THE SCHOOL OF FEAR

CHAPTER 9

“Good news, my lord,” Akamas informed Aeneas as the latter arrived on Columbia’s bridge first thing in the morning, as was his habit. “Warp scout F-27 Flashbolt is inbound, arrival time one and a quarter centares.”
“That’s ours?”
“We got a new one, and she’s a beauty,” Akamas confirmed. “Rhiannon reports that they have Cassiopiea on board.”
“Excellent. Inform Commander Adama and the ship commanders we’ll meet in two centares.”

Cassiopiea felt out-of-place in Columbia’s briefing room, and not only because she was one of only two people present not wearing a uniform. She had never had much contact with the military apart from her relationship with Cain and the lifestyle and mindset were alien to her, even more so since Cain had been distinctly unmilitaristic. After him, the commanders of the four warships gathered in Gamoray orbit seemed unreasonably serious people. They were pleasant to her, but Commander Adama, like her in civilian clothing, was the only one who smiled.
The only empty place left at the ovoid table was at one of the small ends, opposite Adama, so she sat there, with green-eyed, handsome Commander Apollo of the Galactica to her right and Commander Miriam, whose relationship to Rhiannon would have been immediately apparent even had she not already known about it, to her left. As she settled down, Aeneas said, “Forgive us for whatever disruption this must have caused in your life. We felt it vital to be able to consult with someone who had known Cain well.”
“If I can be of any help, the disruption will have been worthwhile, Commander,” Cassiopiea said pleasantly. “What do you need to know?”
Miriam said, “I presume you’ve been briefed.”
“The President sent me a report, yes.”
“Unfortunately we’re not in a position to expand much on that initial briefing, so it may be misleading. Commander Cain’s people have been very recalcitrant about arranging access to the surface of Gamoray.”
“We’re going to show you some excerpts from a recording made of our initial meeting with Cain,” Adama said. “We’d like to hear your impressions.”
“Fine.” She leaned forward as a somewhat blurred image formed on the screen behind him.
A confusing mixture of emotions swirled through Cassiopiea as she saw Cain for the first time in nearly thirty yahrens. Theirs had been a complicated relationship...complicated but interesting. Cain was a fascinating individual, a heady mix of drives and feelings, quite unlike the usual run of losers she encountered in her profession. She’d thought she had gotten over him long since, but as she watched the recording the pain of his loss and something like longing came back.
“Well?” Aeneas prompted afterwards.
“He...doesn’t seem to have changed very much,” Cassiopiea said quietly.
“That’s the impression we all had,” said Adama.
“However,” Aeneas added, “there are some disturbing factors. Our scans appear to be jammed. We’re restricted to a geosynchronus orbit, over a single point on the planet, which they picked. From what we can learn there seems to be an unusually high level of industrial activity on the planet....”
“That may not be sinister at all,” Apollo pointed out. “Delphian industry was known to be highly automated.”
Interesting, Cassiopiea thought. They disagree among themselves. In fact, I get the impression they’ve had this discussion before.
Commander Starbuck, sitting at the end near Adama, had heretofore been silent. Now he lit a fumarello, sat back a little and said, “We know that, Apollo. Question is, how much industrial output does a civilization estimated to have a population of around fifteen thousand need?”
“Exactly,” Miriam agreed.
Cassiopiea was startled. That information had not been in her briefing document. “Fifteen thousand? How many of the ships from the Fifth Fleet survived?”
“Only the Pegasus,” Miriam replied. “Evidently the Scorpians have reverted to norm and are using their women as breeding material.”
“My lady, please,” Aeneas said. “Until we know more, let’s keep this on a higher level.”
“With all due respect, Commander,” Miriam replied, her omission of the honorific my lord a deliberate reminder of their relative status in Sagitaran society, “we would know more were Cain and his people a little more forthcoming. In any case, you know my opinion on the subject.” Turning to Cassiopiea, she said, “Possibly you could tell us if Commander Cain ever struck you as being secretive or paranoid or possibly...having delusions of taking power for himself.”
Clearly there are two views of Cain here, Cassiopeia thought. Aeneas and Apollo want to be fair-minded, Miriam and Starbuck are being judgmental. But who is wrong and who is right? I know which side I want to be right.... “Cain certainly had an ego. In this kind of situation, saving his ship, bringing the survivors to safety, founding what I suppose you could call a new Colony...certainly there would be plenty of people willing to feed that ego out of their own gratitude. Cain would enjoy that, but I don’t see him taking advantage of it. Cain loved the Colonies; he was a warrior. He took his warrior oath seriously.”
“Yes, but what are his loyalties now?” Miriam pressed.
“Exactly,” Starbuck agreed, punctuating the remark with a wave of his fumarello.
“Wouldn’t it be understandable if his first loyalty was to his crew?” Cassiopiea asked. “They’ve obviously been through a lot together. Molecay, their escape, founding their new Colony. I can understand him asserting some independence in that case. But dangerous...no, I can’t believe that.”
“I will be honest with you,” Miriam told her bluntly, “I do not trust the man. I never did.”
Curious, Apollo asked, “Why?”
Considering his question for a centon, she said, “I always thought of him as being all flash and no action. I’m sorry, I thought he was overrated. And we still don’t know what happened at Molecay.”
“Which bothers me too,” said Starbuck. “What does he have to hide?”
“Maybe nothing,” said Cassiopiea quietly.
“Then why is he acting like this?” Starbuck demanded.
“Maybe it isn’t Cain. Maybe it’s his underlings,” Commander Akamas spoke for the first time.
“You see our problem,” Adama told Cassiopiea. “A lack of hard information and a surfeit of conjecture.”
“I do see that. It seems dangerous.”
“I believe that my daughter brought you back from the Colonies,” Miriam said. “Possibly someone told you what happened when she encountered Cain’s people for the first time.”
“Cain would never have approved of anything like that,” Cassiopiea said hotly. Ares had told her at one point; after that she had tended to better understand the cheery weaponry discussion around the dinner table. It reminded her of something Cain had explained to her once, how politics were not for warriors, they just wanted to fight and survive, no matter who the opponent chosen for them was.
“She’s right,” Apollo concurred. “I know the man’s record.”
“Then who the hell are we dealing with?” Miriam demanded. “Who is in charge down there?”
“That’s what we have to find out,” said Starbuck.
Adama smiled at Cassiopiea and said, “We must not be giving you the best impression of the military.”
“I can understand the controversy, Commander. Cain was...is a controversial man, and a complex one. I just hope that nobody allows their prejudices, if I may use that word, to get in the way of new information.”
“I think you’ll find we’re fairly open-minded,” said Starbuck. “We just have this thing about being ready.”
“In other words,” Miriam said, “we are not going to risk losing another war. We came too close the first time.”
“Will I be able to meet Cain?” Cassiopiea asked Adama.
“We’re still discussing that. I know it must seem heartless of us, but we wonder if for the present it might be best to have Cain unknowing of your presence here so his reactions might be more genuine. He doesn’t know I’m here either,” he added. “I do regret this subterfuge, but....”
“Unfortunately it seems necessary,” Aeneas said. “I regret it also.”
Aeneas, Adama, and Apollo were remarkably likable men. The others Cassiopiea would reserve judgment on for now.

“How’s Grandfather?” Amala asked Rhiannon over dinner aboard the Columbia a few days after the latter had returned from the Colonies. It was late and the officer’s mess was nearly empty aside from a small wad of bridge officers listlessly arguing over the remnants of the dessert assortment.
“The honored President of the Council is the same as ever.”
“He takes too much on himself. He should retire, and take some time for him and Grandmother for once.”
Rhiannon scoffed, “And let someone like my father take over? Please....”
“I see your point.”
“Speaking of fathers, how’s yours?”
“Impossible,” Amala announced. “He has the chance of a lifetime with that reporter and what does he do? Nothing, so far as I know.”
“Well, don’t push him. He’s an adult, he can handle himself.”
“Ha.” Amala rearranged her food restlessly, asked, “And how’s your navigator?”
“My navigator is fine, and your sarcasm is noted,” Rhiannon shot back.
Amala smiled sweetly at her half-sister. She loved Rhiannon dearly but did not understand her at all. Having spent much of her youth with Apollo and Adama she was far more Caprican than Sagitaran, and Rhiannon with her various preferences seemed quite peculiar compared to her own scholarly bent. Rhiannon loved her sister in turn, but found her hopelessly dull. Wisely, they limited their meetings.
“All right,” Amala relented, “I was being sarcastic. I’m sorry, Rhiannon. I don’t understand it, but you obviously care for her...which is a nice change, lords know. I think she’s been good for you.”
“Well, possibly,” Rhiannon muttered, always uncomfortable when confronting or being confronted with her own emotions.
“Here comes your friend,” Amala noted as Ares came in, glanced briefly around, and then headed unerringly for their table.
“What’s up?” Rhiannon asked.
“Galactica’s scout just came through one of the portals; it’s inbound now.”
“Where’d they go? From what I hear they haven’t been gone more than a couple days.”
“You’ve got me. They never tell us anything.”
Rhiannon rose and said, “Let’s go up to Flight Control. Maybe we’ll overhear something. See you later,” she told Amala. “Oh, and take my tray up, would you?” she added back over her shoulder, ignoring her sister’s look.
“Who is that?” Ares asked, a nod indicating Amala.
“My half-sister. You should meet her,” she added with sudden inspiration. “She’s not like me, if you know what I mean.”
Looking back to where Amala was clearing off the table she and Rhiannon had occupied, he said, “No, thanks. I have this thing about women who are taller than me.”
“You,” Rhiannon decided, “are a very dull person.”

Caprica’s mission had been planned with one purpose in mind; to get a close look, no matter how brief, at the side of Gamoray they were forbidden to view. The scout had left the system, traveled to another system that had a portal leading back to Gamoray, and had returned, timing her arrival so her final approach to the fleet would bring her in over Gamoray’s back side.
“Frack. They were jammed,” Starbuck said, sweeping a sheaf of printouts off the Galactica’s briefing table onto the deck in disgust.
He, Apollo, and Miriam had met there to examine the data collected by Caprica on her way in. Apollo had to agree with his friend. “It was a good idea-tell Noday that, Miriam-but most of this is useless. By the time our scout got within decent scanner range they were set up and waiting.”
Sitting down on a corner of the table and lighting another of his omnipresent fumarellos, Starbuck said, “It proves one thing to me.”
“Which is?” Apollo asked.
“They’ve got something to hide.”
Miriam was more than inclined to agree with Starbuck, but before expressing an opinion she asked Apollo, “What do you think?”
Apollo sat down, sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. At times I think we’re being insanely paranoid...and then I think we’re not being paranoid enough.”
Starbuck began, “Apollo, if he didn’t have anything to hide....”
“He wouldn’t behave like this,” Miriam broke in. “We’ve got to gather more information. And we’ve got to get down to the planet.”
“Cain’s having another get-together tomorrow,” said Apollo. “Maybe we can press him to accept a presence on the planet, in the form of a semiformal liaison of some kind.”
Miriam nodded. “That’s a good idea. Any possible foothold we can get down there is worth trying for.”

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