Battlestar Galactica 8 - Greetings From Earth

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Battlestar Galactica 8 - Greetings From Earth Page 9

by Glen A. Larson


  "That'll be all, thank you." He stood up and walked away from the angry captain.

  Apollo, alone, roamed the morning woods. He'd awakened early, feeling vaguely uneasy, and decided to do a little solitary exploring of Paradeen. At least of the area in the vicinity of the house Sarah's late father had left for her.

  The mossy ground underfoot was a deep golden color and the trunks of the highrising trees a deep blue. The early morning sunlight 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 the troubles they were trying to escape from were apparently just as frequent here, and on faroff Earth as well.

  Dry leaves crackled off on his left.

  Spinning, Apollo drew out his pistol.

  "Won't do you a bit of good, sonny."

  "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.

  "Impressive, ain't it?" A gaunt old man clad in a bedraggled two-piece white suit came tottering into view from between the blue trees. "Name's Kurtiz. Sometimes known as Kurtiz the Hermit. Who're you?"

  Swallowing, Apollo answered, "Captain Apollo. How'd you do the trick with my—"

  "Weren't a trick," replied the hermit, whose tangled white hair hung down to his narrow shoulders. "Merely a simple demonstration of low-level telekinetic powers. I'm plum full of odd abilities and knacks. That's what gives folks the notion I'm strange. Why're you on this planet, sonny?"

  "Visiting," replied Apollo. "Matter of fact, what are you doing here? I was told just about everyone was wiped out by—"

  "Baw, that ain't so," the hermit said. "Even them halfwit robots know that ain't so. There's quite a few survivors scattered hither and yon. I'm one of 'em and just about the most interesting of the lot, too. What brings you to Paradeen?"

  "We came here with Sarah and Michael. She's the daughter of—"

  "I know who she is, sonny."

  "Okay, we tagged along to make sure they arrived safely."

  Kurtiz made a dry chuckling sound. "I suppose you was aiming to go back to whereabouts you come from pretty soon?"

  "Soon, yes."

  The chuckling grew louder, shaking the old man's lean frame. "That there's going to be harder than you think."

  Frowning, Apollo asked, "What do you mean?"

  The hermit said, "Oh, you'll find out soon enough, sonny," 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, Hector, old chum," he said, slowing.

  "Shall I serve breakfast out here?" asked the android, who was standing on the blue grass. "You can have snapjacks, scrambled—"

  "Before chowing down," Starbuck said, "I crave a little conversation."

  "With me?" Hector brightened. "Well, sir, that's very flattering, Mr. Starburst."

  "Starbuck."

  "Starbuck, of course. Very flattering, because Pop keeps trying to tell me I'm such a dimwit that talking to a blank wall is more illuminating than—"

  "I was taking a stroll in the woods yonder," said the lieutenant.

  "You should have asked me to go along, to explain the names of all the trees, shrubs and specimens of wild life."

  "There's one specimen I'm particularly interested in," he said slowly. "I saw, at least I'm pretty darn sure I did, someone lurking in the brush."

  "Oh, really? Were you frightened or—"

  "Mostly I was perplexed. Because I'll swear that was a human being watching me. A female human being with very prominent red hair. When I tried to approach her, she took off. I lost her in the woods and bramble."

  Hector's plastic head nodded up and down. "That certainly sounds like Queenie."

  "Queenie?"

  "She usually doesn't drift this far from the City," reflected the android. "Yet the young woman does seem to have a knack for sensing such things and I imagine she got wind of your arrival and—"

  "City?" Starbuck put both hands on the mechanical man's shoulders. "What city would this be, Hec?"

  "There's really only one City," answered the android, pointing to the east. "Lies some ten miles from here, sir."

  "Who lives there?"

  "Very few now. Only some squatters like Queenie and her friends," said Hector. "Not a pleasant bunch, I might add. The girl herself can be sweet, but . . . such a temper. Once she—"

  "But who built the city, what size is it?"

  "It's quite large and was constructed a few decades ago by earlier settlers on Paradeen," said the android. "An earlier conflict destroyed most of the dwellers and later settlers here have tended to shun the City."

  "But the thing is a real city, with buildings and all?"

  "Well, you couldn't call it a city if it didn't have buildings, could you? That's the kind of dippy question my Pop is always criticiz—"

  "What I mean is, there are official buildings and libraries and all that? Places where records are kept?"

  "Certainly." Hector nodded.

  The lieutenant rubbed his hands together. "I want to see that city," he said.

  "Oh, I don't know, sir. I don't think we could guarantee your safety there," said the android, a look of concern touching his plastic face. "Why don't you just stay here and I'll tell you about the City. Wouldn't that be—"

  "Nope, I'm going to see it," said Starbuck. "If we're lucky, there'll be all sorts of material stored there. Stuff about Lunar Seven and Earth."

  "Well, perhaps after breakfast I could fly you over it in the hoverer," offered Hector.

  "The hell with after breakfast," Starbuck told him. "We're going right now, old chum."

  "Right now?"

  "You got it," said Starbuck, turning on his heel and running toward the parked hovercraft.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  She was waiting for him at the edge of the woods.

  "Morning, Sarah," Apollo said, stopping beside her.

  The blonde young woman didn't quite meet his eyes. "I wanted," she said quietly, "to talk to you. Alone."

  "Sure," he said, leaning back against the bole of a tall blue tree. "Something wrong?"

  She kicked at the grass at her feet. "Not exactly, no," 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 our people."

  She looked up at him then, put her hand on his arm. "But you can't leave me here alone."

  He smiled. "You're not exactly alone," he said. "You have your children. And your husband."

  She shook her head. "Michael isn't my husband," she said.

  "Huh?"

  "My husband was killed on Lunar Seven, over two years ago," she answered. "Michael and I were forced together by necessity. He's a scientist, like my father."

  "And your husband wasn't?"

  "He was a farmer," she said. "A bright intelligent man, but interested in growing things and not in destruction and death."

  "Doesn't seem to me that either your father or Michael are destructive," he said. "Obviously I never knew your father, but judging by what he left behind—"

  "That's beside the point," she cut in, impatient. "I don't love Michael. I don't want to be left alone with him here on Paradeen."

  Apollo asked, "Why is he with you at all?"

  "I told you it was necessity." She shook her head, blonde hair brushing her shoulders. "My father needed someone to help hide us on Lunar Seven while he made preparations here. In return father made room for Michael and his little daughter."

  "Only three of the children are yours, then?"

  "Yes. Cindy, the smallest blonde one, is Michael's daughter."

  "Well," said Apollo, "whatever you feel ab
out him, it seems to me Michael sure lived up to his part of the bargain. He looked out for you and your kids on Lunar Seven. And, more important, he got you all safely here. Maybe you aren't aware of how he stood up for you, when you were our reluctant guests onboard the Galactica. He—"

  "Yes, yes, I know. He's a wonderful person," she said. "Nevertheless, I don't want to spend my life with him. Living with him here in this house my father built."

  Spreading his hands wide, Apollo said, "These are problems you and Michael have to work out."

  "They could be your problems," she said. "You must realize what I'm saying. I'm fond of you and I think you—"

  "Wait now, Sarah," 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 minutes. I don't work that way and I think you're just clutching at straws. You don't like Michael at the moment and here comes Apollo. So you—"

  "Do I strike you as that shallow? Some idiot kid who throws herself at the first—"

  "Not at all," he said. "But you are, if you'll slow down and think about it, rushing this. 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."

  "If you did have time, though," she said hopefully, "then . . ."

  "All sort of pointless, Sarah," he said. "We'll be leaving here in a day or so, heading home for the Galactica."

  "Suppose you don't leave?"

  He frowned down at her. "We'll leave."

  Sarah said, "All sorts of accidents can happen."

  Apollo took hold of her shoulder. "What are you talking about, Sarah?"

  "Nothing," she said, pulling away. "It's just that . . . never mind." Turning away from him, she went running back toward the house.

  Apollo met more of the survivors about an hour later.

  Both Sarah and the hermit 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 the vipers. He hadn't been able to find Starbuck at the house and Cassie had been more than busy getting the kids dressed and fed. So Apollo was heading to check up on the status of their ships by himself.

  "Got to be careful dealing with Sarah from now on," he reminded himself as he walked rapidly down through the high grass.

  Far overhead three large orange birds were gliding in lazy circles across the morning.

  He'd been surprised to learn Sarah and Michael weren't married. He'd naturally assumed they were. Shows how easy it is to arrive at the wrong conclusion, he thought.

  "She is an attractive girl, though," he admitted to himself.

  But there wasn't any possibility he'd be settling down on Paradeen. 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 ragtag fleet was settled.

  "And maybe we're getting closer to some answers. This planet might—"

  "Hold her 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 nothing to me." He came stomping closer. "You're one of them fellers come in them fancy ships down yonder, ain't you?"

  "I am. Name's Apollo."

  "I'm Sut Meadows," the large youth informed him. "Got a farm, me and my brother, 'bout a mile from here."

  "You survived the Alliance attack pretty well."

  Sut shrugged. "We're awful hard to kill," he grinned. "My Grandpap says it's on account of we got mighty tough genes. You figure as that's so?"

  "That'd account for it, sure," he replied. "Look, I only want to go down and take a look at my ship."

  "Don't blame you." Sut kept the gun pointed at him. "Seeing as what's happened to it. I ain't sure if it was the Morelands or not."

  Taking a step forward, Apollo asked, "What's happened to it?"

  "Best take a look," advised Sut. "I just did. Never seen so much fancy hardware. Yessir, must of really been something before it was all smashed up."

  "Smashed?" Ignoring the gun, Apollo started moving again. He started running downhill.

  Sut tucked his blaster away in his pocket. "I guess you ain't dangerous, pilgrim," he said, taking off after Apollo. "Hey, wait up."

  Cassie walked away from the house, slowly and not really heading anywhere in particular. The midmorning sun was warm, the sky clear.

  "Cassiopeia," called Michael from behind her.

  She stopped and turned. "I was thinking of having a small look around," she said.

  He caught up with her. "I suppose that's safe."

  "You seem upset about something," the young woman noticed. "It can't be the kids, because they're all in tiptop shape."

  "No, it's Sarah," 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 very sympathetic ear."

  "She's not very happy," he said.

  "You can't expect her to be," said Cassie. "Finding that her father was dead, after traveling all this way across space."

  "There's that, sure," he said. "But mostly she's unhappy about me."

  "Give her time to get used to Paradeen. Then your marriage'll get back on the old—"

  "Sarah's not my wife," he said. "We should have cleared up that misunderstanding a lot earlier."

  "What about the children? I thought they were—"

  "Little Cindy is mine," he said. "The rest of the bunch belong to Sarah. Her husband was killed back on Lunar Seven. So was my wife." He turned away from Cassie, shoulders hunching slightly. "That's why I feel the way I do about the Alliance."

  Nodding, she asked, "How'd you and Sarah get together?"

  "Her father's idea. There was a—"

  "Ahum." Vector had come walking up to them.

  "What is it?"

  "Excuse me for intruding, sir," said the android with a small bow. "I thought, however, I ought to inform you of something."

  "Sure, go ahead."

  After producing another throat-clearing sound, Vector said, "It's that ninny Hector. Well, actually Hector and your friend Lieutenant Starbuck. Although I'm certain it's basically Hector's fault, since he hasn't half the brains I built into that nitwit skull of his."

  Cassie asked, "What's happened to them?"

  The mechanical man tapped his chest. "Noting their absence, I started using my built-in tracking devices on them," he explained with a slightly smug smile. "It appears they've gone to the City."

  Looking from the android to Michael, Cassie said, "What's the City?"

  "Not a safe place to go," answered Michael.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Apollo stepped out of his viper ship and then leaned back against it. "Damn," he said.

  Sut eyed him. "Pretty 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, Paradeen ain't such a bad little planet," Sut pointed out helpfully. "Oh, sure, we get raided by them Alliance Destroyer ships now and then, but if you can put up with that, why—"

  "No, we don't intend to settle here." He went striding over to Starbuck's viper. "We were damn fools not to post a guard last night. But I thought there weren't any people around."

  Sut watched him climb into the cockpit of the second viper. "That one's pretty bunged up, too, ain't she?"

  It didn't take Apollo long to confirm that. Dropping to the ground, he said,
"These Morelands you mentioned, Sut. 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 poking around. More curious than anything else."

  "Did you notice if they took anything? Like parts and such."

  "Fact of the matter," said Sut, "me and 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 ship that had brought Michael, Sarah, Cassie and the children here to Paradeen. He noted that the door to the main cabin hung slightly open. "If they damaged this one, too, we really are in a fix," he said, opening the door wide.

  Somebody had.

  The central control panel had been worked on with a spanner. Dials were cracked, switches bent, gauges dented.

  And again wires and tubes had been removed and weren't in evidence in the debris scattered on the cabin floor.

  "Whoever did this really didn't want anybody to leave here."

  He sat down in one of the cabin seats for a moment, drumming his fingers on the ruined panel. Then he got up and went back outside.

  "I think I better have a talk with the Morelands," he said. "Can you show me where they live, Sut?"

  Sut 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."

  "Nevertheless," said Apollo, "I'm going to drop in on them."

  A city it was.

  Block after block of it stretched away into the distance. The buildings were of glass and metal, many of them rising high into the midday sunlight. And all of them were grey with age and neglect, overgrown with twists and tangles of vines. The wilderness had long ago begun taking back the land the City had been built on. Weeds grew up thick through the cracks in the paving, grass was high in what had been small park areas.

  "Desolate, isn't it?" observed Hector. "As well as forsaken, null, devoid, vacuous, abandoned and—"

  "Yep, it's all of that," agreed Starbuck, chomping on his cigar.

  "Well, I imagine you've seen enough." Hector had their hovercraft hanging in the air at the rim of the City. "Best not to do too much sightseeing on your first jaunt. No, so we'll head back for—"

 

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