Battlestar Galactica 5 - Galactica Discovers Earth

by Glen A. Larson

  "You shouldn't have said that, Jamie," he said severely.

  "You're right," she said, as if an enormous burden had just been lifted from her shoulders. "I lied to him."

  "You did?" said Anderson, puzzled. "How?"

  "I told him you were my boss," she laughed, walking to the door. "You aren't. You're my ex-boss, Hot-shot!"

  She slammed the door behind her.

  It had a very nice sound to it.

  34

  RECONSTRUCTED FROM

  XAVIAR'S JOURNAL AND

  DOCTOR MORTINSON'S RECOLLECTIONS:

  Mortinson was relaxing in an old naugahyde recliner chair, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe and looking out over the rocky beach when he heard the door of his house open. He arose and walked toward the foyer.

  "Who's there?" he called.

  "A friend," said a low thick voice.

  "Friends knock," said Mortinson, looking at the compact body and finely chiselled features of Commander Xaviar.

  "Ordinarily I would have done so," said Xaviar smoothly, "but you did send for me."

  "What are you talking about?" said Mortinson. "You tell me who you are and what you're doing here right now or I'm calling the police."

  "I just saw your transmission, Doctor," said Xaviar. "You extended an invitation to us to continue our exchange of ideas which the police so rudely interrupted."

  "Several million people saw that telecast," said Mortinson suspiciously. "Can you prove to my satisfaction that you're who you say you are?"

  "If it's proof you want," said Xaviar, touching a small device on his belt and vanishing, "it's proof you'll get."

  He reappeared on Mortinson's recliner.

  "How did you do that?" said Mortinson.

  "All in good time," smiled Xaviar. "This is just one of the things I can teach you."

  "Why did you come to me, instead of Troy and Dillon?" asked Mortinson warily.

  "They are outcasts, criminals," said Xaviar, "banished from our society. They came here only for personal gain."

  "I find that difficult to believe," said Mortinson, who had developed an instant dislike of the man now confronting him, though for no reason he could put his finger on. "They gave me certain information, and offered to help our people."

  "Of course," said Xaviar. "By duping a man of your stature and gaining your acceptance, they would find doors opened to them on every level of your culture."

  "What kind of doors?" said Mortinson, cocking an eyebrow.

  "Prestige. Power."

  "I'm afraid you vastly overrate my importance," said Mortinson. "I pay my bills like everyone else. If I don't, they turn off my electricity, disconnect my phone, and repossess my furniture. I pay to get into Dodger Stadium, and there's no restaurant in the country that tears up my bill because of my status. I have a certain reputation among those who deal in nuclear power, but if you want to see what good it does me, come over to my office—if you can get past two thousand kids screaming obscenities and throwing rocks at the windows."

  "You misunderstand me, Doctor," said Xaviar, rising and walking around the room like a caged tiger. His restless energy made Mortinson nervous. "Imagine how a fugitive from another world might live among you with his superior knowledge. You must pardon the comparison, but it would be like a man living among articulate apes. He could have anything he wanted."

  "I suppose so," said Mortinson. "But even if what you say about Troy and Dillon is true, and I find it increasingly difficult to believe it, what can they accomplish now, with their photos in every newspaper in the county? That insensitive little bastard Anderson even has videotape footage of them meeting me outside the jail. If they're criminals in your society and in mine, where can they set up all this power and enjoy all this prestige?"

  "They have a plan that includes traveling into Earth's past," said Xaviar.

  "Is that possible?" asked Mortinson.

  "Doctor, I intend, during the coming days, to show you just how possible it is," said Xaviar with a mysterious smile.

  "Why would that be of interest to Troy and Dillon?"

  "Have you an encyclopedia?" asked Xaviar, looking around the room at the book-lined walls.

  "Yes. The Britannica. Just to your left."

  Xaviar pulled out a few volumes at random and began paging through them rapidly.

  "Look here," he said excitedly. "1777. If Lafayette and his French forces hadn't intervened at the Battle of New Orleans, the American Revolution might well have ended, unsuccessfully, within a year. They were out of money, Washington's troops were deserting by the thousands, the South was still unhappy with Adams and Jefferson even though the abolition of slavery was omitted from the Declaration."

  "But why would that have been of interest to Troy and Dillon?" said Mortinson, repeating his earlier question.

  "If they had secretly aided Lafayette and then sat on the sidelines for half a year, the American forces would be in total disarray and on the verge of surrender. Then they could have stepped in, won the war, and been acclaimed Presidents, Kings, or anything else they wanted."

  "I find that a little far-fetched," said Mortinson.

  "All right," said Xaviar, looking through another volume. "Ah . . . here's a more straightforward one. Caesar was killed—assassinated by his Senators—in 44 B.C. What if they had saved him at the last moment? Between Caesar's gratitude and his appreciation of their weaponry he would doubtless have put them at the head of some of his armies—and the Roman Empire would have replaced the Republic half a century sooner. But with Troy or Dillon at its head, rather than Augustus."

  "You're serious, aren't you?" said Mortinson, his eyes widening.

  "More serious than you can possibly guess," said Xaviar. "They could aid Napoleon at Waterloo, Lee and the Confederacy in the Civil War, they could replace Alexander or Genghis Khan or Charlemagne or Attila the Hun. The possibilities are endless. Their power would be unchallenged, for they wouldn't have to distribute it among their armies; their weaponry is quite sufficient for two men to defeat an army."

  Xaviar was rolling now, the words tumbling out of his mouth like water, his pupils dilated, his body in constant motion as he stalked around the room.

  "Think of it, Doctor! They could rule the world, even the world of today, in a matter of a few years. Never forget the maxim: Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. They would be revered as gods, Doctor. As gods!"

  "I'm suitably impressed," said Mortinson. "But why did they seek me out—and why are you here?"

  "I keep telling you!" yelled Xaviar. "They wanted to gain your confidence!"

  "What good would that do in the late Roman Republic?" said Mortinson.

  "I don't know," said Xaviar. "Possibly you had information they needed."

  "They didn't have an awful lot of nuclear generators back then," said Mortinson, making sure he kept a few heavy pieces of furniture between them.

  "Your library, Doctor!" said Xaviar impatiently. "By convincing you they were acting for the good of humanity, they would doubtless have gained free access to your library—and especially your volumes of history."

  "They could get the same from any public library," said Mortinson. He knew he shouldn't be arguing with this man, but he couldn't keep himself from pointing out the obvious.

  "But they don't know how to use a library," said Xaviar. "They're completely unfamiliar with your customs. This was the easiest way."

  "All right," said Mortinson. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I accept everything you've said. This still leaves a very important question unanswered."

  "And what is that?"

  "Why are you here?"

  "To talk to you," said Xaviar, visibly trying to control his emotions. "To discuss the situation with you and find out the most likely historical eras where they might be hiding."

  "I see," said Mortinson, finally piecing the situation together.

  "Then you will help me . . . us?" said Xaviar.


  "I'll have to think about it," said Mortinson. "After all, I—"

  He was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

  "Excuse me," he said, walking into the kitchen and picking up the receiver.

  "Doctor Mortinson?" said a feminine voice.

  "Yes," he answered. "Who is this?"

  "Jamie Hamilton. We met at—"

  "I remember," he interrupted. "What can I do for you?"

  "Our two mutual acquaintances are in big trouble. A very evil man named Xaviar has escaped from their custody and they have to catch him before he does serious and possibly irreversible harm to Earth."

  "Oh?" said Mortinson, unsurprised.

  "Be careful. The man's a total maniac. And I think he's going to be trying to contact you."

  "Absolutely," said Mortinson as calmly as possible.

  "What do you mean?" said Jamie, quick on the uptake. "He's there, isn't he?"

  The line went dead.

  Mortinson turned and found himself staring into Xaviar's cold cruel eyes. In the Galactican's hand was the end of the phone cord, which he had torn from the wall.

  "It's a pity, Doctor," said Xaviar. "I'm a generous man. I would have rewarded you well for your help." He drew his hand weapon. "But I am afraid our partnership must come to a very premature end. I really don't need you any longer, Doctor Mortinson."

  There was a soft hum of power, and Mortinson tumbled to the floor.

  35

  RECONSTRUCTED FROM

  DILLON'S CONFIDENTIAL REPORT:

  Troy and Dillon were waiting for Jamie as she stalked out of the United Broadcasting Building.

  "What are you guys doing here?" she said, urging them to walk rapidly down the street with her.

  "We don't have our bikes," said Dillon, "and we're still not conversant enough with your customs to hire a taxicab without taking a chance on exposing our lack of knowledge. Besides, we don't have any money."

  "Did you get in touch with Doctor Mortinson yet?" asked Troy as Jamie stepped to the curb and hailed a cab.

  "Yes," she said. "I'm sure Xaviar was there with him."

  "What did he say?"

  "Not much," said Jamie. "The line went dead."

  "Please explain," said Troy.

  "Just as he gave me the impression that Xaviar was in the house with him, the phone just . . . stopped. We weren't disconnected, because I called again and there was no ring."

  "Perhaps he was outside," said Dillon doubtfully.

  "You still don't understand," said Jamie. "It would ring even if it weren't answered, unless someone had done something to it. I even checked with the phone company, and they had no record of it being disconnected and no report from Mortinson of any malfunction."

  A cab pulled up and they got in.

  "Any chance your boss will be following us again?" asked Troy.

  "He's not my boss anymore," said Jamie.

  "He terminated your employment?" asked Dillon.

  "Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head, "I terminated it."

  "What will you be doing?" asked Troy.

  "I don't know," she admitted. "But after spending a few days with you two and seeing what you're up against and what you're trying to do, somehow all the work I've been doing seems to fade into insignificance."

  "We can speak about you to Adama," suggested Troy. "Considering all the help you've given us, and all the heip we'll still be needing, I'm sure we can arrange for you to come aboard the Galactica on a permanent basis."

  "Hold your horses," she said quickly. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. I've spent my whole life here."

  "It was just an idea," said Troy, grinning.

  "Horse feathers!" she grinned back at him. "You know I won't be able to resist it, don't you?"

  "The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted.

  They drove in silence for the remainder of the trip. The cab deposited them at Mortinson's front door and they raced inside.

  The doctor was lying on the floor. He was just returning to consciousness when they reached his side.

  "Are you all right?" Jamie asked, falling to her knees next to him.

  "I think so," he said. "I feel like I've just gone the distance with Muhammad Ali."

  "What's he talking about?" asked Dillon.

  "He says he's sore," said Jamie sardonically.

  "Where's Xaviar?" asked Troy.

  "He's probably gone by now," said Dillon. "It takes more than an hour to recover from a stun. What was he here for, Doctor?"

  "I'm not sure," said Mortinson. "Possibly to convince me to be his partner in crime, though what he needs with a nuclear scientist is beyond me."

  "Bombs!" suggested Jamie.

  "No," said Troy. "We've got stuff more powerful than any bombs yet developed on Earth. And besides, Doctor Mortinson doesn't make bombs. There are all kinds of nuclear scientists, current video dramas to the contrary."

  "He also needed my library," said Mortinson. "I have the impression that he was interested in pivotal historical eras."

  "That makes a lot more sense," said Dillon, helping Mortinson to his feet and leading him to a couch. "Jamie, could you bring him some water?"

  Mortinson sat silently, rubbing his head, while Jamie poured him some water and Troy examined the bookcases.

  "There are some volumes of an encyclopedia on the floor, but on the assumption that they're printed in alphabetical order, none of them seems to be missing. Could you go through your library and tell us what might have been taken?"

  "Troy, that'll take forever!" said Jamie. "He's got tens of thousands of books."

  "Most of them are scientific texts or works of fiction," said Mortinson. "I don't have more than 200 volumes that would have been of use to Xaviar. Let me take a look."

  Dillon supported him as he got shakily to his feet and began walking up and down his bookcases, pencil and note pad in hand.

  Twenty minutes later he sat down and handed a list to Troy.

  "These are the missing books?" asked the Galactican.

  Mortinson nodded, and Troy surveyed the list:

  The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, by Gibbon

  A Stillness at Appomattox, by Catton

  The Crusades, by Oldenbourg

  The Peloponnesian Wars, by Thucydides

  The Holy Bible

  "That's it?" said Troy. "Just these five?"

  Mortinson nodded. "As far as I can tell, that's all I'm missing."

  "Well, this shouldn't be too hard after all," said Dillon.

  "You think not?" said Jamie.

  "Five books, five dates. Nothing to it," he said firmly.

  "Except that the Peloponnesian War lasted for thirty years, the Crusades took more than a couple of centuries, the Roman Empire was around in one form or another for hundreds of years, and the Holy Bible covers about four millennia," she said.

  "Oh boy," said Dillon softly.

  "Well, I'm afraid we're going to need your services again, Jamie," said Troy. "You'll have to pick out the most likely dates for us to search for him."

  "And the most likely locations as well," added Dillon.

  "We'll leave you to your own devices, Doctor," said Troy. "I'm sure you can appreciate the urgency of the situation."

  Mortinson nodded.

  "Good. Then let's get going."

  "Have you moved the Vipers?" asked Jamie.

  "No," said Dillon. "Why?"

  "Because I'm trying to remember which is the closest library to the route we have to take. I might as well check out the five books and start doing my homework."

  "Good luck," Mortinson called after them as they walked out the door.

  "That's exactly what we're going to need," said Troy grimly.

  36

  RECONSTRUCTED FROM

  MASS DEBRIEFING SESSION:

  They decided to begin at the beginning.

  "The Holy Bible goes further back than any of the other books," said Jamie.

  "Who
would you say is the first major figure?" asked Troy.

  "Well, Adam was supposed to be the father of the whole human race, but Darwin's findings have proved this to be nothing more than a myth. I would say Moses, a Jewish prophet, would be the first figure of power."

  "When did he live?"

  "More than three thousand years ago," said Jamie. "And he survived for nearly a century."

  "We can't spend a whole century waiting for Xaviar to appear," said Troy. "Can't you pinpoint the most important moment of his career?".

  "He did so much," said Jamie, thumbing through Genesis and Exodus. "He accomplished fantastic things in Egypt and led his people through the desert to the Promised Land."

  "How long was he in the desert?" asked Troy.

  "Forty years."

  "No good, Jamie. Xaviar can't waste that much time any more than we can. What single moment was pivotal in his career?"

  "Probably when he received the Ten Commandments."

  "What are they?" asked Dillon.

  "The basis for almost all Jewish, Moslem and Christian law," she replied. "Supposedly Moses went alone to Mount Horeb, which is now known as Mount Sinai, and God delivered ten moral laws to him on a stone tablet."

  "And the man who possessed the actual tablet would be in a position of enormous personal power if he chose to be?" asked Troy.

  "I suppose so," said Jamie. "Not because of the commandments, but because he had spoken to God."

  "When did this occur?"

  "I can't give you an actual date," she said, "but I would guess it to be about 1275 B.C."

  "It's as likely a place to start as any other, I guess," said Troy, setting the controls.

  The old man with the long beard and stern demeanor walked up a narrow trail to the base of the mountain. He carried a staff in one hand, and wore a tattered robe spun from sheep's wool.

  "Is that him?" asked Troy from his place of concealment.

  "How should I know?" said Jamie. "They didn't have cameras back then, you know."

  "Who else would climb the mountain?" asked Dillon.

  "Let's get back to the Vipers," said Troy. "It doesn't matter if that's Moses or not, or if he spoke to your God or not."

  "Huh? Why?" asked Jamie.