BLOOD TRAIL
A Galactica 1980/Babylon 5 crossover fanfic
by Paul Robison
Posted August 2007

Special Guest Stars:
1.  The Narns, Babylon 5 ( Changed to the Nomen, Battlestar Galactica)
2.  Ambassador G?Kar, Babylon 5 (Ambassador Kar, Nomen ambassador to the
Council of Twelve)
3.  Na?Toth, Babylon 5 (Toth, Kar?s attache)
4.  Londo Mollari, Babylon 5 ( Sire Mollary, of the Council of Twelve)
5.  Delenn, Babylon 5 (Siress Delenn)
6.  Lennier, Babylon 5  (Sire Lennier, junior member of the Council of
Twelve)

Spolier: Babylon 5, Book #3: ?Blood Oath? by John Vornholt.  Dell
Paperbacks, N.Y, N.Y, (c) 1995

Author's Note: I don't own these shows. They belong to Universal Studios
and Glen A. Larson and Warner Bros and J. Michael Straczynski. I just
wanted to bring them out and play with them, so please don?t sue me?


CHAPTER 1
THE UNTRACEABLE DATA CRYSTAL

     The data crystal was dark, like a smoky quartz, and Ambassador Kar
twisted it between his thick fingers.  He marveled at the way its subtle
facets could absorb and access data at speeds that rivaled the Nomen
mind. The best dark crystals were grown in the desert of the Mega Sun,
and this one had the look of top quality.  Something caught Kar?s eye,
and he furrowed his ridged forehead and squinted at the crystal?s
metallic connector.  That was odd. The date and microscopic identity
patterns had been removed by a laser beam, making the crystal all but
untraceable.  Who would want to send him an untraceable data crystal in
his regular mail pouch.
     Intrigued, the ambassador stood up and slipped the crystal into the
viewer on his wall.  A female Nomen appeared on the screen, and what a
female Nomen she was!  Young and slender, she was wearing a flowing gown
of bloodred material, and it was cinched with a belt and scabbard that
accentuated her curves.  Her hazelnut eyes gleamed with intensity and
arrested Kar to the spot.  He didn?t know what the young Nomen was going
to say on this recorded message, but she certainly had caught his
attention.
     ?Hello, Kar,? said the woman imperiously.  ?You recognize me, do you
not?  I am Mira, daughter of Rog.  I speak for my mother, Het, and my
brother, Kog. We are all that?s left of the family you destroyed.  Yes,
Kar, we are beaten, and our titles and belongings are gone.  Our father
is dead, his name disgraced, and his attempt to kill you from the grave
was a failure.  To our shame, every assassin has failed.?
     Kar swallowed hard and leaned closer.  He dreaded what was coming
next.
     Mira?s lovely face contorted into rage.  ?You think you are safe
within the Third Circle and the Battlestar Galactica.  You are wrong! 
The widow, the son, and the daughter of Rog have gone on a ?Blood Hunt?
against you!  No more will you face inept assassins....but the very 
family you destroyed!  The Prophets willing, by my own hands you will
die.  From this day forward, the purpose of our Blood Hunt is to kill
you.  Let this mark show my will.?
     With that, Mira pulled a short but vicious-looking sword from her
scabbard and pressed the blade to her head. At once, the blood streamed
from the wound and flowed down her delicate cheekbone to her neck and
shoulder, where it mingled with the identical color in her gown.
Involuntarily, Kar reached up and touched his own ridged forehead.
     The viewer blinked off, and he snatched the data crystal from the
viewer.  He half expected his tormentor to leap out of the closet with
her bloody knife.  No, she was not here at this moment, but she would be
here....someday.  If he didn?t do something  about Mira, daughter of Rog,
she would strike him down in the middle of dinner or smother him while he
slept.  Knowing that, he would never sleep again.
     Kar dashed to his terminal with the impulse of ordering her arrest. 
He stopped himself, realizing that he couldn?t bring the full weight of
his position down upon the family of Rog.  The ?Blood Hunt? was a
tradition that was central to the heart of the Nomen; if he squashed
them, it would only win them sympathy.  Even The Code would prevail
against him.  Worse yet, an action against Mira, Het, and Kog would bring
to light the whole unsavory business of his ascendancy to the Third
Circle, his treachery, and Rog?s disgrace.  He had let this wound fester
too long, and now the infection was about to spread----unless he took his
knife and cut it out.
     Kar sighed and slumped back into his chair, the stiff leather of his
waistcoat squeaking against the pelt covering the cushion.  He would have
to do something----already the family of Rog had made two serious
attempts on his life, and here was the daughter threatening more!  He
could count on protection from Captain Troy and his warriors for as long
as he remained on the Galactica.  But where did he go after his welcome
was worn out?  The Fleet was filled with humans and strangers of all
types, with a few non-human residents who?d joined Adama?s trek through
the stars along the way.   Earth was certainly no option, as it was
populated by a nearly archaic species. Under Adama?s orders, only
specially authorized personnel could land until the Colonial?s long-lost
sister planet was brought up to technological speed.  If Mira was as
determined as she sounded, she would find some way onto the Galactica and
would stalk him until her Blood Hunt was fulfilled.  Only death would
stop her.
     Therefore, thought Kar rationally, Mira would have to die.  Het and
Kog might listen to reason if that firebrand in the red dress was gone.
Whom could he ask to help him?  No self-respecting Nomen would take his
side against such a well-deserved Blood Hunt, and he couldn?t share his
secret with Colonials, or Earthmen.  If only he could kill Mira himself
and make it appear as if somebody else had done it.  Kar glanced round
his quarters, just to make certain that his foe wasn?t hiding behind the
curtains.  He remembered well the other attempts on his life, and how
both had nearly been successful.
     The first order of business was to put the daughter of Rog off the
scent, make sure she was not hunting him faster than he could hunt her. 
When she was at ease, he would strike.
     The ambassador activated the telecommunicator on his desk.  ?Good
morning, Toth.?
     ?Good morning, Ambassador,? his assistant answered crisply.
     Kar cleared his throat importantly.  ?A special dispatch has just
come in, and I must return to the Borella immediately.  I will pilot
myself in my personal transport.?
     He could imagine her puzzled face as she said, ?Ambassador, the
shuttle Shanavas is arriving tomorrow for a courtesy call.  They could
take you back to the Borella in half the time of your transport.?
     ?The Shanavas,? said Kar thoughtfully, ?and my old friend, Tok. 
That is tempting, but I prefer to pilot myself.  I need some time
alone...to think.  I will be leaving in four hours, and I will do my own
packing.  Cancel my appointments, make my apologies, and do whatever is
necessary.  If anybody asks, this is personal business.?
     ?Yes, Ambassador,? said Toth, not letting her surprise affect her
efficiency.
     ?Good morning, Toth.?  He deactivated the telecommunicator and sat
back in his chair.  He wished he could tell Toth his plans, but he knew
her feelings regarding the Blood Hunt.  Perhaps he could tell her when it
was all over, if he was victorious.

**************************************

     Colonel Boomer shifted on the balls of his feet as he surveyed his
domain: the bridge, center of operations for the last surviving Colonial
battlestar.  His hair was cut shorter than usual today, and he felt
tense, though he hadn?t the faintest idea why.  The fifty-thousand
kilometers of space separating the Fleet from Earth were peaceful, even
though inter-fleet traffic had fallen somewhat behind schedule.  The only
one complaining was Ambassador Kar, which figured.
     ?Colonel, I have Captain Vice of Sun Eagle Squadron on Unicom,? said
one of the crewmembers behind him.  ?He?s  requesting clearance to land.?
     Boomer gazed at his monitor in time to see eight vipers emerge from
the darkness, on a direct bee-line for the Galactica, slowing down as
they approached the port side landing bay.
     ?Tell him that clearance to land is granted,? Boomer instructed the
crewman.
     ?Commander on the bridge,? announced a voice.
     ?As you were,? replied the cheerful voice of Commander Adama. 
Boomer turned around to see the commander as he strode across the floor,
nodding to subordinates. His hands were clasped behind his back, which he
had come to recognize as his nonintrusive approach.  There was no
emergency or urgent business to discuss, but Adama still looked concerned
about something.  He always did after talking with Dr. Zee.
     He gave the older man a brief nod.  ?Hello, Commander.?
     ?Boomer.?  The bearded man smiled boyishly.  ?How is traffic
tonight??
     ?Moderate.  Long-range patrols are slightly behind schedule, so are
other departures.?
     ?Any complaints??
     ?One.?
     Adama frowned.  ?That would be Ambassador Kar, wouldn?t it??
     ?It would be,? Boomer answered.  ?He?s in his personal transport,
and he seems to be in quite a hurry to get off the Galactica.?
     Adama scratched his wispy white beard.  ?Yes, Dr. Zee informed me of
his leaving.  Rather sudden, wouldn?t you say?  Kar isn?t known for
leaving like this, without any ceremony.?
     ?No, sir, he isn?t.  He was recalled to the Borella unexpectedly. 
None of us knows why.?
     Bridge Officer Balvey broke in.  ?Commander, the ambassador wants to
know if he?s been cleared for launch.?
     ?Patch him into me for a moment,? said the commander.
     At once, the Nomen?s ridged forehead and jutting jaw appeared on the
monitor in front of Adama.  He looked agitated.  ?What is the delay??
demanded the ambassador.  ?Oh, hello, Commander Adama.  Is there some
difficulty??
     ?That was going to be my question,? said the commander.  ?It?s not
like you to leave as suddenly as this, and I wondered if there was a
problem.  Can we do anything to help??
     The Nomen shook his head impatiently.  ?I left word that this is a
personal matter, which I must handle myself.  I?ll be checking in with
Toth, and you can consult her about my return.  Am I cleared to launch or
not??
     Adama hesitated.  ?Have a safe trip, Ambassador.  You know, it?s a
long way for someone to be flying solo in a small craft.?
     Kar?s eyes narrowed.  ?We all have responsibilities, and some of
them we must face alone.  Good-bye, Commander.?
     ?Good-bye,? said Adama.
     Boomer felt an odd apprehension as he went through the prelaunch
checklist.  ?Good-bye? was such a simple phrase, yet depending on how it
was said, it could mean a cheerful parting for a few minutes or the
anguished parting of forever.  There was something ominous in the way Kar
and Adama had exchanged those simple words.  He glanced at Commander
Adama, who was trying so hard to understand the Nomen ambassadors and, at
the same time, keep his distance from them.  Adama had yet to learn how
futile it was to try to think like them, or how difficult it was to keep
from being drawn into their intrigues.
     He wanted to tell Kar good luck, but all he said was, ?Core systems
transferring control to Nomen transport.  Launch when ready.?
     As the small fumarello-shaped vessel lifted off from the tarmac in 
Launch Bay Alpha and glided into the starscape, Commander Adama shook his
head.  ?Was he in any kind of trouble with the Nomen Council??
     ?I don?t know,? Boomer said with a shrug.  ?Contrary to popular
belief I don?t know everything that goes on here.?
     Commander Adama was just turning to leave when it happened.  The
instruments tracking Kar?s one-man ship shot off their scales.
     ?Solium leak!  Nomen transport!? shouted a crewmember.
A colleague added, ?Solium levels increasing four-hundred percent!?
     Boomer pouned his communications panel.  ?Nomen transport, come in! 
Kar!?
     The small ship continued to drift for a second until it exploded
into a searing cloud of subatomic particles.  The explosion blossomed
outward through space, until it vanished like a rainbow chased by the
sun.  In less than two seconds, there was nothing left of Kar?s personal
transport but ever-expanding space dust.
     ?Good Kobol!? said a crewmember behind Boomer.
     Commander Adama leaned on a panel, gaping with amazement at the
glimmering starscape, where there had been a ship a few seconds earlier. 
He swallowed hard and yelled, ?Organize a rescue team!  Launch Blue
Squadron!?
     ?Blue Squadron,? said Boomer, ?scramble for recon probe----code
ten----grid alpha 136.  Also, search and rescue, go to grid alpha 136.?
     ?There?s nothing left of it,? said one stunned crewmember. ?There?s
not enough left to fill a thimble.?
     Nobody was going to rescind the order to send a Viper squadron and a
rescue team, but it certainly looked pointless.  A few seconds later, a
crewmember announced that Blue Squadron was in the air and circling the
coordinates.  The rescue team was getting suited up for a space walk.
     Commander Adama went over to the communications console. "This is
Commander Adama to Captain Troy, come in.?
     ?Yes, grandfather,? said the black-haired strike commander, sounding
a little groggy, as if he?d been taking a nap.
     ?There?s been a terrible accident,? Adama glanced at Boomer.  ?At
least we think it?s an accident.?
     ?A rhodium charge on the main solium reactor would do that,? the
black colonel said.
     Adama heaved his shoulders.  ?Anyway, Troy, Kar is dead.?
     ?What!? blurted Troy, formerly known by his nickname of Boxey, which
his mother, Serina, and his adoptive family aboard Galactica had used.
?How??
     ?Meet me on the bridge,? grumbled Adama.  ?Out.?
     A moment later, the filtered monitor image of Captain Troy was
replaced by a young man in a flight helmet.  ?Blue Squadron, reporting.?
The image of Troy?s wingman, the sandy-haired Lt. Dillon, was slightly
grainy, but Boomer could still make out the worry in his face.
     ?Report,? he said.
     Dillon studied his instruments. ?I?m picking up lots of trace
elements, residual gasses, and a pocket of radiation. I see exactly where
the explosion took place, but if you?re looking for survivors...forget
it.  We?ll be lucky to find any debris at all.?
     Boomer nodded grimly, having expected the worst.  He glanced at
Commander Adama, and his usually unruffled face looked shocked and gaunt. 
That confirmed it.
     Kar of the Third Circle, the Nomen Ambassador to the Council of
Twelve, was dead.

*****************************************************

CHAPTER  2
AMBASSADOR KAR IS.....DEAD

     Since Kar often worked in his quarters, Toth used her access to go
in and organize his transparencies, data crystals, and documents.  Kar
could be messy and disorganized when left to his own devices, and she was
looking for commitments he hadn?t told her about, perhaps even a clue as
to why he had left so suddenly.
     Could he be in trouble with the Council?  Kar?s allies in the
Council were supposed to keep him out of the political fray, to leave him
free to do his job, but they were not always successful.  Kar was
outspoken, short-tempered, and secretive....he could have enemies and
battles she didn?t even know about.  Toth sank into the chair at his desk
and saw half-a-dozen data crystals strewn across the desktop.  She
scooped them up ans shoved them into a corner, still wondering about his
mysterious departure, going alone and piloting himself.
     The door chimed and Toth lifted her formidable jaw.  Temporarily,
she was the sole representative of the Nomen on the Battlestar Galactica,
and she had to conduct herself in a certain manner.  The visitor was
probably a constituent having travel difficulties or a Colonial making a
complaint about some incident of Nomen brutality.  She had a special data
crystal with autoerase for those complaints.
     ?Enter!?
     To her surprise, it wasn?t a confused civilian but Commander Adama,
followed by Captain Troy and Colonel Boomer.  Toth bristled in her chair,
thinking that they were after information.  But even if she knew
anything, which she didn?t, she wasn?t about to discuss Kar?s personal
affairs with a bunch of Colonials.
     ?Can I help you??
     Commander Adama halted and straightened his shoulders.  He looked
back at his subordinates, but they both looked dazed and unable to offer
him any help.  Toth turned slowly in her chair, realizing that they
weren?t after information....they had come to deliver it.
     ?The ambassador.....? Adama said hoarsely.  ?Ambassador Kar is dead. 
His ship exploded just after launch.?
     ?What!? shouted Toth, leaping to her feet.  She brought her fist
down on the desk with a thud, and the data crystals bounced off the
corner and rolled around.
     ?We?re conducting an investigation,? Troy said.  ?We?re wondering if
you can tell us anything.?
     Toth shook her head like a maddened daemosarus and went stomping
around the room.  ?Have you searched the area?  Is there any sign of
him??
     ?None,? said Adama.  ?We?ve sent reconnaissance, rescue crews,
repair crews to check the air-locks, everything we can think of....but
his craft was obliterated.  He couldn?t have survived it.?
     ?The debris pattern is consistent with a bomb,? Boomer added.
     Toth finally straightened her back, lifted her chin, and said
calmly, ?You must tell me everything you know.  If he has been murdered,
I will go on a Blood Hunt for his murderers!?
     ?You most assuredly will not!? Troy thundered.  ?We?re not going to
have any vigilante justice on this battlestar----we have plenty of our
own laws against killing people, just like the state of California, on
Earth.  If you want justice, just tell us who might have wanted him dead. 
If they?re on the Galactica, or any other ship in the fleet, for that
matter, we?ll get them.?
     ?If I knew who did it,? Toth answered, ?I would be there right now,
with my fingers around the bastard?s throat!?
     ?Then tell us what you do know,? said Adama. ?Did anybody threaten
Kar recently?  What was this trip back to the freighter Borella all
about??
     The Nomen shook her fists in frustration.  ?I don?t know why he was
going home. It could have something to do with the Nomen Council, his
mate, who knows?  He said he received a dispatch and was leaving on
personal business.  As for having enemies, you know that Kar has his
share.  He has a few right here on the battlestar, such as Sire Mollary. 
I would look first at that sniveling buritician if I were you.?
     ?He?s on our list,? Troy assured her.  ?But Mollary has had yahrens
to try to kill Kar, if that?s what he wanted to do.  That?s really not
his style.  Maybe it was somebody Kar recently met.  Did he have any new
associates?  Did he seem worried about anything??
     Toth wasn?t really listening. The true weight of what had happened
was finally descending upon her.  Kar was dead, and she would have to
devote the rest of her life to his Blood Hunt, the tracking down and
killing of his murderers.  These weak Colonials with their outraged sense
of justice were unimportant, not when Kar?s death must be avenged.
     ?Perhaps,? she said, ?it was bound to come to this.  On the
Galactica, Kar was too prominent and surrounded by too many enemies.  He
risked his life to promote equality for our people in Fleet society, and
this is what he got in return.?
     Adama cleared his throat.  ?Who else had access to his private
transport?  Try to help us here.?
     ?His private transport has been docked for months, unused.  Dozen of
maintenance people had access to it, and most of them were your people. 
He actually believed he was safe here.?  Toth snorted a derisive laugh. 
?Foolish man. He actually thought he was safe here.?
     Boomer moved toward Kar?s desk and picked up a data crystal that was
perilously close to falling off the edge.  She picked up the other data
crystals, too, and leafed through the pile of transparencies.
     ?Is this the way he left his desk?? asked the colonel.
     Toth shrugged.  ?Unfortunately, yes.  He left everything as you see
it.  Perhaps there is something useful here, but I worry that he was
lured by this message into a hasty departure.?
     Troy took an evidence bag from a pouch on his belt and opened it. 
?Colonel, could you please drop those crystals in here.  And the
transparencies.?
     As Boomer dropped the evidence into the bag, Troy told Toth, ?We?re
going to have to remove all his documents and seal off his quarters. 
Colonial Security will give you a receipt for his property, and I?ll give
it back to you after I?ve had a look.?
     ?It matters not,? answered Toth. ?What are the leavings of a dead
man but twigs on a dead tree??
     ?I feel terrible about this,? said Commander Adama. ?Allow me to
contact his next of kin on the Borella for you.?
     ?No,? snapped Toth.  ?I will do it. There are several matters I must
attend to right away.  I will be in my quarters.?
     Troy watched the woman square her shoulders and march out of the
room.  Toth?s reaction had been about what he?d expected----no tears, no
denial, no accusations, and not much help either----just pure anger. 
Some people might have considered Toth a suspect, but not him.  He knew
how much she admired Kar.
     ?She surely cannot be serious about going on a Blood Hunt,? said
Adama.
     ?Unfortunately, grandfather, she is serious,? said Troy.  ?Remember
the Blood Hunt she went on for Dust?  Toth nearly killed that woman with
her bare hands the moment she found her hiding in the steerage
compartments on the Rising Star.  That twisted Code of theirs is so
crucial to their very being.?
     The captain went over to a nearby telecommunicator, thumbed the
switch to activate it, and said, ?This is Captain Troy. I want a security
detail and a forensic team at Ambassador Kar?s quarters.  On the double.?
     ?Let?s put a moratorium on these frequent departures,? said Adama. 
?Unless there?s a Cylon attack, no ship will launch without my
permission.? 
     Boomer started to the door.  ?I?m on my way to the bridge.?
     The two men watched Boomer leaved, and Troy felt as if he were in
suspended animation.  His shock and grief had put him into a sort of
lethargy.  He knew they should be taking action, but they could do
nothing to bring Kar back to life.  That made every action seem
pointless.  Still, justice had to be served, whether one called it the
Blood Hunt or revenge.  If the perpetrator was still on the battlestar,
they had to open every hatch until they found him.
     ?I?ve got condolences and report to send,? said Adama. ?There will
have to be a shipboard announcement, then an IFB conference.  Don?t
worry, Troy, I?ll keep the media away from you.  You just press your
investigation.?
     ?Thanks, grandfather,? said Troy. 
     The commander strode out, and the Blue Squadron leader dropped the
bag of documents and data crystals onto Kar?s desk.  Looking for more
clues, he glanced around Kar?s quarters, which were almost Scorpian in
appearance, with heavy furnishings of dark metal and leather.  On the
walls hung embroidered tapestries of hunts and battle scenes, with
bloodstone standing in for the blood.  Troy turned his attention to the
desk drawers and added a few stationary items to his evidence bag.
     ?Krumst here, Captain.?  Troy looked up to see the security detail
he had called for.
     ?Ambassador Kar is dead,? the squadron leader reported simply.  ?His
ship exploded, and he was the only casualty.  I can?t give you any more
information than that.?  Troy frowned.  ?I?m worried about his aide,
Attache Toth.  She?s not a suspect, but she could be a victim.  And I
think she knows more than she?s telling us.  You and Krotelus go to
Toth?s quarters and keep an eye on her.  Tell her you?re just checking
in, to see if she needs anything.  If she goes anywhere, follow her and
advise me.?
     ?Yes, sir,? said Krumst.  He and a woman security officer hurried
down the corridor.
     Troy pointed to the two other security officers.  ?You seal off
these quarters and wait for the forensic team.  Except for them, nobody
is to go in or out.  All Nomen trying to leave the Galactica should be
held for questioning.
     ?Yes, sir.? The officers took positions on either side of the door.
     Troy thought about taking his bag of evidence to the laboratory, but
he wanted to view the data crystals first, and he had a viewer only a
metron away.  He reached into the bag and brought up a handful of data
crystals, which varied in shape and color.  Their connectors were exactly
the same, although they had different serial numbers and notations etched
upon them.
     That is, all but one had serial numbers and notations.  One data
crystal was so dark that it looked as if it had been irradiated, and it
had no identifying marks.  Slowly, he placed it into Kar?s viewer. 
     A female Nomen appeared on the screen, and she was breathtaking. 
She had on a clinging red dress that hugged her slender body. This
couldn?t be Kar?s mate, could it?  Troy dismissed that idea out of hand,
because if this was Kar?s mate, he wouldn?t have left her for months at a
time.
     ?Hello, Kar,? sneered the woman.  ?You recognize me, do you not?  I
am Mira, daughter of Rog.  I speak for my mother Het, and my brother,
Kog.  We are all that is left of the family you destroyed.  Yes, Kar, we
are beaten, and our titles and belongings are gone. Our father is dead,
his name disgraced, and his attempt to kill you from the grave was a
failure.  To our shame, every assassin has failed.?
     Troy grumbled a curse under his breath, because he had never heard
of any of these murder attempts.  The delectable Nomen got really angry
at that point and went on to threaten Kar?s life.  She vowed to go on a
Blood Hunt for him, as if they didn?t have enough of those going on. 
Well, thought Troy, this certainly qualified as a personal problem.
     When she pulled out a sword and sliced open her own ridge forehead,
Troy?s jaw flopped open.  The viewer blinked off at the same time that
the telecommunicator chimed.  Troy yanked the data crystal from the
viewer and put it in his uniform pants pocket before he answered it.
     ?Troy here.?
     ?Krumst,? came the reply.  ?We?ve got a problem, sir.  Attache Toth
is not in her quarters.?
     The squadron leader headed for the door. ?All right, find her. In
fact, I?m sending out a security alert. Detain all Nomen for
questioning!?

*************************************    

     Sire Mollary preened in front of his vanity mirror, shaping thick
strands of black hair into dagger-like spikes. They framed his rotund
face like the rays of the Naytarese sun.  He touched a manicured finger
to his tongue and ran the saliva over one unruly eyebrow, then he
adjusted his sash and the medals on his burgundy jacket.  He had to look
good tonight....it was a Fleet holiday!  Winter Solstice, they called it,
and he had no idea that solar astronomy was so popular in a convoy of
spaceships light-yahren away from any sun.  At a holiday commemorating
the sun, what could be better than having one?s hair look like the rays
of the sun?
     Mollary chuckled and took a sip of an amber liquid, which he was
drinking in honor of the Fleet?s fiesta.  Then he checked his purse to
see make sure he had all the cubits that he?d won the night before in the
Rising Star?s chancery.  But he didn?t plan to gamble too much, not when
the ladies were in a holiday spirit and there were plenty of exotic
refreshments to sample.  This beverage he now sipped with gusto, the one
that Dillon and Troy had brought back from Earth, called ?Budweiser,? or
?Bud,? convinced him that most Earth beverages must be sweetly innocent
in taste, yet more intoxicating than ambrosa in effect.  A perfect drink
with which to woo the ladies, he thought with another chuckle.
     Slapping his ample belly and thinking about his wonderful meal of
fritterfish brisket and Tarsian pudding, Mollary strode to the door.  He
began to hum a Caprican dance melody, thinking he might do some dancing
tonight, and he was still humming when he stepped into the corridor.  He
didn?t know there was someone waiting for him until the hand cupped his
mouth and the knife slipped under his double chin.
     ?Quiet,? commanded Toth.  ?Your life depends on it.?
     Mollary?s first instinct was to fight back, but the strong female
Nomen was thirty yahrens younger than he, and she had the advantage. 
Still, he couldn?t remain silent.  ?You daggit!? he sputtered through her
fingers.  ?What?s the matter with you??
     The knife point pricked his chin, and it felt as if he had cut
himself shaving.  ?Open the door,? she whispered.
     The buritician did as he was told, because he didn?t wish to be
slaughtered in the hallway, in front of all these brave Colonial
warriors.  If he was to die, at least let it be privately and with some
dignity.  He jabbed the button with his pointer finger and the door
slipped open.
     Toth guided him into his quarters, taking a glance down the hallway
to make sure they weren?t seen.  As soon as the door shut behind them,
she pressed the knife closer to his throat.
     ?What?s the matter with you?? he asked again in his peculiar accent. 
?If you need to go to this much trouble to kill me, just kill me and be
done with it!?
     She gripped his ornate collar and shook him.  ?You killed Kar,
didn?t you??
     He laughed at the absurdity of it.  ?Kill Kar?  Many times in my
dreams, but he?s still alive, isn?t he??  He stared at her wary eyes. 
?Do you mean Kar is dead??
     She glowered at him.  ?You don?t know anything about it, I suppose.?
     ?I swear I don?t!  How did it happen??
     ?Much more quickly than your death.?  Toth pressed the knife into
his throat.
     There came a door chime, followed by a banging on the door.  ?Sire
Mallory!? called Troy.  ?Are you in there??
     The buritician grinned at his attacker, showing a pair of sharp
canine teeth. ?Do you wish to be a fugitive or not?? he whispered to
Toth.
     She pulled back the knife and stuck it into her sheath.  ?I can?t
kill you without proof.  But if I ever find any proof....?
     ?It will be false,? claimed Mollary.  He straightened his jacket and
wiped a few beads of blood off his chin.  Then he went to his control
panel and opened the door.
     Troy rushed in, followed by two security officers clutching laser
rifles, and the captain didn?t look surprised to find Toth there.
     ?I thought you had things to do,? he said to the Nomen.
     ?This is one of them,? she answered.
     Mollary cleared his throat and loosened his collar.  ?I told her,
and I?ll tell you, Troy----I had nothing to do with Kar?s termination. In
fact, I just found out about it.?
     ?Yes, he was gunned down while walking to the Officer?s Club,? said
Troy.
     Mollary shivered.  ?Oooh, disgusting.  I hope it didn?t spoil your
Fleet holiday.?  Then the buritician thought about what he had just
heard.  ?You mean, the Nomen ambassador was shot down in plain view, like
a daggit, and you don?t know who did it?  Shame, shame, Troy.?
     Captain Troy looked sheepish.  ?That?s not really how he died.?
     ?Oh!? said Mollary with disappointment.  ?Now you?re playing games
with me, hoping to trip me up. It won?t work.  In this matter, I am as
dumb as you are!?
     Toth scowled.  ?If it wasn?t you, if it wasn?t one of our rivals,
then who was it??
     Mollary cocked his head, trying not to smile.  The idea of never
having to see Kar?s smirking face again did have its appeal.  But then,
there would probably be a new Nomen ambassador to the Council of Twelve,
one who might prove more unpleasant and pigheaded than Kar, if that was
possible.
     The buritician lowered his head.  ?Of course, I will relay my
condolences to the Borella, but I ought to wait until there has been
official confirmation.?
     Troy pointed toward the buritician?s desk.  ?Check your terminal in
a while, and there should be an announcement from Commander Adama.  He
scheduled a memorial service for Kar at 1800 centons tomorrow in the
theater in Gamma Section.  Don?t expect a lot of details about this....we
really don?t know what happened.  It may have been an accident.?
     Now Mollary permitted himself a smile.  ?I don?t think so.  A man
like Kar always dies badly.?
     Toth glared at him and her hand flew to the hilt of her knife. 
Mollary laughed.  ?Did you really think Kar would die of old age, in a
soft bed somewhere??
     ?No,? Toth admitted, letting her hand drop from the hilt of her
knife.
     ?I have sources of information among the people of the Fleet,? said
Mollary.  ?Permit me to go ship to ship and ask around, purely in the
interest of aiding Captain Troy.  Perhaps I can uncover some tidbit of
knowledge that has gone unnoticed.?
     ?Well, you?ll need to clear that with the commander, but I?m sure
he?ll give you permission to leave the Galactica, being a senior member
of the Council.  But watch yourself,? Troy cautioned.  ?We don?t want to
lose any more dignitaries.?
     That wiped the smile off Mollary?s face.  ?Thank you for spoiling my
evening.?
     ?Think nothing of it,? Troy turned to the Nomen attache.  ?Toth, I
think you?d better come with me.  I?ve got a few questions for you, based
on some new information.?
     Toth said nothing to apologize for the unprovoked attack on Mollary;
in fact, she glared at him for a moment before brushing past the security
officers.  Troy and the officers followed her out, and the door clamped
shut behind them.
     Sire Mollary heaved a worried sigh and poured himself another glass
of ?Budweiser.?  The death of any key figure in Fleet politics, even a
Nomen ambassador, was bound to create wounds that might take yahrens to
heal.  It could create rivalries among the ships of the fleet and perhaps
plunge some ships into a state of outright civil war.  The death of more
than one dignitary would result in the kind of chaos that would leave the
fleet and, most certainly, Earth open to Cylon attack and conquest.
     Mollary set down his ?Budweiser? glass and hurried to his
communications panel.  He pressed the panel and snapped, ?Vir!  Come to
my quarters immediately.?
     ?But, sire,? answered the voice of his portly servant, ?I thought we
had agreed to meet on the Rising Star, in the gambling chancery.? 
Mollary heard a shriek of laughter in the background.
     ?The fiesta is over for us.  We?ve got intelligence to gather.  I
take it you do not know that Kar is gone??
     ?Isn?t he here yet?? asked Vir, having a hard time coping with the
noise in the Rising Star?s chancery.  ?No, I haven?t seen him.?
     ?Never mind,? said Mollary. ?You?ll hear about it soon enough.  Take
a shuttle to the Galactica and come to my quarters, as I ordered.  And
look out for suspicious persons, especially suspicious Nomen persons. 
Good evening, Vir.?
     Hmmmm, thought Mollary with a wry smile, they suspect another Nomen.
˙But they hadn?t made any arrests or even admitted that it was murder, so
their case must be lacking.  He would help them, if he could, because he
didn?t want to feel any more Nomen blades at his throat.  On the other
hand, if this incident were to mushroom out of control and cause chaos on
the Borella, that could lead to the Borella?s people doing something
rash, like leaving the fleet and trying to hide on Earth, which might not
be such a bad thing.  It had always been his belief that the Fleet would
be better off without the Borellian Nomen.  
     Sire Mollary sipped his ?Budweiser? thoughtfully.

******************************

CHAPTER 3
TROY MAKES SOME NOMENS SWEAT

     ?I have things to do!? said Toth as she planted her feet firmly in
the center of the corridor and refused to budge.
     ?Like roughing up Sire Mollary,? said Troy.  ?If you really want to
find Kar?s murderer, you?ll make time to come with me.?
     She lowered her jaw slightly.  ?You know who did it??
     ?Let?s just say I?ve got a pretty good guess. Come on, the
commander?s waiting.?
     When Troy and Toth reached the commander?s office, Lt. Dillon was
just completing his report.  Basically, the repair crew, the rescue crew,
and the tech shuttle had uncovered a whole bunch of nothing.  There was
nothing wrong with the landing bay or the force-shield membrane, and
there was nothing left of the small craft and her pilot, except for a
billion particles scattered through space.  It would take days to gather
enough of these particles to analyze them, and Boomer had already
assigned crews to the task.
     All eyes turned to Troy, and he extracted the unmarked data crystal
from his pocket.  ?This is one of the crystals Kar left on his desk.  I
popped it into his viewer because it didn?t have any serial numbers or
markings on it.?
     ?I always clearly label our data crystals,? said Toth, bristling at
the idea that she would be such an inefficient administrator.
     ?I?m sure you do,? said Troy, ?but I don?t think you?ve seen this
crystal.  Grandfather, if I may??
     Adama nodded assent, and Troy activated the commander?s viewer
behind his desk and inserted the crystal.     He heard several intakes of
breath when the vibrant Nomen woman in the red gown appeared on the
screen.
     ?Hello, Kar,? she began.  ?You recognize me, do you not?  I am Mira,
daughter of Rog.  I speak for my mother, Het, and my brother, Kog.  We
are all that is left of the family you destroyed.?
     Toth slammed her fist on the back of Adama?s chair and cursed
colorfully.  Troy instantly paused the playback.
     ?I take it you know this woman?? asked Commander Adama.
     Toth?s lips trembled, whether from anger or sorrow it was hard to
tell.  ?I know what is coming next.?
     Troy resumed the playback, and the Nomen in the red dress swore the
Blood Hunt against the dead man.  She invoked the Prophets to allow her
to kill him with her own hands.  Troy didn?t warn them that she was about
to cut a gash in her own forehead, and there were more abrupt intakes of
breath.  The playback ended, leaving the room in silence.
     ?Charming,? said Dillon.
     Toth stalked to the door, and Troy headed her off.  ?After what?s
happened, I don?t want to make things hard for you, Toth, but I want you
to tell us everything you know.?
     The angry Nomen stared from one human to another, and Troy had a
terrible fear that she would smash his head and bolt for the door.
     Finally, Toth growled deep in her throat and began to pace Adama?s
tasteful office.  ?I had just arrived on the Galactica.  I had never met
Kar, but I was excited about my new position and eager to prove myself. 
At that time, Rog, her father, was dying.  As his dying wish, he hired an
assassin from the Thenta Society to come to the battlestar to kill Kar. 
To make sure that Kar suffered and knew why he was to die, Rog sent him a
message like that one, on a data crystal.?
     She laughed without humor.  ?In fact, Kar thought I was the
assassin!  What a fool Rog was, as his assassin would have succeeded
without the advance warning.?
     ?Why didn?t you tell us about this murder attempt?? said Troy.
     ?It was the time of the religious festival,? answered the Nomen,
?and you had your own problems. Besides, this was a private affair.  Kar
did cause grave wrong to the Rog family, and their Blood Hunt was
justified.  We managed to stop them the first time, but this time they
apparently.....? Toth bowed her majestic head, unable to finish the
thought.
     Commander Adama scowled.  ?So this is another Blood Hunt incident? 
I had heard the Nomen were barbarians, but vengeance killings and blood
feuds went out with the Era of Darkness!  They won?t be tolerated
anywhere in this fleet!?
     Toth said, ?Why don?t you tell that to Mira. She obviously doesn?t
know that rule.?
     Adama came out from behind his desk, letting his anger subside. 
?Listen to me, Toth, we?re all angry about this, and we all want to see
the killers brought to justice.  This message is almost a confession, but
we still lack proof.  But one thing I want to make clear----I won?t have
any more Blood Hunts in my fleet!?
     Toth moved her head from side to side, as if forcing her thick neck
muscles to relax.  She was still enraged, thought Troy, but now Kar?s
death made some kind of sense according to her view of the universe.  It
wasn?t inexplicable or random anymore....there was a face to it.
     ?The Rog family should be easy to find,? declared Toth, ?on the
Borella.  And guess where I am going.?
     ?We?re not letting any Nomen leave the Galactica,? warned Troy.
     Toth straightened.  ?I have diplomatic immunity. They can?t stop me,
can they, Adama??
     Adama shook his head.  ?No.  You and Kar can leave the Galactica
anytime.? The commander looked saddened for a moment when he realized
that he had used Kar?s name in the present tense.
     ?What exactly did Kar do to Rog?? asked Dillon.
     Toth?s shoulders slumped. ?It is not a pleasant story, and you won?t
think highly of my superior when you hear it.  After the first murder
attempt was foiled, Kar told me the truth as a reward for earning his
trust.  It began when he wanted to succeed to the Third Circle.?
     At Adama?s puzzled expression, she explained, ?You see, Nomen
society is highly regimented.  We have circles...what you call social
classes.  The Inner Circle is the tribal chieftain and all his extended
family.  The Second Circle is made up of our holy men and prophets, and
the Third Circle is the highest to which a common tribesman can aspire. 
As you can see, to aspire to the Third Circle is very ambitious, and Kar
was very ambitious.?
     Toth gazed at the blank viewer as if remembering a school lesson
from long ago.  ?There are a number of chairs in the Third Circle; the
number is always constant.  To be seated, a chair must be empty.?
     She glanced back at them.  ?Someone in the Third Circle died, and
there was a vacancy.  Kar and Rog vied for it, lobbying their friends and
allies.  Rog was the elder man, with more experience, but Kar was more
ruthless.
     ?During this time, there was a famous trial against a rebel chief
named Balshazar.  The tribunal had been hammering at him to know where he
had obtained certain weapons, and he knew he would be sentenced to death
no matter what he said.  One day out of nowhere, Balshazar said Rog had
sold him the weapons.  Although there was no evidence, a hue and cry went
up and Rog was ruined.  He was removed from the Council.
     ?After Balshazar was executed, Kar laid a substantial sum upon the
chief?s family and had them relocated to another ship for this little
favor.  Rog was stricken from the Nomen Roster, and Kar succeeded to the
Third Circle and had his choice of plum positions.  He chose to become
ambassador to the Council of Twelve.?
     ?Well and good,? said Adama, ?but it didn?t end there, obviously. 
Now, tell me: Is this woman, Mira, capable of carrying out her threat??
     Toth lowered her head and looked at the captain through hooded eyes. 
?Commander, the Blood Hunt is not an idle threat----it is a life?s
ambition, a goal for which you would gladly sacrifice your life.  I do
not know Mira, but I saw her draw the blood.  She had determined that the
most important thing in her life was to fulfill her Blood Hunt, and she
would do so or die.?
     Adama cleared his throat uneasily.  ?There were two more terms I
didn?t understand.  You said Rog hired the Thenta Society.  What is
that??
     ?A guild of professional assassins,? answered Toth. ?Expensive but
extremely reliable, under most circumstances.  We were lucky to foil them
the first time.?
     ?And what is the Vee-Tar she mentioned??
     ?The purpose in life.?  Toth lifted her chin.  ?Mira is saying there
is no higher purpose in life than to close in for the kill in a Blood
Hunt.  That is as it should be.?
     The commander shook his head.  ?If you wouldn?t mind, can you
explain a little more about how Nomen society works?  I must admit that
I?m at my wit?s end trying to understand all of this.?
     Toth said, ?Nomen social structure is very old, nearly as old as our
race itself.  When the first tylium miners came to Borella thousands of
yahrens ago from the Colonies, they made our ancestors all equal?slaves. 
They killed many in the Inner Circle, as you can imagine, because a
conqueror always kills the leaders first. We have learned that lesson
well.?
     Her jaw clenched tightly. ?I cannot tell you what it does to a
people....to have aliens from another world enslave you. It was the
defining moment in our history, because it made us the strong and
ruthless people we are today.  Children were hidden from the tylium
miners, papers were forged, and the bloodlines continued.  When we
overthrew the miners, and later interbred with them, we returned to our
old class system with a vengeance.  Only those in the Inner Circle can
govern, with the help of the Nomen Council.?
     Softly she added, ?Before the tylium miners came and turned our
fertile planet into a desert wasteland, we were farmers----simple people. 
If they hadn?t invaded, we would probably still be living in sod houses
and plowing fields.?
     ?Now you?re a race of desert nomads,? said Troy, ?and the Colonial
humans you?ve come to hate have been destroyed by their enemies.?
     Toth smiled.  ?Justice.?
     ?But must you continue these Blood Hunts?? asked Adama.  ?Borella
has been in Cylon hands for thirty yahrens now.  You have no other home
here but with us.  And when Earth can finally receive us, you?ll be
subject to their laws, the highest of which forbids murder in any form,
no matter what the justification may be.  Can?t you abolish that custom??
     She glared at the commander.  ?You haven?t understood a word I have
said.? With that, the Nomen shouldered her way past Troy and strode out
the door.
     The captain called after her, ?Let us handle it!?  She ignored him
and marched down the corridor.

****************************************

     When Toth started out, nobody could think of a reason to stop her.
     ?How soon can she leave?? asked Troy.  ?Are there any Nomen shuttles
in the launch bays??
     ?No,? said Adama, ?but there?s one docking tomorrow.  I didn?t get a
chance to tell you yet, but I talked to members of the Nomen Council. 
They don?t like our explanation for Kar?s death, or rather our lack of an
explanation.  They haven?t exactly accused us of negligence, but they
want to know how this could have happened. I offered to send a delegation
to answer questions and show them vidlogs, maintenance reports, whatever
pertains to the case.  That crystal should help....it makes clear that
this is probably a Nomen internal matter.?
     ?They?ll let her go,? said Dillon.
     Adama stiffened.  ?If this Mira person is off the Galactica and back
on the Borella, it?s out of our hands.  One more thing...there?s going to
be a big memorial service for Kar in the Great Hall, and that is the best
place for our delegation to start asking its questions.  Make sure you
take your dress uniforms.?
     Troy gulped.  ?I beg your pardon, Grandfather??
     ?You mean we?re the delegation?? said Dillon.
     Commander Adama managed an encouraging smile.  ?Why not?  Who knows
better about launch procedures, the bridge, and security procedures than
two of my best warriors.  Besides, Troy, you?re the one with the data
crystal.?
     ?The murderer may not have left the Galactica,? said Troy.
     Adama glanced at his wall monitors.  ?The Shanavas doesn?t dock for
almost twenty-four centons, so you have some time.  But get packed....you
will be on that shuttle when it leaves.?
     ?Bring your cold gear and your bathing trunks,? said Dillon.
     ?Why?? asked Troy.
     ?Well, you see Borella had a thin atmosphere, low humidity, and very
little air pressure. In some locations, temperatures could vary sixty
degrees in one day, between freezing cold and broiling hot.  The life
support systems on the Borella have been set to approximate these same
conditions.  By the way, ever seen a Nomen sweat??
     Troy shook his head. ?No.?
     ?Me neither,? said Dillon. 
     Troy grabbed the data crystal and headed to the door.  ?But I?m
going to make some Nomen sweat right now.?

***************************************

     The interior lights of the Borella glowed red, red as the Mega Sun,
meaning that the ship had gone into afternoon mode.  The internal
temperature of the freighter was presently in the upper forties in the
Celsion scale, Kar estimated.  Odd how he kept thinking in Colonial
terms....he must really try to get away from that blasted battlestar more
often.
     ?Good afternoon, Ambassador,? said an acolyte, passing him on the
catwalks stretching between the portside lodging decks on one side and
the starboard utility decks on the other side.  It was a metal catwalk,
enclosed against accidents, and it spanned a rugged depression of
steaming pipes, hoses, conduits and fuel bins about fifty meters below. 
Oh, how much it reminded him of the great Silence Canyon back on Borella. 
Thanks to the red lights, the pipes, hoses and conduits had a copper glow
to them.
     Kar nodded curtly to the acolyte.  Since he was one of the guest
lecturers at the sacred Nomen school, the Illuminated Path, it was rather
impertinent of the acolyte to address him at all.  He walked on, content
that the young man had felt his displeasure.  There were fewer people
than he imagined would be out on a day like this, but then he remembered
that it was Feastday.  Many of the acolytes had returned to their
lodgings and would not be coming back until the evening.  He would give
his first address that night at the faculty dinner.
     Two more acolytes entered the catwalk near the utility decks, and
they humbly lowered their heads as they walked toward him.  Seeing the
acolytes dressed in their crude, unadorned robes reminded him of when he
had studied for the Eighth Circle.  He remembered it as an austere time
of life, full of discipline and study.  Still, he made valuable contacts
in the Path, contacts which served him well once he reached the Eighth
Circle.  After that, there was no formal training as one moved up the
ranks, just hard work, self-discipline, and ambition. Always ambition. 
Perhaps a little luck was useful, but Kar had always felt that a person
should create his own luck.
     He took a deep breath, not minding at all that it included the odors
of tylium, lubricants, and various hydraulic fluids that wafted up from
the steaming pipes below.  Ah, it was good to be alive and back in a
simpler place.  For such a gigantic warship, the Galactica could be so
claustrophobic at times.  The hatchway that led to the utilities decks
was coming into view, and it was gilded with gold and encrusted with
gemstones.  He quickened his pace, because he was slightly late for an
appointment with the regent.
     The two acolytes were coming closer now, and the catwalk wasn?t
really intended for more than two people to walk abreast.  To Kar?s
approval, the acolytes formed a single file and melted against the metal
meshing, allowing the ambassador to pass.  He gave them an approving
smile as he walked by.
     One of them moved a hair too abruptly, which caught his attention,
and Kar?s peripheral vision caught the other one lifting his arm.  Kar?s
brain told him to duck, and he did so before the laser boles could strike
his body.  They exploded harmlessly on impact with the meshing.  He
whirled around to catch the arm of the second assailant, and a small hand
weapon clattered to the walkway.
     The two of them were frightened now, and their panic betrayed them. 
The unarmed man froze, and the other one retrieved his laser boles,
reassembled them, and aimed them at the ambassador?s chest.  The old
defense training came back, and Kar gripped the man?s bole hand and
snapped the small bones of his wrist, eliciting a yelp of pain.  The
unarmed man finally dove for the gun on the walkway, but he was too late. 
Kar lashed out with his foot and sent the weapon sailing, then he threw
the attacker with the broken wrist on top of the other. The would-be
assassins sprawled on the walkway like helpless infants.
     ?Infidels!? he spit at them.
     He was looking forward to permanently crippling them when their
accomplices reacted.  From somewhere among the giant fuel tanks below
came a familiar pop.  The blast from the photon mortar hit the catwalk
and warped its molecular structure, and the floor literally melted
beneath Kar.  He dropped through a hole up to his waist, hanging
desperately to singed metal, his legs dangling in space.
     This gave his foes on the catwalk another opportunity. The one with
the broken wrist was still howling in pain, but the other one snatched up
the laser boles.  Grinning with pleasure, he was about to hurl them at
Kar, when the pop sounded again.  The sniper had picked the wrong target,
however, and a wavering beam ripped through the man with the broken
wrist, turning him into a smoldering pulp.
     This indiscriminate killing spooked the man with the laser boles,
and he leaped over Kar and ran toward the hatch.  Struggling frantically,
Kar managed to extricate his legs from the hole.  He had just regained
his feet when another photon blast severed the walkway behind him.  The
stressed metal groaned ominously, and Kar was pitched backward.  He
clawed for a handhold, but the dead man rolled on top of him.  Kar
screamed in horror as the lifeless form careened into space and dropped
through the pipes and hoses below with barely a sound.
     Kar lost his grip and started to fall.  The jungle of hoses swirled
beneath him....
     With a shriek, he bolted upright on a dirty cot.  Confused and
disoriented, the Nomen gaped at his surroundings, which looked like a
filthy ship?s compartment, one that had not seen any use in yahrens and
yahrens, adorned with old tablecloths.  The smell was some atrocious
mixture of curry and ground aryx horn.  He nearly gagged, but at least he
realized that he had only been dreaming.
     An old Nomen poked his head through the curtain that apparently
served as the cabin?s doorway.  ?Will you be quiet! Even in Down Below,
these burned-out old veterans can recognize your voice.?
     ?Sorry,? he whispered, rubbing his eyes.  ?I forgot where I was. 
Had a bad dream, too.  What time is it??
     ?Just after midnight,? said the old Nomen, whose name was Paba.  He
was one of Kar?s operatives, stationed in Down Below to gather
information.  From nearby came the sound of drunken voices, and the old
man slipped inside the ancient compartment.  ?You?ve got only fourteen
centons to go.  Don?t start panicking on me, or you?ll get us both
killed.?
     ?I didn?t panic,? Kar looked down.  ?I was dreaming, that?s all.  I
was reliving a terrible experience that actually happened to me.?
     ?We have no control over dreams like that,? admitted the old Nomen. 
?The Prophets send those dreams, to keep us alert.?
     ?Well, they did a good job,? said Kar. ?I?m as nervous as a pitlox
on Feastday.? He stood up, wiping the sleep dust out of his eyes, only to
groan and slump back into his cot.
     He checked his timepiece and found that it was night, or what passed
for night on the Battlestar Galactica.  ?I don?t know if I can stand this
for fourteen centons more.?
     ?It was your idea,? said Paba. ?Although I can?t understand whatever
gave you the idea to pretend to be dead.  You must be in considerable
trouble.
     Even dressed in the ragged remains of a Colonial Warrior?s uniform,
the ambassador had a regal gaze.  ?I pay you to do my bidding, and my
reasons are none of your concern.  You just make sure I am safe.?
     Paba chuckled.  ?How much safer can you be?  You are dead.? The old
man scooted out the door and tied the flap behind him.
     Kar moaned and lay back on his cot.  He might as well sleep, for
there was nothing else to do in the dismal compartment.  But sleep didn?t
sound appetizing after that horrible dream, which was all the more
horrifying because it had been real.  He couldn?t remember what had
happened to him after he lost his grip on the catwalk and fell into the
hoses, but he had woken up in the Life Station, with only a concussion
and superficial wounds to show for all the mayhem.  To avoid having
anyone prey into the past, he had hushed up the attack and returned to
the Galactica without saying anything to anyone, including Toth. The
assassins had escaped, and the dead man had never been identified.
     But Kar didn?t need to be told who they were or who had hired them. 
It was the Rog family. They had become unhinged!  After engineering two
attempts on his life with paid assassins, now they had gone on a Blood
Hunt and were coming after him themselves.
     Had they no respect for his rank and position?  He supposed not,
since he had destroyed their father to get his rank.  That desperate act
had troubled him more than once over the yahrens, but he had always
thought it would fade from importance with the passage of time.  His
crime had not been ambition....Rog was just as ambitious as he....his
crime had been impatience.  He could have let Rog have that chair in the
Third Circle while he bided his time.  Another vacancy had recently come
open, and he would have gotten it, with his wife?s help.  But then Rog,
or someone else, would have become ambassador to the Council of Twelve.
The last few yahrens of his life would have been radically different.
     Kar snorted. Considering his present circumstances....hiding out in
the veterans? slum of Down Below, pretending to be dead....changing the
past didn?t sound like a bad idea.  It just couldn?t be done.  Kar?s only
choice was to change the future to kill the remnants of the Rog family
before they killed him.  He had taken a chance leaving the data crystal
behind, but he wanted to leave some record......in the hands of the
Colonial warriors....in case genuine death was imminent.
     He felt movement on his skin, and he opened his eyes to see a
six-legged leatherwing scuttling across his wrist. He caught it in his
hand and studied the squirming insect for a moment.
     ?I am Kar of the Third Circle,? he told the bug.  ?Who are you to
annoy me??
     When the leatherwing failed to answer, he squashed it, pretending
that it was Mira, daughter of Rog.

********************************

CHAPTER 4
BREAKFAST

     The alarm went off, and Dillon, like all the other warriors in Blue
Squadron?s quarters, jumped up as if they?d been bitten by an annoying
crawlon.
     He stared bleary-eyed into space, wondering if it would be possible
to grab an extra forty winks.  Then he remembered....he had a full shift
of work ahead of him, particularly the visit to the Borella, which would
probably last a sectan, maybe two, depending on how long the
investigation took.
     How much blame would the Nomen leaders place on the Galactican
warriors for this tragedy?  They would certainly hold Boomer responsible,
because the murder----or accident, in the unlikely event it turned out to
be an accident----had happened on his watch; had happened within his
sphere of control, the communications link between the bridge and the
launch bays.  Was there anything anyone could have done to prevent it? 
In hindsight, it was easy to say that they should have prevented Kar from
taking off on a long trip in a solo craft, but what could they have done
to stop him?
     Kar?s transport had sat idle for sectons, and there was no way of
knowing when it had been sabotaged.  It was clear from the story about
Rog that Kar had been courting disaster.  Even his most trusted
subordinate had admitted that he deserved to be killed for what he had
done to Rog.  Vengeance was a strong emotion, as Dillon knew from
firsthand experience.  If he had been raised in a culture that honored
revenge killing, he might have hunted down those responsible for his
mother?s death.
     He dragged himself out of bed and poured himself a cup of java out
of the corner java pot.  It was important, he decided, to win back Toth?s
trust.  In all likelihood, the Nomen attache would be on the same shuttle
with him and Troy, and they would desperately need a guide on the
Borella, somebody they could trust.  He glanced at the wall chronometer
and saw that he had a centon and a half before the start of his duties.  
     Dillon walked over to the telecommunicator and touched the proper
sequence of numbers to put him in touch with the ambassador?s
subordinate.  ?I would like Attache Toth?s quarters.?
     To his surprise, the strong-willed Nomen answered, ?Toth speaking.?
     ?Toth?  This is Dillon,? he said quickly.  ?Look, I know we were
kinda rough on you yesterday, and I would like the opportunity to make it
up to you.  Could I buy you breakfast?  I promise not to dissuade you
from your Blood Hunt.?
     She held her breath during the long pause that followed. ?I
suppose,? said Toth warily.
     ?Shall we meet in the Mess Hall? Say, in twenty mili-centons??
     ?Very well.?
     He found Toth waiting for him in the busy Mess Hall, and the Nomen
attache was tapping her knife against her glass impatiently as Dillon
approached.
     ?You are two mili-centons late,? she said.
     ?Sorry.?  Dillon slipped into his chair.  ?Colonel made a flash
inspection of the squadron quarters.  What are you eating, by the way??
     Toth nodded.  ?Broiled smeck.  It was the most expensive item on the
breakfast menu.?
     ?Oh, I love broiled smeck,? said the lieutenant without hesitation. 
?Think I?ll go get me some.?  He picked up a tray, went to the chef?s
counter, and requested broiled smeck,  a sunfruit, and some more java.
     ?What did you want to see me about?? asked Toth.  ?It wasn?t really
to make up for yesterday.?
     ?As a matter of fact, it was,? said the lieutenant.  ?You?ve got to
understand that humans are a very guilt-ridden species.  We feel guilty
all the time, about everything.  Since Kar died outside our battlestar,
we feel it?s our responsibility. Troy and the others are turning the
Galactica upside-down looking for Mira.?
     Toth lifted her ridged head and regarded the human with piercing
hazelnut eyes.  ?He needn?t bother.  Kar was a Nomen, and his murderers
were Nomen.  He brought the Blood Hunt onto himself through his actions. 
You need feel no guilt, nor do you need to do anything, except stay out
of our affairs.  Our society will not punish his murderers if they were
fulfilling the Blood Hunt.  You must know that if you expect to come with
me to the Borella.?	
     Dillon blinked at the Nomen, marveling at how quickly she?d gotten
to the point of the meeting.  ?You don?t mind that Troy and I are going
with you??
     ?If your purpose is to honor the memory of Kar, how could I mind? 
If your purpose is to deprive me of my Blood Hunt, I mind a great deal. 
This will not be easy for me, because I will be accused of negligence in
letting Kar die.?
     ?That?s hardly fair.?
     ?Fair or not,? said the Nomen, ?an attache is also a bodyguard. 
That is one reason why my Blood Hunt is so important to me.  I am shamed
by his murder.?
     ?Now who?s the one feeling guilty?? asked Dillon.
     ?I am,? admitted Toth.  The man and woman ate in silence.

*************************************

     In a decrepit compartment in the depths of Down Below, the dead man
washed his face in a shallow pan of grimy water.  He had never realized
what Paba had to go through to live down here....he would have to give
the man more cubits.
     He took a ragged bit of cloth and dried his chin and brow.  This
banishment to Down Below would be over mercifully soon, he told himself,
and he would be safely aboard the Shanavas, headed back to the Borella. 
He would arrive in disguise and attend to his business with the Rog
family, ending it once and for all.
     There was another commotion outside in the grimy corridor, but he
had learned to ignore the drunken brawls that typified life in Down
Below.  He had occasionally ventured down here for amusement, but he
would never come here again, if he could help it.  The shouts grew louder
outside the compartment, and he nearly threw open the flap to order them
to be quiet.  No, he cautioned himself, this was not the time to be
assertive.
     Suddenly, the flap flew open, and Paba skulked in, looking
distraught.  ?You must hide!? he hissed.
     ?Hide?? growled Kar.  He glanced around at the dismal shack.  ?But I
am hiding!?
     ?It?s Troy!? warned the older man, glancing over his shoulder.  ?His
warriors are making another sweep, looking for your killers.  We caused a
disturbance to delay them, but they are searching everywhere!?
     Kar grabbed his laser pistol and looked around.  There was no rear
door to the pathetic compartment, and no place to run even if he got out. 
He climbed back into the cot and clutched the weapon to his chest.
     ?Throw the blanket over me,? he ordered.  ?Tell them I am sick.?
     They both jumped when a fist pounded on the metal wall.  ?Excuse
me,? barked a voice, ?are there Nomen living in there??
     ?I am coming!? called Paba.  He threw the blanket over Kar, who
turned his back to the door.  Trembling with fear, the older Nomen
scurried out.
     Kar could hear their conversation.  ?Sorry to bother you,? began the
warrior, ?but we?re looking for undocumented Nomen in connection with
Ambassador Kar?s death.  Are you authorized to be on the Galactica??
     ?I should be,? said the Nomen.  ?My name is Paba.  I came aboard to
visit some of my warrior friends a yahren ago.  I lost all my cubits to
them in a game of pyramid, and now I?m stuck here.  You couldn?t help me
get off, could you??
     ??Fraid not.  Can I see your identicard, please.?
     Kar suffered a few tense moments while the officer presumably
checked Paba?s identicard on his handheld terminal.  ?Yes, I?ve got you
listed,? he agreed.  ?Any other Nomen in there??
     Careful, Kar thought in panic.  The wrong answer could be
disastrous.  But what was the right answer?
     ?Only my brother is here,? said Paba loudly.  ?He is very sick.?
     ?I?ll have to see him,? insisted the warrior.  ?I?ll just take a
look inside and check his identicard.  Excuse me.?
     Kar kept his back to the doorway, wondering if he could possibly be
lucky enough to encounter a Colonial warrior who didn?t know him on
sight.  Probably not.  As the only Nomen ambassador on the battlestar, he
wasn?t exactly an unknown quantity.  He could feel his heart pounding as
the warrior shuffled through the flap.
     ?Excuse me,? he said, ?we?re looking for undocumented Nomen in
connection with Ambassador Kar?s death.  Are you authorized to be on the
Galactica??
     Kar coughed and wheezed and tried to sound very sick.  He pulled the
blanket tighter around his broad shoulders with one hand and gripped his
laser pistol with the other.
     ?Did you hear what I said?? insisted the officer.  ?I need your name
and your identicard.?
     ?Moc,? wheezed Kar.  From his waistcoat he pulled out his fake
identicard and tossed it onto the floor behind him.
     ?Thank you,? said the officer sarcastically.  Kar could envision him
bending down to retrieve the card, then running it through his machine. 
Kar had no problem feigning labored breathing during the moments that
followed.
     ?You are authorized to be here,? said the officer. ? But I have to
see you to make positive identification.  Turn over, please.?
     That, decided Kar, he could not do.  He cursed himself....why hadn?t
he donned his disguise earlier?  It was too late now, and this young
warrior had put himself squarely in the way.
     ?I don?t wish to vomit all over you!? croaked Kar. ?I have a
virus....a potent one!  It is liquefying my intestines.  It would kill a
human in a day or two!?
     The officer went for his communicator to call for instructions, just
as Paba crept up behind him and smashed a crowbar on the back of his
skull.  The officer crumpled to the grimy floor in a tan heap.
     ?I hope you didn?t kill him,? said Kar, rolling to his feet.  He
bent down and retrieved his fake identicard from under the officer?s
nose.  Warm moisture on the card revealed that the officer was still
breathing.
     ?We?ll have to kill him, won?t we?? asked Paba.

     ?No,? snapped the ambassador.  ?This matter is not his concern. His
death would dishonor my actions even further. Besides, I have to come
back to the Galactica someday, after I step forward and admit to this
deception.?
     Kar brought the left heel of his boot down upon the officer?s
handheld terminal, smashing the case and grinding the chips into silicon. 
Then he bent down and ripped the communicator off the back of the man?s
belt and thrust it into the trembling hands of the old Nomen.
     ?Take his communicator away from here, so they can?t trace him by
it,? ordered Kar.  ?While you?re at it, you had better keep going, Paba. 
Clean yourself up and get off this battlestar on the first public
transport.?
     ?We?re just going to leave him here?? gasped Paba.
     Kar scowled.  ?If you want to carry him out, by my guest.?
     The old Nomen gulped, stuck the communicator into his pocket, and
scurried out.  Kar turned his attention to the unfortunate Colonial
warrior sprawled on the floor and said, ?Your captain, Troy , is very
thorough.  I must remember that.?
     The Nomen began to undress, replacing the disgusting rags Paba had
provide him with the humble robe of an acolyte.  The choice of the
acolyte had been his, in memory of the deceit employed against him by the
assassins on the Borella.
     From the pocket of his robe, Kar produced a mirror and the most
important piece of his disguise----the forehead cap.  The thin layer of
or artificial skin covered his entire forehead and matched his skin tone
perfectly except for one thing....the brow ridges were completely
different.  Where his natural brow ridge had had thick bushy black
eyebrows, the forehead cap had eyebrows that was so thin they were barely
even there.  It was surprising how much the appliance changed a Nomen?s
appearance, and he supposed it was like a human exchanging ebony hair for
golden hair.
     Then he applied another piece of his disguise, the contact lenses
that turned his eyes from their usual vibrant green to a cool blue.  A
Nomen who met him would think that his eyes were quite unusual, but tests
had shown that the effect of brown eyes on humans was just the opposite. 
They perceived a face that was bland and friendly, a forgettable face,
much like one of their own.  The final part of his disguise was an
attitude adjustment....instead of his usual arrogance and bluster there
would be a subservient timidity that required his head be lowered most of
the time.
     Kar jumped when a groan issued from the floor.  Without a moment?s
hesitation, he scooped his old clothes off the floor and threw them into
a cloth bag.  He checked to make sure he had the proper identicard and
the proper attitude as he lowered his head and ducked through the flap
hanging in the doorway.

***************************************

CHAPTER 5
REQUIEM  FOR  AN AMBASSADOR

     ?Sergeant Blitz does not respond,? came Krumst?s report from the
Epsilon sector of Down Below.
     ?What?? answered Troy into his communicator.  Some shell-shocked
derelict in an access duct overhead was hollering just to hear the echo,
a phenomenon when a person consumed too much brain crystal.  Everyone had
shouted at the guy to be quiet, to no avail, and now two of his warriors
were on their way to grab him and take him to the Life Station. This
interruption had slowed down Troy?s search through the Beta sector of
Down Below, putting him in an even worse mood.  He was dreading all the
diplomatic schmoozing he would have to be doing in a couple of hours,a nd
he could barely hear himself worry.
     ?I said, ?Sergeant Blitz does not respond?!? shouted Krumst. ?He was
working a corridor alone, and now he?s just disappeared.  We?re trying to
trace his link, but it?s not where it should be.  I?d like permission to
give up the search for Nomen to search for Blitz.  We may need to do a
compartment-to-compartment.?
     ?Permission granted,? answered Troy.  He winced at the howling that
reverberated over his head.  ?We?re stalled here, too, so I?m coming over
there.  Troy out!?
     He turned to his warriors in Beta sector and yelled, ?As soon as you
get him quiet, keep checking Nomen until you?re relieved, or you hear
from me. I?ll be in Epsilon sector.?
     The captain jogged to get away from the din, but he didn?t find it
any quieter in the connecting corridor.  The explosion of Kar?s ship and
the rousting of those Nomen who had illegally stowed away on the
Galactica to hide from Blood Hunts had unleashed a kind of resentment in
the bowels of Down Below.  There was some incidental ranting about
heavy-handed warriors, and one old man, who claimed to have been the
Galactica?s master-tech during the Siege of Osurmy nearly one-hundred
yahrens ago, glared at him.  None of the former Colonial warriors looked
as if they particularly wanted to see him.
     With a start, Troy realized that this might not be the best time to
be wandering alone through Down Below.  Blitz was missing and not
responding, and he had been working alone, too.  The captain didn?t make
a big deal about it, but he slowed down his pace long enough to give
every doorway, corridor, and ?burn-out? a thorough inspection before he
drew close.  His hand dangled near the laser gun on his belt.
     He was beginning to get the feeling that somebody in this collection
of military dropouts knew something about Kar?s death.  something was
hidden down here, as it usually was.  Troy tried to concentrate on Mira,
the Nomen in the blood-soaked dress.  She was the key.  Could she be
brazen enough to sneak onto the Galactica and use Down Below as her base
of operations?  To kill an ambassador, you would need a place like this
to wait, to bide your time.  Hades, everybody in Down Below was biding
their time, and the cost of living was low.  The cost of dying was also
low, and she could hire accomplices if she needed them.
     There was just one thing wrong with this theory. Mira was a rather
striking-looking woman, and Nomen were completely rare in Down Below,
usually preferring not to mingle with the other Colonists anywhere in the
fleet, let alone the Galactica.  She wouldn?t blend in easily.
     Troy?s attention was snagged by a Nomen male skirting the other side
of the corridor; he was wearing a cloak that looked as if it were made
out of burlap.  The man?s head was lowered respectfully, and he moved
slowly, as with age.  Troy got the distinct impression that he knew the
Nomen, so he permitted himself a closer look and wondered whether he
should take the time to identify the man and check his identicard.  The
Nomen glanced briefly at him then lowered his head, and Troy realized
that he didn?t know him.  In fact, he seemed a harmless sort, probably
some kind of monk.  Well, Troy mused, Down Below was a good place to live
out a vow of poverty.  He let the Nomen go without hassling.
     His communicator buzzed, and he fished it out of his utility belt. 
?Troy here.?
     ?This is Krumst,? came the familiar voice.  ?We found Blitz?s
communicator in a really foul turbo-flush, but he?s not in there.  We?re
breaking up to go compartment-to-compartment now.  There are a lot of
boiler rooms and vacant chambers around here.?
     ?Buddy system,? said Troy, glancing around at sullen stares.  ?No
more singles.  I?ll be there in five mili-centons.?
     Troy signed off and continued his wary stroll through the byways of
Down Below.  The security chief knew these mean corridors as well as
anyone, and he kept to the best-lit routes, the ones closest to the exits
and turbolifts.  He couldn?t help but feel that time was getting away
from him in this investigation.  His instincts told him to clamp down,
but he had to dash off to the Borella----to turn the case over to them,
knowing they wouldn?t do a damn thing with it.  He looked around at the
squalor and knew that it wasn?t doing his mood any good.  It was time to
turn the grunge work over to his warriors and start doing his packing.
     He veered toward an exit when his communicator buzzed.  ?This is
Troy.?
     ?We?ve found Blitz,? said Krumst with relief.  ?He?s out cold, and
he may have a cracked skull....but he?s breathing.  Some med-techs are on
their way down.  We got lucky with a tip from some kids, and we found him
knocked cold in a compartment.
     ?Question those kids,? ordered Troy.  ?What exactly did they see? 
Who went into the compartment with him??
     ?We can?t find them,? said Krumst apologetically.  ?They yelled down
from the top of a balcony, pointed out the compartment, then ran off. 
We?ve been looking everywhere for them, but they?re gone.  At least we
have Blitz.  Want us to break off and look for those kids??
     Troy stopped, thinking that he was just firing his turbos no matter
what direction he ran in.  ?No, just concentrate on the Nomen.  Ask them
if they?ve seen an attractive female Nomen.?
     ?With pleasure,? said Krumst, a little too cheerfully.  ?But we?ll
keep looking for the kids, or anyone else who might?ve seen what happened
to Blitz.  Krumst out.?
     Troy rubbed his eyes, wondering what in Hades he could have been
thinking.  If the secret was in Down Below, they would never find it,
anyway.  This place was a magnetic void.  People, information,
contraband?they just sank into the muck and were never seen again. 
Better admit it, thought Troy, if anybody was going to find the murderer,
it wouldn?t be he; he was going to leave the Galactica for a few days and
be out of the loop.
     He pushed the exit door open and headed up a ramp.  As he walked, he
tapped his communicator again.  ?Could I have Talia?s quarters??
     Luck was with him, and he caught the resident civilian telepath on
the first try. ?This is Talia.?
     ?Hi, this is Captain Troy.  I?ve got a favor to ask.?
     ?Ask away,? she said. ?With Kar dead, nobody?s in much of a mood to
conduct business.  What happened to him??
     ?That?s what we?re trying to find out.  Could I call you later to do
a scan on one of my men?  Flight Sergeant Blitz. Something  happened to
him in Down Below, and he may need help remembering.?
     ?I plan to stay close to home,? promised Talia. ?The only place I?m
going is to Kar?s memorial service.?
     ?Can?t forget about that,? said Troy, snapping his fingers.  ?I?ll
call you as soon as I get a report on Blitz.  The medtechs are just
getting to him....he?s not even conscious yet.?
     ?I?ll be waiting,? said the telepath.
     Troy signed off and headed to his quarters to start packing.

*************************************

     Lt. Dillon checked his uniform in the mirror of the Blue Squadron?s
quarters, content that it was straight as it was going to be.  He
couldn?t guess how the Nomen delegation from the Shanavas would react to
the news that Kar had been murdered, complete with self-incriminating
suspects but no one in custody.  Would they shrug? Would they go on
murderous genocidal rampages through every ship in the Fleet?  He had to
be prepared to be diplomatic whatever their reaction.
     A shadow fell over him, and he turned to see Sire Mollary strolling
to his side.  He was smiling, although his black uniform was rather
reserved and funereal, even if it did look like a braided tuxedo.  ?Good
afternoon,? he said.  ?Mind if I accompany you, Lieutenant??
     ?No, Sire, although I don?t know if I?ll be great company.  I?m not
looking forward to this memorial service, or the next one.?
     ?I should say not.?  Mollary?s smile dimmed only slightly.  ?I heard
you were going to the Borella.  Good luck on that miserable bucket of
bolts.  It?s such a dismal ship.?
     ?Yes, well, it?ll only be for a few days,? he answered.  A few
pointless days, he almost added.
     ?But you do have a suspect,? Mollary said matter-of-factly.
     Dillon glanced at the buritician and his thick crown of ebony hair. 
Was he fishing for information, or was this common knowledge by now? 
Maybe he would fish back.
     ?Who do you think killed him?? he asked.
     Mollary shrugged.  ?It wasn?t any of my colleagues.  To be honest, I
doubt very seriously his murderer was even a Colonist.  More than likely,
it was one of his own kind.  You know how volatile they are.  If you
commit even the slightest sin against them, they hunt you down and kill
you.  All these yahrens they?ve traveled with us, and we still haven?t
learned that the Nomen are beasts.  They belong on Earth----with the rest
of the primitive daggit waste!?
     He wasn?t about to reply to that slur.  A Nomen would have argued
that humans were a hundred times more brutal, almost as bad as Cylons. 
It did seem as if Mollary had found out or guessed at the motive behind
Kar?s murder.  But on this day, hearing him dump on Kar and his race was
more than he could handle.
     ?Why are you bothering to come?? he asked.
     ?Why, my dear lieutenant,? he said, feigning shock, ?I am speaking
at the memorial service.  Both myself and Siress Delenn have volunteered
to speak about the ambassador, and Commander Adama has agreed.  You
needn?t worry....during this somber occasion, I won?t sully his
reputation with the truth.?
     Dillon turned away from the ambassador, annoyed at his jovial good
humor.  It seemed that at every funeral he had ever attended, there was
always somebody in a good mood.  He darted ahead of him into the corridor
toward a nearby turbolift.  Glancing at his wrist chronometer, Dillon
realized he would arrive on Landing Bay Alpha in plenty of time to meet
the Shanavas, so he contented himself to watch the girders and floor
entryways whiz by.   Mollary respected his silence and said nothing
during the high-speed descent to the Galactica?s port-side landing bay.
     To his relief, he was frowning gravely as they stepped off the car
and made their way through a throng of people clustered around the
docking bay.  Wordlessly, Dillon and Mollary took their positions among
the other dignitaries, which included Siress Delenn, President of the
Council of Twelve, Sire Lennier, Toth, Dr. Franklin, and representatives
from the other two-hundred twenty ships in the Fleet.   Dr. Zee and
Boomer were conspicuously absent, as was Troy.  Commander Adama gave him
a brief nod and a pained smile.  It was a full day after the tragic
event, and the commander still looked stunned.
     Life never seems so fragile, thought Dillon, as when a vibrant
person like Kar suddenly disappears from this plane of existence.  One
moment he is here...an unpredictable, exasperating force in the
universe...and the next moment he is gone.  Dillon resolved to say a
short prayer for Kar, perhaps during the ride to the Borella, and to
honor him by lighting a candle.  He wiped his eye, unable to fathom how
all this grief could bring any peace to the broken Rog family.
     He spied Troy dashing across the tarmac, straightening his cape and
adjusting the necklace, both of which made up a warrior?s standard dress
uniform.  Before he could get his attention, he heard fading whine of
turbos and turned to look at the source of the sound: a petite, evilly
shocking spaceship, with both cockpit and engines set at the ship's bow
and, overall, shaped appealingly like a manta ray, coming in for a
landing.  There was a whooshing sound and four Nomen strode out of the
their shuttle?s airlock and down the ramp.  Their heavy boots tramped
along the ramp like syncopated drums.  The two men and two women were
dressed in traditional Borellian costumes, and their somber faces matched
everyone else?s.
     They saluted Toth with a fist to the chest, then they bowed stiffly
to Commander Adama.  Troy glided his way through the crowd to get closer
to his grandfather.  He was bound to want to introduce him early on in
the proceedings.
     ?And here he is,? said Adama with relief, ?my strike commander and
grandson, Captain Troy.?  He nodded and met their eyes.  Nomen, like
humans, were one of the few races who liked eye-to-eye contact,
especially upon introductions.  Considering the circumstances, he didn?t
smile.
     ?Greetings,? said the tallest Nomen, who had a cadaverous
hatchet-face profile.  ?I am Tok, of the Fourth Circle.  And here is my
mate and personal pilot, Tar.?  A husky woman nodded curtly at them. 
?Our tribal attache, Gur, and my mechanic, Kol.? He motioned to an older
pair of Nomen, female and male, respectively.  There was a flurry of
introductions as the four Nomen met Mollary, Dr. Franklin, Lennier and
Delenn.
     The Nomen blinked curiously at the diminutive president of the
Council of Twelve.  ?What I heard about you is true,? marveled Tok,
reaching out to touch Delenn?s streaked hair.  His fingers stopped and
trembled. 
     Delenn nodded sympathetically.  ?Every day, we humans find we have
more in common with non-humans than we think.  Today, we share your
grief.?
     ?Yes,? said Tok.  ?Commander Adama, we haven?t received many details
about this incident.  Could we go somewhere to talk??
     ?I was just about to suggest that.?  Adama mustered a polite smile. 
?Before the memorial service, we?re having a reception in the Great Hall,
on Theta deck.  President Delenn will be happy to show your party to the
reception, and you can come with me, Commander, for a briefing.?
     ?I insist upon going with you!? said Attache Gur.  The older woman
had seemed the grandmotherly type until her sharp voice cut through the
murmur.
     Adama smiled uneasily.  ?Very well.  My office is this way.?  He
pointed into the crowd and it magically parted, helped by the Galactican
warriors.  When the smaller party of two Colonials and three Nomen headed
for the turbolift, Delenn rustled through the crowd in her silken robe,
and the larger contingent followed her to the free food.
     Nobody noticed a hunched Nomen in a simple cloak who walked up the
ramp and mingled with the crew of the Shanavas.

*************************************


     In Adama?s office, they stood in silence as they watched the visual
replay of the wrenching explosion that blasted Kar?s transport into space
dust.  There was very little to say, thought Dillon, except that if it
wasn?t a bomb, it was a very faulty energizer that should have been
discovered during routine checks.  Tok?s face never betrayed the
slightest emotion, but Gur could be heard muttering under her breath.
     When the vidlog ended, Commander Adama held up his hand to quiet the
murmurs.  ?Before we jump to any conclusions, I have one more thing to
show you.  This is taken from a data crystal that was discovered on
Ambassador Kar?s desk after his death.?
     With that insufficient warning, the commander played the visual of
Mira, daughter of Rog, vowing to go on a Blood Hunt after the dead man.
Both Tok and Gur watched intently as the young Nomen woman slit her scalp
and let the blood flow down her face.  When it was over, Gur was
breathing so heavily that she had to find a chair to sit in.  
     ?So that is it,? said Tok with bitter acceptance.  ?Naturally, when
we heard of the ambassador?s death, we feared the worst.  We feared that
his murder was politically motivated, which would bring terrible
repercussions.  Now we know it was a personal matter.?
     ?Under our law,? said Troy, ?if we catch the murderer, we must bring
him before a tribunal.?
     Tok sighed and looked at Toth for help.  ?Have you explained The
Code to them??
     ?I have,? Toth said dryly.  ?As always, they are stubborn in their
beliefs.?
     ?I have studied Colonial law,? a cracked voice broke in.  All eyes
turned to the older woman, Gur, as she rose from her chair.  ?Under
Colonial law, the Blood Hunt would be called ?justifiable termination.??
     ?I hate to correct you,? said Adama, ?but that?s something entirely
different.  Justifiable termination is when a person is attacked and
fighting for his life.  This is a revenge killing, pure and simple.  We
call it premeditated murder.?
     ?Adama, be reasonable,? said Gur. ?You Colonists are not pacifists. 
You have many instances when the taking of a life is
permitted?justifiable termination, warfare, capital punishment.  What is
the difference between the Blood Hunt and your justice, where you catch a
murderer, try him, and execute him??
     Adama shook his head and tried not to look exasperated.  ?In one
case, there?s been a fair tribunal that removes all doubt that the
accused could be innocent. In the other case, it?s vigilante justice,
which we don?t condone.?
     ?When a Nomen embarks on a Blood Hunt, there is no doubt,? said the
old woman.  ?The Code forbids it unless there is certainty, and the end
result is the same.?
     Adama sighed.  ?Then it?s true, even if the Rog family is guilty,
nothing will happen to them??
     Tok glanced at the commander and smiled.  ?No, not exactly.  The
ambassador had many friends.  The Rog family knew they could be
sacrificing their lives to uphold  The Code.  We appreciate your
diligence and concern in this matter, and after seeing this crystal, I am
sorry that you must send a delegation to our humble ship.?
     ?We wish to go...to honor Kar,? said Dillon.
     Tok nodded in a courtly manner.  ?Understood. It will be our honor
to transport you.  Now, if you?ll excuse us, I think we should join the
others at the reception.?
     ?Come,? said Toth, motioning toward the door, ?I?ll show you the way
to the reception.?  With that, the three Nomen filed out of the captain?s
office.
     Adama?s lips thinned.  ?I wish we could catch the murderer on the
Galactica.?
     ?I sent you a report about one of my warriors,? said Troy.  ?I don?t
know if it?s related to this, but Sergeant Blitz had his head bashed in
while we were sweeping for Nomen in Down Below.  He?s in a coma, but the
doc thinks he?ll be all right.  Somebody didn?t want to be carded.?
     ?I read your report,? answered the commander.  ?Don?t worry, Troy.
I?ll follow through while you?re gone, and we?ll catch them, if they?re
here.?
     Dillon said, ?Big ?if.??
     ?Oh, one final note,? Adama bowed his head apologetically.  ?You
can?t take any weapons to the Borella or aboard their shuttle.  In
exchange for that concession, I got you diplomatic immunity.?
     ?Great,? said Troy, brushing back his short-cropped hair.  ?We?ll be
unarmed and unable to do anything if we meet the murderer face-to-face.
In fact, she can brag about killing Kar if she feels like it!?
     Adama straightened.  ?Let?s do the only thing we can for Kar....show
him how much we miss him.?

***************************************

     The Great Hall, actually a small amphitheater on the Theta deck, had
seen a number of plays and concerts, recalled Dillon, but it was doubtful
whether it had seen any greater drama than the memorial service for Kar. 
Mourners and the curious were packed in, clogging the aisles.  He could
see Troy and some warriors trying to keep the aisles clear, but it was a
losing battle.  At least they managed to keep a row of seats roped off in
the front, and that was where Dillon was sitting with Commander Adama,
the ambassadors, and the visiting Nomen.
     The doors to the theater slammed shut, and the crowd began to quiet. 
From the seat beside him, Commander Adama rose to his feet and scanned
the audience.  When he was content that they were finally settling in, he
strode to the stage and stepped behind the podium.  His commanding
presence brought the audience to a gradual hush.
     ?Thank you for coming,? he began, ?to the memorial service to
Ambassador Kar of the Nomen people.  I know the shocking and sudden
nature of his death has left all of us feeling stunned.  We wish we could
do something to turn back the clock, to prevent it from happening.  But
we can?t.  And we can?t become obsessed with the tragedy....we must move
on to our real purpose in gathering here this day.  We have come here to
remember Kar?s contributions to our flight from the Cylons, and our
discovery of Earth.
     Adama cleared his throat and let his gaze fall on Sire Mollary. 
?Kar once said that serving on the Galactica was a great honor because he
was facing his enemies.  But I don?t think even his enemies considered
him the enemy.  Underneath his warrior exterior, he was a peacemaker, a
person who was helping us search for reasons to have harmony rather than
discord in the Fleet.  I will not claim that Kar and I were old friends
or knew each other well, but I always felt that Kar was trying to make
things better.?
     The commander bowed his head.  ?Humans often say a prayer in a
situation like this, which is a way of talking to our creator, so you?ll
excuse me if I indulge.  Oh Lords of Kobol, we wish Kar a swift journey
to the afterlife, in whatever form he believed.  We wish a minimum of
grief to those he leaves behind and we hope that you, our ancient lords,
can heal the call of revenge in our hearts.  Amen.?
     ?Amen,? Dillon repeated, with an almost sarcastic intonation.
     Adama looked momentarily nervous as he realized what was coming
next.  ?Being an ambassador to the Council of Twelve meant being the
point for his entire culture, and Kar could not have done so, had he not
been unique among his people.  Kar had few peers on this battlestar, but
we are fortunate to have two of them with us today.  Before President
Delenn speaks, Sire Mollary has a few words.?
     There were shocked murmurs throughout the hall, and the Nomen
delegation glared at Mollary as he ambled importantly toward the podium. 
He smiled knowingly, which came out looking like a sneer.
     ?You do not know my home colony,? he began, ?if you think we respect
for our enemies. For example, we have enormous respect for the Cylon
Alliance, even though they have vowed the destruction of all humans
throughout the galaxy.  And we respect the brutish Nomen, as well.  But
that is a discussion for another day.  In fact, that is a discussion I
often had with my departed enemy, Kar.  There was nothing we agreed upon,
yet we understood each other as few friends do.  We knew the difficulties
of our position on this battlestar....the way we were expected to be wise
and brilliant, when we were only mortal.  Both of us felt our allegiance
to the Fleet mixed with a strange sense of belonging to something bigger;
our lonely quest for the planet Earth.   As few others can say, he was my
equal....this Kar of the Third Circle....and I will miss him.?
     Mollary shrugged fatalistically.  ?The Nomen will send another, but
he will not be Kar.  I will miss seeing the veins pop out of his neck
when he is shouting at me, or the way he sputtered when he did not get
his way.  The next ambassador to the Council of Twelve will certainly not
yell or sputter as zestfully as Kar.?  The buritician touched his fist to
his chest in the Nomen salute.  ?Good-bye, my enemy.?
     Like several people in the audience, Dillon was sniffling, and he
had to fish a handkerchief out of his pocket.  This memorial service was
turning out to be just what he feared most, a heartfelt tribute to a
person who had gone before his time.  Kar had died just when he was
making his greatest contributions...all to satisfy a primitive lust for
revenge.  He wanted to yell, to curse, but he couldn?t.  So instead he
cried.
     Dillon looked up to see Delenn sweep across the stage and stand next
to the podium, which would have dwarfed her had she stood behind it.  Her
locks of auburn hair gave her a softer appearance than she?d had before
her election to the presidency; it added to her beatific presence. 
Today, however, her fragile face looked angry and determined.
     ?The death of Kar is an outrage!? said Delenn, drawing hushed
breaths from the crowd.  ?I came here to remember my friend, but I don?t
truly want to do that.  Instead, I want my friend to be alive, as he
always was.  I do not feel like forgiving his murderers and moving on,
although I know that is the prudent thing to do.  You must excuse me
while I vent my outrage first, because my friend, Kar, is not here to do
it for himself.?
     The Nomen squirmed in their chairs, and Delenn apparently took some
comfort in that.  ?I was born five yahrens after the destruction of the
Colonies, in the dingy hold of a ruby-hulled cargo ship.  In those days,
the Fleet was just a rag-tag collection of assorted ships, some state of
the art and stout, others overage and dangerous.  This rag-tag fleet had
no personality, no identity, not much chance to survive.  When I went
into politics and was elected to the Council of Twelve, I met Commander
Adama, Ambassador Kar, Captain Troy, Colonel Boomer, Dr. Zee and Sire
Mollary. Before too long I was elected president of the Council of
Twelve----and my purpose in life became clear to me.  It is not an easy
thing to believe in myth, a legend, but that is what I was eventually
able to convince the people of the Fleet to do.  Kar, though not human
himself, firmly believed in Earth, and he, the Lords of Kobol be thanked,
lived to see its discovery.  This was a great inspiration to me and many
of us who would otherwise have rebelled against Adama?s leadership.  I
took strength from Kar, and I am weakened now that he is gone.?
     Delenn?s anger gave way to a nostalgic smile.  ?Kar could be
belligerent and difficult, but I remember him for his moments of
kindness, openness, and generosity.  For him not to be here anymore....in
the Council meetings or at other receptions....is unthinkable.  I have a
sense of overwhelming loss, when I know that I should be feeling
acceptance.  So let us acknowledge the fact that Kar has transformed,
while we have remained the same.?
     Delenn folded her hands and looked at the Nomen.  ?The candle is a
universal symbol of the light that even one small soul can cast in this
lifetime.  Would you permit a small procession of candles??
     Tok nodded, and the lights were dimmed.  Lennier stepped forward,
accompanied by six priests, each bearing a long, tapered candle.  Lennier
waved a spark over each candle, and they seemed to burst into flame
simultaneously.  The lights were dimmed further, and the candlebearers
moved in a circle around the stage while a melancholy flute sounded from
somewhere in the balcony.  The procession was simple and unhurried, six
white lights floating through the darkness while the flute mourned aloud
for everyone.
     After what seemed like a brief but healing time, the houselights
were brought back up, and the six priests and their candles formed a line
leading out the door.  Despite the pandemonium that ensued when everyone
was entering the theater, the somber audience filed out in respectful
silence, gazing at the candles as they passed them.  Dillon swallowed
back a lump in his throat, thinking that the Galactica was probably
strong enough to survive the passing of Kar, but it was still a
tremendous blow.
     ?Do you know anything about an author named Mark Twain?? he heard a
voice ask.
     He turned to see Sire Mollary looking expectantly at him, a
half-smile on his face.
     ?Our reporter friend Susan Ivanvoa mentioned him to me once, but I?m
hardly an authority on Earth?s writers,? he admitted.
     ?Too bad,? said Mollary.  ?You could enjoy this more.?
     Before he could question him further about the odd literary
allusion, Tok stepped between them.  ?We leave in forty-six
mili-centons,? he told him.  ?We expect punctuality.?
     ?You?ll get it,? said the lieutenant, ?as long as you have some java
and ambrosa on board.?
     ?Ambrosa is out of the question; we Nomen are forbidden to touch
spirits.  But we recently added java to our stores,? replied the Nomen
with a slight smile.  He started to follow Toth out the rear exit, then
stopped.  ?I suggest you bring both warm and cool clothing.?
     ?I?ve done my research,?he assured him.  ?I?m prepared for
anything.?
     Tok gave him a curt bow.  Several Colonial warriors stepped in and
escorted the Nomen delegation through the backstage area.  Dillon turned
to look for Mollary, and he saw his spiked hair cutting through the sea
of heads like the dorsal fin of a shark.  He was too far away to catch up
with him, so he let his eyes wander.  Finally, he spied Troy, leaning
over the railing of the balcony and looking down on the mourners like a
vengeful angel.
     He whipped out his communicator.  ?Dillon to Troy.?
     ?I see you,? said the captain with a wave.  ?What?s up??
     ?I just wanted to tell you that we leave for the Borella in
forty-five mili-centons.?
     ?Do you have any idea what we?re getting ourselves into?? he asked
with concern.
     ?No more than I did on our first visit to Earth,? he admitted. ?But
I did hear one bit of good news.?
     ?What?s that??
     ?They?ve got java on board.?
     ?But at night I expect hot chocolate,? said the captain.  I?ve got a
million things to do before we leave, but I?ll be there.  Troy out.?

*************************************

     The thick dust of time covered the copper-colored flooring, the
pockmarked corridor walls, and finally found a hatch to overwhelm.  Mira,
daughter or Rog, paused before the hatch.  The barely-legible sign beside
it read simply ?Vee-Tar.?  As she pressed the key that opened the hatch,
she laughed at the irony that such a filthy compartment, whose residents
had been squeezed dry of all life and hope yahrens earlier, could bear
the name of the spark of life.
     The walls of the colossal cargo area dubbed the Hold of the Vee-Tar
were covered in graffiti.  Burnt odors from unknown sources suffused the
Hold, stinging her eyes and her nostrils.  The lighting system hadn?t
worked in over twenty yahrens, so the only light in the Hold came from
clay pots that hung from the wall fixtures, casting shadow races on the
dilapidated crates and shanties where the people lived.  Mira shuddered,
knowing this drained compartment of the Borella was her home, worse than
a common tribesman?s.
     ?Hurry!? she called into the air, wondering where her lazy brother,
Kog, was hiding now.  Kog was a great disappointment to her, and found
she was wasting too much energy keeping him focused on the Blood Hunt. 
He still acted as if life was going to change, get better of its own
accord, and she knew it was not.
     ?Mira!  Mira!? he screamed, stumbling out of the semi-darkness.
     She drew her compact laser pistol, thinking Kog was being chased. 
When the Nomen saw that her younger brother was laughing and waving some
bits of newspad, her sharp features bent into a scowl.  ?Stop using my
name!?
     ?Do you see what this is!? he said, shoving the newspad in her face. 
?Kar is dead!  Kar died in an explosion launching from the Battlestar
Galactica!?
     Mira grasped the sheets out of his hands and stared at them, each
symbol registering on the smooth face below the notorious forehead ridge. 
Her head throbbed, and her lips twisted back.  Kar the destroyer was
dead!  Their hated foe, killer of their father, defiler of their name,
and object of their Blood Hunt----he was dead.  Killed in a suspicious
explosion. Clearly, somebody had gotten to him, but who?
     She shouted at the ceiling, ?Why wasn?t it me??
     ?Hush, sister.  Let the fates have some play here,? Kog cautioned
her.
     ?Who gave you these?? she demanded, flashing the newspads in his
face.
Kog pointed innocently behind them.  ?A man down there, he was giving
them away. Several people seemed to know about it already.?
     Mira had already leveled her laser gun, and was scanning the shadows
when she heard a voice spring from inside a shanty.  ?Don?t be afraid, my
dear,? it crooned.
     She knew this disembodied voice was a trick....some said the Thenta
Society had learned it from the Hidiu mystics of Leo?but the assassins
had made it their own.  The young Nomen woman moved in a crouch with her
pistol drawn, trying to find the source of the voice.  She had reason to
hate the guild, and they her----but she knew that if they wanted her
dead, they would strike without issuing a warning.
     ?You haven?t come to kill us, have you?? she asked.
     ?Not at this time, my lady,? said the voice.  ?Come to the nearest
support pole.?
     Kog was slinking away from the confrontation, but Mira grabbed him
by his shabby collar and thrust him against the wall.  He hit the
pockmarked steel head on and moaned as he massaged a knot on his head.
     ?You picked up the message,? she told him.  ?So you go with me.?
     Mira dragged him the rest of the way and threw him against one side
of the pole, while she leaned against the other.  She holstered her
weapon and watched the light in the clay pot hanging from a hook in the
pole flicker and fluctuate.  ?We?re here!? she shouted into the air.
     A slim man wrapped in black shawls eased out of the shadows and
slumped against the pole beside her brother, who gasped.  Slinking back,
Kog managed to get control of himself and face this apparition.  The
black shawls covered every part of him, including his face.  
     ?You?ve been making trouble for us,? said the man in a cultured bass
voice.  ?Telling people that we don?t fulfill our contracts.?
     ?Well, you don?t!? Mira spat at the floor.  ?The Thenta Society is a
sham, and that?s all I tell them.?
     The man swaddled in black flinched for a moment, but settled beside
the pole.  ?You cannot say that anymore.  We have fulfilled our contract
with your father.  Kar is dead.?
     Mira narrowed her hazelnut eyes at the assassin, knowing that he and
death were old friends.     ?Is this true?  Kar is truly dead??
     ?Go to Jasba Section,? said the man.  ?Find any public viewer.  You
will see, Kar is dead.  The newspads do not lie.?
     Mira breathed deeply and sank against the ancient pole.  ?Then it is
over?? she asked in disbelief.
     ?Not for you,? said the assassin.  ?Many suspect you because of your
brave but indiscreet Blood Hunt.  Next time, leave this work to
professionals.?
     Mira glared at him.  As much as she despised the cold-blooded
scavengers of the Thenta Society, she was ready to accept the fact that
they had fulfilled their contract.
     Still, the Nomen woman straightened her shoulders and declared, ?I
am proud of my Blood Hunt.?
     ?Of course you are, my dear, but the humans of the Fleet do not
appreciate the Blood Hunt as much as we do.  Kar also has many friends,
important ones.  Our advice to you is this...neither admit nor deny your
hand in his murder, and do not mention us.  Your Blood Hunt is well
known, and all will come to accept it.?
     Mira bowed.  ?I will do as you wish. From now on, I will speak
highly of your fellowship.?
     The black-shrouded figure bowed in return.  ?Captain Troy and
Lieutenant Dillon are coming to the Borella to answer the Nomen Council?s
questions.  We will stay close to them and watch them, in case they
interfere too much.  As of now, our business with you is concluded.?
     With that, the black-shrouded man stepped from the light of the
hanging clay pot and into the semi-darkness, which accepted him without
hestitation.

CHAPTER 6
VARTON 

     Captain Troy stayed behind in the theater balcony, watching the
mourners depart after the memorial service for Kar.  He wasn?t the
sentimental type, except when it came to old friends and young ladies,
but the memorial service had been oddly touching.  Even Mollarly had
risen to the occasion.  As Delenn had said in her address, it was easy to
be angry and deny what had happened, and it was much harder to accept the
fact that Kar was gone.  It was like a whole section of the battlestar
was suddenly missing.
     He leaned over the balcony again, wondering if there was a murderer
in the well-behaved crowd.  The warrior had no idea anybody was watching
him.
     ?Hi, my name is Varton!? crowed a loud voice directly behind him. 
The security chief whirled around to see a human male approaching him
from the back of the balcony.  He was a portly fellow dressed in a
dramatic jade green velvet hood and cloak, with marmalade patterns on the
back. Sweat glistened on his florid face.  He held out a pudgy hand as if
it was the most important thing in the world that he shake Troy?s hand.
     ?Do I know you?? asked Troy.
     ?No, Captain, you do not,? answered the man cheerfully, but that
didn?t prevent him from grabbing Troy?s hand and yanking for all he was
worth.  ?My name is Varton, but I already said that.  You?re Troy, strike
commander of this mighty battlestar, am I right??
     ?That?s hardly classified information,? growled the warrior.
?Listen, I?ve got to leave the Galactica soon, and I?m busy.?  He glanced
down and saw Talia filing out of the amphitheater with the others, which
reminded him of another matter still up in the air....Sergeant Blitz.  He
demanded of his chubby acquaintance, ?Do you think you could get to the
point??
     ?It?s quite simple, sir.? He stood on his tiptoes to whisper to the
taller man.  ?Rumor has it that you?re going to the Borella aboard the
Shanavas. ˙I?d like to tag along, if I could.  I?ve been trying to get
there for months, and I was hoping you?d prevail upon the Nomen or
Commander Adama to get me aboard.?
     Troy gaped at the man. ?You?ve got a lot of nerve.  If you know all
of that, then you also know that we?re an official delegation.  The
Shanavas is not just any inter-fleet shuttle----you can?t just buy a
ducket on her.?
     Varton laughed nervously.  ?That is one reason why I must appeal to
you, sir.  I?ve managed to come this far----only just arrived----but I
find myself short of funds for a brief jaunt to the Borella.  However,
I?ve got excellent lines of credit there, plus many business associates
who will vouch for me.?
     ?You?ve been to the Borella?? asked Troy, sounding doubtful.
     ?Been to the Borella, sir?  Why, I lived on it for ten yahrens! 
Have a wife there, I do. Well, she?s an ex-wife by now, I should imagine. 
Darling little thing, except when she used to get mad at me.?  He
whispered again.  ?Don?t marry a Nomen unless you can stand a woman with
a temper.?
     Now Troy was intrigued.  ?I didn?t think they married Colonists.?
     ?They usually don?t.  Not very often, anyway,? admitted Varton. 
?The number of Colonists living among the Nomen is very small, but a
family with too many daughters might see fit to marry one off to a
Colonist who was prosperous.?
Troy scowled at the man?s sly grin, but he was still intrigued. ?What
kind of business do you do among the Nomen??
     ?Technology trader,? answered Varton.  ?The Nomen are crazy for
anything not of their culture.  Toys, kitchen goods, communications....?
     ?Weapons,? suggested Troy.
     The man bristled.  ?Nothing illegal, I can assure you. In fact, had
I not been so scrupulous, I would have avoided the business reversals
that have kept me away from the Borella for so long.?
     Troy rubbed his chin.  ?You know, it might not be a bad idea to have
a guide along, somebody who knows the interior.  We?ve been summoned to
answer questions about Kar?s death, but we don?t want to be held up in a
bureaucratic nightmare for days on end.?
     ?I still have some friends in high places,? Varton assured him. ?I
could save you considerable time and help you to avoid many pitfalls.?
     ?You would be part of the official delegation...no weapons, no funny
business....and you would have to attend a memorial service for Kar.?
     Varton rubbed his chubby hands together.  ?I would be honored to
attend a service for Ambassador Kar, whom I met many yahrens ago.  What a
tragic loss.?
     ?Yeah.? The warrior tapped some buttons on his communicator and
spoke into the device.  ?Troy to the bridge.?
     ?Ensign Lacammo on duty,? came a sprightly female voice.  ?Go ahead,
Captain Troy.?
     ?I would like the complete records on a human male who?s here on the
Galactica. He goes by the name of Varton.  I also want to know what his
qualifications to be on the Galactica are, how long he?s been here, and
what his financial status is.  And I want to know if there is any record
of him living on the freighter Borella.?
     Troy smiled at his new friend, who seemed to be sweating just a
little bit more.  ?You only have half a centon for this, so get back to
me as soon as you can.?
     ?Yes, sir.  Bridge out.?
     Varton chuckled and tugged at his collar.  ?Your talents are wasted,
Troy.  You belong in Council Security, not the Colonial Service.?
     ?I?m only trying to make sure you are you say you are. I?ll talk to
the commander and do the best I can.  Meet me in forty-three mili-centons
in Launch Bay Alpha, and be ready to go.?
     ?Yes, sir!? said Varton, snapping to attention and thrusting his
stomach out.
     Troy winced at the man?s eagerness and strode to the steps leading
down from the balcony.  He didn?t feel as if he?d made much of a
commitment, because if Varton?s story didn?t check out, he wasn?t going
anywhere?except maybe to the brig.  If by some miracle Varton did check
out, he could be a valuable ally, a human who knew his way around the
Nomen freighter.  Troy wanted to trust Toth to be their guide, but he was
afraid that the attache had her own agenda.
     Maybe if he was lucky, thought the warrior, there would be a break
in the investigation before he had to board the Shanavas. Maybe they?d
find Mira in Down Below, or Blitz would jump up in bed and identify both
his assailant and the murderer.  Get real, thought Troy, knowing that he
would never have a lucky streak like that.
     He stopped in the corridor and watched the last of the mourners, who
were breaking up into small groups and going about their business.  After
a moment, the captain tapped a few keys on his communicator and said,
?Troy to Life Station.?
     ?Franklin here,? came the response.  ?Are you checking up on your
officer??
     ?Yeah, Doc.  Has Blitz regained consciousness??
     ?I just got back from the service.  Let me check.? A mili-centon
later, Franklin reported back. ?Blitz gained consciousness briefly, but
he became agitated and we sedated him.  His vital signs look good, and
he?s responding well to the cardiacrejuvination vitalizer, but you
can?t be too careful with head trauma.?
     ?Can we wake him up for questioning?? asked Troy.
The doctor spoke in a cool tone.  ?I think he?s several centons away from
that.  Perhaps tomorrow.?
     ?Thanks,? said Troy.  ?I?ll be off-ship by then, so could you
contact Commander Adama as soon as Blitz is well enough to be questioned
about his attack??
     ?I?ll see to it.  Anything else??
     ?Nope.  Troy out.?  He tapped his communicator again.  ?Troy to
Krumst.?
     ?I read you, Captain.?
     ?Any luck down there?? he asked, expecting the worst.
     ?Afraid not. We?ve checked every Nomen in sight, and we?ve found a
handful with expired identicards and no authorization to be on the
Galactica.  But we?ve made positive ID on all of them, and none of them
are recent arrivals to our battlestar.  No one seems to have any
connection to the Rog family.?
     ?What about the attack on Blitz?  Anyone see anything??
     ?No, sir.  But then, nobody ever sees anything down here.?
     Troy frowned at his little device.  ?All right, Krumst, call it off
for now.  I?m off the ship in about forty mili-centons, but there is one
thing I want you to follow up on.?
     ?Sure, Troy.?
     ?When Blitz comes to, question him.  If he can?t remember who hit
him----and people often lose their memory after a head injury----contact
Talia.  She can do a scan on him and help us fill in the blanks.  She?s
already agreed to do this, so all you have to do is call her.?
     ?Gotcha.  Good luck among those Nomen.?
     ?Yeah,? said Troy.  ?Out.?
     After stopping at his quarters to pick up his duffel bag and rescue
his heavy coat from mothballs, Troy headed toward Commander Adama?s
quarters.  He was about ten metrons from the commander?s door when his
communicator buzzed.
     ?Troy here!? he snapped in the little box in his hand.
     ?This is Ensign Lacammo on the bridge, and I have that data for you
on Varton.  Want me to upload to your link??
     Troy checked the time and saw that he was running out of it.  ?Send
it to Commander Adama?s terminal.  I?m just outside his office.  Troy
out.?
     Be there, grandfather, he muttered to himself as he pressed the
chime.  To his relief, a voice called, ?Enter!?
     Troy ducked through the door and was relieved to see that Adama was
alone in his quarters.  He was peering at his wall monitors, a bemused
expression on his face.
     The commander barely looked up.  ?Hello, Troy.  Ready for your
visit??
     ?Not really, grandfather,? admitted the warrior.  ?I hope I haven?t
caught you at a bad time, but this will only take a moment.?
     Adama frowned at his monitors.  ?Would you believe I?m looking at
Nomen legal texts?  Most of them are centuries old and predate the
landing of the first Colonial humans on Borella. It seems as if they
prefer debating the meaning of these old laws, most of which are
irrelevant to a spacefaring society, to writing new laws.  Their beliefs
are mired in the past.  This Blood Hunt business reminds me of Caprica a
few centuries back, when it was legal to fight duels to the death.?
     Troy stepped to the side of Adama?s desk.  ?Sir, I was expecting a
download from the bridge, and I had them send it directly to you. It
should be coming through on your screens now. Could I take a look??
     Adama indicated the wall monitors with a sweep of his hand.  ?Go
ahead.?
     Troy watched both monitors as the information and a likeness
blossomed on them.  He began to read aloud, ?Subject?s identity accurate. 
True name is Varton.  Space born of Piconese  parents.?  He stopped and
pointed to a window of text.  ?This is interesting, grandfather----he?s
clearly been slumming around just about every ship in the fleet, but you
can see that the freighter Borella was his legal residence for almost ten
yahrens.  He was registered with the census agency and the Inter-fleet
Trade Commission.  Yeah, he seems legit.?
     ?Do you suspect this man of Kar?s murder?? asked Adama.
     ?No, I don?t.  This may sound crazy, but I would like to take Varton
with us to the Borella, to be a sort of guide.?
     Adama blinked at him.  ?Do you know this man well??
     ?No, I?ve only just met him.  He came up to me after the service and
said he wanted to get back to the Borella.  He agreed to be my guide if I
arranged passage on the Shanavas.?
     ?That?s not one of our shuttles, Troy.  I can?t order them to take a
total  stranger on board.?
 The warrior cleared his throat.  ?Begging your pardon, grandfather, but
it?s your prerogative to pick the people for the official delegation.  I
don?t remember volunteering, but here I am.  You could put Varton on the
list. Since he?s married to a Nomen, he is sort of a pioneer in
Nomen-Human relationships.?
     ?How long has Varton been aboard the Galactica?? In answer to his
own question, the commander glared at his wall monitors and said, ?He
just arrived here two centons ago, so he couldn?t have been involved in
Kar?s death.  He didn?t waste any time getting to you, did he??
     ?No, sir. I don?t intend to trust him with my life....all I know is
that he fell into my lap, and I?d feel like a fool if I didn?t take him. 
He said he was broke.....any record on his financial status??
     Adama gazed at his screen.  ?None, I fear.  But look at all the
ships this man has visited----the Rising Star, the Orion, the Foul
Asteroid, the Tritios, not to mention ten yahrens aboard the Borella.
˙Look here and here ?there are lots of gaps where we don?t know where
he?s been.  If you take this man with you, he?ll have to be your
responsibility.  I?ll hold you personally accountable for his actions.?
     ?Yes, sir,? Troy answered gravely, wondering if he was taking leave
of his senses.  He had absolutely no reason to trust Varton, just a hunch
that providence had dealt him a pyramid capstone in a jade green cloak.
     Commander Adama pressed a button on his desk.  ?This is Commander
Adama to the Nomen shuttle Shanavas. I would like to speak to Mr. Tok, if
he is available.?
     The data that had been previously scrolling by on the wall monitors
was replaced by a view of the cockpit of the Nomen shuttle Shanavas. ˙The
lights were dimmed drowsily, as if takeoff were centons away instead of
ten mili-centons.  Tok sat down in front of the screen, and his face was
half-bathed in shadows.
     ?Yes, Adama?? he said.
     ?Mr. Tok, I wish to include one more dignitary on the list of
delegates from the Galactica.  His name is Varton, and he?s a civilian.?
     Now Tok sat up abruptly in his chair and scowled at Adama.  ?This is
highly irregular, adding a passenger only ten mili-centons before we
launch.?
     Adama smiled pleasantly.  ?We are only trying to show our respect to
Ambassador Kar by sending a worthy delegation.  I can upload to you
Varton?s records, so you can see for yourself that he?s a fitting symbol
of the cooperation between our peoples.?
     ?Very well,? muttered the Nomen dignitary.  ?I trust this will not
delay our departure.  Out.?  He punched a button and the monitors went
blank.
     In the dimly-lit cockpit of the shuttle Shanavas, Kar sharp chin
jutted out of the shadows.  ?Idiot!  What do mean bringing a complete
stranger on board??
     ?I could do nothing else,? said Tok.  ?A three-person delegation is
still small.  I was in no position to refuse the Colonials.  Believe me,
they have been quite genuine in their grief over your demise.  The
memorial service was heartwarming.  When this is all over, my friend, you
will have to tell me why you have taken such a desperate action.?
     Kar sat stiffly in his chair, his lips tight.  Dead men have little
influence, he was beginning to find out.
     ?Data download from Commander Adama is now complete, announced Tar.
     ?You?d better get below,? Tok told Kar, a note of dismissal in his
voice.
     Kar wanted to protest, but his power and prestige were evaporating
before his eyes.  No longer was he Kar of the Third Circle.  He was a
corpse....a nonentity.  His lot was to be hidden away, hunted, and now
ignored.  When he had hastily devised his scheme, he had never realized
the jeopardy in which he was placing himself.  He had assumed that his
associates would treat him as they always had, realizing that he was
still Kar.  But Kar was officially dead; he had no strings to pull and no
teeth to his bite.  He was dependent upon the kindness of friends, and
they seemed more curious than helpful.
     He would try to arrange being discovered floating in space, and
still alive, as soon as his mission to the Borella was over.  And he
would conclude that business as quickly as possible.
     Kar marched down the ladder that would take him down to a small
closet.  His only furniture in there would be a modest bed, comfortable
but not exactly luxurious.

*************************************

     Apollo was ambushed just as he was coming on the turbolift in Launch
Bay Alpha.  Dillon stopped him with a palm to the chest and peered at him
with eyes that were darker and more intense than usual.
     ?What?s this I hear about some civilian coming with us?? he
demanded.
     ?You mean Varton,? Troy said sheepishly.  ?He?s a stranger to us,
but he?s no stranger to the Borella.  We?ll need someone who knows their
way around.?
     ?What about Toth?  I had breakfast with her this morning....we ate
broiled smeck in the Mess Hall, for Sagan?s sake!  She?s agreed to help
us.?
     Troy scowled.  ?Until she catches sight of Mira and goes for her
throat.  I want to get in and out with the least amount of trouble, and I
think Varton will be a big help.?
     He struggled with his duffel bag and his heavy coat while trying to
check the time.  Frak!  He didn?t want to go someplace where he had to
wear a coat, where the temperature shot up and down the thermometer like
a yo-yo.  He liked it on the Galactica, where the life-support and
gravity systems were set at the best levels to accommodate humans.
     Dillon hefted his own luggage and bulky jacket.  ?We?d better keep
moving.?
     ?Captain Troy!? bellowed a voice.  They turned to see a squat man in
a jade green cloak waddling toward them, dragging a huge suitcase in each
hand.
     Dillon gave Troy a raised eyebrow. ?Don?t tell me that?s him??
     ?All right, I?ll let him tell you.? Troy managed a smile.
     His round face beaming, Varton dropped his suitcases in front of
Dillon.  ?I?m Varton,? he said proudly, ?and you must be Lieutenant
Dillon.  This is a real pleasure, yes indeed.?
     Troy?s wingman frowned darkly.  ?I wasn?t consulted about you coming
with us, and I?m not sure I agree with it.  This is a delicate mission,
and we may need to be tactful.?  He glanced at Troy.  ?On the other hand,
neither one of us knows how to be tactful.  How about you??
     Varton dabbed a handkerchief at his moist forehead.  ?I don?t know
how tactful I am, but I do know Borellian Nomen.  With them, you have to
deal from a position of strength.  If they sense weakness, they?ll chew
you up and spit you out.  Have you got anything to bargain with??
     Troy looked at Dillon and shook his head. ?No, all we?ve got is a
data crystal, some vidlogs, and a desire to get home.  If we?re sticking
to the truth, why should we have to bargain??
     ?One hand washes the other. That?s a Colonial phrase, but the Nomen
could have invented it.?  Varton picked up his suitcases and grinned.  ?I
hate to be late!  Shall we be going??
     With Varton plunging ahead in the lead, the Galactican delegation
made their way to the tarmac, where the Shanavas rested.  Waiting for
them was Toth, who gave the three humans a disdainful look.
     ?I hope you aren?t turning this into a circus,? she said.
     Nonplussed, Varton looked at her and smiled.  ?The flower of
Borellian femininity is the thorn.?
     Toth blinked at him in surprise. ?Where did you learn that??
     ?From my lovely wife, Hannah.  Well, that?s what I called her; her
real name is Ona.  She was a great student of the Nomen Vopa.  I have
always been attracted to powerful women, Nomen women.?  He shrugged.
?It?s a terrible weakness.  I cannot wait to return to the ship of thorny
women.?
     Toth laughed, a rich ribald sound.  ?Under the thorn lies the
softest fruit,? she added.
?How well I know,? agreed Varton.
     Troy and Dillon looked blankly at one another, neither one of them
being an expert on Nomen double entendres.  On the plus side, Varton
seemed to have made his first conquest among their hosts.
     He bowed formally to Toth.  ?May I have the pleasure of serving you
dinner tonight??
     Toth frowned at the invitation.  ?I?m sure we?ll all eat together.
If you?ll excuse me, I?ll tell Tok that the Galactican delegation is
here.?  The lanky Nomen strode through the air-lock.
     ?I?m afraid to ask,? said Troy, ?but what is this.....Vopa??
     Varton smiled.  ?It?s equivalent to the 145th Scripture in the Book
of the Word?the guide to sexual pleasure.  Required reading on the
Borella, old boy.?
     With that, the portly man gripped his bags and rumbled up the ramp. 
Dillon and Troy struggled along in his wake.  The airlock door whooshed
open and they walked up the ramp to the receiving compartment, where Tok,
his mate and pilot, Tar, and Toth stood waiting.  A crewman bolted the
hatch behind them and made ready for launch.
     With importance, Tok proclaimed, ?On behalf of the Nomen people,
welcome aboard the shuttle Shanavas, pride of the Borella?s small but
efficient squadron of inter-fleet taxis.?
     ?It is our pleasure,? said Lieutenant Dillon.  ?I just wish it were
under happier circumstances.?
     A communications panel in the wall made a chirping sound, and the
pilot rushed to answer it.  ?This is Tar.?
     ?We have completed the checklist, and the Galactica has cleared us
for launch,? came the reply.
     Tok narrowed his eyes at the colorfully dressed Colonist.  ?I did
some checking.  You disappeared from the Borella two yahrens
ago....listed as missing, presumed dead.?
     Varton laughed nervously.  ?Surely you?ve heard of the great
Earthman Mark Twain?  Many, many Earth yahrens ago, he said ?the reports
of my death were greatly exaggerated!?  I will tell you of my adventure
over dinner tonight, Mr. Tok.  Suffice to say, I am happy to be returning
to the people who cry in bloodstone.?
     Tok cocked his head and smiled, apparently taken off guard by
another Nomen homily.  He issued some orders to the shuttle?s small crew,
and Troy looked at Dillon only to find that his brow was deeply furrowed
in thought.  ?Are you trying to make sense of this?? he whispered.
     ?No, he mentioned Mark Twain.?  He frowned in thought.  ?That?s
twice I?ve heard that Earthman?s name today.?
     A hatch opened, and two crewmembers came in to pick up the
passengers? luggage and coats.  Tok led his guests through the hatch and
down a little walkway that was surrounded by ducts and access panels. 
They went through another hatch and entered a chamber that contained
about sixty seats arranged in a semicircle, facing center.  With no
passengers present, the chamber seemed oddly hollow, like the inside of a
tomb.
     Tok motioned to the empty seats.  ?You will be comfortable here. 
Please strap yourselves in with the restraining bars, as there will be an
increase in g?s and weightlessness for a few mili-centons.?
     Toth immediately took a seat, as if showing that she was a passenger
who knew her place.  Varton hustled to the seat beside her and
unnecessarily helped her pull down her restraining bar.  With fifty-some
empty seats, Troy had a wide range of choices.  He always liked to sit at
the back of a vessel, where he could keep an eye on everybody else, so he
wandered in that direction.  Still embedded in his own thoughts, Dillon
moved after him.
     Troy pulled the molded bar down over his head and lifted his
eyebrows at Dillon.  The Nomen kept watch on their four passengers until
each one was safely strapped into his or her seat.  Only then did they
leave them alone in the passenger section.
     A few aisles away, Toth and Varton were chatting like old friends,
although it sounded as if they were talking about restaurants instead of
sex.
     ?What do you know about the Earthman called Mark Twain?? 
     ?Plenty,? said Troy.  ?Susan read some of his stories to me on our
last visit to Earth.  I love him.?
     Suddenly, Troy here a hollow clanging sound that reverberated around
the empty chamber.  We?re pulling away from the Galactica, he thought. 
The skin on his face stretched back, his hair follicles tinged, and he
could feel a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. They were on their way
to the freighter Borella.

****************************

CHAPTER 7
THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES

     Dr. Franklin bent over his prized patient, Flight Sergeant Blitz,
and smiled at the man.  ?Just relax.  Don?t try to move.  It?s especially
important to keep your head still.?
     ?Okay,? muttered Blitz, gazing around at the Life Station.  The
blinking lights and instruments blinded him, and he twisted his head from
side to side.  That gave him a terrific headache, so he stopped doing it
and just screwed his eyes shut.
     ?Lower the lights, please,? said Dr. Franklin, very calmly.  He
placed his dark hands on Blitz?s chest, and the disoriented warrior felt
a wave of comfort.  ?Don?t move around, please.  Just try to stay calm.?
     ?Captain Troy,? croaked Blitz. ?I....uh...the Nomen.....?
     ?Captain Troy has left the Galactica, but Commander Adama is on his
way here, and so is your friend, Security Officer Krumst.?  He smiled
pleasantly.  ?You?re a popular fellow, Blitz.  I hear that our resident
telepath, Talia, wants to see you, too.  You just try to collect your
thoughts, and don?t move around too much.  Okay??
     The doctor stood up, looking confident, calm, and authoritative all
at the same time.  ?Be sure to tell me if you?ve got any serious pain
anywhere.  We can sedate you again.?
     ?All right,? said the warrior, taking a deep breath and starting to
feel more like a human being than a blob of confusion.  He tried to
collect his thoughts, but they seemed to be rather nebulous----just a few
scattered images floating weightlessly beyond his grasp.
     Blitz didn?t know how long he lay there, getting reacquainted with
his various appendages and assuring himself he wasn?t seriously hurt,
except for the foamcore bandage around his head and the dull throbbing
that would not go away.  Somebody had sure dinged his rocker panel, but
he couldn?t remember who, only that it had something to do with Nomen. 
Well, his brother, Thuno, always told him he had a hard head.  He guessed
that was better than the alternative.
     When he heard voices speaking softly nearby, he opened his eyes and
saw the good doctor conferring with Krumst, Commander Adama, and Talia,
who looked like an angel with a halo of blond hair around her head.
?Krumst!? he croaked.
     The security officer rushed to the warrior?s lifepod, his sardonic
face creasing into a smile.     ?Yeah, Blitz, we send you to do a simple
job, and you get your head busted open.?
     ?Krumst, I don?t know who did it. I can?t tell you anything.?
     ?Relax,? Dr. Franklin cautioned.  ?You won?t remember it all at
once.  Your memory will come back in bits and pieces----it may take
days.?  He looked pointedly at Commander Adama.  ?Your health is the
primary concern.?
     ?Of course,? said Adama.  He smiled at Blitz through his gray-white
beard.  ?Sergeant, do you think you?re up to answering a few questions??
     ?Yes, sir,? Blitz tried to relax.  ?I?ll do the best I can.?
     Adama glanced at Krumst, who consulted a handheld device.  ?Let me
tell you the details that we have so far, and maybe they?ll jog your
memory.  You were in Down Below, corridor 112 of Beta sector, checking
for undocumented Nomen among the burn-outs.  This was in connection with
the death of Ambassador Kar.?
     ?Yes,? said Blitz slowly, the assignment coming back to him.  ?I
remember all of that.  We were looking for some family.....?
     ?Rog,? answered Krumst. ?That?s right, Blitz.  You?re doing swell. 
That stretch of corridor has a lot of empty compartments where the
burn-outs are making their homes.  You were checking around, running ID
on Nomen.  Some kids told us that you went inside one of those
compartments.  Do you know what happened next??
     ?I went inside one of them,? Blitz repeated to himself, squinting
into their faces.  Then he grew frustrated. ?I went into several of them,
running lots of identicards.  I don?t remember one in particular....I
don?t remember what was so special about it.?
     ?Permit me, then, to ask you this,? said Commander Adama, ?do you
remember anything odd happening to you? Anything unusual??
     Blitz shut his eyes, hoping it would improve his memory.  His mind
did possess one odd image?an old Nomen, lying in bed with his back to
him.  ?There was a Nomen who was sick,? he said. ?I never saw his face.?
     Adama leaned forward.  ?You never saw his face.  So you never
verified his ID??
     ?I guess not,? admitted Blitz. ?Or I did, but I just don?t remember
it.?
     ?May I try?? Talia asked softly.  Adama nodded and motioned toward
the patient.  The telepath, dressed in an iridescent maple velveteen suit
with leaf green trim, stepped to the edge of the life pod and smiled
sympathetically at Blitz.
     ?I?m reluctant to scan you in your condition,? she said, ?but if we
can find out what happened to Ambassador Kar.....?
     ?I understand. It?s okay,? said Blitz, trying to appear brave in the
presence of the beautiful telepath.  ?What have I got to hide??
     ?I won?t find that out,? said the telepath.  ?This scan is going to
be very specific, concentrating on what happened to you in Down Below. 
But if the pain becomes too great for either of us, I?m going to break it
off.?
     ?Okay,? agreed Blitz, taking a deep breath.
     Slowly, Talia pulled the black leather glove of her right hand,
revealing a delicate appendage that was even whiter than her porcelain
face.  She explained, ?I want you to concentrate on an image in your mind
from earlier today, when you were in Down Below.  It could be a person,
like that sick Nomen, or a number on a bulkhead.  Just think of something
that you clearly remember from earlier today.?
     Blitz tried to remember the sick Nomen who was lying on the cot, his
back toward him.  He seemed important for some reason.  Then he felt
Talia?s cool fingers on his wrist, and the image became crystal clear,
populated by a mob of people and impressions vying for his attention. 
All kinds of memories came cascading into his consciousness, including
some from yahrens ago, but Talia?s coold, white hand was there to push
most of them away.  With her calm assistance, he suddenly knew where he
was----in the corridors of Down Below.
     He heard words, but they were hollow, slurred, and badly
amplified----as if he were hearing them over a loudspeaker.  Then he
realized they were his own words, saying to someone in Down Below, ?Sorry
to bother you, but we?re looking for undocumented Nomen in connection
with Ambassador Kar?s death. Are you authorized to be on the Galactica??
     An old Nomen looked queerly at him, his face fading in and out of
memory.  Suddenly, Talia?s hand reached forward, grabbed the Nomen by his
patchwork collar, and pulled him into sharp focus.  ?I should be,?
answered the Nomen.  ?My name is Paba.  I came aboard to visit some of my
warrior friends a yahren ago.  I lost all my cubits to them in a game of
pyramid, and now I?m stuck here.  You couldn?t help me get off, could
you??
     ??Fraid not.  Can I see your identicard, please.?
     In indelible slow motion, every movement magnified, Blitz saw
himself checking the Nomen?s identicard.  He saw the readouts in blazing
letters on his handheld terminal. ?Yes, I?ve got you listed.  Any other
Nomen in there??
     Careful, Kar thought in panic.  The wrong answer could be
disastrous.  But what was the right answer?
     ?Only my brother is here,? echoed words as loud as a scream. ?He is
very sick.?
     Blitz felt himself backing away, as if he didn?t want to pursue
matters further.  He knew he should insist upon seeing the sick Nomen,
but he also knew there was danger lurking inside the compartment.  The
white hand pushed him in the back, urging him to do his duty.
     ?I?ll have to see him,? came his own hollow voice.  ?I?ll just take
a look inside and check his identicard.  Excuse me.?
     Blitz plunged into the darkness and filth of the old compartment. 
He cringed at the certain danger, and he wanted to run...but the white
hand again pushed him firmly ahead.
     ?It?s all right,? said a soothing female voice. ?We?re only going to
look.?
     Then the vivid image of the sick Nomen lying in the cot returned to
his mind, and Blitz felt as if he had arrived somewhere, at some kind of
understanding. ?Excuse me,? he said, ?we?re looking for undocumented
Nomen in connection with Ambassador Kar?s death.  Are you authorized to
be on the Galactica??
     The Nomen coughed and wheezed and sounded very sick, as he pulled
his blanket tighter.
     ?Did you hear what I said?? insisted the officer.  ?I need your name
and your identicard.?
     ?Moc,? wheezed the sick Nomen. Moc, Moc, Moc, echoed the voice in
Blitz?s mind, replayed at various speeds and pitches.  What was there
about the voice?
     An identicard clattered to the grimy floor, and Blitz bent down to
pick it up.  Every motion continued to be magnified in importance,
scrutinized down to the last detail.  ?Thank you,? moaned the voice,
sounding like it came from inside a cave.  He saw the identicard sliding
through his terminal like a sailboat slicing across the waves, the little
letters danced for a moment, then spelled out the message ?ID confirmed.?
     One last step, Blitz knew.  What was it?  Oh yes, his face.  His
face!  But there was no record of his face, even though the white hand
swirled around the dingy compartment trying to find it.  There were only
voices.
     ?You are authorized to be here,? a voice roared in his ears.  ?But I
have to see you to make positive identification.  Turn over, please.?
Turn over please.  Turn over please.  But the figure was as motionless as
a stone.
     Like a slap to the face, the Nomen?s words struck him:  ?I don?t
wish to vomit all over you!  I have a virus....a potent one!  It is
liquefying my intestines.  It would kill a human in a day or two!?
     Blitz tried to stagger away, to escape from the faceless danger and
the inhuman voice, but the white hand jerked his head around and made him
listen again.  It would kill a human in a day or two!  It would kill a
human in a day or two!
     Blitz?s own intestines didn?t feel so good.  He went for his
communicator, but the confounded slow motion of the dreamworld betrayed
him.  He felt a horrible darkness descending, and he was unable to move
quickly enough to avoid it.  His head felt as if it were caught in a
vise, and he screamed with terror.
     Instantly, the communicator in his hand vanished, and the strange
voices floated away on a gentle breeze.  As his eyes fluttered open,
images became distinct and blended into the quiltwork of lights in the
Life Station.  The first thing he saw distinctly was Talia; her angelic
face was troubled as she hurriedly pulled her glove over her naked right
hand.
     ?It?ll be okay,? he assured her.  ?I won?t feel a thing.?
     She gave him a friendly smile.  ?You can rest now.?
     ?Excellent idea,? agreed Dr. Franklin, pushing Commander Adama,
Talia, and Krumst away from the bed.  Franklin motioned to a nurse, and
the patient felt a sting in his shoulder where she gave him a hypo.  A
friendly darkness descended, and Blitz was snoring within seconds.

*************************************

     ?First, I have some names,? Talia told Adama and Krumst.  ?Two Nomen
named Paba and Moc.  I?m certain they?re the ones who hit him.  At least,
I?m sure the attack occurred in the compartment where those two were
living.?
     Krumst entered the data on his handheld terminal, and the three of
them waited for the results.  ?Hey,? said Krumst, ?this Paba guy is
listed as a passenger on a transport that?s boarding right now!  Headed
for the interstellar merchantman S.S. Iathey.?
     ?Arrest him,? ordered Adama. ?I?ll hold the transport.?
     As Krumst rushed out the door and Adama contacted the bridge, Talia
tried to collect her thoughts.  Memory wiped clean by a trauma to the
head was often the most difficult to probe.  It was like trying to
resurrect computer files that had been disrupted by a strong magnetic
field.  There was just no way to fully trust what you found.
     ?Do all Nomen sound the same to you,? Commander?? she asked.
     He have her a puzzled look.  ?Sound the same as what??
     ?Their speaking voices. Does one Nomen sound a lot like another??
     Adama shook his head in frustration. ?My dear, on that subject I am
the last person to ask.  Why?  Did you recognize one of their voices??
     ?I thought so,? she answered with a shrug.  ?That is, the voice
reminded me of someone I knew, and reminded Blitz, too. But I don?t think
it could be him.?
     ?How do you know?  Who are you talking about??
Talia smiled sheepishly at the commander.  ?Ambassador Kar.  But he?s
dead, isn?t he??
     Commander Adama stared at her, and she went on.  ?Sergeant Blitz
remembers talking to a Nomen, whose face he didn?t see but whose voice
sounded like Kar.  But two Nomen voices might sound the same, especially
to a Colonist.?
     ?Yes,? Adama answered thoughtfully.  ?That is, we saw his personal
transport blow up, but we never saw his body.  How certain are you of
this??
     Talia laughed, shaking her blond hair.  ?I?m not certain at all. 
I?m telling you this based on a scan of memory that has been damaged by
trauma to the head. I wouldn?t give it much credence----it?s just an
impression I had.  But I would ask one thing, Commander?if you find those
two Nomen, I?d like to be present when you question them.?
     ?Certainly,? answered Adama.  ?Thank you for your help.?
     Talia sighed.  ?I hope it helps.?

*************************************

     Troy stared at the hatch, expecting it to open, but the door refused
to budge.  It must have been ten mili-centons since they left the
Galactica----he could feel the return of gravity caused by the rapid
acceleration.  Normally he would enjoy passing the time chatting with
Dillon, but he kept babbling on about Mark Twain.
     ?I remember Susan telling me about Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn,?
said Dillon, ?but I don?t remember the details. I should have read more
Mark Twain and less Sharky Star-Rover.?
     Troy frowned. ?Are you trying to recall a book by Twain, a short
story, or one of his essays??
     ?I wasn?t thinking about Mark Twain at all,? admitted Dillon, ?until
Mollary mentioned it at the memorial service. And now this man quoted
Mark Twain.?
     ?The quote Varton gave, about reports of his death being greatly
exaggerated, seems to be of some great importance to the Earth people. 
Anybody from the United States of America would be likely to say that, if
they were mistakenly accused of being dead.  I hate to ask, but what
exactly did Mollary say about Mark Twain??
     ?Only that I would enjoy the service more if I was up on Mark
Twain.?  He gave Troy a quizzical frown.
     ?Okay,? said the captain, ?let me think about that. What could he
mean?  I think Susan said the most famous scene from Twain is one where
Tom Sawyer gets his friends to whitewash the picket fence. Then you?ve
got?what was his name----Injun Joe----chasing them around the cave, and
the scenes with Polly, but I don?t see how that would relate to our
investigation.  In Huck Finn, there are the scenes along the river, but
that doesn?t have anything to do with a funeral.?
     Troy caught his breath.  ?Wait!  I just remembered----there is a
funeral scene.  The one where Tom and Huck watch their own funeral!?
     ?What did you say?? asked Dillon.
     ?There?s a scene where Tom and Huck watch their own funeral,?
repeated Troy.  He stared at Dillon. ?By all that?s holy!  Good buddy, it
sounds to me like Mollary was trying to tell you something.?
     ?What??
     Troy?s eyes widened.  ?That Ambassador Kar is still alive!?
     ?I couldn?t find his body out there,? the lieutenant whispered. 
?But the sudden way he left, piloting solo----everybody?s been thinking
about how weird that was.   You know, if Kar was willing to risk a space
walk and had an accomplice to open an air-lock for him, he could?ve put
the ship on auto-pilot and gotten off before it left.  But why would Kar
stage his own death?  The data crystal was real, wasn?t it??
     ?This is too crazy,? muttered Troy, rubbing his eyes.  ?But a man
who fears for his life will do crazy things.  You know, it seemed awfully
easy the way I found that crystal, like he wanted me to find it.?
     Before Troy could say any more, the hatch opened and Tok strode into
the transport section.  He was smiling like a cultured host, but the
warrior wondered what secrets he was hiding behind that ridged forehead. 
Calm down, Troy told himself; he already knew not to base suppositions on
anything Mollary said.  Just because a couple of people quoted a famous
Earth author didn?t mean anything....it was probably a coincidence. 
Varton?s use of that quote was reasonable, considering somebody had just
accused him of being dead when he was clearly alive.
     That brought up even more questions, such as, could they really
trust Varton?  What were the mysterious conditions under which he left
the Borella and was reported dead?  For that matter, what they hell were
they doing on this Nomen shuttle?  Troy looked down at Varton and Toth,
still chatting as if they were old friends at an ambrosa party.
     ?We have a flight of two-hundred and twenty mili-centons until
docking with the Borella,? explained Tok.  ?If you have any suggestions
as to how we may make your ride even more comfortable, I would like to
hear them now.  Oh, I almost forgot....?
     The Nomen dignitary tapped a panel button and a whoosh of hydraulics
sounded as their restraints lifted automatically.  Troy helped Dillon to
his feet, and the lieutenant still looked stunned by his suspicions. 
     ?Don?t say anything about it for now,? he whispered.
     Varton waved to them.  ?Didn?t I tell you that Nomen hospitality was
the best?  What do you think of our hosts so far??
     ?They?ve treated me well,? said Troy, striding down the aisle with a
big smile on his face.  ?In fact, I?d love to have a tour of the
shuttle.?
     ?Oh, put me down for a tour as well,? said Varton.?
     Toth cast a disgusted look at the two humans.  ?I should remind you
that this isn?t a leisure craft.  The next thing you?ll be wanting is an
aquacade.?
     Troy glanced back at Dillon.  ?On good advice, I did bring my
swimming trunks.?
     Tok cleared his throat.  ?A tour is not out of the question.  We
only have three decks.  As you can see, we put the passenger section here
on the top deck by the outer hatch, allowing passengers to exit first. 
Outside this hatch is an access tube, and you?ll have to use the ladder. 
The gravity effect can be tricky on a ladder, so watch your step.?
     They followed the Nomen into the access tube, only to see him grasp
the handrail of the ladder and leap down through a hatch in the deck,
landing smartly on the top rung.  Varton rushed to take the position
behind the captain, bombarding him with questions.  Dillon climbed down
after them, his lithe body moving gracefully in the lighter than normal
gravity.  Troy hung back, hoping to grab the rear position, but Toth
stood firm.
     ?You go first,? the Nomen female insisted.
     ?Whatever you say,? said Troy, grabbing the handrail and dropping
through the hole in the deck.  He wondered if he dared to trust the Nomen
attache with their suspicions about Kar.  They had no proof, just a
literary allusion from a troublemaking aristocrat.  But they had no body
either.  No, he decided, Toth wouldn?t give much credence to anything
Mollary said, and neither should he.  He had to convince himself that Kar
was still alive before he could try to convince anyone else.
     If such a thing could be true, did the Nomen on the Shanavas know
about it?  And where was Kar?
     They climbed down the ladder and stepped off into a cramped and
darkened cockpit, illuminated only by lights from monitors and instrument
panels.  A reddish glow permeated everything, including Tar and  the
stoic Nomen who was presently serving as her co-pilot.   Their eyes
gleamed at the passengers for a split second, then turned back to their
monitors.  Troy could see Dillon peering over Tar?s shoulder, trying to
make sense of the orange figures that danced across her screen.
     ?The cockpit,? said Tok simply.  He motioned to a set of
interlocking, plated doors behind them.  ?Through those doors are
weaponry and engineering.  For efficiency, all utilities are on one
deck.?
     ?Wouldn?t that make them easy for a Cylon attack squadron to take
out?? asked Dillon.
     ?Not at all,? answered Tok.  ?We are shielded by upper and lower
decks.  The cockpit, weaponry, and engineering are in separate modules,
each with its own power and life support.  The cockpit can be totally
sealed off from the rest of the ship.?
     ?Great design!? said Varton.  ?I have always admired Nomen
workmanship and planning.?
     Tok nodded at the compliment.  ?We have learned much in a short
time.?  He motioned back down the ladder.  ?Right this way, please, to
the crew quarters, mess hall, and latrines.?
     This time, Troy accepted his place in line, descending after Dillon,
with Toth above him.  He was beginning to feel trapped in the confines of
the tiny craft, as if there were no place to go.  In truth, there was no
place to go.  He realized why he preferred giant starships to tiny
spacecraft.
     The ladder came to an end on a bare deck in the intersection of two
corridors, leaving them with a choice of four directions to travel.  In
one direction, the smell of meaty food and the presence of large metallic
doors made it clear which corridor led to the galley.  Another walkway
was marked with the universal symbols for sanitary facilities, and there
were Nomen crewmembers loitering farther down.  The other two corridors
were lined with small hatchways, apparently leading to the crew?s
quarters.
     Tok explained, ?Our cabins are designed for two crewmembers, but we
don?t mind sharing.  However, we are divided according to sex, with women
in one cabin and men in another.?
     ?A most sensible arrangement,? commented Toth. ?You Colonials should
seriously consider it.?
     Troy looked glumly at Varton and said, ?Must be pretty miserable for
two Nomen to be roommates.?
     ?Not really.  They?re heavy sleepers,? grinned Varton. ?Once their
heads hit their pillows, they?re dead to the galaxy.?
     Troy pretended to listen as the captain described the dinnertime
customs of his people, but he was really trying to figure out how he
could avoid going back to his seat.  He wanted to take a look around
first.....by himself.
     ?Excuse me, I have to use the turbo-flush,? said Troy, striding down
the corridor that led to the latrines.  Nobody came after him, he noticed
with relief, and he slipped inside the automatic doors.  Troy leaned
against the bulkhead for a moment, thinking that he would simply walk out
and make a wrong turn.  That might buy him a few minutes of unimpeded
exploration.
     He got a whiff of strong antiseptic odor that almost made him gag. 
He glanced at the facilities, which were encased in a gleaming,
copperlike metal; salmon-colored lighting added to the rosy effect.  The
turbo-flushes were recessed into the wall to form a suction with the air
system and allow use during weightlessness.  To Troy, they looked like
ancient torture devices right out of the Era of Darkness.
     Thinking that he had given himself enough time, the warrior walked
out the door and turned left instead of right, strolling along the
corridor like an absentminded tourist.  Although Tok didn?t come after
him, he quickly realized that this would be a short walk, because the two
robed Nomen he had spotted at the end of the corridor were armed with
laser-boles, suggesting that they were not loiterers, but guards.  As he
walked toward them, they slapped their hands to their bandoliers in a
manner that could not be called friendly.
     Beyond them there was a small hatchway.  Troy could only conclude
that they were guarding it.  Why?  Since there was no one on the shuttle
but the regular crew and the four passengers, he had to assume they were
guarding it from the passengers.  Blithley, he stuck his hands in his
uniform pockets and ambled toward the guards.
     ?Halt!? one of them shouted, threatening to draw his laser-bole
against Troy.
     ?Whoa there!? said the warrior with a friendly smile.  ?I just took
a wrong turn.  Where?s Tok??
     The robed Nomen pointed the other way down the short corridor.
     ?Gotcha.?  Then Troy asked innocently, ?Where does that door go??
     ?That?s one of our spare closets. It does not concern you.?
     ?Troy!? called a disapproving voice from the other end of the
corridor.  The warrior turned to see Toth glaring at him.
     He waved to the dour guards and rejoined his fellow passengers at
the intersection of one of the corridors.  ?What were you doing??
     ?Going to the turbo-flush. Then I turned the wrong way, I guess.? 
He smiled at Tok.  ?Keeping something valuable in that spare closet, are
you??
     The aristocrat?s eyes narrowed, the veins on his ridged forehead
pulsed slightly.  ?We Nomen consider everything we possess to be
valuable.  I regret the need for guards, but there are thieves and
vagabonds lurking among the Fleet?s population.  I cannot bee too
careful.?
     ?I see,? said Troy.  ?Did I miss anything important??
     ?I was merely explaining our food and dining customs,? said the
Nomen.  ?I also apologized for the lack of in-flight amusements.?
     ?Don?t worry about it,? said Troy pleasantly.  ?I don?t think we?ll
be bored.?
     Tok continued.  ?The cabins my mate and I stay in are the two at the
end of the corridor.  Tar stays in the one on the starboard side, as do
all the other female Nomen crewmembers.  Now, if you will excuse me, I
must get in touch with the Borella?s captain regarding your
accommodations.?
     Once again Toth demonstrated how to be a good passenger as she set
off at a brisk walk back to the passenger section.  Troy fell into step
alongside Dillon, but, unfortunately, so did Varton.?
     ?The in-flight meal will be served in forty-five centons,? Varton
said cheerfully.
     Troy looked pointedly at Dillon, making it clear that he had
something he wanted to talk about.  But should he, without bringing Toth,
Varton, or both of them into his confidence?
     ?I think we?ll be seeing a lot of each other, Captain,? said Varton,
making it sound like a threat.
     Troy nodded at his chubby companion, wondering if he had been wrong
to bring the stranger on this trip.  But Varton seemed to know how to
insinuate himself into the Nomen?s good graces, and that was a useful
thing to learn. Besides, they had a daunting task ahead of them....trying
to negotiate a strange shipload of stubborn Nomen.  How could they be any
worse off with Varton along?

*********************************

CHAPTER 8
YOU CAN ONLY RUN SO FAR FROM YOURSELF

     Commander Adama looked at the elderly Nomen sitting before him in
one of the Galactica?s detentions cells.  Paba managed to look defiant
and guilty at the same time.  Krumst stood by, slapping a billy club
against his palm with loud whacks.  Adama would never allow a prisoner to
be beaten, but maybe the Nomen didn?t know that.  At any rate, nothing
else they had said or done had had any effect on the prisoner.  He had
adamantly refused to say anything, other than his name and his story
about going broke.
     ?You might as well make this easy on yourself, sir,? said Adama
sternly.  ?We know you were involved in an attack on one of our warriors. 
Why don?t you tell us why?  What were you trying to hide??
     The Nomen glared at the humans.  ?Do with me what you will.?
     Krumst moved toward him threateningly.  ?He?s asking for it,
Captain.  Let me treat this piece of daggit waste the same way he treated
the sarge.?  
     Adama waved Krumst back.  ?I would rather not, as I believe Paba
will realize that he could spend an awfully long time on the prison barge
if he refuses to cooperate.?
     The Nomen smiled.  ?Yes, I have heard all about your prison barge. 
It holds no terror for me. I am well accustomed to hardship.?
     Krumst glared at him. ?Where is your accomplice??
     Paba shrugged.  ?I don?t know who you?re talking about.?
     ?Moc,? answered Krumst.  ?What happened to him??
     The Nomen crossed his arms defiantly.  Commander Adama was about to
give up and stick the elderly Nomen in a holding cell until Blitz was
well enough to identify him, when a warrior appeared at the window.
     ?Talia is here,? said his amplified voice.
     ?Show her in,? ordered Adama.
     Paba looked a bit ill at ease as the attractive telepath was
escorted into the holding cell.  She gazed thoughtfully at the Nomen and
said, ?I don?t suppose he?s told you anything.?
     ?Nothing,? answered Adama.  ?Do you think you can scan him??
     ?I could try,? she answered, ?but I haven?t had much success with
Borellian Nomen in the past.?  She began to remove the glove from her
right hand.  ?When I start, would you ask him questions to focus his
mind??
     Krumst grabbed the Nomen?s arm and pinned it to the armrest of his
chair. He struggled a bit, but the burly security officer was much
stronger than the elderly Nomen.  The telepath touched Paba?s hand and
instantly recoiled, as if receiving an electric shock.  But she bravely
resumed the contact, although she swayed uncertainly on her feet.
     ?Why did you attack the officer?? asked Adama.
     The Nomen flinched and tried to remove his hand, but Krumst held it
firmly.  ?Where is Moc?? demanded the commander.
     ?Leave me alone!? the Nomen growled.
     ?Does this have anything to do with Kar?? asked Adama.
     With that question, Talia?s back stiffened, and a grimace distorted
her lovely face.  She yanked her hand away from the Nomen?s wrist.
     ?Are you all right?? asked Adama.
     ?Yes,? she said, rubbing her forehead.  ?This definitely has
something to do with Kar.  In fact, I think he thought of Kar with every
question you asked.  I won?t want to swear to it, but I have a feeling
that he thinks Kar is alive.?
     ?Bah!? scoffed the Nomen.  ?This woman is insane!?
     Adama studied Paba.  In a centon of questioning, that was the only
charge he had bothered to refute.  ?All right,? said the commander, ?it?s
time to contact the Nomen Council.?
     ?No!? snapped Paba. ?If you do that, you will put lives in danger.?
     ?Whose lives?? Adama demanded.
     The Nomen crossed his arms and closed his eyes, apparently done
talking.
     Adama?s lips thinned with anger.  ?Keep him locked up in here until
we get Dillon and Troy back safely.  No visitors, no protectors, no
nothing.?
     ?Yes, sir,? answered Krumst, slapping the billy club into his palm.

****************************************

     ?I think it?s time to see what they?re keeping in that spare
closet,?Troy whispered across to Dillon.
     ?We don?t want to start an incident,? Dillon whispered back. ?Let?s
just get through this ordeal and stop thinking that Kar is alive. Two
quotes from Mark Twain don?t make much difference against a Blood Hunt
and a plasma explosion.?
     Toth glared at them.  ?You two have disappointed me.  I thought I
knew you, but since you came aboard you have acted like prisoners trying
to escape from a jail.  Have you no sense of decorum?  You have
undertaken this mission to honor Kar, not to indulge in petty suspicions
or plots.?
     Troy looked at Toth for a moment, then turned back to Dillon.  ?I?m
going to tell her.?
     ?Go head,? said Dillon, anxious to watch the attache?s reaction.
     Troy lowered his voice to say, ?We suspect that Kar isn?t
dead----that he faked his death.?
     Toth recoiled as if she had seen the Nomen equivalent of a ghost. 
?You are jesting.?
     ?I don?t jest about stuff like that,? Troy answered.  ?I?m not going
to tell you that we have any proof, and I?m not going to tell you who
tipped us off....but I am going to tell you that they?re hiding something
on this shuttle.  And you know that as well as I do.?
     A Nomen crewmember entered the passenger section and glanced
suspiciously at the conference going on in there.  Troy laughed at
nothing.  The crewmember turned to the hatch and left.
     Toth looked back at her human companions.  ?Why would Kar fake his
death??
     ?Maybe because people have been trying to kill him,? said Dillon. 
?You didn?t tell us about the first attempt, and he didn?t tell you about
the second attempt. And now it?s turned into a full-blooded Blood Hunt.?
     Toth looked from one side of the passenger compartment to the other. 
?Yes, the Blood Hunt is a serious threat.  Do you think Kar is alive and
aboard this shuttle??
     ?Look at it this way,? Troy answered, ?his personal transport
explodes, leaving no body.  Mira?s data crystal is left conveniently on
his desk.  The Shanavas happens to be in the neighborhood, less than four
mili-centons away.  And no one can explain why Kar returned to the
Borella, or why he chose to go alone.?
     Dillon frowned and lowered his voice.  ?Everything happened so fast,
we didn?t have time to think of that on the Galactica, but now we do. 
Would his mind work like that, faking his death to deal with the Blood
Trail??
     Toth narrowed her eyes.  ?Yes, I could see him reaching that
conclusion....?
     Troy motioned toward the hatch.  ?There are two guys down there,
guarding a spare closet.  Do you think you could find out what?s in it? 
Maybe ask around.?
     ?I believe in the direct approach.? Toth practically exploded out of
her seat and strode toward the hatch. ?Follow.?
     And down they went again through  the access tube, hand over hand,
rung over rung, until they reached the little corridor where the crew?s
quarters and closets were.
     As the muscular Nomen turned the corner and strode toward the
guards, Dillon stopped at the intersection, motioned Troy back, then
peered around the corner to see what was happening.
     The guards were apparently not threatened by Toth?s approach.  Their
laser-boles remained on their bandoliers as they ambled forward to meet
her.  She waved pleasantly and stopped to engage them in conversation. 
It appeared as if she asked for something, because one of them dropped
his hands to his sides, searching the pockets of his robe.  The other one
laughed loudly at something she said.  While one guard was laughing and
the other one was searching, she lashed out with a wicked jab that caught
the guard?s laughter in the throat.  She swung her fist around, catching
the other one in the mouth.
     By the time Dillon and Troy ran down the corridor to help, Toth had
knocked both guards to the deck.  There wasn?t anything left to do but
grab them and hold them before they could alert Tok.  While Dillon and
Troy wrestled with the guards, Toth wrapped their bandoliers around her
trunk and threatened to draw and hurl them at her fellow Nomen.
     ?You have no idea what you?re doing, woman!? insisted a guard.
     ?I think I do,? she replied calmly.  ?Lieutenant, check the closet.?
     Dillon leaped to his feet and pressed the outer panel to open the
hatch.  The door slid open, revealing a cramped access tube and a ladder
descending into darkness.  The lieutenant had a feeling that he only had
but a few microns, so he swung down the ladder and proceeded to jump from
rung to rung.  He landed in a darkened room with a low ceiling and a few
sticks of furniture.  The only light was from a handful of candles.
     ?Who?s there?? called a startled voice.  It was a voice he
recognized.
     The Nomen sat up in his bed and stared at him, his eyes glowing as
brightly as the candles in the room.  ?Oh, it?s you.?
     ?You?re looking well,? said Dillon, ?for a corpse.?
     Above them came the sound of angry voices and a strangle.  Kar rose
to his feet and bellowed, ?It?s all right!  I am coming up!  Don?t harm
them.?
     He looked at Dillon.  ?I have meditated about what to do. I am glad
you decided for me.?
     Kar grabbed the ladder and started climbing upward.  Dillon
scrambled after him, and he reached the upper deck just in time to see
him step into the corridor and confront Troy, Toth, Tok, and half-a-dozen
armed crewmembers.  Without so much as a hello, Toth stepped forward and
punched the ambassador in the stomach.
     He doubled over, and spittle drooled from his mouth.  Two
crewmembers grabbed Toth, but Kar waved them off and croaked.  ?Leave her
be.  I deserved that.?
     ?You certainly did!? said Toth.  ?I have never heard of an action so
despicable and cowardly.  I will see your name stricken from the Nomen
roster for this!?
     ?It is not cowardly to want to live,? he said, still gripping his
stomach.  ?Would you like to go through life always looking over your
shoulder?  Wondering when the next murder attempt will come?  Wondering
if it will be the last??
     He looked at Tok and his crew. ?Leave us now, Tok.  You have
fulfilled your debt to me.  I should have known that I could not fool
these people....they know me too well.?
     ?Are you certain of that?? asked Tok.
     ?Yes,? said Kar. ?I will explain to them how I involved you on short
notice as a debt of honor.?
     Tok motioned to his crew, and they followed him to the intersection
and up the ladder.
     Troy crossed his arms.  ?Kar, you?ve got a lot of explaining to do. 
First of all, was that data crystal for real??
     ?Absolutely.  That?s what drove me to these desperate measures.
That, and the dreams I have of the last murder attempt.?
     He turned to Toth.  ?Even you do not know about that one.  It
occurred when I returned to the Borella to speak at the Illuminated Path. 
I was ambushed by hired assassins and nearly killed.  I hushed it up, for
obvious reasons.?  Kar narrowed his eyes at her.
     ?It is all right,? said Toth. ? They know.  When Captain Troy found
the data crystal, I had to explain to them about the Rog family.?
     ?Everything??
     ?Yes,? said Dillon, ?including the way you falsely accused Rog of
selling arms to your enemies.  You destroyed a whole family just to do a
little social climbing.?
     Kar lifted his chin, and the old arrogance returned.  ?Seceding to
the Third Circle is more than a little social climbing.  But that is in
the past, and there is nothing I can do to change it.  Believe me, I have
suffered for my sins.  I thought Rog would be temporarily disgraced.....I
never dreamt that he would be thrown off the Council and his family
stripped of their wealth and rank.  When Rog sent the first assassin,
Toth saved me.  I thought that was the end of it, not the beginning of
something worse.
     Dillon shook his head in amazement.  ?How did you expect to pull
this off?  How were you going to come back from the dead?  Say it was all
a dream??
     Kar scoffed.  ?That was the simplest part of my plan.  I would be
found in an escape pod, a survivor after all. These things happen in the
wilderness of space....people are found alive after being presumed dead. 
As long as I return to the living before the official period of mourning
is over, I can reclaim my ambassadorship, my property, everything.   You
were the only witnesses to the explosion.....everyone else heard about it
second hand.  I assumed they would believe my story, and that you would
be glad to have me back.?
     ?You assume too much,? said Troy.  ?So let?s get this shuttle turned
around get back to the Galactica.?
     ?No.? Kar shook his head firmly.  ?The danger is still real.  Mira,
Kog, Het----these people have vowed to kill me!  They have given up on
assassins and have pledged to kill me with their own hands.?  He turned
to Toth.  ?Did you explain to them about The Code??
     ?I tried, but they had a difficult time understanding, especially
Commander Adama.  What were you going to do?  Kill them yourself, or have
me kill them??
     Kar stiffened his broad shoulders.  ?It is still my duty to attend
to this problem.  I am sorry you were involved, but you have been ordered
to appear before the Nomen Council, and you must do so.  I hope that will
give me enough time.?
     ?No,? said Dillon.  ?We?re not going to stand by and watch you or
anyone else commit murder.  Isn?t there some other way you can mend
things with these people??
     Kar scowled and shook his fists at the ceiling, as if he were
dealing with children.  ?Why don?t you meet the Rog family, and then you
can tell me how to deal with them.  As far as Mira is concerned, I think
a blade to the throat is the only option, but I am willing to be talked
out of it.?
     Toth shook his head.  ?The danger to his life is very real.  If we
do nothing, they will come to your battlestar and try to fulfill the
Blood Hunt.?
     ?All right,? said Dillon.  ?I am willing to meet with them,
unofficially, and warn them against ever coming to the Galactica to cause
trouble.  I think that?s about all we can do.?  He looked at Kar.  ?But
you have to agree to come back to life.?
     ?Of course,? said the ambassador.  ?Do you think I want to remain a
nonentity?  I would prefer that we wait until our return to the
Galactica, so that I can be discovered alive in the escape pod.  While
I?m on the Borella, I will wear a disguise.?
     Troy laughed. ?A disguise?  Give me a break.?
     ?It fooled you.?
     ?What?? said Troy.
     ?Yes, I passed you this morning in Down Below.  I was wearing the
crude robe of an acolyte of the Eighth Circle.  You looked right at me.?
     ?By all that?s holy.  That was you??
     ?None other.?
     Dillon shook her head.  ?The whole purpose of this trip is to meet
with your Council.  We?re not going to lie to them about you being dead.?
     ?Please,? said Kar, ?don?t lie to them, but don?t tell them that I
accompanied you on this ship.  If you want to say you have new evidence
that I may be alive, so be it, but give me a chance to move freely.  Give
me at least a day.?
     He gazed at him.  ?Will you try to kill her??
     ?Not if you are with me,? the Nomen promised.
     ?Wait a centon,? said Troy.  ?There was an attack on one of my men
in Down Below.  Did you have something to do with that??
     ?I have a disguise,? insisted Kar, ?complete with identicard.  I
have no need to attack anyone.?
     They heard a sound, and the turned to see a crewmember drop off the
ladder into the intersection.  He glanced suspiciously at them for a
moment, then went down another corridor.
     ?There are dangers other than the Rog family,? said Kar in a low
voice.  ?The Rog family may be the loudest vocal of my enemies, but they
are not the only ones.  I thought being dead would give me freedom, but
instead it has made me a prisoner.?
     ?Yeah,? said Troy, ?it?s not much of a crime to kill a man who?s
already dead.?
     The Nomen started back into the hatch, and then turned around.  ?I
will not see you again until we reach the Borella.  Believe me when I say
that it means a great deal to have you here, willing to help me.?
     ?We?re not promising anything,? said Dillon.  ?There may be nothing
we can do.?
Kar smiled.  ?At least I am not facing them alone.? He ducked through the
hatch and slammed it shut behind him.

*************************************

     The in-flight meal they all ate in the little galley consisted of
some rather evil-smelling meat simmering in a greasy gruel.  The Nomen
used their fingers to eat, shoveling the food directly from their bowls
into their mouths, but they gave their guests some tarnished spoons. 
Troy sampled some of the gruel and pushed the meat around in his bowl,
while Varton dug in and ate with considerable gusto.  The trader even
used his fingers to eat in the Nomen fashion.  Dillon drank a lot of java
and smiled a lot, but didn?t eat much.  The Colonists were seated at a
table with Toth, Tok, his mate and pilot, Tar, and the cultural attache,
Gur.
     ?Delicious teloth!? Varton announced, liking his fingers.  ?My
compliments to your cook. Oh, I have missed the Nomen cooking....the
pungent spices, the zesty meats, the crunchy grains....it is truly the
tastiest food in the fleet.?
     Tok beamed.  ?And we?ll be having green ugawath for dessert.?
     Varton clapped his hands.  ?Ugawath!  Superb!  Made from fresh
tripe??
     ?Naturally,? answered Tok.
     The trader slapped his palms on the table.  ?Mr. Tok, can?t we add
another centon or a few extra mili-centons onto our jaunt??
     Tok chuckled.  ?I?m afraid not.  You have a memorial service to
attend.?
     Thus far, noted Troy, nobody had mentioned the fact that Kar was
actually alive and well in one of the shuttle?s spare closets.  He didn?t
know how many of the Nomen knew about it, but he suspected that all of
them did.  It was as if Kar had come down with some terrible illness that
nobody could bring themselves to discuss.  Of course, Varton didn?t know
Kar was alive, but he was probably the only one on the entire shuttle.
     ?Tripe for dessert?? asked Dillon doubtfully.
     ?Sure,? said Varton.  ?You have to marinate it in pacoberry juice
overnight.  At least, that is the traditional method.  It?s tasty and
pleasantly chewy.?
     Dillon gulped.  ?I think I just lost my appetite.?
     ?I didn?t,? said Varton, going after another handful of teloth.
     Troy thought it was time to broach a subject he?d been wondering
about.  ?Mr. Tok,? he asked, ?are you planning to wait for us, then take
us back to the Galactica??
     The Nomen fixed him with a meaningful gaze.  ?The Shanavas is at
your disposal for as long as you need her.  We will remain in the launch
bay until your stay on the Borella is concluded.?
     ?Okay,? said Troy, feeling a bit better about things.  He didn?t
want to be stuck on the Borella for sectans, waiting to find a public
transport headed for the Galactica.  On the othe hand, he knew that Tok
owed his allegiance to Kar and the Nomen Council, not to the fleet as a
whole.  If they wanted to leave and Kar wanted to stay, they could be
stuck.
     Troy rubbed his eyes, wondering how he had managed to get sucked
into this situation.  Preventing a murder, especially that of one of the
ambassadors to the Council of Twelve, was a noble goal, but how much hope
did they have?  The Nomen themselves were oblivious to murder when a
Blood Hunt was involved, so maybe this was an exercise in futility.  What
would the Rog family do when they found out they had been duped and Kar
was still alive?  For that matter, what would Commander Adama do?
     He looked up to find Toth studying him.  ?Captain Troy, you haven?t
eaten much.?
     ?I don?t think I feel too well,? he answered, holding his stomach. 
He looked at Tok.  ?May I be excused??
     ?Certainly, Captain Troy.  I understand. It?s been a stressful
time.?
     ?No kidding,? said the warrior, rising to his feet. ?I?ll see you
later.?
     ?May I have your teloth?? asked Varton cheerfully.
     ?Sure, Varton, knock yourself out.?
     Troy nodded to the crewmembers in the galley and shuffled out.   As
the access tube to the passenger section was on the same deck, it was a
short walk, but he still had to pass the corridor that led to the spare
closet.  The guards were back on duty, and they gazed resentfully at him,
perhaps because he had already had the in-flight meal and they hadn?t. Or
maybe they knew their watch was pointless, because the secret was out. 
At any rate, he saluted them and mounted the first rung to the passenger
section.
     The warrior was lounging in his seat in the passenger section when
his fellow traveler came up.  Varton announced his presence with a loud
burp, then began to rummage around in his tote bag.
     ?Feeling better, Troy?? he asked.
     ?Yeah.  How was the teloth??
     ?Actually, not as good as they serve on the Borella, but what can
you expect from a galley cook?  I didn?t tell Tok that, of course.?
     ?Of course,? said Troy.  ?What are you looking for??
     ?We still have thirty-some mili-centons to travel, don?t we?  As a
rule, Nomen only eat twice a day, so we have to have something to pass
the time.  Ah, here it is!?
     He produced a small cardboard box.  ?My card deck.  What?s your
game?  Up-and-Down?  Sunspot?  Naw, you look like a pyramid player to me. 
I?m afraid I haven?t got enough cubits to do much gambling, but maybe the
Nomen have some matchsticks.?
     Troy frowned at his colorful companion.  ?Am I going to regret
bringing you along on this little commute??
     Varton grew thoughtful for a moment.  ?I have to be true to myself,
Captain Troy.  The Nomen have a saying----?you can only run so far from
yourself.?  I?ve always thought that was a way of saying that we have to
face up to the consequences of our actions.?
     ?What consequences do you have to face?? asked Troy.
     The portly man smiled and held up the deck of cards.  ?Shall we
start with sunspot??

*************************

CHAPTER 9
THE NO-MAN*S ZONE

     The Nomen shuttle plunged into the gaping maw of the Borella?s
landing bay.  Troy looked forward to get a better look. Despite an entire
career spent fighting Cylons and braving hostile planets, foreign
spacecraft just didn?t seem to be his cup of tea.  He gawked while
Varton, for instance, fell asleep across the aisle from him.
     Dillon and Toth sat in the front row, conversing in low tones.  They
were probably discussing how they should behave at the memorial service
when they knew perfectly well the deceased wasn?t deceased.  He guessed
they would spend a lot of time looking grim and nodding somberly.
     True to Kar?s word, they hadn?t seen him since their first
forty-five mili-centons on the Nomen shuttlecraft.  The captain hoped
that Kar had sense enough to stay on the Shanavas and not go looking for
trouble on the Borella, even with his disguise.  Troy rubbed his hands
nervously.  It felt funny to be arriving on a foreign spacecraft,
unarmed.
     The Borella itself was an ancient, puny, and shiningly shocking
spacecraft. Her command and flight decks were at the tail end and the
engines were set at the ship's bow.  Her overall shape was quietly
square.  She had some weapons but they were capable of nothing
spectacular and used shortrange missiles.  The only remarkable thing
about the Borella was the fact that her engines were hidden. 
     Suddenly, the Shanavas slowed significantly, affording Troy his
first view of the interior of the Borella.  The landing bay had a
washed-out color, not the vibrant golds, whites, and blues of the
Galactica?s landing bays.  He wondered whether that had anything to do
with the intense red artificial lighting that simulated Borella?s giant
red sun for the benefit of the ship?s passengers and crew.
     The Borella wasn?t quite as lean as the Galactica, but it was hardly
a luxury liner.  And he was looking at only one part of the freighter.
     Varton blinked awake beside him.  ?Are we there yet?? he muttered.
     ?We?re on final approach to the Borella, if that?s what you mean??
answered Troy.  ?But I don?t know what part of the ship we?ll be going to
first.?
     ?Hecba Section is quite a lovely place,? said the trader.  ?Kar used
to live there, I believe, although it?s also one of the most hospitable
areas for Colonists.  You know, the temperatures on this ship can
fluctuate wildly in the course of a single day.?
     Troy lifted the heavy coat from his lap.  ?I know.  But why should
Hecba Section be better than anywhere else on this tub??
     Varton smiled.  ?You?ll see.  By the way, since you owe me five
hundred thousand matchsticks, I expect you to buy me lunch.?
     ?I think those cards of yours were marked,? grumbled Troy. 
Nevertheless, he owed Varton something for making the time aboard the
Shanavas pass fairly swiftly.
     At the last moment, Tar made a perfect three-point-landing in the
center of the tarmac.  ?Welcome to the freighter Borella,? she said in a
flat voice over the shuttle?s intercom.  ?You will be disembarking in
Hecba Section.?
     The hatch opened with a clank, and a blast of scorching air flooded
the shuttle.  Within microns, Troy was bathed in sweat, and his lungs
felt as if they were on fire.  He groaned out loud.
     Dillon rose slowly to his feet and stretched her arms.  ?Time to
change into your swimming trunks,? he told Troy.
     ?No kidding,? he muttered. ?Feels like a Tauran sauna.?
     ?On the contrary,? said Varton, ?this is quite pleasant.?  The
portly man was dripping in sweat, but then he was always dripping in
sweat.  ?Make sure you drink fluids whenever you have the chance.?
     Toth was the first out of the craft, followed by Varton, who seemed
to be in an exuberant mood.  Dillon and troy staggered out after them. 
An immense steel wall erupted as if out of the tarmac before them, lined
with a honeycomb of hatchways.
     ?Our ship?s internal architecture is based largely on the primeval
cliff dwellings of the first Nomen,? said Toth, as if reading his mind. 
?We are descended from a species of primate that clung to the rocks, and
many of our people prefer to do exactly that.?  She pointed upward. 
?Several levels up are the agricultural stations,? she continued.  ?We
prefer not to depend on the livestock ship or the agroships for our
sustenance.?
     ?I doubt if I?ll be going all the way to the top,? said Troy with a
gulp.
     Varton chuckled. ?You?ll want to go up there once the environmental
systems start cooling down Hecba Section.?
     Troy splashed the sweat from his brow. ? They can start the cooling
anytime, as far as I?m concerned.?
     ?Come,? said Toth, leading the way toward a staircase with a
wrought-iron railing.  Varton walled eagerly after her, leaving Troy and
Dillon to bring up the rear. 
     Dillon raised an eyebrow.  ?It?s a nice ship to visit, but I
wouldn?t want to live on it.?
     ?Personally, I don?t think it?s a nice ship to visit,? said Troy. 
?Send me to Earth every time.?
     He had to admit, though, that Hecba Section was fascinating.  The
Nomen apparently didn?t mind living like termites on a tree trunk,
because people swarmed along the narrow, death-defying catwalks that
spanned the internal atrium that formed a gap between the port and
starboard decks.  The Nomen glanced curiously at the humans whenever they
passed them in close proximity, but Troy saw a number of Colonists aboard
the freighter.  
     Toth stopped to study some markings etched into the steel of a
nearby bulkhead.  ?The sanctuary is on our side of the ship,? she said.
     Troy glanced at one of the catwalks.  ?Good.?
     In due course, they reached what seemed to be an older section of
the ship,  old storage shacks, probably intended for cargo, with facades
added later to afford privacy.  In the yawning mouth of one of  the
shacks, they saw a clutch of people who were milling about, waiting,
making strained small talk.  As the Galactican delegation approached,
Toth put her fist to her chest in the Nomen salute, and Varton did
likewise.
     An elderly Nomen in a raw sienna robe with a matte black belt
encircling his waist stepped forward to meet them.  He bowed formally. 
?We welcome our fellow space voyagers from the Battlestar Galactica,
friends of Kar.?
     ?It is our honor,? said Varton with a bow.  ?You are Temar of the
Second Circle.?
     ?I am he,? said the Nomen with surprise.  ?Where do you know me
from??
     ?From the Blood of the Martyrs Ceremony.  You gave the convocation
there,? explained Varton.  ?That was many yahrens ago, but I have never
forgotten it.  My name is Varton.?
     Temar nodded, clearly impressed by the human?s memory and knowledge
of Nomen affairs.
     Toth broke in, ?Holy One, this is Lieutenant Dillon and Captain
Troy, from the Galactica?s famed Blue Squadron.?
     ?We are honored that you chose to bring us here,? said Dillon.
     ?We did not honor Kar when he was alive,? replied the priest.  ?It
is our duty to honor him now that he is gone.  We have a few
moments....permit me to show you the sanctuary.?
     Temar led them into the shack, and Troy was surprised to find that
it widened even more into a kind of cathedral.  The air felt several
degrees cooler inside, which was a welcome relief.  For a holy place, the
sanctuary was remarkably austere, with only a few weathered steel benches
for furnishings and laser torches for light.
     ?This is one of the most important chambers aboard our humble
spacecraft,? explained Temar, his voice echoing in the chamber.  ?When
the Borella was a space freighter, it was merely one of the many onboard
storage facilities that warehoused the  spices and minerals that our
people once exported to the Colonies.  It became a sanctuary some time
after the evacuation of Borella, in honor of an unknown Nomen that
endured the hardships of the first five yahrens of flight-----before he
ultimately starved to death.  All such places where Nomen have died in
space before we made our ship food self-sufficient have been given the
status of holy sites.?
     A young Nomen in a raw sienna robe came running up to Temar.  ?Holy
One, Mistresses Pac and Kal are here.?
     Temar nodded in acknowledgment, then turned to his guests. ?One more
thing....I have been instructed to tell you that a committee from the
Nomen Council will meet with you in two days? time.?
     ?Two days? time?? asked Troy. ?What?s the matter with right now?? 
The priest glared at him. ?I mean, after this??
     The old Nomen held up two fingers.  ?You will be our guests for two
more days.  Is it so bad??
     ?No, that?s fine,? said Dillon with a game smile.
     The priest nodded and strode through the crowd, somberly greeting
everyone he met.  When the aged Nomen was out of earshot, Dillon turned
to Toth.  ?Who are Pac and Kal??
     The Nomen woman lifted her chin. ?Pac is a member of the Inner
Circle.  It is a mark of considerable respect for Kar that she is
present.  Kal is....? She hesitated.  ?Kal is Kar?s widow.?
     ?Hmmmm,? murmured Troy.  He couldn?t say anything more because
Varton was standing a meter away, listening intently to their
conversation.  He wondered if Kal knew the truth about her late, lamented
husband.
     Mourners began to filter into the dingy recesses of the shack,
filling nook and cranny. Despite the crowd, it was cool and quiet inside
the sanctuary, and Troy began to feel an odd kind of peace.  He wasn?t
much given to religion or sentimentality, but he could almost feel the
presence of the long-departed Martyrs, granting their approval to this
solemn occasion.
     His reverie was short-lived, however, as acolytes in crude robes
began to move around the shack, sprinkling pungent incense on the laser
torches.  The young Nomen in the raw sienna robe began to bang on a
copper gong, and the chamber resonated with the metallic tone.  Then the
procession began.
     In the lead came Temar in his flowing robe, and he was holding a
bronze circle that was so old it was discolored with green and white
spots.  Very quietly he tapped the circle with a metal stick, and it
provided an odd counterpoint to the loud gong.  Behind Temar came a
plain-looking Nomen woman who was bare-breasted and wearing rags.  In
fact, she kept ripping away at her clothes as if they offended her.  Troy
felt embarrassed, but he couldn?t bring himself to turn away from the
sight of the distraught woman.  He knew without being told that she was
the widow, Kal.
     Behind the widow walked a regal woman with an attendant holding her
black robe off the dusty floor of the shack.  That must be the Nomen
nobility, thought Troy, Pac of the Inner Circle. Following her came
several robed Nomen, distinguished by their oversized headdresses.  The
procession circled the immense chamber, passing within a metron of the
Galacticans.  Troy felt himself getting angry at Kar----that ingrate
didn?t deserve the two fine memorial services he had gotten.  Coming back
from the dead was going to be anticlimatic after this.
     The procession moved toward the mouth of the shack, and the mourners
pressed forward, carrying Troy, Dillon, Toth, and Varton with them.  They
emerged into the scorching light of the atrium in time to see the
grieving widow toss her rags over the balcony rails.  They fluttered
downward, swirling around in the draughts from the hidden air vents.  
Then an acolyte handed her a small animal which looked something like a
piglet.  Kal held the squirming creature over her head and screamed
something into the wind.  Then she tossed the animal over the railing,
and it plummeted a kilometron or so to its death.
     Varton whispered in his ear. ?In the past, a Nomen widow was
expected to die with her husband.  Today, the animal dies instead.?
     An attendant came forward and wrapped a black robe around the
widow?s shoulders and led her away.  Temar beat on the discolored circle
while the other priest banged on the gong, and a low moan rose from the
gathered mourners.  The moaning and drumming reached a crescendo at the
same time, and Temar ended the ceremony by dropping to his knees and
bowing to the canyon.
     While Troy looked on in a daze, someone pulled urgently on the
sleeve of his flight jacket.  He turned to see Dillon, and he was
pointing toward someone in the crowd of mourners.  He saw a young Nomen
wrap a cloak around her slim body and dash away. He recognized her in an
instant.  
     It was Mira, daughter of Rog.
     ?Wait here,? he whispered to Dillon, stuffing his coat into her
arms.  Before he had a chance to answer, Troy shouldered his way through
the crowd and set off down one of the narrow catwalks.  His instincts
told him that he might not get another chance to talk to this avenging
angel, and he had two things to say: First, that he knew she didn?t kill
Kar, and second, that she had better stay away from the Galactica.  She?d
find out the reason for that warning later.
     Mira slipped through the crowd like a wraith, glancing over her
shoulder as if she knew she was being followed.  Troy staggered after her
like a man who knew if he lost his footing he would join the sacrificial
animal at the bottom of the canyon.  But he had an advantage in that the
Nomen on the balcony made way for him, realizing he was a stranger.
     At various intersections, the catwalk sloped downward to a lower
level of apartments, while steps continued upward to the original level. 
Without hesitation, Mira went lower at every opportunity, and Troy
plunged after her.  His uniform was soaking with sweat, and thirst burned
in his throat....but this young Nomen had threatened to kill her people?s
ambassador to the Council of Twelve.  Had she come to the memorial
service to make sure Kar was truly dead?  It didn?t matter....he was
aboard an unfamiliar ship, and this was the one person he wanted to talk
to the most.  He wasn?t going to lose this opportunity.
     Suddenly, he realized he couldn?t see Mira anymore.  She had
escaped.  He quickened his pace and found himself on a stretch of catwalk
where many doorways were blocked off with heavy shipping crates and
pedestrians were few.  He tried not to look over the narrow railing at
the certain death that waited below.  His senses were acutely on edge,
and he saw the boot whip out of the doorway a microsecond before it
struck him in the knee.
     Troy yelped with pain and stumbled toward the abyss.  He grabbed the
railing, pushed off, and fell hard onto his back; a knife flashed through
the air.  He caught her arm as the dagger kissed his throat.  The young
Nomen woman fought like a warrior, using every ounce of her wiry body to
drive the knife home.  He couldn?t help it if she was pretty.....he
smashed her in the jaw with his fist and sent her crashing against the
steel wall plating.  He heard her grunt as the air rushed out of her
body, but she still had enough strength to draw a blaster and level it at
him.
     ?Don?t!? he warned, trying to sound calm.  ?I just want to talk.?
     Her corseted chest heaved as she struggled to regain her breath, and
her hazelnut eyes drilled into him with hatred and suspicion.  Troy had
seen enough hoodlums to know when he was confronting someone with nothing
left to lose.  Mira had been kicked around so much in the last few
yahrens that she didn?t care about life anymore.  She only cared about
death.  He could plainly see the yellowish scar on her forehead ridge
where she had drawn blood to commit herself to the Blood Hunt.
     ?I just want to talk,? Troy said.  ?I saw the data crystal, and I
know you?re on a Blood Hunt.?
     ?If you intend to take me back to your battlestar, I might as well
kill you now.?  She hefted her weapon and seemed to be deciding where to
put a hole in him.
     Very slowly, Troy lifted himself to his elbows.  ?I know you didn?t
kill him, and I couldn?t take you back even if you did.  But we need to
tell you and your family to stay away from the Galactica.?
     ?Why??
     ?Because we don?t recognize the legitimacy of the Blood Hunt.?
     Mira spat on the catwalk.  ?Yes, I was deprived of my kill.  Kar
deserved to be roasted to death over a slow fire, with a spit stuck
through his gut, and I?m sorry he died quickly, before I could get my
hands on him.  Do you know what he did to my family??
     Troy swallowed.  ?Yes, I do.  I believe he was sorry for it, in the
end.?
     ?Ha!? scowled the attractive Nomen.  ?He was a pathetic excuse for a
Nomen.?
     Troy decided not to argue with her and her shiny blaster.  Keeping
the weapon trained on him, Mira scrambled to her knees to reclaim her
knife.  She stuck the knife in a shabby leather sheath and looked
thoughtfully at Troy, as if deciding how to dispose of him.  He flinched,
expecting to have his chest turned into melting goo, but the young woman
tucked the blaster inside her tight-fitting waistcoat and rose to her
feet.
     She looked down at him with pity.  ?Kar was the type to betray
everyone, including his friends.?
     Troy wasn?t likely to argue that point, but there was one more thing
he had to know.  ?Did you send assassins after him when he was aboard
Borella a few sectons ago??
     Mira frowned.  ?I thought they were professionals.  I will never
make that mistake again.?
     ?Were they also Thentas??
     The Nomen woman smiled slyly.  ?If you have any brains in your
Colonial skull, you will stay far, far away from the Thenta Society.?
     Troy picked himself up and dusted off his trousers.  ?That?s what
I?ve heard, but Kar defeated them on their first try.?
     The slim Nomen scowled at him.  ?Go back to your battlestar now,
warrior, before you get hurt. This is not your affair.?
     With that, Mira tossed back her cloak and sauntered away, giving him
a good look at her athletic backside.  Troy sighed, being a fan of rear
actions in motion.  Two more days he had in this vertical village tucked
away inside a piece of metal in the middle of nowhere, and he would also
like to meet Rog?s widow, to see if she was as headstrong as her
daughter.  His eyes wandered over the railing into the seemingly
bottomless ravine between decks.  Of course it had a bottom, he?d stood
on in, but he was too high up now to see it.
     He took a few steps after her and called out, ?Where can I find
you??
     ?The no-man?s zone,? she shot back.  ?But you aren?t brave enough to
go there.?

**********************************

CHAPTER 10
HAPPY OR ANGRY?

  ?Where have you been?? growled Toth when Troy finally straggled back to
the sanctuary.
Dillon studied his comrade, noting his dirty trousers and the way he
limped slightly.  ?I think he?s been exploring.?
  ?Yeah,? muttered Troy, ?but not too successfully.?  He glanced around.
?Where is Varton??
  ?Where we should be,? answered Dillon, ?out of this heat and getting
something to drink.?     He used Troy?s coat to dab the sweat off her
face, then he shoved it into his hands.
     Troy lowered his voice to report, ?After you saw Mira in the crowd,
I chased her down.  Well, sort of.  Actually she ambushed me and nearly
killed me.  She?s quite a piece of work.?
     ?Unfortunately,? said Toth, ?it is Kar?s fault that Rog?s family is
so bitter.  I am losing much of the sympathy I had for him.?
     ?Mira lives in a place called the no-man?s zone,? said Troy.  ?Where
is that??
     Toth said, ?Do you remember how I told you about the regimentation
of Nomen society?  The caste system applies to this entire ship.  For
example, only those of the Eighth Circle or above may live here in Hecba
Section, which is  our most revered place.  Tribesmen and others may work
here, but the tribesmen have sections of their own.  Those not permitted
to live on these sections----the thieves, socialators, and
beggars----must make their homes in compartments that our Council ordered
closed off to save resources. If Mira and her mother and brother live in
a no-man?s zone, then they have truly fallen to the lowest stratum of our
society.?
     ?Do you know which place she?s talking about?? asked Dillon.
     ?I have no idea,? said Toth.  ?There is a large no-man?s zone that
is fairly close to here.?
     Troy?s jaw tightened.  ?I warned Mira to stay away from the
Galactica, and I?d like to warn the entire family, if possible.  Sooner,
or later, they?re going to find out that Kar is alive, and I don?t want
to go through a bunch of memorial services all over again.?
     The warrior turned to Toth.  ?Are you sure there?s no way to talk
Rog?s family out of their Blood Hunt?  We talked you out of the one you
went on for Deathwalker.?
     The Nomen woman scowled.  ?That was very difficult for me, and I
drew great contentment from knowing that Deathwalker died anyway.  To
correct matters between Kar and the Rog family will take more persuasion
than you and I have to offer.?
     Dillon let his attention drift from this futile conversation, and he
heard somebody clear his throat.  He turned to see a tall Nomen male with
bland blue eyes.  He was dressed in the simple garb of a crewman from the
Shanavas.  He smiled at her and put his finger to his lips.
     ?Do I know you?? she asked, having the distinct feeling that she
did, if only from the ship.
     Troy leaned toward the Nomen and whispered, ?Are you crazy??
     Toth stiffened and stared at him.  ?Yes, he is.?
     The stranger held out his hand to Dillon.  ?The name is Moc.  Please
address me as such.?
     That voice!  He blinked at the Nomen in amazement. His real name
sprang to his lips, but he caught himself before he said it.  ?You are
crazy,? he agreed. ?What are you doing here??
     ?Enjoying my furlon,? answered the man who had been Kar and was now
Moc.  He kept his head bowed as if addressing his betters.  ?How was the
memorial service??
     ?Better than you deserved,? hissed Toth.
     ?Why are you here?? Dillon demanded again.
     ?Two things.  First, the Borella?s captain received a delayed
transmission from the Galactica.  Commander Adama has been has been
trying to reach you.?  He lowered his voice to add. ?The commander is no
fool.  Perhaps he has found out what I did.?
     ?Can we contact him?? asked Troy.
     ?Yes, but I think it would be better if you did so from the
Shanavas.?
     ?You didn?t come here to tell us that,? said Dillon.
     ?No,? admitted Kar.  ?Most importantly, I want to see Kal, my mate. 
She lives on this section.  I want you to come with me.?
     ?Why?? asked Troy.
     ?You may have to protect me in case she tries to kill me.?
     ?I?m not sure we would,? said Dillon.  He rubbed his lips.  ?Before
we get deeper into this mess, we humans need to get something to drink. 
Where did you say Varton went??
     Toth pointed to a hatchway about twenty meters away.  ?He said their
was a tavern in there, and he went inside as soon as the service was
over.  We haven?t seen him since.?
     ?Who is this Varton person?? asked Kar.  ?Can we trust him??
     Dillon fixed the dead man with a stare. ?Can we trust you?  We have
to wait two full days before meeting with the Nomen Council.  You didn?t
have anything to do with that, did you??
     Kar shrugged. ?I am trying to make amends, but I must have time.?
     ?You can start by buying us some drinks,? said Troy, heading for the
tavern.  
     The party of two humans and two Nomen ambled into a hatchway that
looked no different from any of the others, except for three gashes
stenciled into the wall above the hatch.  After the intense lighting, the
darkness inside the compartment momentarily blinded Dillon. He could see
nothing, but the sounds of laughter and voices convinced her that he was
indeed inside a public tavern.  Toth and Kar brushed past him, apparently
having no difficulty with the change in light.
     He bumped into a customer and decided to stand still until his eyes
adjusted to the darkness.  Once they had, he saw a low-slung bar against
one wall; it seemed to be welded directly into the superstructure. 
Stepping closer, he saw the bar had deep holes cut into it, from which
strange aromas and curlicues of steam rose toward the ceiling.  There
were no bar stools that he could see, but he couldn?t miss Varton, who
was sitting on the floor, his back against the bar.  He was drinking from
what appeared to be an ordinary plastic bag.
     ?Here you are!? he said happily, bounding to his feet.  He pointed
to a sickly-looking Nomen who could only be the proprietor.  ?These are
my friends.  They will pay my bill.?
     ?Wait a centon,? grumbled Troy.  ?How much is his bill??
     The proprietor appraised him with cool gray eyes that looked like
storm clouds about to drop a torrential downpour.  ?One hundred cubits.?
     ?A hundred cubits!? snapped Troy.  ?You should be able to rent a
room for that!?
     Dillon swallowed dryly and fished out a handful of cubits.  ?Give us
two more of whatever he?s having.?
     ?I?ll take ambrosa,? said Troy.
     The proprietor glared at him.  ?Ambrosa is an intoxicating liquor,
sir.  Nomen law forbids me to serve that on this vessel.?
     Troy held out some cubits of his own.  ?All right then, I?ll just
take the sweetest fruit juice you?ve got.?
     The old Nomen nodded and took the cubits.  Then he produced two flat
bags and dipped them into separate holes in the bar.  When he brought the
bags up, they were plump and dripping with steaming liquid.  He handed
the pouches to the visitors and deposited Dillon and Troy?s cubits.  The
plastic skin of the bag was sticky, and whatever was inside was highly
aromatic.  It wasn?t a terrible smell but oddly rendolent or tartmeat
pie, truffles, and Sagitaran cooking.
     ?This is crazy,? muttered Troy.  ?When I?m thirsty, I want something
cold.?
     Dillon replied, ?It?s a fallacy that something cold quenches better
than something hot. In fact, whenever I?m really thirsty, I drink java.?
     ?You always drink java,? countered Troy.  Wrinkling his nose, he put
the bag to his lips and took a cautious sip.  ?Hmmmm,? he said with
surprise. ?Sort of tastes like mulled grape juice and beef broth.?
     Dillon took a sip, and the warm liquid did indeed taste like a
combination of cloves, raisins, and the drippings from a roast.  It
warmed his insides while the condensing steam cooled his face.
     Varton chuckled. ?Do you want me to tell you what?s in it??
     ?No!? Dillon and Troy said in unison.
     ?Listen, Varton,? said Dillon, ?we fulfilled our part of the bargain
and got you here.  If we?re going to pay your bills, too, then you had
better stick with us.?
     ?I told you where I was going,? said Varton.  ?When Captain Troy ran
off after that gorgeous Nomen woman, I assumed he would be gone for a
while.?
     Troy lowered his drinking bag and said, ?We?ve got two more days
here.  What do you know about the no-man?s zone??
     ?Oh, no,? replied the portly human, looking grim.  ?You aren?t
planning to go to a border zone, are you??
     ?We must,? said Troy.  ?We have to talk to somebody there.?
     ?You don?t need a guide, you need a bodyguard.?  Varton took a long
swig from his bag.
     Dillon cleared his throat.  ?Another Nomen from the shuttle is going
with us, so there will be five of us.?
     ?That?s too few,? said Varton. ?Let?s get the whole crew to go with
us.?
     Dillon looked at Troy. ?Maybe he has a point. If we really want to
go traipsing around this planet, we ought to talk to Mr. Tok about having
an escort.  It might keep us out of trouble.?
     Someone tapped on his shoulder, and he turned around to see the
disguised Nomen who was going by the name of Moc. ?I want to attend to
that errand we talked about,? he said insistently.
     To see his mate, recalled the lieutenant.  He had no objection to
telling people that Kar was still alive, and the sooner the better!  They
might as well start with his poor widow, and Dillon hope she would punch
him in the stomach, the same way Toth had.
     Before he could reply, Varton butted in.  ?Hello, I don?t believe
we?ve me.  I?m Varton, formerly of this ship.?
     ?Moc,? lied the Nomen. ?Your friends need to come with me.  You can
stay here.?
     Varton sighed. ?I?m afraid, sir, I am currently short of funds, and
this establishment won?t extend me credit.?
     Kar grabbed the human?s pudgy hand and dropped some gold cubits into
it.  ?That should hold you until we get back.?
     ?Indeed it should!? said Varton.  ?Thank you.?
     ?Finish your drinks,? ordered the Nomen.  ?I?ll be over there with
Toth.?  He strode into the dim recesses of the tavern.
     Varton cocked his head thoughtfully.  ?He?s rather bold for a simple
crewman, isn?t he??
     ?Yes,? said Dillon, gazing after him, ?and I?ve had just about
enough of it.  But we may need him, just as we may need you.   Wait for
us here, please.?
     ?Have no fear,? said Varton pleasantly. ?I have no intention of
letting any of you get away from me.?

****************************************

     A few minutes later, Dillon and his party were on a
heavily-decorated catwalk high in the air, Toth and Kar ahead of him.  He
lifted his eyes toward the ship?s roof to avoid looking down, but his
wobbly legs and staggering gait force him to watch where he put his feet. 
He took some comfort in the fact that Troy was even more frightened than
he was.  Troy inched along behind his wingman.
     ?The next time Commander Adama orders us to a non-Colonial ship,?
Troy muttered, ?will you remind me to resign??
     ?No,? Dillon answered. ?But I?ll make sure someone else goes ahead
of me.?
     Adding to his discomfort was the miserable heat, the sweat drooling
down his back and chest, and the fact that he was still carrying his
coat.  Dillon brushed sweaty ringlets of hair from his face and his eyes
wandered downward.  
     Keep going, he told himself. It wasn?t much farther. But it was, as
they were barely a third of the way across the catwalk.  Dillon had hte
irrational urge to turn around and run back to the tavern, seeking safety
with Varton, but he forced himself to keep moving.  They had traveled to
the ass-end of the fleet in order to honor Kar and confront his
murderers....only to end up with no murder and a frightened ambassador in
disguise.  Now they were going to hold his hand as he broke the news to
his mate that he was still alive.
     Dillon had to remind himself that this ship harbored a family of
would-be murderers who would not be pleased to find out that Kar was
still alive. Plus, there was a guild of assassins....the Thenta
Society...who had contracted to kill Kar and failed.  Even if a murder
had yet to be committed, it wasn?t for lack of trying.  Thinking about
these various parties gave him the impetus to quicken his step and make
his way across the narrow span.
     Toth and Kar waited for him at the other end, and he nearly dove
into their outstretched hands.  ?That wasn?t so bad, was it?? asked Kar.
     ?It was worse,? he breathed.
     Troy was almost crawling by the time he reached the end.  When they
helped him off the catwalk, he sank against the steel wall and panted for
a few seconds.
     ?Frak,? he said. ?Is there anything you Nomen are afraid of??
     ?Mates,? answered Toth with a sidelong glance at Kar.
     ?Yes,? he admitted, ?that is true.  I sincerely appreciate the help
you are giving me.  The home I share with Kal is on this level, only a
few hatches away.?
     They were doing Kar such a big favor, and he was in so much trouble,
that Dillon felt the normal boundaries between them were all but gone. 
?Why haven?t you ever brought Kal to the Galactica?? he asked.
     Kar shrugged his broad shoulders.  ?I?m not sure she would come. 
You have no doubt realized how ambitious I am.  Marrying Kal was the most
ambitious act I have ever taken, more so than what I did to Rog.  She is
extremely well placed, with friends in the Inner Circle, such as Pac.  I
was young and dashing when I met Kal; and she was a few yahrens older. 
She was very much in love with me.  My success was ensured when I married
her.?
     ?Are you in love with her?? asked Dillon.
     Kar fixed her with his altered blue eyes.  ?I am in love with the
idea of her, and I owe her more than anyone in the fleet.  But love?  I
doubt whether I have ever loved anyone but myself.  Follow me.?
     With Kar leading the way, the odd party of two Nomen and two humans
strode down the peaceful concourse.  There was less hustle and bustle on
the port decks, as if it was a better neighborhood, and the hatches of
the apartments were uniformly painted in muted brown and rust shades.
     Toth hung back to whisper to the humans.  ?Nomen are not strictly
monogamous.  It is quite possible that Kal has had lovers, and may have
lovers now.  A marriage is like two businesses joining forces....for the
purpose of creating children and riches....but they maintain their
separate identities.  Do I make myself clear??
     ?You do,? answered Dillon. ?What should we expect??
     Toth shook her head. ?That I do not know.?
     Kar stopped in front of an apartment that was distinguished by the
pinkish color of its heavy metal door.  He turned to the humans and said,
?This is our home.  I suppose you would have reason to discuss my death
with Kal, as you know more about it than anyone. Simply ask her: Would
she be happy or angry to learn that I am alive?  Depending on the answer,
you may come to fetch me.?
     ?You?re going to owe us big-time for this,? warned Troy.  He pushed
the door chime, and the two Nomen backed away.
     The door opened, and a wizened old Nomen peered at them.  ?Who are
you?? he snarled.
?We?re from the Battlestar Galactica,? said Dillon.  ?If Mistress Kal is
available, we would like to talk to her about her husband.?
     ?Hmmmm,? grunted the servant. ?Come in.?
     He ushered them into a narrow foyer that was decorated in a
typically masculine Nomen style, despite the fact that the man of the
household had lived on another ship for yahrens.  The walls were gilded
with a copper-colored metal and decorated with tapestries, antique
weapons, and family crests of bloodstone and exotic fabrics.  A clay vase
held dried flowers and reeds, and orange and brown tiles covered the
austere metal deckplates.  Beyond the foyer, Dillon could see a sumptuous
sitting room with heavy metal furniture, and he could hear feminine
voices.  The lack of portholes in the dwelling had the oppressive feeling
of a tylium mine.
     ?Wait here,? growled the wizened servant as he shuffled toward the
back of the apartment.
     Troy took a deep breath and whispered to Dillon, ?I?ve had to tell
people their spouses were dead, but I?ve never had to tell anyone their
dead spouse was alive.?
     ?I hope we don?t regret this,? said Dillon. ? I?d feel a lot better
if we called her from back on the Galactica.?
     ?I?ll drink to that,? muttered Troy.
     Dillon took a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow. At least it was
considerably cooler inside Kar?s home than outside in the open air.
     A few moments later, two women appeared. One of them was the regally
dressed woman from the Inner Circle, Pac, and she glanced disdainfully at
the humans as if they were stains on the wall.  The other woman was Kal,
who was dressed in a simple beige tunic, knotted at her waist.  For a
Nomen, she was short and delicate, almost fragile.  Dillon found it
difficult to tell age in a Nomen, but Kal had the look of a woman who had
aged considerably in the last few days.
     ?Then I will see you at the reception,? Pac, said, making it sound
like an order.
Kal nodded. ?I will try, my friend.  Thank you so much for being here.?
     Pac tilted her head. ?It?s the least I can do when your mate never
was.?
     Kal took her friend?s hand.  ?I know you are thinking of me,
always.?
     ?I will be staying in Compartment Setar-Setar if you need me,?
continued Pac.  She swept toward the hatch, and the servant jabbed the
button to open it for her.
     Once the noblewoman was gone, Dillon stepped forward.  ?I am Dillon
and this is Troy.  We?re from the Battlestar Galactica.?
     ?Yes, I saw you at the service,? said Kal, twisting her hands
nervously.  ?My mate mentioned you in his messages, and he was very
impressed with you.  Thank you for coming to honor him.? She motioned
toward the sitting room.  ?Shall we make ourselves comfortable??
     Dillon glanced at the aged servant. ?We would prefer to speak to you
alone, if we could.?
     ?Of course.  Loc, I believe we need some things from the market.?
     ?Yes, my lady.?  The servant bowed and shuffled out the door.
     ?Come,? said Kal, leading them into the sitting room of the elegant
apartment.  The furnishings in this room were surprisingly bright and
cheerful for a Nomen household, with ivory-hued curtains gracing most of
the walls and several vases of dried flowers and plants.  The furniture
was dark and massive, but some brightly colored cushions gave it a
feminine touch.  The widow seated herself on the edge of a small sofa,
still twisting her hands. The humans sat in high-backed chairs.
     Dillon glanced at Troy, and the captain looked at her helplessly. 
Apparently, he was going to let his wingman do all the talking. Although
Dillon felt rather lacking in the tact department, he resolved to do the
best he could.
     ?We?re sorry to bother you at a time like this,? he began.
     ?How could it be otherwise?? asked Kal.  ?But I must warn you....I
know very little about my mate?s affairs.  Certainly it?s no secret to
you that we didn?t see each other very often.?
     ?Yes, we know,? said Dillon, lowering his eyes with embarrassment. 
?Did you know a man named Rog??
     The distress that swept over the woman?s face made it very clear
that she did. ?Of course I knew him.  He was on the Nomen Council....a
former associate of Kar?s.?
     ?Were you aware that Rog hired an assassin from the Thenta Society
to kill your husband??
     The woman?s jaw hung open for a moment, then she nodded with
realization. ?Ah, that is what happened to Kar.?
     ?No,? said Dillon quickly.  ?That murder attempt was not successful,
and so was one other.?
     Kal leaped to her feet.  ?I knew nothing of any of this.  Oh, that
fool!  Why didn?t Kar come to me for help?  I am not without influence,
even among the Thenta Society.  But Kar was so stubborn!  He thought he
was master of his own fate, when he never was.?
     Dillon sighed.  It was becoming woefully clear to him that Kar had
kept his mate in the dark about almost everything for the last few
yahrens.  Kal must have known what her husband had done to the Third
Circle, but she didn?t seem to know anything beyond that.  The lieutenant
had only two more questions before he tackled the big one.
     ?Do you know Rog?s family? Het is the widow?s name, and Mira and Kog
are his children.?
     Kal stopped pacing and bent over to rearrange one of her dried
flower arrangements.  ?I already told you that I knew Rog.  Of course I
know his family. If you are trying to make trouble for me....?
     ?No,? insisted Dillon.  ?What?s in the past is in the past, except
as it relates to the incident that brought us here.  Did you know they
went on a Blood Hunt for your mate??
     Kal?s back stiffened, and she gazed into the distance.  
     ?That is within their right.  If you are expecting that I will go on
a Blood Hunt of my own for them, let me assure you I will not.  Nor will
I help you persecute them.  The family of Rog has suffered enough.  The
Blood Hunt is now ended.?
     Dillon took a deep breath. There was just one more question to ask. 
?Would you be happy or angry to learn that Kar is still alive??
     The woman whirled around, her olive-green eyes blazing in their
sockets just beneath her forehead ridge.

 ****************************************

     Kar and Toth stood on the walkway about thirty metrons beyond Kal?s
hatchway.  They pretended to admire some golden goblets on display in a
shop window, but the proprietor was beginning to look at them
suspiciously.  Kar lowered his head and motioned to his aide, and they
began to walk slowly toward Kal?s apartment.
     ?What in Hades could be taking them so long?? seethed Kar.
     ?It?s only been a few mili-cetons since your servant left,? said
Toth. ?We were lucky that neither he nor Pac recognized you.?
     ?That old witch,? muttered Kar.  ?She has always hated me.  I doubt
if the yahrens have changed her mind very much.?
     The pink door zipped open, and Kar froze in his steps.  He had
confidence that his disguise would fool a cursory inspection from most of
his acquaintances, especially humans, but he harbored no illusions that
it would fool his mate.  He held his breath until he saw that it was
Dillon and Troy.  They left the door open and approached him.
     ?She?s waiting for you,? said Dillon.  ?We?ll wait for you in the
tavern where we left Varton.?
     Kar swallowed and gave them a brief nod.  ?I thank you.?
     ?Don?t thank us yet,? said Toy.  ?She may have a rolling pin in her
hand.?
     The Colonial reference flew over Kar?s head as he strode toward the
hatch.  He carefully entered the hatchway, bowing his head respectfully. 
The first thing he noticed were the vases of flowers, an addition since
he had lived here.  Then he saw her standing in the next room, a small
but proud woman dressed in the traditional beige of mourning.  Shadows
and shock obscured her face.
     Her voice was icy. ?Kar....is that really you??
     ?Yes,? he said. A dozen words of endearment sprang to his mind, but
he could force none of them onto his tongue.  He was sure she would
believe none of them.
     She stepped toward him and peered into his eyes.  He bent his head
downward, pushed on his eyelids, and let the blue contact lenses fall
into his hand.  Then he slowly peeled off the false forehead that had
altered his appearance so much.
     ?By the Martyrs!? she gasped. ?What made you do this thing??
     ?Fear,? he answered.  ?Desperation. Most of all, shame.?
     ?You could have come to me for help.?
     He shook his head.  ?You could not have helped without revealing
what I did to Rog and his family.  When I received word that they had
gone on a Blood Hunt for me, I was afraid.  My first instinct was to
hide, and my second was to kill Mira.  I could accomplish both by
pretending to be dead.  The Galacticans discovered the truth before we
reached here, and now I feel mostly shame for my actions. This is my
first step in reclaiming my life.?
     Kal stepped forward and held out her trembling hands.  Kar took them
in his, and they were both calm.  The ambassador looked down at the woman
who had shared his bed and his life for so many yahrens, and it seemed as
if their yahrens apart were nothing but a long, dark night.  He needed
Kal more than ever, but he had no idea if she still needed him.  He
feared to ask if she still loved him.
     She insisted, ?You must make amends to Het and her children.  I
don?t know how you can do this, but you must try.?
     ?I know,? he answered. ? Believe me, I know how wrong I?ve been.  If
I had to do it over again, I would wait forever to succeed to the Third
Circle.  I would do so many things differently.?
     Kal pulled her hands away from his.  ?We cannot wait....we must do
something!?
     She strode into the sitting room, and Kar rushed after her.  This
was the dynamic woman he remembered, before apathy and ambition had
ruined their marriage.  Kal went to the wall and pulled on a cord, and a
curtain opened to reveal a sophisticated computer terminal.  As her
delicate fingers touched the controls, the screen blinked on.
     ?Her and her children are living like animals in the no-man?s zone,?
she said. ?I have been as cruel as you....I knew their circumstances, yet
I have done nothing to help them.  Like you, I have been afraid to reveal
the past.  It is time to be brave and do the honorable thing.  You can
only run so far from yourself.?
     ?What are you doing?? asked Kar, suddenly worried despite his good
intentions.
     ?I am transferring funds to the Rog family.  I know that Het still
maintains an account that is dormant. I can?t restore their social
status, but I can do what I must to help them be comfortable.  Whatever
we do for them, it is long overdue.?
     As he fingers plied the controls, Kar paced nervously.  ?Won?t they
know where the money is coming from??
     ?Irrelevant. If we haven?t the stomach to destroy them, we must help
them.  Go seal the hatch.?
     ?Seal the hatch?? asked Kar numbly.
     ?Yes, before my servant returns home.  It is a signal we have used
before.  If he finds the hatch is sealed from the inside, he knows I am
entertaining.  He won?t return until summoned.?  Kal turned to her
husband and smiled slightly.  ?You have been gone a long time, Kar.?
     He nodded and rushed to key in the sequence that secured the hatch. 
There was a romantic, dreamlike quality about all of this....returning to
his home in disguise, seeing Kal after ignoring her for yahrens, and
sealing the hatch against the rest of the ship.  It was as if the yahrens
were melting away and they were young again, sneaking behind their
parents? backs.  Could the clock really be turned back?  Could they
return to a simpler time, before his life had been consumed with ambition
and intrigue?  He walked back into the sitting room and found Kal
shutting the curtain on the computer terminal.
     ?It is done,? she said with a sigh.  ?This won?t begin to make up
for what you did to Rog,? but at least his family won?t have to live like
animals anymore.?
     ?And us?? asked Kar in an urgent voice.  ?What is to become of us??
     As Kal approached him, she untied the beige tunic from around her
waist. ?I am no longer in mourning.?
     She slipped the garment off her shoulders, and it fell to the floor. 
?This is twice today I have bared myself for you, Kar.  No other woman
would do that for you.  Once, you were lord and master of every molecule
of this body.  Do you still want it??
     ?Yes,? he said hoarsely, as he lifted her in his powerful arms and
pressed his face to her flesh.

**************************************

CHAPTER 11
SHIP-BOUND  

     Mira waited solemnly in line with the servants and tradespeople of
the lower castes who were leaving Hecba Section for the day.  The line
shuffled toward a huge elevator platform that allowed them access to many
decks in a short time.  With hunched shoulders and weary expressions, the
tribesmen stepped onto the platform to begin their homeward march.
     The young woman tried to hold her head high, knowing she didn?t
belong with these commoners, but it was difficult.  She knew that most of
them were returning to better apartments than the hovel she shared with
her mother and brother. They had jobs and at least some station in life,
even if it was a lower one.  She had nothing but her bitterness and the
weapons stuck in her belt.  Mira had believed that the memorial service
for Kar would in some way cleanse her, or please her, but the finality of
his death had just the opposite effect.  Her father was dead, his
tormentor was dead, and she felt dead, too.  Without the Blood Hunt and
the hatred which fueled it, her purpose in life was gone.
     Perhaps, thought Mira, it was time to get away from the Borella,
time to explore the other ships of the fleet.  The concerned Colonist who
had pursued her down the walkway had made her realized that there was
other ships, ships filled with humans who didn?t care about any aspect of
Nomen culture.  She was an outcast here, but on another ship, she would
merely be a fellow space voyager----and that would be preferable.  Mira
knew she would be young and attractive for many more yahrens.  She had
too much pride to become a socialator, but there must be someplace where
she could carve a new life.
     On the other hand, what was this planet Adama had been searching for
so long, this planet Earth, like? Everyone was told that Earth did not
appear to be technologically advanced enough to defend itself or protect
her fellow refugees from the Cylons.   Worse, the planet was not unified 
like the planets of the Twelve Colonies of Mankind were, but divided into
nations, some of them warring against each other.  Surely a backward
planet like that would have too many internal problems to care about the
sins of any Nomen fathers.  But then, why didn?t the Colonials land and
help their fellow humans out when they first discovered Earth?  There was
but one answer: prejudice.  It was likely determined that the people of
Earth were closed-minded, afraid of anything they didn?t understand. And
if they couldn?t get along with each other, they certainly could not get
along with the Colonials.  They would be frightened of people from other
worlds.....and that thought made her smile.
     Mira had to consider her mother and brother, though when she did her
rosy dreams vanished like the shaft of elevator over her head.  They were
helpless without her. She couldn?t leave them in the no-man?s zone,
destitute and outcast, while she went off to explore other ships, or take
her chances on the planet Earth.  And both of them would be useless on
such a grand adventure.  Mira had expected to fulfill her Blood Hunt, and
die young, in a blaze of glory.  Now she would do neither.  Instead, she
would grow old, caring for her impoverished family, all hope of a better
life dashed forever.
     Mira stood numbly on the vibrating platform of the moving elevator,
looking at the beleaguered Nomen around her, some in traditional
costumes, others in one kind of service uniform or another.  She watched
the naked lightbulbs go by, barely illuminating the dark shaft.  This
retreat from Hecba Section was characteristic of her life----a journey
from wealth and position into poverty and despair.  She had nothing to
look forward to but a swift descent into a dark well.
     There was one other possible path for her, one she had been
considering since hearing of their recent success.  Mira considered
joining the Thenta Society, the guild of professional assassins.  She had
the qualifications: a complete disregard for her own life, beauty and
poise that would help her travel in disguise, and the most important
qualification----a deadened soul that was prepared to kill.  She was a
perfect candidate, and perhaps she could make enough money as an assassin
to send her mother and brother to another ship, to the planet Earth, or
someplace far removed from the bitter memories and daily reminders. 
Surely they could have lives that were at least respectable, if not
privileged.
     The thought of this plan cheered her slightly as the elevator
stopped, the cage door opening onto an intersection where three corridors
branched off.  Most of the tribesmen took the right-hand corridor,
heading to their apartments in Jasba Section.  A few lucky ones took the
left-hand corridor to a deck reserved for members of the Outer Circle. 
She took the least traveled corridor to the area in between, the no-man?s
zone.
     Mira had been deprived of everything....her birthright, her station,
her inheritance, and now the glory of the Blood Hunt.  Even the pitiful
Colonists seemed to dismiss her.  She was disappointed that the tall
human in uniform hadn?t put up more of a fight on the walkway.  He hadn?t
even offered her the chance to die in battle.  But why should he?  He
knew she wasn?t the murderer?he simply had a desire to speak with her
before returning to his of defending the fleet.  She
understood----warriors were a privileged class in her society, too.
     The corridor grew darker, narrower, and more neglected, and eyes
peered at her from the shadows.  They were the eyes of animals and Nomen,
those who were so downtrodden they made the corridors their homes.  They
were chased out of other corridors and compartments, but not this one. 
They were chased into the no-man?s zone. The corridor denizens scurried
furtively about as Mira plodded further into the netherworld.
     When she had lived among the privileged, Mira had never given much
thought to the unlucky, the poorly born, the classless.  Forged by
slavery, the Nomen were a hard people who admired the victors in any
struggle and shunted the losers to the dung heap.  Those who knew their
place got to keep their place, and that was struggle enough for the
tribesmen and Outer Circle.  For the fallen from grace, there was a
special netherworld.
     Mira recalled how her mother?s lavishly-furnished cabin had been
seized by the ship?s captain as proof of illicit profits on those
ludicrous arms-dealing charges.  Like most of his peers, Rog occasionally
pulled a shady deal----a few of them with Kar as his partner----and kept
less than scrupulous records.  But no one could have predicted the fall
he was about to take.  The captain?s men had nearly tortured Balshazar to
tdeath, and they needed to produce him in tribunal to name his contact
for the horribly potent biological weapons.  The weapons were especially
successful on Nomen, as if they had been formulate for them in the first
place.  Despite holding high rank in the Nomen Council, and the Fourth
Circle, Rog was embraced as the scapegoat.
     The crew of the Borella executed Balshazar posthaste, and Kar
installed his family in a life of splendor in the Rising Star?s Club
Elite----while her father died fighting the unjust charges.  Then the
scavengers moved in, expecting easy pickings, Mira had to grow up fast in
a short time, and she wasn?t able to ward them off.  The creditors and
opportunists had picked her father?s skeleton clean before she was strong
enough to fight them.  As part of the supposedly generous settlement, she
and her mother and brother had gotten deed to a section of this pit, the
no-man?s zone.
     The corridor led her to another pit, where the stairway to what was
called  ?vee-tar? was covered with dirt and garbage.  You literally had
to climb up to reach the slum.  Someone had once run a little newsstand
by the stairway, but it had been closed up and  booby-trapped with a
crude explosive device long ago.  The only reason they kept the corridor
open was that they didn?t want anyone to have the excuse that they
couldn?t get home.  If you didn?t belong in Hecba Section, then there had
to be a way to get you out of there at the end of the day....to wherever
you did belong.
     Mira drew her blaster and dug in the toes of her boots as she scaled
the garbage pit.  She finally found a few clear steps where dust had
strayed down the steps and the ascent got easier.  There was nothing
easy, however, about the sight of the big compartment, with its
depressing shanty houses.  They were thrown up as fast as anyone could
slap them together with whatever plastic and metal scraps they could
find.  The people themselves were left to rot in here, with the firm
knowledge that anyone who had sunk to this level had lost his place in
Nomen society.  For a Nomen who didn?t know his place, there was no hope.
     Mira stepped cautiously into the dank, miserable chamber.  The
decrepit shanty houses were supposed to be offset by impressive support
struts and poles that mirrored the glories of Nomen astronautics, in the
days before the Cylon invasion of Borella.  But the constant feeling of
running into poles made it feel like a maze, a place where society
observed its freaks.  At other times, the compartment?s four massive
walls felt like a prison, which is what it truly was, thought Mira.
     There were murders every night, but no one saw anything because of
the fear.  The no-man?s zones were patrolled not by deputized Nomen, but
by human Council Security men who showed absolutely no interest
whatsoever in solving most of the crimes.  In the ones they decided to
solve, they acted as police, judge, jury, and executioner.
     She tried to stay out of the light.  There were cheap clay candles
melted into the floor.  The crew left candles and boxes of food at
certain ?intersections? every day, and a few conscientious people tried
to light the no-man?s zone.  Most just ignored the cheap candles, and the
filthy floor was littered with sooty clumps of pottery that had once been
candles.
     The young Nomen paused before one of the support struts.  A lone
wanderer could never tell what might be waiting behind one of those
infernal poles; at least this one had a clay pot burning from a hook
jutting out from the pole.  She was young and attractive, and her
greatest fear was that some ship pack would capture her alive.  Mira
slowed cautiously and put her blaster away in favor of her knife.  In
close quarters, she had more faith in her knife to inflict damage without
risking a war.
     Mira was still annoyed that a Colonist had managed to deflect her
attack so easily today.  Of course, she could have killed him, which gave
her some satisfaction.  The young Nomen gazed up at the ceiling,
wondering if anybody could be hiding among the pipes up there.  She knew
from experience that it was dangerous up there, the only way down being
by thick rope.  No one in his right mind ventured up there.  The floor
was littered with chunks of foam, structural plywood and metal that had
fallen from the ceiling.
     The smell of burning rubber, the only available fuel for some
downtrodden souls, assaulted her nostrils, and she felt like turning
back.  But her mother and brother were waiting for a full report on the
memorial service.  Even though Kar?s death brought them no immediate
relief, at least it had exorcised one ghost.  They no longer anguished
over the fact that Kar enjoyed a soft life built from the hide of their
father?s corpse.
     Mira stopped again to listen, and she thought she heard someone
moving among the pipes overhead.  She darted around the pole, slashing
her knife, but her would-be attacker was just another foam chunk that had
come crashing down to the floor.
     She moved away from the light, not wanting to draw attention from
herself.  There was sufficient lighting in here that this trip home
shouldn?t be torturous.  She could see some young Nomen burning a piece
of tread from an ancient mining vehicle and cooking a couple of rodents
over the flames.  But they were often there and had never tried to pursue
her.  Still, she kept a safe distance and was poised to run if they even
stood up too quickly.  Mira had no delusions about the dangers of the
no-man?s zone.  Some people in here were mentally unhinged, not fit for
Nomen or Colonial society; some had become addicted to drugs the humans
had introduced.  Many were just unlucky, like herself, and it was cruel
to mix the misfits with the misfortunates.
     The Borella prided itself on not having a detention area, as if this
was some indication that the Nomen refugees accepted their rigid caste
system.  But Mira had decided that the Borella was nothing more than one
big detention area cruising silently through space.  Even Kar had not
managed to escape from it.
     She heard a sound, and she broke out of her careless reverie to see
two dark figures rise out of the shadows.  As they had already seen her,
she decided to let them see everything.  She stepped back near the pole
and let them see the light glinting off her knife, then she slowly made
her way across the compartment to the first row of dreary shacks.  Mira
wanted to let them know that she intended to steer clear of them and
hoped they would do likewise.  The two shadowy figures watched her go,
although they grunted something to each other and laughed.
     When Mira was well beyond them, she sheathed her knife and dashed
through an opening between shanties without alerting anyone.  The floor
those shanties was not too badly littered.  A few residents poked their
heads out of their doorways to watch her pass.  Even though most of them
knew who she was, nobody greeted her.  People in the no-man?s zone were
faceless and wanted to stay that way.
     Mira could see the lighted clay pot burning by her mother?s door. 
At least Kog had done something he was supposed to do.  As she approached
the dreary shanty, she could hear the people who lived the next shanty
over fighting; one of them was a brain crystal addict and the other was a
pickpocket who worked the corridors.  Mira hated to have them as
neighbors, but there was nothing she could do about it.  Besides, this
hellhole and its hideous denizens had never seemed like their real home.
It was just the cell to which the Rog family had mistakenly been
condemned until the magical return of the good life.  That?s how Het and
Kog looked at it, thought Mira angrily.  The only Vee-Tar that burned in
them was the minimum it took to survive, plus the useless hope that their
father?s name would someday be cleared.
     She tried to tell them that they had been put in the no-man?s zone
to be forgotten, to die.  The only glory awaiting them was the thrill of
the Blood Hunt----the fulfillment of their father?s dying wish that Kar
be killed.  At least that goal had been attained, even if it was
another?s hand that held the glory.  That was honest cause for
celebration, so Mira tried to put on a happy face as she approached the
rude structure.  But she still felt empty. The fire of revenge had gone
out, and she had nothing to replace it with.
     The neighbor?s fighting was a common sound, but the next sound she
heard was highly unusual.  It was her mother laughing!  That couldn?t be
possible, thought Mira, it had to be another woman laughing, but what
woman would be in the no-man?s zone, laughing?  Even through the cheap
tin door, it sounded like her mother.  The hand on the hilt of her knife
she pushed the door open.
     It was her mother, the downtrodden martyr to Kar?s ambition, and she
was roaring with laughter....for the first time in yahrens!  Kog, her
strapping but spineless brother, was doubled over in laughter, gripping
his sides.
     Mira scowled.  ?I know Kar?s death was a major event, but I don?t
understand this much levity.?
     ?Oh, you will!? gasped Kog.  He waved a finger at Het, who was so
dejected earlier that morning that she couldn?t rise from her slumber
bag. ?Tell her, Mother!?
     The older woman usually looked gaunt and beaten, but today she
heaved with joyous gasps.  ?We are rich, my dear!  We are back in the
good life again!  As you said we never would be.?
     ?Father has been absolved?? asked Mira, beaming at the thought.
     That thought sobered Het.  ?Ah, no,? she admitted.  ?This has no
official effect on his case, but maybe that will change, too.  We have
the next best thing, which is money!  Transferred directly into our old
account.  The banker sent an armed courier to tell us!?
     ?How much money??
     ?Four hundred thousand cubits!? gushed Kog.
     ?Keep your voice down,? Mira hissed. ?And who provided this
windfall??
     Kog stopped laughing for a moment.  ?What difference does it make? 
It?s the same blackguards who stole it in the first place.?
     ?Who was it?? Mira demanded of her mother.
     The older woman looked away and straightened her ragged housedress. 
?It was Kar?s widow, Kal.  I wondered when she would come through.  She
used to be one of my best friends, you know.?
     ?Mother,? said the young Nomen woman, trying to remain calm, ?that?s
only money.  That was probably one yahren?s housekeeping money before the
Final Destruction.  Nothing changes----we?ll still be outcasts with no
station in life, and Father will still be considered a traitor.?
     ?But we?ll get out of here!? Het snarled.  ?With that much money, we
can get some kind of life back. What do you think it will buy??
     Mira was thinking.  It would not buy her silence, she knew that.  It
would buy the services of several mercenaries, and it might buy more
creature comforts, but it wouldn?t let them buy respect.  And how long
would it really last?  If she knew her mother, not very long.
     ?What do you plan to do with the money?? she asked matter-of-factly.
     ?Buy an apartment in Hecba Section. Or maybe a cabin on the Rising
Star.  Surely we?ll be accepted there again, even with our past.?
     Our past, Mira thought bitterly.  They hadn?t done anything wrong,
yet her mother was still suffering guilt!  ?A cabin on the Rising Star,?
she observed dryly.  ?There goes most of the money.?
     Kog jumped to his feet and stared at his older sister.  ?You never
want anything good to happen, because you?re too obsessed with revenge. 
Whether you like it or not, two good things have happened, and I say we
should rejoice!  I?m with Mother.  Let?s get back to civilization.?
     Mira knew when to bide time, and she bowed her head respectfully. 
?Mother, of course you are right.  And may I suggest that you and my
brother go on an apartment-hunting excursion to the Rising Star. ˙But
don?t be hasty and grab the first thing.?
     ?No, never!? said her mother.  ?If this experience has taught me
anything, it?s to be practical.?  She pulled at her rags.  ?Of course
we?ll have to buy some new clothes.  Are you saying you won?t come with
us??
     ?No, you two go.  I will stay and look after what we have here.?
     Kog laughed disdainfully. ?We have nothing here, Mira.  You?re the
only one who thinks we do.  But I?m glad you agree with us.?
     ?I want to get out of here as much as anyone,? Mira assured her
mother.  ?Now I?m going to lie down and take a nap.?  
     ?We splurged and bought some tenderized chatto,? said Het. ?There is
some in the preserver.?
     Kog moved lazily toward the door. ?Mira, how was the memorial
service??
     ?Very moving,? she answered with all sincerity.  ?You would have
thought he was a great man.  Pac was there, and so were several Colonials
from the place where he died, the Battlestar Galactica.  They can?t
arrest us, but they may want to ask us questions.?
     ?In the name of the Martyrs, why?? asked Het.  ?Should we try to
leave before they come??
     ?No. They must have found the data crystal we sent to Kar, and they
want to meddle.?
     ?I knew that was a bad idea,? said Kog righteously.
     Mira narrowed her eyes.  ?You agreed at the time, dear brother.  We
have never gone anywhere near the Galactica, so they can?t implicate us. 
We don?t know anything about Kar?s death, except that it wasn?t us and it
wasn?t the Thenta Society.  Are we agreed??
     ?Of course, my dear,? said Het, patting her daughter?s hand.  ?You
worry too much.  We know what to say, and we are innocent.  Do you
suppose we should offer them a bribe?  One never knows with Colonists.?
     Mira touched her mother?s hand.  ?No, Mother.  Just be yourself.  I
think the Colonists are quite fascinated with us.  I was told there is
one among them who was married to a Nomen.?
     Kog winced. ?That?s disgusting.?
     ?Perhaps our future is not with Colonial humans but with Earth
humans,? said Mira. ?On a primitive world such as Earth, we would be
celebrities, as we would constitute their first contact with beings not
of their world.  Gold is undoubtedly rare on Earth, so our money might
last longer.  We should consider this.?
     ?We will,? said Het. ?But I?m not sure I want to leave all my
friends.?
     The same friends who haven?t spoken to you in three yahrens, thought
Mira angrily.  She held her tongue.  Her mother hadn?t spent any of the
money yet, and Mira had firstborn power of access.  She could make
withdrawals from this suddenly valuable account.
     Truly, Kar?s widow had done a noble thing, but it would be an empty
gesture if the money were wasted.  They could easily end up back in the
no-man?s zone, more bitter and more estranged from society.  Despite her
mother?s elation, this was not the solution to their crisis.  Plus, Mira
was suspicious of this money.  Why?  And why now?  What kind of silence
was it supposed to buy?  Whose guilt was it supposed to salve?  Nomen
weren?t known for experiencing much guilt.
     When the Galacticans arrived, decided Mira, she might have a few
questions for them.

*************************************

     With hardly a whimper, the Borella slipped into nighttime mode.  The
ship?s environmental controls stole away the heat, deck by deck, section
by section, corridor by corridor.  Dillon must have sweated off ten
kilons during the ship?s ?day,? but now she was shivering and unable to
stop, even wrapped in military-issue fleece.  He was expecting the drop
in temperature?he understood how thin atmosphere, low humidity, and weak
air pressure could have this effect----but he still wasn?t prepared for
the reality of nighttime mode aboard the freighter Borella.  The
lieutenant could swear that his breath formed ice crystal over the
glaciers that used to be his cheekbones.  The crew must have lowered
ship?s temperature sixty degrees.
     ?Whose bright idea was it to come into the atrium?? shuddered Troy,
pounding his arms against his chest in a futile attempt to keep warm.  At
least he wasn?t complaining anymore about having to drag his coat with
him.
     ?I told you we can?t stay on this high level,? answered Varton,
glancing over the railing.  ?We need to get closer to the tarmac.  In
fact, we need to get to the tarmac.?
     Dillon wanted to look over the edge of the railing, but he couldn?t
make her frozen muscles move.  He unstuck his face long enough to ask,
?Is it really that much warmer d-d-down there??
     Toth scowled.  ?I don?t see what you thin-skinned Colonists are
complaining about.  It?s perfectly pleasant on this level.  I say, we go
back to the tavern and wait for Moc as planned.?
     ?It?s been centons!? protested Dillon.  ?What could he be doing??
     Varton shook his head. ?I don?t know why we should be worrying so
much about a simple crewman.  Let Moc find his own way back. If he?s not
of the right circle, Council Security will probably catch him and send
him packing, anyway. Toth, if you want to stay and wait for him, that?s
fine with me, but we can?t stay on this level.  Humans are thin-skinned,
and we don?t have much insulation.?
     Varton chuckled and patted his ample stomach.  ?When I lived on this
tub, I tried to pack on extra insulation, but it didn?t help much.?
     Dillon pried his frozen lips apart enough to ask, ?Can we wait a
little longer??
     Varton squinted at his fellow Colonists.  ?You two can stay here and
freeze to death....and they?re going to get the temperature even colder
yet.....but I didn?t sign on for that.  I?d rather take a five-milicenton
lift ride and be sitting down there in a nice, bubbling, communal
bathtub, dabbing the sweat off my brow.  The Shanavas is down there
anyway, isn?t it?  Why do we have to wait for Moc?he?s just a crewman,
isn?t he??
     Toth glanced back at the tavern?s hatchway, as if considering going
back to wait.  But Dillon didn?t think the Nomen wanted to wait
indefinitely in the tavern by herself.  Not only had the establishment
gotten substantially colder when the ship went into nighttime mode, it
had gotten rowdier with an infusion of privileged young Nomen who thought
they owned everything.  Besides, it was beginning to look suspicious that
they should be concerned over a simple crewman.  More than once, Dillon
had almost called Mok by his real name.  If they weren?t careful, Varton
was going to learn their secret.
     Toth finally slumped her shoulders.  ?Yes, we can go to the
Shanavas.  There is no way to predict how long Moc will be, and I can?t
force him to be sensible.  Therefore, you will be our leader, Varton. I
believe you know this city better than I do.?
     ?With pleasure,? said Varton.  He swung his pudgy arms and headed
off down the walkway.  Troy and Dillon fell in step behind him, with Toth
bringing up a watchful rear.  It felt good to be moving, thought Dillon,
with blood pumping to the outer extremities again.  
     ?We don?t have to cross the catwalk again, do we?? asked Troy with a
shudder.
     ?I don?t think so,? said Varton. ?The lifts don?t begin her until
half-a-dozen levels down.  This is the commercial deck?they want you to
walk, giving you time to pass the shops and shop.?
     Dillon nudged Troy. ?We can?t forget about Commander Adama.  To
contact him, we have to return to the Shanavas sometime soon.?
     ?Maybe not,? said Varton, overwhelming them.  ?You won?t find public
screens with inter-fleet links in every compartment, but this is a
wealthy section, and they?ve got lots of interesting stuff behind closed
doors.  We?ll ask around, after we get someplace warm.?
     Dillon was not about to argue with Varton?s priorities, not with
icicles encircling his spine.  The chill would have been worse, he
marveled, without all those broth drinks he had consumed in the tavern. 
He knew they weren?t alcoholic, or even intoxicating; had they been, the
freezing air would have snapped him right back into sobriety.  Dillon
felt nothing but cold, creeping numbness all over his body, and he could
barely remember that the same air had felt like a blast furnace a few
centons ago.
     In the dimmed lights, Varton walked down a level to check the
markings on a newer section of apartments. As if some kindly sensors
realized he needed more light, green light filaments suddenly ignited all
along the handrails and the catwalks that spanned the atrium.  Dillon
swiveled his head and stared in awe at the giant spiral of light.  He
felt as if he were inside a fluorescent crawlon web.  The effect was
quite startling, until he realized that the handrail filaments gave off
little actual light and no warmth.  If anything, the cool, impersonal
lights made Dillon feel even colder.
     ?Excellent, said Varton. ?We shouldn?t have any difficulty finding
the lift now.?
     He picked up the pace and lumbered confidently down one walkway
after another.  When he finally ducked inside a small tunnel illuminated
by blue lights, Dillon wanted to shake his hand, but his fingers seemed
frozen together.  It was still bone-chilling, even inside the chamber,
and he ran to catch up with Varton, mostly to keep warm.  He could see
his destination at the end of the corridor----an alcove with an oval
booth cobbled together from copper and black metal sheeting.
     Troy was right behind him, muttering to himself and flapping his
arms.  He tried to say something, but it just came out gibberish through
his frozen lips.  They huddled around Varton, who was looking at a map
embedded in the walls of the chamber.  It was barely illuminated by
reddish pilot lights glimmering on the lift booth.
     ?Remind me to bring a torch the next time I come aboard,? said Troy,
his teeth chattering.
     Dillon smiled, afraid his face would crack.  He turned to see Toth
saunter in.  Dressed in her usual attire and a lightweight cape, the
Nomen had yet to notice the cold.  She stood behind them and studied the
inlaid map.
     ?We have lodgings at the tarmac level,? she pointed out.  ?They
probably cater to you thin-skinned Colonists.?
     ?Maybe we should just return to the shuttle,? said Troy.  ?Then we?d
have beds and be able to contact the Galactica.?
     Varton shook his head and shivered.  ?I?m afraid you waited too long
to do that.  When the ship is in nighttime mode, all shuttlecraft in the
landing area are put under heavily-armed guard.  Those guards have orders
to shoot anyone who passes within so much as a milimetron of a shuttle. 
And they won?t care that we?re Colonists?or that you and Dillon are
warriors, I can tell you that right now. No, I?m afraid we can?t go back
to the Shanavas until the ship goes back into daytime mode.?
     ?Why didn?t you tell us this?? snapped Troy.
     Varton blinked at him.  ?Hey, it was you idiots who wanted to wait
around for Moc to come back!  I didn?t know what was going on.  Who is
this Moc, anyway?  Why is he so important??
     Dillon, Troy, and Toth looked guiltily at one another, knowing that
one of them would probably reveal Kar?s secret sooner or later.  But it
wasn?t going to be right now, Dillon decided.
     ?He?s one of our warriors,? he lied.  ?Acting in a special
investigation capacity.?
     The trader shook his head. ?I don?t know what he?s doing, but he
cost us our chance to get off this ship tonight.  I can?t say I mind,
though.  This is exactly where I want to be.?
     Varton pushed part of the map, and the whole thing lit up like a
stained-glass window, sketching a path from their position on the sixth
level to the very tarmac, three hundred metrons down.  They heard a
shuddering sound as a lift rose from the bowels of the ship to fetch
them.  
     ?It?s not just a landing facility.  You?ll like what they have to
offer down there,? Varton assured them.  ?Although I hope you?ve got
enough cubits, ?cause Colonists have to pay extra for boarding and food.?
     ?Frak!? muttered Troy.  ?The commander still hasn?t approved my
expenses from the last fleet ship I visited.?
     Toth frowned. ?I still say this is pointless.  We should stay where
we agreed to stay.?
     Dillon clutched his own shoulders and shivered.  ?Please, Toth, none
of us agreed to freeze to death.?
     To their considerable relief, the lift arrived at their level, and
the gate whooshed open.  The humans jammed in, and Toth entered
reluctantly.  The gate shut with a jolt, and Varton warned, ?These lifts
are fast. Watch for changes in pressure.?
     A second later, Dillon was close to screaming after what seemed like
a sheer drop to the bottom of the shaft.  His stomach churned, his ears
ached until they popped, and he could see Toth yawning.  The lift finally
began to slow, and it deposited them gently at the bottom level of the
atrium.
     Following Varton, Dillon staggered off the platform. The first thing
he felt was thick humidity, like steam pouring from a hot shower.  Then
he smelled the sulfur, magnesium, and other bitter minerals in the air. 
As his eyes grew accustomed to the subdued light, Dillon stepped around a
small spigot that hissed on the slate-blue floor, shooting gusts of steam
around his ankles.  It was soothingly hot and sticky down here, and
Dillon loosened his color as he followed Varton?s lead.
     He heard the voices and clink of glassware before he even emerged
onto the tarmac level.  Plump flexible tubes stroked his sandy-blonde
hair as he ducked under an ornamental free-standing archway, and he found
himself surrounded by sweaty tubes, stretching high overhead.  These
sweaty tubes were feeding moisture and nutrients to sealed spherical
terrariums containing various species of exotic plants.  Steam seemed to
flow in equal measure from the tubes and terrariums surrounding him. 
There were dining tables set at spacious intervals, each with a
collection of elegantly-dressed Nomen seated at it. They regarded the
Colonists with suspicious looks but returned swiftly to their dinners and
conversation.  Varton plunged ahead as if the diners weren?t there.  He
seemed to have a destination in mind.
     The civilized setting and warm humidity was beginning to relax
Dillon, and he let down his guard as he wandered next to a bubbling pool
that emitted sulfuric smells.  He gasped as an intense current of icy air
from an unseen ventilating unit sliced along his path and clutched his
spine.  His mind short-circuited, but his reflexes caused him to stumble
away and find a warm pocket of air.  He stood perfectly still by the gray
clouds from a hot fountain, hardly minding the unctous smells of sulfur
and methane. At least the methane was a familiar smell.
     As he stood in the hot mist, forcing his body temperature back to
normal, Dillon surveyed the weird layout here at the bottom of the
Borella?s internal atrium.  As above, the only bright light came from
green fibers embedded in the walkways.  Paths wound around cables, pipes
and ducting, most of it exposed but some obviously behind easily
removable panels.  This was to facilitate repairs to the decorative
fountains and artificial geysers and springs, to say nothing of any other
vital operating system that needed urgent care.  There were panel
brackets that clearly doubled as handholds, probably dating back to a
time before one of the previous captains had an artificial gravity system
installed, Dillon decided.  Polite laughter mingled with the gurgling and
spitting of the pipes, fountains and spitting of the spigots.  Thank the
Lords for thermal energy, thought Dillon, even in its artificial state.
     Troy and Toth had paused to inspect the tarmac level, and Varton was
out of sight.  He hoped that he hadn?t deserted them.  He finally decided
that no Colonist was likely to wander away from this place in the middle
of Borella?s nighttime mode.
     ?Watch out for cold spots,? he cautioned Troy as he ducked his head
under a rusted crane that clearly hadn?t seen use in over a generation. 
The Colonial captain glanced around warily, as if he could actually see a
cold spot.
     ?You?ll know when you hit one,? his wingman assured him.
     Toth?s eyes narrowed. ? Where did Varton go??
     ?Beats me,? said Dillon. ?But this is an awfully warm spot where I?m
standing and I?m reluctant to move.?
     Troy wrinkled his nose.  ?Smells like a warrior?s gear locker down
here.?
     ?I was going to say it smells like Dr. Mortinson?s chemistry lab,?
said Dillon.  ?Listen, if Varton never does anything but lead us down
here, I?m grateful for his help. But we do need a plane. Where are we
going to spend the night.  Everything down here does look fairly
expensive.?
     Toth held up a small communications device.  ?Tok gave me his direct
link before we left.  He said we could contact the ship and one of the
crew would come and meet us. I don?t care what Mr. Varton says, maybe
there is a way to get you off the ship tonight.  I?m sure you would be
more comfortable spending the night on the Shanavas.?
     ?Yeah,? agreed Troy, ?and we?d be able to call the commander.  Let?s
try it.  I say we ditch both Varton and good old Moc.?
     ?Go ahead,? said Dillon.
     Toth activated the device and waited until it beeped.  ?Attache Toth
to Shanavas shuttle,? she said. ?Come in, Tok.?  When there was no
response, she repeated, ?Attache Toth to Shanavas shuttle.  Come in Tok. 
This is top priority----come in!?
     She tapped the device.  ?It acts like it?s working, and I?ve used
these compact units before.  Because they?re coded for one frequency,
they are usually very reliable.?
     ?Maybe all this junk around us is interfering with it,? suggested
Troy.
     ?That shouldn?t make any difference.? In frustration, Toth tried
again, saying the same words and achieving the same results, with one
difference.  This time she studied the readouts on the device?s tiny
screen.
     ?Out of range,? she said with confusion.  ?This device is telling me
that the Shanavas is out of range. There?s only one explanation for that.
It?s left the Borella.?
     ?Why would they leave the Borella?? asked Troy with disbelief.  
     Toth squared her shoulders.  ?I don?t know.?

*********************

CHAPTER 12
IN A NETHERWORLD

     Kar nestled in Kal?s bosom, trying to tell himself he didn?t have to
get up, he didn?t have to leave.  But he knew it was a lie.  He knew as
surely as his name wasn?t Moc that he was neglecting urgent business,
including friends who were taking risks for him.  He had come to the
Borella to squash his enemies, not take pity upon them and bequeath a
substantial amount of cubits to them!  Ye that is precisely what had
happened, all because he was soft and couldn?t resist a woman?s arms.
     Quite a woman?s arms they were, he had to admit.  Many men would
never have neglected a prize like Kal for any amount of promotions and
honors, but Kar wasn?t many men.  If he had been, he doubted whether Kal
would have wed him.  He was not an ideal choice for her-----a young Nomen
from a lesser circle with nothing to show, nothing at all----but she had
been an ideal choice for him.  Under her tutelage, he had learned how to
curry favor and rise in the circles, and he had quickly surpassed her in
ambition and ruthlessness.  She took pride in his accomplishments, but
she also maintained a distance, as if he were an experiment gone awry.
     Kal never seemed surprised at what he did, even this latest ploy.
Despite all other women, she was truly the only one for him, but she was
never enough to keep him from his destiny.  He had a role to fulfill on
the Galactica that went beyond the petty concerns of Nomen society; every
day he spent there convinced him of it.  However, his career seemed less
important than ever at this moment.
     Kar pressed himself against Kal?s compact body, and she moaned at
his touch but remained asleep.  Despite his resolve to leave, he didn?t
want to.  He had to admit that even Kar of the Third Circle, ambassador
to the Council of Twelve aboard the battelstar Galactica, the most
important diplomatic post in the fleet?even he needed comfort and
forgiveness.  Kar welcomed the blissful anesthesia of lovemaking, which
had always been so satisfying with Kal.  Every molecule of her body had
belonged to him once, and he knew how to please each of them.  This night
reminded him of their earliest nights together, when she had taken him
in, and he had been the grateful one.
     For an instant, he wondered if he and Kal could simply run away to
Earth, leaving the rigid society and impossible commitments of the fleet
far behind them.  They could be like this----a plain man in love with a
plain woman----and maybe then he and Kal could really build a life
together.  But he worried that his selfishness and ambition were too
deeply ingrained.  He was already plotting how to escape.
     In her sleep, she twisted away from him, and he used that moment to
slip his arm free and rise to his feet.  It felt odd to have to steal
away from his own bedroom, but Kar hadn?t earned the right to remain
here.  He scooped up his clothing and dashed into the sitting room.  As
he pulled on his pants, he remembered that he was officially dead; if
there was ever a time to start a new life, this was it.  Then he shook
his head.  Kar had too much to live for, and the sooner he set matters
straight with the Rog family, the better.
     He desperately hoped that Kal?s blood money would mollify the Rog
family, but he didn?t think it would.  When they found out he was alive,
they would want more money, or his hide, or both.  He had to meet
face-to-face with that angry daughter, offer her a settlement that was
good enough, or a threat that was strong enough.  If he didn?t have the
courage to kill her, he would have to live with her.  As tempting as it
was, it wasn?t possible to live with her.  As tempting as it was, it
wasn?t possible to lie in Kal?s arms and ignore the past.
     ?Don?t forget your disguise,? said a voice.  He turned around to
find Kal standing in the doorway, her robe hanging open.  She tossed the
false forehead to the floor.
     ?It?s not that I want to go,? he said apologetically.
     She smiled wearily.  ?You never want to go----it?s always business,
duty, or necessity.?
     ?In this case, it?s all three,? said Kar, pulling on a boot. ?But
I?ll be back when this is over.?
     ?I?m sure you will.  But I many not be here when you get back.? Kal
shut the bedroom door softly, not slamming it, just shutting it.
     With one boot on, Kar hobbled to the door and began to knock.  Then
he realized that he had nothing more to say to his spouse.  She had heard
all his excuses and rationalizations many times, and they didn?t register
anymore.  She truly knew him better than anyone, his equal parts bravery
and bluster, his independent, selfish streaks.  One thing they had in
common----they were both people of action.  He marveled at the way she
had moved decisively to appease the Rog family, while he had let the
situation fester for yahrens.  Physically, emotionally, socially, and in
every other way they were suited to each other, yet he kept running off
at moments when they could be getting closer.
     That was the great gamble of their marriage, the risk he took
whenever he left Kal.  Did she mean it, about possibly not being there
when he returned?
     Kar sat down to pull on his other boot.  Then he picked up his
forehead appliance from the floor and carefully smoothed it over his real
forehead ridges.  He reinserted the blue contact lenses that gave his
face such a bland appearance.  Once again, he was Moc, a simple
serviceman from the Shanavas.  
     He went again to Kal?s door, wondering if he should give her a
parting word.  But he still had nothing new to say.  In the end,
neglecting Kal could be the worst mistake of his life, much worse than
smearing Rog.  One day, he knew, he would have to answer for his neglect
of his marriage along with everything else.
     He took a final glance at his disguise in the mirror and was
satisfied.  The Nomen crewman keyed in the unlocking sequence, opened the
hatch, and hurled himself into the ship?s ?night.?  He put his head into
the air and strode down the walkway toward the catwalk.  He had told Toth
and the humans to wait for him in the tavern, but he had no desire to
spend much time in a public place.  He had taken enough risks already. 
The weak Colonials were probably cold by now, so they shouldn?t remind
returning to the Shanavas as soon as possible.
     Figuring that he might as well summon his friend, Kar took a small
device from his belt.  He pressed it, waited for the beep, then began to
talk.  ?This is Moc to Tok aboard Shanavas shuttle.  Come in, Tok aboard
Shanavas shuttle. Respond, please.?
     When no one answered, he studied the device and shook it in his ear. 
?Bah!? he muttered.  ?The Colonials make better links than this.?  He
tried contacting the shuttle again, and this time he watched the
readouts.
     Out of range?
     How in the name of the Martyrs was that possible?  Kar tried to stay
calm.  He and Tok had talked about the possibility of the Shanavas begin
reassigned to another fleet ship, or having to respond to another pickup
request.  Both prospects seemed remote, given the Shanavas? prestigious
position among all the inter-fleet shuttles.  Still, it would seem as if
the Shanavas had left the Borella; there was no other logical explanation
for their being out of range.  Under normal circumstances, Kar would have
dozen options, ranging from ordering another inter-fleet shuttle to
commandeering quarters on any deck.  Unfortunately, the options of a dead
man were limited at best.
     Troubled, Kar put the device away and strode across the catwalk. 
This was a temporary inconvenience, he assured himself.  The Shanavas
might have left the ship to refuel from one of the tanker ships, take on
supplies from another freighter, ferry passengers to another ship, or any
number of errands. It didn?t mean he was stranded here.
     The soothing darkness on the catwalk helped to calm his fears, and
Kar convinced himself that his disguise was almost foolproof.  Especially
when the ship was in nighttime mode. Even Nomen who knew him personally
were unlikely to pay much attention to him.  All he had to do was find
his friends, and they could put their heads together and decide how to
proceed.  The ambassador stepped determinedly off the bridge and headed
for the tavern where he had left his comrades.
     Laughter and raucous voices poured from the tavern and gave Kar a
moment?s hesitation.  Then he reminded himself that Hecba Section was a
civilized place, without the usual riffraff.   He puffed up his chest and
entered the dusky tavern, thinking that he would have little difficulty
locating three humans in this crowed.  Even though he peered into every
corner of the establishment, he saw only young Nomen, the privileged sons
and daughters of the ruling circles.  In his youth, he had tried to run
with a crowd like this, but he had never been immature enough.  He
couldn?t spend entire evenings frittering away his time, as they could.
     ?Are you lost?? a young aristocrat asked snidely.  ?This isn?t the
landing bay.?
     Kar started to scowl at him, then he remembered that they weren?t
seeing Kar of the Third Circle----they were seeing a common crewmember, a
tribesman.  He bowed apologetically and held out his hands.
     ?I was told there were human passengers in here. Has anyone seen any
human passengers??
     ?The humans left centons ago!? shouted the proprietor.  
     ?And you will, too,? added a customer, ?if you know what?s good for
you!?
     Now the raucous laughter was at his expense, but Kar kept smiling
and bowing.  He had spent so much time on the Galactica that he had
forgotten how lower classes were unwelcome on certain decks before
daytime mode.  Kar kept bowing politely as he backed his way out the
door, which caused him to run into a large human in a black uniform.
     ?Watch it there!? said a man from Council Security, shoving Kar
aside.  ?Get back to your job, shuttle man!?
     ?I was just leaving,? Kar assured the blackshirt, almost scraping
the floor with his bow.  To demonstrate, he hustled up the walkway toward
the rim of the balcony, and the blackshirt nodded with satisfaction and
ducked inside the tavern.  Kar did an impressive about-face and slipped
past the tavern, headed deeper into Hecba Section.
     Now he was worried.  It was not a good sign that both the Shanavas
and his comrades were gone.  True, he had lingered much too long in Kal?s
bed, and he couldn?t blame the humans for not waiting centons for him in
a slight chill.  Plus, the clientele of the tavern had turned rather
unpleasant.  The humans had probably returned to the shuttle, Kar told
himself.  Yes, that was a logical explanation to one mystery, but it
didn?t explain why Toth was gone.  Toth should have realized his
precarious position and been there waiting for him.
     Kar halted in mid-step.  What if they hadn?t gone back to the
shuttle? Where would the humans go?  To the warmer bowels of the ship, he
imagined, someplace he would not dare to go.  They could get away with
going down there, because they were Colonists, but in his shuttle
crewman?s garb he would stand out like a Tauran?s hair.  Plus, he had no
money, having given his emergency funds to Varton.  He could imagine his
friends and acquaintances dining late on the tarmac level, by the warmth
of the hissing pipes and artificial geysers.  Perhaps they were making a
toast to his departed soul?
     What madness had brought him to this point?  Alone, cubit-less,
unrecognized aboard his home ship, and wearing the disguise of a simple
crewman----he must have been atoning for some terrible sins.  The idea of
coming out in the open, revealing all of his secrets, was beginning to
appeal to Kar.  What worse could Nomen society do to him than he had done
to himself? He was in a netherworld, neither dead nor alive, caught
between these floating steel shells and the heavens.
     Kar tried to mold into the shadows, hoping he could avoid the
authorities for the entire nighttime mode.  He trusted Toth to eventually
return to the tavern, the place they had agreed to meet. Plus, he saw no
reason to stray too far from Kal?s apartment in case he needed a genuine
sanctuary.  He thought about going back there now, but his pride wouldn?t
let him.  If need be, he had his fake identicard and his excuse to be
looking for human passengers.
     Kar settled into an open duct in the wall, hoping the Colonials were
passing a better evening than he was.

****************************************

     Dillon, Toth, and Troy stared sullenly at each other.  They were
tired of discussing what they should do.  Toth wanted to return to the
tavern to look for Kar, and Dillon wanted to contact Commander Adama. 
Varton was still missing in action, so he couldn?t be polled. Troy was
content to stand near a sputtering fountain that stunk like a stinkor,
but shot warm steam around his legs and waistline.  All three of them
wanted to contact the Shanavas, but that didn?t seem to be an option.  
     ?We can?t abandon Kar,? whispered Toth, reviving her favorite
argument.
     Dillon sighed.  ?We?ve gone out on plenty of limbs for Kar.  Maybe
it?s time we started thinking about our mess instead of Kar?s mess. 
We?ve been out of contact with our superiors for days, we?re out of
contact with the Shanavas, and we?re aiding and abetting a fraudulent
death scheme.  The Borella in nighttime mode is colder than humans can
stand, and we seem to have wandered into a ritzy nightclub section.?
     Troy cut in. ?Plus we lost Varton, and he?s my responsibility. Which
way did you say he went??
     Dillon sighed.  ?I told you, he took a right turn out of the lift
and I lost him when I hit that cold spot.?
     ?Right.? Troy?s gaze drifted toward a Nomen couple who were walking
among the bubbling pools, and he followed them with his gaze.  Now he
understood where Kar?s overly mannered style came from; it was de rigueur
among this class of people.  Just then, from deeper inside the jumbles of
plump tubes and terrariums that extended as far as the eye could see,
Dillon spotted a colorful blimp moving among the aristocratic Nomen,
looking completely alien, like a parade flag slicing through a sea of
bronze statues.
     ?Excuse me,? Troy told his friends, as he took of at a jog. 
?Varton!  We?re over here!?
     ?Troy!? shouted the trader, waving his stubby arms.  The Nomen
regarded the uncouth humans through hooded eyes, but the two men
converged and began to speak in low tones.  The denizens went back to
polite repartee.
     ?Where in Hades have you been?? said Troy, suspecting that Varton
had given himself some extra time to conduct personal business.
     ?I?ve been trying to find us a place to stay.?  The trader sounded
hurt at Troy?s accusatory tone.  ?And I?ve been successful, although it
won?t be cheap.?
     ?Why am I not surprised?? Troy scowled and turned around to see Toth
and Dillon approaching. Neither one of them looked particularly pleased
to see Varton, and they regarded him with sullen faces.
     ?You?re our guide and we need some guidance,? said Dillon.
     Toth crossed her arms. ?I am going to the top and wait for our
missing comrade.?
     ?Hold on just a micron,? said Varton. ?Let me tell you what I?ve
arranged.  There are several luxury suites here, but this is the social
season, and they?re all filled.  However, I have prevailed upon an old
associate to give us one of the second-best suites.?
     Troy cleared his throat.  ?How much of a cut are you getting out of
this??
     ?My friend,? protested Varton, ?you cut me to the quick!  If you can
make a better arrangement, please do so.? He winked at Toth.  ?Besides,
this is the most romantic time of yahren in Hecba Section.?
     ?I?m not staying,? said Toth.  ?I intend to look for Moc and contact
the Shanavas, as was our original plan.?
     ?Oh, yeah!? Varton produced a fresh newspad and squinted at it.  ?I
don?t read Borellian as well as I used to, but I take it there?s been an
explosion on one of the other ships.  Every inter-fleet shuttle was
summoned to help transport the injured to the Battlestar Galactica,
including the Shanavas.?
     ?That?s highly unusual,? said Toth, grabbing the pad from his hand. 
?The Shanavas is the personal shuttle of the Inner Circle, not intended
to be used for rescue missions.  This is terrible luck for K...? She
started to say his name and caught herself on the first syllable.  ?Just
everybody,? she finished.
     ?Is the Shanavas really gone?? Dillon asked.
     Toth flipped to another page on the pad and nodded her head slowly. 
?She?s gone.  Although the action would seem more a ceremonial act of
moral support than an actual mercy mission, I suppose if we wanted to
show our fellow space voyagers that we stand shoulder-to-shoulder with
them, the Shanavas? presence would say more than a thousand words.?
     Varton clapped his hands.  ?Let?s not be so glum, shall we?  I can
tell you from experience there are worse places on the Borella to spend
the night than the tarmac level.  And far worse lodgings than I arranged. 
And tomorrow, if you still want to go to the no-man?s zone, I?ll take you
there. I know the way.?
     ?Think we can trust him?? Troy asked Toth.
     Toth nodded her head absently. ?Of course we can. After hearing this
news, I am more determined than ever to find Moc.  Hold the room for
us....we will meet you at???
     ?Hecba Lodging Number 67,? Varton finished.  ?Are you sure you want
to bring a crewman down here?  You know better than I....?
     Toth scowled. ?We?ll be careful.? With that, the determined Nomen
strode off.  Troy watched her until she ducked under some dripping
plastic tubing and vanished from sight.
     ?Lead on,? said Dillon with a resigned sigh.
     An ebullient Varton led them down the walkway through a stretch of
boutiques and cafes, interspersed with smelly pools.  The fancy java
houses were indeed packed, with Nomen who were as stiff and well-behaved
as mannequins.  Troy had to remember that these effete-looking snobs were
also armed, dangerous, and ruthless creatures.  The Nomen took stock of
their visitors as they walked past, but they seemed fairly blase about
the sight of Colonists.
     Troy was actually getting used tot he idea of spending the night in
the lap of luxury.  After all, luxury wasn?t a condition in which he
found himself very often.  Maybe he shouldn?t go kicking and screaming
against the idea.  Let the Colonial Service pay his expenses for once. 
     ?You there!? He heard a deep-voiced shout.
     All three humans stopped in their tracks and whirled around.  Troy
spotted three Nomen standing on a balcony that overlooked a small caf‚. 
The Nomen in the caf‚ regarded the Nomen on the balcony and nodded
approvingly at them.  Two of the Nomen on the balcony were
broad-shouldered males, but the third was an elegant woman wearing a
black gown and golden jewelry.
     ?Colonials, may we talk with you?? spoke the deep-voiced man, this
time sounding unusually polite for a Nomen.
     Troy shrugged.  ?Why not.?  He led his tiny party through the caf‚
to the patio beneath the balcony.
     The two men stepped back, as if deferring to the woman, and she
leaned over the balcony to study them.  Now Troy recognized her....it was
the noblewoman who had attended Kar?s memorial service, the same one who
had been visiting Kar?s widow when they showed up there.
     ?I am Pac,? she said pleasantly.  ?And you are the delegation from
the Galactica.  We have met twice today, but we didn?t have the
opportunity to talk.?
     She hadn?t seemed very interested in talking to them either time,
Troy recalled, but they had her attention now.  Before he could speak,
Varton made an exaggerated bow.
     ?Your ladyship, I am Varton, a former passenger of this lovely
vessel.  This is Lieutenant Dillon and Captain Troy.  It is an honor to
address a member of the Inner Circle.?
     Pac nodded at the compliment.  ?I had no idea you would be spending
the night in Hecba Section.  I simply want to make sure that your needs
are being met.  Is there anything you require??
     Troy answered quickly.  ?We need to contact our superior on the
Galactica.  The shuttle that brought us here was called away, and now
we?re not sure where to go.?
     The elegant woman straightened up and spoke to the man standing to
her left.  He nodded solemnly and went inside.  Pac leaned over to say,
?My cousin, who owns this compartment, has consented to let you use his
netlink.  He?s coming down to let you in.  I hope you have a pleasant
stay with us.?  With that, Pac glided back into the party room.
     Troy turned his attention to a hatch beneath the balcony.  The
little window set in the middle of the hatch looked like stained glass
and twinkled eerily.  He finally saw what made the strange twinkling
lights when a tall Nomen opened the door and held out a candelabra filled
with white candles.
     He bowed politely. ? Won?t you come in??
     Varton started to push past Troy, but the captain held out his hand. 
?No offense, Varton, but we?ve got to talk privately to the Commander.?
     ?That?s fine with me,? said Varton, pointing upward.  ?I?ll be
upstairs.  When you get a chance to hobnob with these people, you do it.?
     Varton brushed past him, and Troy shrugged at Dillon and followed
him inside the apartment.  The foyer reminded the captain of a carnival
fun house, because the walls were decorated with a mirrored surface that
reflected the candlelight and made it appear as if flickering candelabras
stretched into infinity.  There were also gently pulsing lights in the
ceiling, which were both disorienting and oddly relaxing.  He had to look
away from the hypnotic flashes and concentrate on his host?s face.
     ?I am Mon of the Third Circle,? said the man with a somber bow.
     ?Terrible about Kar, isn?t it?? said Varton morosely.  ?He was in
his prime.?
     ?He was gristle,? said Mon.
     ?Yes, he was gristle,? agreed Varton, as if they had been close
personal friends.
     ?Excuse me, sir,? interrupted Troy, ?the lady said you had a
netlink??
     ?Yes.? Mon bowed.  ?I am conducting a considerable amount of
business with other ships these days, so I?m on the central fleet net.  I
am certain all your codes will work.  Right this way.?
     He led them through a darkened boudoir that had faint echoes of
fading comets streaking across the sky.   They came upon a mirror that
made Troy look as chubby as Varton, and Mon pushed the door open to
reveal a well-appointed office.
     Varton stopped at the doorway.  ?Excuse me, sir, but I couldn?t help
smelling the tagro.  Do you think I could have a little sip of that
before we leave your splendid apartment??
     The Nomen smiled.  ?Certainly, Varton.  Please come upstairs with
me.?  He motioned to Dillon.  ?Take your time, and when you are done
please come upstairs.  Join us in a toast to Kar.?
     ?Thank you,? said Troy, looking doubtfully into the dimly lit room. 
?Excuse me, are we going to have privacy in here??
     ?It is my private office,? the Nomen assured him.  ?My business
depends on privacy.?
     The Nomen motioned to Varton, who was happy to lead the way out of
the bedroom and toward the party.  Troy followed Dillon into the office,
which was austere in comparison with the rest of the exotic furnishings. 
The terminal was a universal type the Dillon had no trouble deciphering. 
Troy stood watch at the door and finally just shut it, thinking that if
there were listening devices in the room there was little he could do
about it.  They had to trust Mon of the Third Circle, and they still had
to be careful.
     ?The link is going to take a few mili-centons,? said Dillon,
studying the board, ?but the request is going through.?
     Troy stuffed his hands in his pockets.  ?How do you want to handle
this from here??
     The lieutenant rubbed his eyes. ?Provided we get a good night?s
sleep, I say we go to the no-man?s zone first thing in the morning, like
Varton suggested.  I?m almost inclined to tell Rog?s family the truth, so
we can make it clear why we don?t want them to get near the Galactica.?
     ?That?s fine with me,? agreed Troy.  ?But what are we going to do
with Moc??
     ?I don?t know.? Dillon yawned, then gave him a smile.  ?Sorry.?
     ?I understand.  It?s warm in here, and it?s making me sleepy.?
     He was still yawning when Commander Adama?s bearded face appeared on
the central viewer.  ?Well, well. Captain Troy and Lieutenant Dillon!? he
said with relief.  ?There?s a possibility that Kar may not be dead.?
     ?We know all about it,? said Troy, leaning over Dillon?s shoulder. 
?This is not a secured channel, so let?s not go into the gruesome
details.?
     The commander nodded.  ?Very well, but something very odd is taking
place, and so I?ve decided to recall both of you.  Get the Shanavas to
bring you back immediately.?
     ?The Shanavas got sent on a mission,? said Dillon, ?and we still
haven?t talked to the Nomen Council.  We?re sort of marooned for the
night, but I think we?ll be okay.?
     Troy gave the commander a shrug.  ?Provided you?ll pick up the tab
on our lodging expenses.?
     ?Yes, yes, as long as you?re trying to come back as soon as
possible. I?ll send one of our shuttles for you if you can?t find a way
to get off the Borella by the end of the sectan. Don?t worry about how
much it costs?I?ll take it out of your bonuses.?  The commander forced a
smile, telling them that he was worried and wanted to see them come home.
     ?We?ll see you as soon as possible,? Dillon promised.  ?Considering
this new information, we fell we should pay a visit to the Rog family and
warn them about staying away from the Galactica.   Believe me, we don?t
want to spend any more time on this ship than we have to.?
     ?May the Lords of Kobol bless you.?
     ?You too, commander.?

***********************************************

CHAPTER 13
HOW QUICKLY THE NOVELTY OF BEING DEAD WEARS OFF

     Kar shifted uncomfortably from one leg to another, wishing he could
at least find a place to sit down.  But there were no benches on the
narrow walkways of Hecba Section, only an occasional passerby to hide
from.  At intervals he tried to contact the Shanavas, with no success. 
His lonely vigil was all the more irksome because he could think of
dozens of places where he would be welcome for the night, if only he were
Kar again.  It was amazing how quickly the novelty of being dead wears
off.
     He continued to marvel at the popularity of the seedy tavern a few
hatches away, especially among Nomen of a certain breeding.  He watched
them come and go, wondering if he had ever been as shallow and arrogant
as that.  He supposed so, which was a depressing thought.  Having never
been on the outside looking in at the upper circles, he had never
realized that the malcontents had a point.  Who was to say that the
vagaries of birth alone should determine a person?s future?
     There had to be tribesmen who were more deserving of the jobs for
which these spoiled youngsters were being groomed.  They would never get
the chance, however.  The best they could hope for would be a job
servicing a shuttlecraft like the Shanavas, where they would see
something of life in the rest of the fleet before they died, unsung,
without a fancy memorial service.
     Kar heard voices, and he turned to see two large figures approaching
him from a lower level. As they mounted the staircase to reach his level,
he again pressed himself into a crevice in the cold steel walls and tried
to look invisible.  For a tribesman, it seemed to be distressingly easy
to look invisible, he mused.  But not this time.
     One of the men shined a light directly into his face, blinding him
and forcing him to raise his hands.  The other one stepped forward and
knocked his hands down.  Kar tensed for a fight, then realized they were
Council Security and he was in the wrong place, dressed the wrong way.
     ?We had complaints about a person loitering on this level,? said the
one who had knocked his hands down.  ?Let?s see your face, Nomen.?
     ?Yes, sir,? answering Kar, turning his face from side to side and
squinting into the light.  ?Anything else.?
     ?Yes.  What?re you doing here?  This isn?t a place for a furlong.?
     ?I am crewman Moc of Shanavas shuttle,? said Kar, trying to sound
proud of his lowly station.  ?I am here, awaiting my passengers.?
     ?Isn?t the Shanavas the personal shuttlecraft of the Nomen Inner
Circle?? asked the other officer.
     ?Yes,? said Kar hesitantly, wondering why that should be notable.
     ?Then you story doesn?t fit.  Your shuttle was called away on a
mission.  Do you have an identicard??
     ?Yes,? Kar answered with a nervous gulp.  He fumbled in his
waistcoat for it, thinking how much trouble he was in.  If they took him
to the processing center in Scorbus Section, he would be searched and his
secret revealed, and he didn?t know whom he could trust in Council
Security.
     Smiling pleasantly at his tormentors, he handed them his identicard. 
One of the security men snatched it from him and ran it through a small
handheld device.  They both stared menacingly at him while they awaited
the results.
     ?I am Moc of the Shanavas,? he assured them.
     ?This is a funny place to wait for passengers,? remarked the
security man with the light.     ?Especially when your ship is elsewhere
in the fleet.?
     Kar shrugged and tried to smile, but his confidence was waining.  He
could remember times when he had reported suspicious people lurking in
Hecba Section, and he wondered if they had been treated as contemptuously
as this.  He supposed so, as the lines of Nomen social behavior were
tightly drawn.
     ?His identicard checks out,? reported the security man, sounding
disappointed.  ?I still say we bring him in.  His conduct and story are
both suspicious.?
     ?My story is true!? he protested.  Nevertheless, the two security
men grabbed his arms and hauled him rudely to the edge of the railing. 
For the moment, Kar feared they would throw him over.
     ?So there is my servant!? called another voice. The three humans
whirled to see a tall Nomen woman striding toward them.  When the
security man shined his light in her face, Kar was never so relieved to
see another Nomen in his entire life.  It was Toth!
     He bowed down to her.  ?Good evening, milady.  I explained to them
that I was waiting for you.?
     The security men peered suspiciously at Toth, and one of them
growled, ?Who in Hades are you??
     She grabbed his hand and directed the beam of light toward the
insignia on her chest.  ?Toth, diplomatic attache to the Battlestar
Galactica and aide to Ambassador Kar.?
     ?Oh!? exclaimed the security man, straightening to attention.  ?We
had reports of a suspicious person....?
     ?I was delayed,? explained Toth.  ?This crewman was following my
orders to the letter by waiting for me.?
     ?But the shuttle he works on is off the ship....?
     ?Temporarily and very suddenly,? said Toth. ?You know that the
Shanavas doesn?t stay away long from the Borella.  Crewman Moc is my
personal pilot.  Come along.?  She pushed Kar ahead of her, and he
shuffled gratefully down the walkway.
     The security men stood and watched for a while, but they didn?t
pursue.  Nevertheless, Kar and Toth put considerable distance between
themselves and the uniformed authorities before they stopped to talk.
     ?That was close!? said Kar.  ?Where have you been??
     Toth raised her ridged brow.  ?I could ask the same of you.?
     ?All right,? muttered Kar, ?now we?re even.  What happened to the
humans?  Did they make it back to the Shanavas??
     ?The Shanavas left before any of us knew about it,? said Toth. 
?We?re on our own, and that includes the humans.  At least they find it
habitable at the tarmac level.?
     Kar shook his head miserably.  ?I was counting on Tok.  Do you
notice, as soon as anybody starts to help me, they disappear!  I?ve
almost decided to confront the Rog family and tell them the truth.?
     ?Before we do anything really foolish,? said Toth, ?let?s get you
out of sight.  We supposedly have a lodging on the tarmac level.  Hecba
Lodging Number 67.?
     Kar scowled.  ?That pesthole??

*************************************

     At the party, Dillon had commenced shivering again. He could
tolerate the temperature, but there was a noticeable difference on the
second floor of the apartment compared to the tarmac.  The temperature
wasn?t the only thing that was chilly.  The Nomen seemed little
interested in talking to them, although they cast a hooded eye his way.
To be fair, he wasn?t feeling very sociable either, and he was content to
watch the cultured guests float in and out of the party.  He had seen Mon
briefly but Pac not at all since coming upstairs from the netlink in the
office.
     He could see Varton, flitting about from one congregation of Nomen
to another, running into a few old acquaintances, most of whom were
polite but noncommittal about meeting him again.  That was okay for
Varton; he was content to work the room and introduce himself.  Maybe he
was looking for his wife or someone who knew her, must Dillon; he
certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.  There came Troy chasing after
him, trying to get him away from the party.
     With reluctance, Varton made another round of handshakes and let
Troy push him to the staircase.  Dillon was right behind them.
     ?You?re missing a great opportunity,? Varton lectured them.  ?You
can?t even meet these kind of people on the Rising Star.?
     ?I meet Nomen every day,? growled Troy.  ?And I want to meet two of
them back at this luxury suite you keep talking about.  So lead on!?
     They tromped down the stairs and out onto the softly lit walkways
trodden by cultured Nomen.  Varton now acted like he was in a hurry, and
it was all he and Troy could do to keep up.  It was evident that he knew
this level well, and he led them past four very similar looking suites
only to arrive at the fifth, Hecba Lodging Number 67.
     The men seemed intent upon negotiating with the proprietor, who had
been standing outside the hatchway, so Dillon let them have their fun. 
That way, Troy would have to produce his cubits first.
     ?There are cheaper suites than the one we?re taking,? grumbled Troy.
     ?The best thing about the suite is it?s on the lowest level,?
insisted Varton.  ?There are hot bathtubs to lie around in, to keep it
warm and cozy, and you wouldn?t believe the laser show!?
     ?Let?s take it,? said Dillon.


****************************************

     While Troy grumbled about the overpriced suite in Hecba Section,
Mira?s mother and brother still celebrated the windfall of Kal?s money,
and they were poring over advertisements in old newspads that Het had
saved.  The only ones she saved, thought Mira angrily, were stories of
her father?s fall from greatness and his pathetic attempts to clear his
name.
     Het had no collection of his triumphs, only his failures, as If Rog
was totally defined by his fall.  Her mother?s fatalism and insipid
belief in getting things better on their own drove Mira crazy.  Many
nights she just had to get away from her.
     The young Nomen hated to be cynical, but she was.  She just couldn?t
believe that Kal?s money came with no string?s attached.  If she had
learned anything in her young life, it was that the bill for everything
came due sooner or later.  It had come due for her father, for her, and
even for Kar.  They would learn eventually what Kal needed from the Rog
family in exchange for this blood money.  Until then, she would reserve
judgment on Kal?s generosity.
     Mira stepped out of the shanty, heeding her instincts that she was
not alone in this dank, dark cargo bay.  No one was in sight, but some
people in the no-man?s zone never walked in the open.  She kept moving,
with no real destination in mind, except the thought of the
holes-in-the-wall shanties, where one might obtain illegal drugs, stolen
goods, sex, and even conversation, if one wasn?t too picky.  She should
have been afraid to slum around Vee-Tar, but she wasn?t.  Mira wasn?t
afraid of the evil, she knew, but she was afraid of the rustling in the
dark, the shadow that moved when she moved.
     She whirled around and dropped to a crouch, aiming her blaster at a
rusty tylium drum that was being used as a makeshift water source for the
little community.  ?Who?s there?  I?ll shoot!?
     ?Please!? came a tiny voice.  ?Don?t shoot, I?m only following
orders!? Behind the tylium drum, two scrawny arms shot into the air.
     ?Is that you, Paco?? she asked.
     ?Yes, yes!? cried the boy.  He ran out from behind the tylium drum
and did a cartwheel in the middle of the alley, landing perfectly on his
thin, bare legs.  Mira had never been able to peg Paco?s age
exactly....he was small for a Nomen and looked no older than ten full
yahrens.  But he often acted older, especially in the way he stayed up
all night and never left the streets.  She supposed that everyone who
lived in Vee-Tar aged prematurely.
     She holstered her weapon.  ?What do you mean, you were following
orders??
     ?I mean, a man paid me to find you.?  With awe, Paco reached into a
threadbare pocket and held out two cubits.
     ?To find me?? Mira asked with alarm.  She stopped and surveyed the
massive chamber, wondering who else was lurking in the shadows.
     The lad did another cartwheel and landed right beside her.  He
barely came up to her shoulders.  ?The man asked me if I knew which of
these shacks you lived in. I said I did, but I wouldn?t show him which
one----that could be dangerous.  I only agreed to watch for you and give
you a message.?
     ?What is this message?? asked Mira warily.
     ?There?s a shuttlecraft docked at Sargas Airlock.  You are to go
there and meet him.? Paco smiled and held out his hand, cocking his head
from side to side.  ?Now you will give me a reward, too.?
     ?Get out of here!? scoffed Mira.  She took a mock swing at the
youngster, but he deftly dodged it.  ?Who is this man??
     Paco shrugged. ?Do I look like I know people who zip around the
fleet from ship to ship in fine shuttlecrafts?  It is docked at Sargas
Airlock now. I would go see him, if I were you.?
     ?It wasn?t a Colonist, was it?? asked Mira.
     The boy laughed, and it was a surprisingly joyous sound.  ?A
Colonist?  That is even more rare than a shuttlecraft!?
     ?Some Colonists will be looking for us tomorrow,? said Mira
thoughtfully.  ?If you spot them first, you might have a chance to make
some more money.?
     ?Critical!? yelled the young Nomen.  Paco stared into his hand at
his newfound riches, then ran off into the dusty depths of the cargo bay,
a collection of gangly limbs.  He darted between two shacks and was gone.
     Mira took a deep breath and thought about going back to the shanty
to get her brother, to back her up.  But Kog wouldn?t flex a muscle now
that he had money again, however briefly.  The only place he would be
willing to go would be to the Rising Star, or take his chances among the
primitives of Earth.  More than ever, she felt alone and shut out from
everything----her family, her birthright, even her vengeance.  Besides,
this mysterious stranger hadn?t sent the boy to look for her whole
family, just her.
     She stuck to the center of Vee-Tar for as long a she could, then she
pulled out her knife and made for the hatchway.  There were people
burning debris, but they were a good fifty metrons away.  She skirted
along the wall until she reached the hatch, then she dashed through and
down the trash-covered stairway, slashing her knife as she went.
     Mira decided not to walk directly down the corridor, knowing she
might meet people she knew.  It was the centon of the night when almost
anyone might be skulking around outside the hatchway to the no-man?s
zone, and the its attractions were not unknown in the upper circles. 
Mira hoped this stranger wasn?t some playboy having a joke at her
expense, hoping to get his way with a woman who had fallen from grace. 
She wasn?t that desperate to brush up to power again.  Mira had endured
countless propositions since moving to this hovel, but she had
entertained none of them.  The daughter of Rog wanted to get back into
the upper circles, but she wanted to do so on her own terms.  Her
father?s reputation had to be rehabilitated at the same time.
     While not cramped, the sub-corridor that led to the no-man?s zone?s
main corridor was similar to the inside of one of the early Colonial
warships.  That is, it was full of sharp corners and hard girders to bark
your shins or to give you a concussion.  The young Nomen followed a time
honored rule for space voyagers: "one hand for the ship, one hand for
you."  In other words, always keep a hand free, and when moving through
the corridors, you put you hand on the thing sticking out into the
passageway as you reach it.  And, after much lizardlike maneuvering, she
finally reached Sargas Airlock and set foot into it.
     Sargas Airlock was little more than a roomy closet containing an
outer access hatch and a full set of tools, power cutters and fire
fighting equipment, plus a complete database of that particular area of
the ship.  There, on one of the monitors, a gray, unmarked shuttlecraft
was linked up to the airlock, just as Paco had foretold. 
     Mira walked toward the airlock hatch, her hand on her blaster.  If
the image on the monitor was anything to go by, it was, indeed, a very
fine shuttlecraft, better than the military had.  As she drew closer, the
hatch hissed open.  She froze with her hand on her weapon, waiting.  A
man dressed in evening finery, as if he were about to dine in Hecba
Section, stepped into the airlock chamber.  He looked around, making sure
she hadn?t been followed or molested, then he nodded to her.  When she
stepped closer, he motioned inside the expensive shuttlecraft.
     ?A lady would like to speak with you,? he said.
     ?A lady?? She stared at him warily.  ?Kal, the widow??
     The man smiled with amusement.  ?No.?
     ?Enter,? called a woman?s steely voice. It was the kind of voice
that brooked no nonsense, and Mira climbed aboard the shuttlecraft
without further hesitation.  This was a royal summons, and she was still
Nomen enough to obey.
     Seated at the navigator?s station was a woman wearing a long, black
cgown, with her legs crossed seductively.  Mira recognized her
immediately, having seen her earlier in the day.  It was Pac of the Inner
Circle.  The young Nomen had the sinking feeling that she was going to
get the bill for Kal?s gratitude before even a single cubit had been
spent.  If this was a warning to keep her place and keep her mouth shut,
Mira was going to give this woman an earful.
     ?You are angry all the time, aren?t you?? observed Pac.
     ?Yes,? answered the younger woman.  ?I?m waiting for a reason to be
content.?
     ?I?m afraid I can?t give you that,? Pac suppressed a smile.  ?Seeing
as how you?re already angry, I don?t feel too badly about telling you
something that will make you even angrier.?
     ?That would be difficult.?
     ?I don?t think so.  What if I told you that Kar had faked his death
and was still alive??
     ?What?? Mira was trembling.
     ?You heard me, and it is the truth. I suspected something was amiss
with Kar?s death, and the Colonials confirmed it just tonight.?
     ?They helped him fake his death?? asked Mira, thinking that the
human she had met didn?t seem the type for underhanded fraud.
     ?No, they only discovered what he did a short time ago themselves. 
I eavesdropped when they were talking with their commander on the
Galactica.  It is definite----Kar is alive.  If you don?t believe me, you
can wait for a few days, and the news will come out on its own.?
     Still in shock, Mira ran her hands over her scalp.  She could still
feel the scar where she had sealed her Blood Hunt vow.  ?If he lives,
then I will not be denied.?
     ?Oh, he lives,? Pac assured her.  ?And you won?t be denied if you
move swiftly.  My spies believe he is aboard our ship now....he may even
be visiting with the Colonials, wearing a disguise.  This is the time,
while he is supposedly dead and is still within easy reach.?
     Mira growled and shook her fist.  ?That blasted Thenta
Society----they lied to me!?
     Pac shrugged.  ?It isn?t the first time they?ve taken credit for
something  they didn?t do.  They are snakes.?
     ?But why would Kar do this thing??
     ?Fear of you.?
     The young Nomen smiled, feeling the blood surging within her breast,
flowing to her brain and muscles.  Her message to Kar had gotten through,
and not only would she kill him, she would make him suffer for his
treachery.  It pleased her to know that he had already suffered enough to
fake his own death. Then she realized that Kal?s blood money might have
come from Kar, with his blessings!  He couldn?t buy his way out of this,
but she wouldn?t stop him from trying.  Maybe they could have his money
and his blood.
     Pac nodded with satisfaction. ?I see that you were the right person
to inform about this chicanery.?
     ?And why did you tell me??
     The noblewoman?s face hardened into a ghastly mask of hatred.  ?You
and your family are not the only ones he had hurt.  He has hurt someone
very dear to me, and I want to see him pay for it.  Unfortunately, he has
never committed a crime against the Nomen Council, so I am powerless. 
But no one could deny the honor of your Blood Hunt.?
     ?No one will,? vowed Mira.  ?Can you help me??
     ?I have already helped you.  His confederates who brought him here
are gone, and he is cut off from any outside help.  His aide, Toth, might
still be loyal to him, and she could be a problem.  As for the Colonists,
they strike me as inconsequential.?
     ?I?m not so sure of that,? said Mira.  ?But if they are helping Kar,
then they are like his arms and legs and must be broken!  Anyone who
stands in the way of my Blood Hunt is the enemy.?
     ?You could use the Colonists to get to Kar,? suggested Pac with a
twinkle in her eye.  ?But I leave the details up to you.?
     ?Thank you, mistress,? Mira put a fist to her chest in salute.  ?You
have trusted the right person with this news. I will never forget this.?
     ?Just do the job,? said Pac gravely.
     Mira nodded and backed out the door.  The man waiting in the airlock
gave her a nod, as if was safe to proceed, then he climbed back into the
shuttlecraft.  Mira jogged away, quickening her step, when she heard the
airlock clang shut, the thrusters click on, and the shuttle noisily
disengaging from Sargas Airlock and zoom away to who-knew-where. 
     But, in talking to Pac, was she, in truth, saying goodby to that
life forever?  Was her mother right?  Was there a way back to the
privileged circles?
     No, thought Mira, there was only degradation and glory.  She had had
enough degradation, and now it was time for the glory.
     As Mira walked down the corridor, a million details crowded her mind
for attention.  One by one, she told herself, she would take care of the
details, because a thorough assassin plans well.
     ?Paco!? she cried. ?Paco, if you?re around, come out here!?
     The boy sprang out from behind a stack of storage crates and did a
somersault in front of her.  ?By your command!? he said, bounding to his
feet.
     Mira lowered her voice.  ?I will pay you five cubits if you simply
make sure that the humans----and the Nomen who accompany them?arrive at
my mother?s shanty tomorrow.  They will come to the no-man?s zone
tomorrow. I?m certain.?
     ?Critical!? replied the boy.  ?This is a lucky time for me!?
     ?For me too, I hope,? said Mira.  Without another word to the boy,
she strode all the way back to Vee-Tar and headed for the first shanty on
her left, known as the Bunker.  
     There was a husky lookout by the entrance to the Bunker, but he knew
her.  He might or might not let her in, because he knew she was often bad
for business. At least she never indulged in the kind of business
everyone wanted from her.  She brushed past the lookout, giving him a
shoulder that knocked him back into his seat.
     When she reached the dark interior of the crudely-built Bunker, she
could tell there were a fair number of reprobates and cutthroats, exactly
the kind of people she wanted to see. When they saw her, standing in the
entrance with her hands on her slim hips, they gave her the usual rude
remarks, followed by slurred laughter.  But tonight, she had a comeback
for them.
     Mira yelled, ?Are there any sniveling cowards from the Thenta
Society in this shanty??
     That silenced the ribald conversation very quickly and won her
everybody?s attention. ?If the Thenta Society is here, and they aren?t
hiding behind their father?s aprons, let them meet me outside.  As for
you others, I am hiring good fighters for one hundred cubits a day!?
     That lifted the conversation to a fevered level of good cheer,
eliciting cries of, ?I?m your man!? and ?I?d kill my own children for
that!?
     ?I?ll be back, she promised them. She walked past the lookout at the
entryway, and he gave her a quizzical look but didn?t challenge her.  For
one hundred cubits, thought Mira, he was probably considering joining
her.
     Mira strode out into the cargo bay and slumped against a support
pole.  She crossed her arms, hiding the blaster in the crook of her
elbow, and waited.  She didn?t think it would be long, considering the
advanced communications of the Thenta Society, and it wasn?t.  She felt
him crawl up beside her, like a lizard seeking warmth.  Having nothing to
cover his face with, he kept to the shadows.
     ?Are you causing trouble for us again?? he asked.
     ?I?m only beginning to cause you trouble,? she promised.  ?First you
botched my father?s contract, and now you?ve lied to me about killing
Kar??
     ?Did we now?? sneered the assassin.  ?Then who did kill Kar??
     ?Nobody!  He?s still alive!?
     The dark figure bolted upright and his impressive chin jutted into
the light. ?Are you serious, girl?  If you are trifling with the Thenta
Society....?
     ?A plague on the Thenta Society!  I have more to fear from the
Cylons than you lazy buffoons.  You are trifling with me!  I just want
you to know that I am finished with you.  I will show you how it?s done.?
     She started to leave, but the man gripped her arm.  He held tightly,
painfully, almost pinching off her blood supply. ?If this is true, we
will fulfill that contract,? he vowed. ?We will be there when you have
failed.?
     Mira yanked her arm away and howled with laughter.  She didn?t care
if she sounded insane, because aboard this terrible ship what good did
sanity do?  She sauntered away from the assassin, laughing.  The Thenta
Society were only for insurance, in case she failed; they were angry
enough to do the job properly this time.  She still intended to kill Kar
herself, and his guardians if need be.

*************************************

     Hecba Lodging Number 67, pricey though it was, was all that Varton
had promised, complete with a hot bath fashioned out of stainless steel. 
The bath was in one of the bedrooms, and Dillon stripped off his clothes,
and immersed himself.  The rotten-smelling water was almost unbearably
hot, but he found a cool current flowing from one small spigot and
planted himself there.  Currents of two contrasting temperatures flowed
around his body, and Dillon lay back and passed his hand over the panel
on the edge of the tub.  At once, the ceiling was engulfed by twinkling
patterns of subtle lights cast against what looked like the black velvet
of space.
     Their luggage was on its way to a distant ship, but he had his
uniform, a heavy coat, and now a bath. With those elements, he could
survive any journey, thought Dillon, although he knew he would miss the
java aboard the Shanavas.
     On the other side of the door, Varton threw himself onto a plush
couch with a dozen striped pillows.  He and Troy were in the common area
of the suite, between the two bedrooms.  When Varton began lowering the
lights and bringing up weird patterns in the ceiling, Troy interrupted
him.  ?Before you make yourself too comfortable, we?ve got to find the
other two people with are party.  ?The landlords are Nomen,? said Varton. 
?They know everybody who comes and goes, especially down here. They?ll
know who Toth is the moment they see her, and they?ll send her along. 
I?m a little worried about that other one, Moc, but if you say you need
him, then you need him.  Me, I?m going to relax.?
     He put his hands behind his back and closed his eyes. ?Believe me,
Troy, on this ship you could be in worse places than this.?
     The captain was pacing, trying to tell himself that he should go
outside and at least sit watch for Toth and Moc, when the chime on the
door sounded.  He rushed to the panel that opened the door, and he was
extremely relieved to see Toth and the ambassador, still wearing his
disguise.  Troy?s initial relief turned to anger as he thought about the
wasted days Kar had put them through with this stunt.  Troy was about to
bawl Kar out when he remembered Varton sitting there, grinning
innocently.
     ?Do forgive me,? apologized Kar as soon as the door zipped shut. 
?For being late, for bringing you here, for subjecting you to this. 
Where is Lieutenant Dillon??
     Varton pointed a fat thumb at the rear door.  ?Don?t feel sorry for
him, he?s taking a bath.  But we were a little worried about you, Moc. 
They aren?t friendly to the lower classes around here....better watch
your step.?
     Kar rubbed his eyes.  ?Can we continue this conversation in the
morning?  I think it?s a good idea for all of us to get some sleep.?
     ?I?m comfortable here,? said Varton.  ?You fellows can have the rest
of the dormitory.?
     Toth suddenly stepped toward the pudgy trader and stared down at
him.  Varton flinched as if he was about to get slugged, but Toth bowed
respectfully.  ?You have done well, Varton, finding these quarters.  I
for one am very pleased that you are a member of our party.? She glanced
at Troy.  ?If it were up to me, I would take you into confidence.?
     Varton leaped to his feet and took her hand.  ?Thank you, dear lady. 
Coming from you, that is quite a compliment.  Don?t worry about taking me
into your confidence.  I?ve always found that when people start telling
you their secrets, it?s because they want something from you. We have an
amenable relationship, and Captain Troy says we have only one destination
tomorrow before my duties are finished.?
     ?The Rog family?? asked Kar.
     Troy nodded.
     ?Good. I have something to say to them.? Kar strode through the
bedroom door and slammed it shut behind him.
     Varton leered at Toth.  ?After tomorrow I?ll be a free man and can
get on with my love affair with the Borella. ˙This is a wonderful time to
be in Hecba Section?I don?t suppose you could arrange to stay for a few
days??
     Toth shook her head. ?We?ll have to see what happens tomorrow.?
     ?Just so,? agreed Varton.  ?Before we make any plans, let?s see what
happens tomorrow.?

********************

CHAPTER 14
THE END OF THE LINE

     Troy had to admit that the pickled eggs were pretty tasty, but he
didn?t want to ask what kind of animal they came from.  At any rate, the
breads, broth, and eggs seemed to appeal to everyone in the suite,
although Dillon complained that there wasn?t any java.  The Borella had
gone into daytime mode a centon ago, and at Troy?s insistence they were
getting an early start.
     ?What kind of place is this no-man?s zone?? he asked of no one in
particular.
     Toth and Kar looked at one another as if they weren?t eager to
answer that question.  Kar, who was still wearing his Moc disguise,
lowered his head.
     Varton piped up.  ?It?s the slums, the ghetto, the end of the line. 
The place we want to go is in a freight and storage section that hasn?t
been used since we fled the Colonies.  You can?t get any lower than these
places.  You wouldn?t think the captain of this tub would tolerate such a
place.?
     Kar pursed his lips.  ?It?s much like Down Below on the Galactica.?
     ?Then it?s dangerous,? said Troy, gazing at the Nomen.  ?Since we?re
stupid dignitaries, we came here unarmed.  What kind of weapons do you
have??
     Toth took a Colonial Service pistol out of the holster on her
waistcoat.  ?Standard  issue.?
     Kar looked thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to make up his mind
about something.  He finally frowned and pulled a hidden belt from under
his tunic.  It had two laser guns on it and two solonite charges.
     Troy nodded appreciatively.  ?Good.  Why don?t you hang on to one
laser and give the other one to Lieutenant Dillon.  I?ll take the
solonite charges.?
     Reluctantly, Kar handed one of the pistols to Dillon, then he handed
the belt with the two charges to Troy.  The captain inspected the devices
and was satisfied that he could use them in an emergency, a very dire
emergency.
     He glanced at Varton. ?You don?t mind being armed, do you??
     Varton shrugged.  ?If I can?t talk my way out of a situation, I
probably can?t shoot my way out either.  We?re just going to pay a
courtesy call, aren?t we?  What?s the danger in that??
     All eyes turned to Kar.  He scowled and rose to his feet.  ?Varton,
if you don?t want to go, you don?t have to.  I?m sure Toth and I can find
our way through the no-man?s zone.  I?ve been there a time or two.?
     ?Oh, no,? said Varton, springing to his feet. ?I insist.  You folks
have been wonderful to me, putting me up in Hecba Section, feeding
me....I want to pull my own weight.  Once you get to know me, you?ll find
that I always fulfill a contract.?
     ?That?s very commendable,? said Toth.  ?Our intent is not to put
ourselves in danger, but Captain Troy is correct. This is a dangerous
section of the ship----with thieves and cutthroats?and we don?t? want you
to take unnecessary risks.?
     ?I haven?t been to the no-man?s zone very often,? Varton said.  ?I
may never get a chance to go there again with fellow Colonists.  But I
can guide us to the lifts. That is how we?re going, isn?t it??
     Kar scowled.  ?A faster way would be to enter through Sargas
Airlock.  But we can only do that with a shuttlecraft, and since we have
none, there is no alternative but to use the lifts.?
     Varton opened the hatch and stepped into the blinding lights
streaking down the internal walls of the ship, with the others trailing
behind him.  Troy took the rear position, feeling like a human time bomb
with the solonite charges strapped to his chest.  Under normal
circumstances, he wouldn?t have been worried about a simple
interrogation, even if it was on an unfamiliar ship.  However, the
unspoken consensus was that they should end the charade of Kar being
dead.  A logical place to start would be by telling the Rog family.
     Kar had told Troy about the cubits that had been settled upon the
disgruntled family, and his hopes that it would soften up their hatred. 
But Troy wasn?t sure it would work on that spitfire, Mira, who had nearly
cooked him on the walkway yesterday.  She was going to be a handful no
matter what, he had a feeling.
     The air in the ship was nippy but not frigid, and there was the
promise of more warmth soon.  The heat probably wouldn?t become gruesome
for another five or six centons yet, thought Troy.
     ?This is more like it,? said Dillon.  He took off his coat and tied
the sleeves around his waist.
     Varton pointed along the strip of boutiques and cafes, most of which
were deserted at this early centon.  ?We need to take the lift to the
third level.  As I recall, that?s where the lift that?ll take us to the
no-man?s zone is.?
     ?Correct,? Kar confirmed.  The fake crewman looked as if he wanted
to take the lead, but he lowered his head and followed behind Toth, as
befit his station in life.
     They would their way through the pipes and geysers, which looked
more like a plastic and metal swamp than a romantic playground for
wealthy Nomen.  Wordlessly, they strode through the tarmac level and
ducked under the swollen plastic tubing and terrariums.  They filed
quickly down the corridor toward the inner chamber that housed the lift. 
Varton bent down and touched the map, illuminating the path to the third
level and the lift that would take them to no-man?s zone.  The doors
opened immediately, and they stepped onto the platform.
     The rapid rise left Troy?s stomach around his ankles, but he managed
to ask Varton, ?Do we have to cross the catwalk??
     ?I?m afraid so,? answered Varton.
     There was nothing to see as they rose through sheer steel within the
ship?s wall.  The upper lift chamber looked exactly like the lower one,
until they stepped out on the walkway and saw a vertical drop of a
kilometron or two.  Troy took a deep breath, thinking that spending much
time aboard the Borella would give him permanent vertigo.  As the small
band marched along a narrow walkway, he stuck close to the wall.
     Varton and the two Nomen stepped briskly onto the first catwalk they
came to, and Troy forced himself to emulate them.  That left Dillon
bringing up the rear.  Troy didn?t exactly dash across the catwalk, as
Varton and the Nomen did, but he did tell himself that it was safe.
     Despite his newfound calm, he was relieved to get off the catwalk
and onto a solid ship?s deck, even if was only a balcony.  They were
about six levels above the tarmac, Troy estimated.  Varton, Toth, and Kar
climbed to the next level, as he waited to help Dillon off.
     He looked at him, ashen. ?I?m not going to miss those catwalks.  I
don?t see how the Nomen have lived here all this time.?
     Troy shrugged.  ?Some people think we?re crazy for living on a
battlestar.?
     ?Yeah,? said Dillon, ?but you can?t fall that far on a battlestar,
like you can here.  They generate enough gravity here to kill you.?
     They came up with the others just as they reached a widemouthed
passage on the third level.  Uniformed crewmembers were already filing
out of the passage for the day shift, but no one was filing in.  The
Nomen gave them apathetic stares, looking heavy-lidded and half-asleep. 
Troy was reminded of the Ovion workers on Carillon headed to the mines.
     ?Looks like we?re going against the traffic,? said Varton
cheerfully.  Once again, the stubby human led the way into the darkness,
with Toth and Kar trailing closely after him.  After the bright sunlight,
the clammy darkness of the passageway was both disconcerting and
depressing.  The passageway also preserved the chill from the previous
nighttime mode, and Dillon was forced to put his jacket back on.  Troy
walked slowly until his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, and he
finally saw the lift, this one decidedly low-tech and no-frills.  But it
looked efficient enough.  
     After making sure that they hadn?t lost the Galactican contingent,
Varton, Toth, and Kar stepped upon the lift platform.  Dillon and Troy
hurried to catch up, but they couldn?t see well in the darkness.  They
were on the lift platform before they new it, and Troy was almost thrown
off his feet by the jolt of the lift starting up.  Dillon doubled over
the handrail and hung on.
     ?Frak!? muttered Troy.  ?When they want you out of Hecba Section,
they want you out fast!? 
     ?We need to check transportation back to the Galactica,? said
Dillon. ?I want to leave right after we talk to the Nomen Council
tomorrow.  But first, let?s tell the Rog family that Kar is still alive.?
     ?But back on the Galactica,? Troy interjected.
     ?Yes.  We?ll tell them in no uncertain terms to stay away from the
Galactica. ˙Kar recently gave them a nice piece of change, so maybe
they?ll be sensible.?
     Troy scowled.  ?Nobody?s been sensible yet.  What makes you think
they?ll start now??
     Dillon said nothing.  Troy, on the other hand, watched as the bulbs
on either side of the shaft flashed by him.  He was starting to regain
his balance when the lift abruptly stopped and pitched him forward. 
Strong arms caught him before he could do much damage.
     ?Captain Troy,? said Toth, ?you must learn to be careful.  We aren?t
on a battlestar, and you can?t go charging about.?
     ?Oh, sorry.? Troy looked around with confusion.  He was no longer on
a moving turbolift, but he was surrounded by them.
     ?We have to branch off here,? explained Varton.  ?There?s a nice row
of middle-class apartments off that way, and a row of lower-class
apartments this way.  We?re going to the ghetto between them...the
no-man?s zone.?
     ?You and Toth go ahead,? said Troy.  ?I want to talk to Moc while we
wait for the lieutenant.?
     ?We?ll wait for you at the other end.?  Varton took Toth?s arm and
led her toward the middle passage.  ?Come, my dear.  Let me point out the
sights.?
     Kar scowled impatiently at the captain.  ?What do you want, Troy??
     ?I don?t know what you?re thinking inside that Nomen skull, but I
want you to keep your disguise on. I want you to let us do the talking. 
We?re going to tell them you?re alive?don?t worry about that?but we?re
going to tell them you never left the Galactica.  And we?re going to make
it very clear that their clan had better not come to the Galactica
looking for you.  You just keep a low profile, all right, Moc??
     ?Don?t tell me what to do,? said Kar.
     Troy got right in his face.  ?We?ve come this far for you, against
our better judgment if we ever had any.  So for once, you?re going to do
what I tell you to do!  Don?t test our friendship too much.?
     ?Friendship?? asked Kar with amazement.
     ?I couldn?t be this stupid out of a sense of duty,? muttered Troy. 
?It?s gotta be friendship.?
     Dillon stepped off the lift behind them.  ?Trouble?? he asked.
     ?Just a conversation,? answered Troy.  ?I was just telling Moc that
he should keep out of the way and remember who he is, and who he isn?t.?
     ?But I know the no-man?s zone so much better than you,? said Kar. 
?I?ve lived on the Borella for yahrens.?
     ?And you?ve made frequent excursions out here,? said Dillon.  ?I?ll
remember that, but you?re to remember who?s in charge of this party. 
Captain Troy.?
     The Nomen nodded somberly.  ?All right, I agree.  Out of friendship,
I will obey his orders.  Remember to take the middle passageway.? With
that, the Nomen plodded off into the prescribed corridor.
     Troy held his stomach and looked at Dillon.  ?I?m beginning to think
this is a big mistake.?
     ?Maybe it?s the pickled eggs,? he suggested.  ?Let?s deliver our
message and go home.?
     He strode into the passage ahead of him, and Troy followed him at a
distance.  There wasn?t anyone walking in the opposite direction, and he
guessed that people in the no-man?s zone didn?t had no duties aboard the
Borella.  The corridor was dreary, and every other lightbulb in the
ceiling was burned out. No one had tried to make this part of the ship
look respectable----just endless and depressing.
     Finally he spotted the others waiting for him in a tumble-down
alcove at the end of the passage.  He marveled at the pit in which they
found themselves.  There was some kind of booby-trapped stand, and the
stairway leading in was covered with dirt and garbage.  At the top of the
stairs was a hatch with a sign etched into the steel.  The sign read
?Vee-Tar? and Troy?s mind flashed back to the data crystal in which Mira
had recorded her famous Blood Hunt vows.  She had used that same
word?Vee-Ta?and Troy didn?t think it was a coincidence.  He knew without
told that this forlorn place was where she lived.  
     ?Welcome to the no-man?s zone,? said Varton.  
     ?How are we going to find the Rog family in there?? asked Dillon.
     ?We can ask around,? said Toth.  ?They must be known, even in this
place.?
     ?Did they really kill Kar?? asked Varton, sounding doubtful.  ?It
doesn?t seem as if they would have the wherewithal to kill someone on the
Galactica, living in this place.?
     Kar replied, ?Never underestimate the power of the Blood Hunt.?
     ?Come on,? said Dillon, leading the way up the hill of debris.
     The sight that greeted them when the hatch opened was even worse
than down in the pit.  It was truly a slum----a massive chamber housing a
dreary haphazard collection of makeshift dwellings that made even the
worst ship in the rag-tag fleet look pretty good.  
     Troy would have thought the place was deserted, but he heard the
shouts of a domestic quarrel and then a scream.  The warrior wanted to
take off toward the sound, but he told himself that he was on a mission,
and it didn?t include saving the no-man?s zone from filth and misery.  He
wished Kar hadn?t mentioned Down Below in the same breath as this foul
place, but he knew that every ship seemed to have a bin in which to put
its refuse.
     He tried to imagine what it would be like to go from Hecba Section
to this----permanently.  Even though the two places were on the same
ship, and a smaller ship than the Galactica at that, they were different
worlds that bred different creatures.  Was Mira more a product of this
place, or those snobbish java houses for the rich?  The answer might
determine how successful they would be in warning her off.
     Kar stood beside him.  He squinted his eyes, protecting his blue
contact lenses.  ?It isn?t a pretty place to sentence a family,
especially when they?ve done no wrong.?
     Dillon was scouting around the big cargo bay, his hand on his laser. 
Varton and Toth were busy trying to debate which way to go.  So Troy
lowered his voice to say to Kar, ?It?s about time you felt some guilt.?
     ?Oh, I feel guilt, Captain Troy, about many things.  I?m good at
feeling it.  I?m not so good at knowing what to do about it.?
     From the corner of his eye, Troy spotted movement.  It wasn?t
aggressive enough to cause him to reach for a solonite charge, but there
was very clearly a person dashing around the shacks, ducking behind
support struts, and drawing closer to them.  Dillon worked his way toward
Troy, and he nodded in the same direction he was looking.
     ?Somebody?s watching us.?
     ?I saw him,? said Troy.  ?It?s just one.?
     Suddenly, their pursuer came charging out into their line of sight,
whereupon he executed an exuberant flip and landed on bowed, scrawny
legs.  He bowed comically and folded that action into a somersault, once
again bounding to his feet.
     ?Does he live here?? Varton asked cheerfully.
     ?He could be useful,? said Toth.
     Troy motioned to the boy, whom he judged to be roughly equivalent to
a ten-yahren-old human, about the same age as Dr. Zee.  ?Come on over.
We?d like to talk to you.?
     The boy charged toward them, all bony elbows and knees, then did a
graceful cartwheel and landed beside Toth, gazing into her eyes.  ?Hello,
fair lady.  I am Paco, the greatest guide in all the no-man?s zone!  All
you have to do is tell me where you wish to go.?
     Toth cocked her head and smiled at the cheeky boy.  ?Do you know the
Rog family?  Het, Mira, and Kog.?
     ?Good friends of mine,? the boy claimed.  ?They used to be rich, you
know.  I think a very bad man stole their money.?
     Kar cut in.  ?Can you take us to them??
     ?Are you friendly?? Paco asked innocently.
     ?Yes,? said Toth.  ?We won?t do them any harm.?  She looked at Troy
as if trying to get some confirmation of that.
     ?And how much will you pay?? Paco smiled expectantly.
     ?I was expecting that,? said Kar.  ?Varton, do you have any of those
cubits left I gave you??
     ?Well,? muttered Varton, ?I suppose I do have one or two.?
     ?Give him two if you?ve got them.?
     Varton dug deep into his pockets to produce two cubits, which he
tossed into the air.  The boy snagged one in each hand and grinned. 
Paco?s scrawny neck and hairless head made him look anemic, thought Troy,
but he would give anything to have reflexes and coordination like his.
     Paco set off at a jaunty walk into the depths of the huge cargo bay,
making sure that Toth followed closely.  It was almost comical to watch
Paco and Varton vying for her attention.  Troy had never considered Toth
to be all that attractive, but he guessed he was missing something. 
Mira, on the other hand, he could see fighting over, but he?d be scared
to death to win.
     Kar walked respectfully behind Toth; although his head was bowed,
his eyes flashed back and forth, missing nothing.  Dillon walked a few
metrons to the left of Kar, and he watched him like he was a child about
to run off.  Troy did his best to keep watch on all of them, but the
deserted ?alley? and the heat of the ship?s daytime mode were beginning
to lull him into complacency.  He warned himself that this wasn?t the
eerie, empty metal cavern it seemed, and the heat would soon catch up
with them.  Then he caught some movement in a crudely-cut window of one
of the shanties as someone peered out at the passing parade.
     Troy did his best to remember their route as they cut between
shanties, up and down aisles, and behind support poles, but he doubted he
could find his way back to the lift without help.  That was a depressing
thought, and it made him feel for the solonite charges strapped to his
chest, just to make sure they were still there.
     ?Over there,? said Paco, pointing to the biggest shanty in the cargo
bay.  ?On the right.  One of the few shacks with a door.  Theirs has a
brown one.?
     ?You aren?t coming with us?? asked Toth with surprise.
     Paco waved his hand.  ?I see them often.  I will be watching for
you, fair lady.?  He kissed her hand, performed a cartwheel, landed at a
dead run, and kept running.  With a childish chuckle, he ducked out of
sight.
     ?The ingrate,? muttered Varton.  ?Not even a thank-you for the
cubits.   We?ll never see him again, I daresay.?
     ?Until we need to find our way back,? said Dillon.  He waved them
forward.  ?Let?s go.?
     ?Remember,? Troy told Kar, ?let us do the talking.?
     ?Very well,? grumbled the ambassador.  ?Tell them, if they
cooperate, there will be more money.?
     ?You really do want to make this right, don?t you?? asked Troy.
     The Nomen nodded.  ?Death is not the answer. I found that out. So we
must choose life.?
     Stepping over the broken candles on the floor, Dillon reached the
brown door first.  Troy came up behind her and gave her an encouraging
smile.  He glanced back to see that Toth, Varton, and Kar had remained in
the street, with Kar keeping a respectful distance and his head bowed. 
Dillon knocked softly on the rusted metal door.
     They heard a bolt behind pulled back, and both of them took a deep
breath.  The rude door opened, and Mira stood before them.  She was
dressed in what appeared to be purple gauze that flowed over her youthful
figure.  Did it matter that the material was threadbare at the sleeves
and hems?  Not to Troy it didn?t, as he forced his eyes upward to her
dazzling smile and sensuous eyes.  She looked radiant and very pleased to
see them.
     ?You make me look like a soothsayer,? said Mira with amusement.  ?I
told my family you would come today.  Enter, please.?
     ?There are others in our party,? said Dillon, glancing back at the
three in the street.
     ?They are welcome, too,? offered the young Nomen.
     Varton stepped forward importantly.  ?I?m Varton,? he proclaimed. 
?A visitor to your ship, but I once lived here.?
     ?A pleasure.?  Mira bowed politely.
     Toth entered the ramshackle hut after Varton, but Kar didn?t move. 
?My servant will wait outside,? she explained.
     ?As you wish,? said Mira through a clenched smile.  It was the first
sign to Troy that she was struggling a bit to be civil.  He resolved to
watch her during the conversation, an assignment he was happy to give
himself.
     They entered a simple sitting room, which was overcrowded with
massive furniture that looked as if it belonged in a palace.  Or a
museum, it was so tattered and chipped.  Perched on a couch like a queen
sitting on her throne was an older Nomen woman.  The matriarch was
working hard to appear regal, but Troy could tell she was rusty at it,
not like those Nomen in Hecba Section.  They probably snored regally. 
Pacing the back of the room was a young Nomen male who tried to look
nonplussed but only succeeded in looking nervous.
     ?My mother, Het,? said Mira smoothly, ?and my brother, Kog.?
     Dillon handled the introductions for their side?himself, Troy, Toth,
and Varton.  She didn?t bother to introduce the simple crewman who was
listening on the porch.  Despite the friendly behavior of the Rog family,
nobody offered them anything to eat or drink, or even a place to sit
down.
     ?We need to establish something  right away,? said Dillon.  ?Are all
of you on a Blood Hunt for Kar??
     ?I am,? declared Mira proudly.  ?That snake deserves it.?
     Troy caught the angry glare that passed between Toth and the younger
Nomen woman, and he hoped they would both be cool.
     Het laughed nervously.  ?It was a symbolic sort of gesture.  You
must understand that Kar completely destroyed this family.  When I tell
you what he did to us, your sympathy will be entirely on our side.?
     ?They know all about it,? said Mira with a sneer.  ?They still take
his side.?
     Dillon leaned forward.  ?Look at it from our point of view. The
Galactica and her warriors are in business to defend the people of the
fleet, to protect the Council of Twelve and the ambassadors representing
Nomen and other non-human minorities within the fleet.  Your Blood Hunt
may be acceptable to Nomen, but to us it?s a death threat against one of
our most important dignitaries.?
     ?What difference does it make?? asked Kog, striding into the center
of the conversation.  ?Kar is dead, and the fact is that we didn?t have
anything to do with it!  We weren?t anywhere near the Galactica when it
happened.?
     ?We know that,? answered Troy.  He looked pointedly at Dillon and
Toth, making sure they were all in agreement.  ?We?re warning you for the
future, because it turns out Kar isn?t really dead.?
     ?Ooooh!? shrieked Het, swooning.  Kog rushed to her aid, and Troy
whirled around to find Mira staring at him, judging his reaction instead
of the other way around.  She averted her eyes, but it was too late. 
Troy had the distinct impression that she knew Kar was still alive, and
that set off warning bells inside his skull.
     Kog fanned his mother and scowled angrily.  ?If this is some kind of
jest....?
     Troy found himself talking, trying to say anything that would do
some good.  ?It?s no jest. We don?t know all the details, but we think he
has been discovered in a rescue pod, still alive. At any rate, we know
you?ve gotten some money from his estate, and we know you?ll get more if
you just drop this Blood Hunt.?
     Mira laughed harshly and crossed in front of Troy, fixing him with
her eyes.  ?My mother and brother are foolish enough to think that money
means something.  But it doesn?t mean anything while my father?s
reputation is stained.  What can the Colonial Service do about that??
     ?Nothing,? admitted Troy, ?but I?ll tell you one thing the Colonial
Service can do.  If you show up on the Galactica, looking to kill one of
our ambassadors, we can slap you into irons, and we can shove you out an
airlock in your birthday suit.  Whatever the worst thing you can imagine
is, that?s what we?re going to do to you.  And I?m serious, lady.?
     Mira stopped in front of him and looked him up and down.  ?I believe
you are serious, Captain Troy.  You wold like to shove me somewhere in my
birthday suit.?
     ?Mira!? snapped her mother, making a remarkable recovery.  ?You stop
threatening them.  What they?ve brought us is disturbing news, but we
will have to make the best of it. Attache Toth, you are the ambassador?s
aide??
     ?I am,? answered the Nomen.
     ?The Galacticans said something  about more money.  If we were to
negotiate this amount with you, perhaps you could take the figures back
to your superior.?
     Toth sighed.  ?I could.  In return, we will want you to call of the
Blood Hunt.?
     Mira was silent, although her jaw worked tensely.
     ?We can talk about it,? her mother said pleasantly.  ?Everything is
open to negotiation.?
     During the ensuing conversation, Troy backed away from Mira and
opened up his collar.  The ship?s daytime was already starting to get
warm.  While the women negotiated, nobody was paying any attention to
Varton, so the trader gave Troy a jaunty wave and wandered out the door. 
Troy wished he could join him....a little fresh air sounded good about
now.  He tried not to look at Mira, because it amused her every time he
did.
     Sitting on the porch, Kar was startled by the door slamming shut and
Varton?s heavy footsteps.  Varton smiled at him and breathed a huge sigh
of relief.
     ?I can?t believe it,? whispered the human.  ?They actually told that
crazy family that Kar is still alive!  Can you imagine??
     ?But it seems to be working out all right, doesn?t it?? asked Kar
hopefully.  ?I?ve been listening, and it sounds as if they?ve agreed to
make peace.?
     Varton grinned. ?All except that luscious daughter of his.  She
wants dice made out of Kar?s vertebrae.  But it does sound promising,
which is fine with me.  I was afraid I would have to step in.?
     Kar laughed derisively.  ?You could end a Blood Hunt??
     ?You never know how a Blood Hunt will end,? observed Varton.  He
patted his ample stomach.  ?My work is done here....maybe I should go
back to Hecba Section.?
     ?Come back with us,? insisted Kar.  ?I?m feeling in a very
magnanimous mood, and we owe you something for everything you?ve done. 
Remain with us....I think we can prevail upon Kar?s wife to give you
something extra for your trouble.?
     Varton tugged at his sport coat, as if that were his intention all
along.  ?Of course, I wasn?t planning to leave just yet.?  He gazed
around. ?This place is awfully deserted, isn?t it?  I mean, people do
live here. Have you seen anything suspicious??
     ?I haven?t seen anything at all,? grumbled Kar.  ?But I haven?t been
looking around.  I suppose I should.?
     ?Let?s not make a big deal of it,? said Varton. ?I?ll just take a
look off to the right here, and you take the left.  Like we?re hiding our
time.?
     Kar whispered. ?Do you think this could be some kind of trap??
     ?I?ve been in here before during the daytime mode, and I never
remember it being this quiet.  Where are the people??
     ?There?s one of them,? said Kar with his sharp vision.  But he
didn?t point; he turned and smiled at the stocky human.  ?He just ducked
down behind a tylium barrel.  That?s rather suspicious behavior, isn?t
it??
     ?Indeed it is,? agreed Varton, sneaking a look in that direction.
?That?s the way we would go back to reach the entrance hatch.  You?re
sure about what you saw??
     ?Yes, I am.  Of course, it may have been that confounded boy.?
     ?No.? Varton pointed out.  ?He wasn?t foolish enough to come this
way, remember??
     Their troubling conversation was interrupted by the door squeaking
open and the exit of their bedraggled party from the Rog shanty.  Troy
charged out, gasping for air as if the atmosphere inside the house had
been stifling.  He was followed by Dillon and Toth, neither of whom
looked overjoyed at what had transpired.  Weariness and relief showed in
their faces in equal measure.  The mission was over, thought Kar, and it
was a success.  The dreaded Rog family had been cornered in their lair,
told the truth, and settled with.   They should all be overjoyed that it
was over. But was it over?
     Mira stepped out on the porch after them, and she did look quite
fetching in her filmy gown.  She pointed into the air.  ?If you want to
get back to Hecba Section, the way to the lift is out that hatch and
through the corridor.?
     ?Yeah,? said Troy, ?we should get going. I hope you won?t be
offended if I say I never want to see you again.?
     ?Too bad,? said Mira playfully.  ?I think we could have been
friends.?
     ?Okay, let?s get going,? said Dillon, making it an order.
     ?No!? Kar blurted out.  Then he remembered to bow his head and act
obsequious.  ?Varton and I have been talking, and we feel another route
is better.?
     ?Yeah,?said Varton, wiping the sweat off his brow.  ?There?s
something  we want to see on the other side of this cargo bay.?
     Troy got the message. ?I?ll go wherever you want.  It?s your
territory.?
     Mira got angry.  ?That?s absurd.  The quickest way is to the
southern corner.?  She stepped out of the shanty and stared in that
direction.
     Kar strode off determinedly in the northern direction, hoping the
others would get the idea, and Varton was not far behind him.  Kar had
always found that humans had fairly good senses of danger?it was the
reptile in their brains----and he hoped it would kick in soon.
     A clay pot crashed somewhere, and Dillon whirled around, which
spooked an assailant hiding under a mound of litter.  He leapt to his
feet and cut loose with laser fire that streaked over Dillon?s head and
raked a shanty across from where the group stood.  Dillon dropped to one
knee, rested his elbow, and took aim; he cooked the gunman with a short
burst of his laser. Everyone else fled, including Mira, who vanished into
her shanty.
     Kar drew his own weapon and hoped that would be the end of it, but
Mira burst from the shack toting a laser bazooka.  ?Kill them!? she
shrieked.  Her voice was drowned out by the roar of her own weapon.
     Behind Kar, an entire shanty blew into flaming cinders.  When he
tore his eyes away from that horrible sight, he saw an army of thugs
pouring out from the shanties everywhere in the cargo bay.  They came
charging at Kar and his little band, howling like drunken, bloodthirsty
lunatics.
     ?Retreat!? screamed Kar.

*****************************

CHAPTER 15
WAR!


     Dillon ignored the wild laserblasts that pulsed over his head.  He
guessed he had one more shot before the army of thugs figured out they
had to stand still to shoot well, so he took careful aim at the figure in
the purple dress.
     ?Don?t kill her!? shouted Troy far behind him.  But he ignored him,
too, and squeezed off a burst.
     The bazooka in Mira?s arms lit up like a toy light saber, and she
shrieked as she flung it to the ground.  She was burned and her dress was
singed, but the bazooka was no more.  Dillon leaped to a crouch and ran
northward, with the raging mob in close pursuit.   His small band was
strung out ahead of him, fleeing for their lives.
     ?Artillery!? Kar yelled over the din.
     Troy got the message and he stopped in his tracks and whirled
around.  Dillon pssed him as he pulled the first solonite charge off his
belt.  ?Nice shooting!? he called.
     ?She?s next,? warned the lieutenant.
     But he didn?t think Troy heard him, as the captain was concentrating
on arming the charge.  With great accuracy, Troy lobbed it underhanded
into the mob, and the blast was ferocious, engulfing a dozen of the
ragtag army in a scorching fireball.  Their screams were chilling as the
dying Nomen crumpled to the floor or staggered away like torches with
legs.  The charge had the desired effect of slowing up the mob and
forcing most of them into cover, but it enraged some of them, who cut
loose with laser fire that blew away clay pots and chunks of the
haphazard shanties.  It was war now.
     ?Fall back,? shouted Dillon.
     He ran for his life along with the others, and he found Kar
organizing their forces at the end of the ?alley.?  They were being fired
at but not chased, and Dilon crouched on the floor behind a stack of worn
out mattresses.  
     He stared at Kar. ?How do we get out of here??
     ?First of all,? he answered, ?you put me in charge.  We need to move
like a squad, and I know how to command a squad.  By the way, that was
good shooting back there.?
     Dillon shook his head in exasperation.  ?Okay, you?re in charge. 
Now get us out of here!?
     Kar motioned to Toth.  ?You and Varton on the left side of the
opening.  Dillon and Troy on the right side.  We?ve got to make it look
like we?ll make a stand.?
     Their assailants were also regrouping, although a few kept up their
indiscriminate firing.  Toth shot back at them.
     ?Don?t fire unless they?re in range,? ordered Kar.  ?We have to
conserve those lasers; they won?t last forever.?
     ?We need a plan,? said Dillon.  ?Is there any way to get back to the
hatch??
     ?No,? answered Kar, ?they?re between us and the only exit we have to
get out of the no-man?s zone.  Here are our options: We could run east or
west, but that would leave us open to their ammunition.  We could make a
stand, but they would eventually overrun us, coming at us from all sides. 
We could fight our way through them, but I think we would suffer heavy
casualties if we did that.?
     ?Let?s not do that,? suggested Varton with a gulp.  ?What about
hiding??
     ?Perhaps Toth and I could blend in,? said Kar, ?but I don?t think
the three of you would.  The safest course would be to outflank them, and
we might be able to do that when the Borella goes into nighttime mode. 
If we could find a place to hide until they lower the lights, I would be
in favor of that.?
     ?Man, you act just like a Colonial warrior!? said Varton in
admiration.  ?I?m going wherever     Moc is going.?
     Kar smiled.  ?This is much like old times in the desert.  This
entire trip has been nostalgic for me.?
     A glass bottle landed near them, and Dillon jumped along with
everyone else.  He whirled around, wondering where it had come from, and
saw little Paco frolicking in the litter, turning cartwheels and
somersaults.  He windmilled his arms and ran off toward a raised hatch
located in the forlorn floor.  If it hadn?t been for the rusty  handwheel
for opening the hatch from one or both sides,  Dillon would not have
recognized the raised panel above the floor as a hatch.  Paco waved at
them for a moment, then he undogged the hatch and dove down it like
greased lightning.  Given the surreal events of the last few
mili-centons, this seemed a fitting conclusion.
     ?Did anybody else see that?? gasped Varton.  ?That little bugger
just dove down that hatch!?
     ?Do you suppose he wants us to follow him?? asked Toth.
     ?We?d be sitting ducks if we stayed in this cargo bay,? growled
Troy.
     ?He had to go somewhere,? said Kar.  ?Dillon and Toth, go check it
out.  Toth, give your laser to Troy.  We?ll cover you.?
     Everyone obeyed Kar without a moment?s hesitation.  Technically,
Troy was in charge, but they needed a squadron leader.  Kar had the
instincts and experience, and he knew the ship.
     Dillon and Toth got into a crouch and ran across the floor.  From
somewhere in the maze of ceiling pipes, a sniper opened fire, sending a
blue beam arcing across their heads.  Troy answered with a pinpoint blast
into the pipes that rearranged the sniper?s head, and he dripped like a
pile of trash to the filthy floor.  Dillon hated that they had to shoot
to kill, but fear was the only thing that would keep this pack at bay,
and he had serious doubts whether fear would do it for Mira and some of
them.
     Toth reached the rusty hatch first, and she worked her way around to
the side, away from the snipers.  Dillon followed, keeping an eye open
for more shooters, but Troy?s quick response had discouraged them for the
moment.  Toth punched the crumbling metal and plastic  that formed the
rim of the hatch, testing its strength.
     ?We can?t sit on the edge of this thing and take a leisurely look
inside,? she reported.  ?I?m going inside.  If our friend went down
there, I think I can make it.?
     ?You won?t be armed,? said Dillon.
     ?I think he?s trying to help us,? the Nomen insisted. ?I?ll yell for
you when I get to safe footing. If you don?t hear me yell, don?t come
down.?
     Dillon nodded, then waited until Toth nodded back.  They both leaped
to their feet.  Dillon raked the mess of ceiling pipes where the last
sniper had hidden, while Toth vaulted over the hatch cover and
disappeared feet-first down the hole.  Even from several metrons above,
Dillon could hear a thud and groan as the big Nomen landed.  He held his
breath, waiting to hear Toth?s voice.
     ?It?s okay!? she bellowed. ?Come down!?
     Knowing he would have no one to cover her, Dillon slithered up and
over the rotten rim of the hatch.  He succeeded in keeping a low profile,
and he was already dropping into the darkness when a laserblast bit off a
chunk of the hatch cover and showered him with fragments.
     Dillon screamed in spite of himself as he slid through the darkness,
bumping over broken wires and wet grime.  He was prepared to hit the deck
hard, and his strong legs absorbed most of the impact. Toth caught him
before he toppled over, then pulled him away as pieces of metal, plastic
and glass tumbled down after him.
     When the bombardment ended, Dillon looked around the narrow shaft
and could see almost nothing except for the small pool of light from
above, which had to struggle through ten meters of refuse.  Behind Toth,
he could make out the vague shape of a narrow passage that stretched into
utter and foreboding darkness.  There were strange smells coming from the
passage, too, smells that were musty and rotten.
     ?I can?t see much,? said Dillon. ?What is this place?  A maintenance
tunnel??
     Toth laughed without humor.  ?At one time, it probably was, but no
technician would risk his life coming into a maintenance tunnel under a
no-man?s zone.  No, Dillon.  I think we?re in the ship?s catacombs.?
     ?Catacombs?? asked Dillon, not liking the sound of that word.
     Before Toth could explain, they heard a shout from overhead, and a
laserblast sheared off more of the cover of the hatch.  There were
bloodcurdling screams that reverberated right through the steel walls,
and a large figure darkened the hole, cutting off all the light.
     ?I?m coming!? groaned a horrified voice.
     Dillon barely had time to stumble into the adjoining passage before
a massive object plummeted down the shaft, crashing to the bottom.  The
light returned long enough to show Varton, sitting like a crumpled Sagan
among the clods of dirt.
     There were more shouts overhead, and they quickly dragged Varton
into the passage and left him there.  They returned to the shaft long
enough to see another body tumble down, followed in short order by
another.  Kar and Troy rolled into a big pile of arms and legs, and Toth
and Dillon struggled to separate them.  The fun was short lived as angry
shouts and demented laughter sounded at the top of the hatch; somebody
dangled a laser gun over the rim and fired without aiming.  More debris
thundered down, and Dillon and Toth pulled their friends out of the shaft
and dragged them into the catacombs.
     They scrambled deeper into the tunnel only to find Varton standing
there, holding a candle embedded in an upside-down Nomen skull.
     Dillon pointed to the macabre curio.  ?Where did you get that??
     ?Paco ran up and gave it to me,? answered Varton with amazement. 
?Then he ran off.?
     ?I don?t blame him,? muttered Troy.  He looked around the gloomy
passage and wrinkled his nose at the dank smells.  ?Where in hades are
we?  The bio-sanitation module??
     ?The ship?s catacombs,? said Kar.  ?After Borella fell to the Cylons
and we escaped in this craft, we put our dead in these rambling makeshift
burial chambers.   On the captain?s orders, these passageways were kept
cool, and the humidity low, to keep the corpses in good condition.  This
was so we could come down and visit our relatives.  They were also
expected to serve as escape routes to the lifeboats if any Cylon bombs
ever breached our hull.  Nobody has ever bothered to make a map of the
entire catacomb system----we?ve been too busy fighting for our survival
along with you Colonists to concentrate on such a mundane task.  At least
they can?t come at us from all sides down here.?
     ?What happened in the cargo hold?? asked Toth.
     Troy answered, ?I think Mira realized that the two of you had found
a way out, so she led an all-out attack.  We had nowhere else to go.?
     ?Shhh!? cautioned Toth.  ?Listen!?
     From the top of the hatch, a soft voice was calling.  ?Troy!  Troy!?
     ?Don?t answer her,? said Dillon.
     ?Troy, let?s make a deal!? came Mira?s voice, sounding quite
reasonable.  ?We don?t want to harm you.....we just want Kar.  Give us
Kar and we?ll let the rest of you go!?
     Varton chuckled.  ?Kar?  Have they been sniffing plant vapors?   We
don?t have Kar.?
     Everyone gazed at the chubby human to the muscular Nomen, and
Varton?s eyes widened with horror.  Trembling, he lifted the skull candle
closer to Kar?s face. ?Don?t tell me, you?re....?
     ?I warned you not to come,? said Kar.  He ripped off his disguise
and threw it to the floor, then he popped out the contact lenses and
ground them under his heel.
     ?Lord help us!? moaned Varton, and he took off at a terrified run
down the narrow tunnel.  Within seconds, there came a scream, the sound
of a crash, and total blackness as the candle went out.
     Dillon sunk against the wall and let the Nomen investigate in the
darkness while he kept an eye on the pool of light coming down the chute. 
Whenever shadows moved across the light, he tensed, expecting an attack. 
He turned to see Kar ignite the skull candle with a low-level burst from
his laser pistol.  There were gasps as the party spotted Varton sprawled
on the deck, wrapped in the embrace of a desiccated Nomen corpse.
     ?Aaaaahhgh!? he screamed, pushing the crumbling cadaver away. 
Dillon gazed around and saw there were mummified bodies everywhere,
hanging from the walls, lying on the shelves, sitting on benches, and
piled like cordwood against the wall.  A few skulls were rolling about
loose.
     Toth helped Varton to his feet.  ?Varton, get control of yourself. 
And watch your step.  You don?t want to desecrate the dead, do you??
     ?I don?t want to be the dead!?
     Another sound startled Dillon, and he whirled around to see a large
figure drop down the wall beside her.  He shot into the darkness and
heard a groan, but he didn?t know if he had hit him.
     ?Let?s move it!? barked Troy.
     With Kar holding the candle and leading the way, they moved single
file through the catacombs, trying not to jostle the remains that rested
in profusion all around them.  Dillon found himself breathing through his
mouth, both to get more air and to keep the clammy smells at bay.  He
shouldered his way through the others to catch up with Kar and his
wavering candle.
     ?Kar, is there any way we can get back to Hecba Section through
these catacombs??
     ?I don?t think so,? answered the Nomen.  ?But I?m not an expert on
them.  If that boy will stand still long enough for us to talk to him,
maybe he can tell us.?
     After several moments, it became apparent that they were walking
toward a flickering light at the end of the passageway. They slowed their
pace to listen, and Dillon heard shuffling sounds as they approached the
chamber.  He leveled his laser and followed Kar as he crept into what had
to be a tomb; it was crowded with mummified remains and illuminated by
three lumpy candles.  Furtive figures darted away, hiding under coffins
and benches, and Dillon nearly shot at them until he realized they were
Nomen children.  Huddled in the corner, inspecting something green and
moldy, sat little Paco.
     ?You made it!? he said with a grin.  ?Welcome to our little piece of
the ship!  We have to share it with dead people, but they?re quiet.?
     Slowly, his tiny friends poked their heads out of their dusty hiding
places, and Dillon was shocked to see that some looked as young as a
four- or five-yahren-old human.  Varton, Toth and Troy filed into the
tomb, and they gaped at the unexpected enclave of children.
     ?You can?t stay here,? Dillon warned them.  ?There are bad people
chasing us.  If they knew you helped us, they would be angry.?
     Paco bounded to his feet and frowned like a serious adult.  ?Too
many bad people live on this ship.  Maybe you could take us to your
ship!?
     The children nodded in agreement, as if it couldn?t be much worse
than this.  Dillon took a deep breath, feeling both his charitable and
fatherly tendencies starting to rise up.  He would love to help these
children, but right now there was a good chance that none of them would
get back to the Galactica alive.
     ?Don?t you have parents?? he asked, knowing he probably didn?t want
to hear the answer.
     Paco shrugged.  ?They kept beating me, so I ran away.  Since then, I
heard they?re dead.?
     Dillon looked around the musty chamber.  Counting the entrance they
had used, there were three passageways leading out of the tomb, and Kar
looked in each of them, prodding the darkness with his candle.
     ?This might be a good place to lose our pursuers,? he said. ?They
can guess, but they won?t know for sure which way we?ve gone.  We can?t
go back the way we came, so we?ll take one of these passageways, and the
children can take the other one.?
     ?Do any of these tunnels lead to Hecba Section?? Dillon asked the
children. ?Or to a turbolift??
     Before they could answer, there was a crashing sound from the
passageway behind them, and everyone in the room dropped into a wary
crouch.
     ?There?s no more time for chitchat,? whispered Troy. ?Which way??
     Like a little general mustering his troops, Paco dragged the
children out of their hiding places and motioned toward the right-hand
passageway.  He handed the first one a candle and snapped his fingers,
and the tykes padded into the darkness of the catacombs.  It wrenched
Dillon?s heart to see them run off so alone and unprotected.  But they
had survived this long, he reasoned, and they would probably survive
having a Blood Hunt played out on their doorstep.
     When the last child was dispatched, Paco motioned the adults down
the left-hand tunnel, and he led the way, with Kar, Toth, and Varton
right behind him.  Troy and Dillon went to grab the remaining two
candles, which not only gave them light but left the tomb in utter
darkness.  As they jogged into the passageway in pursuit of their
comrades, Dillon could swear she heard voices directly behind them.  Or
maybe it was the dead laughing at them.
     He was so intent upon putting distance between her band and their
dogged pursuers that he could barely breathe.  After a while, he realized
there was no sound in the catacombs except for their footsteps pounding
through the dust and he paused to take stock. All around her in this
flying necropolis, there was a sense of agelessness, of time standing
still.  Even the children hadn?t seemed real, just small Nomen who hadn?t
learned to stand still, like their elders hanging on the wall.
     He turned and confronted a line of corpses who stared at him with
empty eye sockets; their drawn sardonic faces seemed to laugh at the
futility of it all.  Sooner or later, he would join them, they assured
him.
     Dillon had a very troubling thought.  They had put their lives in
the hands of a bilge rat?what if they couldn?t trust him?  What did they
know about Paco?  Nothing, came the disconcerting reply.  But they knew
perfectly well what Mira represented----she was the Anubis in this city
of the dead.
     The lieutenant brushed up against Troy and protected the candle in
his grasp.  He realized that the group had stopped ahead of him, and he
squeezed between Troy and pyramid of heavy-foreheaded Nomen skulls to see
what was happening.  There was a fork in the catacombs, and Paco pointed
down the left-hand passage. ? There is a shrine halfway down, and if you
look up, you will see a ladder to an upper level.  You?ll come out at a
bigger shrine in Jagson Section.  If you want to return to the upper
decks, you can climb out there.?
     Varton snapped his fingers.  ?Jagson is the name of this deck, isn?t
it??
     ?Yes,? answered Paco.  ?Travel south in the corridor and you will
reach the lift.?
     Kar shook his head.  ?That entrance is too well known.  They might
be waiting there.?
     ?Listen,? said the boy. ?If you have to come back into the
catacombs, you can look for me in the tomb where you found me.  I have a
hiding place there.?
     For some reason, that honest answer relieved Dillon?s fears about
Paco.  The boy was just trying to help them, but his expectations of
doing so were not all that great.  That seemed to be implicit in the way
he was always trying to ditch them.  He knew they were probably as dead
as the denizens of these ducts, and he didn?t want to be around when it
happened.
     ?Thank you,? said Kar with a nod to the boy.  ?A proper reward will
come later.?
     ?Critical!? said the boy brightly.  He pointed to the unusual candle
holder.  ?May I take the skull?  It?s one of my uncles, I think.?
     ?Yes,? said Kar with a smile, handing the grimy skull to the boy. 
Paco promptly whirled around and made a sharp turn to the right,
disappearing down the other fork.
     In the still of the catacombs, they all paused to listen, and they
heard voices.  They were faint and ghostly as they reverberated through
the narrow tunnels, but nobody thought they were ghosts.  The group
headed down the left-handed fork without further discussion.  Dillon
scanned one wall with his candle while Troy scanned the other wall with
his wavering light.  Kar and Toth guarded their rear, while Varton ran
nervously ahead of them.
     It was Varton who spotted the shrine first.  ?Over here!? he called.
     Dillon reached Varton?s location first, and he shined his flickering
light on the simple altar.  It consisted of a crumbling pedestal only a
few centimeters high, upon which sat a highly stylized female form
fashioned from what looked like terra-cotta.  The statuette had been
carelessly trodden upon, and her arms and most of her legs were broken
off----but she still had a regal appearance.  Her forehead identified her
as Nomen, but she had an unearthly expression and was fleshier than most
Nomen.
     ?Bock, our harvest goddess,? said Kar, stepping up behind him. ?It?s
an old-fashioned belief, as the Martyrs have supplanted the old gods in
importance.?
     Kar peered upward a meter to the left, and Dillon followed his gaze
with the candle. Sure enough there was a shaft, spacious compared to the
one inside the old hatch, and a god rope ladder hung down the middle of
it.  There was also light at the top, blessed light.  Assassins or no
assassins, Dillon was really glad to be getting out of the catacombs,
with their musty smells, terrifying darkness, and oppressive corpses.  If
he had to die, he would rather have blinding daylight in his eyes and
fresh air in his lungs.  To die down here among yahrens of Nomen
dead----it made death seem commonplace, inevitable.
     He shook off those unpleasant thoughts and looked at Kar.  ?Are we
going up??
     ?You don?t want to die down here, do you??
     ?No.?
     Kar pulled out his laser gun and insisted, ?Let me go first.  If
they get me, maybe they?ll leave the rest of you alone, although I doubt
it.  I?m very sorry to have gotten you into this unfortunate mess.?
     ?Then get us out of it,? said Dillon, tempering his order with a
pained smile.
     Kar nodded somberly.  ?That is my first order of business.  Then
I?ll deal with Mira.?  He lifted his boot onto the first run and hauled
himself out of the darkness.

****************************

CHAPTER 16
POISON !

     In the catacombs deep in the heart of the freighter Borella, three
Colonists and a Nomen attache watched tensely as a dead ambassador
climbed up a hole.  They kept glancing over their shoulders, expecting an
army of lunatics to charge down a passageway clogged with rotting bodies. 
Dillon peered nervously up the shaft and couldn?t see or hear Kar
anymore, so he decided it was time to send someone else.  He wanted to go
next, just to get out of this hellhole, but he thought it would be better
to send Troy.
      ?You go,? he told him.
      ?Right,? replied Troy.  I?ll keep that solonite charge handy.  If
you don?t hear anything from me in sixty-microns, send Toth and Varton. 
You go last in case they catch up with us from this direction.?
     Dillon nodded, knowing there wasn?t any point in being sentimental. 
Like Starbuck and Apollo before them, Dillon and Troy relied on each
other, suffering through countless crises and a traumatic discovery of
Earth.  Nothing needed to be said.
     Troy pulled the charge off the belt and gripped it in his teeth as
he climbed quickly up the rope ladder.
     Dillon counted roughly to sixty as he positioned Varton to go next. 
?It sounds peaceful up there,? he said encouragingly.  ?Climb as fast as
you can and don?t look back.  Just do what Troy and Kar tell you. 
They?ve been through tough scrapes before.?
     Varton nodded with a nervous gulp, reached for the ladder, and
watched expectantly as Dillon finished his counting down.  When he hit
the end of his inaccurate mili-centon, he shoved Varton in the back. To
his credit, he climbed as if Nomen maniacs were chasing him, and he went
over the top in about the same time it had taken Troy.  Dillon listened
carefully, but he didn?t hear any screams or shouts; so he motioned Toth
up the rope ladder.  That allowed him to turn his full attention to the
dark passageway behind him.
     Dillon could still hear the voices reverberating in the rambling
catacombs.  He had no idea if they were ten metrons or a hundred metrons
away, but he knew he had to get out of there.  As soon as Toth was clear,
he blew out his candle and stuck it and the laser gun in his coat pocket. 
Then he grabbed the rope ladder and scampered toward daylight.
     As Paco had promised, he emerged in the center of a small chapel. 
In an alcove sat a large statue of the harvest goddes, Bock, with several
rows of filthy metal benches facing her.  A Nomen dressed in rags was
asleep on one of the benches, and Dillon waited in a crouch until he saw
Troy lean around the corner of the doorway and motion to him.
     Dillon drew his laser pistol and jogged into the brightly-lit
corridor, where he found his companions huddled behind a dead-and-gone
computer mainframe, awaiting her.  The warmth of the air struck him
full-force and nearly made him shout with happiness.  The sweat glands
along his back tingled, ready to do their job, and he felt alive, as if
escape was possible.
     Jagson Section, however, looked dead.  He could tell that most of
the corridor was better kept than in Vee-Tar, but the Borella was in the
middle of its daytime-mode and Jagson Section was completely deserted. 
That was a bit disconcerting.  People who managed to live in this part of
the ship had to have a highly-evolved sense of self-preservation, he told
himself.  Besides, anyone in his right mind would stay well hidden until
the Blood Hunt had played itself out, one way or another.
     He crouched down with his fellows behind the dead-and-gone computer
and awaited Kar?s instructions.  The Nomen was on his hands and knees,
peering around the corner of the computer, apparently looking for signs
of an ambush.  Dillon looked behind him and saw an unusual sign etched
into one of the hatches.  It was a symbol of a circle with a dash through
it, looking something like a stylized capital ?Q.?
     He tapped Toth on the shoulder and pointed to the sign.  ?What does
that mean??
      ?It?s a life station.?
      ?A life station? On this deck?? asked Dillon with surprise.
      ?Doesn?t Dr. Franklin spend several mornings a week in Down Below??
asked the Nomen. ?We have altruistic doctors, too.?
     They heard shuffling behind them, and Dillon whirled around to see
the derelict scurry away from the benches. He left a few pieces of ragged
clothing, and Kar got into a crouch and ran over to fetch the rags.
      ?What are you doing?? asked Dillon.
     The Nomen smiled and threw the rags over his shoulders. ?I don?t see
anybody out there, but that doesn?t mean they?re not there.  In fact, it
probably means something that nobody?s down here.?
     He continued. ?Plan A is to go straight south to the lift, although
they could be waiting for us there.  Plan B is to fall back to the shrine
and descend into the catacombs again.?
     Kar saw the humans? downcast expressions and pursed his lips.  ?You
don?t want to go back there. Neither do I.  But we don?t stand a chance
of holding off a larger force out here in the open, while the Borella is
in daytime mode.  Down there, we do. Then we can wait them out until the
Borella returns to nighttime mode, when we should be able to move about
with more safety.?
      ?Is there a plan C?? asked Varton, who was shaking despite the
heat.
      ?Plan C is that I give myself up to them,? said Kar, ?although I
really don?t think that will save your lives.  But in the spirit of
self-sacrifice, I?m going to walk out there now and draw their fire.  We
have to know if they?re waiting in ambush.?
      ?Kar, think about that for a second,? insisted Dillon.  ?When you
were trying to escape from the Cylons, what would you have done??
      ?Same thing.? He smiled. ?Of course, I would have sent one of you.?
      ?Let me go,? offered Toth.
     He handed her his laser.  ?No, all of you must cover me.  My life
depends upon your marksmanship.  I?m going to try to look like a
drugged-out derelict, so maybe they?ll just warn me away. One way or
another, we?ve got to see who?s out there.?
     Without further discussion, Kar staggered to his feet and began to
wander, singing, into the middle of the corridor.  Toth chuckled for a
moment, then grew somber again.
      ?What?? asked Dillon.
      ?Oh, it?s a very bawdy song,? she answered.
     The lanky Nomen moved around the edge of the dead-and-gone computer
and dropped to her stomach, using her elbows to steady her weapon. 
Dillon sighed and took up a similar position on the other corner, and
Troy waited, working the muscles in his jaw.  He lifted the grenade and
brushed some sand off it.  Dillon doubted whether anybody was looking at
them with a demented Nomen staggering down the corridor, bellowing a
bawdy song.

******************************

     Well, thought Kar fatalistically, he had set out to save his life
and he ended up casting it away.  This was near suicide, and he knew it. 
This lot would kill a transient as surely as they would kill an
ambassador.  He just hoped his friends and colleagues made it out alive.
     He crooned another verse of the off-color ballad and stopped in the
corridor to sway uneasily, and reflect.  His only true regret in this
entire business was that he had neglected Rog?s family, making them
suffer worse than Rog had. He could have made amends years ago, when
instead he sewed the seeds of his own demise.  He could have spared
innocent people a bellyful of anguish, hatred, and bitterness.  Thanks to
him, their minds and souls were out of balance, as an Aquarian might say. 
His soul felt that way too, which is why he understood.
     Mira should have been in the Illuminated Path, warding off visitors,
instead of casting her young life away for a ridiculous Blood Hunt.  It
was a Blood Hunt that he could have averted.  He remembered a Caprican
proverb that was appropriate: In the end, it?s not the things we do that
we regret, it?s the things we don?t do.
      ?Get out of there!? commanded a voice.  Kar cocked his head, as if
he were hearing things, and he tried to find the direction of the voice. 
He saw the sniper crouching between two piles of junk, waving him away. 
Well, thought Kar, maybe he would oblige.
     He couldn?t move too quickly, as he had to stick with his lunatic
gate, but he did stagger in the general direction of his comrades, hoping
they would realize what this meant.  He started bellowing another song, a
little love ditty he often sang on the Galactica.  For several moments,
Kar thought he was going to make it back to the carcass of the
dead-and-gone computer before somebody figured it out, then he heard a
voice that ruptured the unnatural silence.
      ?That?s him!?screamed Mira. ?Fire!?
     Thanks to her warning, he had a chance to hit the ground as pulses
of plasma streaked over his head, blowing up big chunks of the
deckplates.  He slithered on his belly as fast as he could while his
comrades answered fire, pumping their lasers down the length of Jasgon
Section.  Screams echoed behind him, testifying to their accuracy, and
Kar stole a glance over his shoulder.  He wished he hadn?t, because he
could see Mira and twenty more bolting from their hiding places.  They
all yelled like lunatics, and Kar scrambled to his feet and ran at full
speed.  He thudded hard against a tall plant vase, as a shot followed him
over and obliterated the vase, showering him with chunks of clay.
      ?Varton!? yelled Dilloon, ?hit the ladder!? The chubby human didn?t
need any more encouragement to run for safety.
     Toth and Dillon continued to shoot at the advancing mob with deadly
accuracy, but Mira and several others kept coming.  Worse, the enemy?s
firepower was starting to reduce the computer mainframe to scrap metal;
in a few more microns, their cover would be gone.
      ?Toth and Kar,? ordered Dillon, ?hit the ladder!? he glanced at
Troy, and he held up the solium charge.  He nodded.
     They ran for the shrine, but Kar hung back for a split second.  He
wanted to see whether Troy would try to kill Mira.  That was probably
their only chance of escaping death.  The security chief hurled the
charge, and their eyes followed the missile?s arc.  Mir had the presence
of mind to hurl herself into the littered floor as the charge sailed past
her and landed among the terrified pack.  They screamed even before the
fireball engulfed them.
     A laserblast shattered what was left of the computer mainframe, and
Troy and Kar ran for it.  They dashed into the shrine and weaved their
way between the benches, but Kar slowed up to let the human reach the
ladder first.  His close encounter with death a moment ago had steeled
him.  If Death wanted him so badly, let it take him!   From now on, he
would risk his own life first and foremost, while he protected his
friends? lives as much as he could.  Maybe this was what the fates
demanded from him for atonement....total selflessness.  If so, he was
happy to oblige.
     He looked up at the statue of Bock, the harvest goddess.  A laser
beam blasted a chunk of the alcove away, but Kar took a moment to bow his
head to the venerated goddess.  ?Bock, Mistress of the Fields, I place my
life in your hands.  Help me to be brave and do what is honorable.?
     Another shot sang over his head, and Kar stepped into the open hole
in the floor of the shrine, deftly catching the top run.  He stopped
halfway down and pulled a knife out of his boot, then he reached up and
began sawing away at the ropes.  Enraged shouts and pounding footsteps
made him grit his teeth and saw all the harder.  The first rope snapped,
and he dropped and crashed into the shaft wall.  Kar groaned and reached
up to saw on the other rope, but the voices were alarmingly near.  He
considered jumping off, but he didn?t want to leve them any easy way
down.
     Kar sawed widly with his blade as the loudest footsteps came to a
stop.  A hand holding a laser gun reached over the edge, and Kar
remembered that tactic.  He jabbed upward with his knife and caught the
Nomen in the forearm, spearing it like a fat fish.  Blood spurted, the
laser clattered to the bottom of the shaft, and the wounded men screamed
and struggled.  When more thugs crowded around the hole, Kar let go of
both the knife and the ladder. His legs crumpled under him as he landed,
and he bumped his shoulder hard against the shaft.  He shook his head,
trying to clear his senses, and he felt something poking him in the rear. 
He reached down to find the laser gun.
     Not a bad trade, he thought.  A knife for a laser pistol.  He aimed
the weapon to finish the job on the ladder, but two arms pointed into the
hole with lasers.  They blew out chunks of the shaft, and Kar scurried
away as the debris rained down.
     He saw Dillon just ahead of him, motioning with a candle.  ?Come
on!? he urged him.  ?The others went down to the tomb already!?
     As he ran toward him, Kar waved his new laser gun.  ?Look what I
found.  You join the others. I cut half the ladder, but I want to further
discourage them from coming down after us.?
     Dillon shook her head. ?Just remember, you?re not Superman.?
      ?Who??
      ?Look out!? shouted Dillon.
     He shoved Kar out of the way and drilled a thug just as he was
emerging from the shaft.  He slumped against a long row of bodies,
looking like the youngest in a family portrait.
      ?Coth!? called a voice from above. ?Coth!?
     Kar put his fingers to his lips, telling him not to say anything. 
Silence was the only answer they wanted to give.  Let them realize that
whoever used the shrine to enter the catacombs was going to die.
      ?These aren?t true Warriors of the Code,? whispered Kar.  ?These
are cowardly cutthroats.  Their losses must already be substantial, and
Mira can?t count on them to keep risking their lives forever.  Let?s wait
them out until nighttime mode.?
     Dillon nodded in agreement, but he had a concern.  ?We humans are
going to need water pretty soon, and we?ll all need food.?
      ?We?ll get them,? promised Kar, ?somehow.?

***********************

     Dillon and Kar stood watch at the shrine until it became clear that
no more mercenaries were going to plunge blithely into the catacombs. The
waiting game seemed to have set in on both sides, Dillon still felt a
disadvantage because he would rather have been topside than in this poor
man?s necropolis.  But at least they were alive and not under attack.
     As he and Kar wound their way back through a narrow passageway, they
saw a light and dropped into a crouch.  After a moment, they realized it
was Troy, wielding a tiny candle.
      ?There you are!? he said with relief.  ?I was about to send the
daggits after you.?
     Kar chuckled. ?We wanted to discourage them from coming after us,
and I think we did.  Any sign of them at your end??
      ?None,? answered Troy, ?and I scouted all the way to the hatch,
where we first came down. I guess the only reason they came down before
was to drive us into the open.?
      ?Now they?re waiting, like us,? said Dillon with certainty.
     There wasn?t much to add to that conclusion, and he followed Kar and
Troy into the eerie tomb, where they had met Paco and the children.  Paco
was there, along with Varton and Toth, who stood guard over the other two
entrances.
     Upon seeing the new arrivals, Paco jumped in front of Kar and
slammed a fist to his skinny chest.  ?Sir, I understand you are a famous
person, an ambassador to the Council of Twelve!  You were traveling in
disguise, I saw that.?
      ?I hope you can keep quiet about that,? said Kar with a twinkle in
his eye.  ?It would appear as if you can keep a secret, which is good to
know.?
      ?If I couldn?t,? said Paco brightly, ?you would be dead.?
     Kar cleared his throat. ?I suppose so, then listen, warrior, we?re
going to stay here until the ship is in nighttime mode.  But our human
friends need water, and we could all use some nourishment.?  He looked at
Varton.  ?Do you have any cubits left??
     Varton smiled sheepishly and fished in his pocket, pulling out a
handful of gold coins.  ?I got lucky on a few bar bets in that tavern,?
he said nostalgically. ?Boy, would I like to be back there now.?
     He handed all the cubits to an amazed Paco.  ?Do you think you could
get us something to drink and eat for that??
     The boy nodded excitedly.  ?A feast!  I know a woman who cooks, and
she can also keep a secret.?
      ?A feast isn?t necessary,? said Varton.  ?The water is the most
important thing.  Also a few motion detectors would be nice.? He forced a
smile. ?Just kidding.?
      ?Silsop cakes,? suggested Kar. ?Something that would be easy to
carry. And keep some of the cubits for yourself.?
     The boy nodded excitedly, then bent over in an exaggerated bow and
clicked his heels. In a flash, he was gone.
      ?I hate to buy people?s loyalty,? said Kar, ?but it usually works.?
     Varton wagged a finger at him. ?You owe me some money, Ambassador,
if we ever get out of here!?
      ?Pretty big ?if,?? grumbled Troy.
     Kar nodded gravely.  ?I know, I owe all of you plenty, and don?t
think I don?t realize it. I?ve been a huge fool, but I?ve learned a
substantial lesson about how to treat people.?
     The ambassador wandered to one of the three entrances and leaned
against the wall, tapping his laser pistol against his brawny arm.  ?Fear
and neglect often go together,? he observed. ?We neglect what we fear by
pretending it doesn?t exist.  Then we must fear what we neglect, knowing
that someday it might come back to haunt us.?
     He motioned to the dreary tomb. ?Look at this place, where our
children live.  It is not enough to say that other ships have similar
places...this must be dealt with!  Ignore it, and we breed a race like
those animals who are chasing us.  And someday they won?t be content to
kill each other over a few cubits.?
     Nobody could say much to refute Kar, especially under their present
circumstances.  They were out of solonite charges, but at least they had
three lasers and several candles.  Dillon also thought about the intense
heat that would soon be roasting the deck.  At least in the catacombs,
the environmental engineers would keep the temperature pleasantly cool. 
He could get used to temperatures like this, but never to the stale
smells, the grinning corpses, and the claustrophobia of being in a
tunnel.
     He doubted whether many humans would like it down in the catacombs.
Whether it was a cloud-filled sky, or a giant starship, humans liked open
spaces.
     Dillon took up a station on one of the entranceways and checked his
laser gun.  He wondered how much charge it had left in it.

***********************

     The lieutenant gazed too long at a flickering candle and was stirred
out of troubled daydreams by the sound of feet scuffling through the
catacombs.  He cursed himself for his carelessness and drew his laser
gun.  Only the fact that the weapon would soon be out of charge prevented
him from firing at once, and he was glad he waited.  He heard Paco?s
gleeful chuckle before he actually saw him skipping toward him, dragging
a plastic sack.
      ?It is dinnertime for all of you!? he gushed. First the boy passed
plastic bottles to the three humans, each of whom drank ravenously.  The
water smelled heavily of treatment chlorides, but it tasted cool and
refreshing.
     The boy unwrapped packages of small cakes, various pieces of cured
animal flesh, and a few dried fruits.  ?I promised you a feast!? he said
proudly.
      ?Thank you, Paco.?  Kar ruffled the boy?s long, stringy hair.  ?You
have served us well.  If you want to come back to the Galactica with
us----after this is all over----perhaps Commander Adama could help find
you an adoptive family.  Would you like that??
      ?Critical!? the boy beamed. ?Now you must eat.?
     Kar picked up a cake and began to munch on it.  ?Did you see any of
our friends out there??
     Paco nodded seriously.  ?I saw the beautiful lady, my friend, and
she was yelling at some of the others.  She called them cowards and
buffoons.?  The boy laughed and slapped his thigh.  ?She knows them
pretty well!?
     He shrugged. ?I think they would have killed her, but some of the
braver and younger ones stayed with her.  I saw her give cubits to some
who went away.  There has been so much fighting that they fear someone
has called Council Security.  Of course, they may come or not?who knows??
      ?You saw a great deal,? said Toth, bending down to pick up a slice
of cured flesh.
      ?Always!? grinned Paco.  ?The food is good, isn?t it?  I had some
one the way here.  Aunt Mal sure knows how to dry porcine.  The others
trader her animals for her cakes, so she always has more than she should
have.?
     Varton grabbed a piece and took a big bite.  ?It?s excellent!? he
assured the boy.?
      ?With all these supplies,? said Kar, ?we could easily make it to
the tribesmen?s apartments.  As Mira loses people, she loses her ability
to cover all of the escape routes.  She?ll still be expecting us to try
for the lift, so maybe we should try another way.?
     ?I?m game,? said Troy.
     It was amazing what food and water did to lift the spirits, even if
you were entombed in a dreary stretch of catacombs, surrounded by dead
and deadly Nomen.  Dillon giggled at the wordplay in his mind.
      ?What?s so funny?? asked Toth, and then she giggled too.
     Dillon felt lightheaded, but he wasn?t alarmed until he saw Kar, who
was clutching at his throat and staggering around, as if he had lost his
motor skills.  Toth laughed uproariously at this until she started
gagging and clutching her throat.  Dillon whirled around, losing his
balance.  He tried to concentrate on the bizarre objects that were
whirling around the tomb, so he picked up the biggest thing in the room,
Varton.  He was asleep on the dusty floor, completely unconscious.
     Troy whirled around, waving his laser.  He could tell by the way he
kept rubbing his eyes and staggering that he wasn?t feeling too well. 
?You poisoned us, you daggit!? he screamed. ?Where are you??
     A childish giggle seemed to haunt the room.
     Kar collapsed to the floor, convulsing.  Toth was on her knees,
throwing up repeatedly.  Troy was staggering around, unsure of his
vision.  The eerie, candlelit tomb pitched and swayed as if it were on a
ship at sea, yet Troy could still spot the small Nomen dashing for the
passageway.  He wanted to aim his laser at him, but he didn?t have the
coordination.
     The Nomen child turned to them and shook his head sadly, like an
adult considering the fragility of life.  ?Critical. That?s what you are.
Enjoy the afterlife, compliments of the Thenta Society.?
     With a somersault, Paco was gone.

*******************
 
CHAPTER 17
A HAPPY ENDING AT LAST 

     Dillon stopped staggering around and tried to concentrate on looking
at his own hands.  That was good, because the tomb, the candles, and the
dead bodies stopped spinning around.  He didn?t know if it was true or
not, but he convinced himself that the poison wasn?t going to kill him. 
He couldn?t say the same for Kar and Toth, who were writhing in agony on
the dusty floor of the tomb.
      ?Troy! Troy!? he called.
      ?Yeah, yeah,? he muttered. ? That little son of a daggit poisoned
us!?
      ?I know,? he said, trying to sound calm about it. As Troy was the
only one standing other than he, he spotted him easily and staggered over
to grip his shoulders.  ?Listen, I don?t think we?re poisoned.  The drug
has a disastrous effect on the Nomen but only a psychotropic effect on
humans.  On Varton, it?s having a narcoticlike effect.?
      ?We?ve gotta get help for them,? murmured Troy, brushing his
coal-black hair back and looking dazed.
      ?I think I know where, but it?s a long shot,? Dillon stopped to
take his bearings in the candlelit tomb, and he considered the three
exits.  ?Which one is it that goes back to the shrine??
     Troy pointed to the left.  ?Dillon, if you feel like I do, you?re in
no condition to make a trip like that.?
      ?Somebody?s got to go,?he answered, looking back at his dying
friends.  He reached down an picked up two things....a candle and one of
the plastic bottles that had a bit of drinking water left in it.
      ?Wish me luck,? he said.
     But Troy had fallen onto his rear end and was sitting in a stupor.
     Clutching his laser more for comfort than defense, Dillon staggered
down the viaduct.  He tried to ignore the leathery Nomen skulls that
smiled knowingly at him.  He decided that the poison had one salutary
effect----it made the mummified Nomen seem more hallucination than real. 
He stuck out his tongue at them as he staggered along.
     Dillon had no clear idea of the passage of time, but he had always
been good at landmarks, even if they were a pile of skulls or an
especially gruesome corpse wearing a bright red dress.  He found the fork
and branched to the left as he knew he was supposed to; in due time, he
found the shrine.  Actually, the first thing he found was the body of the
man he had killed earlier, and his sardonic grin was not comforting.  He
tried to ignore his vacant-eyed stare as he stepped between him and the
small statuette of Bock, whose gaze made him feel guilty for desecrating
the catacombs.
     He muttered a curse when he saw the tattered ladder, half of it
drooping against the other half.  Well, he wasn?t very heavy, Dillon
assured himself, compared to the men who had been climbing down the
tattered strands.  He stuck the gun and the bottle into his belt and
started up.  Going slowly and using broken cables for handholds, he was
able to climb the damaged shaft, and he found his senses clearing as he
approached clean air and light.
     Unfortunately, there was a good chance his head would be blow off as
soon as he poked it out of the hatch.  It was a good thing the poison was
numbing his senses.  Dillon climbed out of the shaft and froze, holding
his breath.  When nobody shot him, he decided to quit worrying about
dying for the moment, but he couldn?t help but wonder where the gunmen
had gone. If they weren?t waiting here, where were they waiting?
     He looked around and saw that the large shrine was unchanged from
their earlier visit.  The air, however, was much hotter than ever before. 
Since he wasn?t worrying about dying anymore, he left his laser in his
belt as he jogged into the corridor, searching for a doorsign that looked
like a ?Q.?
     Dillon found it quickly, behind the remains of the dead-and-gone
computer mainframe that they had hidden behind.  He didn?t knock...he
just barged in----and he gasped as he saw several life-pods with horribly
burned Nomen occupying them.  A med-tech at the back of the cramped room
gasped too, as if she wasn?t expecting to see a Colonial Warrior in the
no-man?s zone.   She was holding an intravenous bottle for one of the
burn victims, and she carefully hung it on a stand.
      ?Doctor!? he croaked.  ?We need you out here.?
     An older Nomen dressed in white surgical togs entered the room, and
she pulled down her mask in amazement when she saw Dillon.
      ?Doctor, please help me,? said the warrior.  ?Several members of
our party have been poisoned.  It?s not affecting the humans as badly,
but the Nomen look like they?re dying!?
      ?Where are they?? asked the doctor warily.
      ?In the catacombs, not far from here.?
     The aged doctor scratched the folds under her chin.  ?We don?t see
many Colonists down here.  Did you have something to do with the carnage
in Vee-Tar today?  Did you burn these men??
      ?They were trying to kill us!? shouted Dillon, shaking his head
with frustration.  ?It all revolves around a Blood Hunt.  Listen, Doctor,
I?ll be happy to explain the whole thing at another time, but right now I
need an antidote for this poison!?
      ?I don?t know.?  The doctor glowered at him.  ?I?m rather busy
right now, thanks to you.?
     Undeterred, Dillon held out the bottle of water. ?This is poisoned
water.  Can you analyze it??
     With a scowl, the old doctor grabbed the sample from him.  ?Don?t we
have enough problems in the no-man?s zone without Colonists and wealthy
Nomen mucking about??
      ?I?d say you do,? said Dillon. ?What do you want from me?  My
friends are dying, and you?re wasting my time! If you?ll just give me the
antidote, I?ll save you the trouble of administering it.?
     The doctor growled something under her breath and shuffled into the
back room.  Dillon stepped into the doorway and saw the woman pour some
of the water into a centrifugal device.  It spun around a bit, then she
dropped some filaments into the sample.  After another moment, she looked
at her readouts.
      ?Tetrapalizix,? she pronounced. ?A popular poison that is tasteless
and cheap to make. But the antidote is expensive.?
     Dillon dug out some cubits and tossed them over on the counter in
front of the doctor.  ?This should cover it. Time?s a?wasting, Doctor.?
     The woman smiled. ?Interesting that tetrapalizix should have little
effect on Colonists.  I must make not of that in my journal.?
     The doctor shuffled to a cabinet and pulled out a syringe gun.  ?I
don?t know about the Colonists, but you must administer the injection to
the Nomen in their necks.  Right here.?  She touched the right side of
her neck between a ripple of cartilage and a large artery.  ?They will
need to rest afterward.?
      ?Just hurry!? begged Dillon.

*************************************

     The lieutenant stuck the syringe gun loaded with antidote into his
uniform, then skirted along the corridor.  Jagson Section was still as
dead as they had left it, although the doctor and the others had had the
decency to pick up the bodies.  Seeing no one to stop him, he ducked into
the shrine and scampered down the ladder as quickly as its hacked-up
condition would allow.  He dreaded returning to the tomb and finding Kar
and Toth dead, but he steeled himself to that possibility.  At least he
had done everything he could, and maybe Varton or Troy would need the
antidote.
     Dillon dropped the final metron to the bottom of the shaft, which
was now strewn with broken metal.  He stumbled out and lit the candle in
his pocket with his laser.  Clutching the syringe gun to his chest, he
ran down the passageway.  Dillon dodged the dehydrated mummies that
jerked and danced as he rushed past, disturbing the air of yahrens gone
by.  Just when he thought he?d made it, he heard a sound like a can being
kicked, and he whirled around, fumbling for his laser.
     He stood several seconds in the catacombs, shivering and staring,
but there was nothing behind him but darkness and softly swaying
cadavers.  He shrugged it off as best he could and kept running.
     Finally, he saw the light at the end of the passage, and he knew it
had to be the tomb.  It had to be!  He staggered into the dimly lit room
and saw Varton bending over Toth, shaking her. 
      ?Wake up!? he sobbed.  ?Wake up!?
      ?Get back!? Dillon yelled at him, pushing him off the prostrate
Nomen.  He whipped out the syringe gun and administered a quick shot of
antidote to Toth?s neck, not even bothering to check if she was alive or
not.
     Then Dillon jumped up and staggered over to Kar, where Troy was
keeping a death vigil.  The ambassador was still alive, but barely; he
coughed weakly.  Dillon concentrated on her task and injected a dose of
antidote into his neck. Only then did he slump against the wall of the
tomb and begin panting.
     Troy slumped beside him.  ?I take it that you think it?ll do some
good??
     He shrugged. ?It should. I paid enough for it.?  He stared at Troy
and Varton.  ?How do you two feel?  Do you think you need the antidote? 
It?s some kind of poison called tetrapalizix.?
      ?Oh,? groaned Varton, dropping to his knees. ?I?ve heard of that. 
I never wanted to try any of it, though. I think I?ll be okay.?
      ?And they?re always making fun about how much weaker we are!?
scoffed Troy.  ?We?re thin-skinned, can?t stand the heat or the
cold----but we?re sitting here and they?re bagged.?
     They kept up this brave banter, all the time not knowing if their
friends would survive, not knowing if armed gunmen would burst in upon
them at any moment, only knowing that they had been poisoned. They didn?t
bother to watch the entrances anymore.  The sight of the burned Nomen in
the clinic had convinced Dillon that enough damage had been done by this
Blood Hunt.  He wasn?t going to contribute to the killing anymore.
     It was Kar who rolled over suddenly and vomited.
      ?Hey, watch the furniture,? growled Troy.
     The Nomen stared at him, looking worse than half a dozen of the
dried corpses hanging on the wall.  ?Am I still alive?? he croaked.
      ?I?m afraid so,? muttered Dillon. ?No thanks to your friends at the
Thenta Society.?
      ?Toth?? he asked.
     The lieutenant shook his head.  ?We?ve been afraid to look, but she
got the antidote, just like you.?
     He nodded and crawled over to his noble aide, the woman who saved
his neck on a daily basis.  He felt her ridged forehead for a pulse, then
he slapped her as hard as he could in his weakened condition.  Toth
stirred and groaned like a drowning person coughing up seawater, then she
rolled over to her side.  She had already thrown up several times, so all
she could produce were dry heaves.  Troy massaged her back until they
stopped.
      ?Isn?t this touching?? came a snide voice from the passageway.
     Dillon jerked around to see Mira come strolling into the tomb; she
was alone, but she had a laser rifle pointed at Kar?s head.  Her purple
gown, which had looked so stunning early that morning, was burnt and torn
to shreds.
      ?Don?t anybody make a sudden move,? she cautioned, ?or I?ll kill
both Kar and Toth.  If you don?t prevent me from killing Kar, I may let
the rest of you live.?
      ?You followed me?? muttered Dillon.
      ?Of course,? said Mira. ?Paco sent one of his little friends to
tell me what he had done, so I waited.  I have finally learned patience. 
Thank you for saving Kar?s life....saving it for me to take!  Now, Toth,
crawl away from him.  Let me finish it.?
      ?Where is your crew?? asked Dillon, trying desperately to keep the
conversation going.
      ?I sent them home.  I only needed them to reach this point.?  Mira
leveled the rifle at the ambassador?s head.  ?Get away from him, Toth, or
you?ll die with him!?
     Kar tried desperately to push his aide away.  From the other side of
the room came a voice: ?Spare him and I?ll clear your father?s name!?
     The claim came from such an unlikely source that it took everyone a
moment to realize that it was Varton who spoke. The portly man staggered
to his feet, and Mira trained her rifle on him.
      ?If this is a delaying tactic,? she warned, ?you will die, too.?
     Varton shook his head so strongly that his entire body shook.  ?No
delaying tactic, my lady, I swear it!  Hold your fire, please, I need to
get something out of my pocket.?
     He fumbled in his pants pocket, and Mira tensed to shoot him if he
should produce a weapon. Instead, Varton produced a simple data crystal,
which he held up for everyone?s inspection.
      ?Inside this data crystal,? Varton explained breathlessly, ?are
detailed records of meetings and transactions between Balshazar and a
convicted Tauran firearms merchant named Zegarus.  Tribunal records are
also included. In other words, this crystal proves it was a Colonists who
sold the weapons to Balshazar, not your father!  This clears the name of
Rog.?
      ?What in Hades?? muttered Troy.
     Varton shrugged.  ?I told you, I never come to the Borella without
something to bargain with.  Although I had hoped to be in a better
position.?
     Her gun never wavering, Mira stepped forward and grabbed the data
crystal from his hand.  Varton wheezed with laughter.  ?You can take it
from me, fair lady, but it?s all encrypted!  You won?t be able to get at
the data.  Plus, you need me to authenticate the crystal, to testify
where it came from.  If you don?t have me, they?ll think you faked it. 
No, fair lady, I go with the crystal.  All you have to do is let the
others go, and never bother them again.?
     Varton quickly added, ?Of course, the ambassador still has to pay
the sums that Toth negotiated with your mother.?
      ?Who authorized you to do this?? asked Kar in amazment.
     Varton managed a smile.  ?A mutual friend of ours from the
Battlestar Galactica.  He said that if it wasn?t too much trouble, I
should save your life.  I knew you weren?t dead, but I didn?t know you
were you in disguise.  So I didn?t know your life was in danger until it
was too late!  I had hoped to get some money for these Tauran records,
but I?ll settle for our lives.?
      ?My Blood Hunt...? whispered Mira, gazing past them at a candle
burning into a lump of soot.
      ?You?ll have to give that up,? said Dillon softly. ?I think this is
what you really want, isn?t it?  To clear your father?s name??
     Toth lifted herself onto one elbow and rasped. ?I gave up a Blood
Hunt once.  They can tell you, it was the hardest thing I ever had to do,
and I fought it.  But sometimes there are bigger matters at stake. 
Whatever he has done in the past, he is doing good work on the Galactica. 
He can do good work for your family too, if you let him.?
      ?Let?s go to the IFB,? suggested Varton. ?That will get the truth
out the quickest, and I can give them alternate sources for this
information, if they want it.  Your father?s name can be cleared, but
only if you spare all of our lives.?
     The shattered Nomen aimed her rifle from one human to another in
quick succession. ?If this is a trick, no power can save you!?
     Kar struggled to his knees, holding his stomach.  ?It is no trick,
daughter of Rog. I swear by the bones of our ancestors and the shrine of
Bock, I will clear your father?s name.
     The ambassador coughed raggedly and looked as if he would be ill. 
?Toth and I can?t walk anyway. So we will stay here until you and Varton
have made your contacts.  Send the fleet news agency for me, and I will
back up whatever Varton tells them. I will not, however, incriminate
myself.  I intend to return to my life and let you and your family return
to yours.  Take this path, daughter of Rog, I beg of you.  If have
learned one thing from serving aboard the Galactica, it is that peace is
possible for anyone.?  The Nomen clasped his hands in front of him.
     Mira lowered her laser rifle and jutted her youthful jaw.  ?Kar, if
you do as you promise, with these brave Colonists as your witness, then I
will abandon my Blood Hunt.  If this is a ruse, I will personally
disembowel each of you.?
     Varton grinned and bowed regally.  ?I am your servant, fair Mira,
daughter or Rog. Take me anywhere you wish.?
      ?Mira motioned with her weapon. ?Out that passage. The rest of you
stay here.?
     When they were gone, Kar slumped to the floor and gripped his
stomach.  ?How low have a I fallen,? he groaned, ?that a Colonist must
save my life.?

*************************************

     Council Security finally arrived, but they were escorting a camera
crew from the Inter-Fleet Broadcasting Agency. They installed a new rope
ladder at the entrance to the catacombs, and they used it to evacuate the
sick Nomen and humans from the odorous ducts.  Dillon walked slowly
toward the lift, and he noted that Jasgon Section was suddenly crowded
with onlookers poking their heads outside their dwellings, all the people
who had been invisible earlier that day, probably some of whom had been
trying to kill him.  They watched him sullenly, as if he were a criminal
who had just been captured in their midst.
     He wasn?t sorry to leave the no-man?s zone, or Hecba Section a few
centons later.  The Nomen Council sent its regrets and canceled their
appointment, leaving them free to depart for home.  In fact, the Nomen
found a shuttle that had arrived in their docking bay direct from the
Galactica, and it was leaving for its mother ship that very night.  They
whisked him and Troy away so fast that it was as if their involvement in
this matter was something of an embarrassment.  He supposed it was, as
the Blood Hunt was not something that was easily explained to outsiders.
     The last they saw of Kar was when his wife came to claim and protect
him, but Kar didn?t seem to need Kal?s protection, even in his weakened
state.  When he explained the sorry chain of events, he came off sounding
like a hero.  He shoved his faked death to the background while he
concentrated on the noble goal of rehabilitating Rog?s reputation and the
status of his family.  He made it sound as if he had been on some kind of
covert mission to find out the truth about the arms deal with Balshazar. 
His unique contacts among the fleet?s people made it all possible, and
now he was only too happy to set the record straight.  Dillon had to
admit, Kar was an expert on spin control and disinformation.
     Now he was alone for the first time since his mineral bath the night
before, which seemed like an eternity in Hades ago.  They had sunk deeper
and deeper into the descending levels of the Borella, not stopping until
they reached the underworld.  And they had met Diabolis there, wearing
the guise of a little boy.
     He looked about the shuttle's cabin. Yes, the mineral bath in Hecba
Lodging Number 67 had been the high point of the visit, hands down.
Killing people was the low point, hands down.  That was another good
reason, he decided, for whisking him and Troy away as soon as possible. 
He tried to reassure himself that it was really over.  Two more centons
and he would be flat on his back in the Blue Squadron?s quarters, on
familiar turf, filling out an expense report.
     The warrior thought about the array of Nomen he had met on this
journey, from the Inner Circle to the outer circles and beyond: Tok and
his crew, Kar?s wife, priests, doctors, servants and refined social
butterflies such as Pac and Mon, all the way down to thugs who would kill
you for a cubit.
     Where would Mira fit into this stratified social order?  What would
happen to her?  Maybe the stars were her destiny, though Dillon.  If that
much energy and determination could be harnessed to constructive use, it
would light up the universe.  But who would control it?  Maybe Varton. 
Maybe Varton would end up getting sealed to the daughter of Rog.
     Dillon chuckled at that conclusion to the story, finally feeling a
wave of giddy relief.   Two centons in a shuttle stood before him, he
reflected, with nothing whatsoever to do but sit.  Suddenly, the
worn-down seat cushions didn?t feel too bad, and his aching bruises and
muscles settled in gratefully to the seat.  Two centons with nothing to
do but check in with Dr. Franklin after the shuttle docked with the
Galactican and the pilots powered down the engines.  Yeah, he could
handle that.
     Dillon went to sleep and dreamt that his mother was rocking him in
the old hammock, in the backyard, while fireflies danced in the Caprican
night sky. 

*************************************

     Kar gritted his teeth.  This was the confrontation he had been
dreading the most since his return from the dead.  It almost made him
want to go back to the dark spare closet of the Shanavas. ˙He halted and
took a deep breath outside the quarters of Senior Councilman Mollary. 
Straightening to attention, he pressed the door chime.
     Kar heard laughter inside, and he knew it had to be at his expense. 
Probably Mollary and his stooge, Vir, chortling over the way they had
extricated him from his own arrogance and stupidity.  He wanted to turn
and run down the corridor, but he owed the buritician this social call. 
He probably even deserved the laughter.  An enemy always knew you best,
he thought ruefully.
     He tried to remind himself of the Holy Book and the lessons he had
learned from it.  They were lessons from a simpler time when Nomen moved
with the seasons and tides of their planet.  The book often said that
life was a learning experience, not a conquering experience. The elders
looked for learning in every cloud, in every rock, in every person and
animal that crossed their path.  There was no good or bad to the
experience, only the learning derived.  The price for teaching was
different with everyone.
     Kar knew this was his price.
     The doorway slid back, and Mollary beamed at him in his portly,
snaggletoothed way.  He was wearing his buritician?s finery----shiny
brocade, epaulets, medals and buttons----and his hair reared above his 
head like a tidal wave.
      ?My dear Kar,? he said with a smirk, ?you are looking well for a
zombie.  Do you know what a zombie is?  It?s something from the Earth
folklore, a creature who comes back from the dead----to serve the master
who brought him back to life.  Apparently there is some scientific basis
for the belief in zombies.  Captain Troy was just telling me about it,
and here you are!?
      ?Yes, I am well for a dead man I can tell you one thing: I never
want to be dead again.?
     The Nomen turned to face Mollary, and he bowed curtly.  ?Thank you,
Sire.  Your agent saved my life, with the information you furnished him. 
You did bring me back to life, although I can?t imagine why.
     The Tauran chuckled.  ?Faking one?s death is a famous literary
device in Tauran drama, with dozens of different versions in all media. 
It is viewed as the ultimate ruse, a fantasy for husbands who have too
many wives.  The Earth writer, Mark Twain, also appreciated the terrific
irony of the situation.  Once we connected the Rog family with Balshazar,
your mysterious death began to make sense.  You reacted deviously, as
Count Baltar might have.?
      ?Please,? muttered Kar, ?it was cowardly, I admit, but don?t be
insulting.  Isn?t it enough that I am in your debt??
      ?Actually,? said Mollary, ?Varton must take the credit for saving
your life.  I told him to do so only if it was convenient.  I owed Varton
a favor, and I was repaying him with the information.  He knew its
potential value.  By the way, I made a wonderful speech at your memorial
service.  It was the talk of the battlestar.?
     ?I?m sorry I missed it,? Kar answered dryly.
     The buritician grinned. ? Tell me, what is it like to be dead??
     ?Terrifying,? answered Kar.  ?I feel like a ghost, even among people
who knew the truth.  But it did make me review my life, and my conduct. 
It was good to be reminded that there are repercussions to everything we
do in life.  You cannot outrun your responsibilities.?
     Troy cleared his throat.  ?That reminds me, I?ve due to go out on
patrol in a couple of microns.  Before I go, how is Varton doing??
     Kar managed a smile. ?Last I heard, he had sold his services to a
travelator on the Borella with the idea of bringing in more visitors from
other ships.?
      ?And Mira??
     The Nomen?s massive brow furrowed in thought.  It hasn?t been long
enough to heal.  She is behaving herself, and her family is happy----but
you know how she is, Captain Troy.  She is like a reactor about to suffer
meltdown.?
      ?We won?t ever let Mira aboard the Galactica,?said the captain. 
?It would be too dangerous. I?ll see you later, gentlemen.? He nodded to
the ambassador and Sire Mollary and hurried out the door, leaving Kar
alone with the gleeful buritician.
     Mollary?s smile faded.  ?To see you murdered in some foolish family
quarrel....that would bring me no cheer. To see you humbled, to see you
embarrassed, to see you beholden to me, and live to tell about it----this
is much better!?
      ?Good to see you, too,? answered Kar on his way out the door.


THE END