The Cylons' Secret: Battlestar Galactica 2

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  “No sir.”

  “You’re going to be our personal representative down there.”

  “Me, sir?”

  Sing nodded.

  “You’ve always seemed able to stay one step ahead of situations around here, thinking about what’s going to happen next. I still notice these things even though I’m an old man.”

  The admiral sighed. “This whole assignment was supposed to be a walk in the park, you know. They needed to give me one more trip before I retired. Me being a war hero and all, it couldn’t be behind a desk. So they gave me this. I don’t want to be remembered for some battle from twenty-five years ago that I mostly just managed to survive. This backwater exploration trip is my final chance at glory. Maybe we’ll get a little bit of it, despite what they thought back at Fleet HQ.”

  “We’re getting a response sir!” the comm officer called.

  “Put it over the speakers,” Sing ordered.

  “Yes sir!”

  “Galactica, this is Research Station Omega. Please respond.”

  “This is Galactica. This is Admiral Sing, commander of the Galactica. It’s good to hear that you’re still there. We understand you’ve been out of touch.”

  “I am Doctor Fuest, the acting head of the station. We didn’t even know if anyone knew we were still functioning! We’re glad to hear the sound of your voices, Galactica.”

  Adama and Sing glanced at each other. They sounded friendly enough down there.

  “Research Station Omega,” Sing continued. “We are coming down to see you. We have accessed the old Colonial records. We know you have Cylons there.”

  “Well, yes,” the voice on the wireless replied, “We don’t call them that. We try to have a different relationship with our intelligent brethren. We call them companions.”

  “You know that we haven’t seen a Cylon in over twenty years?” Sing asked.

  The doctor hesitated before he replied. “I didn’t. I knew of the beginning of the Cylon-human war. But after all this time, I thought you would have found a way to make peace.”

  “We did, after a fashion, twenty years ago. We had an armistice then. But the only way we could find peace was a total separation of man and machine.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. I guess we have done things differently here than the way they are done elsewhere in the Colonies. I believe each of us has something of value for the other.”

  Adama thought, Now wouldn’t that be nice? Perhaps, if the universe was a different place.

  But then, in this small corner of space, it was a different place.

  “We look forward to your visit.” The doctor paused. “We have had earlier visitors, with unfortunate consequences.”

  Another pause.

  “Please bring no weapons, and we will bring none either,”the doctor said at last. “We have had a very unfortunate event happen recently. We were visited by a group of I believe they call themselves raiders. It did not go well.”

  “Can you explain?” Sing asked.

  “People were killed. Companions were damaged beyond repair.

  “We do not wish to repeat our errors. We are both a part of the Colonies, even though we have been separated for close to thirty years.

  “Will you comply?” the doctor asked.

  “We will honor your request,” the admiral replied after a short pause of his own.

  “Thank you,” the doctor replied. “We very much want to talk in a peaceful fashion. Omega Station out.”

  Adama turned to Sing. “What do you think, sir?”

  “I’m inclined to believe they are telling some version of the truth. I imagine they need our help. As self-sufficient as they may have been they may need supplies. They may even want to shut down the whole operation, and get back home.” The admiral allowed himself the slightest of smiles.

  “I imagine we’re almost as much of a surprise to them as they are to us.”

  He clapped Adama on the shoulder.

  “I’m going to send you down, Bill, to negotiate. Keep your eyes open—especially the ones in the back of your head.”

  Skeeter wanted to jump out of his skin. Tigh had called them back together one more time.

  The Cylons will get you.

  “We have made final arrangements with the Research Station,” Tigh was saying. “The plans have changed. We will accompany the shuttle, but we will not land. As long as those on the station keep their part of the bargain, we will as well.”

  If you don’t finish your dinner . . .

  Skeeter never thought he would actually see a Cylon.

  Maybe now he didn’t have to.

  He was a trained pilot. He would only see them from high in the air.

  In an odd way, he felt disappointed.

  If you don’t clean your room . . .

  Maybe, if he could see them for real, he wouldn’t need to be scared of them anymore. Maybe he could banish the old woman’s voice once and for all.

  “We are an escort,” Tigh continued, “and will keep a watchful distance. The remaining Vipers in the Commander Air Group will remain on full alert until further notice. We will be flying out with the shuttle in thirty minutes. That is all.”

  So Skeeter was still flying, just not as far.

  Why couldn’t he shake this creepy feeling?

  The Cylons will get you.

  CHAPTER

  16

  RESEARCH STATION OMEGA

  Until today, Vin had thought his job was the easiest of all.

  The three “youngsters,” as the doctor called them, despite the fact that they had all passed twenty, all had separate jobs at the research station. Laea took care of the farming and other outside duties, while Jon functioned as the doctor’s assistant, an increasingly important task as Doctor Fuest slowed with age.

  Vin worked with the companions. He had been fascinated with them since he was small.

  It had started with the accident that had taken out a whole building of the facility, and claimed all their parents’ lives. At first, Vin had blamed the companions for his parents’ deaths. They were efficient machines. Why hadn’t they been able to detect the overheating coils and fuel leak that had caused the explosion? Had they wanted the humans to die?

  But over time, Vin had seen that a far greater number of companions had perished in the blast. And he had come to view the remaining companions as hardworking and knowledgeable, each within its own designated area of expertise. But any one of the machines by themselves was far from all-knowing.

  He had learned the quirks of the companions over time, how Gamma worried about the doctor’s health while Epsilon constantly watched the station perimeter for any signs of change. Even though they had learned new tasks at the station, each companion was still true in part to its original manufacture. He had learned to repair and maintain each and every one of them, and had even helped Beta in the design of newer models.

  He could talk to the companions. He wished he could talk to humans as well. Jon was so caught up with his aid of the doctor, he rarely seemed to have time for anyone.

  And Laea . . .

  Laea had become a woman, a beautiful young woman. The three of them—Jon, Vin, and Laea—had grown up as brothers and sister, and had treated each other as such.

  Until now.

  Vin could hardly stop thinking about her.

  She was his sister. You didn’t think that way about your sister!

  But she was the only woman he knew.

  He did his best not to stare at her. He found it uncomfortable to be alone with her, uncomfortable to talk when she was in the room.

  So they kept their distance.

  But now the outside world had come, and the companions were showing signs of ancient programming that even they had seemed to have forgotten. They were surrounded by violence that he had never seen from the companions before.

  He thought he knew these machines very well. Did he?

  Maybe Vin needed to take a step away. Maybe he needed to rec
onnect with the other humans, to make that extra effort to talk to them as the people he remembered from childhood.

  The station was changing around him faster than he could understand. But parts of change could be good.

  Jon, Laea, Vin. Perhaps they would all start talking again.

  But could they talk enough to save the station?

  Laea stared at the table in front of her. She had rarely found a meeting so pointless.

  They sat in their usual places around the long table. The companions were on one side, the humans on the other. She wondered why they always sat this way. She had always assumed it was the doctor’s wish, or the wish of whoever had come before the doctor. But their positions separated them, establishing an order that seemed to contradict the mandate of this station. It had not been so bad before, at those hundreds of other gatherings she had taken part in over the years. Back then the doctor would take time to compliment some new initiative of the companions’, or Vin would make some of his lame jokes about the station breaking down. When they were young, Laea remembered how amused she had been when Beta would extend all its wrenches in the air and twirl them all at once. They had felt more like a family then. Now, it seemed they had no joy, no pleasure left in their lives.

  It all seemed very odd. No one was pleased with what had happened. At least they had determined that much. No one knew what to do. But everyone was willing to go on with the meeting as if it might accomplish something.

  Only a few moments ago, she had thought this meeting was going to tell them everything. Why the companions had anticipated violence. What had happened to the Viper. Who or what controlled the great ship in the sky. But she only heard the same words over and over.

  “We were unaware of the problem,” Gamma said for maybe the fourth time. “It will not happen again. We will make the proper adjustments throughout the companions.”

  “We are here as equals,” Epsilon spoke up at last. “Is that not the case?”

  The doctor stared at the companion.

  “That was our purpose here,” he answered at last, “the reason this station was created. We all know that. But our protocols insist that you defer to the station staff in a time of emergency.”

  “Doctor,” Gamma replied, “we have been in a time of emergency ever since the second accident. Since that event, the companions have learned to perform every function on this base. We do not want to lose you. As you have seen by our recent actions, we will do everything possible to protect you. But, if and when you can no longer function, the base will go on.”

  The doctor was silent. He nodded his head once.

  Beta took up the argument next. “We only want what is best for all of us at the station. Perhaps we acted rashly. But you insisted on being in the open, a potential target. The scavengers thought you had taken their first pilots prisoner. We surmised that they might want to take you prisoner and force an exchange.”

  The doctor blinked as if just now remembering something important. “Did you take the pilots prisoner? You said something about that before.”

  “Are they alive then?” Jon broke in. “Why haven’t we seen them?”

  “We have been busy preparing for other contingencies,” Epsilon replied. “They are well taken care of. We knew you would want to see them eventually.”

  “But you have not brought this matter—the prisoners—to us,” Jon countered. “We are supposed to work as a team. It seems that you are taking on a great deal of the responsibility yourselves.”

  “We have been taking on responsibility for day-to-day routines for quite some time,” Gamma added. “It was natural for us to take responsibility for crisis management.”

  “We need to be able to manage all functions of the research center,” Epsilon joined in. “As you yourself have stated, Doctor, you will not be with us forever.”

  Laea knew what was different. The three companions spoke almost as one, as though they all shared the same ideas. Before, they had each seemed a bit closer to the nature of their individual manufacture. Butler Gamma was all for efficient station operation. Mechanic Beta worried about keeping everyone and everything operational. Warrior Epsilon was concerned with procuring foodstuffs—birds and fish mostly—for the humans—as well as bringing up points on defense, which, until recently, they had never seemed to need. Now the companions seemed to be finishing each other’s sentences.

  She noticed something else as well. The companions had always used a deferential tone with the doctor, the legacy, she guessed, of their original Cylon programming. Now they seemed to challenge him. The current crisis had brought out something new in the companions.

  Maybe that was the difference she had noticed over the past few days. It was the purpose of this research center to see if both humans and machines could benefit from a newly structured society. In the early years, Laea understood, they had thrived. As long as she could remember, they had had to depend on each other to survive. But the founding humans had always taken the lead. Now, perhaps it would be better if the more capable companions would take control.

  No one disputed the companions’ remarks. Instead, Jon discussed how to make plans for any similar events that might happen in the future. She realized that Vin hadn’t spoken at all. She found him glancing moodily in her direction a couple of times. Did he feel the same way she did?

  Laea found her attention starting to wander. This morning, using her personal computer, she had plotted the likely trajectory of the fallen ship. She had hoped there might be taped records of the landing, but the stationwide system marked them as “unavailable.” She had frowned when she first read the word. Did that mean no records had been kept during the chaos around the scavengers’ arrival? Or were other members of the senior staff reserving them for study?

  She worked out the final coordinates without the help of the machines. For some reason, she felt the need to keep this very much to herself. She definitely saw some changes in the companions of late.

  If they could keep secrets, so could she.

  She had already thought of a number of reasons for her to leave the compound. Some of the farming area needed to be upgraded. They required some new soil to properly grow the vegetables. She would tell the senior staff she needed to spend the day taking samples. That is, if anybody bothered to ask.

  She seldom left the research center. None of them did anymore. Years ago, she and her brothers used to explore. They used to do everything together.

  What she did was every bit as important as what anybody else did. She could fix most anything. The companions brought her those things not covered in their programming. Sometimes she and the companions repaired them together.

  No one had time to talk to her now. But why?

  “Is there anything that anyone would like to add?” the doctor asked. His traditional ending to every meeting.

  No one spoke, and the meeting ended. As she left the meeting, she realized she hadn’t spoken either. Why didn’t she tell the others about the ship?

  It was her one true secret.

  Her one moment of freedom—away from all of those who didn’t care . . .

  Now that the meeting was over, she would find out what had happened to the small ship—and she would do it for herself.

  Tom Zarek would walk a little farther every time than he had before, and he would walk three times a day. Now, two days in, he had a good idea of his surroundings.

  He took a knife and marked trails around his new home. He memorized the quickest way to the stream, and found that it led down to a slow-moving river. He had even found a small cave—small and empty, he was pleased to discover. It would give him another place to go in case the lander was discovered.

  He slowly climbed out of the valley, in the direction that his lander had flown and fallen. When he climbed to the top of the ridge and stood in the clearing between the trees, he could see a distant shine, tiny glints of silver in the distance. He was quite sure that glow was the top of the towers at the research sta
tion.

  It made him realize how close he really was, how little altitude his lander had gained before it plummeted back to the planet’s surface. He guessed the station would be less than a day’s walk from here, even with the uneven terrain.

  That also meant that, if the Cylons were coming for him, they would have been here by now. He doubted that Cylons would have to do anything as primitive as walking.

  That thought made him feel just a little bit safer.

  His exploration nearly done, he did his best to patch up the comm system. He found a small set of tools in a compartment beneath the pilot’s seat, and decided it was time to look at the innards of the wireless array.

  The front panel came off easily. He grabbed the high-powered light he had found in the survival kit and shined it inside. It was something of a mess.

  The crash had jumbled some of the hardware, pushing whatever had sat above the wireless into the wires below. A couple of those wires had pulled free, while another, which seemed quite long, had torn apart in the middle. Any or all of them could be what ailed the wireless.

  Two of the wires could be reattached, but the third one was a total loss. He hoped he could find some other similar wiring elsewhere in the ship.

  He looked for other panels that might be easily opened in other corners of the cabin. He found five, all full of various circuits and a few very short wires. Nothing was quite as long as the missing wire, though he saw some that he thought he might splice together.

  When too tired to walk or mess with the ship’s innards, Tom took inventory. He had forty-eight different types of guns on board. Maybe Boone had been more frightened of what was going to happen than Zarek had thought. Most of the weapons he knew. A couple were so large he found them a bit intimidating.

  And though the variety wasn’t great—most of it was surplus rations packed to last for the long term—Tom figured he had enough food for the better part of a year. Supplemented by the safe local drinking water, and—perhaps eventually—some experiments with the local vegetation, and maybe a bird or two, Zarek could last out here indefinitely.