Islands in the Sky

  troubles had forced the memory of Zac's death to the back of his mind.

  Continuing troubles had a way of doing that. He wondered, too, if the

  improvement he perceived in Apollo was at all attributable to the charms

  of that lovely newswoman, Serina, or the way she had directed his

  attention to the troubled boy, Boxey.

  Athena sprang into the room as if she'd been crouching by the

  doorway, awaiting Apollo's exit. She had a copy of the three pilots'

  orders clutched in her fist.

  "Father," she said, "I can't believe you're doing this. Why

  couldn't you have listened to the others, gone to Dune instead of this

  filthy, dangerous place?"

  For a moment Adama felt terribly confused. It was difficult to

  shift his concentration from the satisfaction over his son's confidence

  to this new disturbance from his other child.

  "What is it, Athena?"

  "You're taking such an awful chance with their lives."

  "Of course. They know that. They could back out without blame, you

  know that."

  "Ah, damn, Starbuck's too much of a fool to back out of a dangerous

  mission."

  Adama was beginning to understand the source of her rage.

  "It's Starbuck you're worrying about, is it?"

  Her shoulders sagged suddenly, as all the rage seemed to go out of

  her in a rush.

  "It's not just that, Father. I'm worried about Apollo, too---you

  know that. And Boomer. It's just that----I don't know what it is."

  "You love Starbuck and you're naturally..."

  "I hate that..."

  Another surprise. Adama took Athena in his arms and asked her what

  was wrong. Holding back her tears, she told him about the discovery of

  Starbuck and Cassiopeia making love in the launching tubes.

  "So you have to fight for your young man," Adama said. "That's not

  so hard. You're a fighter. I'm proud of your courage and your..."

  "Oh, shut up, Father. That's not what I want to hear. I'm just, I

  don't know, very disturbed, and I don't know what to think. I used to

  think I could cure myself of Starbuck, get a pill out of Life Station or

  something and forget about him. But, I don't know, it's this war and the

  destruction of the Coloines and this desperate voyage to a place where we

  don't know what we'll find. Everything's in a different perspective now.

  Hopeless. Everything's been hopeless since---if they survive this, if

  any of us survive, what next? Will we find this Earth you claim isn't

  myth?"

  "Perhaps not."

  "I was thinking that. We could grow old waiting. I mean we may

  never have the chance, the chance to...to..."

  "To form permanent relationships, have children and a home?"

  "Yes."

  "You know, I think it's a bit early for you to be worrying about

  your prime of life. I, on the other hand, should give a great deal of

  thought to this voyage. When we reassemble the fleet and my resignation

  as president of the council takes effect finally, then I..."

  "Get that idea right out of your head. You're not going to resign.

  You have to lead them. You're all that's left."

  "We're rehashing an old argument, which is not to the point right

  now."

  Athena hugged her father. She had not done that so spontaneously in

  some time, and he was happy to feel the tension between them alleviate.

  "Thanks for consoling me," she said.

  "Just returning the favor. Remember when you had to console your

  old Father."

  "I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn."

  "You're allowed it."

  After Athena had left, Adama sat alone for a long time, thinking

  about the conversations with Apollo and Athena, satisfied that---whatever

  their arguments with him---at least they were on his side.

  *****

  As Starbuck waited for launch signal, his ship vibrated under him,

  as eager to get into action as he was. In his mind he went over Tigh's

  final briefing. All they had been able to discern through the scanners

  was that there were at least three types of mines in the field. There

  was the normal explosive type, which could blast to smithereens any ship

  that came into contact with it, plus any other craft within a micron's

  radius. A second kind seemed more instrumsent than weapon. It had

  electronic equipment all over its surface, and nobody aboard the

  Galactica had ever seen any mine like it, if indeed it was a mine. The

  third type created the most trouble. Rather than exploding, it sent off

  flashes of light whose intensity was so concentrated they would blind

  anyone unlucky enough to set it off. Because of that danger, the three

  pilots had to fly the mission with their cockpits darkened and treated

  with a chemical to ward off the ray. Fine, Starbuck thought, if that had

  been the only kind of mine. But the chemical protection that opaque the

  cockpit made it necessary for them to fly blind against all the mines,

  relying on their scanners to locate targets. In combat Starbuck liked

  this kind of seat-of-the-pants flying, but not in a suicidal

  mine-detecting mission.

  Tigh's voice came over the communicator, asking his pilots if they

  were ready.

  "Ready," Boomer's sturdy voice said.

  "I'm ready," came the cool sound of Apollo. "What about you,

  Starbuck?"

  "I'm not ready. But let's get it over with anyway."

  A short, tense pause,then the launch light came on and the three

  ships catapulted into space. Forming a neat triangular formation, they

  headed for the minefield. In the short interval lof time it took to

  reach the field, Starbuck said a silent prayer to the goddess Luck,

  wishing her continued good health and a return of the favor.

  "I'm going in for preliminary scouting," Apollo said.

  "Good luck," said Boomer and Starbuck simultaneously.

  "Don't jinx me with good wishes," Apollo said, laughter in his

  voice. "All right, I'm going to make a sweep by the nearest

  thingama---oh my God!"

  "Apollo!" Starbuck yelled. "What's wrong?"

  There was an agonizing wait for an answer.

  "I found out what the mysterious mines were. They're not mines at

  all, not really. They're electronic jammers. Soon as I got near that

  one, everything in this bird started going haywire, including the

  controls. I was able to wrest back command of the controls and jerk the

  Viper out of its range, otherwise, I think I'd've been sucked in and

  then, I don't know, probably then it explodes. Come in carefully, you

  guys."

  Starbuck flew in slowly, keeping most of his attention on the

  scanner, so he cold avoid the jamming mines. Boomer came in directly

  behind him.

  "Hey, Boomer," Starbuck said, "don't slipstream me."

  "Shows how much you know. There is no slipstream capability in

  spacecraft, which..."

  "I know, I know. We got to stop you memorizing those manuals in

  your bunk. I
was just using a figure of speech and you gave me Academy

  lectures. I mean, get out on your own."

  "I'm just trying to cash in on your luck, Bucko."

  "My luck has decidedly changed lately."

  On the scanner one of the light mines was activated near the form of

  Apollo's starfighter.

  "You all right, Apollo?" Starbuck said.

  "I'm fine. They were right about darkening the cockpit, though.

  I'd be blind now. Though I feel like I'm blind as it is. I can't see

  much. My scanner's doing an irregular skip. And it's getting hot, very

  hot. I'm veering off. Anybody make out anything else on their scanner

  about this field?"

  "Negative," Starbuck said. "My scanner's burning out."

  "Mine's history," Boomer said.

  "I was afraid of that. The jamming's playing havoc with our

  instruments. We shoulda stayed in bed."

  "A little late for that, I'd say," Starbuck said. "What do we do?"

  "Only one thing I can think of, fellas, and it's not exactly the

  best Academy procedure. Seems to me we've gone by the book as long as

  it's feasible. Our only chance is to haul off, hold positions and blast

  away."

  "You mean run a path right thorugh the minefield?" Starbuck said.

  "With our scanners out of whack and our cockpits dark?"

  "Does it sound difficult to you, Starbuck?"

  "Oh, no. Duck soup. The nuts. Easy as pie."

  "What if we miss a mine?" Boomer said.

  "One of us'll be the first to know it. You with me?"

  "I'm with you,' Boomer said.

  "I'm with you, too," Starbuck ssaid.

  "Let's fly!" Apollo said.

  *****

  On the bridge of the Galactica, Adama and Tigh listened to the

  communications among the three ships avidly. When Apollo proposed

  running a path through the minefield, Tigh looked panicked.

  "Shall I tell them to abort the mission, sir?" he asked Adama.

  "We can't. Apollo has full authority."

  "But we've got to stop him. This is too reckless a..."

  "Colonel, there's no way we can stoop him. Not only is it essential

  that we get our ships through the minefield, Apollo has a great deal to

  prove."

  "What does he prove by killing himself?"

  Adamas shrugged, resigning from the argument. The truth was two

  painful to admit. Apollo might just like to kill himself in the middle

  of a bold heroic exploit; it would at least prove to others that he was

  not, after all, the vassal to his father's tyrant-king, doing Adama's

  bidding in a vast plot to deceive everybody.

  Everybody watched the massive screen at the top of the console

  silently as the three sleek, delta-winged ships angled through the

  minefield, which was now brightly lit by two activated light-mines. The

  three pilots were firing everything they had, and with stunning accuracy.

  Mine after mine exploded and disappeared. Suddenly, when it became clear

  that Apollo's foolhardy plan was going to work, a cheer went up among the

  bridge crew.

  "I don't know what to say, Commander," Tigh said. "They're clearing

  the path!"

  "Now that's precision flying," Athena said from her post, smiling at

  her father. It was one of his phrases, and she meant it affectionately.

  Starbuck's voice came over the communicator:

  "I can't see a blessed thing. Are we hitting anything?"

  "Be hanged if I know," Apollo said. "But it's cooling off. I do

  believe we made it."

  "Yaaaaaaahooooooo!" screamed Boomer.

  Then all their voices chattered together, and the exuberance of

  their three young heroes buoyed up the spirits of everyone on the

  Galactica.

  *****

  Since the fleet of human survivors had disappeared, activity aboard

  the Cylon base ships had declined, leaving Imperious Leader more time for

  speculation about the minor failures within his otherwise enormously

  successful plan. He knew there could not be many human ships left, yet

  where were they? If the Cylon culture had had any inclination toward

  proverbs, they might have felt they were looking for a needle in a

  haystack---although haystacks were nonexistent on Cylon worlds, where

  grotesque livestock were fed blocks of nutritive substances through an

  osmotic process, and where needles had no point, literally and

  figuratively.

  Had the humans worked up some kind of force-field camouflage?

  Imperious Leader's spy network had discovered clues that they had such a

  capability, and he had ordered his experts to develop anti-camouflage

  devices. He had not had a transmission from them since.

  The leader was not so much disturbed by the technology causing the

  humans' disappearance as by the fact that they continued to keep out of

  sight. Baltar had recently told him that a human was never so confident

  as when he had his back to the wall. A pompous outcry of arrogance, of

  course, no more than could be expected from the smug human traitor, but

  still a troublesome concept. The image, especially, bothered the leader.

  A Cylon arranged matters so that his back was never against a wall. He

  either plunged forward to his death or emerged victorious. There was

  little middle ground. But humans were always finding middle grounds.

  Curious.

  A message came along the network from an executive officer. Some

  explosions had been registered near Carillon's Lot. Evidently some mines

  set in the protective field around the planet had been set off or had

  malfunctioned. On occasion that minefield caught and eliminated space

  pirates who had heard rumors about Carillon's Lot. Whether the humans

  had anything to do with the present series of explosions was debatable.

  However, the Leader ordered intense surveillance, because of the

  importance of the Tylium mining complex there. In all the years of the

  war the humans had not discovered that Carillon's Lot was a prime source

  of fuel supply for their enemy. Nevertheless, a sneak trip to Carillon's

  Lot might be exactly what the devious Adama might be attempting now.

  This war with the humans must end once and for all, the Leader

  thought. It had gone on too long, used up too much of Cylon resources.

  He wished to get back to the proper business of his leadership---to seek

  out the cracks and flaws in the unity and organization of his own race,

  to make the concepts of peace and order the synonyms they should be.

  Even now, in some Cylon worlds, the human practice of monogamy had been

  communicated to certain sectors of the population, and they were busy

  practicing it. Monogamy went against the basic concepts of the network

  of Cylon civilization, where it was vital that every Cylon attempt and

  complete as many forms or degrees of contact as possible. Monogamy

  contained in its disagreeable structure too many forms and degrees of

  limited contact, a state Imperious Leader could not abide, and he vowed

  to severely punish those Cylons practicing it when he could afford to

  devote
attention to domestic matters again.

  He ordered his executive officers to keep him well-informed with any

  clue that might suggest the invisible fleet's whereabouts. There would

  be no more middle grounds---not with the surviving humans.

  *****

  After preliminary scanning by a scouting patrol of Red Squadron

  Vipers, the livery ships were cleared to land. It was considered

  essential to provide the animals with some grazing and eating room. The

  livery ship officers had reported an increased listlessness in their

  animals, one which seemed to be caused by somethimg ore than just the

  limited rations available to feed them.

  The farming ships landed soon after, and took immediate advantage of

  Carillon's Lot's fertile soil, whose texture and mineral content

  indicated a fine medium for the planting of accelerated-growth

  foodstuffs. At the same time, the agro-workers collected as much grazing

  material from the Carillon's Lot surface as they could and transplanted

  it to the meadows inside the livery ships.

  While Carillon's Lot was proving exceptionally fruitful for

  livestock and farming, it didn't impress some of its human visitors.

  Especially Boomer and Starbuck, who had been dispatched to the dark side

  of the planet to investigate mining possibilities.

  "I'll be sure to come here on my next furlong," Boomer commented.

  "I just adore monotonous landscapes."

  "Yes, it's lovely," Starbuck said. "Can't imagine why it isn't

  overpopulated."

  A pilot on a Viper flyby informed them that his scanners read life

  forms in an area a short distance from where Boomer and Starbuck were

  driving in their landram. Boomer broadcast the specified time check to

  the main expeditionary force, and announced they would investigate the

  life-form report. Starbuck accelerated the landarm and headed for the

  area its pilot had indicated.

  "If this place is so bloomin' rich in resources, how come it was

  abandoned in the first place?"

  Starbuck shrugged.

  "Legend has it the mining and colonization groups both got spooked

  and pulled out. By who, or what, no one knows. Probably that's just a

  story, though. Looks to me like the planet was just too drab. In those

  days sources of supply were plentiful, plus it's off the normal space

  lanes, to I suppose Carillon's Lot was just written off as a bad

  investment."

  "Then why's the old man think it's such a good investment now?"

  "It's the only investment, Boomer, that's what he'd tell you."

  "Yeah, he does have a talent for finality, the commander does."

  "Yes---hey, will you look at that? That glow over the hill? Any

  idea what it is?"