02 - The Cylons' Secret

by Craig Shaw Gardner - (ebook by Undead)

  Athena nodded, glancing at Laea. “So she told us.”

  Zarek pointed at the smoldering remains in the middle of the field.

  “Current evidence suggests that big ship was Cylon.” Zarek looked up and down the clearing. “I have the feeling that toaster isn’t alone. And we just made a big noise that might well attract the others.”

  Athena hoisted the other pilot up to lean against her shoulder. “Can you walk?” she asked. He managed to nod. She turned to the others.

  “I’m getting Skeeter back to the ship.”

  They hobbled together back toward the river.

  Laea didn’t move. She looked straight at Tom Zarek. He was tall and thin. His dark hair fell just over his ears, and his eyes seemed to look right through her. He really was very good looking. Maybe that was what made her stomach feel funny.

  “Come with us,” she said.

  “And leave all this behind?” He glanced down at his rifle. “I think you’ve convinced me. Whatever you’ve got has to be better than Cylons.”

  “Watch out!” Athena called from the other side of the clearing.

  Two more red flashes came out of the woods on the far side of the field. Both hit the trees just above their heads. Laea and Tom fell to the ground as Athena pushed Skeeter behind a tree.

  But Laea had gotten separated from the others. They were more than twenty paces apart, across the open field. The Cylons would kill anyone who stepped out in the open.

  “Get out of here!” Laea called. “We’ll find our way back overland!”

  Athena nodded. “I’ll get Skeeter back to the ship!” She dragged the wounded man farther back into the trees.

  Zarek fired a round in the general direction of the Cylon’s blasts. He waved to his right.

  “Go back into the trees. Run, that way! My ship’s just out of sight. I’ll cover you!”

  He fired back at the tree line three more times.

  Laea sprinted into the woods. She saw a patch of silver in front of her. It was the lander, just down a short path. As she ran closer, she saw that the ship was sitting at an odd angle atop a pile of tree limbs it had gathered on its way down. She heard Zarek’s gun blast away behind her—three times—then heard his running feet crashing through the underbrush.

  “I’m right behind you!” he called. “The door’s on the other side!”

  She half ran, half climbed through the debris to reach the far side of the lander. The hatch stood open.

  Tom was right at her back. “Get inside!” He turned and fired again and she stepped inside.

  It was dark in the lander, the only light coming from some small windows half-covered by branches. The back half of the small space was lost in shadow. There was still enough light, however, to see a large pile of guns in the middle of the floor.

  Tom jumped in after her, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “We can get some lights in here if you want,” he said. “I was saving the ship’s battery in the hope I might get a signal out. Now that somebody’s found us, I don’t have to worry about the wireless.”

  Laea heard a series of sharp pings, like the sound of pebbles hitting the ship’s outer skin.

  Zarek frowned. “I think the hull of this thing is good against small-weapons fire. But we’re easy targets here. I killed one Cylon, but now I’m guessing we’ve got two more. But that’s just the beginning. That ship was big enough to hold thousands.”

  Laea flinched as more pops rattled against the hull. “Shouldn’t we wait here? If there’s a Battlestar out there, can’t they save us?”

  “I’m sure they can, and I’m sure they will. We just don’t know how long it’s going to take them to get back here. I’m also sure that the Cylons have plenty of weapons that could cut this ship in two. We need to find someplace that isn’t quite so exposed.”

  He walked over to the center of the lander’s cabin and started to pick through the guns. “I know a cave where we can make a better stand. It’s not far off—on a ridge a few hundred klicks to our west. We should be able to see the rescue party and defend ourselves.”

  Laea looked out the nearest window. She saw nothing but trees. “But that means we’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Well, we have the firepower.” Tom kicked gently at the pile. “Ever handle a gun?”

  Laea nodded. “My brothers and I used to take target practice out at the edge of the cultivated fields. I’ve never shot at a moving target, though.”

  “Well, I think you’re going to get your chance. We’ll have to gather up enough guns, ammo, and supplies to last us for a couple of days, and just hope that’s enough time for the others—”

  Laea put her hand on Tom’s arm. “Did you hear that?”

  He nodded, and pointed toward the sound. Something was moving in the shadows at the far side of the lander.

  Zarek raised his rifle and pointed it at the darkness.

  A man, dressed all in black, stepped into the light. He pointed a handgun directly back at Zarek’s head.

  The newcomer grinned. “Come on now, Tom, we don’t want to make a mess.”

  “Creep!” Tom replied.

  “That’s what they call me.”

  If Tom Zarek was thin, this newcomer was downright emaciated. His skin was almost as pale as Gamma’s white enamel. He had sunken cheeks and thinning hair. The hand that held the gun shook a bit. He did not look at all healthy.

  His gaze flicked to Laea.

  “Nice of you to bring company.” He looked back at Tom. “And nice of you to leave me behind.” He took a step closer.

  “Where were you?” Zarek demanded. “By the time I got into the lander, Boone was dead. But I couldn’t see you anywhere!”

  The Creep shrugged. “Let’s say I took a step away from the fighting. I can tell when the odds are against me. There’s a reason the Creep never gets caught.” He lifted his gun slightly, so it was aimed over Tom’s head. “So, maybe part of the fault lies with me.”

  Zarek kept his rifle aimed at the other man. “If I had had you with me to shoot our guns, we might have taken out a Cylon or two. We might have gotten out of here!”

  The Creep grinned. It made his face look like a skull. “So we both made mistakes. You keep on making them—leaving that door open. What say we start fresh? I’ll put down mine if you’ll put down yours.”

  Tom slowly lowered his rifle. The Creep carefully returned his handgun to a holster at his side.

  The Creep stared at Laea. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend. You know that raiders always share whatever they find.” He glanced back at Tom. “But I heard your speech back there. About blasting your way out of here and making for that cave. I think that plan would work better if you had three people fighting the Cylons. So let’s get our supplies together, shall we?”

  He paused to look at Tom and Laea in turn. “We can all catch up when we get to the cave.”

  CHAPTER

  21

  Adama realized there would be no easy answers. He felt as though the doctor, and perhaps all the humans in this place, wanted so desperately for the facility to survive that they had even stopped looking at the questions. He supposed everyone had parts of their lives that were so difficult that they were hard to look at. He had his own problems trying to balance his work with the needs of his family—problems he was probably still trying to run away from. But he hoped his family problems would never reach beyond some simple misunderstandings.

  Misunderstandings here seemed to end in destruction and death.

  The young woman, Laea, had seemed to know that something was wrong, and had wanted to help. He wondered if she would be able to show Athena and Skeeter anything that could explain the complexities of this place.

  He supposed he could talk to everyone over this grand dinner the doctor had planned. And after that, all they had to determine was what to do with the prisoners from the raider vessel, the human survivors of the station, and close to one hundred somewhat modified Cylo
ns.

  Everyone had left the meeting together, all going to see the prisoners. They had walked in a line along a series of long hallways. Gamma led the way, followed by Jon and Vin, and then the doctor, quite spry despite his frail appearance, flanked by Epsilon and Beta. Adama and Tigh were happy to bring up the rear. It gave them a chance to get a good look at all the parts of the station they were passing through—not that there was that much to see in these featureless hallways. But it also gave them the opportunity to talk a bit in low tones without any of the others appearing to notice.

  “Why didn’t they tell us about the prisoners sooner?” Tigh whispered.

  “I think they didn’t want to. Maybe the doctor did. But he seems overwhelmed. I think he might genuinely want to leave here and go back to the Colonies.”

  “So he’s happy we’re here.”

  “Yeah. But I’m thinking he might be the only one.”

  “Who can tell with these ‘modified’ Cylons?” Tigh shook his head. “I think once a toaster, always a toaster.”

  Adama still hoped he was wrong.

  “The station hospital is just ahead,” the doctor called over his shoulder. “The prisoners, to my understanding, are right through here.”

  “They have been well taken care of,” Gamma added.

  “We have sufficient programming to provide for most basic human needs.”

  Adama and Tigh stepped into a large and mostly empty room. Only one corner of the space, hidden by curtains, seemed to hold any activity. The humans and companions walked across the cavernous space, their feet echoing in the emptiness.

  Epsilon stepped forward and pulled aside the curtains. “Here are your pilots.”

  The prisoners lay in two hospital beds, side by side. Their eyes were closed, their arms connected by wires to a number of machines, all of which beeped or hummed softly. The pilots were perfectly still, barely breathing.

  “I’m afraid we didn’t know what to do with them,” the doctor said. “This seemed to be the best solution.”

  “We have instructions to treat the severely wounded thus,” Gamma continued, “to wait for the next supply ship. When the station was fully functional, we would receive supply ships on a regular basis. They would have the medical supplies and expertise to help the severely traumatized recover.”

  “What have you done to them?” Adama asked. They hardly seemed to be alive.

  “They have been put into a medically induced coma,” Gamma replied.

  “They were unwelcome outsiders,” Epsilon added. “They could not fit into our society. In this case, they became the trauma.”

  Tigh pointed at one pilot’s bandaged arm. “What happened here?”

  “He lost a hand in the fighting,” Gamma replied. “We did the best we could to bandage it and stop the bleeding.

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t very close to the action,” the doctor admitted. “I didn’t even realize the extent of their injuries.”

  Again, Adama thought, Or you didn’t really want to know.

  “What has happened to their Vipers?” Adama asked.

  Beta spoke up. “There is much we lack. We have begun to strip them down for parts.”

  Adama wondered, if they could find something useful in the pilots, if they might take them apart as well. But no, these “companions” had done what was necessary for their survival. Were they able to make rational decisions? Or was this all part of their programming?

  Adama looked at the assembled men and machines. “We will arrange for the disposition of these men. We have the facilities on Galactica to help them heal—and to keep them under lock and key until we find out just what they know.” He turned to Saul. “Captain Tigh. Find out from our hosts here if we can transport them in their current condition. I’m going to talk to the admiral and see who else we can get down here to help.”

  “Would you like to use our comm center?” Jon asked.

  Adama shook his head. “I’ll just make a quick call from my ship. Galactica is already monitoring the shuttle’s frequency. They’ll be waiting for my call.” He looked back at the door they had come through. “Is there an easy way to get from here to the landing field?”

  Vin waved at the far side of the curtains. “Actually, if you go farther this way, you’ll come right out on the far side of the field. I’ll be glad to show you.”

  All the corridors in this place made it seem a bit like a maze. It was obviously designed for a much larger staff. The more Adama saw of this facility, the more he realized this might have been a worthwhile project—except it was far too little and far too late. The Cylon problem had erupted before they could even get this venture properly under way. But in studying man/machine interaction, the work they had done on Research Station Omega could still prove valuable.

  “Very good, Captain. Wait for me here.”

  Tigh gave him a quick salute. He didn’t look particularly happy to be left behind.

  Adama let Vin lead the way. They left the hospital room and walked down a short hall to an even larger space—the old Viper hangar bay. Again, most of the space was empty, except for a busy area along one wall, where a trio of Cylons was carefully disassembling a pair of ancient Mark Ones. They appeared to be placing every different piece into its own separate container, each of which in turn was neatly labeled and stacked against one wall. They were saving everything for future use, just as the doctor had said.

  Adama felt the slightest bit guilty leaving Tigh behind to keep the locals busy. But it would seem too odd for both of them to retreat to the shuttle. And he needed to discuss with the admiral what they were going to do, preferably in private.

  Vin opened a door at the far side of the hangar, then stepped aside. “Just through here. I’ll wait until you’re done.”

  “Thank you.” He appreciated that he wouldn’t have to close the shuttle door in the young man’s face.

  He stepped out onto the field and saw that the shuttle was gone. Adama almost turned around to confront Vin about the disappearance. The two Vipers were where they had left them, however. If the “companions” were going to take any of their ships, wouldn’t they take all of them? There must be another explanation. He walked quickly over to the nearer of the two Vipers. He reached inside and powered up the wireless.

  “Adama to Galactica.”

  “Galactica here.”

  “You don’t happen to know the whereabouts of our shuttle?”

  “Athena took it out, Colonel. She said she had your permission.”

  “Oh.” Adama felt a sudden surge of relief. Apparently, his pilots were taking the quick way to track down whatever Laea wanted to show them. “Well, then I guess she does have permission. Put me through to the admiral.”

  A moment passed before he heard the admiral’s voice.

  “Sing here.”

  “Admiral. I’m away from the others. I can talk freely.”

  “What’s your assessment of the situation?”

  Adama decided to be blunt. “I think we got here just before this whole place fell apart. It’s already crumbling around the edges. And while the Cylons on this station do not seem to be combatants, they have been showing some worrisome tendencies. They’ve got two prisoners here from the scavenger ship that they’ve put into comas. I want to get these men on Galactica as soon as possible to see if they can tell us anything.”

  “We’ll send down a med team,” Sing agreed. “Other recommendations?”

  “Something has to be done here with the human staff. The old man at least looks like he could use medical attention. I’m not sure about the youngsters.”

  And what would happen if they brought the humans back? He didn’t think anyone would want to leave the facility under the control of Cylons—modified or not.

  Perhaps they could maintain the facility here until the original researchers on Picon could send replacements.

  It was a controlled situation, one laboratory setting on one world very far away from the Colonies.


  But he imagined Colonial citizens would be outraged if they knew anything about it. Supporting a site with Cylons? Too many people had lost too much in the war. The researchers here would be branded as traitors. No one could understand a place where man and machine could live in peace.

  If that was, indeed, the true nature of this place.

  “Colonel?” Sing prompted.

  “Sorry, sir. I was thinking what we might do in the long term with this place. Even though they seem to be cooperative, I don’t know if we can trust these Cylons’ continuing motives. We may need to shut the whole thing down. I’m not sure the Cylons would agree. We’d probably need at least a major force from the Galactica to get them to comply. It might get complicated.”

  “Understood, Sing replied. “I’ll talk to the fleet. I’m guessing this facility is still under Picon jurisdiction. It will be up to them to decide.” The admiral paused, then added, “But that means talking to Colonial governments. That never goes quickly. I imagine it will take a few days to come to a decision. Are you comfortable with staying at the facility?”

  “I think that’s for the best. I believe I’ve gained their trust. We’ll stay here, tell them we’ve contacted their home government. See if they might want to send any messages of their own back to Picon. After the med team retrieves the prisoners, I think it’s best if just the four of us stay as our official representatives. The station seems in a fragile balance. The fewer new elements introduced into their lives at this point, the better.

  “I’ll know more about the situation here after I get a report from Athena and Skeeter. They’re out taking a look around.”

  “I understand they checked in with Galactica when they first went out,” Sing replied. “We haven’t heard back from them yet. We’ve been getting periodic interference with our signals up here, both wireless and dradis. I wanted to ask you about that. Is there anything down there you think can be causing this interference?”

  “Nothing I’ve seen, or they’ve told me about. Could there be some other cause?” Adama knew that storms and large magnetic fields had disrupted signals in the past.