the doorway was a large, heavy-set man of forty-some. His long dark hair was parted in the middle, and it framed both hemispheres of a wide, round face. A pencil-thin moustache covered the space between the bottom of his flared nose and his thick upper lip. He cradled a blaster rifle in his pudgy arms. "Who's that gringo you got with you, Davy?" he called out. "Well, now, Hector, this here's Captain Apollo and he'd sort of like to---" "I want to talk to you," Apollo began shortening the hundred yards separating him from the watchful Hector Alonzo. "I could have dropped one of you back where you were," Alonzo pointed out, "and the closer you come, the easier she's going to be." Apollo continued walking toward him. "I didn't come here to argue, Mr. Alonzo," he said evenly. "You shouldn't have come here at all!" the heavyset man told him. "You're tied in with those hombres mocanicos up at that floating art palace the Hapgood gringos built up yonder. A bunch of you came here, yesterday, where you've got no business to be." "I did arrive yesterday. I'm not going to argue as to whether or not we've a right to be on Alpha-See-Four." Alonzo was studying him through his narrowing slanted eyes. "You don't look like you hail from Terra at all," he concluded. "And you gotta wear all that cagada to help you breath our air. Yes, I can see that there's something mighty different about you." "It's going to take quite awhile to explain just who I am and where I come from." Apollo stopped a few feet from the armed man. "Right now, I want to talk about my ships." "Hombre, the best thing you could do," said Alonzo, swinging the barrel of the blaster rifle so it pointed up at the warrior's chest, "is climb in that ship of yours and hightail it off this planet." Apollo laughed, "C'mon, now, Alonzo, you know damned well I can't do that. Because my ship, along with my friend's has been sabotaged." ""Ah si?" "I have a hunch you know how the damage got done," said Apollo. ""Por Que?" "You were up there this morning," said Apollo. Gesturing with his rifle barrel, Alonzo said, "So was Davy." Apollo nodded. "Do you deny that you smashed the control panels and took away some of the parts?" "I ain't denyin' nothing, hombre," said Alonzo. "But I might just point out that I want you and them other asquerosos to get the hell off of Alpha-See-Four. Smashing your ships ain't gonna help that none." Rubbing his hand across his chin, Apollo said, "You've got a point." "Why don't you tell him the truth," said the dark-haired and shapely woman who appeared in the doorway behind Alonzo. Without turning, he said, "This ain't no concern of yours, Gloria." "Por que? If the Alliance comes back and attacks again, we may not be so lucky as we were last time, his wife said, stepping out of the shadows and looking at Apollo. "Your being here is only going to bring trouble." "That's not my intention," said Apollo. "We came here to get information. If our ships hadn't been sabotaged, we'd have left in a few days." The woman said, "Even a few days is too long. The Alliance knows what goes on here; they know everything. They must know there are strangers on Alpha-See-Four and they'll come here to take care of you. That'll mean trouble for us, too." "Her brother was killed on the last raid," added Alonzo. After watching the woman's lovely face for a few seconds, Apollo said, "You know who tried to wreck my ship, don't you?" She averted her eyes and didn't answer him. "Vamanos, Gloria," her husband urged. "If I can find out who did it and what happened to the parts that were taken," said Apollo, "I'm that much closer to repairing my ship. You can sense that, can't you?" "Will you take them all away with you?" asked Alonzo. "That whole family and their blonde puta too? "No, I won't," said Apollo. "They came here to make a new home." "Trouble," said his wife. "That's all it's going to mean, trouble for all of us. As if we ain't had enough already." She began, softly, to cry. "Vamanos," said Alonzo, his voice not quite so harsh this time. Without a word, his wife returned inside the house. "That goes for you too, gringo---Vamanos!" said Alonzo. "No!" Apollo roared. "You cooperate with me first!" "Hombre I don't know a goddamned thing!" said Alonzo, prodding the air between them with his rifle. "Except this. When the caca hits the fan, as I'm sure it will, you are on your own. Vamanos!" Apollo took a slow breath in. He nodded once and went walking away from the ranch house. *************************************************** "This isn't the kind of guided tour I had in mind," remarked Starbuck, as he and the kids were herded along a damp, chilly underground tunnel deep beneath the streets of Alpha City. All three of them walked with their hands on top of their heads, fingers laced. Starbuck was in front, Will was in the middle and Penny was in the rear, with Effra jamming the barrel of her gun into the young girl's back. "Humdingers! I never have run into anybody quite like the three of you," said the beehive-haired brunette girl. "I guess that's because there isn't anybody like us in the whole damn universe," Starbuck said as the group stepped around a greenish puddle of muck. "Starbuck," Penny said, "make Effra stop poking me in the back with her gun. It hurts." "Effra," Starbuck began, "If you're gonna point that gun at anybody's back, point it at mine. Otherwise, you'll be in serious trouble with me if you wear a hole in Penny's kidneys." "How the heck'd you know my name?" "Vector, our faithful robot companion, told me," replied the lieutenant. "That was shortly before you fried his inner workings." "How'd you do that, anyway?" Will asked. "I mean---you haven't wrecked him---he's going to work again, isn't he?" "Shucks, kid, he ain't wrecked none," said Effra, as she used her gun to prod Penny higher up on her back. "I merely turned him off temporarily." "But how'd you do it?" Will persisted. "Humdingers! I don't rightly know," she answered impatiently. "It's just a knack I have. By concentrating on little tricks like that I can make machines and such quit working." "Sounds like you have some kind of psionic power." Starbuck glanced back over his shoulder at the voluptuous brunette. "With a gift like that you could do great things." "Heck, I'm satisfied with where I am," she answered. "Now, how 'bout introducin' yourselves." Will was the first one to speak. "I'm Will Robinson." "I'm Penny Robinson, his sister." "I'm Starbuck." "I ain't surprised." "Why's that?" Starbuck asked. "Ever since yesterday, I've had several or so names bouncin' 'round up inside o' my noggin," explained Effra. "Starbuck, Apollo, Don West, John and Maureen Robinson...and so on and so forth. I had this burning hunch new people was roamin' 'round in the vicinity. So I went scooting out of the city to take a gander. I spotted Penny this morning, was close to draggin' her back here with me, till you showed up, Starbuck. Would say you was the cutest of the bunch." "By a long way, sure," he said. "By the way, where are you taking us?" "You're my prisoners," she said. "See, this is our city, an' we don't cotton to strangers nosing 'round it." "How many of you are there?" Starbuck asked. "Quite a few," she said evasively. "More than plenty to lick you and all your buddies." Starbuck stopped abruptly to face the girl, forcing the others to stop in their tracks. There were only a few globes of light along the long shadowy tunnel. They'd halted in a spot where there was little illumination and Effra's face was lost in darkness. "How can you threaten these children?" he cried. "Dear Lords of Kobol, girl, they've got an older sister the same age you are." "What the heck do you know about my age?" she answered. "You can't be more than seventeen, if that old," Starbuck said. "I've been here ten years and I had to have been more than eight when I got here." "Did you come here from Terra like my family and I did?" asked Will. "Did they put you in a spaceship and freeze you?" "Yes, I came here from Terra," said Effra. "Yes, they hauled my carcass aboard some spaceship and put me to sleep in one o' them freezing tube whatchamajiggers. Why the heck are you asking me all this stuff for?" "Because," Penny said, "we like you, Effra. We hope that you can help Starbuck's people find what they're looking for." Slowly, Penny put her hand on Effra's gun hand, like a boy putting out the hand of friendship to a strange dog. She seemed moved at first by Penny's friendship gesture, at first lowering her weapon. Suddenly, Effra jerked her head back, her long hair falling across her shoulders, and started laughing, her small, perfect teeth flashing suddenly. "I hate to tell you this, girlie, but I'm not in the business of helping any man out, even if he is sort of cute and interesting like your friend Starbuck, here," she told her. "Interesting, that is, compared to the usual line of fellows I run into." "You've lived in this enormous ruin for a decade," Starbuck said. "You must know where everything is, right?" "Well, sure I do. Humdingers! I'd be pretty stupid if I didn't," she said. "And I probably wouldn't have survived if I didn't know my way around darn good." "Right, exactly," Starbuck said. "So you're the perfect one to help us find what we're looking for---the sources of information in this burg. First, we want a library, the biggest one you've got." "Doesn't matter what you want, Starbuck," she explained. "You don't have any say. And that goes for you kids too." "Is this what you really want?" Starbuck said. "To remain loyal to some kid gang?" Will re-entered the conversation. "Alpha-See-Four is just one planet in a whole universe full of planets," said the boy. Golly, there are worlds and worlds out there in space. Wonderful worlds." "Right here is wonderful enough for me, boy." She poked Penny in the ribs with her gun. "All right, you've all had your say, now get moving!" "You help us," Starbuck said, "and I'll see to it that---" "Are these dudes giving you trouble, Effra?" "No, Edgar." A fat-faced and bespectacled young man with long brown hair that covered his ears and brushed his shoulders had stepped out of the shadows up ahead. Most of the youth was flesh and blood, but his right hand, which was protruding from the right sleeve of his beige fringed jacket, was made of polished metal. "Takin' you a hell of a long time to get these three cats to our pad," he said in his low, raspy voice. "That's entirely my fault," said Starbuck. "I insisted that she show us all the high spots along the way. Personally, I find your sewer to be very fascinating." The youth slugged Starbuck squarely in the stomach with his metallic hand. Penny screamed as the warrior doubled over in pain. "You don't rap with me 'til I say you rap with me, Daddy-O! Dig?" blustered Edgar. Will and Penny helped Starbuck get up off of the filthy floor as best they could. The warrior fought his pain to face down the belligerent Edgar. "You know, chum, it's highly likely that we are not going to get along with you and your peers." Edgar said, "That don't make no difference, Daddy-O. You and those two squares standing on either side of you ain't gonna live long enough for it to matter." Will and Penny shivered as they realized what the youth meant. All Starbuck could say at that moment was, "Oh." ******************************************************* They were gathered around the Chariot when Apollo came hurrying back toward the house. "Something wrong?" he asked. "It appears so." Cassie came over to him. "Will took Starbuck, Vector and Penny off to explore a city that supposedly lies to the east of this house." "Whoa, back up, Cassie! There's a city around here someplace?" "Apparently yes," she replied. "When Starbuck heard about it, he persuaded Will to drive him there in the other Chariot." "And something went wrong?" "We think so. There's been no word." "Are they likely to get in trouble there?" "Unfortunately, yes," Hector said. "Professor Robinson believes the city is most likely occupied by lowlifes and vagabonds. Vector should've known better than to permit Will to take them there." "Frack! This planet turns out to be less uninhabited all the time," said Apollo, slapping at his thigh with the palm of his hand. "Okay, we'd better get over and take a look at this city." "The reconnoitering has be carefully done," cautioned the robot. "I don't know the fate of Lieutenant Starbuck, Will Robinson and Penny Robinson, but I can tell you that Vector has ceased to function." Apollo moved nearer the Chariot. "I'm ready to go when you are," he said to John Don came around the side and asked Apollo, "Where have you been? You looked angry before we even told you about Starbuck." "Yeah, I've been chatting with some of your neighbors," Apollo said. "We have neighbors?" Maureen was puzzled. "More like a neighborhood," answered Apollo. "And a not-too-friendly neighborhood, I'm sorry to say." John frowned. "In that case, the best thing for all of us would be to just stay away from them." "I was after a little information," said Apollo. "Mostly I wanted to find out who smashed the controls of our ships." Cassie made a gasping sound. "Apollo, you can't be serious?" "Wish I wasn't, Cassie," he said, shaking his head. "As of now, there's no way of getting off Alpha-See-Four." "Maybe there is," John said. "If you can recover the technical schematics of your ships, I'm sure that together, Will and I ought to be able to figure out your technology and make the necessary repairs. He's a whiz at electronics. Of course, this will have to wait until we get him back." "These vandals of ours were very thorough," Apollo told them. "They smashed our onboard computers, too. No onboard computers, no technical schematics. Bottom line: our ships might never fly again." "They might be able to get back in the Jupiter 2," Don said. John looked at him as though he though him insane. "I know, the systems were supposed to self-destruct upon landing. But, if I can scrounge enough wiring from any old computers we might find in the city, together with the parts from their ships, and any intact circuits and transformers I can cannibalize from the spaceship's flight deck---Yeah, with time and a little luck, I think I could have the Jupiter 2 spaceworthy again." "The thing is, Don, somebody also made off with some of the parts as well. That's going to make things even rougher," said Apollo. "Why would these neighbors of ours do that?" asked Maureen, looking at the robot. "It does not compute," said Hector. "I have no record in my memory banks of any out-and-out damage caused by any human or animal occurring on this property." Apollo tapped his chin for a micron. Then, he looked back at the house and saw Judy Robinson, standing in the open front door, looking very different now with her long hair resting over her brow and swept over her ears. "There's one more possibility," he said. Cassie took Apollo over to one side, out of earshot of Don and John as they started to board the Chariot and Maureen started across the bridge back to the house. "If the neighbors didn't do it, then who...?" she said. She noticed Apollo, still looking at the face of Judy, who turned around and went back into the house. "Oh, Apollo, you don't think...?" Apollo motioned for Cassie to be quiet. "We can talk about that later," he said. "Right now, let's go see what sort of mess Starbuck's gotten Vector and the kids into." ******************************************* Chapter Twenty-One: Into The Alpha City Underworld There were five of them in the underground room. Starbuck never did learn all their names. Will and Penny weren't even sure they wanted to know them by name. "Here they are," introduced Edgar, shoving Penny and Will so hard into Starbuck's back that it caused his cigar to pop out of his mouth. Three of them were young men; two were young women. Most of them smiled on seeing Starbuck and the Robinson twins come stumbling into their meeting place, but not in ways that seemed cordial. Starbuck bent over to whisper in Will's ear. "Make sure you and your sister keep quiet, good buddy. I'll handle this, okay." Will nodded in understanding. "Pleased to meet you," said the warrior. "Let me explain how you can help us out. First, we're looking for...oooof!" "Pipe down, grub!" Edgar hit him again in the back with his metal fist. The second blow sent Starbuck smacking into the nearest wall. "Starbuck!" Penny screamed. She started to run over to the fallen warrior, but was stopped by Edgar, who'd shoved his metal fist under her face, threatening her. "Want some of what I just gave goldilocks, dork?" he said. "Don't hurt 'em too much," urged Effra. "Why not?" Edgar growled. "Because," said the voluptuous brunette, "they maybe knows lots of interesting things. We can learn stuff from them." They were in the basement of what must once have been an office building. Old dented filing cabinets were stored here, festooned now with spider webs. A broken computer terminal lay on its side near a scatter of ancient office chairs. Starbuck leaned against a battered desk. The Robinson twins offered to help him, but he refused. "Look folks," he said. "We're not here to make trouble. As Effra pointed out, I can be of help to you." "Man, you're smoking dope, because that just doesn't seem possible," a bald-headed youth in a one-piece green worksuit told him. He was crouched next to a nest of wastebaskets. Starbuck continued. "You're not the only gang that haunts this city, right?" "Ain't you ever going to pay attention?" Edgar raised his fist. "I want you to keep shut up till---" "Let him talk." Effra rubbed her fingertips along the side of her head. "I got the feeling him and them brats can help us in fighting some of our rivals." The bald youth snorted. "Dubious at best, babe." "Okay, I'm willin' to let him rap with us," said a fat girl who sat in a swivel chair with a blaster pistol resting on her broad lap. "We can waste the slug soon as he gets boring." "We don't have to kill him at all," The brunette girl eased nearer to him. "Go ahead, Starbuck, talk." "Okay, if you're through debating my future," he said. "As I was saying, dear friends, we come not to---" "That cat's nearly as windy as you are, Big Mouth," observed a bearded young man. "I doubt it, good buddy," said the bald youth. "The thing that'll give you an edge," continued Starbuck, is weaponry." "Starbuck, are you nuts?" Will said. "Sharing weapon secrets with these--" "Shut up, Will!" Starbuck ordered. "That's true in any sort of conflict," continued the warrior. "Now, ladies and gents, I happen to have arrived on your fair planet, the pearl of the universe as I like to think of it, with a shipload of the latest stuff in weapons. State of the art, if you know what I mean." "I don't buy that," said the fat girl. "You're puttin' us on." Starbuck pointed at Edgar. "This gent took charge of the pistol I was carrying," he said. "Look it over, folks, and then try to tell me it isn't superior to the venerable junk you've been depending on." "Perhaps we'd better take a closer look at the bloomin' thing," suggested Big Mouth, idly holding out a hand toward Edgar. Reluctantly, the leader drew Starbuck's pistol from his belt. "Here. It doesn't seem all that boss to me." "If you'll allow me to demonstrate the distinct advantage..." "We aren't that dumb," the fat girl told him. "You'll take the gun and use it on us." Starbuck tried to look shocked. "Wow! Will, Penny, you've just got your first lesson in real life---lend a helping hand and you just get it bitten off," he said. "Okay, examine it on your own. Just be careful you don't blow your respective or collective brains out with it." Big Mouth was holding the gun close to his face. "Ah, yes, it is of a rather cool design," he muttered. "Considerably more settings than anything we're used to." "On the lowest setting," said Starbuck, "you can deliver merely a mild shock." "Who wants to do that?" asked the fat girl, causing her swivel to squeak as she shifted her bulk to get a better look at the gun. "We want to fry every slug who's not on our side." "There are times," said Starbuck, when stunning is better than frying, young lady." "Hold it!" yelled Edgar. "Big Mouth, what do you think? Is he full of it?" "Nope, good buddy, this weapon is of decidedly superior workmanship. I think a good supply of these would give us a distinct advantage over our rivals." Nodding, Edgar went over to address Starbuck and the Robinsons. "How many more you got?" Will smiled as he realized what Starbuck had in mind. "How many do you need...dude?" he said. ******************************************************* Colonel Tigh said, "Frankly, sir, I don't know exactly what to make of it." The commander was sitting in an armchair, going over the sheaf of data sheets the colonel had brought him. "We have to assume, judging from this, that the communication units in both vipers have been deliberately destroyed," he said. "Yes, that much seems clear." Tigh was sitting on the edge of his chair, watching Adama. "Our probe instruments, of course, aren't sophisticated enough to give us any specific details. Not at this remove from Alpha Centauri at any rate." Resting the sheets on his knee, Commander Adama steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "We can also conclude that there's been some sort of trouble involving both Apollo and Starbuck." "There's no way of determining the nature of the trouble." Adama picked up the papers again and leafed through them. "I'm also troubled by this part of your report, Colonel," he said, tapping a paragraph in midpage. "Can you give me any further details?" "Again, sir, we're at too great a distance for detailed information," answered Tigh. "All we know is that a large alien space craft seems to be heading for Alpha-See-Four." "Cylon?" "No, that much we're sure of." Thought lines formed on the commander's broad forehead. "Who then?" "That we don't know," said Tigh. "I think we can safely assume that whoever it is might mean trouble for Apollo, Starbuck and probably for the Robinsons as well." Gathering up the data sheets, Adama stood. He crossed to his window and gazed out into the immensity of space. "Thank you for bringing this to me," he said finally. "Are we to take action?" "Not yet." "I---don't quite follow you, sir." "I believe we have to give them more time," said Adama. "Don't worry. If I change my mind, I'll contact you." "Very well, sir." The colonel rose up and left the commander's quarters. A micron later a speaker announced, "Sire Geller to see you." Scratching his chin, Adama replied, "Tell the sire I'm on a sleep period." "Until when?" "Until further notice!" ********************************************** Chapter Twenty-Two: A Short Side Trip "Humdingers!" said the black-haired Effra in an unhappy voice. "I shouldn't ought to be doing this." "Aw, a short side trip isn't going to matter," Starbuck assured her. The three of them were making their way along a narrow underground passageway; one that branched off the larger tunnel the girl had guided them through earlier. The concrete walls were damp, streaked with purplish mildew, and the sound of dripping water could be heard off in the shadows. "That was great, Starbuck!" Will said happily. "I don't know what you mean, kid," the warrior replied. "He means the way you were able to con Edgar and Big Mouth and the rest of them," Penny told him. "All that goop about bringing back all sorts of guns for them." "Untruths aren't my style, Penny," Starbuck said innocently as he followed Efrra and the kids over the damp stone walkway. "Tell 'em you'll get 'em guns and I'll go along to see you come back with the stuff," she said disdainfully. "You plain forget I got me a few extra knacks, Starbuck. I pretty often get awful strong hunches about what folks are thinking." "You got to be careful with a gift like that," Will pointed out. "The point being," Effra continued, "I got an awful good notion you came up with this scheme just to get you and those kids out of a jam." "Why do you say that?" Starbuck said. "I was scouting outside the city," Effra replied. "Been doin' that since you and them Robinsons arrived on Alpha-See-Four." "That's good," said Starbuck. "Travel always broadens the mind." "I saw your ships, Starbuck. They ain't what I'd call loaded up with guns." The warrior slowed, shrugging one shoulder. "With all these suspicions, why'd you agree to go along and keep guard over me?" "Because...well, I don't see any sense in lettin' 'em kill you and those two brats," Effra said quietly. "Although I'm going to be in real trouble when I get back without one single new gun or anything." "Then don't go back," advised Will. "Why not?" Effra laughed. "I sure ain't going to live out in the woods from now on, like that crazy hermit Alonzo P. Tucker." "Haven't had the pleasure of meeting the gent, but there are other places to live," Starbuck said. "Will and Penny's parents could put you up. Or we might be able to squeeze you in one of the vipers and transport you back to our battlestar." "Is that what them dinky little ships you came in are called?" Effra asked. "Vipers?" "That's right, honey," said Starbuck. "A handsome name for a handsome ship." "Climb up on that." Effra pointed at a metal ladder the foursome was approaching. "It'll take us to the street level." "Okay, sure," said Starbuck. They each took hold of one of the rusty rungs and started climbing upwards. "Why were you asking about our vipers, Effra? I detected an odd note in your voice." "I was over there, having me a look," she said as she followed him up into the shadows, the Robinson twins trailing just a few rungs behind her. "Middle of the night, it was." "And?" He jerked his head back when a fat white rat went scurrying along a ledge he was passing. "Saw somebody tearing 'em up...Push up on that hatch above you." He complied and the metal trap door lifted. Starbuck pulled himself into a small, grey-walled room. "You saw somebody tampering with our ships?" Effra ignored the helping hand, boosting herself into the room unaided. Will climbed out next, and then helped Penny out of the trap door. Effra then dashed across the room to a dusty round window and stared out. "Looks okay outside," she announced. "The dang library you guys are so anxious to poke around in lies right across the street. I'll doublecheck that it's safe outside, and then we'll run for it." He caught her slim arm. "First, finish telling me about our ships." "I saw somebody smashing the works with a monkey wrench," the brunette answered. "A blonde and blue-eyed woman, it was, sort of pretty." Starbuck's mouth dropped open and all he managed to say was, "Huh?" "It's true. She banged up the controls in both your vipers or whatever you call 'em," Effra went on. "Starbuck," Penny tapped the warrior on the back to get his attention. "It could have been Judy." The Galactican warrior was puzzled. "Why in the devil would your older sister do something idiotic like that?" "I dunno," said Will. "Women are always doing dumb things. Maybe you should ask her when we get back." "If you guys get back, you mean," Effra said. "Right now, though, let's concentrate on avoiding the rival gangs and getting you inside that stupid library." ******************************************************* "My sensors indicate that no trap is present," said Hector. The search party was crouched in the thick tropical foliage near the edge of Alpha City. In the waning light of the late afternoon, they could see the other Chariot and the other android slumped beside it. A half-dozen of those curious monkey-like creatures were hopping around the Chariot and another was perched atop Vector's bubblehead. "No sign of Starbuck," said Apollo. "I suggest we move ahead and investigate," said Hector. Nodding, Apollo tapped Cassie on the shoulder. "Stay here and back us up in case something goes wrong." "Will do," she said. The pointed-eared monkeys went scattering into the new twilight, the one on the robot's bubblehead leaping away last. "Vector?" said Hector, extending his arm and tapping his mechanical colleague on his middle section with his claw. There was no response. "Ground's trampled all around here," noticed Apollo. "Somebody besides Starbuck and the kids was here. Looks like they headed into the city together." "Vector, I'm losing patience with you," the robot was saying. "Talk to me, you digitized dunce!" Silence. Without further ado, Hector reached in with his left and opened a compartment in his right side. From it he drew a small compact tool kit. "I believe I can fix him in a jiffy," he said confidently. "My guess is someone used a disabling beam on the poor fellow." While Hector tinkered, Apollo scrutinized the area around the Chariot. There was a definitive trail to follow here, but he was near certain it would die once they reached the city itself. Who in Hades had grabbed Starbuck, Will and Penny? And why? If they'd just wanted to murder them, they'd have done that on the spot. But there was no evidence of bloodshed or even a scuffle. "What do your sensors tell you about the people who roam the city," he asked Hector, "would they be likely to kill Starbuck and the Robinson twins?" "They tell me that the present inhabitants of this city are not people as you know them. They're organized into vicious gangs. And yes, they'd be likely to kill Starbuck and the children," replied the robot. "That's why it was thoughtless of Vector to allow Will to bring him here." "Gee, Father," said Vector, as his the lights of his body came alive, "you're forgetting that all robots of the B-9 series, yourself included, are designed to aid humans, albeit reluctantly." "Do you have any idea what happened?" Apollo came up close to the repaired and revived mechanical man. "Affirmative. I have a crystal-clear idea of all that transpired. Because, you see, although I was incapacitated and unable to move, my sensory equipment continued to function. I couldn't aid Will, Penny and the Lieutenant, yet I saw and heard all that went on." Apollo asked, "What happened?" "A black-haired girl," answered Vector. "Yep, that sounds like something that'd happen to Starbuck," said Apollo. "Details?" "She was lying in wait for us," Vector recounted. "Lieutenant Starbuck had stepped off the Chariot, taking the children with him, and I followed them. Then, without warning, a strange feeling swept over me. I was all a-flutter, filled with peace and joy." "Quit embroidering the story," said Hector. "Just give us the facts." "I can't help it if I give facts in a colorful way, Father," said Vector, pouting slightly. "After all, if you hadn't wanted me to be glib and---" "Get on with it, you fugitive from a junkyard!" "That's what I'm trying to do. At any rate, this girl did not, I'm willing to swear, use a weapon on me," he said. "No, I do believe the lass is possessed of psi powers. That she's able to put the whammy on a highly complex mechanism simply by willing it. Well, be that as it may, she surely put some sort of whammy on me. I was paralyzed, stiff as a board. Well, not exactly a board; more like a noodle. Anyway, while I was in that state, she appeared in the clearing here and pointed a nasty looking pistol and the children and the lieutenant. He tried to be glib and charming, for Will and Penny's sake, at least, but she was having none of it. Although I did sense she found him charming. The problem was, she was on orders from others. A clear-cut case of love versus duty, if I may." "She took all three of them?" asked Apollo. "Led them away to their lair," answered the robot. "Were they planning to kill them?" "It's my impression they were going to question each of them first," said Vector. "And then kill them, I would think." Apollo said, "Any idea where this lair of theirs is?" "I should be able to use my sensors to get a fix on where Lieutenant Starbuck, Will and Penny are at this very moment." "Okay, do that," said Apollo. "John, you stick here to see that nobody sabotages our Chariot. The rest of us'll go hunting for Starbuck's little group." ********************************************* Chapter Twenty-Three: The Library The place was immense---a huge dome of a building with ramps and rows of shelves rising up all around and crisscrossing. "This is a library, sure enough," observed Starbuck, gazing up at the tiers of books. Slowly and thoughtfully, he took out a cigar and lit it. "Anything in particular you're looking for, Starbuck?" Will said. "My sister and I can help you." "Whatever volumes you can find about your home planet, its history and its technology will be of a lot of help," Starbuck said. "Get crackin' then, you guys," urged Effra, glancing back over her shoulder. "This is pretty much El Rukn territory. We don't want to linger." There was dust thick on everything and the high, round windows let in a little of the thin twilight. The smell of mildew and decay was strong, and sprawled on the floor were tumbles of books and readspools and papers. Near the foot of one of the climbing ramps, someone, long ago it seemed, had built a bonfire of books and papers. After taking a puff of his stogie, Starbuck asked, "The El Rukns? Who're they?" "Another gang. El Rukn, formerly known as the Nation of Alpha Centauri." she said. "A lot nastier than any of us." Will started up the nearest ramp. "Doesn't look like they hang out here much." "Nobody likes this place," the black-haired girl said, following. "Some of them figure it's maybe...sort of haunted." "That works to our advantage," said Starbuck, grinning. "If they really believe in ghosts, then they're less likely to come barging in." "Don't bet on it. Once they find out we're jerkin' around in here, the El Rukns'll come crashing through the door, blasters blazing." "We'll hurry," the warrior promised. Will and Penny strode toward a catalog area, finding the three squat rows of file cards decked with spider webs and dust. Three chittering black mice went scurrying out from between the rows as the children approached. "The El Rukns don't keep up their buildings too well," Starbuck pointed out. "I told you they never come in here unless...unless it's important," said Effra. "And killing us would be important to those bloodthirsty hoodlums." Upon hearing that, Penny got nervous. "Starbuck?" "It's okay, Penny. I was merely making a quip," he explained, helping Will brush the dust and webbing off of a cabinet. "To lighten the mood of things." "Nothing's going to lighten my mood except getting out of this place," said Effra. "We'll be outta here before you know it," said Starbuck. Narrowing his eyes, Will tried to make out the inscription on the file drawer. "DAV to HOB. Hey, Starbuck, I think what you're looking for must be in this drawer. Help me open it, Penny." And two strong tugs later; Will and his sister finally got the drawer open. A mouse leaped free, trailing confetti-like fragments of what had once been file cards. "Frak!" said Starbuck, "these critters've been munching on the file cards. What a way to run a library!" "What's so all-fired important about this planet called Earth, anyhow?" asked Effra. "That's why we're in your star system," Starbuck replied. "To look for it." "And they think they may have found it," Will explained. "They think Terra might actually be Earth." "Humdingers! Terra's a pretty screwed-up place, I hear. Why would you want to go there?" said Effra, scratching her head. "To settle there, maybe," said Starbuck. "You and your friends?" "Me and several thousand others," the warrior answered. "There's a whole fleet of ships out there." "Humdingers!" "Ah, they didn't eat all the cards pertaining to Earth...ah, Terra. Yep, according to these there are books on the subject on level 12ET. You kids are lifesavers!" He stepped back and looked up. "What do you think, Will?" "I think Level 12ET is up in that direction," said the boy. "I suppose you're right, Will," said Effra without much enthusiasm. "But why don't we come back tomorrow or the next day." "C'mon, we'll find the books now and get out of here." Starbuck said. "Will, you lead the way." Will started up another slanting ramp, Penny, Starbuck and Effra following behind him. "I agree with Effra," said Penny. "Let's come back here some other time." "Penny, it's like dad says," Will responded. "Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today." "Yeah," said Starbuck. "Especially if it looks like you may get knocked off before tomorrow." "That ain't funny, guy!" Effra protested. "Making jokes about being killed." "I'm not joking." The warrior was practically running now, to keep up with the two kids. "I never have encountered anyone like you," the voluptuous brunette said, trailing along. "I'm unique," the warrior explained. "One of a kind. In fact, I've been thinking of approaching an android manufacturer and seeing if they'd like to turn out replicas of me. I think they'd sell like hotcakes." Effra snorted. "There ain't enough halfwits in the universe to make selling replicas of you a going business." "Hey, Effra, I thought we were friends." "Don't sweat it. I do like you. I like the kids, too," she said. "But not as much as I did before you talking me into coming here." "Now, I'm not up on the way diplomacy works on Alpha-See-Four," he said, "but it seems to me you folks ought to be able to get together and work out your differences. You and the El Rukns and the other gangs who---" "Oh, sure," Effra said, laughing, "the way you've worked out your differences with the Cylons." Starbuck watched the kids as they made their way through the depths of the library, following hot on their lead, and then he turned around and frowned back at Effra. "How do you know about my enemies?" She tapped her temple. "I must've picked up the thought from you. And you've evidently told Will and Penny about 'em, too, I've gotten flashes of the word from their brains. Excuse me for prying." "The Cylons aren't like the gangs here," the warrior said. "You can't use reason or logic with 'em. But with human-type people, why, I bet you could set up a meeting and work out something. After all, you're all in the same boat, really. Outcasts, living in Alpha City." "It'll be a cold day in Hell before that happens, sweetie," snorted the beautiful brunette. "Hey, you guys, I think I just found it!" Will called out. "Level 12ET!" Starbuck rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "How much further, good buddy?" "It's just right along the corridor here," the boy replied. They followed Will along a dim row of books. "Back on this battlestar where you come from," Effra asked, "do you have a regular girl?" "Huh?" Starbuck was concentrating on reading the titles on the faded, dusty spines of the books. "I think she wants to know if you have a girlfriend," said Penny. "No, nope, not at all," Starbuck answered. "That wouldn't be fair. If I committed myself to one lass, all the others would pine and waste away. So I've had to develop the policy of sharing myself with as many of 'em as I...Bingo! I just found a whole row of books about Terra. Damn, I'll just scoop these up and haul 'em back to Apollo." "Put 'em down if ya wanna stay healthy!" said a new, deep voice from behind the group. Slowly, they all turned around. "Effra," Penny said. "Are those---"? "Yep," replied the brunette. "El Rukns." ******************************************************* The black Destroyer ship settled down on the twilight hillside and the gathering darkness of the Alphan night seemed to swallow it whole. After a few minutes, a door near the forward cabin hissed open and a ramp came snaking out. The heavyset Ampleforth was the first to disembark. He was loaded down with gadgets and gear. "I'm picking up life form readings nearby, comrade," he said after scanning various dials and gauges. Smith came down the ramp and stood looking around at the trees and giant mushrooms that darkly rose up all around the clearing. "Location?" he asked. "Less than a mile to our north, Commandant," answered Ampleforth. "Very well, then. We'll take three men with us and leave the other six aboard our Destroyer," the hawk-faced Commandant Smith answered Ampleforth. "Are we to kill those we encounter, comrade?" "No, not yet," answered Smith. "First I wish to satisfy my curiosity." ****************************************************** Chapter Twenty-Four: New Foes There were four of them, and from Starbuck's point of view, that looked like more than enough. Each of them was big and wide, muscular and shaggy. They wore black trousers and black sleeveless tunics. Each of them carried two large blaster pistols in black leather holsters. The bigger of the bunch pushed up the bill of his black cap. "Who're these panty waists, Effra?" "They're not part of my gang, Bartholomew," she said. "Right. I think the blonde could take care of himself, but that little red-headed punk wouldn't last two minutes against us." "Hey!" put in Starbuck, taking an angry puff of his cigar. "This boy's got feelings just like you do, pal. You don't need to hurt 'em." The belligerent youth called Bartholomew and his three burly sidekicks approached Starbuck and the Robinsons in a menacing manner. "Do you think he's tough, wiseacre?" he said. Bartholomew pointed to Penny and the three youths surrounded the girl. "You his girlfriend?" the third and meanest looking of them asked. "I'm his sister," Penny gulped, looking with fear into the youth's hungry and hostile eyes. "Hey, boy!" Bartholomew called over to Will. "I'll make a deal with you: If you can save your sister from us, I'll make you a lieutenant in the El Rukns." Realizing what Bartholomew's friends were about to do, Effra rushed over and pulled Penny out of the way, positioning the girl between her and Starbuck. "Leave them alone," she insisted. "They're harmless. I was just escorting them out of the city when---" "You're forgetting something, Effra," cut in Bartholomew. "You're forgetting you, all four of you, broke the rules. This is El Rukn territory hereabouts, no one comes here but us." "Got no right being here," muttered one of the others. "Since I've got a crush on you," said Bartholomew, looking the beautiful brunette up and down and smiling broadly at her, "I can see to it you get out of this mess alive, more or less. Course, I got to turn you over to the rest of 'em at the clubhouse. Your friends here, though, they're finished." "You never use this library for anything," said Effra. "So we aren't really hurting---" "We might, and that ain't the point anyhow, girlie," Bartholomew said with a scowl. "The point is you ain't supposed to be on our territory at all. And other point is we don't want your gooney friends mucking around here." "You guys are going to make me angry if you keep this up," said Starbuck, taking Will and Penny under each arm and backing up against the shelf of books he'd been going over. "Let me explain what actually is---" "Muzzle it!" advised Bartholomew, resting his beefy right hand on the butt of one of his holstered pistols. "Man, let's just cut off their ears," suggested one of the other El Rukns. "For a start," added another, "Then we can nail them up to the wall out front, like we done that preacher and his wife last year." "Naw," said Bartholomew, "that's too tame. For these squares we gotta come up with something extra special." "You're only asking for trouble," warned Effra. "You hurt them or me and it's only going to make Edgar mad." Bartholomew laughed. "That square?" he said. "He don't scare me no more than these saps you brung along, gorgeous." Will and Penny were getting nervous. Starbuck could feel them trembling. It was time to go into action. "Now you've done it," he said, taking his burning cigar out of his mouth. "You've made me angry!" Without warning, he flipped the cigar right into Bartholomew's large, flat face." "Yow!" Hot tobacco coals flew as it hit him between the eyes. Starbuck and the Robinson twins backed quickly into the shelf of books. That was sufficient to topple it and heavy books came cascading down to hit the other El Rukns. During the diversion, Starbuck yanked his captured gun out of Effra's belt and aimed it at Bartholomew. He flicked it, swiftly, to a stunning mode and fired. There was a small humming noise and Bartholomew stiffened and then fell over on a mound of books. "Effra, Will, hide behind something!" advised Starbuck, grabbing hold of Penny's hand and pulling her down behind the fallen bookshelves. The other three El Rukns had drawn their pistols and were commencing fire. They weren't interested in stunning, but in killing. Several books were turned to ashes immediately, books that had been quite close to Will's head. Starbuck risked a look over the top of the shelving and tried a shot. He missed. "Might as well give up," said one of the remaining El Rukns. "We're going to kill you sooner or later." "I'd prefer later," said Starbuck. "We're never going to get free of this," said Effra, as she ducked low behind Penny. "Tut, tut," said Starbuck, "keep your spirits up. Even when things look darkest there's always hope." And hope there was. "Drop the guns," said a familiar voice. "All six of 'em." "How many thuds, Will?" asked Starbuck. "I count an even half-dozen pistols being dropped to the floor," said the boy. "And look, there's another guy out there, a guy wearing the same type of uniform you are." Starbuck stood up. "Ah, Captain Apollo himself," he said, grinning. "What an unexpected surprise." "Where's the brunette? How're the Robinson kids doing?" asked Apollo as he and Cassie set about trussing up the El Rukns." "Will and Penny are doing fine, " Starbuck said as the twins rushed over to greet Cassie. After helping the beautiful dark-haired urchin to her feet, the warrior led her over to where Apollo stood. "Effra, meet Apollo. Also Cassie and Hector and Vector. Feeling better, Vec?" The robot was staying a safe distance from Effra. "She's the one, Father. She's the one who put me on the fritz. Miss, I want to warn you that if you try such a trick again---" "She's reformed," Starbuck assured him. "Humdingers! Where did you get that crazy idea?" "Apollo, listen," said Starbuck, starting to sort through the now scattered books. "I found all sorts of stuff here for us. Books, old chum. With charts, maps, and Sagan knows what all. All about Earth, also known as Terra. I didn't get to do more than skim a few contents pages before these lunks popped in, but I think when we get this stuff back to the Galactica, why, they're going to have to make a statue in our honor when we settle into our new home planet!" "That may not be as easy as you think," said Cassie, tying the last knot in the improvised rag rope she'd used to truss up one of the El Rukns. "Our ships have been sabotaged." "Judy did it," said Penny. "You don't know that, silly," said Will. "We can fix 'em can't we?" asked Starbuck. Apollo said, "Maybe." "Let that be a lesson," said Effra. "Never trust people who you really ought to keep an eye on. You laugh at the way we live here, but at least we survive." "That'll do, Effra," said Starbuck. Apollo picked up one of the books on Earth. "What makes you think you're older sister's responsible for the condition of our ships, Penny? Did you actually see her do it?" "It's not Penny that witnessed it," Starbuck cut in. "Effra saw somebody smashing the controls of our vipers." Apollo dropped the book. "Is that true, Effra?" "It sure as heck is," the brunette replied. "Listen miss," said Apollo, "I need to find that person because he took some of the parts away with him." "I already told you, Apollo," Penny butted in. "Judy did it. Just ask Starbuck." Starbuck fished out a fresh cigar and popped it between his teeth. "Effra says she saw a blonde and blue-eyed young lady do the deed. Now, like Penny says, it could have been the oldest Robinson daughter, she certainly fits Effra's description, after all, but on the other hand...hellfire, it could have been some other lady we haven't even met up with yet." "No, I think Penny's right," said Apollo, "I think it was Judy." Starbuck had the match halfway to the tip of his stogie. "Why would she do that to us? We saved her family's life, for Sagan's sake." "I'll explain it later," said Apollo. "It's...well, in a way I suppose it's my fault." Hector rolled closer to them. "Suggestion: Let's finish up our affairs in this dreadful hold as soon as possible and beat a hasty retreat," he said. "There are no doubt more of these hoodlums lying in wait without." "At least a dozen," said Effra. "And all mean as sin." "Okay," said Starbuck, lighting the new cigar at last. "Will, help me bundle up enough of these books so we can push on." "I'd be glad to carry an armload, myself," said Vector. "Starbuck!" Penny cried out. "Something's wrong with Effra!" Cassiopeia went over to Effra, who was doubling up and clutching her stomach. "Are you okay, miss?" the med-tech asked. "No, I ain't," she gasped. Will dashed over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong?" asked the boy. "I'm getting...another one of my hunches," she said as her face went pale beads and perspiration dribbled down her forehead. "It's...it's about the blonde girl we was just talking about." "Judy?" asked Will. "What about her?" "She's in...trouble," said Effra. "Real bad trouble." ******************************************************* Night came spilling out of the woodlands, its chill made more intense as cool air wafted up from the lake and was blown onto the house by the planet's gentle winds. Judy hugged herself and got up from the lawnchair. "Mom," she called out, "Have you fixed dinner yet? I'm getting kind of hungry." She couldn't hear anything from inside the house, but then, that didn't really concern her. With most of the family absent, it was to be expected that the house would be quieter "Mom," she called, louder through cupped hands, "some dinner, please." From somewhere in the house, Maureen called back, "It'll be ready in a minute, dear." "Unfortunately for you and your mother, young lady, that will be a very long minute," said a voice coming from behind her. Judy turned around. There were five of them, wearing dark uniforms trimmed with gold-and-black helmets that hid most of their faces. Each wore a holster with a blaster pistol nestling in it and two of them carried blaster rifles. She backed up against the front door, her face turning white in fear as she recognized the uniform. "Oh--oh God! P--p--please. Don't hurt us. We--we haven't---done anything." A hawk-nosed fiftyish man with partially slanted eyes stepped clear of the others, bowed and clicked his heels. "Alliance Commandant Zachary Smith at your service, my dear," he said. She said nothing. A reptilian smirk crossed Smith's lips. "I'm afraid you're wrong about not doing anything," he said. "The Robinson party is wanted for destroying Alliance property, assaulting Alliance officers, and escaping from Alliance custody. There is only one penalty for that---death!" Tears flowed copiously out of Judy's beautiful blue eyes. Smith advanced menacingly on her, his beak-like nose almost touching hers. "However," he said, "If you can provide us with some important information, I'll see what I can do about getting your family a more lenient sentence." Judy opened the door, stepping into the doorjamb, keeping what she hoped would be a safe distance from the sinister commandant. "What---" she sniffed, "--information?" "We know that you were accompanied here by two other ships of unknown nationality. I wish to know about them." She shook her head. "I don't know a thing," she told him. "Nothing at all." Smith lunged and caught her arm, gripping it tightly. "Listen to me, young woman," he said in a low voice. "You have your family to consider, your mother, your father, your middle sister and your very young brother---especially your middle sister and your very young brother. As much as I detest torturing children, I shall do so unless you cooperate fully. Do I make myself clear?" "Crystal." Gathering her courage, Judy nodded once and then kicked him in the knee as hard as she could. Wrenching free of his grip, Judy turned and ran into the house toward the kitchenette where Maureen was in the process of fixing supper. "Dear," said Maureen, noticing the look of fright on Judy's face, "what in the world--" "The Alliance, mom," Judy said. "They're here! There are some sentries right outside our front door!" "What?" "Drop whatever you're doing and run! Get away from here! Run, quick!" "What about---" "Never mind! Just go! Get Dad! Apollo! Starbuck!" Upon hearing the footsteps in the hallway, Maureen dropped her spatula into the sink and made a mad dash for the back door. Smith, limping, stormed into the kitchenette, not too many seconds after Maureen's hasty exit, and caught Judy. "That was very foolish," He caught her left arm and twisted it up behind her back. "Very foolish. Von Trapp, go after that damned woman, and, if possible, see if you can find Professor Robinson and the remaining members of the Robinson party." Saluting, the menacing Von Trapp asked, "Alive, comrade?" "Yes, alive," said Smith. "You, young woman, will sit down on one of those sofas in there and parlay with me. Ampleforth, make certain there's no one else inside this place." "All my gear indicates that there isn't any---" "Doublecheck it," said the commandant. As he escorted Judy into the living room, she could hear her mother running away through the dark woods. And she could hear the man with the blaster rifle, Von Trapp, going after her. ************************************************* Chapter Twenty-Five: Good Triumphs Over Evil Maureen Robinson fell. Her foot caught in a twist of root and the mature auburn-haired woman went sprawling. She didn't cry out, knowing it was dangerous to make noise, which, she realized, would mean no one in the vicinity would know she was down. Her ankle was commencing to hurt. She got to her knees, struggling not to sob. Pain was throbbing in her leg. Darkness stretched out all around her and the trunks of trees looked like rows of enormous bars meant to lock her in. Pushing her hands against the mossy ground, Maureen was able to rise to her feet. She found she could walk, although her ankle hurt an awful lot. Running was impossible, but she'd keep walking and she'd come into contact with one of the neighbors that Alpha Control told them they wouldn't have. Maybe. She'd taken only a few shaky steps when she became aware of heavy footfalls behind her. She didn't look back, but kept hobbling along. "Stop, please, Mrs. Robinson," ordered a gruff voice. Maureen kept walking. "I don't want to use the stunner on you," said the uniformed man who'd caught up with her. "I will, though, unless you halt at once." With rage swelling in her breast, Maureen stopped and turned to face him. He looked immense. Like part of the night in his dark uniform and helmet. The silvery rifle seemed to float in the night, pointing at her. "Now, Mrs. Robinson, where are your husband and children?" he asked. "I don't know and I wouldn't tell you if I did!" she said defiantly. "I think you know where they are and you will tell me," he said, extending the gun until the barrel touched her chest. "Yes, you must have hiding places in these woods. So you tell me, quick now." "Go to hell!" Maureen growled. "Do you want me to hurt you, Mrs. Robinson? There's no need for that, is there?" The tip of the barrel began to dig into her middle-aged flesh. "Drop dead!" she growled, yet again. "Listen to me, you tell me where they're hiding or...Wow!" All at once, his rifle left his hands and went soaring away up into the dark tangle of branches high overhead. Making a surprised gulping noise, he jumped to his feet and snatched out his pistol. That too, left his hand. It went spinning off into the darkness. "Who did that?" he demanded. "Mrs. Robinson, how did you...Hey!" Now he himself was flying. His big feet left the ground and he rose up at an increasing speed. He leveled off and his skull began to bang against the trunk of a thick tree. He howled and protested, but he couldn't stop himself from battering the bole with his head. In less than five minutes he was unconscious and then he drifted---not fell---drifted down to settle in a heap near the puzzled Maureen Robinson's feet. "Well, ma'am, that takes care of him. Poke a nice old lady like you with a gun, will he?" A curly-haired and bearded man almost the same age as Maureen appeared from behind the trunk of one of the trees and smiled at the Robinson matriarch. "Arrr! We sure took care of him." "You're a telepath," Maureen said. "Fourth level." "Aye! That I am." "I don't know you," Maureen informed him. "I know. I haven't gotten 'round to introducing meself to you and your friends." He held out his hands. "Alonzo P. Tucker's me name, at least in these parts." "You have other names?" He stroked his scraggly beard and thought about that. "Don't imagine most folks know ole Tucker at all. Am I addressin' Maureen Robinson of the family Robinson?" "Yes. And I would appreciate it if you could take me home." Tucker said, "'Tis best ye get settled safely elsewhere for the nonce. Let me tie this scurvy swab up and then we'll find yer friends and see ye get put up somewhere. That okay with ye?" "I have to eventually go home. My daughter is there." "Aye, ye soon will," promised the hermit. ******************************************************* Smith stood with his thick back to the fireplace. His helmet sat on a nearby table, catching the scarlet glow of the blaze and reflecting it. "Von Trapp will return soon," he said. "Perhaps," Judy sat, arms folded, on the edge of the armchair. "And what, pray tell do you mean by that, Miss Robinson?" "Oh, perhaps there are some things on this planet you don't know about," she replied. "Things in the wood that might...delay your man." Smith chuckled. "I doubt that." "There might even be things out there that'll take care of the sentries you have stationed around our house." "I'm sure, I'm sure," said the commandant. "I see. You're hoping that your friends will return and overcome my men." He shook his head. "You would do well to abandon that hope, since every man aboard the Destroyer is a most efficient fighter." "Then you've nothing to worry about." "Nothing, no," he agreed. He rubbed his hands together a few times, watching her. "You can save us all a good deal of trouble, Miss Robinson, if you'll tell me now what I want to know. I actually mean your family no harm." "How many families have you killed so far in your career, Commandant? When you bomb cities and planets?" "When we bomb cities and planets they cease to be families and become statistics," he said with a devilish smile. "Where did those other two ships come from? Who are their pilots?" "I have no idea." "Of course you do," he said, growing angry. "I know they escorted your ship here. The ships are not from Terra, Moonbase 14 Umbra, or any other known planet." "Then you have a mystery, I would say." He strode across the room and took hold of both of her shoulders. "I would say you hold the solution to that mystery!" he shouted, shaking her. Judy made no reply at all. Smith made an angry growling noise and threw her back down into the sofa. "Do not play the fool with me, lovely lady," he warned as he walked back to the fire. "Sooner or later, we'll capture not only your mother but all the others as well. If you...yes, what is it?" The door had opened and a uniformed man came into the room. He saluted, hand ticking smartly against his dark helmet. Smith's eyes narrowed. "I ordered you to stay outside and stand watch," he said. "Something's come up, comrade." The uniformed man marched into the room. Two more followed him in out of the darkness. The commandant said. "Stupid fools! Why can't you behave like trained Alliance sentries and do as you're told?" "Because we've got better things to do," said another of the sentries, puffing on his cigar. Smith started walking toward him. "Why are you smoking on duty?" "Well, the kind of duties I have call for a little diversion now and then, old chum." He drew a pistol from his holster and pointed it at the commandant. "Now, I suggest you put your hands up high?" "What?" Starbuck removed the borrowed helmet and grinned at the perplexed Commandant Smith. "Your boys are slumbering out on the grass," he explained. "We...well, we took advantage of 'em, I fear. Snuck up and decked the whole set before they even knew what hit 'em. Hardly sporting, but very effective. Now we have you too." Smith tried a confident laugh. "I'm warning you, I still have several highly efficient men aboard my ship," he said, drawing himself up straight. "When we don't return by a given time, they'll storm this place and whip the lot of you from---" "You're using the wrong tense, old buddy," Apollo told him as he got out of his helmet. "You had a crew." Exhaling smoke, Starbuck said, "Professor Robinson, Major West and the robots paid them a surprise visit before they dropped us off here." "I cannot believe what I'm hearing!" "You better believe it," said Starbuck, grin widening, "you've lost this round, Commandant." Don was the last to take off the enemy helmet. Doing so, he moved to the young woman's side. "Judy, are you all right?" She reached up and took his hand. "Yes, I'm fine," she said, standing. "But mom, she ran off in the forest when these people arrived. We'll have to find her." He nodded. "We'll do that now," he said. Starbuck, gun still aimed at the defeated commandant, eased nearer to the fire. "Apollo, old chum," he said. "I was thinking about that Destroyer ship these lads travel in." "So was I," he answered. "Roomy, isn't it?" "Yep, the d,cor is a little grim, but it would fit all of us nicely inside," said Starbuck, warming his backside at the crackling fire. "Why don't we, since our ships are on the fritz, borrow the damn thing?" "An excellent notion," said Apollo. ******************************************************* They met in the forest. Don heard the sound of a land vehicle's motors first and then put a restraining arm to halt Judy. "Watch it," he warned, drawing his pistol. "It might not be a friendly." "Maybe mom hitched a ride with somebody." "Possibly. But it sounds awfully big for a civilian vehicle." The suspect vehicle came into view seconds later. It turned out to be the spare Chariot, packed almost to capacity with armed men. They stopped when they spotted Don and Judy on the dark path. John Robinson climbed out of the vehicle first, then Will and Penny, and then all the armed civilians. "It's all right, Don," he said, "I brought some help back with me." "My name's Davy Sims," said the youngest of the men. "We're sort of your neighbors." "If you don't want our help, just say so," another of them said. "I still think we ought to mind our own business, but Gloria, my wife, insists we---" "Mr. Alonzo here ain't nowhere as mean and ornery as he acts," explained Davy. "This is Edgar," Will Robinson introduced the bespectacled youth with the metal hand. "He's a member of one of the Alpha City gangs, and a close friend of Effra's." "Bartholomew," said Penny, indicating the black-garbed youth behind her, "says they hate the Alliance worse than they hate each other." "And that's why we're here," said Bartholomew, "to teach those pigs a lesson they'll never forget." Judy took a few steps toward them. "We're hunting for my mother, Maureen Robinson. Has anyone seen her?" "Yes, we have," said Hector Alonzo. "She's safe and sound," said Davy, grinning. "At the Alonzo spread with Mrs. Alonzo keeping her company. Mr. Tucker brought her over there and she told about how you'd been busted in on by Alliance sentries." "Where are they?" asked Edgar. "Man, I can't wait to try out my steel hand on one of the helmets those pigs wear." "Before I die, I'll take as many sentries with me as I can!" vowed Bartholomew. Don West said. "We appreciate your offer of help. Fortunately, they've been taken care of." Hector snapped his fingers. "I bet I know how, too," he said. "It was them other outlanders, Apollo and his amigos. Weren't it?" "It was," answered Judy. "Now, can you take us to my mother? I want her to know we're all right." "Sure, come on along," invited Alonzo. "You might as well see where we live, since we're going to be stuck with each other as neighbors, I reckon. Until the Alliance strikes again, anyhow." John said, "From everything I've just heard, it sounds more likely that the Alliance will be leaving us alone from now on, Mr. Alonzo." "Hey, amigo, call me Hector," he said. "How do you mean?" Judy said, "Our friends have thrown quite a scare into them. And I don't think they're through with them yet." Alonzo spat into the giant mushroom patch. ""Quen sabe?" he said. "But for now we might as well try to get along." "A good idea," said John, holding out his hand. Davy nudged Alonzo. "Shake hands, you stubborn nitwit." Alonzo held out his hand. "We'll see how being friendly goes," he said. ***************************************************** Chapter Twenty-Six: Farewell To Alpha Centauri The morning of departure was chill and gray. Judy Robinson shivered slightly as she and Apollo stood looking at the Destroyer ship some thousand yards uphill. "I'm going to miss you," she said softly. "I know," he said. "Someday, maybe, we'll see each other again." "No," she shook her head. "This is the last time." "I think you'll be able to have a pretty good life here on Alpha-See-Four now." "I'm sure we will," she said. "Will and Penny are making new friends, mom and dad have a house to call their own and...well, eventually Major West, Don, I mean, and I may like each other a good deal more than we do now." "Seems to me he's pretty fond of you right now, Judy." She looked away, toward the forest. "There's at least one thing I have to talk about with you, Apollo." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "I know what you're going to tell me," he said. "About who smashed your ships?" "Yes, I knew you'd done it," he said. "Effra saw you, and Penny put two-and-two together." "It was such an awful thing to do," she said, "so mean and stupid of me." "I don't condone it, but I understand why you did it, Judy," he said. "You wanted us to stay and when persuasion didn't work, you took a drastic step." "I was so angry," she said. "At you, at mom and dad and this whole damn colonization scheme. My uncle was dead and you were deserting me too." "Most of us lose control a few times in our lives," he said. "At least you didn't strand us on Alpha-See-Four. The Destroyer came along at just the right time." "But if I hadn't---" "Oh, Don would've been able to patch up at the Jupiter 2. We could have used it to get back to the Galactica for help." "You think I'm just a spoiled child, not a young woman. The tone of your voice gives you away." "You acted on impulse," Apollo said. "And as for your being a child..." Gently, he turned her to face him. Leaning, he kissed her once. **************************************** Starbuck hurried along the dark corridor of the Destroyer, blowing cigar smoke up toward the strutted ceiling. "Galactica, here I come," he was singing to himself. "Hey!" He slowed as a door opened beside him. "Ah, my favorite passenger and the unofficial mascot of the whole---" "Humdingers! Will you stop babbling, Starbuck and let a girl get word in edgewise," requested Effra, who had her dark hair braided and was clad in a suit of workclothes. "I want to talk to you." "I'm enroute to the bridge to consult with Apollo," he told her. "According to my calculations, doll-face, we ought to be nearing the Galactica after many long and weary days in space aboard this flying funeral parlor." "Well, dang, that's exactly what I mean to talk about," the girl said, leaning in the doorway of her cabin. Starbuck smote the side of his head. "I hope you're not gonna tell me you're sorry you came and want to be hauled back home to Alpha-See-Four." "Alpha-See-Four and Alpha Centauri you can stuff in your snoot," she said. "What I'm frettin' about, Starbucko, is this here battlestar of yours." "Don't worry, Effra, they're gonna love you on the battlestar," he assured the voluptuous young woman. "I can name you a dozen gents who'll fall at your feet in awe. Besides, there's an ample chap name of Jolly and then there's Zalto and---" "Hush," she requested, touching his hand. "You can sweet talk me all you want, but I know what I am." "You're a stunning brunette with all sorts of talents, wild and otherwise. What in hellfire's wrong with that?" "I'm just a girl who ran with a gang in the ruins of Alpha City," she said. "They'll all know that when they see me, I mean, your friend Cassie is so...well, she's a lady." Starbuck laughed. "You're as much a lady as she is," he said. "They'll all laugh at me, make fun." He leaned closer to her. "Listen pet," he said. "Everybody gets a certain amount of razzing when he or she gets into a new situation. Heck, now and then even someone as flawless as yours truly gets kidded. What you have to do is ignore it." "That's easy for you to say." "I will guarantee that within a couple of months on the Galactica you'll be just one of the gang," he said. "One of our gang, that is. Just remember, you're pretty and smart...and, listen, most everybody is going to fall under the spell of that black hair." "I surely hope so." He gave her a little peck on the cheek. "Be of stout heart, Effra," he said. "With Starbuck as your champion no harm can befall you." "Okay," she said, smiling hopefully and stepping back inside her cabin. Grinning, Starbuck continued on his way. He found Apollo on the bridge along with Cassie and two of the Destroyer's original crew. Commandant Smith was also present, sitting stiffly in a chair. "Ah," said Starbuck, puffing on his cigar as he came across the room, "just think. In a short time I'll be snoozing in my own little bed again." "Yeah, we're getting close to the Galactica," said Apollo, who was standing near a scanner screen. "Not that I'll be doing much sleeping, of course," said the grinning lieutenant, "since the folks'll be carrying me around on their shoulders and feting me in various ways. Bringing home all this information on Earth, that's quite an achievement. That library on Alpha-See Four was a fantastic find." "We've got a heck of a lot more information than we had to begin with," agreed Apollo. "The only thing that's worrying me," said Starbuck, "is how I'm going to return those books. I'd hate to have an overdue charge slapped on me." "Mealy-mouthed rogues," said Smith under his breath. Starbuck cupped his ear. "Eh?" "You're all a bunch of ninnies," said the commandant in a louder voice. "You've gotten this far, but your day will come. We have them most advanced military force in the galaxy." "So you've been saying," said Apollo. "Retribution will be swift once it's been learned that you had the audacity to abduct Alliance personnel." "Commandant," said Apollo, gesturing at the screen. "I had you brought here from your quarters for a reason." "Quarters? The holding pen is hardly appropriate quarters for a man of my stature. I shall most certainly lodge a formal complaint with your superiors." "Fine. Now, I need you to pay attention to what we're trying to show you," said Starbuck. "I really think it'll change your outlook." "Balderdash! I..." He leaned forward in his seat, staring now at the screen. "No. It can't be. I---I'm suffering from cosmic fever." On the screen showed the Battlestar Galactica. "You're looking at our home ship, Smith," said Apollo. "We'll be docking there in a matter of cen---hours." Smith ran his tongue over his dry lips. "Nothing could be that big, I tell you. Nothing!" Apollo folded his arms and looked full at the commandant. "What was that you were telling us about this invincible Alliance of yours?" he asked. All Smith could say was, "Oh, the pain. The pain." **************************************************** Chapter Twenty-Seven: Commander Adama Meets Alliance Commandant Zachary Smith Two sectars later: Starbuck slouched in his chair, gave a dignified chomp on his cigar and observed, "The Council's absolutely goofy!" "Well said, Lieutenant," said Commander Adama from behind his wide metallic desk. "But I would recommend that you phrase it a bit more diplomatically." "Diplomacy--Hades! Those snitrods are going to ruin everything!" "Calm down, good buddy," advised Captain Apollo. "Getting all excited isn't going to help." "That's easy for you to say, Apollo. You never get excited about anything." Starbuck pointed his cigar accusingly at where Apollo was seated. The three men were meeting at Adama's quarters aboard the Galactica. Beyond the oval view window showed the chilly infinite blackness of space. Apollo suggested, "Let my dad finish explaining the situation to us. Okay?" Thrusting his cigar back between his even white teeth, Starbuck said, "I'm all ears." "I've been meaning to talk to you about that," grinned Apollo. Adama cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, the situation is this," he said. "The Council, in a not unusual state, is in absolute opposition to me. Led, I suspect, by Sire Geller, they've told me they wish our recently acquired prisoners to be released." "Have they all been sniffing plant vapors?" Starbuck cried. "Those daggits we rounded up on Alpha Centauri are agents of an unfriendly military power based on Terra... which just might be the planet Earth we're all hunting for." "I know, I know," the grey-haired commander told him. "Father, what if the Robinsons' home planet really is the Earth we seek?" Apollo asked nervously. "Then our long flight across the universe will have been in vain," Adama replied. "We'll have eluded the Cylons only to be faced with another equally repressive enemy." "And a human one at that," Apollo added. "Which makes it so damn important," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "to question these prisoners from the Alliance." "We need to know a good deal more about the Alliance of Terra than we do now," agreed his father. "And about these Alliance Enforcers you and Starbuck captured and brought home to us." He spread his aged hands wide and shrugged. "The Council, however, is moving to release all the prisoners and have an unarmed peace envoy returned them to their outpost on Moonbase 14 Umbra. Starbuck popped to his feet, one hand raking through his straw-colored hair. "Commander, these Enforcer gents went out to Alpha Centauri to kill people, to wipe out the survivors of previous Alliance attacks. They're...Hades hole...they're war criminals." "I agree Lieutenant, but the Council doesn't see the situation that way at all," said Commander Adama. "You know what this reminds me of, father?" Apollo said. "The same kind of felgercarb that led to the destruction of our colonies at the hands of the Cylons." Adama made a fist of his powerful right hand and then thumped it on the desktop. "No! That will never happen again while I'm in charge! I'll move the very stars and planets themselves to prevent it!" "It's going to take the Council a while," Apollo pointed out, "to do anything at all about setting our prisoners loose. Meanwhile..." "Exactly," said Adama with a grim smile. "Meanwhile, I've ordered the fleet to full alert while we shuttle to the grid barge. I'm going to personally interrogate our Alliance guests." "That ought to be fun," remarked Starbuck. **************************************************** As the Galactica continued its majestic flight through space, a shuttle flashed out of a docking bay, aimed at the nearby grid barge, Starbuck and Apollo at its controls. The commander, sitting in the forward passenger seat, said, "According to Doctor Salik, these Alliance prisoners were born on a planet with an atmospheric density similar to what we're accustomed to." "Which means they're not natives of Terra," Apollo said, glancing up from his control dash. "Meaning they're probably from the faraway Moonbase 14 Umbra," put in Starbuck. "It's highly likely they are," said Commander Adama. "If so, they must be military screwups" "Why do you say that, Starbuck?" Adama's massive grey eyebrows rose. "Back in the Colonies, the only warriors who got outpost duty off in the space boondocks were the ones who'd messed up and stepped on the old man's toes so...whoops!" Starbuck gave a sheepish grin and shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth. "Guess I shouldn't talk about the old man's toes in front of the old man." "It's all right," said Adama smiling. "I know what you're getting at, but I think you're wrong." "So do I," said Apollo. "That destroyer ship they have might be primitive by our standards, but on their world it would be considered state-of-the-art. You don't entrust that kind of equipment to screwups." "A cheery thought," said Starbuck. "Must mean I'm not the screwup some people say, since I get to pilot such dandy spacecraft." Adama said, "I'm inclined to believe that these Enforcers are crack warriors, probably equivalent to Academy graduates such as yourselves. A totalitarian empire with such a long reach would likely place their best warriors on the frontier." "That makes good military sense," said Apollo. "On the frontier you would need men who can act on their own initiative." "Well, we're going to find out right quick," said Starbuck, as he flipped a toggle on the control dash. "Grid Barge, this is Galactica Shuttle Moondog requesting landing clearance and instructions." ******************************************** The door of the holding cell hissed open. Commander Adama halted on the threshold, looking into the small gray-walled room and at the wide-faced sneering man who occupied it. "You are Smith?" he said quietly in his deep voice. "It's Commandant Zachary Smith of the Alliance, you antiquated black-robed Neanderthal!" the man said, his partially slanted eyes narrowing malevolently. "Commandant Zachary Smith, I am Commander Adama of the Battlestar Galactica." He entered the cell, alone, and the heavy door eased shut behind him. Out in the dreary gray corridor, once the Security Guard had withdrawn to his post a few yards away, Lieutenant Starbuck moseyed up to the spyhole in Smith's cell door. "Did you hear what he just called the Commander? Man, give me a few milicentons alone with that guy and I'd kill him!" "The trouble is, he just might kill you first," said Captain Apollo. Inside the cell, Smith, rising and standing stiff demanded, "I demand, Commander, the immediate release of my crew and of our ship. We are not your citizens and you have absolutely no right to detain us." "Unfortunately, you are in no position to issue demands," Adama strode across the cell and stopped beside one of its two metal chairs. "However, if you'll take a seat and answer a few questions, I would be willing to discuss your eventual release." "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, barbarian!" Smith ignored the other chair and went over to sit on the edge of his bunk bed. "I would suggest you answer the questions I am about to ask, as it would be to your advantage." A sinister, tinny laugh erupted from Smith and he made a go-ahead gesture with his left hand. "I'd like to know," began Adama, watching the captive commandant, "why your destroyer was hunting down the Robinsons and their ship, the Jupiter 2, and also, why your Alliance attempted to wipe out just about every human being on Planet 4 of the Alpha Centauri sector?" "Ah, now that is something I would be glad to answer, Commander," said Smith, running his index finger through his graying straw-colored hair just like a comb. "Because the Robinsons and the colonists on Alpha-See-Four are Nationalists. The Nationalists and we are, at this time, in a state of war." "Very good. Now, please explain to me what the Nationalists are." "Fools and misguided dolts who wish to change the natural order of things." "You mean the natural order as dictated by the Alliance leadership?" said the commander. "The natural order of the universe simply is," Smith gave an impatient shake of his head. "It isn't something that can be debated. My, my, Commander Adama, you should be ashamed of yourself. A man in your position being ignorant of something so basic." "Obviously I need you to explain it to me a bit more fully," requested Adama. Smith stroked his blunt chin. "All life forms in the universe fall into two classifications," he began, eyes half closed. "They have many names...the predator and the prey... the intelligent and the ignorant...the victors and the vanquished. The terms that can be applied to the notion are endless. The point is, Commander that there are the pure and there are the impure. The Alliance represents the pure---those who are genetically perfect and passionately devoted to political ideology and the state." Adama didn't know why, but he was beginning to tremble. "How does the Alliance deal with those who are either disloyal or suffer from genetically-linked aliments, those whom you deem to be 'impure'?'" "It's really very simple, dear Adama," said Smith. "We dispose of them---with compassion for their families, I assure you." "So, in other words, the Alliance pretends to be God, deciding who lives and who dies?" "There is no such thing as God!" Smith roared, his face taking on the countenance of a snake---a very poisonous snake. "We were created to be the supreme arbiters of mankind---and of all life as far as it extends and in whatever form it exists, throughout the universe. Quite simply, my dear commander, that is our destiny." "Imperious Leader, anyone?" remarked Starbuck to Apollo. Nodding, Adama said. "Why do you feel so threatened by these Nationalists? Do they believe in liberty? Do they have a fairly open society? Do they elect leaders and have many free institutions? Or, is simply that they disagree with your theory?" "It's not a theory, you nefarious nincompoop!" said Commandant Smith, a shade of insane fury coloring his face. "It is a law of nature." "If the Alliance is the strongest power in the universe," said Adama evenly, "how do you explain the Galactica?" "Your battlestar, from what I've seen of it, is very impressive," admitted Smith. "However, it is but one warship. We will easily, and mercilessly, dispatch it." "If by that you mean you intend to engage the Galactica in combat, we will welcome the challenge. But it will no doubt take thousands of your destroyers to match our weaponry." "We have more than..." He paused, grinning wickedly and inscrutably. "I've answered quite enough of your questions, dear boy. Now I must insist that we discuss the release of my men." "I think---" The cell door slid open. "Commander Adama, your presence is requested at the Council, sir," said the Security Guard who stood in the opening. Frowning, the commander answered. "You may inform the Council that I'll be with them as soon as I conclude the interrogation." The guard took a very tentative step into the cell. "I regret to inform you, sir, that the Council has ordered this interrogation terminated," he said in a nervous tone. Starbuck came storming into the cell. "Since when does the Council give orders to the Commander?" "Lieutenant, I just do what they tell me to do." "Well, buster, I'm telling you to take a hike for yourself before you end up with---" "Starbuck!" said Adama. "I will not have grown men fighting in my presence!" "Yeah, but those nitwits can't go---" "Enough!" He nodded to the guard. "Inform the Council that I'm returning to the Galactica." The guard, obviously relieved, withdrew. "We'll continue our talk later, Commandant Smith." Smith clicked his booted heels together and gave a stiff bow. "I'm sure we will, ninny!" Adama stepped out into the corridor and the cell door eased shut. Apollo said, "You can't let the Council order you around this way, dammit!" "My warrior's oath holds me responsible to the Council, as does your own," he reminded his son. "That was before the Holocaust," said the infuriated Apollo. "We've been operating under martial law since then." "Sure, the fleet's been under your command since we fled the colonies," Starbuck added. "Those Council oafs can't boss you around like some cadet." "Unfortunately, they don't see things as you and I do," Adama said as he started moving along the metal-walled corridor. "Or, perhaps something has come up that we don't know about. At any rate, it's not something I want to debate while onboard a grid barge. Let's head for home." Apollo and Starbuck glanced at each other, shrugged, and followed him toward the docking bay. In one of the cells they passed, a man with heavy eyebrows that made a dark slash across his forehead was watching through the small view hole in his cell door. His name was Baltar and right now there was a crooked smile touching his face. "What's the matter, Adama? Is there a serpent lurking in your paradise?" he muttered to himself. "No matter. Whatever it is that is troubling you now pales before what is to come." ***************************************************** Chapter Twenty-Eight: Conspiracy And Idiocy The aircirc system in the grid barge commissary hummed with a low metallic drone. The smells and scents of the food being served swirled in the air and then quickly faded. Baltar, glancing carefully at the security guards stationed around the long, gray room, took his bowl of bluish stew and went weaving his way among the low tables where prisoners from all corners of the universe sat eating their day's-end meal. At the far side of the dining room he halted before a table at which half a dozen men sat silently eating. They were broad shouldered, lavender skinned, with flared noses, shaggy eyebrows and large pointed ears. They paid Baltar not the slightest bit of attention. "Mind if I join you, Ditko?" he asked the man nearest him. Ditko continued spooning stew into his mouth, saying nothing. After hesitating for several seconds, Baltar seated himself across from Ditko. "You're all aware of who I am, of course?" They all went on eating for a micron. Then the youngest of the purple-skinned trio said, "I know what you are: an infidel, just like everyone else in here!" The trio laughed at the young compatriot's wit. Baltar coughed, ignored the youth's inappropriate remark, rubbed his thumb along the handle of his spoon, and shifted on the bench. "I am Baltar," he announced quietly. "A very powerful man, ally of the Cylons." Ditko reached for the flavor enhancer cruet. He sprinkled some into his bowl of stew. "I know who you are," continued Baltar after a moment. "I know, unlike the fools who're serving as your jailers, some of the abilities of the men from your particular planet." Ditko glanced up at him for perhaps a second, but said nothing. Resting both elbows on the table, Baltar said, "I'm also aware of what you're planning." This time, Ditko looked across from him for at least ten microns. After taking a careful look at the nearest guard, Baltar began eating. He had to appear as though he were simply eating his meal. "I know why you haven't tried it yet," he said between mouthfuls. "Yes, you can break out of your holding pens, but what then? Where will you go? How can you avoid being pursued?" He took another spoonful of stew. "You don't have enough answers. But I do." Ditko placed his spoon carefully down beside his bowl. "Speak your piece," he requested, his deep, guttural voice as dry as the stony deserts of his native planet. "You see those prisoners three tables away?" "I have heard their leader's name is Smith. What of it?" Nodding, Baltar told him. "These are not ordinary gents. They are soldiers of an Alliance that, in this part of the universe, is as powerful as my Cylon friends." Ditko said, "This has nothing to do with us. Why do you mention it ?" "Commandant Smith and his crew will be, very soon now, transferred to the Galactica." "How do you know this?" "I have...um...certain sources of information," he replied, smiling smugly. "Now, then, Ditko. When the shuttle comes for them, we'll make our break." "You presume much to speak of 'we.'" Baltar said. "But that's part of the deal. Without my information, you're helpless." "I would hear more," invited Ditko in his rumbling voice. "We take over the shuttle and use it to make our escape." "And what of the viper ships? Won't they chase us?" "I know how to handle them," Baltar assured him. "When we reach the Alliance, we'll be treated very well. You see, I know much that the Alliance will be glad to know. About the Galactica, her strengths, her weaknesses. I also know a good deal about Commander Adama." He smiled, nodding his head. "Yes, I will be treated royally, as will all who side with me. Do we work together, Ditko?" He said, "Your record, to date, doesn't inspire great confidence, Baltar. You are, after all, a prisoner on this grid barge, as are we." "Being captured was not my fault. Those under men simply didn't follow their orders." Ditko eyed him for a few silent microns. "No human orders us around and lives to brag about it. My people serve no one but Ullah!" "Order you around? Oh, no. I wouldn't dream of any such thing," he said, head bobbing up and down and down in a reassuring way. "We are to be friends, all equals in this." "Good," Ditko told him. "Then we can work with you. You had better be sure nothing goes wrong." "Nothing will, I assure you." Ditko said, "When the time comes to escape, we will seem to die." "Yes, I'm aware that you have the ability to feign---" "We will talk of this again later," Ditko returned to his stew. ******************************************************* In a shadowy corner of the vast Galactica Council chamber, Starbuck leaned toward Apollo to remark, "I don't get these shenanigans at all." "Hush up, good buddy," the captain advised, "and listen." "I'm listening, but it still doesn't make sense." At the table, with nearly the full Council in attendance, Sire Domra was addressing Commander Adama in surprisingly cordial terms. "...The time is long overdue for us to honor you for your brilliant leadership in eluding the Cylons," he was saying. "You, more than any other individual, are responsible for our survival. And so the Council has decided to honor you with an award equal to your impressive achievement. An honor, I might add, that has not been bestowed on a living colonist in over a millennium." Beaming, he lifted an ornate medal from the top of the table. "Adama, we are proud to give you the Star of Kobol." All the other Council members rose to their feet, applauding. Over in the shadows, Starbuck jumped up too, applauding vigorously. "About time these nitwits did something sensible," he said. Then he noticed that Apollo was sitting with arms folded. "Hey, what gives, good buddy? You don't seem too jolly about the honor they're heaping on your pop?" "Neither does he," said Apollo. Adama had risen and was holding up his hand for silence. Slowly, the applause did, the members sat again. "I am, it goes without saying, deeply honored," the commander said. "I sorry, but I must refuse." Domra, his Council robes fluttering, got up. "You, surely don't mean that." "Sire Domra, I mean what I say," went on Adama. "This is not the time for pomp and circumstance. Our quest is not over; the danger is still great. I don't know if this Terra is the Earth we seek or not. I do know it is controlled by humans who are as ruthless and oppressive as the Cylons." Midway along the table, a handsome blonde woman of some forty yahrens said, "I think the vision you offer, Adama, is the dark view of a warrior. It's understandable that you'd feel this way, yet yours is not necessarily the realistic view." Adama told her, "Siress Sybilla, those Alliance Enforcers are as hostile as any Cylons we have encountered." "Perhaps," said the woman, "because they were greeted with laser pistols and not open arms." "Excuse me, Siress, but they were the ones who greeted us with drawn weapons, damn it." Apollo was on his feet now, angry. "Or maybe you'd like me to bring John Robinson over from Alpha Centauri to testify before you people about the cruelty of his nation's enemies." "Captain, you are not here to address this Council, and I doubt very seriously we would be interested in anything this---John Robinson---has to say," warned Domra. "In fact, I have no idea why you and your military cohort are here at all." "They are here at my orders to report in person on the Alliance," said Adama, "since the Council seems to have ignored their written report." "We haven't ignored it, Adama," said Sybilla. "We simply don't agree with it. It's a military evaluation, not a civilian one." Clearing his throat, Domra said, "I might also mention, Commander, that I've met with Commandant Smith and found him willing to negotiate a peace envoy to Moonbase 14 Umbra." "I'm sure he was more than willing," said Adama. "We called this session to honor you," reminded Domra, settling uneasily back into his chair. "Not to argue with you." "I don't treat you as a fool," Adama told him, "so don't treat me as one, Domra. You're here to retire me." "That's far from the point." "Just tell me what other motions were passed in my absence." "Okay, Commander, you're being blunt, so will I," said Sybilla. "We have voted an end to the emergency declared when the Cylons destroyed our colonies. From this centon forward, we are reverting to Council control of the fleet. Naturally, you'll retain your vote on the Council, and command of the Galactica." "I was wrong," muttered Starbuck in his corner. "They're bigger nitwits than ever." "I had a feeling something like this was on the horizon," said Apollo. At the Council table, Siress Sybilla said, "From now on, Commander, a civilian member of the Council will assist you in order to assure us that our edicts are implemented properly." Adama asked, "And who is to be my...aide?" She inclined her head toward him, smiling. "I have that honor," she replied. ******************************************************* Lieutenant Starbuck had an extra bounce in his walk, buoyed by the anger that boiled like oil within him. "You should've told them where they could stuff their medal, Commander." Adama slowed and stopped in the corridor that led away from the Council chamber. "I understand how you feel, Lieutenant," he said quietly, "but that kind of talk has no place in my command." "But he's right," put in Apollo, anger showing in his voice. "Hobbling you with a civilian aide, that's crazy. Pretty soon they'll go even further and take the Galactica away from you." "You two are the finest warriors we have," said Commander Adama. "But you're forgetting your oath. We obey the civil government no matter what." Lieutenant Starbuck chomped on the end of his dead cigar for a few seconds. "Sorry, sir," he said finally. "But what do we do now?" Adama started talking again. "What warriors are expected to do," he answered. "Their jobs." ***************************************************** Chapter Twenty-Nine: They Died In Order To Survive Some of the prisoners shuffled and slouched as they returned to their cellblock from the grid barge mess hall. Commandant Smith and his men, however, moved in crisp military fashion, with shoulders thrown back and heads held high. Moving in their wake, surrounded by Ditko and his crew of renegades, Baltar smiled faintly to himself. From up ahead in the gray corridor, a buzzer sounded. The security guard stationed midway up the corridor crossed to the wall communicator and activated the response switch. "Grid Deck Epsilon," he said. "This is Control," said a voice out of the talkgrid. "The Alliance prisoners are to be moved out of the holding grid for transfer. At once." "Yes sir," The guard signaled the security man who was herding the prisoners. "They want the Alliance prisoners up on the holding grid right away." "Frak! They could've told us while we had 'em on Beta Deck," mumbled the man. "Okay, Smith, you and your buddies hold it right here. The rest of you prisoners, move on into your cells." Baltar slowed, glancing at Ditko. The purple-skinned man with the unkempt hair, shaggy mustache and beard gave a furtive nod. The man next to Ditko gasped, clutched at his chest and stumbled. He made a growling, moaning noise, arms and legs jerking. Then he fell to the metallic floor and was still. The guard who'd taken the message tugged out his laser gun. "Back off, the rest of you," he ordered the prisoners. "What in hellfire's the matter with him?" "Must be the chow," muttered someone down the line. "They say it'll kill anybody." Baltar was shaking his head from side to side, staring down at the fallen prisoner. "This man is seriously ill, sir," he told the approaching guard. "I'm afraid he may even be...dead." "Somebody make you a med-tech when I wasn't looking, Baltar? Stand aside." "Suppose some plague is loose on this barge," said Baltar. "We may all die and I for one am too young for that." "Shut up and back off!" The guard jabbed the air between him and Baltar with his firearm. Then he dropped to one knee beside the sprawled prisoner. "Hades hole! I can't even find a pulse on this guy." "C'mon," said another of the guards, edging nearer. "He's either faking it or he wants attention." "Sorry, but he's not breathing and there's not a flicker of a pulse." "You fool! It's a plague," cried Baltar. "We'll all catch it!" "Plague," muttered someone down at the end of the row of prisoners. The third guard said, "The rest of you get into Baltar's cell, here. We better get in touch with the Med Techs and---" "Another one!" cried Baltar as Ditko himself collapsed to his knees. Body jerking, the purple-skinned man tumbled over. He hit the corridor floor with a thumb and ceased to breathe. "What the frak is goin' on?" The kneeling guard reached out and felt Ditko's wrist. "He's dead, too." "Okay, okay," said the third guard. "Don't panic, Nexxus. We'll shunt these prisoners into a single cell and then---" "I'm not going into a cell with all of them!" insisted Baltar. "There's a highly contagious disease loose on this damn ship---they might contaminate me!" "Shut up!" suggested Nexxus, getting to his feet and pointing his gun at Baltar. Before the other two guards could begin moving the prisoners clear of the fallen man, another man dropped to the floor. Nexxus holstered his gun, spun his heel and ran for the wall communicator. "I'll get the Meds down here. We're going to need breathing gear, cardio-stimulators, the whole damn works!" The other two guards moved close to the three bodies. "What could have hit so many of them all at once?" said one of them. The other was crouching frowning over what seemed like Ditko's corpse. All at once Ditko's powerful hand swung up, catching the guard's gun hand and wrenching his weapon away from him. "Bizmullah! Strike, my brothers! Strike!" he cried. The other two "dead" men came back to life and tackled the second guard. The guard at the communicator reached for his holstered pistol, but before he could tug it out, two prisoners caught him. One kicked him hard in the midsection, sending him against the wall and producing a hollow thunk. Ditko efficiently broke the neck of the guard with whom he'd been struggling. Nodding, he arose with the dead man's gun in his hand. Baltar glanced around and saw that the other two guards were also dead. "Lord, that was fast," he said. "Not as fast as it should have been," Ditko said in his growling voice. "Detention has dulled our reflexes." ******************************************************* Colonel Tigh was uneasy. He kept glancing around the bridge of the Galactica, eyes moving from Adama in his command chair to Siress Sybilla, who hovered behind the chair, and then away again. "Stupid notion," he said under his breath. "Sticking him with a council nursemaid who simply sits around and nags!" "I beg your pardon, sir?" inquired a female junior officer who was standing nearby. "Were you addressing me?" "Hmm? Oh, no. I was just...praying." "Seems like a good time for it," Smiling faintly, she moved over to a readout panel. Sybilla rested one hand on the back of Commander Adama's chair. "I really think we'll e able to---" "Commander," barked the communicator in front of Adama. "The Council is requesting a shuttle to transfer prisoners from the grid barge to the Galactica." "Granted," said Adama. He swiveled around in his chair and beckoned to the black colonel. "Colonel Tigh, select four warriors to act as escort." "Yes sir," said Tigh, brightening some. "Just a micron, Colonel, if you would," said Sybilla. Tigh, frowning deeply, came over to them. "What?" "I don't see any need for a warrior escort," the handsome sires said. "I'd like you to reconsider that order, Adama." "You don't see the need?" Tigh took a step back in shock. "You want us to bring dangerous prisoners here without so much as one warrior to keep an eye on them?" "Easy, Tigh," cautioned Adama as he rose out of his chair. "Siress, I can't allow a shuttle to carry prisoners without taking precautions." "I realize that," she said, "but Council security will be quite sufficient." "Council security?" Colonel Tigh shook his head. "Council security couldn't even prevent an escape from the orphan ship!" "Colonel," said Adama, "you're going to give Siress Sybilla the impression we're not in an cooperative mood." He smiled briefly. "Very well, Council security will do. Assign Lieutenants Boomer and Sheba as shuttle pilots, Colonel." After a few microns, Tigh replied, "Very well. Whatever you say, Commander." He turned on his heels and walked off. "I think you'll realize," said Sybilla, "that you've made the wisest decision, Commander." "I wonder," he answered. ************************************************* Chapter Thirty-One: The Coming Storm Colonel Tigh paced the bridge. "The shuttle should've reported by now. Stroking his chin, Adama said, "I'm beginning to wonder why we haven't had any word from them since they docked on the grid barge." "Is this all that unusual?" asked Sybilla from her chair next to the commander's. "To put it mildly, Siress---yes," said Adama coldly. "Athena, contact the grid barge," he said into his speakermike. Five silent seconds went by, then Athena's voice informed him: "All communications between the Galactica and the grid barge are down, father." "You can't reach them at all?" "No sir." Frowning, the commander glanced at the pacing black colonel. "I don't like this," he said. From the far side of the bridge, Rigel said, "Commander, I'm in contact with our shuttle now." "Good," said Adama, turning to face her. "Is everything all right?" "Apparently so. Lieutenant Boomer is requesting landing clearance." After a relieved sigh, Adama said, "Very good. Clear them to land in Alpha Bay." "Very good, sir." Adama nodded at the sires. "I believe that's where the Council is waiting with open arms to greet our prisoners...I mean, guests." "That's right." A faint smile touched her lips. "Tigh, what's the security status of Landing Bay Alpha?" Crossing to him, Tigh answered, "There's only Council security personnel there." "Very well, notify Captain Apollo to take a score of warriors to reinforce the security personnel presently on site." "Commander," put in Sybilla. "I'll thank you to remember that the Council has forbidden your warriors to be present when they greet these Alliance representatives." "Do you not find it odd that all communications with the grid barge are out at the precise centon that we're transferring Commandant Smith and his men to the Galactica?" said Adama slowly and evenly. "This, certainly, isn't the first time communications have been out between ships?" "I will admit that it is not," said the commander. "And Lieutenant Boomer just now requested landing clearance." "He did indeed," granted Commander Adama. "I think you're both overreacting," she said firmly. "Now, to repeat, the Council simply will not tolerate warriors in that landing bay. I'm sorry." Tigh moved to the exit. "Commander, if you'll excuse me," he said, striving to keep the anger out of his voice. "My duty period was up over a centare ago. I think I need some air." "Colonel," Sybilla said to him, "if you decide to take your air on the landing bay, or order any other warriors there, I'll view it as an act of insubordination. Consider this your first, and only, warning." Tigh straightened, seemed to be counting under his breath. Finally, he said, "Is it okay if I retire to the Officer's Club?" "You may retire any where you wish," she answered. "Anywhere but the landing bay." "Understood," Tigh said. He pivoted on his heel and left the bridge. Adama steepled his fingers. "Tigh's a good man," he told the sires. "I don't think you really appreciate that." "I do, Adama," she said. "You're all good men and good warriors. But what we need at the moment are good diplomats." ***************************************************** Starbuck lit his cigar, rested an elbow on the table and let his gaze drift around the Officer's Club area of the Galactica. "I'm working on a hunch," he said. "About that silvery blonde across the room?" asked Apollo, tapping his finger on the side of his ambrosia tankard. "Nope, this is a serious hunch," Starbuck said, exhaling smoke. "I get 'em now and then. Like the time I knew that lady space pirate's husband was coming back to their satellite base two days earlier than she said he would." "See? It does have to do with women." "The point is: if you'll cease heckling me and attend to what I'm saying, old chum, that I often get hunches of trouble coming." "So whose husband is on your tail now?" Removing the cigar from between his teeth, Lieutenant Starbuck used it to point to the captain. "You've been hanging around with too many frivolous folks," he said. "Consequently, you're incapable of serious chitchat. Apollo folded his hands on the tabletop. "I'm in a deadly serious mood, old buddy. Continue." "Well, I got a feeling trouble's a-brewing," said Starbuck, taking another look around. "It has something to do with that Commandant Smith. I dunno, but---you just know he's going to cause trouble somehow. He's got the word 'trouble' written all over him. And they're bringing him and his damn Alliance thugs onboard our battlestar." "I know what you mean," Apollo said. "That man absolutely radiates arrogance." "But this feeling tells me...Oh, greetings, Colonel. Doing a little slumming?" Colonel Tigh was standing beside their table. "Mind if I join you guys?" "No, Colonel," said Starbuck, indicating the empty chair, a slight look of disbelief on his face. "Park it." "Thanks." The colonel signaled the bar. "Bring me a double of whatever these fellows are having," he called. Apollo unfolded his hands and eyed the colonel. "You're not a frequenter of this place," he said. "Fact is, we never see you hereabouts unless you've dashed in to drag us away for some mission or other." "I feel in need of a drink," said Tigh. Starbuck nodded. "I told you strange things were afoot," he said to Apollo. "What's the matter, colonel? I've never seen you like this before." "Even the commander's aide is entitled to drink on occasion," said the colonel, pausing to take his drink from the bar droid. "Thanks. And the occasion happens to be that woman." "Siress Sybilla?" asked Apollo. "That's the one." "Do I detect a feeling of anger, Colonel?" said Apollo. "Don't be. Personally, I think she's very attractive. In fact, she and my father make a handsome couple." "I don't know why we're putting up with her," said Tigh. "They may look splendid, side by side, but she's still a royal pain in the backside." "I'll drink to that," Starbuck roared with laughter. "Although she's only doing what that dippy Council tells her to do. Part of the price we all have to pay in order to keep ourselves one step ahead of the Cylons. It goes with the territory." Tigh finished off his mug of Ambrosa and slammed it down on the table. "Better start mixing me another one of these," he ordered. "Don't you think one of those is enough, Colonel?" said Apollo. "No, captain, I don't think so." The bartending droid arrived with Tigh's fresh mug of Ambrosa. He picked up the empty mug and started to take it away. "Where was I?" "Complaining about the Council." "Well, they've let that damn Sybilla woman just about take even the bar droid over. "Thanks." Tigh took a deep drink from his mug. "The Council itself is waiting on Landing Bay Alpha to give those captured Sentries a cordial welcome aboard." "We know," said Apollo quietly. After finishing off new drink, Tigh said, "It gets worse: all communications with the grid barge are blacked out at this time. We lost contact right after our shuttle headed for home." "Doesn't sound good," said Apollo, sitting up. "Well, Siress Sybilla doesn't think it's anything to be concerned over. Starbuck asked, "The commander ordered warriors to the bay, didn't he?" "He wanted to, but Sybilla overruled him," answered Tigh. "And she practically told me I'd be brought before a military tribunal if I took any warriors there on my own." Starbuck got to his feet. "Sounds like a pretty good time to take a stroll, old chum." Apollo got to his feet. "You bet it is." Tigh asked, "It's not something I said, is it?" Shaking his head, Starbuck said, "To be absolutely frank, Colonel, we feel a little uneasy with drinking with one of Galactica's executive officers. You can understand." Tigh smiled as the two men went striding out. "Perfectly," he said. ************************************************ Chapter Thirty-Two: Terrorism! The shuttle was cruising toward the Galactica. Stationed behind Boomer and Sheba were two Alliance Sentries, both armed. Baltar was also standing nearby, smiling. "You've done very well so far, Lieutenant Boomer," he said. "Yeah, thanks. I appreciate your comments." "There's no need to be bitter," said Baltar, stroking the barrel of his lasergun. "I won, you lost." "We've got a saying where I hail from, that you ain't won till you pick up the chips, Baltar," said Boomer, hunching slightly in his chair as he guided the shuttlecraft to the docking area of the battlestar. "I admire your false bravado," said Baltar, "but the reality of your situation remains unchanged." "Even you aren't crazy enough to think you can get away with this, are you?" said Sheba. "I've done quite well thus far," reminded Baltar, gesturing at the young woman with his pistol. "A shuttle's not a battlestar," she told him. Tapping Boomer over the shoulder with his gunbarrel, Baltar instructed him, "We want a perfectly normal landing, Lieutenant." "That's what you'll get." "Yes, I wouldn't want anything to go wrong and cause me to kill you before I have to." He nodded at Boomer's broad back and turned away. Baltar made his way across the cabin, along a narrow corridor and into the passenger sector of the ship. "We'll be landing very soon now," he told Commandant Smith. Smith was at a porthole, watching the Galactica loom ever larger. "I can see that," he said. "Now, the micron the hatch opens, you and your men will take care of all the guards," said Baltar. "Take as many hostages as possible." Turning to face him, the beak-nosed commandant said, "You need not worry, Baltar. We are quite experienced in such operations." "Yes, I'm sure you are," said Baltar, edging over to where the purple-skinned Ditko stood with folded arms, the sleeves of his djellaba hanging limply over his wrists. "You and your men, Ditko, will follow me to the lift. We'll move directly to the bridge." Ditko nodded. "Once we control the bridge..." "We control the Galactica," finished Baltar. ****************************************************** Smoothing his robes, Sire Domra moved in stately fashion across the landing bay. Several members of the Council were with him. "You guards had best stay to the rear," he instructed the two Council security men who were with them. "We don't want to give them even the faintest cause for uneasiness." The guards pressed back against one metallic wall. Domra positioned himself near the entry door the Alliance Sentries would be coming through at any moment. "We all must remember," he said to his fellow Council members, "that these visitors have suffered grave indignities at the hands of our own warriors. It's only natural to expect them to be somewhat uneasy." The entry door whooshed open and Commandant Smith and seven of his men came swiftly through. "Welcome to..." Then Domra noticed that they were all holding weapons. "Why do you bear arms?" "Be still, you arrogant aristocrat!" Smith prodded the Councilman in his midsection with the barrel of his weapon. "Get against the wall with the others." Smith's men had already surrounded the rest of the Council and disarmed the two guards. "You're making a grave mistake," Domra insisted. "We are your friends!" "For now, my 'friend,' I want you and the rest of these blithering bumpkins to climb aboard that shuttle out there," ordered Smith, prodding him again. "But---" "Get going!" Smith smashed him across the forehead with the barrel of his gun. ******************************************************* Lieutenant Starbuck said, "My hunch is getting stronger. Something not so good is going to happen." "Maybe we can prevent that," said Apollo. The two friends were moving along a corridor toward the elevator that would take them to Alpha Bay. "The more I see of diplomacy," observed Starbuck, "the more I think a poke in the nose is a much smarter way of making your point." "Violence isn't always the answer either, good buddy," said Apollo. They rounded a bend in the corridor just as the doors of the turbolift whispered open. Starbuck said, "Yeah, but...Oh frak! What have we got here?" Baltar and several of Ditko's men had come lurching out of the turbolift cage and into the corridor. "Hit the deck!" advised Apollo, spinning on his heel and diving back around the bend. Starbuck's lasergun was in his hand and, as he dashed for cover, he sent a beam flying in the direction of the startled Baltar. The purple-skinned men, meantime, raised their maula-encased fists and fired their projectiles in the direction of the two battlestar warriors. "Looks like the reception committee didn't do too well," said Starbuck as he sent more firepower toward the turbolift area. "We've got to keep these guys pinned down here." "I was just thinking the same thing, old chum." Baltar cried, "Back inside the cage! Quickly, before they destroy us!" "Keep up the barrage," said Apollo, backing for the nearest wall communicator. "I'll get some reinforcements." "Inside!" said Baltar, herding them back into the elevator. "Now, the doors...shut the damn doors!" Grinning, Starbuck edged forward, lasergun firing. "Welcome aboard, Baltar!" The turbolift doors smacked shut. ******************************************************* Sybilla sat frowning. "I don't understand why we haven't heard anything from the Council," she said, eying the scanner screen in front of her. "Perhaps they're still busy shaking hands with our guests," said Commander Adama. "I know you don't approve of our actions, Adama, but in time you'll understand." "Bridge!" came Apollo's voice out of a speaker. "This is Captain Apollo." "What is it?" asked his father. "Go ahead." "Landing Bay Alpha is under attack," said Apollo. "Extent of forces unknown. Starbuck and I are holding the turbolift in Beta corridor. We could use a little help." "At once," said Adama. "Is it the Alliance Sentries?" "Could be," answered his son. "But we also have our old pal Baltar to contend with, along with a gang of rag-headed louts." "Baltar," said Adama slowly. He broke the connection with the captain, flipped another talkswitch. "Launch Red Squadron. They are to prevent any ship from launching without my approval." He turned on another mike. "Have Fleet security cover all hatches above, below and around Launch Bay Alpha." "Yes sir," answered a speakerbox. "And get Colonel Tigh up to the bridge at once." Siress Sybilla had slumped in her chair. "I don't quite," she said in a shaky voice, "understand what's happened." Adama rose slowly to his feet. "Your Alliance friends seem to have captured the entire Council and taken over Landing Bay Alpha," he told her. "That's what's happened." Her breath sighed out. "But surely they understand that we wanted only to be friendly." "Baltar's a tough fellow to make friends with," said Apollo as he came into the room. "Yep, not cordial at all," added Starbuck, pausing to show Adama a maula projectile he'd picked up off the floor, one that had slightly nicked his trousers. Apollo walked to his father's side. "Somehow Baltar and the Alliance gang have joined forces," he explained. "Looks like they recruited a few other ne'er-do-wells from the grid barge as well." "And they definitely have the Council?" "That seems likely, yes." Lieutenant Starbuck rested his backside against a readout screen. "You know, if Colonel Tigh hadn't warned us about what might be coming up, Baltar and his buddies would've been rampaging all over this bridge right now." Adama asked, "Where is Tigh?" The colonel came through a far door. "Reporting for duty," he said. The crackling whine of launching viper ships could be heard now. "Red Squadron launched, Commander," said Rigel from her post. Siress Sybilla was watching Tigh. "Colonel," she said in a quiet voice. "I'm sorry. I apparently made a mistake." After a few seconds the black colonel said, "You bet you made a mistake." ******************************************************* The cockpit of the docked shuttle was crowded. Baltar, a satisfied smile spread across his face, was seated in front of the communications screen. "Be quick about it," he was saying. "Put me through to the bridge." The scanner flickered, and then Adama's stern face appeared. "Ah, my dear Adama," said Baltar with mock concern, "you don't look at all well." "Baltar, you have exactly one centon to lay down your weapons and surrender." Baltar laughed. "You apparently don't yet comprehend the situation," he said. "I am in charge of things. I tell you what is to be done." He motioned to Ditko, who dragged the shivering Sire Domra within scanner range. "Adama, they're attaching solenite charges to the outer hull of this shuttle," he said in an unsteady voice. "They'll kill us all if you don't do what he says." Smiling even more broadly, Baltar leaned forward. "Here are your orders, Commander Adama," he said. "Firstly, you are to release the two Cylon pilots who flew me here originally. Along with them you'll turn loose my fighter ship. Further, you will return the Alliance Destroyer ship to my friends." "Anything more?" asked Adama. "When my friends and I are all safely aboard our ships, the shuttle will launch. Followed by the Destroyer ship and finally my fighter," continued Baltar. "If this shuttle makes any attempt to return before we are in orbit at Moonbase 14 Umbra, or if one single viper pursues us, then I press a button and the shuttle and everyone aboard will be destroyed." He snapped his fingers. "Like that, in an instant." "And once you reach Moonbase 14 Umbra?" "The shuttle, of course, will be free to return you here, Commander." Adama said, "You don't really think I believe you, Baltar? Or trust you?" With a shrug, Baltar replied, "Do you really have a choice, old friend? I think not. Oh, and if my demands are not met, all of them, within one centare...then I'll kill these hostages one by one. Something I'm sure you won't want to happen." Boomer pulled free of the sentry who was holding him. "He's going to kill us anyway, Commander," he shouted. "Take 'em right now!" Ditko reached out and hit him hard, with the side of his hairy purple hand. Boomer went slack, dropped to his knees and toppled over onto the metallic floor. "One centare, Commander," repeated Baltar and broke off the connection. ********************************************* Chapter Thirty-Three: Crisis And Adaptation Doctor Wilker was shaking his head from side to side as he hurried along the pale green corridor. "I don't know if we can return these Cylons to him at all," he said. Starbuck and Apollo were walking briskly beside him. "What do you mean?" asked the captain. "We have to have them, to make it look like we're going along with him." "Captain, give me a chance to explain the situation," the doctor said. "I've deactivated these Cylons who were escorting Baltar when we captured him." "Well if you deactivated them, you can damn well reactivate them," said Starbuck. Wilker stopped before a hatch, one hand on the lever. "It's not that simple, Lieutenant," he said, shaking his head again. "You see, I was hoping to be able to find ways of reprogramming these mechanical men, especially from long distances, by using coded laser beams, perhaps." "Hacking into their systems, you mean?" Apollo asked. "More or less. I want to be able to cancel out their ability to fire on our ships. In time, maybe I could instruct them to---" "We don't have time for a tech lecture," said Starbuck. "We want to reactivate these snitrods before Baltar starts killing hostages." Sighing, the lanky doctor opened the hatch and crossed over into his lab. "Let me show you what I mean, gentlemen." The two warriors followed him across a long, pale room. "Oh damn, Wilker! Starbuck said, taking his cold cigar from between his teeth and staring down at the worktable where the doctor had halted. "What have you done?" The two Cylons were spread out there. "Jigsaw puzzles," said Apollo, picking up a twist of wire at random. "You took 'em apart." Nodding, Wilker said, "Exactly what I've been trying to explain." He gestured at the array of wires, tubes, chips, metal casings and assorted electronic sprawl. The Cylon heads were nearly intact. Starbuck hefted one off the table, looked it in the eye. "There's an old spaceman's axiom, doc," he said, "which I just now made up, stating that if you can take an android apart you can also put it back together." "Put them together in less than a centare?" Doctor Wilker backed off from the table. "I don't think that's possible." "We'll help you," offered Starbuck. "I'm a rather handy fellow. You ought to see me make the vidball machine up in the rec lounge pay off in extra cubits." "Doctor Wilker," said Apollo, "how far did you get in figuring out how to reprogram these fellows?" "I still don't think I can do it at a distance," he answered. "Although I now understand the basic structure of a Cylon." "I wasn't thinking of long distance work," said Apollo, knuckling his chin thoughtfully. "I was wondering if you could maybe change them so they'd do a few things Baltar wasn't expecting." "It's theoretically possible, I suppose," said Wilker, "but considering the time we have, I---" "Let's give it a try," urged Apollo. ******************************************************* Adama moved along the row of scanner screens that showed what was going on down in the landing bay that was under siege. "There's the Alliance Destroyer being moved into the bay now," he observed. "How much time do we have left?" "A bit less than a half centare," answered Colonel Tigh. "What about the Cylon fighter?" "It's already in the bay," said the colonel. Turning his back on the screens, Adama said, "Is there any way of reaching those charges once the shuttle is spaceorne?" "None," said Tigh, shaking his head. "There are no vacc suits in the shuttle." Siress Sybilla had left her chair. "Then we have no choice but to assault the bay," she said, "and make damn sure we defuse those charges before the shuttle is launched." Eyebrows rising, Commander Adama gazed at her. "Did I hear you rightly?" he asked. "You're suggesting we take an aggressive action to rescue our people?" "Commander, even though I'm a civilian in your eyes, I'm not stupid," she told him. "We both know that Baltar has no intention of freeing those hostages. He'll either force them to land on Moonbase 14 Umbra or kill them once he's free." "Yes, that's what I believe he'll do," agreed the commander. "Then the only real question is," she said, "when to attack and how to insure the maximum success." Still a bit surprised, Adama said, "We have to hit them while they're still transferring from the shuttle to their ships. They'll be in the open and our people will be in the shuttle." "Agreed," said Sybilla. Turning again toward the colonel, Commander Adama asked, "Is everyone in position?" Tigh indicated another row of scanner screens. "As you see, sir, the assault teams are ready to hit the landing bay from three sides at once." Adama stroked his chin. "What do our demolition experts think?" "They feel they ought to be able to completely disarm those charges in thirty microns or less," replied Tigh. "Once they reach them, that is." Siress Sybilla brushed her hair back from her forehead. "What are the odds of them accomplishing that before Baltar can set off the charges?" Tigh rubbed his fingertips across the palm of his other hand. "It's going to depend on how stunned he is by our attack," he said. "He'll be busy taking cover himself and he won't want to get caught in the explosions." "Do you have a computer estimate of the odds?" asked Adama. "Computer estimates seventy-thirty, in Baltar's favor," said the colonel. "And I think it's being a shade optimistic." ********************************************** Chapter Thirty-Four: "We Need More Time To Meet Your Demands, Baltar" Baltar rubbed his hands nervously together, watching two of Commandant Smith's men attach the last of the explosive charges to the hull of the shuttle. The captive craft was ringed with Sentries, armed and watchful. Smith said, "Your charges are all in place, my comrade." Nodding toward a launch area, Baltar said, "And your destroyer is ready to depart. Things are going very well." "I don't think so," croaked Ditko. "Your brilliant scheme to take over the entire battlestar failed." "We did suffer a setback, I will concede," said Baltar. "But we have everything else we demanded. Our ships are al-ready here and I'm sure they'll be delivering my Cylon pilots at any milicenton." Stroking his brown-gray hair, Smith said, "I find the sentimentality of a man like Commander Adama amazing. He would let us go free merely to save a few worthless hostages." "No, Smith," growled Ditko. "He will not let us go free." "Don't be ridiculous," said Baltar. "Adama must; I've left him no choice." "If you believe that," said Ditko, "you are an even bigger fool than I thought." "What do you mean?" "He is employing a tactic I have seen all too often in the tribal feuds on my home planet," said Ditko. "The shiekh of one tribe will command his warriors to attack a rival tribe when he's fooled them into thinking it safe to return to their own tents," he continued in his rumbling voice. "Once the land is unguarded, the shiekh's troops make their move." Smith said, "He's drawing a fairly good analogy, Comrade Baltar. They could try to apprehend us when we move to our ships, rescue the hostages when the shuttle is unattended." "Neither of you seems to understand how a man like Adama thinks," said Baltar. "He simply won't risk the slaughter of these hostages. "He must know you have no intention of letting them go," said Ditko with a raspy chuckle. "And if he knows that, then he's not risking anything by attacking us." "But I intend to let them go free," insisted Baltar. "Once we're safely away from here." "Whether you intend to or not is irrelevant," said the commandant. "Adama must believe you for our escape to be successful." "If he doesn't," said Ditko, "then we all die here." "No," said Baltar, running his tongue over his dry lips, "he'll believe me." ******************************************************* Apollo finished explaining things to his father. "It'll work," he concluded, sitting down on the edge of a chair. "The thing is, Doctor Wilker can't get those damn Cylons ready before the deadline." "Then we'll have to get Baltar to give us more time," Adama glanced at the nearest timescreen. "Yep, that's why I hopped up here to the bridge." Sybilla asked him, "Are you certain the Cylons can be augmented to betray him?" "Look, Siress, nothing's absolutely sure," said Apollo, glancing at the timescreen. "But with this we have a pretty good chance." "Let's see if we can stall Baltar." The commander flipped a talkswitch. ******************************************************* Baltar looked around at the Council members and other hostages in the rear compartment of the shuttle. He ran his tongue over his lips. "I want you all to understand," he said, a faintly pleading tone in his voice, "that I mean you no harm. The moment I am safe on Moonbase 14 Umbra, you'll all be free to return home." Sire Domra's Council robe was torn and smeared with dirt. Clearing his throat, he said. "Yes, yes, we...um...believe you." "You may have to convince Adama of that," said Baltar "Because I fear he---" "Baltar!" called Ditko from up in the ship's cockpit. "Excuse me," Baltar said to the hostages. "And keep in mind that no harm will come to you." He turned and made his way along the corridor to the nose of the shuttle. Boomer and Sheba were up there, watched over by two of Smith's men. Boomer was crouched against the wall, massaging his neck where Ditko had struck him. "What is it?" Baltar asked the purple-skinned man. Ditko pointed at the dash scanner screen. "See for yourself." Commander Adama's stern face showed on the screen. Licking his lips again, Baltar sat down in front of the screen. "About those hostages?" "We need more time," said the commander. "What?" "We need at least another centare before we---" "Why? So you can work out more plans to attack me?" "It has to do with your Cylons," explained Adama. "They had been deactivated and we are currently experiencing technical difficulties with them. I'm afraid we won't be able to activate them in time." "Liar! You're stalling, moving in warriors to attack me!" "That's not the case," Adama assured him. "It's simply that we need more time to meet your demands." "No," said Baltar. "I won't back down." "Listen to me, Baltar. Take me as a hostage, in exchange for one more centare." Baltar leaned back, looked up at Smith and then at Ditko. "Anyone care to venture an opinion?" "Accept," advised Ditko. "Take him." "If we have Adama," whispered Smith, "they won't dare attack us." "Yes," said Baltar, nodding. Facing the scanner screen once again, he said, "Very well, Commander. One more centare, in exchange for you." ********************************************** Chapter Thirty-Five: "They're Bringing Out Your Precious Cylons, Baltar" Starbuck remembered his cigar. Lighting up, he said, "Well, we've done it." Apollo was slowly circling the two standing Cylons. "What do you mean we, old buddy? All you did was drop things." "Sour sunfruits," said the puffing lieutenant. "Why, with these very fingers I wrought electronic miracles that few others could even dream of." "Rot is right," agreed Apollo. "Gentlemen," said the lean Doctor Wilker, "if I might run the final tests on our reactivated guests." The two mechanical men were completely assembled, standing in the center of the lab side by side. The overhead lights made their metallic bodies and conical heads glitter. Wilker moved to a position facing the two silent Cylons. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. "Yes," replied one. "Yes," replied the other. "Who am I?" "Doctor Wilker of the Battlestar Galactica," they answered in turn. "Very good," said the doctor, taking a few steps closer. "Now, tell me whose orders you obey." Starbuck held his cigar between his thumb and forefinger, watching the two Cylons anxiously. "We obey you," said one Cylon. "You are the Imperious Leader," said the other. Amused at the idea that these Cylons thought he was the Imperious Leader, Wilker said with a smile, "Very well. Now, let me tell you what you're to do once you're back inside your fighter ship. ******************************************************* The corridor was thick with armed warriors. Commander Adama, flanked by Tigh and Sybilla, walked purposefully along toward the entryway to the besieged bay. "As soon as the Cylons arrive in there," he was saying to the colonel, "Baltar and the others should move out of the shuttle and to their ships. That's when I'll try to contact you over the scanner." "Risky," said Tigh. "No one ever said it wasn't. If everything goes the way Apollo and Doctor Wilker think it will, then we'll be able to save all the hostages." "And lose the Alliance Sentries," said the colonel. "This is the safest way to do it," said Adama. "I know. It's just that..." He shrugged. "You two stop here. I'll go the rest of the way alone," Adama said as he neared the doorway. "There's something I forgot to mention while we were on the bridge," said Sybilla. "I'm going with you, Adama." "No, that's too dangerous. A good many things can go wrong." "Don't argue with me," she said. "Baltar may not even let you on board the shuttle. But I'm merely another member of the Council. He'll almost certainly toss me in with the others and I'll be able to fill them in on your plan. Otherwise, they might do something to foul it up." "No, it's far too dangerous." "I've no more time to discuss it." She moved off, walking through the doorway to the bay. Adama shook his head and followed her. ******************************************************* Baltar bowed, smiling smugly, and then pointed toward the passageway leading into the rear compartment of the captive shuttle. "So nice of you and the charming lady to join us, Commander," he said. "Now, if you'll be obliging and join the others." "I'm assuming you haven't harmed the other hostages," Adama said, nodding toward the injured Lieutenant Boomer. "He's not seriously hurt," Baltar assured him. "And perhaps his experiences will teach him not to be so impetuous next time." "I'd like to teach you a little something," muttered Boomer. Gesturing again at the passageway, Baltar urged, "Move along, if you will." The commander took Sybilla's arm and they walked into the compartment where the hostages were. "You see, dear friend," said Baltar when they were among the Council prisoners, "a few of them are a bit worse for wear, but no serious harm has been done them." "Adama," exclaimed the bedraggled Domra, "why are you and Sybilla here?" "All will be explained shortly," promised Commander Adama. "Ah, forgive me for not informing you earlier," said Baltar as he backed toward the exit. "Your noble commander has offered himself as a hostage, to buy more time." "Admirable," said the sire. "And yet---foolish." "Let me remind you all," said the still smiling Baltar, "that if my Cylons are not delivered to me very soon, all of you shall die." Bowing, he left them. ******************************************************* Commandant Smith narrowed his beady eyes. "Ah, there they are," he said, pointing out from the open doorway. "They're bringing out your precious Cylons, Baltar." Joining him at the open shuttle hatchway, Baltar said, "You see, they're giving in to us on every count." Pivoting on his booted heel, Smith addressed his men in the cockpit. "We'll now join the rest of our Sentries in our Destroyer. Ditko, have your men keep this shuttle covered from the outside until we're aboard and then join us." "Understood," croaked the purple-skinned man. Baltar, crouching in the hatchway, called out to the mechanical men. "Wait there, I'll be with you in a moment." "By your command," the Cylons responded in chorus. He hastened to the control dash, grabbing the small remote control detonating device that had been resting there. Then he hurried to the prisoner's compartment. Holding the detonator high, he said, "I'm leaving you now, dear friends. Commandant Smith's ship is set to launch first. Then this shuttle, which has been on automatic control, will follow. I'll bring up the rear in my fighter ship with...By the way, thank you so much for returning my Cylons to me, Adama." Returning the mock bow, the commander replied, "The pleasure was all mine, Baltar." "You'll be left here unguarded for a few moments," said Baltar, the detonator still held high. "Let me remind you, though that if you make a single wrong move, I'll use this handy little gadget to begin setting off the explosive charges. They're rigged so that the ones attached to this compartment will go off first. Keep that in mind." Smiling, he left them. **************************************************** Chapter Thirty-Six: Baltar Brought To His Knees With an enormous whine, the Alliance Destroyer went roaring out of the landing bay and into space, the crew tucked away in their freezing tubes, in suspended animation." Sitting in the forward passenger seat of his fighter, Baltar watched and chuckled with satisfaction. "Everything's going exactly as I planned," he said. "Exactly, sir," agreed one of the Cylons in his droning voice. He was seated in the number one pilot seat. The remote control detonator rested on the dash within reach of Baltar's hand. "What's delaying the shuttle? We can't depart until they're free and clear." "The shuttle is moving into launch position now," pointed out the second Cylon, who occupied the number two pilot seat. "Ah yes, so I see," Baltar's palms gave off a fain rasping sound as he rubbed his hands together. He sat, a contented smile on his face, watching the shuttle roll into the launching area. The craft shivered; then fire crackled from its tail and it was zooming free of the Galactica. "Now, it's our turn," said Baltar. "Move our fighter over to the launch area." "Not yet, Commander Baltar," droned the Cylon nearest him. "Not yet? What the devil do you---" "Certain things must be attended to first." The Cylon's hand snapped out, snatching up the detonator. "You son of a daggit!" Baltar's hand swung down toward his holstered lasergun. But the second Cylon had left his seat. Before Baltar's fingers closed around the gun barrel, the mechanical man was grabbing his wrist. "Idiot," cried Baltar as the pain went zigzagging up his arm. "You're to obey me. You've been programmed to do that!" The Cylon lifted Baltar's weapon from out of its holster, tossed it far across the cockpit. "That is no longer true, sir." "What are you babbling about?" The other Cylon had by now succeeded in dismantling the detonator. "We've been reprogrammed, sir," he explained. "So, I've been double-crossed by Adama after all." "Yes, such is the case, sir." The Cylon dropped the ruined detonator to the floor and activated a toggle. The hatch whooshed open. "I won't wish you a safe journey, Baltar," said Starbuck as he came bounding into the cockpit with his pistol drawn, "since you ain't going anyplace. Except back to the grid barge." "Frak! I was a fool to have trusted any of you." Baltar's shoulders slumped. "You forget," said Apollo, who'd followed the lieutenant into the ship, "that we know a few tricks ourselves." "Dirty tricks," added Starbuck with a grin. ******************************************************* Sire Domra's face appeared on the scanner screen. "Now that we're all safely back aboard the Galactica, Commander," he began, "the Council has taken a vote." "Have you?" said Adama. "We've decided to rescind our edict and extend your emergency powers. You are once again in full command of the battlestar and the rest of the fleet," Domra told him. "The vote, I might add, was unanimous." "That's most gratifying." "I'd also like to add...Well, I admire the way you put your own life in jeopardy to help us. And...that's all for now, Commander." Looking a bit embarrassed, the Council member signed off. Adama settled back in his chair, watching the blank screen thoughtfully. "Things certainly have changed," he remarked. Colonel Tigh was seated nearby. "Let's enjoy the situation while we can," he said. "The Council's scared now, but once their goose bumps go down, they'll start riding us again." "Probably so," said Adama. "Right now, however, I have other things on my mind." "Such as the Alliance Destroyer that got away." "That we allowed to get away," corrected the commander. "I know. We had to let them escape in order to grab Baltar and keep him from blowing up the shuttle." "And I'm happy to say it worked," said the commander. "We've already launched a Recon Patrol to track them to their base on Moonbase 14 Umbra." "Then we'll find out the strength of the Alliance on that outpost." "I hope to find a good deal out about this Alliance." Adama stretched up out of his chair. "If you'll take over on the bridge, Tigh, I believe I'll return to my quarters for a rest." "I didn't think you knew how." "Now and then," admitted Adama, walking away. ************************************************ Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Ship Of Lights The Blue Squadron was trailing just behind the Alliance Destroyer, scouting a system of six planets along the way. The innermost one was just a near-molten rock; the second was swathed in toxic gases. The outermost was a gargantuan gas-giant; the next a skull of a world forever trapped in a frozen ball of stone and sporting only bare wisps of frozen methane for an atmosphere. Apollo found planets three and four to be the only interesting ones here. Planet Four was cold and rugged, but it had a breathable atmosphere of sufficient pressure to allow Human life. Inhospitable, it might nonetheless make a home with a lot of work. There were warm, green, wide seas and tranquil forests along the equator. And inhabitants. A race of sentient felinoid beings, they lived in cities, numbered about 400 million, and had just invented the radio. There were also mining works all across one of the uninhabited continents, populated by, so the scanners said, the race called the Reti in the Destroyer's database. Starbuck wanted to know of they could ask permission to land, but Apollo nixed the idea. Obviously, no one from the fleet could settle here. Disappointed, Apollo went into his sleep period. Oh well, there was always Earth. ******************************************************* He awakened far out in space, with an immense, dark silence all around him. Apollo straightened up, his sleep period over, and checked the control dash of his viper. "Rise and shine, fellas," came Starbuck's voice from out of the talkbox. "Give a look at your scanner screen, old chum." The Alliance Destroyer, a distant dot, was showing on the screen. "We've sighted 'em," said Apollo. "While you were in dreamland. Your orders, skipper?" Apollo glanced out of his cockpit at the viper ships hurtling along in formation with his. "Attention Blue Squadron," he said into the talkmike of his helmet. "This is Flight Leader Apollo. We now have Smith's Destroyer on the scanner. We'll follow those daggits." He paused. "But hear this. I do not, repeat: do not want the ship overtaken. For one thing, our orders are to follow them to Moonbase 14 Umbra. For another, Doctor Wilker found out, when he examined the Destroyer, that it has laser trackable guns and carries missiles, some of them nuclear-tipped---if they fire at us, it's not out of the question they could blow us out of the sky. I don't think the defenses are automated, but let's not take any chances. Starbuck?" "Yo!" "Starbuck, you move out on point. Be careful, stay out of their range." "Gotcha!" replied Starbuck. "The rest of us'll begin to spread out on either flank of that Destroyer," continued Apollo. Boomer's voice inquired, "How come, sir?" "To increase our scanner range in case they have any idea of bringing more ships from the sides to catch us in crossfire." "Sounds good to me," said Boomer. "Okay, Blue, we know where target one is," said Apollo. "Let's look around for any---" Apollo stopped, and for a moment, didn't speak. It seemed for a moment that space both outside and within his viper was filled with streaking blue spheres. A strange whistling sound accompanied them, darting across his bow, as well as that of the other vipers. "What the..." began Apollo, but he'd barely drawn breath, when the mysterious visitors were gone. "My God," said Apollo. "They're back." "What are?" asked Boomer. He let his gaze wander off to the left of his viper's nose. "The Lights." "Lights?" asked Starbuck of his captain. "I don't see anything." "The strange lights we encountered, before the..." he stopped, looked outside. The cerulean luminosities were not there now---only empty space. "Before some of our pilots disappeared." There was no response from the men in his viper squadron. Shaking his head, Apollo said, "Right. Let's move into our new positions." ******************************************************* The door to Adama's quarters eased open, and his visitor walked in. The commander looked up from the printout report he'd been scanning. "I didn't know you were going to continue to monitor me," he said smiling. Sybilla said, "Relax. This isn't exactly an official visit." "Sit down," he invited, nodding at a chair facing his. After seating herself, Siress Sybilla said, "I haven't had much chance to chat with you since friend Baltar staged his little fireworks display the other day." "You'll be happy to know that he's now safely back aboard the prison barge," Adama said, "in more isolated quarters than he had prior to his escape." "It was a near thing, though, wasn't it?" she asked, watching his face. "If Starbuck and your son hadn't prevented them from getting farther into the battlestar...if those Cylons hadn't been reprogrammed to outfox Baltar...people might have been killed. In fact, the Galactica might well have been seized, taken over." "I don't think it would have come to that," the commander said. "This is a pretty tough ship to take over, Sybilla. But I'm glad we put down the threat with a minimum of trouble." "The Council was very impressed with the way you handled things." "But?" Sybilla said, "Some of my colleagues, I must admit, are like children. It takes more than one lesson before they really learn something." "I assumed the good feeling between the Council and myself wouldn't last forever. What are they planning?" "Oh, nothing definite as yet. It's merely that some of them are commencing to have second thoughts. Maybe you aren't infallible after all; perhaps it was unwise to return full control to you. Doubt is creeping back." "Yes, I expected that." "What I wanted to tell you, Adama, is that my opinion of you hasn't changed," she said. "I'll continue to support you." "Learned your lesson, have you?" She laughed. "I guess I'm a better student than some of the others on the Council," she said. "Is there any word from Captain Apollo and the squadron that's tracking the Destroyer?" "I'm expecting a report from Colonel Tigh at any moment," he answered. "If you'd care to stay until he delivers it..." "I think not, no." Sybilla rose to her feet. "I'm not very high on the Colonel's list of admirable people at the moment." "He's simply not fond of anyone who's on the Council," explained Adama as he walked her to the doorway. "Well, if it's any consolation for him, neither am I." She reached out, caught his hand and squeezed it. "If you need my help, let me know." Smiling quickly, she left him. Adama stroked his chin as he returned to his chair. "A most remarkable woman," he said. ******************************************************* The squadron was now pursuing the Destroyer through a belt of asteroids, and an inhabited group of them to boot---inhabited not by some exotic race of beings but by political prisoners of the Alliance. They were using the slave labor of their prisoners to mine the belt. It was easy to see why. The tumbling space rocks were rich in a wide variety of minerals, as well as abundant water ice. Best they could do was get thorough scans of the installations and getaway before ticking anyone off. Apollo, venturing ahead of the group but no so far ahead that he'd overtake the Destroyer, found only a lifeless system of two worlds under an unfriendly sun, neither habitable nor promising mineralogically. As the sun faded to just another dot behind Apollo's viper, the scanner began to beep. The blue spheres had returned yet again, buzzing his ship. That, and something new and unknown had appeared on the long-range optical scanners. Something big was closing on his position. Strange murmuring sounds, like an angelic choir began filling the audiophones in his helmet. A brilliant, glaring light filled the cockpit of his viper. Apollo looked out to his left. "What in Hades is that?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. What looked like a gigantic crystal city in space was drifting ever closer to his ship, a fairy-tale castle with its silvery surface awash in light of incredible brilliance. Apollo activated his Unicom, but found he couldn't exactly control his hands any longer. His fingers felt heavy and numb. The noise grew louder and louder. It was something like music played out of tune and something like thousands of crystal pendants rattling in a hurricane. Apollo was sure of one thing: he didn't want to hear it! The whining sound became deafening. He tried to bring his hands up over his helmet, to press it closer to his head, as if he believed it would provide him maximum protection against the bizarre cacophony surrounding him. His hands no longer obeyed him. "I...have...to..." He could say no more. The sound hurt his ears. He writhed in his seat from the pain. The bizarre apparition was now on top of Apollo's viper. Finally, he slumped down in his seat as he passed out. Only his safety gear kept him from toppling forward. ******************************************************* Lieutenant Starbuck exhaled smoke. "Have you modockers ever got a surprise coming at you," he told the tiny dot on his scanner screen. "When your bloomin' Destroyer arrives at---" "Starbuck!" It was Lieutenant Boomer's voice. "Lieutenant Starbuck stepped out for a breath of air," answered Starbuck in a falsetto. "This is his gorgeous blonde secretary speaking. You can leave a message or take a hike, sweetie." "Hey, listen," cut in Boomer, "Has the captain pulled back there with you?" Frowning, Starbuck replied, "Apollo ain't back here, chum. Must still be looking at those planets he found." "That's just the problem. I just got back from there. He and I moved off together when he fanned off the squadron, remember?" "So?" "Then he disappeared." "I'm not hearing you loud and clear," Starbuck informed him. "Sounded like you said Apollo disappeared." "I did," said Boomer. "He did." "And you saw him do that?" "Directly, no. His image vanished, all of a sudden, off my scanner." Starbuck set his own scanner to look around for the missing Apollo. After a moment, he said, "He's nowhere in my vicinity." "Well, he isn't around here, either." "Then," inquired Starbuck, "where is he?" *************************************** Chapter Thirty-Eight: "A Lot More Lives Depend On Your Assisting Us" Commander Adama asked, "No word?" Tigh sat opposite him. "No. I'm getting concerned" "There's nothing to be concerned about. The men can take care of themselves." Adama told him. "What lies beyond that Destroyer concerns me, however. We're heading directly into a war zone. Tigh said, "You think they'll risk attacking us?" "From what the Robinsons and Commandant Smith have told us of this Alliance, it is a society that does not trust. That's because trust, in a country under a military dictator-ship, is like water in the desert---hard to find, gone very quickly---and potentially dangerous." Adama leaned back in his chair. "Yes, I believe they will attack us. That's why it's imperative that we know their strength on Moonbase 14 Umbra." Tigh cracked the knuckle of his forefinger. "Adama, if I may suggest..." "Please do," invited Adama. "Why don't we bypass Moon-base 14 Umbra entirely?" suggested the black colonel. "Take the fleet to the mother planet, Terra?" "And what then? How do we assess the true predicament of those people? Who's in the right? Who's in the wrong?" "Surely the Alliance is in the wrong." "I would think so. But sup-pose both sides are partially wrong. Do we meddle in their affairs and lend our superior technology to the wrong side?" "Adama, we are not gods," reminded Tigh. "We've got our own people to think about." Adama shook his head. "Yes, that's true," he said firmly. And so we must wait for our patrol to report on the true situation on Moon-base 14 Umbra." ******************************************************* The chamber was large and every-thing in it was completely white. There were no furnishings; however, at one end of the chamber was a padded, altar-like pedestal, also white. Lying on the pedestal, his warrior uniform completely white, was Apollo. He had been unconscious, but slowly, he was beginning to regain consciousness. His half-opened eyes took in a glaring white ceiling and glaring white walls. He got up; his movements slow, almost labored. After he balanced himself, he started to look around the chamber in confusion. He looked at his uniform in surprise. At one end of the chamber, a door slid open and two figures entered. The figures were clad in dazzling white robes with white masks over their faces. One of them approached Apollo, whose first instinct was to draw his laser gun, which, to his surprise, was not in its holster. "This," he said, his voice weak and dry, "This is a true question in situations like this...but I'd really appreciate an answer. Where am I?" He put up one arm to gaze over at the blurred figures across the white room. Apollo suddenly felt dizzy. He held on, gritting his teeth as it passed. A soft, whispery voice, coming not from the figure in the cowled robes, but rather, from above him, said, "Welcome back, Captain Apollo." "You know my name?" The figure said nothing, only nodded. He stared up at the white ceiling. "You didn't answer my question. Where am I? Why have I been brought here?" "What do you remember?" The voice, a deeper one this time, was apparently coming down from an unseen speaker. Apollo considered the question. "Not too much," he admitted after a moment. "There was a lot of light, some odd noises... that's about all." "That's to be expected." "Did you... grab me somehow out of my ship? Is that it?" "In a manner of speaking, we did." "How? Was I teleported right out of the cockpit?" The voice said, "Something like that, yes." "Okay," said Apollo, "Where's my ship? I've got to get it back and continue my... But you're probably not going to let me do that, right?" "Not immediately." "Yeah, but look... A lot of lives may depend on me." "A great many more lives depend on your assisting us." "Assist you with what?" "Do you think you can walk?" Apollo thought about it. The dizziness seemed to have passed. "I can give it a try," he answered. "There's someone you have to meet," the voice informed him. "If you'll get up and follow my Custodians." The two robed figures were already, silently, as though they were floating across the white floor, moving toward the curtained door at the chamber's rear. Apollo moved first one booted foot and then the other, taking a slow breath while doing so. No dizziness at all. Walking carefully, he followed the two Custodians out of the room. ************************************************************************ Chapter Thirty-Nine: Serina Starbuck gunned his viper until he was flying alongside Boomer's craft. " No-thing, not a trace," he said. "I've flown to the edges of the squadron formation and he just isn't with us anymore." "Nobody's seen him?" "Nope." "This, observed Boomer, "doesn't make much sense." "Not a heck of a lot," agreed Starbuck. "If Apollo was in trouble, he'd have signaled us. If he'd run into an enemy ship, somebody would have seen it." "We got us a mystery on our hands," said Boomer, "for sure." "Okay," said Starbuck, "I think we better backtrack, see if we can find some clue as to what happened to Apollo." "Okay, but---" "Lieutenant Jolly can take over with the Squadron and stay on the Destroyer's tail," said Starbuck, "While we go hunting." "Yeah, okay," agreed Boomer. "So, let's go." ******************************************************* The next room was also white, but larger than the one Apollo had awakened in, complete with thick white carpeting on the floor and three white chairs. Seated in one of them was a slender, well-formed young woman with long, reddish-brown hair and green eyes. She was wearing a shimmering, silvery-white gown of a style Apollo was not familiar with. But the warrior wasn't paying much attention to her because he was staring dumbfounded---at the face of a woman believed long dead! "Serina!" He cried out, continuing to stare at the woman in disbelief. "But---you're dead! The Cylons killed you back on Kobol! Boxey and I were with you in the Life Station as you died!" "They only killed my body, Apollo," said Serina. "Not my immortal soul---or my love for you and Boxey." She sighed. "But we have no time for a happy reunion, my beloved. Please, be seated." "Wait now," said Apollo, stepping beside one of the two empty chairs. His guides were no longer in the room. He wasn't exactly sure where they'd gone. "You've got to tell me what my hosts won't. Where am I? What is this place?" "I am sorry, Apollo, but I am not at liberty to discuss that," she said. "Not even with you." Apollo had his head cocked to one side. "You're not the one who was talking to me out of the ceiling," he decided. "No, I am not," Serina replied, smiling slightly. Apollo seemed more confused than ever and it showed on his face. "Here's a question you should be able to answer: how do they know who I am?" "You've been here before," Serina replied. "They blocked out all recollection of your prior visit." She gently took Apollo's hand I hers. "Please show respect for them, beloved. In a way, they are your parents." "Parents?" "They like to think of themselves as that, despite the evolutionary gap between our two peoples." "Are they from Terra?" "No, not exactly," answered Serina. "If they were, the Terrans wouldn't be in so much trouble." She rested her delicate hands on the arms of her chair. "That's why they brought you here, Apollo. They need your help." "Me?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Why do they need my help?" "In order to help yourself, you must help the Terrans," said Serina. "If events continue on their present course, serious things will happen in less than a fortnight." "What sort of---" "You've got to move more swiftly," Serina told him. "They'll get you as close to Terra as they can without causing... complications. Then, you're on your own." "What are you talking about? Terra is so far away, it'd take---" "The ship will be there before you know it." "Is that what we're on now, some kind of spaceship?" Serina nodded. "I have already revealed more than I was authorized to." "Then at least tell me what the situation is," Apollo pleaded, "So I'll better understand how I can be of any assistance." Serina sighed. "I was hoping we could take this one step at a time, but, since you insist---Very well, Apollo. Once you arrive at your destination, you will be expected to do your best to stop a war." "A war?" Apollo got up. "This doesn't make any sense, Serina. You say they're more advanced than we are, but they want me to stop a war on a planet I don't know a damn thing about?" "The simple truth is neither I, nor they, can be seen by the people of Terra beyond the environment of this ship." Apollo sat down, slightly agitated by the implications of what he was hearing. "You mean---you're not real? You're just an illusion?" "I am real, Apollo. I simply don't have a physical body as you know it." Pointing at her, Apollo said, "But you must have a physical body. Otherwise, how can you sit in that chair and talk to me?" "You see before you a reflection of my intelligence. What you might call my ghost." Apollo leaned back in the chair, glanced up at the white ceiling for a few microns. "Do you think, Serina, that when those folks teleported me from my ship to theirs, they left some of my brain behind?" he inquired. "Because I don't seem to be getting much of this." "In some ways you're not capable of understanding it all. But complete understanding will not be necessary for you to perform your task." "At least tell me why they even care what happens to the people on Terra. If they're so advanced, and I take your word for it that they are, Serina, then what difference does it make to them?" "Because anything that happens on Terra could conceivably upset the present balance of the universe, affecting you as well," answered Serina. "Try to understand, Apollo. Granted, they are generations, literally eons ahead of our people, however, there are certain things they---and I, being one of them now---cannot interfere with. In those certain instances, they can only offer advice and guidance. This is one of those times." Apollo clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "I get the feeling I'm not going to get out of this unless I agree to help them." "Yes. That's the situation." "Okay, then fill me in on the mission they have in mind." "Most of it you'll quickly ascertain for yourself once you're on Terra," said Serina. "One more thing, though," Apollo said with much concern. "How do I build up my credibility on Terra?" "You don't," Serina replied. "Some of the people you encounter will seem to think of you as someone they already know." Apollo looked at Serina questioningly. "I don't follow you." "If you try to tell them who you are, what you know, how you know it, and where you come from," Serina explained, "You will likely be judged insane. By the time you could convince anyone you're telling the truth, it would be too late. So, Apollo, that is why they will borrow someone else's identity for you." "Borrow someone else's identity?" A look of realization crossed Apollo's face. "Yeah, well, I guess if they can pluck me out of my viper, they can borrow an identity." "It's not a difficult thing to do. He's a warrior, one who's missing in combat." "Missing where?" "He's being held prisoner on Moonbase 31 Sierra. He'll eventually turn up free," said Serina. "Oh, by the way, I'd better mention that he's somewhat of a rogue and a gambler." "Another Starbuck, in other words." "Yes. That's what makes him ideal to work with on such short notice." "This is sounding better by the micron," said Apollo. "You won't be the most well-liked man on Terra, but if Starbuck can overcome a small handicap like that, so can you." "Guess I'm going to have to," said Apollo. "When do I leave on this mission?" Serina smiled almost maternally. "Now, my husband." "Now? That's im---" Apollo blinked. He was back in his viper, strapped into his seat. He laughed. "Boy, I'm going to have to give up the night life," he said, shaking his head. "Or maybe have my air mixture in this crate rechecked. Having a dream like that really...ooops!" He looked up from his control panel and out the cockpit window. Looming large dead ahead was a planet. A planet he'd never seen before. **************************************** Chapter Forty: "Your Name Is Tim Robinson" The Observation Deck on the Galactica was the smallest room on the battlestar with the largest viewing port of any ship in the fleet. Commander Adama leaned against the edge of the viewing port, staring off into deep space. Somewhere out there in the far stretching blackness was his son and the viper squadron. And farther beyond that, perhaps the planet they'd been questing for after all this time. The door behind him slid open and Colonel Tigh entered. Adama did not react to his entry, continuing instead to stare into deep space. Tigh stood at the door for several milicentons, watching him. Finally, he walked over to him and tapped him on his shoulder. "What's the latest news, old friend?" he asked without looking into the face of his longtime aide. "I'm not sure." Tigh stopped beside Adama and, himself, began to look away and out into deep space. Finally turning to face him, Adama requested, "Could you amplify that remark, Colonel?" "The squadron is still in pursuit of the Alliance Destroyer, but..." He made a vague gesture with his right hand. "Well, they've apparently lost a pilot." "Who?" "Captain Apollo. His ship seems to have disappeared." "Disappeared?" Deep creases appeared on Adama's broad forehead. "My son's viper?" The black colonel nodded. "It simply...isn't there anymore." "What do the other ships in the squadron have to say about that?" "They've passed beyond the direct communication range," answered Tigh. The commander moved for the doorway. "Let's get to the bridge," he said. "I want to check the geocan, see if we can pick up his ship's emergency beacon signal." "I've already tried that." "We'll try again." Adama went striding into the corridor. ******************************************************* Apollo's viper had come to rest near the base rocks of a rocky and heavily contoured canyon in a stony desert area. He rechecked what his control dash had to tell him. "Let's see...atmosphere one-fifth Colonial standard, just like it was in the Robinsons' ship...light breathing gear necessary... no dangerous radiation, though... no major pollutants in the air..." Apollo sighed, leaning back in his seat and taking another long look into the moonlit rocks that made up the landscape. The pinnacles of the canyon were huge, monolithic, proud towers rising over the barren wastes. He'd never seen anyplace like this before, waking or sleeping. "Well, captain, it really looks as though this isn't a dream after all," Apollo said aloud. "So, I might as well slap on my oxygen mask and take a look around." He unfastened his safety gear and unlocked the hatch. He started to fasten the transparent plastic mask over his mouth and nose, and then, somehow, realized he didn't need it; somehow, he knew, he'd be able to breathe the thin Terran air. He dropped clear of the ship. There was coarse sand, dotted with an occasional patch of sagebrush, underfoot. Tumbleweeds bounced by him. Looking up, he scanned the night sky. The stars were in unfamiliar positions. Apollo shivered, even though the soft wind that was blowing across the rough landscape was warm. "Next time I take a job from a ghost in a white gown that looks like my dead wife," he told himself, "I'm going to demand more details in front." Turning his back on the viper, he started walking in a westerly direction. The canyon was dark and quiet, but from far off came faint sounds. Hums and murmurs that indicated there was a technological civilization not too far off. After Apollo had been trudging through the pathless desert for nearly half a centon, he began to be aware of a diffused glow shining off the canyon's sandstone walls. That meant he was approaching a settlement of some size, a city perhaps. "Might as well try to find out why I'm here," he said. ******************************************************* She didn't know why she was doing this at all. "I should've told him to go to hell," she said as she guided the swiftly moving, sleek, bubble topped Ford FX-Atmos along the curving night roadway. Well, actually she wasn't even certain if he was the one who'd called her. The voice had been so distant and faraway sounding. Tam Robinson, the young niece of John and Maureen Robinson, shook her head. "Still, he's my brother. And if there's a chance he's out here alive and well, then..." The slim, pretty dark-haired young woman looked almost like an older version of her young cousin, Penny, except that Penny's eyes were hazel-brown and Tam's were sapphire-blue. As she drove she scanned the side of the roadway, hunting for some sign of him at the edge of the woods. "Why the devil he's out here I don't know," she said. "But then, a good many things he does don't make sense. I notice, though, that he turns to me when he wants help, not his friends or lovers." She wondered how many lovers he'd had over the years. Obviously, more than one. "More than a half-dozen, probably. Nothing but tramps, most of them and... Omigod! Tim!" She punched out a parking pattern, flipped the braking toggle. The Atmos slid to a stop off the roadway, the tires slightly screeching. At the touch of a button, the bubble top split in two, both halves sinking out of sight into the main body of the car. Night air came, scented with the smell of sagebrush and wild flowers, and assailed her nostrils. Apollo came walking over to her car. "Don't be alarmed," he told her, with what he hoped was an ingratiating smile. "I'd appreciate a lift to the nearest human settlement. This may sound a bit strange, but I'm not certain where I am." "Oh for crying out loud, Tim! What are you up to now?" "Huh?" He crouched some to look directly over the driver's side door to look her in the eye. "Why are you pretending not to know me? Is this some kind of a joke?" "What was that you just called me?" "Your name is Tim Robinson, joker. My last name is Robinson, too. We're twins, in case you've forgotten." With an impatient gesture, she unlatched the door on the side of the Atmos. "Oh, c'mon, get in, will you. We'd better have a talk, brother to sister." "Yep," agreed Apollo as he climbed in, "We'd better." ********************************************* Chapter Forty-One: Tam Robinson The city looked strange, yet vaguely familiar at the same time. Apollo could guess at the functions of most of the buildings and vehicles he was seeing, but their shapes were odd. The buildings rose high and were linked with curving ramps at walkways at various levels. The structures were mostly huge panels of tinted glass and fretworks of shimmering metal. Up above the roadways and ramps, hovercraft darted from tower to tower. "I thought you were dead," Tam was saying as she drove them deeper and deeper into the glittering city. "Apparently not," he said. "You were gone for weeks, Tim, nobody knew where. Then you call me in practically in the middle of the night to rush out and come pick you up," she continued. "That was you who phoned me, wasn't it?" "Not exactly." He still wasn't quite certain who this attractive young woman was, but he had a strong hunch Serina had something to do with bringing them together. "I had someone contact you." "Who?" "Just a helpful passerby." She frowned over at him. "And why are you dressed like that? It looks like some sort of party costume." The girl herself was clad in a blue-and-gray jumpsuit that looked as if it might be a uniform of some kind. "Well," began Apollo, "My plane crashed in the desert back there." "Oh, wow! Are you hurt? Is that why you haven't gotten in touch with anyone?" "I'm not so much hurt," said Apollo, "As I am... a bit confused." "I think we better get you right to a hospital," she said. "You've been sounding... dazed." "No, I'm not in need of hospital attention," he assured her. "Isn't there someplace where we can go and have that talk you promised? I'm still disoriented." "You don't need to talk, brother. You need to go to a hospital." "No hospital." His lasergun was in his hand, pointed at her. "I was hoping we could do this all in a friendly manner." "Tim, you don't have to point a gun at me to...what kind of gun is that, anyway?" "I'll explain things when we... By the way, I didn't catch your name." The Atmos shimmied some more as she glanced at him. "You...you really don't remember?" "I told you, I'm very unsettled." "Tam," she said, lips thinning. "Tam Robinson." "Robinson?" Apollo frowned. He was, frankly, getting damn sick and tired of hearing that name. "Uh, are you, I mean---we, any relation to Professor John Robinson, of the Jupiter 2?" "Boy!' exclaimed Tam. "You are sick if you don't know our Uncle John and Aunt Maureen! I suppose you don't know our cousins, Will, Penny and Judy, either?" Apollo was in a state of chaos now. "Tam, I'll try to do the best I can to fill you in," he promised. "Now, how about we have that talk?" "Will my apartment do?" "It'll do nicely," nodded Apollo. "You remember my apartment, don't you?" Apollo shook his head. "Afraid not." "Damn!" she cursed aloud. ************************************************** Starbuck banked his viper, muttering, "C'mon, Apollo, show up." Boomer's voice came out his helmet's audiophones. "We've barely got enough fuel to complete our mission and rendezvous with the Galactica," he said. "Where the frak is he? Where'd he go?" "I hate to say it, but maybe we just aren't going to find him at all." " We can't stop now," insisted Starbuck, teeth grinding on his cigar. "Apollo's out there somewhere and I intend to find him." "It might help if we could get the Galactica to come to us," mused Boomer. "Except we're too far for voice communications." Starbuck tapped the fingers of his left hand on the control dash. "What if we turned on our long range distress beacon?" "Oh, they'd pick that up," said Boomer. "So might our friend Commandant Smith or any other Destroyers in the area." "It's either that or give up on Apollo." Starbuck activated his beacon. "Wanna risk it, for his sake?" "Okay, count me in, too." "Now, we just...Hey! I'm getting a long-range distress signal on my long-range scanner." Boomer said, "So am I." "It's got to be Apollo!" "But there's no possible way he could've outflown our normal scanners in so short a time as to..." "Be that as it may," cut in Starbuck, watching the tiny throbbing dot of light on his screen, "That has to be our wandering boy." There was a note of skepticism in Boomer's voice. "But it's coming from the wrong direction." "Even so, old chum." "On top of which, it's beyond the point of no return. We don't have enough fuel to get there and back." "Then I'll just have to cross my fingers and hope the fleet picks up my beacon signal," said Starbuck. "'Cause I'm gonna find Apollo or die trying." "You're not going alone, friend." "Uh-uh, Boomer, not on this trip," Starbuck told him. "I'm as anxious to find the guy as you are." "True, but you're going to have to take over command of the squadron. Our primary mission is still to track that damn Destroyer to Moonbase 14 Umbra." "Great! Instead of one missing warrior, we'll probably end up with two." "Oh, ye who have little faith," quipped Starbuck. "I'll find him and bring us both back. Never fear, Starbuck's here...see ya later." His viper went into a steep bank, moving swiftly away from Boomer's ship. "Good luck," said Boomer. ********************************************* Chapter Forty-Two: Identity Crisis Apollo crossed the circular living room. The sounds of the night city were muted up here in this tower apartment. There was a rectangular mirror inset in one section of the pale blue wall. He stopped close in front of it, touching his face. "I don't look any different," he said quietly. "What was that?" Tam was standing near a pneumatic sofa, watching him. "Nothing, just thinking aloud." "You were injured in the crash, weren't you?" Facing her, Apollo answered, "Nope, not really." "Then why were you so anxious to look at your face?" "I just wanted to make sure it was the same one I woke up with this morning." "Tim, not much of what you've said so far makes any sense." Her frown was deepening. "That's something else we're going to have to discuss," he said. "You keep calling me Tim Robinson, but actually..." "Before we talk," she said, holding up a hand in a wait-a-minute gesture, "Let me change out of my uniform." She moved toward a doorway. "Don't get in touch with anyone," he warned, tapping his holstered lasergun. Shaking her had, she said, "Do you really think your own sister would sell you out?" She went through the doorway, closing the door behind her. Apollo crossed the room and stood listening at the shut door. "You cannot tell her the truth, be-loved." Spinning suddenly, Apollo saw Serina sitting comfortably on the pneumatic sofa. It was all Apollo could do to keep from running over to give her a hug. God, he missed her so. "How'd you get here?" Apollo asked. "I thought you told me that no one on this planet could see you." "They can't, you can." She tapped the side of her head. "The point is, you have to pretend you're Tim Robinson. I came to warn you not to confide anything in his sister, since that would be dangerous." "Who in Hades is this Tim Robinson, anyway?" "As you've already been told, he's the nephew of Professor John Robinson, whose family you recently aided on their journey to Alpha Centauri," Serina explained. "That, together with the fact that he holds the rank of colonel in his nation's military, should get you into their governing body, called the Presidium. There you will tell them the truth about what's happening on Moonbase 14 Umbra and Alpha-See-Four." Apollo touched his face. "And I look just like Tim?" "To them," said Serina. ******************************************************* Tam glanced once again at the picturephone alcove across her bedroom. "There's something wrong with him," she told herself. "Something seriously wrong." Slowly, walking like a reluctant child, she went to the alcove and sat in the chair that faced the phonescreen. "Tim's played some nasty jokes on me from time to time. But nothing like this," she said. "He's not pretending he doesn't know me, he really doesn't." She sat with her hands folded in her lap for a moment, then sighed, leaned forward and punched out a series of numbers. The small rectangular picturephone turned from gray to deep black. "Security number?" requested a bland mechanical voice. "SN#800-212-1441," she responded. The screen snapped to a brilliant yellow and a few seconds later, a stern faced man was there. "Yes, Robinson?" "Something's happened, Mike..." "Yes, go on." His fluffy blonde hair and thick eyebrows accented his deeply tanned face. "He's back." "Your brother, Tim?" "Yes." "Where was he?" "I---I'm not certain. There was a crash and---he's been hurt, Mike." "How bad?" "Physically, he's okay, but---he's acting very strangely. He doesn't seem to know who I am." "We'll get a team over there right away," promised Mike. "Be careful, don't take any chances." "I won't." ******************************************************* Apollo had been talking to Serina. "Okay," he'd said, pacing the blue carpeting. "I know something about what happened on Alpha-See-Four. I was there, I saw what happened." "They know that Apollo. That's why they chose you." "Yeah, but I don't know a blinking thing about Moonbase 14 Umbra," Apollo told the white-gowned woman, halting to point at her. "Sweetheart, if I get up in front of this... what did you call it?" "Presidum. It's the Terran equivalent of the Colonies' Quorum of the Twelve." "What can I possibly tell them about Moonbase 14 Umbra? I don't have more than what Professor Robinson told me about his family's experience there." "That's a start," Serina said. "And what you don't know, I'll supply." "And they're going to fall for this dodge? I come strolling into this Presidium and say, 'Hi, folks, I'm good old Tim Robin-son,' and they're going to accept it?" "Yes." "Did he look anything like me?" "Actually, more like a cross between you and Starbuck." "Just the kind of guy I've always wanted to meet, I suppose. They'll perceive you as looking like Robinson." "An illusion?" "Most things are, but we don't have time to go into that," said Serina. "The most important thing to remember is---" "All right, I'll tell all I know, all you pump into me by way of information," conceded Apollo, stopping his pacing in the vicinity of the sofa. "But, wife or not, if I get the feeling you're abandoning me, I'll tell the truth." Serina's sensuous smile spread slowly and then vanished. "This culture isn't very different from the ones you know, Apollo. Remember what I said---If you tell them the truth, they'll merely assume you're crazy and lock you up." Apollo scratched his ribs and thought about that. "You're not kidding about that, that nobody but me can see you?" "Only you." "That hurts." He sat down next to the white-gowned woman. "Explain to me again why I'm putting on this show." "We're helping not just these people but our people as well." "Fine, but I need a heck of a lot more details than what you've supplied me with." "I told you I couldn't work that way." "Serina, I'm asking you as your husband. I need to be sure I'm on the right side before I--" "Of course you're on the right side, Tim," said Tam from the doorway of her bedroom. "You know that." Apollo looked from her to Serina. "Can't see you?" "Not at all." Serina shook her head. "As far as Tam Robinson is concerned, I'm not here." "I wish she could meet you." Apollo had to hold back tears, hurting at the idea that no one could see his beloved but him. Tam came over to him, took his hand and started to seat herself next to him. "Is something wrong?" "Watch it, you'll plump right down on her lap if... That is--That's a very pretty dress." "You should know, brother. You bought it for me." "Did I? Well, it just goes to prove that I have excellent taste." She sat. Serina was no longer there. "Tim, no matter what happens...Dad knows I love you and so do you." She moved her hand, tentatively, up to stroke his cheek. "You disappeared on us six weeks ago without so much as a word... and just two weeks after that, Dad was reported missing in action. It's been very rough on me." "What's he like, your---I mean---our father?" "Well, you know...Dammit, Tim, you really aren't yourself...and so---" "You're right, I'm not myself. But, with your help, Tam, I can do what I have to do. You---" The door had been making a low humming sound. Apollo straightened. "What's wrong?" "It's only the doorbell." She stood, nervous. "Remember, Tim, whatever happens... it's for your own good." "I don't like the sound of that," he said. ************************************************** Chapter Forty-Three: They're Taking Apollo To The Funny Farm! Colonel Tigh was seated at his console in the communications area. There were several other crewmembers seated at various positions around the area. She brought something to Tigh's attention that had come up on her console, the news of which later sends him scurrying across the bridge. "I think you better come take a look at the number three geoscan screen," he said to the commander. Adama followed him back. "What is it?" "Vipers two and four are transmitting emergency beacons from this area of the quadrant," explained Tigh, indicating the pale green screen next to Athena. "That's Starbuck's ship and Boomer's," said Athena as she pushed the readout button. A sheet of pale green paper came whispering out of a slot beneath the screen. Adama snatched it up as fast as he could. "They're quite a distance from Moonbase 14 Umbra," said Adama, studying the printout sheet. "If our geoscan is correct," said Tigh, "The signals are coming from quite near Terra." "Can the Destroyer have bypassed Moonbase 14 Umbra and headed for Terra?" "It's a possibility," replied Tigh doubtfully, "but I don't think the Destroyer has that kind of speed." "Have you communicated with the viper squadron?" "They're out of range. We can only pick up the emergency beacon blips; we can't communicate with them." Adama was frowning at the scanner. "Something's obviously going wrong," he said. "We have to catch up with them." "But how can we at this speed?" said Athena. Adama snatched up a talkmike. "Get me helm and plotting, please." After a micron, a woman's voice came over the speaker. "Helm, Marali here." "Bring her around to mark Delta five. Full scan, on direct track for Terra." "Terra, sir?" "Athena will transmit the coordinates to your station," the commander ordered. "And give me light speed." "It's been some time, if you don't mind my mentioning it, since this battlestar has tried traveling at light speed." "Nevertheless, we'll do it." "Yes, sir," said Marali. "Mark Delta Five. Executing. Switching now to light speed." Adama, still holding the talkmike, switched to Unicom, the frequency that would patch him through to the entire fleet. Tigh cracked his knuckles, glanced at the geoscan screen and then at the commander. "The Galactica must temporarily leave the fleet," Adama was saying, his voice going out to all the ships in the space fleet. "We'll be rendezvousing with one of our patrols. Your captains will all be given instructions via fleet navigation. Thank you." He let the mike drop to his side. "Do you think the emergency has something to do with Apollo's whereabouts?" asked Colonel Tigh. "All I know is that there is an emergency," answered the Commander, "And that we have to do something about it." ******************************************************* The door of the young woman's apartment snapped open. Two men in white helmets and gray-white uniforms came swiftly in, side by side, each with a pistol in hand. The barrels of both weapons were looking right at the seated Apollo. "Don't give us any trouble, Colonel," said the taller of the two men. He had a lean face, and the hair showing beneath the rim of his helmet was sand-colored. "Seems like I've been promoted all of a sudden," remarked Apollo. "From captain to colonel in just one night. Amazing!" "Colonel Robinson," said the man, "You are to---" "Am I supposed to know these guys?" Apollo asked the nervous girl. Tam swallowed, shook her head. "No, I don't suppose so," she answered finally. "They won't hurt you, though." "I thought you said you wouldn't sell me out, Tam." The warrior turned to the two uniformed men. "Are you friends of hers?" "I'm Agent Burton," said the one with the sandy hair. The second man eased closer to the sofa Apollo was seated on. "We've met before, Colonel, although you may not remember," he said. "I'm Mike Wilson. No need to shake hands." "Since you came barging in with drawn guns, I don't guess this is a simple social call." "No," said Wilson, "Wince we're taking you in for questioning." "Where are you taking me?" "It would be better, Colonel, if you'd let us ask the questions for the time being." Apollo, slowly, stood up. "I don't suppose," he said, "I can persuade you to take me directly to the Presidium." Wilson shook his head. "Not just yet, sir. Sorry." Tam said, "Go with them, Tim. Please. It's for your own good." "Don't bet on that," said Apollo. "Okay, fellows, lead on." ******************************************************* The viper came skimming in over the rocky canyon at dawn. Starbuck, cigar at a jaunty angle, was concentrating on landing at just the right spot. "Get set for a reunion, Apollo," he announced. "I'm just about caught up with you." The tracking device on his control panel told him he was flying ever closer to Apollo's missing ship. "Bingo!" said Starbuck when his scanner screen showed him the viper itself, directly below. Decelerating, he circled the pinnacles of the canyon and then set down his ship in the same spot with Apollo's. "Deft," he congratulated himself. "A very deft and lovely landing, m'boy." Remembering that the atmosphere of Terra was thinner than what he was accustomed to, he put on a breathing mask, popped the canopy and came bounding out into the wilderness. The early morning light was a thin gray; everything around felt cool and dry. Off in the brush, small animals were stirring. "Apollo?" called the lieutenant as he doubletimed over to the other viper. The ship was silent, its surface covered with dust. After making a circle of the craft and determining there was no one inside the cockpit, Starbuck tried the hatch handle. The door opened with no trouble. Climbing inside, Starbuck looked around the cockpit. No sign of any trouble or violence---and no sign of Apollo, either. Nodding, tightening the rubber thongs that held the mask to his mouth and nose, Starbuck went to the dash and flipped a small red toggle. "This is Captain Apollo," he began. "I'm leaving this message in case any of the Galactica warriors succeed in tracking me here. I'm about to set out on foot for the nearest human settlement. I'll keep my personal communicator on standby to act as a homing device." Silence followed. Starbuck was about to turn off the switch when Apollo spoke further. "If, as I sort of suspect, it's you who find this crate first, Starbuck," he said, "Let me tell you, old buddy, that you are not going to believe what's going on. Not sure I believe it myself. See you soon... Bye." Starbuck made an impatient gesture at the speaker. "C'mon, don't be so darn coy. Give me some details." The message, however, was over. Going to the nearest human settlement. Involved in something incredible. Starbuck scratched his backside. "Guess I'd better turn on my own communicator and see if I can trail him. I noticed a major population center when I was flying in and that must be...what the---" Something big was standing near his viper, looking at him with whatever it was that passed for its eyes ***************************************** Chapter Forty-Four: Starbuck Meets Robby The Robot "Do you know me?" the man in the white tunic asked Apollo. "Should I?" "My name is Doctor Zucco." He was a small man with wavy long hair and a mustache who appeared to be approaching middle age. "Sorry, your name doesn't ring any bells," Apollo shrugged. He was sitting on an examining table in a glass-walled room. The walls were blank and he couldn't tell what was going on be-hind them. Three ball-shaped light fixtures floated up near the ceiling. "How'd you get here?" asked the doctor. "Some lads in uniform dragged me in. Actually, I wanted to go right to the Presidium, but they had other ideas." "I meant, how did you get back to Terra?" Apollo glanced around. "Do you have some of your colleagues on the other side of these one way walls?" "Do you feel as though you're being watched?" Apollo laughed. "You've been working here too long, Doc... This is a mental institution, isn't it?" "It's a government facility," answered Zucco. "As you know." Folding his arms, Apollo said, "I've been trying to figure out how I must look to you. I can understand why you well might think I'm goofy, but that sort of attitude isn't going to help either one of us." "Why do you persist in evading my questions, Colonel Robinson?" "First off, let me explain that... and you'll have to take this on faith, since you probably think you're seeing Tim Robinson... Anyway, I'm not Robinson." "Who do you think you are?" "That doesn't really matter. You can call me Robinson, if you like, might be simpler all around," said Apollo. "Listen, the important thing is I have a message for the Presidium. An important message." The doctor asked, "You feel that way about yourself, Colonel Robinson? That you're very important?" "Not me, the message," answered Apollo, letting some of his impatience show in his voice. "Apparently they're not aware of the real situation out there." He pointed ceiling ward. "Your outpost on Moonbase 14 Umbra and the secret commercial settlements on Alpha-See-Four, for instance, have been all but wiped out." "And just how do you know that?" "I was on Alpha-See-Four. In fact, I helped one of your ships get there." "To which ship are you referring, sir?" "The Jupiter 2," said Apollo. "During the time I spent with the Robinsons, I was able to see what the Alliance had done to the planet. Now, as for the other moonbases, from 14 Umbra to---" Zucco stamped his foot hard on the floor. "Enough nonsense!" he bellowed. The mustachioed doctor stepped to one side the examination table, leaning over to Apollo, as if to intimidate him. "You have never been to Alpha Centauri." "Tim Robinson hasn't, no, but---" "No one has been to Alpha Centauri, or lives there for that matter," the doctor said, the volume of his voice increasing with every syllable. "Besides, Colonel," Zucco continued, "You and I both know that your uncle's ship was lost in space over five years ago, he and his family declared legally dead afterward." "What?" Apollo was shocked. "But---that's not true! The Robinsons are making a home on Alpha-See-Four even as we speak. They've got neighbors. There's even an abandoned city there. I've seen it!" Zucco became increasingly stern, increasingly arrogant. "The official statement from Alpha Control was that the Jupiter 2 ran into an unanticipated meteor storm and was thrown off its planned course. And, as I said before, Alpha Centauri is uninhabited." "Then, I would say Alpha Control's been feeding you lies. They even told Professor Robinson his family would be the first family to Alpha Centauri, and they weren't even truthful about that." "All right, Colonel, tell me what you think happened?" "The Jupiter 2 was intercepted at Moonbase 14 Umbra, which unknown to them, had been taken over by the Alliance--- just like a lot of your other satellite planets. The Robinsons had been in Alliance custody for a brief period of time, and then they finally escaped." The doctor's face reddened. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" he said. "I'll be back with you very soon." "While you're out," suggested Apollo, "Suppose you notify the Presidium that I have some---" "Yes, yes," said the doctor as he crossed to the door. "You just relax, Colonel, and don't worry about anything." ******************************************************* "Far out man!" said the bizarre automaton standing near Starbuck's viper, "You sure enough look like as how you might be one of us." Starbuck's right hand was hovering in the immediate vicinity of his holster. "I'm not sure how to take that---are you insulting me or complimenting me?" It was a somewhat humanoid robot that was facing Starbuck now. His head was a gumdrop-shaped dome with an antenna on each side, a trio of gyroscopes where the brow would be, clacking relays beneath, and a grid below the dome that lit up blue as it spoke. The robot could hear, Starbuck was sure, though it wasn't clear where his ears were. The robot's torso was shaped like a giant crockpot with a panel in front. His pelvis was a large sphere, and each leg consisted of three spheres piled one atop the other. He had two round feet, flattened on the bottom. His very short arms ended in a pair of three-fingered hands. In height, he was roughly seven metrons tall. "Mellow out, human! I didn't mean as how you looked like a 'bot," he explained. "What I was getting at was that you seem to be a loner, an outsider? Ain't you?" "I'm not from around here, that's for sure," admitted the lieutenant. "Knowed that right off. Minute I saw you in that dingus you're wearing to help you breathe our air." The "head" swiveled a few times from side to side. "No one else on Terra wears anything like that. Like, oh my God!" He snapped his "fingers," producing a metallic ping. "Excuse my manners. I never introduced myself proper. My name is Rob-by." He trotted up to Starbuck and held out one of his mechanical hands. "That's R-O-B-B-Y." "Pleased to meet you, Robby." Starbuck shook hands with the robot. "I'm called Starbuck." The robot produced a whistling sound with his voice light. "Starbuck? That name's boss, man. Sort of poetic and all." Starbuck retrieved his hand, took a deep breath from his oxygen supply, and inquired. "You're about the second Terran I've met that talks like that. Is this--- slang--- or whatever--- the official language of this planet?" "Ain't it groovy?" His transparent "head" swiveled to and fro; causing a series of clicks, pings and pops. "Nope, heck no. I up and reprogrammed myself, basing my mode of speech on some lingo I come across in our library. Afore that, why, heck, I went around like all the rest of them poor servos, talking like this here... 'Message for Captain Trevino; Colonel Robbins report to Briefing Room 23...' like that there. Shoot, but that was powerful bogus, day in and day out." "How'd you get them to reprogram you?" Robby gave a tinny chuckle. "Hell's Bells, Starbuck, they never done it. I done it my own self, after doing a lot of secret re-searching in the library. We've got a far out and groovy research library at the Multiplex." "Hey, robots can't reprogram them-selves. That violates the basic laws of their programming." "Aw, that's a lot of jive talk, baby," the robot assured him. "Naw, if you want to let it all hang out, do something bad enough, that is, why, heck, you can do it." "Tell you what, Robby," said Star-buck, "What I would really like to do is find my friend. He was in this ship, and now he's missing." "He sure enough was, yep. I seen it land. From a mile or so over yonder, in our pad," said the robot. "Yep. Thing is, I'd never, since the day I was manufactured, seen a ship like this here one, and, I got to admit, it sort of tripped me out first off." His vertical antenna seemed now to be spinning around faster than his horizontal antenna. "Once I got over it, though, why I up and says to the bunch that I was gonna mosey over there hand have a looksee. They ordered me to leave well enough alone, but-- well, heck--- this robot ain't exactly much when it comes to taking orders." "You saw my friend?" "Cool it, Starbuck," Robby told him. "I'm coming to that. Anyways, by the time I got here, it was splitsville for your pal." "Splitsville?" Starbuck was slightly confused. "Oh, you mean he went away. Do you know where?" "Well, I sure do. I wouldn't go telling you this long yarn if I didn't have no ways to end it," said the mechanical hipster. "See, I am built so as I can follow a trail good as a hound dog. So I start tracking him through this here canyon. Didn't get a gander at him till he was out on the highway, 'bout two miles or so yonder." "Which way was he going?" "I'm getting to that, just chill out, man," said Robby. "'Afore I could get close to the cat, whysir, this sexy little Ford Atmos wooshes up and, danged if he don't hop in." Starbuck guessed that an "Atmos" was some kind of landcar. "Who was the driver?" "Foxy lady." His antennae whirled again. "Did she force him into her vehicle?" "Heck, when you're that pretty, you don't need no force." "Do you know who she was?" "Nope. Wish that I did." "And they're headed toward the city?" "Yep, that's where they was aiming for," answered the robot. "If you'd like, I can show you a solid shortcut for getting there without no... Holy darn!" Starbuck heard it too, a chuffing sound from up above. Looking up, he saw a hovercraft dropping down out of the gray morning sky. "Would this be local law enforcement?" "Yep, it's the fuzz alright," said Robby, ruefully. "And it looks like we ain't gonna have no chance to hightail it away from here." *********************************************** Chapter Forty-Five: Delusions Of Truth Doctor Zucco shoved the file folder on his desk an exact half-inch to the right. "Physically, Colonel Robinson is in excellent shape," he said to the man sitting opposite him. "In a way that's puzzling, since one would expect him to show some signs of the ordeal he's obviously been through." "Tell me a bit more about his mental state," requested Harriman Nelson. He was a medium-sized man, with a pale face and brown-gray hair, clad in a one-piece civilian suit. "He's suffering from delusions," replied the doctor. "He says that our moon-bases have been destroyed by the Alliance, and--- get this--- he claims to have met his uncle, Professor Robinson, and guided his ship toward Alpha-See-Four, where he says there's a thriving community." "That sort of talk," said Nelson, "Even when it's only the ravings of a madman, can be dangerous." "I prefer to call the colonel disturbed, Mr. Nelson. The term madman doesn't really apply to him." "Where has he been all this time?" "I'm afraid I can't get a coherent answer out of him." Doctor Zucco shook his head. "He insists he isn't even Colonel Robinson at all." "Is that a fact?" Nelson rubbed his pale fingertips together. "Then who in blazes is he?" "He told me I wouldn't understand, so I might as well call him Tim Robinson." "I recommend keeping the colonel in detention," said Nelson. "It's the safest thing to do." "I disagree. The best thing for him is to be transferred to a facility where he can receive rest and treatment." "All in good time, doctor. But I've got to brief the President first." Zucco pushed the folder another half-inch to the right. "But the Presidium should be notified," he said. "Don't they intend to bestow posthumous honors on Colonel Robinson in a few days? Surely the fact that he's alive and well is something that ought to be brought to their attention." "The decision as to whether the Presidium is to be informed or not is the President's," said Nelson, "is neither yours, nor mine." "Yes, but they've declared him dead--- just like his relatives on the Jupiter 2." "You have your duties here, Dr. Zucco," said Nelson. "They don't include usurping the President's authority." He stood up, slowly. "I want no one else to know that Colonel Robinson has returned or that he's your guest here at the Governmental Medical Complex." "Very well." "I'll contact you again, Doctor, as soon as I know anything." He started for the door. "What about our other patient in detention?" said Zucco, rising. Nelson stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "The President hasn't as yet come to any decision on him," he said over his shoulder. "I don't like to see this facility turning into some sort of political prison." "What you like or dislike has no bearing on the present situation," Nelson informed him. "And I'd hate to have to report to the President that you were less than cooperative." After a few silent seconds, the doctor said, "I'll await some word from you." "Very good." Nelson gave him a quick nod and went out of his office. ******************************************************* "Jinkies!" remarked Robby, whistling. "We're in a fix fer sure!" Two uniformed men were disembarking from the freshly landed hovercraft. Each held a ready pistol. Starbuck's own weapon was in his hand, set for stun. "Let me do the negotiating, Robby." "Heck, I ain't anxious to mess with Five-O in any shape nor form." "I'm Agent Cooley," said one of the young lawmen. "Please step clear of your craft and surrender your weapon." "Nope, I'm not in the mood to do that," Starbuck informed him as he moved into the viper's shadow. "See, I dropped in to find my friend." "These two craft are not from Terra," said Cooley. "Therefore, we assume you are an intruder in airspace under the protection of the People's Nationalist Authority." "I suppose you could say that," admitted Starbuck, eying both of them. "Thing is, that doesn't---" "I'm repeating my order that you surrender," said Cooley, pointing his gun at Starbuck. "You will have to submit to interrogation." "Well, maybe later we can have a nice chat. But right now, I intend to do some hunting," said Starbuck. "Have either of you guys seen my partner? He was in this ship." "We know nothing of him," said Cooley. "Please surrender that weapon at once." "You're sure you didn't run him in?" "You have exactly one minute to surrender. Then we will shoot." "I hate to do this, fellas, but I'm going to have to. You'll wake up in a couple of centons. Okay?" Grinning, he fired two blasts of his pistol, one for each man. Cooley sensed it and tried to squeeze the trigger of his own gun. But the stunbeam sprayed across his chest before he could get off a shot. His body stiffened, quivered, and then went slack. He collapsed on the dewy grass of the clearing. His partner got his dose of stunbeam about a micron later. He folded up, too, and tumbled down across Cooley. "Outta sight!" exclaimed Robby with awe and admiration. "That's one groovy blunderbuss you're toting around Starbuck. What the heck is it?" "Standard issue where I come from." He took a careful look around and then dropped the gun back in its holster. "Ain't ever seen anything like that hereabouts." His half-egg of a head swiveled from side to side. "Seems to me the best policy for us," said Starbuck, stepping away from the nose of the viper, "is to get the hellfire out of here. Soonest." "Yep, that's a solid notion." The robot lumbered along in his measured one-foot-in-front-of-the-other fashion, following closely on Starbuck's heels. "Now," he said, you were mentioning something about showing me a sneaky way to enter the city?" "I sure was. See, we got all kinds of ways worked out," answered Robby. "Being anti-Establishment and such, we've learned to be sly. You ain't sly, you get cooked. Like I almost was this morning here. That, you see, comes from getting so het up over jawing with you." "Robby, you're doing just what you said almost got you--- cooked." "Danged if I ain't." He took hold of Starbuck's left arm with one of his three-fingered hands. "C'mon along, I'll take you to our pad first off and then we'll show you how to get where you want to go. You got any clear idea where your pal is?" "I will soon as I activate this communicator," Starbuck fished out the small hand-held device. It caught the increasing light of the new morning. "Who have you got in your 'pad?' Because I don't know if I'm ready to meet another crew of miscreants like I met on Alpha-See-Four." "Won't take but a minute or two," said Robby, tugging the lieutenant across the canyon floor. "They's only Pleiades Pete, he's a homemade robot who run off from his owner, and Nancy Hartford, sometimes called Nancy Pi-Squared, who's got an ability to see into the future sometimes, and J5, who's human more or less and sort of strange but likeable, and Non, who used to be a robot butler before he figured out how to reprogram himself, and Mr. Chronos, who's good at building things and...Wellsir, that's about all at the present moment. We got what you might call a fluctuating population." Starbuck inhaled deeply from his breathing mask. "Let's get going then, Robby." ***************************************************** Chapter Forty-Six: Presidential Aspirations The detention cell was about twenty feet square, with walls of a light gray color. Apollo found he'd have a roommate. As the metal door clanged shut, a slim young man who'd been sitting on the edge of one of the two cots stood up. "I'll be damned," he said. "Never thought I'd see you again, Tim." He was not too steady on his feet and there were slashes of shadow underneath his eyes. "I'd better explain," said Apollo, "That I've been having trouble remembering people here on Terra." Frowning, the thin young man with coal-black hair came forward with his hand held out. "Hell, I'm Lee Crane. Captain Lee Crane. Are you trying to tell me you don't even know who I am?" "Things have been a bit rough, lately, Lee. No, I didn't recognize you." "Has that quack Zucco been shooting drugs into you, too?" Crane rubbed at his left arm above the elbow. "He says it's just to calm me down, but... well, my memory is a shade fuzzy at times, too." "How long have you been here?" Apollo went over and sat on the other cot. Rubbing his hand through his black hair, Crane answered, "A while. Hard to keep track of time here." "Uh," Apollo tried to convert to Terran measurements of time, "weeks, though?" "Must be three or four. I know it was after I'd heard you'd been lost in action on Moonbase 31 Sierra. How'd you get back to Terra anyway?" He sat on his cot, watching the newcomer. "Not exactly sure, Lee," said Apollo. "What I have to do, though, is get to the Presidium and fill them in on what's going on out there." "You don't have a chance," said Crane, with a bitter laugh. "Hell, that's why they tossed me in this damn cage." "You mean, you haven't been able to tell them about what went wrong out there? About the Robinsons, the destruction on Alpha-See-Four and---" "They don't want that news to reach the people just yet," said Crane. "Yes, I know we've lost Moonbase 1 Zebra through 121 Quadros to the Alliance. Yes, I know that they were secretly sending people to Alpha-See-Four years before they launched your aunt, uncle and cousins into space. And I also know that they're still alive, despite the load of crap Alpha Control fed the public." "But all that destruction--- those lies--- all that cover-up--- Are you telling that the news media reports only what it's allowed to report?" "I'm afraid so. The government has a large staff just to make up stories about what's going on in space, Tim." "Why has the fact that the support planets have been destroyed been held back?" "The President wants that kept back," answered Crane, clenching his fists. "He knows that if the Presidium found out, they'd call for an all out nuclear first-strike on the Alliance." "What's wrong with that?" "It's important to his political health not to get involved in an all-out war right now," said Crane. "Or so his advisors think. It's a calculated risk he's taking, but he's thinking of his own future as well as the country's." "How can he keep this from the military?" "A very tight lid's been put on all reports coming in from out there," replied Crane. "When somebody does get back and try to tell the truth, he ends up in a joint like this. I'd bet there must be a couple dozen military guys like us locked up in various complexes around the country. We have mental problems, that's what the excuse is." "Then they may never let us out?" Crane shrugged. "The President's term has nearly two years to run," he said. "I doubt he can keep this quiet that long, but he's sure going to try." "Meantime, the Alliance keeps on destroying." "That's the size of it, Tim," said Crane, stretching out on the cot. He locked his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Serina?" said Apollo under his breath. "Are you sure this is what I'm supposed to do? Sit in a cell and count off the days?" Nobody answered him. ******************************************************* President Irwin Allen was a short, rotund and paunchy man. His hair was still a dark black, his eyes were deep set and slightly slanted. He sat behind his heavy darkwood desk, holding a sheet of thin yellow paper between his hands. "Well?" "It's Colonel Robinson," said Nelson from the chair in front of the big desk. "No doubt about that." "You've let me down, Harry." Allen let go of the memo and watched it flutter down to his desktop. Nelson looked up at the domed ceiling of the windowless Executive Office. "Up until that memo came from Wilson, I thought Robinson was safely stored away up on Moonbase 31 Sierra." "But he isn't, Harry," said the President. "You gave me your word he was up there where he couldn't do us any harm." "Since the Alliance attack on Moonbase 31 Sierra, all information out of there has been a bit sketchy, sir." "How'd Robinson get from there to here?" "He escaped, somehow." "Escaped? With Alliance Destroyers prowling Moonbase 31 Sierra, destroying every ship of ours that tries to get back from there?" Nelson decided to meet the President's gaze. "I don't know how he did it," he said finally. "He apparently won't talk about it." "Let me be perfectly frank with you, Harry," said Allen, his stubby fingers drumming on the fallen memo. "I'm disappointed in you. You're supposed to be on my team, helping me keep this whole mess under control." "It's getting to be an awful large mess, sir," said Nelson. "We may not be able to keep it quiet anymore." "I don't want to hear any more negative talk, Harry," the President told him. "How many people know that Tim Robinson is back on Terra?" "Well, Agent Wilson and his partner," said Nelson. "Doctor Zucco, of course, and a few members of his staff. And the girl who..." "What girl, Harry?" "Colonel Robinson's sister, Tam Robinson. But we can take care of her. There's no need to panic." "Do that, then, Harry," he said. "I hate to have to take actions like this, but it's for the good of the nation. Right?" "It is, yes," agreed Nelson. "We determined that long ago." President Allen picked up the yellow memo once again. "One other thing, Harry," he said. "What's this about an unidentified flying craft entering our airspace?" "I don't believe it's anything serious, sir," replied Nelson, looking up at the ceiling. "In fact, neither of the two ships seems to be of Alliance origin." "Two ships, Harry?" The memo fluttered in his hand as he waved it. "I've only been informed of one." "I'm sure notification of the second sighting is being routed to you at this very moment, sir," said Nelson. "What sort of craft?" "That has yet to be determined. Small, though, and conforms to no known Alliance design," Nelson said. "Both apparently have landed, at different times, in the rock canyon just beyond the city. We've dispatched a search team to the area." "If the Presidium gets the notion this is some kind of scouting party for invaders they'll put even more of our ships up. As it is now they've got our boys up round the clock." "There's no reason for the Presidium to find out," said Nelson. The President said, "See that they don't, Harry. And..." "Yes, sir?" "I'd like to see you keep on playing on my team," the President said. "So, please, don't fumble the ball again?" *************************************************** Chapter Forty-Six: Game Plan Late afternoon shadows filled the quiet living room. Tam Robinson sat in the picture-phone alcove, her lovely shoulders slumped. "What is this? Some kinda joke? That's where they said they were taking him!" "I'm sorry but we have no patient by that name in the Complex infirmary," repeated the chunky, grey-haired woman. "Then let me repeat the name in case you didn't hear it the first time: Robinson. Colonel Timothy Robinson. He's got to be there." "I suggest you contact the Military Information Service, miss. If you wish, I can give you their phone number." "It's all right. Never mind." Tam broke the connection. After sitting for a moment, she left the alcove. "It's really starting to look as though I did the wrong thing," she said to herself. "Lord, there's no telling where they took Tim." The door hummed. She went over to the talkhole. "Yes?" "Me, princess." Smiling suddenly, she opened the door. "Dad!" she said. "This is...I didn't even know where you were and...everything's gone to pot." Her father, Craig Robinson, was a lean, fiftyish man with dark-brown hair on top and grey-white hair on his sideburns, the resemblance to his younger brother, Professor John Robinson only a slight one. He wore the smart, off-white uniform of a Nationalist General. After hugging Tam, he came in the room and carefully shut the door. "Are you here alone?" "Now, yes. But---I had company earlier." "I should have told you what I was up to," he said, walking with his arm around her waist over to the pneumatic sofa. "Things are much worse than I thought." "Ugh! Tell me about it." They sat side by side. General Robinson said, "I had to leave without telling you, or at least I thought I did. I was on a mission for the Presidium." "Mission? I--I don't understand." "I didn't understand as much as I thought," said her father. "It appears that President Allen has been lying to us." Tam shook her head. "I don't get it. Aren't you and he supposed to be best friends?" "He's become a coward, Tam," he said. "He used to be a relatively honest man who put his nation's best interests first. Now, however, he's become so rattled by public opinion and the war, and his chances of being re-elected, that...well, he's changed." "Are you sure about this?" Nodding forlornly, the General said, "It's the Presidium's suspicion that we have already surrendered every one of Terra's moonbases and support planets. My initial investigations tend to confirm that suspicion." "How did he imagine he could keep that from us?" "It's possible that he's cracked under the strain," answered her father, shaking his head. "I think he honestly believes that he needn't launch a full-scale war, that we can make some kind of agreement with the Alliance." Tam asked, "You say you confirmed these suspicions of the Presidium, but do you have actual proof?" "Nothing concrete, no. But I've put together enough information to convince myself of his guilt." "Listen, Dad," said Tam, "maybe Tim isn't crazy after all. He's been trying to tell me the same thing." "I'm afraid I really don't know what you're talking about, Princess." "Tim. He's back." "Tim---I mean--Colonel Robinson? That's impossible!" said General Robinson. "I just left the Presidium and if your brother were here on Terra, they would've called him into an emergency conference by now." "I thought they knew he was back. I called the security people when I thought he was having some kind of break down." "He was on Moonbase 31 Sierra when it was attacked. He'd be able to give us proof of what---" The door didn't buzz this time, it simply snapped open. Agent Wilson and two other security men came quickly into the apartment. All were armed. Tam jumped to her feet. "He's the man I turned Tim over to!" she said, pointing at Wilson. "All right, you bastards, now I want to know where my brother is and what you've done with him!" "Good afternoon, General Robinson," said Wilson, training his pistol on him. "This is quite convenient." "What's the meaning of this, Wilson?" demanded the general, rising angrily off the sofa. "Who the hell gave you the right to break into my daughter's apartment?" "These are troubled times, sir." Wilson gestured at the open doorway. "I'm afraid you and your daughter will have to come with us." "Where to?" "Where you wanted to go, I believe, Miss Robinson. To see your brother." ******************************************************* "Make yourself at home," invited Robby, his tinny voice echoing some. They were in a cavelike room that had apparently been dug out of a hillside. Three shadowy corridors led away from it. There was a raw plank floor, three canebottom chairs and a plastic and metal table. Atop the table rested a portable electric lamp. Starbuck surveyed the big, drafty underground room. "It's not exactly a cabin on the Rising Star," he observed, "but for a hideout it's not so bad. What's all that stuff over against the wall there?" "Don't go poking into that," cautioned the robot as Starbuck went over to the cluster of electronic equipment. "That there's Mr. Chronos's. He don't like folks messing with his stuff." "Nonsense, Robert. We mustn't be rude to our guest." A brown-haired, bearded man in a rumpled green suit had emerged from one of the tunnels. "Good day, sir. I'm Chronos." "Starbuck." He pointed at the gear. "Looks to me like you got a primitive scanning system included here. Can you check various points of the city for my fr---" "Primitive, sir?" His wide eyes seemed almost ready to burst out of his face. "Why, this is the most advanced scanning and tracking outfit you'll find on the whole bloomin' planet." Chronos approached his equipment, flicked a speck of dust off one of the terminal screens. "Starbuck here ain't from Terra," explained the robot, "so he's used to some mighty groovier junk." "Indeed?" Chronos looked the lieutenant up and down, his scrutinizing gaze lingering on the holstered lasergun, the breathing mask on his face, and finally settling on the communicator in his left hand. "You do seem to be sporting some rather unusual equipment." "Trouble," announced a partly choked-up voice. "It's coming. Big trouble. Wow boy!" "Take a chill pill, Nan," advised Robbie. A thin, dark-haired young woman, dressed in a tight-fitting red skirt with a hemline that stopped just barely below her waist with a series of pink ovals that ran up and down the front from collar to hem, came over to them from another tunnel. Starbuck seemed a little disappointed when, upon taking a closer look, the "bare spots" were covered by shocking pink body tights that she wore under her skirt. Her scarlet boots fit her pretty well, though. "You're Lieutenant Starbuck," she said to him. "From the Battlestar Galactica, whatever that is exactly. You're anxious to find Captain Apollo." He took a step back from the girl. "Nancy Pi-Squared, I presume." "Guilty as charged," she said. "Nancy gets hunches and such," said Robby. "That's mostly how come she split the city scene a while back to hook up with us renegades. If you got second sight and all, it can cut up mighty rough for you." "I can do my own complaining," said Nancy. She sneezed, catching her spray in her bare hand. "Only thing I don't like about these caves is I'm allergic to dampness. It was you I was alluding to a moment ago, Starbuck. You're the one, for certain, who's heading into a lot of trouble." "You just sensed that?" "Yes." She rubbed at her forehead. "Certain important people don't want your friend to tell what he knows." "Knows about what?" Giving a disappointed shake of her head, Nancy answered, "I don't know...yet." "How about me?" "You'll find him okay. But...Nope, no use. I can't see beyond that right now." Starbuck glanced from Nancy Pi-Squared to Chronos. "What I have to do is zero in on exactly where Apollo is," he told them. "This communicator of mine is picking up a signal from his. Chronos, can you use your equipment to pinpoint his exact whereabouts?" "Nothing to it." He held out one hand. "Let me have a look at that communicator." Starbuck handed it over to him. "I have to get to him as soon as possible." "The Multiplex," said Nancy all at once." Robby whistled and spun his antennae at breakneck speed. "Is that where this cat Apollo is?" "Yes." "A wild surmise at best." Chronos seated himself at a keyboard. "Instead of blurting out unsubstantiated guesses, dear Nancy, try to be as unobtrusive as possible while I get the lieutenant an accurate location for his friend." "Wow boy, I can sure see why they bounced you out of City Tech," the dark haired young woman remarked. "I mean, a good teacher doesn't always ridicule other points of view." "Hey folks," said Starbuck, holding both hands up in a let's-quit-this-gesture, "I didn't come all this way to referee a debate. What's this Multiplex you mentioned, Nancy?" "Heck, that's whereat I used to work," Robby said. "Before I discovered how to---" "It is also the place," the girl said to Starbuck, "where you're going to have a good part of your trouble." "If Apollo is there," said Starbuck with a nod at Chronos's back, "can you show me a quick and sneaky way to get in there, Robby?" "Jinkies! Getting in the Multiplex ain't no problem. That there's easier'n spitting in a creek," the robot said. "What's a real bummer, though, is getting out again." **************************************************** Chapter Forty-Seven: Help From Above "I ought not to be doing this," said Doctor Zucco as they approached the door to Apollo's cell. "You ought not to be locking me up," said General Robinson. "That's what you should be concerned about." "I'm only following my orders, sir." "You talk like an Alliance Sentry. Don't you know that every man is responsible for his actions?" "I used to believe that," said the doctor, halting before the cell door and glancing nervously up and down the empty corridor, "a long time ago." After another cautious look around, he used his special keycard to unlock the door. "You can see your son for five minutes, General, and then I'm going to have to return you to your own cell. I really shouldn't be allowing even this." "Stand aside, so I can go in." Craig Robinson reached for the door handle. "Now, be prepared to leave sooner, in case someone comes along this way." "You really must learn to relax, Doctor." Craig strode into the cell. "Tim! Son!" he exclaimed when he spotted Apollo. "Is it really you, Tim?" Apollo stood up. "I'm afraid I don't understand." "He's having some memory problems, General Robinson," explained Crane. "Robinson?" said Apollo. "You mean---you're Tim and Tam's father?" The general was scowling. "What the hell have they been doing to you, son? Of course I'm your dad. Don't you remember?" "Actually...no." "Wait a minute," said Crane, moving closer to the general. "We can talk this all over later. You did come to get us out of here, didn't you?" Shaking his head, Craig Robinson replied, "I'm afraid not. Tam and I are prisoners, just like you two." "Tam as well?" said Apollo. "But she's the one who turned me in." "She thought they were going to help you, Tim," the general told him. "Your sister had no idea you'd be locked away like this." "Why have they grabbed you?" "Because our President is running scared. He doesn't want anyone who knows the true situation out in the support planets to talk." Crane said, "Hell, he's going to have to keep locking up an awful lot of people." "Unless he comes to his senses darn soon." The general put a hand on Apollo's shoulder. "My boy, I don't have much time. I had to bully that fool Zucco to give me a few minutes with you before locking me up. What I want to know is this...if I can manage to get word to the Presidium, will you testify as to the real conditions out there?" "You bet I will," Apollo assured him. "That's why I came to Terra in the first place." "I was certain I could count on my own son." "It might do your cause more good," suggested Apollo, "if I testified as myself." "As yourself? What are---?" Three anxious taps on the door interrupted him. The door swung open a fraction. "That's all the time I can give you, General. Sorry," said Doctor Zucco. "We have to go now." "But---" "If we're caught out here, it'll mean trouble for all of us." Craig Robinson studied Apollo's face for a few seconds. "Try to pull yourself together, Tim." Turning, he left him. ******************************************************* "Jinkies!" observed Robby. "If that there ain't a far out and groovy sight." He and Starbuck, with the robot in the lead, were traveling along an abandoned subway tunnel. Starbuck held a lightstick, while Robby led the way with his own built-in spotlight. "What are you hooting about now?" inquired the lieutenant, catching up with his mechanical guide. "I was merely remarking on that foxy chick up yonder. She sure manages to keep right spic and span...and it's almost like she's glowing some." "What chick---I mean, girl?" Starbuck swept the tunnel ahead with the beam of his stick. "I don't see any---Oh, my God! It can't be!" "Hello, Starbuck." Serina came drifting out of the darkness toward them. Her gown did seem to be glowing faintly. "This, I must say, is an odd place for a reunion. Planning some violence, are we?" "But... you're supposed to be...dead... Oh, wait... Somehow, you didn't really die...I...I think I remember you from... before." "Try hard, it'll come back to you." "You now travel in a...ship of lights...an advanced race selected you to...be...sort of their spokesperson," recalled Starbuck, the memory blurred still. "Yeah, and those people you're working for thrive on butting into other people's business." "They have a parental interest in the less fortunate, as do I," said Serina. "Like all thoughtful and caring parents, their efforts are sometimes misunderstood by our childish---" "Hey!" Starbuck wanted to point an accusing finger at Serina, but one thing stopped him: he loved Serina too, when she was alive. He kept that from Apollo so as not to spur any ill will between him and his best friend and commanding officer. "I suddenly understand what Apollo was getting at in that message he left me. About being involved in something I wasn't going to believe. The people you work for---they're behind this, aren't they?" "They're only taking an interest in a dangerous situation that might well spin out of control." "Yeah, they dragged Apollo here, right in the middle of an important mission so---" "Starbuck, Starbuck," said Serina patiently, "when are you going to realize that you really have no idea of what's important and what isn't in this universe? Part of wisdom is learning to accept the wise counsel of---" "I'm sorry, Serina, I can't accept any kind of counsel. Especially not from people who've kidnapped my buddy and thrust him into some screwball situation," said Starbuck, taking a deep relaxing breath from his oxygen mask. "Did you know, lovely lady, that they've thrown Apollo in the slammer, more or less?" "Of course I know that. Why do you think I'm here?" "What did they con him into doing this time?" demanded Starbuck. Serina raised a placating hand. "Listen to me for a moment," she requested. "Unless the situation that's been building on this planet is altered very soon, the two major powers will annihilate each other." "What do you mean by very soon?" "Right now, it's a matter of hours, as the Terrans measure time." "Allright!" said Robby, who'd been imprinting the conversation into his memory spools. "This is a dang good trip!' Serina gave the mechanical man a disdainful glance. "Can you hear me, robot?" "You betcha, hot babe. See you too, with my photoreceptors. Ain't I supposed to?" Serina sighed. "I assumed only Starbuck was aware of me. I don't like to have a lot of rustic primitives ogling me when I'm having an important conversation." "Oh, shucks, Serina," said the robot. "I ain't no primitive at all. Listen, heck, the way I modified myself, I'm near about your equal in the smart department." Serina could refrain from letting her nose wrinkle slightly. "My equal, with those kind of speech patterns? Surely you jest." "Hey, later on you guys can arm wrestle to decide," put in the impatient Starbuck. "Right now, Serina, you're supposed to be telling me what's going on." "We want to avert an all-out destructive war on Terra that would destroy a good portion of the population," she said. "Having, as is usual in an emergency situation, to work with the materials at hand. Apollo is doing this as a favor to me as much as for those I work for. He's volunteered, in a manner of speaking." "More like drafted, if you ask me." "He's obliged me by coming to my aid," said Serina. "After all, it's to your advantage, too, to keep these fools from destroying each other." "Okay, maybe so," conceded Starbuck. "But how does Apollo bring that off while cooling his heels in the slammer?" "You get him out and help him get to the Presidium, which is the governing body in this part of the world. Simple." She smiled and spread her hands apart wide. "You planned all this from the start? Knew it would go like this?" Serina said, "In any game there are bound to be unexpected variations now and then. Which is why I'm compelled to intercede directly at certain intervals so that---" "A game? I wonder what Apollo would say to that; his wife playing a game with him." "In a way, I am playing a game with him," she admitted. "Oh, but I forgot how hot-tempered you can be, Starbuck. Perhaps it was foolish of me to use the word 'game' with you." "Hot-tempered?" He took three steps toward the woman in the white gown. "Where did you get the idea I was hot tempered?" Smiling, Serina said, "I'll let you get on with your rescue mission. Try, though, to keep the gore and bloodshed down to a minimum." "Are you trying to tell me how to...Serina?" She simply wasn't there anymore." "Groovy!" exclaimed the robot, his antennae whirling. "Does that foxy chick put on an awesome show, or what? Apollo's wife, is she?" "When she was alive, yes," answered Starbuck. "It don't compute, dude," said Robby. "Never mind. C'mon, let's go." ***************************************************** Chapter Forty-Eight: Break In! Fingers steepled and chin resting on fingertips, Commander Adama sat in a comfortable chair in his quarters. "So they're starting up again already, are they?" "It was to be expected," said Siress Sybilla. Lowering his hands, Adama rested them on his knees. "And what exactly does the Council intend to do?" "Mutter and complain," she answered, smiling. "For now, anyway." The commander nodded. "There's some precedent for that." "They're very upset about your taking the Galactica away from the fleet. The majority feeling is that you're making a grave error." "Is that the unanimous feeling?" She smiled again. "You must realize I don't agree with my colleagues on this, Adama, or we wouldn't be talking." "I appreciate that." "Many of them feel that approaching so near to a planet like Terra may put the battlestar in a dangerous position," she told them. "I tried to convince them that you're doing the right thing." "It's quite possible that I'm doing the wrong thing," he said quietly. "We really can't be sure what we'll have to face." "Yet, you're going?" "Apollo and Starbuck are in serious trouble, at least that's my assumption," he said. "Apollo's my son, but I see it as my duty to back up all our warriors. There's a risk to the battlestar, I'll concede. Being commander of the Galactica, however, means I have to calculate the risks, weigh the dangers against the possible results." Sybilla said, "I have a good deal of faith in your judgment." A speaker announced, "Colonel Tigh to see you." "Admit him," instructed Adama. The black colonel came into the room, a sheaf of papers in his hand. "Commander, Siress," he said, bowing slightly. "We've just determined, sir, that the two vipers are actually on Terra. They apparently landed there." "Anything as to why?" "Nothing," answered the Colonel. "In one centon, we'll be within striking distance of the planet. Chief Engineer Shaddrack wants to know if you wish to reduce speed?" "No," said Commander Adama. "Tell him to continue at light speed." ************************************************** Robby whispered, "There'll be two of 'em 'round the next bend in this here corridor." "Armed?" "You bet your butt, Starbuck. They've each got rifles, the kind that kill you dead right off." Easing his pistol out of the holster, Starbuck told him, "Okay, you go on up to those guards and distract them. I sneak up in a jiffy and stun 'em." "They might shoot me." "So? You're made out of metal." "Even so, it might put holes in my carcass. I don't cotton to having no unsightly holes perforating my beautiful skin." "They won't have time to perforate you," Starbuck assured him. "Trust me." "Oh, shucks, I do. Really. But---" "G'wan." And the robot trotted along the shadowy underground corridor. "Halt!" ordered the first guard who noticed him. There were two of them, gray-uniformed, stationed in front of a wide metal door in a pale green wall. "Jinkies!" exclaimed Robby as he went shuffling closer to the guards. "I surely must've taken me a wrong turning. I'm looking for the Rapid Transit subcar train to--" "Identify yourself!" commanded the other guard. "Who is your owner? What is your operating license number?" "Peace, dudes," said Robby. "I just made a small mistake. Surely, I bet you I know exactly what happened, I bet you one of my directional tubes is on the fritz and so I---" "Step over here to us," said a guard. "I'm starting to suspect you dudes don't work for the Rapid Transit at all," said the mechanical man. "Nope, your uniforms ain't the right color and your attitude ain't the usual combination of courtesy and amiability one comes to associate with Rapid Transit." "What are you doing here, robot? This is an entry to a government building." "Really? Well, that really blows my mind. Here I thought I was---" Starbuck fired his pistol, twice, set to stun. Before either of the guards could turn his attention to the lieutenant, they were tumbling over. "You sure as heck took your own sweet time about springing into action, Starbuck," said the robot, turning his half-egg head to observe the approaching lieutenant. "I must've sweated me a gallon of oil." "Robots don't sweat." "I was speaking metaphorically." Stepping across the fallen bodies of the stunned and unconscious guards, Starbuck pointed at the door. "This leads to the section of the Multiplex that we want?" "Heck yes. Didn't I already explain all that to you? Once you used that there communicator of yours to get the exact location of your pal, I called on my vast and intimate knowledge of the Multiplex to pick us the best sneaky route in." "Okay," said Starbuck. "How many other guards are we likely to encounter before we reach Apollo's cell?" "Heck, it's going to be a real trip from here on," said the robot. "I don't guess we got to overcome more than fifteen or twenty guards." ******************************************************* Crane tapped his plastic spoon lightly against the edge of the plastic metal tray resting across his knees. "I've been kicking an odd notion around in my head," he said. Apollo was leaning, his arms folded, against the cell wall. His metal tray, the food untouched, was sitting atop his cot. "This is a good place for odd notions." "When your dad was here, you started to tell him something," said Crane. "You were going to explain that you aren't really Tim Robinson, weren't you?" "Apollo unfolded his arms. "Yep, I was." After watching him for a moment, Crane went on. "I'm starting to believe you really aren't Tim Robinson at all. At first I figured you were acting funny because these bastards had shot you full of drugs or something." "They didn't." "Now, though, I can see another explanation. Namely, that you don't know things that Tim would know because you aren't Tim." "Congratulations. You're starting to think logically." "Who are you, then?" "My name's Apollo." Crane dropped his fork onto his tray. It made a faint click. "Apollo, huh? Where do you come from, what planet?" "I don't reside on a planet. I live on an immense spaceship called a battlestar." "Battlestar? Sounds pretty big. Don't remember anything like that ever being commissioned." "It's not a Terran ship. We're new to your part of the universe." "Why are you here at all? Are you the front runner for some kind of invasion team from another galaxy?" "Nothing like that, no," Apollo, his words slightly slurry, said. "Then what?" "I'm not completely here by choice. Let's just say I was sort of persuaded to volunteer for this job." "What job? Getting yourself locked up?" "The job is to get certain information to your Presidium." Crane shook his head. "Doesn't look like you'll make it." "It's much too early to give up," Apollo told him. "The people I'm working for are pretty good at getting their way." "So you expect to get free of here?" "Eventually." "How?" "I haven't exactly figured it out yet," admitted Apollo. ******************************************************* A guard spun on his heel, went running for the nearest alarm box on the wall. "Better stop that there gent from pulling that red level," warned Robby, who was towering beside Starbuck in the corridor leading to the cell they were seeking. Starbuck fired his stun-set pistol. The beam hit the guard in the middle of his back and he went spreadeagle in midair. He seemed to float there for an instant before dropping to the ribbed metal floor. Straightening, Starbuck surveyed the narrow hallway. "You underestimate, old chum," he said as he lowered his weapon. "That last makes twenty-three guards encountered so far." "According to my figures, Starbuck, it's twenty-four. And that dude ought to be the last for a while." Starbuck skirted the two unconscious guards sprawled near his feet. "Apollo should be in one of those cells coming up on the right." "That one numbered 232 if our calculations are right," said the robot, lumbering along with him. "Then let's get him the heck out of here fast." The lieutenant stopped in front of the door he wanted. "A couple dozen guards asleep on duty is going to attract attention pretty soon." "I can pick this here lock easy as heck," offered the robot. "Got me a special took for just such a task built right into my chest." A little door started to open in the robot's middle, just beneath his voice light. "This is quicker." Starbuck reset his pistol and fired at the lock. *************************************************** Chapter Forty-Nine: Starbuck To The Rescue! Apollo had gotten up from his cot. "You hear something?" "Nope. What'd you hear?" asked Crane. "A thump, out in the corridor. Sounded like something falling over." "Probably they're just escorting another guest to his suite." "Yeah, I suppose that's---" The area around the lock was starting to glow a fiery orange. "Stand back," suggested a voice from the corridor. The now lockless door came rattling open. "Starbuck to the rescue!" announced the lieutenant. "I'll be darned!" said Apollo, smiling. "Never thought I'd be glad to see you, old buddy, but---" "Save the tearful reunion for another day," Starbuck said, crossing the threshold. "Gather up your belongings and let us depart. Who's your cellmate?" "Lee Crane, this is Starbuck." "Pleasure," muttered Starbuck. "You want to join us on this flit, Crane?" "Yeah, getting out of here sounds appealing." "Time to split the scene, Starbuck," reminded Robby from outside. "New associate of mine. Not as cute as you, Apollo, but smarter." He pointed at the robot with his thumb. "A renegade who has an intimate knowledge of this joint." Apollo hurried to the doorway. "We have a couple more people to break loose before we can go." "Listen, this isn't universal amnesty day, chum," Starbuck told him, exhaling hard into his oxygen mask. "There isn't time enough to---" "Which cell would General Robinson and his daughter be likely to be in?" Apollo asked Crane. "Only vacancy was 237. That's most likely where they put them." "C'mon," Apollo sprinted to cell 237. "Use your gun on this lock, Starbuck." "I suppose, eventually, when you're weary of ordering me around, you'll find time to thank me for this daring rescue." "Sure," said Apollo, "thanks." ******************************************************* Tam had been sitting, hands folded, on the edge of the cot. "You have the same feeling about him, dad?" "Yes," answered the general. "There's definitely something different about Tim." "And that uniform he's wearing is...well, it's not like anything I've ever seen," the young woman went on. "You say he told you he wasn't your brother?" "When I first picked him up out beyond the city, yes. He acted as though he'd never seen me before. Yet, he'd called me to...but, now that I remember, I don't think he was the caller. I don't think the caller was a man at all. The voice on the other end sounded like a woman." "A woman? Was it one of his girlfriends?" The general was standing near the door, in an at-ease position. "I was asleep when the call came, so I was a little fuzzy anyway," she answered. "And the phonescreen stayed blank. All I heard was a voice. 'Tim Robinson is in trouble. Come get him...' Then directions on how to reach him." "But it was a woman---you're positive." "Yes," she shook her head. "But her voice was...strange...unusual." "Yet you went." "Yes, because...at the time...there was something about the voice...I just automatically believed her. Whoever she was." "But who else could've known where Tim was?" "I have no idea." "There's something strange about all this," said her father slowly and thoughtfully. "As though we're dealing with some kind of entity that we can't quite...Wait! Stay right there." The handle of their cell door had begun to glow and shimmer. A moment later, the door opened. Starbuck, gun in hand was grinning at them through his oxygen mask. "I can see why you'd want to save the lass, Apollo," he said over his shoulder. "The middleager, though, doesn't look like he's worth the--- "Your uniform," said Tam, "it's just like his...like Tim's." "Tim?" Apollo stepped into the cell. "Tam, we're going to get you and your father out of here. Let's move." The young woman took hold of his arm, allowed him to guide her clear of the cell. General Robinson, frowning deeply, followed. "Who are you, young man?" he asked Starbuck as he brushed by them. "Just a freelance jailbreaker." "You're a bit too flippant." Starbuck exhaled into his mask. "Would you be surprised to learn that you're not the first person to mention that?" he asked. "Now, if you'll fall in behind my robot buddy, we'll get your astrum to safety." ******************************************************* "Jinkies!" said Robby. "I know a dandy place!" The party was making its way along a snaking underground tunnel. Starbuck and the robot were leading, followed by Apollo, Tam and the general. Crane brought up the rear. "A safe place?" asked Starbuck. "Shucks, you already been there, Starbuck. It's our pad in the canyon." "Yeah, but I don't know if---" "What's he babbling about?" asked Apollo, moving up next to the lieutenant. " A safe location for you folks to hole up while you're making plans and such," explained Robby. "I heard you and the general gabbing about needing a base of operations." "Tam's place isn't safe. Neither is the general's," said Apollo. "They'll obviously look for us there." "They ain't got any idea our pad even exists." "What we want to do is set up a meeting with the Presidium," said Apollo. "Can we contact them from here?" "Sure enough, Apollo. Mr. Chronos built us our own private phone system. Oh, the images get a mite fuzzy now and then. Heck, though, considering we don't pay no phone bill, why, it's boss." Apollo asked Starbuck. "You've been there? What sort of building is it?" "Not a building, a cave." "Cave?" "Nothing fancy, mind you," said the robot. "Secure and safe, that's for sure. Nobody'll ever find you there." Apollo came to a decision. "Okay, that's where we'll go." *************************************************** Chapter Fifty: A Traitor In The Midst "It's my own design," said Chronos proudly, gesturing at the picturephone sitting on a lopsided crate against one wall of the cave. "Somewhat unorthodox in appearance," observed General Robinson, "but if I can use it to contact the Presidium and set up a meeting, that's fine." "It works better than most phones you're used to," Chronos informed him. "Sit yourself down on that barrel there, General, and give it a try." Starbuck was a few yards from the scene, taking another deep breath from his oxygen mask. Someone tapped his elbow. "Huh?" Nancy Pi-Squared had moved up close to him. "Got something to tell you," she whispered. "Go ahead." "Let's move over against the wall." "Okay." He linked arms with her and they crossed the earthen floor. "What is it, Nan?" "I...sense something." "Another hunch, you mean?" "Yes." "Well, you were right about the Multiplex. Lots of guys tried to make trouble for me there, but---" "You're in danger again. All of you." "You mean because the military folks from the Multiplex are hunting for us? I don't think there's much chance they'll pick up our scent." "Not that," she said, taking hold of his arm. "I'm...getting a message that...someone is going to...betray you." Starbuck looked into her lovely face. "Someone here?" She brushed a curly lock of stray hair away from her left eye. "I'm sorry I can't get a clearer impression...but I am sure someone here with us is going to cause you trouble. Tell them where you are." "One of your gang or one of mine?" "Can't be sure." "You ought to work on polishing these visions, Nan. Get 'em into focus so--" "You're making fun of me." "Nope, no," he assured her. "Just wishing you could give me more details." Her grip on his arm tightened. "He...he's going to send a message to them, tell them you're here with us," Nancy said. "That'll foul us up, too." "He? So it's not Tam?" "She's not the one, no." "How about the general? He's supposed to be calling the Presidium on your homemade phone, but he might be---" "I...I don't know if it's him or not." Starbuck glanced away from the girl, and noticed Crane step into the mouth of one of the tunnels. Crane had his hand slipped in under his tunic, clutching something. "Stay here, Nancy." Starbuck broke away from her. "I want to follow up a hunch of my own." Starbuck's stroll across the cavern looked casual. He even paused to adjust his mask, although it was already straight up and down his face. When he was near the mouth of the tunnel, he ducked in. He whipped out his lightstick, clicked it on and sprayed the beam. Crane was crouched a dozen yards in, some kind of voice communicator in his hand. "This is how to get to the place," he was saying. "They're hiding in a---" "Show's over, old chum." Starbuck went galloping across the rocky floor, and, without even breaking his stride, booted the communicator clean out of Crane's grip. The gadget cracked into the wall, squawked, hit the floor, bounced twice and cracked in half. "Dammit!" Starbuck swept the crouching figure with his light. "Here I risk my neck to save you and you turn out to be a phony. A spy planted to pump Apollo." "You're misunderstanding what you just saw me doing." "I suppose you were really broadcasting weather reports to the sunfruit growers in the area?" "Look, I'm on your side, Starbuck. I was locked up just like the rest of you." "Heck, you were planted. Oldest trick in the world." He leaned more closely into his face. "Good thing I got to you before you---" "We can work out some..." Crane suddenly lunged, grabbing up a stone from underfoot. He charged at Starbuck, striving to club him. The lieutenant backed, kicked out again. This time, the toe of his boot connected with the man's chin. Crane groaned, staggered, stumbled into the wall, fell and passed out. Starbuck was about to bend over him, but he spun around instead. "Don't...Oh, hello, Nancy m'love." "You okay?" "Tip top," he replied. "And say, that was a pretty good hunch you had." "They often are," she admitted. ******************************************************* General Robinson stepped away from the makeshift phone systems. "We'll meet with the Presidium in one hour at the central headquarters," he announced. "That ain't all that far from here," said the robot. "You'll have plenty of time to sneak over." The general added, "The President will be there, too." "He'll deny everything," said Tam, "accuse us all of being crazy or traitors. We really, you know, can't prove any of this." The general turned to Apollo. "Tim...Apollo...you told Doctor Zucco that you actually met my brother in space...helped him get to Alpha-See-Four...you saw the settlements that Alpha Control said wasn't there...saw what the Alliance did." "I intend to tell them everything we know," said Apollo. Tam was shaking her head. "They may not believe him," she pointed out. "All President Allen has to do is say that this man is Colonel Timothy Robinson. Tim has suffered a complete mental breakdown and thinks he's somebody named Captain Apollo from another system. Just more proof that he's a madman." "He might try that," acknowledged her father. "Not," offered Starbuck, "If we give them a little tangible proof that we're what we say we are." "Such as?" asked Apollo. "Our ships, the vipers," said the lieutenant. "Nobody on this planet builds anything like that. If I was to fly over this Presidium headquarters building in my viper, do a few stunts..." "Good idea," said Apollo. "And maybe we can also contact the Galactica. Get them to put on some kind of show of power or strength." "What's the Galactica?" Tam wanted to know. "Maybe we can show you," said Starbuck. 'Apollo, old chum, you go to the meeting. I'll fetch a viper from out in the rock canyon where I...oops! Maybe the ships ain't there no more." Apollo's grin faded. "Right, the lawmen may have confiscated them." Starbuck looked over at Nancy Pi-Squared. "Any hunches, love?" The brunette pressed the fingertips of her right hand to her forehead. "I...I can see the two craft," she said slowly. "Still where you landed them... but..." Starbuck bit his tongue. A stogie would've tasted pretty good right now. "But what?" "There are three guards watching your ships." "Only three?" he snapped his fingers. "No problem. C'mon Robby. Let's go fetch a viper." The robot's head swiveled, internal gears clicking. "You other folks can get to the Presidium, okay if I don't guide you?" "I'll do that," volunteered Nancy, brushing her hair with her hand. Rubbing his metal fingers together, Robby said, "Then, let's boogie, Starbuck." ******************************************************* No one but Apollo saw her. Serina, white gown faintly glowing, appeared on the far side of the cavern. While the general and his daughter talked about the upcoming meeting with the Presidium, Apollo eased away and crossed over. "Yes, Serina?" he asked her. Serina said, "You've been doing quite well, beloved, all things considered." "Thanks. Is that worth a kiss?" "I have no time for that. I brought you some news," Serina said. "Not very good news, I fear." Apollo took a deep breath before asking, "What's wrong now?" "The Alliance is voting, even as we speak, on a surprise nuclear attack against these people." "Missile attack?" "Yes," said Serina, nodding. "If that happens, this nation will automatically launch a counterattack." "Won't that destroy most of the planet?" "Yes." "Then they ought to have more sense than to---" "Sense and politics don't often go hand in hand. Look at what happened to our colonies." "How much time do we have?" "Possibly no more than a few hours." "That may be time enough," said Apollo. "You have a plan?" "You wouldn't have popped in here if you hadn't expected me to, Serina, my love." "True." She smiled and vanished. ********************************************** Chapter Fifty-One: Fetching A Viper Robby switched his photoreceptors to X-ray mode, enabling him to see through the protecting boulder. "I detect three fuzz over there," he announced as he turned his half-egg head to Starbuck. "Two got rifles, third fuzz's merely wearing a little ole pistol in his holster. Imagine he's the head honcho, seeing as how he's sitting on a stump while them other two is standing stiff and straight front of your vipers." The lieutenant double-checked his pistol, making sure it was set at the stun positions. "You up to creating another small diversion?" "Sure thing, I get my kicks doin' that. But don't leave me standing around yacking so long this time, huh?" "A promise." The robot gave Starbuck an encouraging punch on the upper arm, and then lumbered away from him. His further progress through the canyon was no longer quiet and surreptitious. Robby's feet clanged on the sward, the gears and pistons of his half-egg head were clicking, and his hands were making the sagebrush rattle. "Hold it right there, robot!" called out the uniformed lawman with the pistol, when the lumbering robot came stomping into the canyon. He left hi stump, drawing his weapon. "Far out! Ain't this a groovy trip?" Robby pretended to scan the vipers with his photoreceptors. "There are no robots assigned to this detail. Why are you here?" The officer stalked closer to the robot. "Getting me a close look at these here far out flying machines," explained Robby. "Danged if they ain't everything I heard tell they was and then some. Yessir, I'm glad I come to get a gander for myself." "Who was it that told you about these ships being here, robot?" The robot let his gears click for a second. "Insufficient data, man. Don't go hollering at me for a spell and I'll search my memory banks," he said. "No, I know it' weren't Grandma Malley over to---" "Never mind. Just get the...hey!" He'd heard the hum of Starbuck's stun beam and turned just in time to see his two subordinates go flopping over onto the grass. "What the heck's goin' on here?" "Oh, shucks, ain't you figured that out yet," said the robot. "You're being ambushed." "Ambushed?" He was facing the vipers, but didn't see Starbuck as the pistol hummed again. The beam took him in the lower chest. His arms flapped out once, and he gurgled and collapsed. "I'll admit you was faster that time, Starbuck, but you still took a heck of a time getting---" "I had to crawl on my belly," Starbuck holstered his gun. "I'm not exactly used to that means of transportation and it...Oh, for Sagan's sake." "Jinkies! It's the chick in the shiny nightgown." Serina had appeared next to Starbuck's viper. "I suggest you turn on the communication unit in your ship, Starbuck." "Why?" "Apollo is most anxious to talk to you." As Starbuck went climbing into his ship, he inquired, "Something else wrong?" "This whole planet may be on the brink of a nuclear holocaust." "Oh," said Starbuck, "is that all?" ******************************************************* President Allen was staring out at the tinted, bulletproof side window of his hovercraft, watching the city unroll below him. "Tell me this again, Harry," he requested. Nelson was sitting next to him on the rear passenger seat of the Presidential aircraft. "We have to expect that General Robinson will have this fake Colonel Robinson address the Presidium." "You're sure, now, he isn't Colonel Robinson?" "Not according to what Crane reported to me from---" "You think Crane is dead, by the way?" "We don't know yet. All communication broke off before we could get a fix on his position." "I don't like to pick on you, Harry, but I think you messed up, there," said the President, stroking his chin. "Had we been able to capture them back before---" "Crane is a good man and---" "Was he a good man? Certainly not anymore, whether he's dead or alive." "He was a good man, then," said Nelson. "They simply tumbled to him somehow. At any rate, he learned that the fellow's real name is Apollo." "Odd name. Couldn't it be that he's Tim Robinson and just plain goofy?" "We only said he was crazy so as to have an excuse to lock him away, re-member? There's no real evidence he's unbalanced at all." The President narrowed one squinty eye. "Okay, so Robinson introduces his son to the Presidium and then what?" "He'll tell them what he knows. That the Jupiter 2 made it to Alpha Centauri and that all our settlements and installations on the fourth planet have long since been destroyed. "Still, he's an alien, Harry, and it's his word against mine. I'm the President, after all." "This is an alien being presented to them by General Craig Robinson," reminded Nelson. "The general is just as popular as his brother was with the Presidium." "We can label him a traitor, say he's sold out to the Alliance." "They won't buy that. Not without a heck of a lot of proof. Which we don't have the time to manufacture." The President was scowling. "How am I going to win them over, then?" "Maybe," suggested Nelson, "you might offer them the truth." "The truth? Are you out of your mind, Harry? I can't do it." "Not the whole truth...merely an edited version," said Nelson. "Then spring the treaty idea." "I was saving that for my Fireside Chat telecast next week."