Islands in the Sky

  Athena says she imagines paradise as her very own battlestar to command.

  Tigh's is one where no paper exists. Our paradises tend to be

  solipsistic dreams in which there is either more of everything we think

  we love and need, or we are awarded gifts of all that's usually denied

  us. Seems to me the point is that, in all our paradises, we don't pay

  heed to the slaves who are the rest of the population in our imaginary

  lands. A paradise, which should suggest expansion of human potential, is

  usually a reduction, generally to the state of inertia. People lounge in

  paradise a lot more than they do in life, or even want to do. The

  Carillon's Lot paradise was in reality a trap, as false as the peace

  offer of the Cylons or the pleasant words of Count Baltar. We humans

  have an unfortunate tendency to welcome traps if we can find some way to

  call them paradises. Be content, the Ubbo-Sathla queen Nor said. And we

  can be content if we don't have ot think of the slaves or the inertia, so

  long as there are plenty of toy airplanes and everything is blue.

  *****

  CHAPTER EIGHT: PROPOSAL

  Adama had visited Tylium mines before, but the Ubbo-Sathla one

  resembled no other mining operation he'd ever seen, especially when one

  viewed it form the mammoth underground cavern and contemplated the

  seemingly infinite depths. Its network of cells was an eerie phenomenon

  to anyone familiar with only deep-sunk tunnels and shafts. Adama felt

  uneasy. The workers, live beings after all, moved like machines. The

  Ubbo-Sathla guards stood too near them as if overseeing every action. It

  all had the smell of slave labor about it, and he didn't like it.

  During the tour, Nor's soft but raspy voice had supplied the kind of

  statistics that generally awed visiting committees. She finished off by

  describing her operation as the most efficient Tylium mine anywhere.

  "It's proof of communal order," Sire Zalto said obsequiously.

  "It certainly is," supplied his doll.

  "I thank you,"Nor replied. "Now allow me to show you some of the

  finer points of Ubbo-Sathla existence.

  She led them to the banquet room, where the enormous feast had been

  replenished. The buriticians crowded the table like men starved for some

  time---which, of course, they were. Although Adama had also suffered the

  rigors of privation, he was not quite so eager to accept Ubbo-Sathla

  hospitality, and he held back from the banquet. The vigorous music being

  played on a host of stringed instruments agitated his nerves.

  "Yum, yum, sire," said the doll, plastic eyes flashing green.

  "You said it Friend," Zalto said, slivers of food dripping from the

  corners of his mouth. "This is just too much to expect."

  "We have plenty," Nor said. "We wish to aid you. As many of your

  people who desire it are invited to be our guests."

  Zalto, triumphant, whirled on Adama.

  "And to think that you, Commander, wanted to deny our people such a

  kind and generous invitation!"

  "Shame, shame, shame," added Zalto's doll.

  Adama felt uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of man and doll.

  For the moment all the cards were in Zalto's hand, and Adama could only

  reply, "I suggested only a small rotation and not a mass descent upon

  this planet."

  "I thought you said time was our greatest consideration," Zalto

  countered, talking in between sips of a purplish liquid. "The more

  people we bring down here at once, the sooner we can be on our way, get

  back to the others. Y'know, you'd be wise to consider, once all the

  ships are refueled and converted to hyperspace, bringing them all here to

  enjoy the hospitality of this planet. In fact, with a little work, we

  could even settle down here."

  "Hey," the doll spoke up, "that's the best idea you've had in a long

  time, Zalto."

  "Yes," said Zalto. "I must consider it."

  Zalto's proposal, clearly a political one, drew a murmured approval

  from the other members of the council on the tour, even from Gant, who

  was usually not quick to agree to anything. Adama decided not to reply

  to the challenge in Zalto's voice. It was never wise to argue with a

  buritician well on his way to inebriation. And, back on the sober decks

  of the Galactica, the others would see that his proposal was nonsensical.

  Adama turned to Nor and said, "May I ask how our request for Tylium

  is being received?"

  "We have already prepared and processed the first shipment for you,

  have we not?" Nor said, her voice sounding way too political for Adama's

  comfort. Trying to interpret a possibly calulcated move of an alien

  seemed too much to ask of himself after just enduring Zalto's insidious

  strategies.

  "Yes, we boarded the first load of liquefied Tylium," he said.

  "However, I understand there's to be a delay in obtaining more."

  The lower part of the queen's beautiful face twisted into a pout.

  "Our processing procedures are antiquted," she said. "It takes time

  to process the ore, and we were not prepared for such a large order. You

  did come upon us as something of a surprise, after all. Generally, we

  are not called upon to process the ore into liquid state for an entire

  space fleet."

  "Oh? What purpose do you usually process it for? Or should ask ask

  whom you process it for."

  "Our records are not for the perusal of our clients, Commander. We

  are industrious, but we are also small, and we have every reason to fear

  any intruder, especially those who blast their way thorugh our protective

  layers. However, we appreciate the scope of your order, and are also

  appreciative of the profits for us in a transaction of this nature. But

  we must take time and you must have patience."

  Nor's smile, intended to be ingratiating, was so false it gave Adama

  a pain in the pit of his stomach.

  "Hey, let's not press our luck, Commander," Zalto said, his fingers

  working frantically at what seemed to be a piece of bluish meat. "Don't

  be rude in the face of these people's hospitality."

  "Please enjoy yourselves," Nor said. "Be our guests. Be well fed,

  entertained. Be content."

  The queen strolled backward toward the arched entranceway, giving

  the appearance more of a loyal slvae than a regent. Adama stopped her

  movement by saying:

  "You aren't joining us?"

  She glanced back at the food table without much interest. A strange

  smile crossed her face.

  "No, I'm afraid not."

  With a graceful bow, she swept out of the room.

  "Well," said Zalto, edging toward the commander while peeling a

  lumpy lavender fruit, "I don't think there can be any doubt as to our

  decision. It'll take time to obtain the Tylium, so we'll give every

  person an opportunity to share in our bounty down here on Carillon's

  Lot."

  "Zalto, be..."

  "Be what, Adama?"

  All the members of the council were looking at Adama wi
th intense

  interest.

  "Never mind."

  Adama sensed their unanimity of opinion. They all nodded their

  agreement with Zalto while stuffing their mouths with all manner of

  foodstuffs. A nauseous feeling growing in his stomach, Adama couldn't

  force himself to go near the banquet, and he sat instead in a plushy

  upholstered chair by the doorway. They were his fellow humans, but, at

  least for a moment, they looked spookier to him than any of the

  Ubbo-Salaths did.

  *****

  Joining his queen in the corridor outside the banquet rooms, Bar-Lo

  fell in step with her as she set a brisk pace down the passageway to the

  concealed pod elevator. Before descending to the throne-room level, she

  surveyed the tunnel in front of the elevator, clearly making sure there

  were no spying humans. Beckoning to Bar-Lo to accompany her, she entered

  the elevator and went down to the throne room. As the queen walked out

  of the elevator in front of her, Bar-Lo felt a surge of desire for her.

  Nor approached the throne but, instead of sitting on it, dropped to

  a mast graceful and regal curtsey in front of it. Bar-Lo became aware of

  the tall Cylon centurion sitting on the throne.

  "By your command," Nor said. It annoyed Bar-Lo to watch his beloved

  queen act so subserviently to a Cylon. Bar-Lo hated these helmeted

  arrogant creatures even more than humans and resented their hold over the

  Ubbo-Salath. Worse, he was afraid of them.

  "Many of the humans are here now, but their commander has allowed a

  few of his warriors to land. The rest stand alert on the battlestar."

  "That will change as they grow secure in your hospitality."

  "Of course, centurion," Nor said. "We live to serve you."

  "And serve us you will. Our Leader intends to eradicate every human

  left in this sector of space. Except those useful to your people."

  "As you wish."

  "We will attack and ambush the Galactica when we are sure human

  forces are lulled. Our leader appreciates your cooperation and pledges

  to continue his protection of the Ubbo-Sathla as part of our glorious

  Alliance."

  "We are pleased, centurion."

  Nor bowed and nudged Bar-Lo to bow with her. Even though the act

  disgusted him, Barl-Lo obeyed his queen's bidding.

  *****

  When Greenbean reported in tht the Galactica's agricultural project

  on Carillon's Lot was now being harvested, Apollo realized that he had

  lost all sense of time. No wonder his father had seemed testy with him

  when he had shuttled up to the Galactica to provide reports on all the

  activities of the humans on Carillon's Lot, including the rest and

  recuperation in the chancery and food rooms. His father had, Tigh told

  Apollo, been particularly disturbed by his own visit to the Ubbo-Sathla

  mine and the recreation area. Adama had not seemed interested in the

  statistics, nor in Apollo's overall conclusion that their mission was not

  only proceeding ahead of schedule, it was overwhelmingly successful.

  When Adama said he felt disturbed by something he could not put his

  finger on, Apollo told him that he had felt the same way at first, but

  the obviously happiness of their people during their visits to the

  surface had quelled his apprehensions. Adama said that was exactly what

  was wrong, exactly what he couldn't put his finger on. The discussion

  with his father had left Apollo feeling even more disoriented.

  Tonight he would forget all that, he decided. Tonight he would

  snatch pieces of the fun that everybody else had been enjoying for the

  better part of two Carillon's Lot days. Serina had agreed to accompany

  him to the chancery, and who knew to what else, and he was going to enjoy

  himself for a change. Only the lure of the lovely Caprican newswoman

  could have coaxed him into his dress blues for any occasion, and he felt

  quite joyful as they entered the chancery. Serina, holding onto his arm,

  had changed to a long-skirted flowing, lavender dress, and she looked

  gorgeous, so much so that even the more fanatical of the gambers glanced

  up from their games to take a look at her. Those people who were not

  engaged in the gambling activities could not get their fill of the

  substances on the food tables. The gambling itself was more raucous and

  joyous than any betting or playing activities Apollo had ever seen

  before. He got the impression that everyone was winning. Perhaps

  Starbuck's luck was rubbing off on everybody.

  "It's a circus," Serina said, "a wonderland."

  "It sure is," Apollo said, "but at least it's giving a lot of people

  the kind of relief break they needed so desperately."

  "I'm glad that you've found time to take a break for yourself. I've

  never seen anybody push himself as much as you have."

  "All in the line of duty, ma'am."

  "I'm happy to see you cheerful, and I'm so glad to see them all

  happy. That woman there at the table---"

  She pointed to a middle-aged matronly woman who was so involved in

  dice play that her blond wig was on the verge of falling off her head.

  "What about her?"

  "I watched her husband die in her arms only a few days ago. Don't

  look at me so strangely. I'll try to have fun. It's not easy, making

  the transfer. I'm exhausted. So much has happened. I think it's all

  catching up with me."

  "I could take you to the guest quarters the Ubbo-Salthla have

  assigned us."

  Was the young captain finally making his move, Serina wondered. She

  didn't know whether she hoped so or not. Not long ago she had believed

  that she could not accept an emotional relationship with a man, at least

  not until the human suffering had stopped. She looked around her.

  Nobody seemed to be suffering. She wasn't sure what was holding her

  back. Some little detail out of place, som color that was wrong in the

  room, soothing. She told herself to relax, she wasn't even officially a

  newswoman anymore and did not have to act like one.

  "Let's stay here for a while," she said to Apollo, who nodded

  without any apparent disappointment. "I'm going to have fun, too. I

  want to sit right here at one of the tables."

  Apollo smiled.

  "Why don't we win a fortune?"

  "Why don't we, my captain?"

  They took a seat at a roulette table and bought some chips from the

  green-skinned scaly humanoid who was the croupier.

  *****

  In the far corner of the chancery, near an entertainment lounge,

  Starbuck was riding a winning streak that was like nothing he had

  experienced since the day his gambling dad had flipped his first pack of

  cards into his eager, waiting fingers. A tall pile of golden cubits

  stood in front of him as he tossed another winning hand back onto the

  center of the table. Touching the cubit pile, he hollered ecstatically,

  "Let 'em ride!"

  He won another pot and leaned back in his chair. The chatter of the

  throng watching his strea
k nearly drowned out the raucous m usic coming

  from the lounge. He glanced up at the gallery and directly into the

  staring eyes of Athena, who stood by the empty chair next to him.

  "This seat taken?" she asked.

  "Uhhhhh, well..." He said, squirming in his own chair. Cassiopeia

  had been sitting beside him until just a few moments ago and had abruptly

  gone off, saying she'd just gotten a good idea. Since he had no idea

  what constituted a good idea for the Gemonese socialator, he had no idea

  when, or even whether, she would be returning.

  Athena slid into the chair and leaned toward him, saying, "I think I

  owe you an apology."

  "You do?"

  "I haven't had the nerve to tell you until now. You know how I've

  always told you it was wrong for a commander's daughter to get involved

  with a combat warrior."

  "I vaguely recall you saying that."

  "Come on, this paradise is the perfect opportunity for us all to be

  honest with each other. Let loose even the psychological inhibitions. I

  hurt you, admit it."

  Starbuck, feeling it would be better to go along with her until he

  could figure out what she was getting at, nodded and tried to work some

  pain into his face. Athena went on eagerly.

  "Didn't you say that I was the only woman you really cared about?"

  So that was it! Jealousy! She knew about Cassiopeia then. But

  what exactly did she know?

  Athena's look hardened as she said, "Well, did you say that?"

  "Oh. Oh, sure. It's just that, with all the misery and everything,

  I've shut all those feelings out. To avoid the pain, you see."

  Her eyes narrowed.

  "I don't believe you. Look, I'll forget your little peccadillo with

  the socialator."

  Starbuck's eyes widened in shock.

  "It was you. You turned on the bloody steam! I should..."

  "Should what? Didn't you deserve it?"

  "No, of course I didn't deserve it."

  "Oh, you can hop into a launching tube with any socialator that

  comes along."

  "That's pretty bigoted. You know better. A socialator's not a

  common..."

  "I don't care if she's an uncommon anything. All right, I'm not

  the----not the warmest person around, especially when there's work to be

  done. For that matter, I practically forced you into that socialator's

  arms."

  "She had interesting arms."

  "Starbuck!"

  He cursed himself for letting that remark slip. He didn't really

  want to hurt Athena, but that socialator comment had been unthinking and

  a bit callous. He was not used to callousness from Athena.

  "All right, I'm sorry, but we're not going to work this out with a