THE SCHOOL OF FEAR

CHAPTER 10

The party was held at the same villa the first one had been. More warriors from the Third Fleet were invited this time and the first thing they noticed was that Cain’s people had brought some women.
“They let them out of their cages,” Rhiannon whispered to Leah, who poked her to be quiet.
“Now Rhiannon, behave,” she admonished.
“All right, all right...where’s the food?”
“Over here. Come on, it looks good.”
Rhiannon and Leah got in line for the buffet. Ahead of them was a woman dressed in Scorpian civilian garb, a long, flowing dress in a brilliant shade of blue, covered by a patterned cloak, its hood thrown back to reveal sunny ripples of blonde hair. The woman turned to them and smiled. “You’re from the Columbia? I’m from the Pegasus.”
“Where’s your uniform?” Rhiannon asked automatically as she speared a promising-looking morsel to put on her plate.
The woman smiled, condescendingly, Rhiannon thought. “I’m not in the military anymore. I’m sealed to Colonel Bojay.”
“Oh,” Rhiannon said, more noncommittally than she might have otherwise, having just been the recipient of another cautionary prod from Leah. That didn’t prevent her from thinking, How very unfortunate for you….
“My name is Niobe.”
“I am Lieutenant Rhiannon, and this is Lieutenant Leah. And we are here together,” Rhiannon could not resist adding, but she did not wait to see any response before turning her attention back to the considerably more interesting food.
Leah was more polite. “Do you have any children?”
“I have five children,” Niobe replied proudly.
Before Rhiannon could make the comment Leah knew was forthcoming she poked her again and said, “You must be very proud of them.”
“Oh, I am. They’re beautiful. Would you like to see some holos?”
“Of course.”
Rhiannon groaned inwardly and continued selecting food. Was there any possible more boring topic? Children...someday, maybe, but not anytime soon, for Sagan’s sake. And who in their right mind would want to have more than two children? It was positively anti-social. Leaving Leah and Niobe to their admiration of Niobe’s holos, she found a peaceful corner and began to eat. Scorpian food was not a favorite of hers, but this was well-prepared and edible enough. As she ate she watched people circulate around the courtyard. Somehow it all reminded her of a duel, the initial microns of sizing one’s opponent up before moving in for the kill. We aren’t making connections with them, nor they with us. We just circle around, watch, and wait.
Abruptly Rhiannon lost her appetite and set her plate down on a nearby table. As she did so, Leah came up, having finally shed Niobe, and she asked, concerned, “Are you all right? You look rather ill. Is it the food?”
“No, it’s not the food.” Looking at Leah, she thought, Surely this is leading straight to war...and love makes life precious.
“Are you all right?” Leah pressed, taking her arm.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She looked around and said, “Is this boring or what?”
“It is a trifle dull.”
“Fine. What do you say we look around a bit?”
“Are we supposed to?”
“No, but who cares?” Rhiannon said.
“Lead the way.”

At long last Miriam had Cain where she wanted him, to herself. She found him standing by one of the strange little trees, no one else about, and going over to him she commented politely, “My older daughter is very interested in someday meeting you, Commander. She’s written a book that partly deals with Hector and would like to find out if her theory of what happened at Molecay is close to the truth?”
“What does she think?” Cain asked affably.
“She thinks you were ambushed.”
“She’s right. We were hit by six baseships,” said Cain.
Miriam was more than a little surprised when Cain launched into a full explanation of what had happened at Molecay. Not only did it sound plausible, from comparison with Cylon post-holocaust tactics, something Cain could know nothing about, it sounded likely. Was it possible that Cain was not the fraud she suspected him of being? Certainly she would prefer to believe that. But his response to her question didn’t square at all with the goings-on since they had arrived at Gamoray. What did he have to hide?
When Cain had finished, Miriam said, “Very interesting. Not completely what Amala thought, but very interesting, Commander. I remember a similar Cylon set-up at Orion ten yahrens ago. Fortunately, that time we had the force to win.”
Cain nodded. “Three to six wasn’t the best of odds, and of course they already had forces on the planet. We were outnumbered, outgunned, and just about out of luck.”
Seeing an opening, she pressed, “Commander, we’re very interested in the possibility of establishing some kind of presence on Gamoray. A liaison of sorts, preparatory to establishing diplomatic and commercial relations. I take it you do not consider your planet to be part of the Colonies.”
“We haven’t decided yet what our status is, or should be,” said Cain. “We’d be glad to have you set up some sort of office here.”
“Excellent. Would the liaison be directly with you, or is there some kind of civil or military structure we would deal with?”
“We don’t have a formal civilian government yet; we’re still arguing over the forms. I’m it, I’m afraid. You’d probably be dealing more with my advisor, though.”
“Oh. And who is that?”
“His name is Count Iblis,” Cain replied.

Walking along the empty corridors of Cain’s house, Rhiannon, followed closely by Leah, was industriously opening doors and peering into rooms, which for the most part proved to be empty and dusty. A few contained odd bits of uncomfortable Delphian furniture, often heaped together as though stored. The evidence suggested to her that the house was only used for ceremonial events; that, or perhaps Cain and whatever entourage he required occupied only a small portion of the large building. She was more inclined to believe the first; I’m betting they use this place just to keep us away from the city, she thought.
“Are you looking for something?” Leah inquired after several centons of Rhiannon’s nosing-about.
“A bedroom would be nice,” Rhiannon declared.
Leah smiled. “You,” she accused, “have a one-track mind sometimes.”
“Just me? Not you?”
Leah’s smile widened slightly. “Mmmm,” she replied mysteriously.
Rhiannon opened the next door, revealing another dark, empty room. “Lovely d�cor they have here,” she said, sliding through the opening and drawing Leah in after her.
“Rhiannon, we are going to get all dusty.”
“We are not going to get all dusty. I just wanted to hold you without having some Scorpian come along the hall and have us both taken out and shot.”
“Oh. All right.”
Rhiannon decided that it was not her imagination that Leah sounded faintly disappointed. That was wonderfully pleasing. “Later,” she whispered. Her earlier unease faded as they held one another.
“You are all right?” Leah asked into her neck. “You did look bad before.”
“I’m all right.” Rhiannon nuzzled into Leah’s hair and relaxed. Perhaps she’d be able to face the rest of that tedious party.
“Now,” Leah whispered, worries about dust clearly forgotten. She pushed Rhiannon back against the wall and as she kissed her sought the fastenings of her uniform. “Whoever designed these things...,” she muttered.
“Yeah, no pockets,” Rhiannon sighed.
“Pockets?!”
“Don’t stop. Ignore me....”
Rhiannon was off somewhere, observing more than participating, head back, eyes closed as Leah got her tunic open. Somewhere out there was a sound, something that should bother her, something she should recognize, but....
Suddenly Rhiannon’s eyes opened and her head came up and around. Leah felt her stiffen and whispered, “What is it?”
Rhiannon put a warning finger to her lips and eased her laser pistol out of its holster, finding a new kind of comfort in its weight and feel. She did hear something. Something on the edge of reason, a sound from a half-forgotten nightmare. Maybe it was there, maybe it wasn’t, but then she saw Leah’s eyes widen in horrified recognition and knew that her ears weren’t deceiving her. It couldn’t be....

“Well, did you get....anything out of Cain?” Noday asked Miriam as she rendezvoused with her at the buffet.
“I did. He was forthcoming about Molecay and it sounded plausible. I almost feel bad about suspecting him, and then I remember all the other felgercarb...have you had any of this yet?”
“The, um, blue stuff isn’t bad,” Noday opined.
Trustingly putting some on her plate, Miriam looked around the courtyard and frowned. “Hell.”
“What?”
“My daughter and her friend vanished some time ago and don’t seem to be back.”
Noday smiled. “I sympathize with them.”
“So do I, but this is hardly the place. Do me a favor, go find them and bring them back.”
“Now Miriam....”
“Before one of these Scorpians finds them first,” she added.
“Good point. I’ll....be right back.”
Noday had expected her search to take some time, so she was pleasantly surprised when she encountered the two miscreants coming back into the courtyard. “I was looking...,” she began, then noticed their expressions. “Are you all....right? What happened?”
Rhiannon’s eyes darted nervously around the room before she looked up at Noday and forced on an obviously artificial smile. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing,” she repeated after a centon.
“Nothing,” Leah echoed.
Noday looked from Rhiannon to Leah and then back. Neither of them was much of an actor. Something clearly was wrong. “Later?” Noday asked, reaching around to brush dust smears off the back of Rhiannon’s uniform.
Rhiannon nodded. “Later.”

There was another meeting in Adama’s quarters after the shuttles returned from the party; this time Cassiopiea was present as well. Everyone listened attentively as Miriam recounted Cain’s version of the battle of Molecay.
“That sounds likely,” said Adama when she’d finished.
She nodded. “It does. He also seems willing to permit us to establish a liaison on the planet, but he told me we would be dealing primarily with his advisor, a Count Iblis. Does that name sound familiar to anyone?”
There was general agreement that it did not. “Did he say anything about this Count Iblis?” Adama asked.
“No. We were interrupted at that point, unfortunately.” Turning to Cassiopiea, she asked, “Does that name sound familiar to you, Cassiopiea?”
“Not at all,” Cassiopiea replied. “It’s not a name he ever mentioned.”
Aeneas asked Miriam, “Did you have the impression that Cain was leveling with you?”
“Very much so. I was favorably impressed,” Miriam said. “I have one other thing...which I hesitate to report.”
“If you think it’s relevant, tell us,” Apollo encouraged.
“My daughter and a friend of hers decided to go exploring. Something I did not and do not approve of, naturally. She thinks...they both think they heard something. They didn’t see it, but they heard it.”
“What?” Serina prompted.
“A Cylon.”
Her words hit them like a detonating bomb. After a centon of stunned silence everyone started asking questions and talking at once until Aeneas waved them to silence and said into the ensuing pause, “They must have been mistaken.”
Cassiopiea agreed. “Surely all of the Cylons were destroyed in the war. And Cain would never—never deal with the Cylons. He hated them with every part of himself.”
Adama nodded. “It was as much a part of his character as of mine. We disagreed on many things, Cain and I, but in that we were united.”
“How certain were they?” Serina asked.
“Very.”
To Adama, Serina said, “I saw them with Colonel Noday after they came back into the courtyard. They were obviously shaken up.”
Starbuck was inclined to be dismissive. “I think they were hearing things,” he announced.
“I hate to disillusion you, Commander,” Noday shot back, equally dismissively, “but I....don’t think that’s the case. I believe they think they heard what they thought they heard. If that makes any sense. They may have been mistaken, but they didn’t make it up.”
Adama looked to his son. “You’ve been quiet, Apollo.”
“I’m thinking. Nothing makes sense here, nothing.” Apollo’s frustration was evident in his voice and gestures.
“We’re on incredibly thin ice,” said Aeneas. “We don’t trust them and I’m betting they don’t trust us. The situation is ripe for misunderstandings, and incredibly dangerous.”
“We cannot afford to make mistakes,” Miriam said. “Too much is riding on us. And I will remind you now of the oath we all took after the holocaust. Never again.”

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