Down below he witnessed the pleasant cloud formations in the planetary atmosphere. They reminded him of the surreal experience of the Ur cloud. As the Cylons and Chitain destroyed each other, a wave of energy had been released that tore an opening in space-time. That fortuitous cataclysm had allowed humanity to return to the universe of stars and galaxies.
Once he was safely aboard the Galactica again, Apollo took time for a brief meditation. His thoughts could have been encapsulated in this prayer:
"Let us resist the enemy without becoming like him. Let us find a new source of tylium and other supplies. Let us enjoy the good fortune of finally escaping the Cylons. And if it's not asking too much, the next time I take my Viper into a cloud, let it be composed of water vapor in the atmosphere of a livable planet."
Sometimes prayers were answered.
The thin strands of wispy cloud racing by the Viper were all about life as opposed to the blank negation of the Ur cloud. Apollo liked to be in a thick soup of life. The current reports of the scientists were tantalizing, to say the least.
Salik reported evidence of a humanoid life form that was in a primitive stage. In other words, they didn't have high-tech. It was too soon to estimate population size or draw any conclusions on how widely distributed the humanoids were over the planet.
The Colonials could be here for some considerable time, given the disastrous condition of the fleet and all the work that needed doing. Apollo hoped they could keep culture clash to a minimum.
But at this very moment, he didn't want to think about that. For a few centari he didn't want to think about the mission, even though he had a specific destination he'd kept from the other Viper pilots.
For a few blessed moments he wanted nothing but to pretend that he was a tourist. When he was in resonance with his inner light he had no desire to conquer new worlds. He only wanted to see them.
So Apollo descended from the stratosphere into the lower clouds. They formed an ethereal landscape with snowy cliffs rising out of a vast continent that wasn't there. The red sun's light gave them a burnished quality. For one mad micron he felt that he could step out of his Viper and walk on them.
He didn't have to. The promise of real continents lay below. He would go down and gaze upon solid ground, mindful that on alien worlds appearances could be as misleading as any cloudscape.
Breaking through the lower cloud banks, the first thing he noticed was a riot of color. Then his warrior training zeroed in on what seemed to be flashes off a metal surface—but closer scrutiny revealed smooth boulders reflecting the sunlight.
Descending lower, he had a much better view of the forest. A river also reflected sunlight. The sight of fresh water was as refreshing as if he'd just drunk from a bubbling fountain. There were trees and grasses. There were flying animals that were the first cousins of birds and flowering plants. The river rolled on underneath him, a blue ribbon leading into a deep ravine.
He did not linger over the valley but leveled off and flew on, traversing a vast plain toward a purple mountain range. The experts had told him the atmosphere was rich in oxygen and that the air was safe to breathe. But they could not describe the morning fresh scent that Apollo let into his cockpit as soon as he was low enough to depressurize and allow the planet's air to ventilate his craft.
There was always the risk of disease-bearing microorganisms but nothing out of the ordinary showed up in the initial tests. They would have to take the risk as they so often did. Considering the different environments the Colonials had survived in up to this point, the risk was probably greater for the new worlds they entered than for themselves.
Gar'Tokk had taught Apollo to be philosophical about such matters. The Noman had also instructed him in ways to respect new worlds as much as could be reconciled with the exigencies of survival.
After what the Colonials did to the Nomen, Apollo did well to listen.
A sudden gust of fierce wind made the Viper dance. It helped remind him that he wasn't merely sightseeing. He used his comlink and communicated with Athena.
"I'm headed for the coordinates where you said there is evidence of the greatest concentration of humanoid habitation. I'm counting on your assessment that I won't be running into a ground-to-air missile!"
She chuckled. "If they shoot anything at you, it won't be more than a spear or an arrow."
He smiled inside his helm. "That might not be as trivial as you think. I've seen some pretty sturdy trees down here."
"Have you seen any sturdy animals?"
"Feathered flyers that look like birds, a flock of 'em. They were pretty large."
"Were they pretty, too?" Athena asked.
"Yeah. Beautiful!"
"Koren wants to know if you run into any monsters."
"Tell my boy that when we encounter monsters they usually come in our size, fly spaceships and shoot at us. I'd trade them all in for some gentle giants that just want to eat us!"
"I know what you mean," his sister agreed. "Analysis suggests this planet is rich in minerals and energy, not to mention natural foods."
Apollo bit his lower lip. "Sounds like we're going to be doing the eating."
The Viper flew on, a lonely piece of advanced technology speeding across the surface of a pristine, sleeping planet. Against the face of the planet the immense battlestars were specks, slowly joined by a host of smaller metallic containers carrying the last remnants of humanity.
They had escaped from an enemy that lived and died by all things metallic. The Cylons were nothing without their machines and had become part machine. But human beings could live outside a metal cocoon. They could walk away from their metal hives and breathe the air of Paradis, eat the food and drink the water.
To Apollo, freedom was more than a condition of the spirit. It was also a physical thing. It was about choices. It could also be a place.
What would the natives be like? He had to admit to himself a feeling of disappointment that there was intelligent native life. But better to discover and deal with them now than after the Colonials began to live up to their name by colonizing the planet.
The inhabitants might be primitive by the standards of space travelers—but to an animal the gulf separating a battlestar from a mud hut was negligible.
Apollo checked the latitude and longitude that Athena had provided. Shortly, he saw the settlement in the distance. The small structures had an elegance of line that was simple and clean. The moment he saw them he made his decision.
It would be wrong to fly over the village and frighten the natives. That was not the way to meet a new people. He didn't exactly expect them to fall down in a swoon and treat the Viper as a chariot from the gods. Apollo chose not to meet them in that fashion because it would be bad manners.
He landed.
He left the Viper and removed his helm.
It was good to stand in this verdant world without any kind of artificial life support. Bending down, he picked up a leaf, savoring the fresh odor in his nostrils and resisting an impulse to put it in his mouth.
The village waited for him over a rise. As his boots crunched twigs and leaves with every step, he considered again the reasons for his decision. The Natives were not just pre-high-tech. Neither the battlestar's scans nor his brief reconnoitering had turned up evidence of any armies.
All indicators suggested peaceful inhabitants.
But he wanted to be certain. In another moment he would make first contact. However it turned out, the responsibility rested on his shoulders alone.
Suddenly he heard a strange sound up ahead, the lowing of a gigantic horn. Then something touched him on the shoulder. He spun around. Who could have gotten behind him without making a sound?
He turned to look at the tall figure now standing before him. The humanoid was a good two feet taller than Apollo, which also made him taller than Gar'Tokk. But in every other respect, the native could be a Noman.
"This is a small universe," Apollo muttered under his breath as he extended
his hand in greeting.
Chapter Two
You look like Athena!"
At first the young girl did not realize that Baltar was addressing her. One glance at his expression changed that. She could feel herself blush.
"You mean I look like Commander Athena?" She barely got the words out, proud that she had not stuttered.
"I never lie about important things," he assured her, "such as the charms of someone kind enough to be my nurse. Did you know that Athena has actually visited me here? She has a job for me."
The young nurse hadn't expected a conversation like this in sickbay. Not knowing what to say, she fluffed up his pillow and said nothing.
"I wouldn't dream of boring you," he said, and then winced.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I used that dirty word. Dreams! They are giving me the most horrible headaches in history. Can you give me something to help with my head?"
"I'd like to, but I'm not your doctor. Haven't you told anyone about the headaches?"
He nodded. "They don't give me anything strong enough."
"Well, I won't lie to you and say I can do anything about it."
He clapped his hands. "Excellent! You don't lie either. As for me, I only prevaricate when the subject at hand is power and destruction, life and death, and other such ephemera."
She laughed nervously. She had been warned about Baltar. It was a kind of honor providing medical attention to someone as dangerous as the man who had once betrayed the entire human race and sacrificed his home world of Caprica to the Cylon enemy. But this was the same man who sustained injuries putting down a dangerous coup led by Sire Aron.
If Baltar had not acted, she might not be alive right now and tending his wounds. Baltar had saved Apollo and Starbuck and the others whom the girl considered personal heroes. And of course he'd once been a member of the Council of Twelve! Naturally, the girl was reticent in his presence.
"What is your name, young lady?" he prompted her to talk to him some more.
She blushed again and almost whispered, "Elayna."
"Thank you for treating me so well."
He had not spoken falsely. She did remind him of Athena, Apollo's regal sister and a woman he could not get out of his mind. It amused him to think how horrified they would all be if they knew how he really felt about Athena. Everyone would pronounce the idea of such a union as impossible and insulting, Athena first.
But Baltar had learned one thing in his interesting life. The future is unpredictable. The wheel of fate turns. The one certainty is that people most certain of the future are certain to be disappointed.
As he watched the young nurse busy herself with attending to the tubes in his arms and reading the dials on his life support, he comforted himself with different scenarios of the future. What if he should regain his position of authority on the Council? With wealth and power in his hands once again, what would Athena think of him then?
Baltar believed that there was no creature more practical and less romantic than a woman. He probably thought this because of his personal experiences. He had prevailed with beautiful and powerful women in his past, but they were never at their best when he was in their lives.
Baltar made a lousy hero. But he was the kind of villain who had a certain panache. He had his moments.
"How have you been sleeping?" asked Elayna, breaking his reverie.
"How thoughtful of you to ask. I dream a lot, as I complained earlier, so I assume that I must be sleeping some of the time."
She wrinkled her cute little nose. "I never know when you're serious."
He always rose to a challenge. "I'll be serious. What can you tell me about the new planet? It's all they talk about in here; but the feeble invalids in here are the last to know anything of substance."
She ignored the insult to his fellow patients. "Paradis is beautiful," she said. "When you're feeling better, you can see it from the Celestial Chamber."
"I've heard there's much life on the planet."
"Oh, yes! It's lush and green and blue. It's teeming with life."
"Too bad," said Baltar to her surprise.
"Now I know that you're joking," she said sternly, allowing herself to pull off one of his bandages with more force than was necessary.
He brightened at the abuse. This girl was worth knowing! "But I'm completely in earnest," he said. "Whenever we run into other life forms we find nothing but trouble. I hope that from now on we find nothing but dead planets with the basic resources we need. But no more living worlds, please! Give me a barren, empty universe where we can finally be left alone."
She finished tending to her patient. "Very well, Baltar, you can start with me!"
The young nurse turned on her heel and left him alone.
"They call themselves the Gamon," said Starbuck. "They could be first cousins of the Nomen. You have any theories on that?"
His bartender didn't have a good answer. He liked Starbuck as a customer and he was a good listener. He especially liked it when the warrior talked about his daughter, Dalton. The bartender had a daughter, too.
He poured the warrior another drink. Starbuck had a remarkable capacity for grog. A good bartender knows when his customer has had enough; but he also knows when the guy is good for more, the true art of his trade.
"I've been down there, you know," said Starbuck.
"Of course."
"I was one of the first."
"Of course."
Starbuck threw back his head and took half the glass of grog in one go. "You want to hear something funny?" he said, wiping foam from his lips. "I haven't met any of 'em yet. I've seen them from a distance. Sometimes I think they don't want me too close to new aliens. Not at first. Maybe they like to hold me in reserve. We've been burned too many times in the past. I don't trust strangers as much as I once did."
The bartender nodded. "I know what you mean."
Encouraged, Starbuck continued: "None of what I'm saying is confidential which is why I can talk about it."
The bartender had heard this sort of thing before. "I appreciate that," he said as he wiped the counter and kept his eye on a new socialator. She was quite striking.
Starbuck followed the bartender's gaze and sized up the girl himself. "She's nice. Her name's Morgana."
They watched her chatting up a well-to-do customer overflowing with cubits.
Times had changed for Starbuck. Caught between his feelings for Athena and Cassie, he hardly knew which way to turn. His love for Cassie was deep but he didn't want to spoil things between her and Apollo. Athena excited him more than any other woman in his life but he was tired of responding to her constant demands. He suspected that she loved him more than he loved her.
That's why grog was good. He finished his drink and thought about how it had been in the good old days, when he when he would have taken a woman like Morgana down to see a sunset on the new world… and stayed for the sunrise.
"I'm looking forward to when I first step foot on Paradis," the bartender volunteered. "I want to stand on solid ground and breathe the kind of air they have down there."
"The air is sweet," agreed Starbuck from firsthand knowledge. "It's sweet as a full glass of ambrosa, a green place, a pleasure."
The bartender was so impressed with Starbuck's poetry that he refilled the glass without being asked. He didn't think to ask if there might be a military threat on Paradis and Starbuck wouldn't answer if he knew. The official position of the Council had not yet been stated but was expected real soon now.
They were still getting acquainted with the planet and coming to grips with the miracle that they have been saved again. Business as usual.
Suddenly the bartender became intoxicated on thoughts of his own future. "I want to go down there," he said. "I want to be outside right before a thunderstorm. I want to feel a change of pressure in my ears. I'll smell the air and it will be different than what we breathe up here."
Starbuck stopped drinking his grog. He wasn'
t used to hearing a bartender hold forth. It was usually the other way round.
"I know what you mean," said Starbuck and he meant it.
Emboldened, the man went on. "I want to see lots of clouds, all bunched up in front of me. I want to feel the wind on my face and arms and legs. I'll taste electricity in the air and raindrops on my tongue."
The bartender stopped, seemed to remember where he was and started wiping the counter again. Starbuck felt the silence between them as if the man's imagined electricity had just seeped into the bar.
"You want it bad," said the veteran of more space battles than even he could remember. "I know how you feel."
"Yes," said the man who had served more drinks than he could remember. "I'd pay any price for it. I never realized until this moment what the new planet means to me. I'd do anything to have a life down there."
Starbuck finished his drink. He glanced one last time at the gorgeous Morgana. Her red hair flamed in a way that made him think of the star they now orbited along with their new planet and its promise of renewed life. She'd just made her conquest and was leading her portly client out of the bar.
"You know what?" Starbuck asked.
"What?"
"If that citizen has any sense, he'll take her down to Paradis not to see the sunset but the sunrise!"
"Breakfast is always good," the bartender agreed, wiping the counter focused again on his world of serious drinking and casual liaisons.
"Wake me when it's over," said Boomer.
"Then who will wake me?" asked Troy.
"How much is it worth it to you if I stay awake?" Cassie wanted to know.
There was nothing more boring and bureaucratic than a meeting of the Council. There was a limit to how many stats and projections anyone could stand.
But then came the special moment. The Council broadcast from its chamber a formal statement honoring Commander Cain and the sacrifice of the Pegasus in the battle of Kobol, hopefully the final war for a people that had suffered much.
Everyone wanted to honor Sheba as well, Cain's daughter. She had agreed to give a speech.
A picture of Sheba filled the screens of everyone watching from orbit and everyone with monitors on the planet. She stood on a grassy hilltop next to a tree and placed a wreath of flowers on a headstone. The camera zoomed in and showed the inscription:
Battlestar Galactica-05-Paradis Page 2
